#you can kiss a hundred boys (girls) in bars shoot another shot just to stop the feeling you can say it’s just the way you are | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elisysd · 4 months ago

Text

6. You can kiss a hundred boys in bar, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan

He was used to seeing his best friend’s name in the tabloids. If it wasn’t a daily occurrence, then, it was happening at least monthly. Usually, it was about him being linked to a model, an actress or an influencer. But never ever would he have imagined him being involved in a pregnancy scandal. It wasn’t him. He knew Ethan, he knew how careful he was, how his career was his highest priority and that he would never do something that could threaten it. He simply couldn’t believe it. And he knew how he must be feeling. He didn’t care about the plane to catch, he needed to make sure that his best friend was okay. His hotel was not so far away from his, he would be there in no time. On the way, he texted Ludwig to tell him to not wait for him, to which his friend had quickly added that he was coming with him.

As they were running in the lobby and towards the doors, Kyle couldn’t help flashes of memories rushing through his mind. How they first met in a regional karting race and how Kyle was impressed by Ethan’s dad to whom the blond boy had introduced him to. How they had stayed late after the race, just driving together, pushing each other to their limits. And then, how Ludwig had joined the duo in a race in Italy, a few months later. The long race weekends spent together, in their rooms, talking until the sun would rise the next day, not caring about the criticism they would get when their teams would notice the bags under their eyes. How Ethan had been there when Kyle was about to stop racing and how his dad had decided to sponsor him. They had been through hell and back together. Ethan was a part of him. His little brother from another mother. He could be a little piece of shit from time to time, but he would never give up on him. They managed to arrive right as Ethan was leaving the hotel, looking like a zombie and when he noticed them, Ethan stared at his best friends in disbelief.

“What… why are you here?”

“For you, dummy,” Kyle simply replied.

“We saw what was happening,” Ludwig said, putting a comforting hand on his friend’s back.

“I… I don’t understand… I didn’t… I don’t even know when I met this girl… or anything.”

“We believe you. We have your back. No matter what.”

“We are the three musketeers. All for one and one for all.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be four?” Ethan asked.

“Shut up. I’m trying to be smart and motivating and inspirational for once. Let me be.”

“And you do it just right,” Kyle smiled.

They hugged and, together, they went inside the taxi that would get them to the airport. Kyle had never seen his friend so down, it was almost scary. His usual arrogant and self-centered face had quickly vanished and, for his own sake, Kyle hoped the truth would come out fast.

“I’m sorry guys, I just want to be left alone. I’m not in the mood to talk,” Ethan apologized, going to the back end of the plane and putting his headphones and sleep mask over his eyes, isolating himself.

Understanding his need to be alone, Kyle and Ludwig went on the opposite of the plane and settled for the flight.

“Do you believe him?” Ludwig whispered.

“Of course I do. He is a lot of things but not irresponsible. You don’t?”

“It’s a mess, Kyle. I want to believe him but when it comes to that type of stuff we can never be sure.”

“No matter what, I’m on his side.”

“I am too. I’m just cautious.”

All the media attention was on Ethan throughout the whole weekend who was doing his best to not show how bad it affected him. He was only a shell of his old self. But despite everything, it didn’t prevent Kyle from having a good weekend. It was something he was always very proud of, his ability to block out any thoughts that could distract him from racing. When his visor was down, nothing else mattered. His killer mode was activated. Of course, leading almost every lap of the race was boring, even if Ludwig had decided to play a little, but the thrilling feeling of crossing the checkered flag first would never become something he would hate. Even more when it was a double podium for Lamborghini that he could share with his best friend and teammate. But today, it was a bittersweet feeling. Ethan’s race had been inexistent and frankly disappointing and he knew that he would only get a brooding Ethan to celebrate.

But contrary to what Ludwig and Kyle had thought, it had not taken much convincing to get Ethan onboard.

“I want to forget about this week,” he had told them.

They ended up in a VIP area of a chic cocktail bar, a little away from everyone so they could still both relax and enjoy themselves.

“I never thought I would ever be in this situation. It sucks, guys. They want to set me up with a girl to build a bad boy redemption narrative. Whatever that shit means. I hate that. I’ve always had control over my private life, I don’t want that to change. I don’t want them to put me in a cage.”

“Well, not only are they trying to cage you but they also want to throw away the key so you can’t escape it,” laughed Ludwig, earning a little kick from Kyle.

“We will find a way. Trust the process. If you know you’ve done nothing wrong, then stick to that. Truth will come out eventually. Meanwhile, lay low. You don’t want to give the media other reasons to corner you,” the American said.

“They will search for every little reason to get to me, Kyle. I’m an easy target right now. Holy hell…” he sighed looking over Kyle’s shoulder and slumped on his chair.

Soon, Kyle saw a brunette sitting by his side but couldn’t exactly pinpoint who she was. He knew her, he was sure of it but he didn’t remember where he might have met her in the past.That was until he heard Ludwig shout, making everyone look at their group.

“Shit, you’re Charles Leclerc’s daughter?”

Of course, Julia. How could he have ever forgotten about her? She had always been around when Ethan was racing in karting and she had often been the source of many insults and curses coming from Ethan’s mouth. As years went by, he had lost sight of her and the only thing he knew for sure was that Ethan strongly disliked her. Always have and probably always will even if Kyle didn’t understand why Ethan had such a strong opinion of her. It had often been a source of jokes between them, saying how between love and hate, there was often a very thin line. Growing up, Kyle had always thought that Ethan had a small crush on the brunette even if Ethan didn’t know it yet or was too stubborn to admit it. Feeling how south the conversation was about to go, Kyle mingled in it.

“But why are you working at Skoda and not Ferrari, then?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Maybe I don't want to? Maybe I want to deserve to work there and not have easy access, like some people,” Julia snapped, glaring at Ethan who was completely unphased and Kyle was ready to jump between them just in case. He shot a glance at Ludwig who seemed to enjoy the petty fight. But as he was watching the two enemies, he soon felt a shiver down his spine and a voice he knew very well coming from behind.

“P4! P fucking 4! Fucking Ferrari, fucking Martin and his nasty overtake! I could have won if it were not from him overtaking me like that! We all know he should have gotten a penalty, it was not fair to squeeze me between the barriers like that!”

He stupidly smiled. He loved seeing this fiery side of her. Her blond hair in a total mess, her cheeks red from anger and how confident she sounded even if he knew she wouldn’t have won the race. He wouldn’t have let her and despite Audi’s being quick, the team was far from Lamborghini's pace. She was totally in her own world and had not noticed Kyle yet. So, when she sat down right in front of him and her knee accidentally bumped his, she froze. She looked at Kyle, and apologized before heading to the toilets section.

Romy let out a huge sigh once alone in the toilets. She didn’t mind the weird looks two girls having a smoke were sending her, glaring at them. She leaned over the sink, trying to get her composure back. The room felt too small, her dress too tight and there were too many people for her liking. She should have expected Kyle to be there, but she hadn’t thought twice when she had received the SOS text from Julia. It was stupid, she should have expected Kyle to be there. Maybe a part of her, the sneakiest, was hoping to see him there and that’s why she had put more effort in her outfit than usual. She shook her head and took a few deep breaths before coming back.

On her way back, she glued her eyes to her best friend and tried to drag her to the dance floor. Unsuccessfully. When she noticed that Julia wouldn’t budge she gave up and went alone. It didn’t take long before she felt two hands surrounding her waist and a familiar scent filling her nostrils. It was worrying how easily she could recognise him without seeing him first.

“Your friends are going to see us,” she simply said, moving an arm behind his neck as he pushed her harder against him.

“Let them. I don’t care. You’re gorgeous.”

“I know.”

“Did you dress like that because you knew I would be there?” he flirted.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Which answer do you prefer?”

“I never know what I should expect coming from you.”

“Maybe you should stop expecting.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, handsome,” she whispered, finally facing him.

“I’m not sure.”

She laughed, looking away, before Kyle, delicately grabbed her chin and made her look at him.

“I know you, Romy.”

“Maybe not as good as you want to believe.”

“Or better than yourself.”

“If it makes you sleep at night…”

“Stop it,” his tone was more serious as he led her in the corner of the room, away from the crowd and from prying eyes. “I’m tired of hearing you deny that there is nothing between us. I feel it and I know you feel it too or you wouldn’t be so prone to avoiding me.”

“There is something. Two friends who like to have fun once in a while.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Do you mean that you’re not feeling anything at all when I’m kissing you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she stated, feeling hotter by the minute, her eyes glued to his lips.

“Then allow me to kiss you please. I’ve been dying to, for weeks now.”

She didn’t give him an answer, simply throwing herself at him, a hand on his cheek as she was pushing him against her. She knew she was acting desperate but even if she wouldn’t confess it out loud, she missed him too. She didn’t care about the fact that it was a public place, she only wanted to feel him and when his tongue finally met hers in a feverish dance, she thought she was done for. When they finally let go of each other, she rolled her eyes in front of the smug face of Kyle and lightly punched his shoulder.

“You feel it too. You don’t want to admit it yet. But you will, I know it. And I’m a patient man, I can wait.”

“You’re all talk and no action,” she teased him, tracing the line of his neck from the tip of her perfectly painted red fingernail.

“Let me take you home and I’ll show you action.”

And she didn’t care about the morning after or whatever stupid promises to herself she had made. She wanted him. So she nodded and hand in hand they made their way out, not caring about their friends.

Author's note:

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist: @smoooothoperator-admin

#writing #fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #mick schumacher #mick schumacher fic #f1 story #f1 fiction

4 notes · View notes

nabibeans · 6 months ago

Text

Good Luck, babe.

Summary: Hongjoong is getting married to her boyfriend, she should be happy right? So why does seeing Seonghwa in the crowd crying break her heart?

•💍•

Hongjoong was supposed to be happy, she was marrying her boyfriend. The man she loved..right? The whole morning of the wedding she felt empty, like something wasn’t right. Her stomach twisted in knots, hands fidgeting with anything they could. She was getting married, it was her day. It was her day, her special day.

‘Think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love’

She squeezed the ruffles of her dress, looking up in the mirror. All of her piercings had been removed, split hair tied up in a beautiful wedding style. She looked beautiful, felt beautiful. Yet this empty feeling lingered in her heart.

“You look beautiful sis.”

Bumjoong rubbed her shoulders gently as he stood behind her. Hongjoong smiled, shaking her head.

“Thanks. I just can’t shake this feeling that something isn’t right.”

Bumjoong frowned, helping his sister to stand up from the chair. Hongjoong never did well in heels, she wasn’t a heels girl.

“I’m sure everything is fine. Oh, Seonghwa is here if you want to see her.”

Seonghwa. Her ex girlfriend Seonghwa? The woman she’d been madly in love with back in college?

“Seonghwa..she’s here? I didn’t think she’d come considering how we ended.”

‘I just wanna love someone who calls me “baby” ‘

Hongjoong remembered all the dates she had with Seonghwa, the way their hands would explore each others bodies; and oh god the way Seonghwa’s tongue felt on her pussy. The two were the iconic it couple, until they weren’t. A fight between Hongjoong and her parents had ended in her yelling at Seonghwa to get out and never talk to her again, the worst part was Seonghwa listened. Yet she was here, at her wedding.

‘You can kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot try to stop the feeling’

“I want to see her, yeah I think I do.”

Hongjoong walked as fast as she could down the hallway, she had to catch Seonghwa before the wedding started; she needed to see that she was here with her own eyes.

“Seonghwa!?”

She called out, stumbling over her heels. Cursing softly she kicked them off, lifting her dress and running barefoot down the corridors.

‘You can say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse , another stupid reason’

She ran until she was at risk of fainting. Curse vasovagal syncope. Leaning against the wall Hongjoong panted, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to keep herself upright.

“Hongjoong? Oh shit, are you okay?”

That voice. Looking up through her tunnel vision Hongjoong could make out Seonghwa’s long brown hair, tied up in a long curly ponytail. Her body was accentuated with a deep red dress, she looked so beautiful..as beautiful as the day she left Hongjoong’s apartment and never came back. Hongjoong’s cheeks felt warm, whether from the beautiful woman in front of her or from the fact she was literally about to pass out from her blood pressure and heart rate dropping.

“Seonghwa..you’re really here…”

‘ well good luck babe, you’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling’

“Of course I am, you’re my best friend regardless of our past. Come on let’s get you a glass of water, can you stand? Do you feel nauseous? You haven’t had an episode since…”

Seonghwa cleared her throat, helping the shorter woman stand and walk over to the nearby table.

“Stay here, I’ll get you a glass of-“

The doors suddenly opened, Bumjoong coming into the corridor with a stern looked.

“Sis, we gotta go it’s time; sorry Seonghwa- wait is she okay?”

Seonghwa backed away, folding her hands at her front before shaking her head.

“She’s having an episode, just..get her a glass of water…I’ll see you.”

Seonghwa ran past the two, once she was far enough away the tears began to fall down her face. She was so stupid for coming here, she was torturing herself. Her best friend was getting married and she was jealous it wasn’t her.

‘When you wake up in the middle of the night with your head in your hands…’

Hongjoong watched the woman run off, looking to Bumjoong with a sigh.

“Let’s get this done. I just want to be out of this fucking dress.”

Bumjoong frowned, watching his sister make her way to the altar. If he was being honest, he didn’t think his sister should be marrying this guy; it was clear she was still in love with Seonghwa. The two had been closer, they’d been together years before breaking up and a shitty fight had come between them.

“Seonghwa…you better object.”

‘You’re nothing more than his wife’

•💍•

Hongjoong’s hands held her soon to be husband’s though she didn’t feel the best. Whether it was from her earlier episode or the fact she was slowly beginning to realize she didn’t want to be this man’s wife. She didn’t want to be trapped in a marriage with a man..she wanted to marry a woman. Her woman. Her star. Her Hwa…

*flashback*

“Seonghwa, will you marry me one day?”

Hongjoong drew invisible stars on her girlfriend’s stomach, right about her bikini line. The older woman beneath her giggled, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend and nodded.

“Yes, I’ll marry you in a million life times. Now please, fuck me again.”

Hongjoong laughed, quickly slipping back down the woman’s body to continue what they’d started

*end of flashback*

‘And when you think about me all those years ago, you’re standing face to face with I told you so.’

The priest had began asking if there were any objections. Hongjoong’s eyes scanned the crowd, before falling on Seonghwa. The woman looked back, tears falling down her face at a rapid rate. Her make up was running and smeared around her eyes from crying.

‘ you know I hate to say I told you so’

Her mouth ran dry, quickly yanking her hands back Hongjoong looked back at her boyfriend who looked confused. His face morphing from confusion to anger,

“What the hell are you doing.”

He hissed quietly. Hongjoong didn’t respond, she quickly walked off the platform over to where Seonghwa sat, grabbing the woman’s hand suddenly.

“Let’s get out of here. The wedding is off.”

‘You know I hate to say it but I told you so’

Seonghwa’s eyes went wide as she stood, her eyes still wet with tears. The man at the altar snapped,

“This wedding is going on! Get the fuck back here Hongjoong!”

Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa out of the room, as soon as the door opened the two began running. Hand in hand and panting heavily.

“Where are we going!?”

Seonghwa had stopped crying, now only watching the other woman in shock. Why was Hongjoong doing this? Why wasn’t she going back there and getting married!?

“I don’t know, anywhere but here!”

The two laughed, holding hands tightly as they made their way to Seonghwa’s car. It was raining outside, Hongjoong’s hair would be ruined; but she didn’t care. She wanted to be with Seonghwa, her Seonghwa.

“Take me home Seonghwa. Take me home and I promise I’ll never leave you again beautiful. I love you.”

Seonghwa gasped, briefly letting go of Hongjoong’s had as they stood in the rain. Their eyes met, then Seonghwa was wrapping the smaller woman up in her arms. Pressing a kiss to her lips. Hongjoong kissed her back, passionate and loving under the veil of rain pouring over them. That feeling from earlier had completely faded from Hongjoong’s system, instead feeling warm and happy.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

•💍 •

Stumbling into Hongjoong’s apartment the women continued kissing passionately, shedding their clothes as they made their way to the guest bedroom. Hongjoong’s own bedroom filed with boxes that would only get in the way, she wouldn’t need them now.

“I love you.”

She ran her fingers through Seonghwa’s hair, pulling the ponytail out and placing it on the the night stand while removing her own hair accessories.

“I love you, I love you so much.”

The two kissed again, lips moving hungrily against each others. Once they were completely naked and comfortable Hongjoong flipped them over, her lips moving down Seonghwa’s body. All the way down to her pussy, her folds slick with her arousal.

“Look at you babe, you’re so wet.”

Hongjoong pressed two fingers into her cunt, lips latching onto her clit. Seonghwa’s head fell back in a moan, her hands moving to Hongjoong’s short hair; tugging on it while the woman between her legs began to eat her out.

“Fuck, baby just like that.”

Seonghwa moaned softly, her chest rising and falling heavily as she got lost in the pleasure of Hongjoong’s fingers and tongue. It had been so long, too long since she’d felt Hongjoong’s mouth on her body, now she had her.

“You taste so good~”

Hongjoong licked the slick off her lips, moving her fingers faster as she leaned up to kiss Seonghwa again. The older woman moaning at the taste of herself on the younger. Hongjoong’s fingers were always so good inside her, she wouldn’t last long like this.

“Joongie, gonna cum.”

She whined, rolling her hips against the woman’s fingers, eyes rolling back into her head. Hongjoong smirked, pumping her fingers as fast as possible.

“cum for me baby girl, wanna see you cum for me.”

It didn’t take much more for Seonghwa to cum hard, her body convulsing as she rode out her orgasm on Hongjoong’s fingers. As soon as Seonghwa came down from her high she propped herself up on her elbows.

“Want me to get you off?”

Hongjoong giggled shaking her head, showing off her left hand which was coated in her own juices.

“I already came, seeing you cum always does it for me.”

Hongjoong leaned in to kiss Seonghwa again, both women holding onto each other tightly. Their phones were buzzing on the night stand, asking where they’d run off to, why they’d left. Though neither cared, the comfort of each other’s arms was too great.

“I missed you so much baby, I’m not going anywhere from now on. I love you, I love you my star.”

Hongjoong’s lips pressed a soft kiss to Seonghwa’s forehead, wrapping them both up in the blankets as they lay naked together. Seonghwa yawned, snuggling up to her lover in the bed. The gentle sound of rain lulling them both to sleep.

“I love you too. I’ll be wherever you are my treasure.”

The women fell asleep in each other’s arms, right where they belonged.

{ 3 years later }

“Baby! Slow down!”

Seonghwa waddled along behind Hongjoong, rubbing her large baby bump while Hongjoong pushed a cart full of necessities for their baby. The couple had gotten married and decided to take the path of IVF to have a baby of their own. Seonghwa was beautiful and glowing, at least that’s what Hongjoong said.

“I’m sorry honey, I’m just excited. Our little bun is gonna be so cute in all these clothes.”

Hongjoong’s hair was tied up in a messy red bun, Seonghwa’s own long hair had pastel pink at the tips. Seonghwa giggled softly as she finally caught up, kissing her wife’s cheek.

“We have all the time in the world to get our bun lots of cute clothes, I’m getting a bit tired, can we sit for a moment?”

Hongjoong smiled, wrapping an arm around her pregnant wife’s waist.

“Yeah let’s go sit down baby.”

The two walked over to a nearby bench, Hongjoong helping her pregnant wife to sit before joining the woman. This is what it was always meant to be, just herself and her star. Now they’d have a baby to complete their little family. And Hongjoong wouldn’t have it any other way.

#ateez #hongjoong #kpop #ateez fanfic #seonghwa #non canon #ateez matz #lgbtqia #women in love

5 notes · View notes

theglitchywriterboi · 15 days ago

Text

Hot take for some reason, I don't give a fuck if cishets cover Chapell Roan. Why do YOU care ??? "Because it's about being a les-" Okay ??? It's a song. When you make aren't you're allowing ALL people to interact w/ it, not just the ones who can relate to it.

Is it a bit annoying when people change the lyrics to make it het ? Kinda, but thats mostly a me thing. But why do you care it's not like they're being lesbophobic towards her, they're just singing an incredibly popular song, you need to get the biggest of grips if that upsets you.

Though I will say, I wanna see a cishet man uave the balls to change the lyrics & make it gay in an MLM way "You can kiss a hundred girls in bars, shoot another shot try to stop the feeling....... When you wake next to her in the middle of the night, with you head in your hands you're nothing more than her boy" saying boy at the end doesn't work exactly but imo it works a bit better than husband or boyfriend idk.

1 note · View note

mmvalentine · 4 years ago

Note

hi!! how are you? I’m the one who sent you that dream prompt lol

I was thinking of this (way less weird) prompt: where feyre and Rhys knew each other since kids and were together, there’s a part of the books that Rhys says he and mor used to be sent to the cabin when they got into trouble (I think?) and here it is: Rhys has got himself in a fight with his dad and is sent there alone, but feyre finds a way to go to him without anyone knowing and they have the cabin all to themselves *insert smut here*

Hello little dreamer! Alright I've done so much prompt work these last couple of days and was trying to work through them chronologically because that's what seems fair but now I am tired and I just want to do one more and then take a break and this one is hands down my FAVOURITE of the ones left in my inbox right now. So you're getting bumped up!! Bit of a long one, fair warning.

A Chink in the Wall

Rhys has been alive for eighteen years, has known Feyre for seventeen, and has loved her for what feels like a thousand. He does not remember a time without Feyre, he has known she is his mate since before he knew what the word meant, and their progression from childhood best friends to lovers was something he does not remembering happening at one particular time, but gradually, the same way his legs had grown longer.

What he does remember is the first time they'd slept together, and how he'd spent so long thinking about it beforehand that he'd thought he'd go mad, only to discover the real madness was once they'd started and then couldn't stop. He'd thought he was hyper-aware of Feyre before- now the scent of her hit him like a brick any time she walked in the room, and once he'd caught her scent he needed to be touching her. Would start to shake and fall apart at the seams until he could pull her into his lap.

Over the years, Rhys's mother always told him that he was too rough with Feyre. Did it when they were kids and did it now, when Feyre would be around their house and he constantly had his hands under her hair or squeezing on her her hip or scratching at her belly.

"You can put her down for one second, for Cauldron's sake," she'd say over dinner.

And Rhys knew why. Had always known that as the High Lord's only son, he had power roiling off him in waves. He figured it was part of the reason why he was always moving, more and more as he got older. Whether it was sparring with the Illyrians or crawling thought the bedroom of Feyre's bedroom window, it felt like he leapt between extremes these days. Felt like he was always thirsty and needing to swallow down violence and pleasure and feeling like water. His father called it the "age of fighting and fucking;" his mother said this is why they couldn't have nice things.

But his mother doesn't know Feyre like he does. Feyre isn't some fragile little girl, she is the strongest person he knows. She is the only one who, when he is throwing all he has at her, can not only contain the energy flooding out of him in uncontrollable torrents, but still loves him all the same for it.

So these days, he does not like to be without her. Does not like to be too far from her, and although they both have curfews, Rhys does not often sleep alone.

Today is a exception.

Today, Rhys is fighting with his father because he stole a fine bottle of brandy from his father's shelf and snuck it between the bars of the cell where Azriel has been locked away. Again.

Rhys yells that what they are doing to Azriel is cruel and if they let it go on they are just as bad. His father yells back that it is not their place to meddle in another family's business and what does this have to do with Rhys being a sneak and a thief? Rhys says it is typical of his father to care more about alcohol than the life of a fae, and his father says and what exactly are you trying to say boy? And then he tells Rhys that he was not so old that Rhys's power is greater than his just yet, and then the fight breaks out.

Rhys does not like to reflect on what happens next too much because he wants to win so badly, wants to best his father just once, but he is eighteen and his father is nine hundred and twenty and the High Lord of the largest court in Prythian.

Suffice to say, the fight is over when Rhys has a black eye and bruised ribs, his father is holding him off the floor by his shirt front, and his mother is pleading with him to put him down.

He drops Rhys with a thud, and Rhys glowers at him.

"The cabin," his father snarls.

"Surely he's had punishment enough," his mother says, but his father does not look at her.

"You come swinging your fists at me?" he says to Rhys. His voice is quiet now, but glitters with rage. "You steal from me, you defy me, and then you come at me with your pathetic little claws out? Well. You can spend three days in isolation."

Rhys looks toward his mother, but there's nothing she can do. He opens his mouth to sling a final insult at his father, but space is already folding around him and he's being sent where no one else can winnow in or out without his father's explicit say so.

Rhys spends the next twenty minutes angrily pacing the cabin. He flings shadows aimlessly at the cabinets, curses his father eight times to sunday, and punches a hole in the wall. It is the latter that gets Feyre's attention.

Ouch, she says through the bond. I felt that one.

Rhys drops onto a couch heavily, the anger washing out of him at the sound of Feyre's voice in his mind.

I'm sorry, he says. I know you hate it when I break things.

Things. Your own knuckles. Yeah it's not my favourite.

Rhys sighs. I'm in the cabin, he tells her.

I know, she says. What did you do this time?

Got into a fight with my dad.

Well did you at least land a couple good ones?

Rhys grins, in spite of himself. I did manage to get a kick into his stomach, this time.

Good, Feyre says. Unlike his mother, she never tells him to try to get along with his father.

I miss you, Rhys says.

You saw me this morning, Feyre points out.

Yes, replied Rhys, but you had way too many clothes on. It didn't count. He can almost feel Feyre shifting in his mind.

You always think I'm wearing too many clothes, she says.

I do, Rhys agrees. Not naked is not good enough.

He slouches back on the couch and closes his eyes. Although he is not yet powerful enough to take down his father, his power is growing. Day by day it stretches and expands uncomfortably, like growing pains, and when he's not in Feyre's bed, sometimes the shadows hound him at night. They claw at him now, rake at his chest like a cat that thinks it's giving affection but leaves you in tatters.

He turns his thoughts back to more pleasant things.

Take it off, he growls at Feyre. Take it all off. I hate it when I can't see your skin.

And what makes you think I've been wearing clothes this whole time? Feyre asks. Rhys freezes, and is rock hard in an instant.

Show me, he shoots down the bond.

Ask nicely, Feyre answers.

Please, Rhys says. Runs his talons down the shields of her mind from top to bottom. Please. Sends her a memory of him kissing her every inch of skin. Please.

Feyre's shudder reaches him like a whisper, and then he's seeing through her eyes.

The interior of her bedroom. Where he spends more time than in his own. Clothes strewn on the floor- boots kicked off in the corner. Illyrian leathers dumped in a pile. Under garments hanging off the end of the bed.

Feyre's bare ankles crossed in front of her on her bed, on top of the covers.

Rhys shivers. He watches Feyre's gaze travel excruciatingly slowly upward, up her shins, past her knees, onto her lovely thighs.

More, Rhys breathes, but Feyre pauses. Her knees bend and the view shifts, as if she has been sitting up and is now laying back down. I need you like I need air, Rhys whimpers, and his hand grabs at the insistent ache in the front of his pants.

Mmm, sighs Feyre. Sometimes I need you. Sometimes I think I could just do it myself. Her gaze finally shifts and watches her own hand slide between her legs.

Oh you cruel thing! Rhys says. He is now practically panting the sight of her starting without him. He loves it. He hates it. It's nowhere near enough.

You know it's not as good by yourself, Rhys tells her.

I don't know, Feyre muses. I'm pretty sure it's faster. Rhys growls.

Who needs faster, he says, when I can be so, so slow. He shows her the image of him settling between her knees. Pressing kisses that start at her knee and travel down her inner thigh. Laying the flat of his tongue on her and licking a lazy stripe up her pussy that ends in a suckling kiss over her clit.

Feyre moans straight down the bond, and it cleaves through Rhys like a arrow shot true. Get over here, he tells her, and Feyre laughs breathlessly.

I can't, lover, she says. Your father has that place warded like a prison, remember? Rhys swears out loud and hurls more shadows uselessly against the walls of magic.

Alright, alright, Feyre says to him. You know just throwing things at it isn't going to work.

Fuck this, Rhys says savagely. You're my mate, he can't keep us apart.

Well, we just need to outsmart him, then, Feyre reasons. He might be stronger, but I've always thought you were smarter. Well, she amends. At least you were when you bothered to use your brain and before you were all... testosterone-y.

Rhys finds himself smiling. Testosterone-y?

Yeah, you know, Feyre says. The old upstairs brain. Remember that guy?

Rhys laughs. He is always in awe of how quickly Feyre calms him down. I thought you liked my downstairs brain, he says in his midnight voice.

Use your upstairs brain to get me through the wards, and I'll show you how much I like your downstairs brain.

And that is more than motivation enough.

Rhys gets up off the couch, and paces around the room again. My dad has always been lazy with spells, he says. He relies on his brute strength, and on everyone being afraid of him more than anything else.

Okay, Feyre says, picking up his train of thought. So... what if there's a weakness in his wards?

A chink in the wall, Rhys agrees.

Yes.

Rhys stands still, and reaches out his mind. Probes against the wards surrounding the cabin, and is aware of Feyre doing the same on the other side. They work their way right around the cabin, when finally, Feyre breathes, here.

And then Rhys gathers every bit of power he has in him, and pushes it all against that one spot. Reaches through it, throws everything he's got until his hand is breaking through, Feyre's grabbing a hold of him, they're folding space and he pulls.

There's a shudder that runs through the cabin, and then an extremely naked Feyre falls right into Rhys's chest and they collapse on the thick carpet together.

For a second, they just blink at each other in surprise.

"It worked," says Feyre. And then Rhys realises holy shit it worked, and smoothly rolls so that Feyre is on her back and he is all over her.

"Great work," is all he says, and then he blinks and his clothes vanish too so they are both naked and the heat of her against his bare cock is absolutely unbearable. He groans, slides his hand under one of her thighs, squeezing gently, and hooks it over his elbow before pushing straight into her, unable to stand not being inside her for one more second.

Feyre moans and lifts her hips to him, barely less eager. Rhys wonders idly if the age of fighting and fucking applies to females, and then as Feyre's nails scratch angry red lines over his shoulders he thinks it might just. He wonders how long this age will go on for, and if his desperate need for Feyre will ever abate. He hopes it doesn't.

"I thought you were going to be slow," Feyre says, breathless but with the most gorgeous light dancing in her eyes. Rhys's body screeches at him but he manages to get control of his movements. To move in and out of her languidly, lazily, tortuously slow. Feyre seems to enjoy it at first, keeps her eyes on his until they're rolling back in her head.

But the longer it goes on the more sensitive she becomes, until she is writhing in his arms seeking more friction, and every time he hits his base she jolts like she's being electrified. The fact that he is tormenting himself, too, seems absolutely worth it for the knowledge that he alone can wring this kind of pleasure from her.

"Still rather play by yourself?" he teases. "Does it feel like this when it's just your own fingers?"

Feyre snaps her eyes open at this, and between jagged breaths, teases him right back.

"Sometimes," she says. "When I'm touching myself and picturing you." A shiver runs through Rhys. "When I've got one hand between my legs and the other squeezing my breast." She demonstrates the last, and Rhys watches with hunger as her hand goes over her own chest.

"Fuck," he bites out, and picks up the pace a little.

"When I've got you curled around my mind and showing me that you're touching yourself too."

Rhys speeds up again.

"But mostly, no," she says, barely able to speak now. "No, nothing feels as good as when you're fucking me senseless."

And Rhys can't argue with that. He forgets his self-control completely and loses himself in her, in her body, in the intoxication of the sounds that she makes when he's inside her. The irony of his sentence to a remote location is that for once, they are able to make as much noise as they want and every time Feyre moans Rhys thinks he gets a little high.

By the time Rhys is close, they have started to breathe in tandem, and he locks his eyes on hers so that seconds later they are coming together. Rhys is breathless with the beauty of her, has always loved the look on her face when she climaxes, and suddenly the prospect of being locked up alone for three days seems mighty appealing.

Feyre sighs, eyes closed and chest moving deeply as she gets her breath back. Rhys draws out of her and then immediately misses her. He kisses her cheeks, her nipples, her stomach, and then without really thinking about it, closes his mouth around her clit and strokes it back and forth with his tongue.

Feyre sighs his name, and the sound of it is so sweet that he redoubles his efforts, until Feyre is rocking her hips to him and before he knows it, they're starting again.

Rhys thinks its going to be a very good three days indeed.

**** Little babies. Sigh I do love them so. Thank you my sweet anon for this lovely prompt.

Bonus: click here to see what Rhys's dark powers look like when they're still growing and trying to figure their shit out.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #smut #mine #asks #prompt fill

110 notes · View notes

dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 8) Laser Pointer

Hahahahahahhaahahahhaha....

*deep inhale*

Hahahahahahahahahaha

The three men leaned against the shrine panting heavily. You helped Caesar and Chu Zihang load bullets as fast as you could. While Chisei looked out at the flames in the hall. The corpse guard specimen at the end of the hall had burned down like a wax candle to reveal a dark golden skeleton.

“What happened to you?” Caesar asked.

“I was called to another elevator. When I got in, it lost power and took me down to the lowest floor basement.” You were so tired that your hands moved automatically while your eyes unfocused. You shake your head to clear your vision and that sends pain shooting through the middle of your skull. You squeeze one eye shut against the pain and keep going.

“You’re hurt?”

“No… it’s just sequelae. From using my Soul Skill earlier.” You wave him away.

“Where’s Lu Mingfei?” Caesar asks.

“I don’t know. I thought he would have made it through the elevator with you.”

“The earthquake stopped the elevator.” Chu Zihang stood up, holding his Uzi, and looking down at you with his golden gaze. “Was that you?”

“Yeah.” You brace yourself on Caesar’s shoulder and stand too.

Caesar whistles long and low through his teeth.

“Reports are coming in saying it was 6.5 magnitude.”

“Oh… I was going for 7.0.” You smirk. “Pretty close.”

"How many C4 explosives do you have?" Chisei suddenly asked.

"Fifteen pounds, but the explosion doesn't seem to seriously injure them. If C4 explosives can't hurt them, then 'Royal Flame' can't do it either." Chu Zihang said.

"The shockwave of the explosion can't hurt them, but the flames could be fatal to them. Look at that corpse guard. Mermaid oil is very flammable. They can be their own best fuel."

Chu Zihang was stunned: "But they didn't burn immediately in the explosion just now."

"That's because they're alive and the corpse guards are dead. The corpse guards are dehydrated. The sphinxes still have a lot of water in their bodies. They have to be in the fire for a long time before they burn up! The Mural Hall is a completely enclosed space, and this is the best place for a fire!" Chisei exclaimed.

"Smothering the sphinxes? Not a bad idea. But they could escape. If they can get in through the elevator doors, they can get out through them." Caesar said.

Chisei pointed above the elevator door: "Above this kind of door must be a steel bar supporting it, we put a piece of C4 explosive there, powerful enough to blow that steel bar, the wall will collapse down, they have no way to escape."

Chu Zihang calculated: "We can use a delayed fuse. One that can explode in twenty seconds. That would be enough time for us to enter the elevator shaft and hide outside the explosion range."

Caesar thought about it: "Then we have to lure the group of them deep into the hall. The more concentrated they are, the better the burning effect."

"No problem, I'll act as bait." Chisei said.

“Bait?” You looked to Caesar for answers.

“The blood of Chisei is extremely attractive to them. When he dripped it down the elevator shaft, that’s what brought them down here.”

You nod, understanding.

“What brought you here by the way?” Caesar was leading you away to the armory room.

“Someone threw a flare. All the other elevator doors were closed. I figured this had to be the only one that was open.”

“Ah.”

Caesar shut the door of the armory. “Alright, suit up. This will be the big push.”

Chu Zihang and Caesar moved between the rows of shelves. You stay behind to lean against the wall. “Give me a minute.”

It occurred to you that this might be the point where you died and whenever your life was in danger, you felt a deep appreciation of your own body. You remembered this feeling of fatigue when you pulled a sledge full of wood through feet of snow. You walked until your thoughts faded away, ignoring the pain and hunger and thirst, one foot after the other. Your body carried you. And thanks to your dragon blood, you recovered quickly to get up the next day. So you knew this body was tired. But as soon as it ate and drank and got a nice rest it would perk up again.

But the one thing you could give it now was oxygen. You take slow deep breaths, filling your lungs completely, holding it a bit, and then emptying them completely. Your lungs would take that oxygen and revive your muscles for the fight.

Already, you could feel yourself reviving and stretched your arms over your head, feeling the rush of blood to your tissues. You rolled your shoulder and remembered lying on the floor looking up into the eyes of Z.

Z made you break that tank for a reason. You doubted it was to kill you and that gave you hope.

Caesar moved to the door and leaned against it to rest, running his hand over two rifles.

The bone-chilling, eerie sound of a giant python sliding against the ground came from behind the door. The group of sphinxes has invaded the mural hall. The only thing separating you from them is a layer of carved wooden doors. With strength like theirs, breaking such a door was no effort, but this group of low IQ beasts has not yet noticed this room. After mutating, some Death Servitors will gain superb vision, hearing or smell, but the snake versions don’t get significant enhancements to their senses. Their golden pupils look hideous but they actually have weak vision. They have a sharp sense of smell but they’re intoxicated by the smell of blood in the hot air of the mural hall. As for hearing, these have basically zero. They’re more attuned to ground vibrations. As long as you stay still, they will have a hard time finding your hiding place.

"What's their approximate number?" Chu Zihang asked in a low voice.

Caesar’s eyes flared golden and the Scythe Itachi went out.

"More than a hundred. All of them have entered the mural hall and the elevator shaft has been cleared. They're eating the dead. I can hear them chewing away at the muscles, disgusting." Caesar said softly, "What's your assessment of the combat power of these snake-like dead men?"

Chu Zihang thought for a moment. "A grade. Speed exceeds that of a zebra, tearing power is close to that of a lion. Strong cellular activity, so wounds heal quickly. The most vulnerable parts are the heart, head and nervous system. Severed limbs are nothing to them.”

Caesar nodded: "I also think it is A-class. One on one with them, we’d have a disadvantage.”

You finally move to go arm yourself. “They’re dumb as hell, though. So there’s that.” You say.

The two men fall silent. “Did you fight them?” Caesar asked.

“Yeah.” You wrap a new belt that will fit multiple weapons onto your waist and cinch it up. These belts were made for men, so you have to use a knife to make a hole for the buckle. “Well… technically no. I made them fight each other.”

“How is that possible? You’re not even hurt!” Caesar looked you up and down. “And you still had plenty of rounds.”

“Well… I used my C4 detonator.” You tilt your head, unsure of what he wanted you to say. “I mean if they want to eat each other, I’m not going to get in the way of that.”

“Perhaps an S-ranked hybrid could take them on.” Chu Zihang said, thoughtfully.

It wasn’t like you were unprepared to fight those beasts. But how could you tell them that the ghost of your dead boyfriend appeared in an elevator to Hell and you went on a date with them in front of the big holding tank? The whole thing sounded silly. You knew how to fight them because Z had shown you how. But there was no way to communicate that.

"Do you trust that Japanese guy? He wouldn't have run away by now, would he?" Caesar asked in a low voice.

"Since I chose to cooperate, I can only trust him, right?" Chu Zihang shrugged.

"It's rare for such a gullible character to have survived to this day." Caesar shrugged back, "He is something that bleeds dragon blood. Dragons are creatures without feelings. If their strength overwhelms you, they will definitely devour you."

Chu Zihang did not speak again.

"Okay, okay, I have no intention of figuring that girl out. To say the least, I quite liked her. She was so pretty ...... But it's best not to trust something that bleeds dragon blood." Caesar took a deep breath.

You let out a breath. In a way, you agreed with Caesar. Z’s yellow eyes gave you a mix of fear and fascination. His kiss made your heart race. You always knew he was scheming something, but you never knew if it was good or bad or had nothing to do with you. And yet you couldn’t help but love it when he laughed. Was what you felt love? Whatever it was, it sure felt good. HIs hands in your hair in front of the holding tank. It felt good.

Your eyes suddenly went wide. “Bait.”

The memory of Z playing with the beasts using a laser pointer flashes through your mind and your face breaks out into a smile. You start pacing the shelves, looking up and down. “Did you guys see a laser sight anywhere in here?”

“What do you need that for? You’re a good shot.” Caesar asked.

“Yes, I need it for something else.”

“There should be one on an AK-47…” Chu Zihang said.

“I found it.” The name AK-47 stood for Avtomat Kalashnikova. It was a Soviet rifle and one you were familiar with, but this specimen looked like it was taken right from your childhood. It was aged, worn and a little rusted. Just like the one you used to use. You picked it up reverently, staring at it in silence while your heart filled with a strange warmth, like the sun coming up for the first time after a long winter night. Your hands caress the laser sight tenderly.

While many women were moved by cards, roses, jewelry and sweets, what moved your heart was the sight of this laser on a Kalashnikov. With this laser, you could live. You unscrew it and hold it to your heart with a smile coming over your face.

You turn to Caesar and Zihang who are eyeing you warily. But you can’t stop smiling. “Okay, I’m going to mark one of them with the Anesthesia bullet dye okay? Don’t kill that one.”

Z. He was a genius… You chuckle and join the boys at the door.

"Are you ready?" Caesar sighs softly.

You nod. You’re smiling as you load a single Frigga bullet into your empty pistol. “Remember, don’t kill the one I mark!”

"Then let’s start!" Caesar slapped the button to open the door and stepped out in a big way.

A Deadpool was lying on the overhang in front of the weapons hall door. Reflex speed multiplied after the snake mutation, so it immediately struck at the back of Caesar's neck. But Caesar had already determined its position through the use of Scythe Itachi and fired upward with his shotgun. The Deadpool Sphinx fell to its back.

The shotgun was extremely powerful but not penetrating enough. After the wounded creature landed, it rolled to get up and recoiled to strike again. Chu Zihang's crossbow penetrates its abdomen to pin it to the ground, and the two Sten submachine guns fired into its forehead until the two cartridges were empty.

"No wonder everyone in the academy says you're a killer. I really like your kind of execution style." Caesar dropped the shotgun and pulled out two Sten submachine guns from the carry pouch behind Chu Zihang.

"I'm not interested in bloodshed, but I know that showing mercy to something like this will only get us killed." Chu Zihang's right hand drew up another gun from the backpack Caesar carried. Chu Zihang carried Caesar’s guns and vice versa. It was a nice way to keep efficiently armed. Chu Zihang looked at you in curiosity.

You weren’t using the laser sight to aim, but wiggled it against the ground as though fishing, whispering to yourself. “Heeere, Kitty, Kitty. Come here… I know you’re here…”

One of the deadpool that looked female with an ample golden chest and pretty eyes saw the red dot and opened her jaw ninety degrees to scream bloody-murder. Her eyes were as big as dinner plates. She slid her snake tail vigorously, physically pushing other beasts out of the way and leaving long gashes on them.

“There you are! Gotcha!” You fire a single anesthesia bullet. The red dye smashes between her eyes and paints her face crimson, clearly marking her. She covers her face with her claws in annoyance and wails in fury, associating the red dot with getting hit with a paintball.

You wiggle the dot in a zigzag pattern and she pounces on it with the anger of seven devils. Once you were sure you had her hooked, you scroll the red dot on the face of one of the deadpools who blinks once against the blinding laser light before its head is bitten clean in half by the female.

The spectacular result sends a burst of laughter from you. You loved him. You didn’t care if it wasn’t really love as others defined it. You loved Z. This was fun. This was fantastic!

You wiggled the point of light until she saw it again. She paused in confusion for a moment, her eyes burning brighter and brighter, then she was off again, galloping after the red dot and smashing into another of her own kind. The red dot danced on the back of her poor victim who had no idea that the attack was coming. The female deadpool with the red-dyed face tore through scales, muscle tissue and bone like a woodchipper.

Your laughter filled the whole burning temple. They were stupid! They were so stupid!

You had turned the female deadpool into a terror of her own kind. As she mowed through the crowded mural hall like a living blender, she left a trail of wounded behind her. The Deadpool, who were too cannibalistic and mindless to remember why they were there, immediately started to tear each other apart as soon as one smelled the blood of the other.

It was an absolute bloodbath and you had only fired one non-lethal shot.

Caesar and Chu Zihang looked at you in stunned amazement. You looked back at them, crying with laughter. You didn’t have a birthday, but this was like a present, the best present you’d ever received. Z had buried this little Easter egg in the ground, hoping you’d find it. It was for you. No one else would get the joke!

#Dragon Raja

15 notes · View notes

crescentsteel · 4 years ago

Text

Just Friends - Part 5

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo as a university student, model fem reader warnings: a bit angsty I guess? word count: 5100

A/N: - Thank you so much for those who reblogged every...freaking...chapter I- - Special thanks to @cherryonigiri for the shoutout last week. ur too kind :( - I’ve been writing every single night since Chapter 1, and I can feel the burnout coming. So it might (MIGHT) take longer to finish the next one. - Should I do a taglist or sumthin? I remember someone asking before but didn’t go through it cause I don’t think a lot are interested lol

Part 4 | Part 6 | m.list

“We got the shots. Thanks everyone!” The creative director, Mitsuki, wraps up the shoot. ‘Thank God,’ you thought. You head to the dressing room and change into your own clothes.

Mitsuki goes to you after you change. You’ve worked with her several times since she’s well-known in the industry. You like her because he’s approachable and is easy to work with. You often share nonwork-related conversation during shoots.

“You look dreadful. What happened to you?”

She just had to remind you that you barely slept. You were tossing and turning trying to not think about last night’s events. You only had two hours of sleep and you exist right now only because of caffeine. Although, your eyes sting and you can feel a headache coming. Still, you’re thankful for today’s work. Because of it, you’re preoccupied with something else other than him.

“Rough night.” You answer lifelessly.

“Oooh, do tell,” she looks at you meaningfully, hoping for any juicy story you might be holding. Unfortunately for her, it’s not something you’re ready to share with anyone.

“Next time, Mitsuki.” You give her an apologetic smile and go to your car.

Once on the driver’s seat, you check your phone for any text message. No new messages. Disappointment hits you. You don’t know what you’re expecting exactly, but you just want to hear from him. He’d pester you when you don’t want him to, but now that you do, he doesn’t.

You throw your head back at your seat. Kuroo has definitely screwed you beyond his bed. This is so unlike you.

If you need something, you get it yourself. That’s how you are and what you should be doing. You can no longer ignore your feelings and expect them to go away. You doubt you’ll be sleeping with him again anyways, given your current state.

You’ve never had this set-up with anyone else but you’re pretty sure that not one party should develop any romantic feelings. You need to let him know that you are confused and you’re misinterpreting his actions recently. You don’t know how things will turn out, but at least you’ll get some clarity as to what you two are. Rattling your brains out won’t give you an answer, talking to him would. He’ll probably figure out what you feel for him even if you don’t spell it out.

You’ve never confessed to anyone, you’ve always been on the receiving end. To be honest, you don’t want to. But to hell with your pride if you can’t function properly because of it.

With your mind made up, you send him a message.

‘Hey. Wanna meet tonight? I need to tell you something.’

–

He arrives at the bar where you first met. That’s where you told him to be. He goes to the counter and is deciding what he’ll have before you show up.

He went a little earlier than what you said in your text. He’s doing nothing anyways and he couldn’t stay still. You made it seem important. Maybe it was about last night.

When you let him in your place, he was really pleased. He thought you could continue where you left off. You were tense back on the rooftop, but he considered it was because of the open space. But when it was only the two of you, you were more flustered. It was so cute actually. You’re always so feisty in and out of bed, but last night you looked timid and vulnerable even more than you did when he went to your university.

Since when were you so threatened by him? There’s no need to be. It’s not like you like him or somethin.

As if. He’s already lucky enough to be banging you, he won’t kid himself into thinking you like him.

…

But what if you do? On the slight chance that that’s what you’re gonna tell him, how should he respond? He hasn’t really thought of it. You’re always so guarded and seem like you’re in only for the fun as well. That was the case until you’ve been spending a lot of time without actually fucking. You slowly filled him in the gaps of who you are as a person and boy, does he like you a lot. Even Kenma does, to the point that Kenma’s been hinting that you two should date. He usually dismisses it as you and him are only ‘good’ friends. Although he’s positive that Kenma’s not buying that shit. Kenma probably knows what’s going between you two.

Also, you’re the only girl he’s shagged exclusively for this long. Usually, this set-up is good for him only for a month or two tops. It’s been more or less 6 months already with you, but it’s never boring, sex or not. He’s always looking forward to seeing you. He likes it when you always have a quick-witted counter to his provocation. He finds it adorable when you let him take care of you. Your face when you blush is just too fucking precious. It warms him up when he sees you genuinely smiling. He won’t mind at all if you continue like this longer.

Ah shit.

“Glass of whiskey,” he tells the bartender. He immediately drinks the liquor, the burn on his throat soothing the riot going on on his head.

It sounded like he’s way past just liking you. He takes another sip at his own frustration. He shouldn’t be thinking this hard. It was just a what-if situation anyway. You probably don’t like him that way, and now he’s upset at the conclusion he came up with.

It’s bad to have feelings for you. First, he doesn’t know how you feel about him. If he lets you know that he does, you might cut him off from the ‘benefits’ of your friendship. Your chemistry in bed is too good to let go. Second, let’s say you do like him, is he really sure of what he’s feeling? Isn’t it just because you’ve been so physically intimate for so long that he’s mixing it up as something remotely close to love? He doesn’t want a half-baked relationship if you both decide to take things seriously.

“Need some company?”

A pretty blonde girl sits beside him. Pretty, but nowhere near as pretty as you are. He checks his phone for the time and if there’s any message from you.

45 minutes till your said meet up time. He takes his drink and ushers the blondie to a standing table. The conversation he shares with her is casual, at first at least. After a few minutes, she’s already batting her eyes at him and bites her lip every now and then. Her touch on his arms lingers when she playfully slaps his biceps.

All too easy. He’s not even trying.

Since the opportunity is here, guess he’ll go for it. He’s definitely not sleeping with this blondie, but a 'lil playtime before you arrive won’t hurt. Maybe that would clear up the confusion in his head.

Alright, blondie. Whatever she’s rambling about, time to shut up. He grabs her shoulders and goes for her lips. She pulls him closer by putting her arms around his neck. She lets out a soft moan in the kiss.

A few seconds, but still nothing. He has to try harder. He grabs her ass to feel her more, to excite himself, to get rid of unwanted thoughts on his head. He closed his eyes shut and focused on the body that he’s holding at this moment.

‘Congratulations, Kuroo.’

Scenes from last night rushed in his head. Your smile. Your lips against his. The warmth of your body succumbed to him.

He can’t do this.

He harshly pulls himself away from the girl. He tastes something vile in his throat that doesn’t resemble anything close to the whiskey he’s having. It’s horrible. He’s disgusted with himself. All he could think about is you. It doesn’t feel right with someone else. It should be you he’s holding.

He thought himself smart, but right now he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s being a fucking idiot. How could he think that this nobody of a lady can take you off his mind? How dare he touch someone else right before meeting you?

“What’s wrong?” She whines while her eyes are pleading for him to continue. He smiles sourly.

“Sorry, but I’m actually with someone.” The blondie’s face got all scrunched up.

“Douchebag,” she mutters as she walks away. And that he is, a total douchebag.

He goes back to the counter and orders himself another round. Looks like he needs to tell you something as well.

–

You came just a tad bit early. You managed to take a nap, but you woke up before the alarm set off. You’re still restless, but you feel a bit better than this morning. You decided to meet Kuroo at the bar where you first met. Weird place to talk, but you don’t wanna come off as too serious about it. You want it to be as casual as possible, as casual as confessing could be. Where could be more casual than the place where you first hooked up?

You can’t decide if that was genius of you or plain moronic, but you go with it anyway.

You’ve already pep talked yourself while driving. You know the words to say. You’ve rehearsed them in your head. You’re ready.

Right when you enter the bar, you start feeling queasy. Can you really do this? You go to the restroom to clear your head. If you go to your car, you might just back off and go home.

You look at yourself in the mirror. There’s no alcohol in your system but you’re flushed already.

“Oops, sorry.” It’s a drunk girl who’s now giggling at her clumsiness. She stops when she looks at your face. “Oh deaaaar, you look like you’ve had tsu many. Yer so red. You okaaay?” She seems really concerned, but you can’t help but be amused. She’s slurring way too much. She worries for a stranger getting too drunk when she, herself, has probably had too many already.

You snigger. “Yes, I am. Are you?” You throw back the concern she just gave you. She cackles at your question. “I donut know. Am I?” It’s contagious. Being anxious about your plans tonight, you’re more susceptible to humor. A second later and you’re laughing as well.

“Um. Thank you,” you smile at her. She just eased up your nerves without even knowing it. You exit the comfort room.

You try to find a comfortable place to seat yourself when you see Kuroo talking with a blonde girl. He doesn’t look interested at all, but you notice her touching him flirtatiously. You don’t do anything. Why should you? That’s up to Kuroo. Any moment now and he should be shoving her away. He’s meeting you after all.

You keep watching and waiting, until he puts his drink on the table and does the complete opposite of what you’re expecting. Your feet stay planted on the ground as everything unfolds right before your eyes, everything getting worse as seconds tick by. They’re basically clinging onto each other with her arms around him and his hands on her waist, all while engaged in intense lip-locking. He looks really into it. His hands travel down to the girl’s butt, and that’s about it for you.

You turn on your heels and make your way to the door. You feel like actually throwing up. Not only that, you’re suffocating as well. The neon lights make you dizzy. The music makes your ears ring. Every damn thing about this place hurts.

“Watch it!” you hear someone say, but you ignore it. You’ve been bumping into people while you scamper your way to the exit. You don’t care. You need to get out of here fast. You can’t stand it.

The exit is just a foot away. You extend your hand at the doorknob and hurl your body to make it outside. The fresh air was piercing against your lungs, reminding you how much of a reality was the scene you just witnessed. The relief you’re expecting and longing for doesn’t come.

Sadly, you can’t just stand there while people are passing you by as they enter the place. You need to go.

Each step you take is heavy. Each step vibrates through your whole body. You couldn’t process anything. The only thing you know is you want to go home. You want to be alone. You want to scream.

“Y.n.?”

Perfect. Just perfect. The flood of emotions surge through you when you see Kenma. What’s he even doing here?

“Have you seen Kuroo?” He says something after but you can only make out certain words.

Keys. Meet. Okay.

You want to speak but your throat hurts. You can feel your whole body shaking at how hard you’re trying to keep it together.

“What did you s-s-s…” You can’t finish your sentence. You bite your lip so hard that you taste blood. That would be better than you breaking down in public. Still, you can already feel tears in the corners of your eyes. One more word and you’ll probably lose it.

Kenma moves closer to you, studying your face. You try to hide it, but you know that anyone with two functional eyes can see that you’re in pain. He looks around, eyeing for a place where you can talk in private.

“Did you bring your car?” You only nod once. You don’t need to say anything for him to follow the direction you’re heading at. You keep your breaths short for you fear that an impeding sob might escape.

You both get in the back seat.

When the doors shut, you throw your head back to the seat.

“Y.n., what happened?” You face him with blurred vision from the tears you held. He’s never been expressive, so when you see intense worry on his face, you crumble.

You cover your mouth with trembling hands to tone down your screeching sobs. You weren’t aware that you could get hurt this much. The scene you just witnessed keeps replaying in your head. It hurts. It hurts. You want it to stop, but it doesn't.

You feel a hand patting your head. It was oddly comforting.

“I fell for him,” your voice strained from how hard you cried. You don’t want to get into the details of how last night was enchanting for you, how he made you feel things no else had. How special he made you feel. You even thought that there was a chance that he sees you more than the ‘friend’ you are.

Kenma’s expression remains the same. He must’ve known already. Were you that obvious? Were you so easy to read? If he knows, does Kuroo know too?

He stays silent, waiting for what comes after what you just said.

“I saw him with someone else inside.”

“Maybe it’s just someone he knows.”

Someone he knows, huh? Wasn’t that how you two started? There at that bar, cocktail in your hand, his lips on your neck. Tonight isn’t any different, except it was not you he’s holding.

“You should talk to him, y.n. I think he feels the same to you.” An empty laugh erupts from you. It was bitter and pathetic. Like you.

“You were right before. We aren’t just friends. We are fuck buddies above all. That’s why he likes me. I’m a convenient lay for him.”

Another wave of sadness comes. You feel the warm streaks of liquid in your cheeks again. You let it trickle down your face.

That’s how much of a real relationship you can get from Kuroo. Pretense of friends while letting yourselves get off to each other. At the end of the day, you weren’t his and he wasn’t yours to keep. You could easily replace each other. Let someone else warm your beds.

All this time, you haven’t slept with anyone else. You’re satisfied with just him. You thought it was an unspoken agreement that it would only be you two. Even if casual, you thought it was exclusive. But that might not be the case. Tonight was proof that you could easily be replaced. Or worse, you could just be one of them.

Now you have another emotion added to your tray of feelings. You’re furious. He could’ve at least told you that you were having sex with other women. You saw him as a friend. If he was decent enough, he should’ve at least told you that and let you decide if you still want to keep your arrangement.

Being friends with benefits sucks big time. You shouldn’t have done this. You were confident that you could handle it. Obviously, you thought wrong. Falling stupidly in love with Kuroo is downright deplorable.

“Go back inside y.n. It might not be what you think it is.”

“I was going to confess tonight, you know. I was the one who asked him to meet. Only to find him canoodling with some bimbo while groping her ass. Tell me Kenma, is it not what it is?”

You see Kenma squirm on his seat. “What the heck is he doing?” He whispers while his eyes dart to the bar you just came from.

You sniff and wipe your face with the hem of your shirt. “Screw him,” you say.

Kenma presses his lips together, as if trying to hold back something he wants to say. You didn’t want to, but you figure it out anyways.

“But I already did, didn’t I?”

Kenma smiles apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Do you want me to hit Kuroo and stuff?” he adds.

You imagine Kenma throwing Kuroo’s PS4 at him, which makes you giggle. You’d be willing to pay big time to see that happen.

“Thanks, Kenma. You didn’t have to be here, but you are.”

You’ve never had too many friends from your upbringing. Sure you hang out with people, and there were really fun times. But no one was there when you felt lonely. You got used to it. You didn’t know that it was this relieving to have someone just actually be there.

“But please, no matter what. Never tell him you saw me.”

“But what if he asks?”

“I was never here.”

He nods.

“Will you be okay?”

“Somehow... You should go, Kenma. I’ve kept you long enough.”

You both exit your car at the same time. Before you move to the driver’s seat, you call Kenma.

“I’d appreciate it if you accidentally hit him with a controller.” You put air quotes on ‘accidentally’. “Maybe twice or thrice. I’ll replace it when it breaks,” you add. Kenma grins the widest you’ve seen him do.

“You’re funny, y.n. Kuroo is dumb.”

You smile faintly. “Thanks, Kenma. Really.”

–

It’s been months since you’ve left Japan. Now you’re back. You have mixed feelings as you find yourself in the familiar airport terminal. You look at the gate across you. That was exactly where you exited before, with your eyes swollen and your heart broken.

You left because it was too much for you. You realized how spoiled you were in life, always getting what you wanted. You didn’t have any relationship you could call authentic, but in the same way, you had nothing to lose. No friendship fights, no drifting aparts, nothing. So when you fell for someone who wasn’t yours to keep, it tore you in ways you weren’t cognizant of.

You cut him out after that certain night in the bar. You blocked his number, his social media accounts, and warned the staff in your condo to not let anyone visit. You were scared that if he reached out, you would yield to him. Because despite the misery he brought, you missed him. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to do that. You wouldn’t continue to be his play thing while sinking deeper into that hell hole of loving him.

That’s why you had to leave. But before you did, you gave in one last time to your wretched feelings. You unblocked his number and texted him.

“What I really wanted to tell you the other night was I’m leaving. Want to meet before my flight?”

You didn’t know what you wanted back then. Parting sex or for him to stop you?

It didn’t matter though. Since he did not show up, much less even replied.

For some reason, you felt like letting Kenma know that you were leaving. He was there when you were broken, and in a way, he's your friend too. You leave him a brief goodbye message and never let Kuroo know the details of your disappearance.

Then you boarded the plane with crushed hopes and a shattered ego.

That time, you’ve never been more grateful that you came from a privileged family. You left your studies behind and flew to the U.S. There, you continued your modeling career. You began taking it seriously. You were no longer picky - big or small project, you accepted it.

You came back because several Japanese brands wanted you as their model. You obliged of course. You liked being busy and you believe you’re good at what you do.

Your phone reminder about tonight’s event goes off, speaking of which. The shoe brand you worked with in the US is launching their line in Japan. They just made you their official Japanese brand ambassador.

No rest for you. Just how you wanted it.

–

The MSBY members line up when they arrive at the place. Media immediately catches up with cameras all over them.

“Hey hey heeeeey!” Bokuto yells eagerly to the photographers.

Atsumu is doing his signature fist in the air pose before he serves.

Hinata is smiling ear to ear with his hand on his head, not knowing how to pose for the media. Sakusa, on the other hand, has his hands on his pockets with no expression on his face.

Kuroo might have made a wrong decision in letting Sakusa be the fourth person to attend. He should’ve chosen someone more camera-friendly from their roster. Oh well. What’s done is done. What’s important is he got to sign a deal with the brand to sponsor MSBY.

When he graduated, he immediately got accepted at the Japanese Volleyball Association, Sports Promotion Division. It’s just as he wanted, to make use of his education and still be involved with the sport that he loves.

Part of tonight’s job is going around and greeting the Marketing staff of the brand. He engages in small talk and thanks them for the opportunity. The event is simple, nothing too fancy. It’s a bit dull for his taste, probably because the shoe line is all-encompassing - lifestyle, sports, formal wear. Hence, the lack of a specific theme.

After the obligatory chatters, he goes back to where he left the guys, but finds not one of them there. Damn it.

One thing he likes about his job is he got to reconnect with several people from his high school who are now part of the Japanese pro teams. The drawback is that sometimes he has to handle them, especially at events like this. He knows Bokuto and Hinata all too well, so he knows how to manage the two. However, with Miya and Kiyoomi in the fray, it’s a different ball game. Knowing how chaotic the four can get, he picks up the pace.

‘For Christ’s sake, they better not be fucking around.’ He says in his head while his eyes search for any of the four.

Unknown to Kuroo, Atsumu is strolling around the area with Sakusa after the photographers had their fill of them. He suddenly stops and fixates his gaze on something that catches his interest. “Omi-kun. Imma introduce myself to that chick over there. Couldja not tell Kuroo-san?”

Sakusa looks at the direction Atsumu’s looking at. When he sees the subject of interest, he scowls. He’s already sure that Atsumu’s about to make a move on the girl he just eyed. “Don’t. Technically, we’re at work.”

It falls on deaf ears. Atsumu waves nonchalantly as he walks away from him. He’s gonna get that hot chick’s number and no one’s stopping him.

“Miya-san! We were looking for you.” Hinata suddenly appears. Atsumu doesn’t notice him approaching because his attention is on the girl.

“Yeah, Tsum-tsum. Where did you go?” Atsumu glares at Bokuto. “Don’t call me that in public!” he says angrily in hushed tones. He looks around to see if anyone heard, then lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Oh look. There’s a cute lady!” Hinata says with excitement. Bokuto’s eyes go after where Hinata is looking at. “Woah! Let’s go greet her?” Bokuto asks Hinata enthusiastically. Hinata nods with the same eagerness.

Atsumu grits his teeth. “What the hell?! I saw her first!”

“So? We can all say hi.” Bokuto retorts innocently. Atsumu wants to snap at Bokuto’s lack of ability to take a hint. “Let’s go, Hinata!” Hinata and Bokuto march towards the girl. Atsumu walks briskly to catch up to the two.

“There’s no way you two are going before me” he says while getting a step ahead of them.

Sakusa looks at the three dunces who’s now hogging the poor girl. Even at a distance, he can hear their voices. He already knows that Kuroo will be smacking them if he sees them, including him, despite not being involved in their ruckus. He should pacify them before they do something more embarrassing.

He goes to where they are and grabs Bokuto’s shoulder. “Hey. Cut it out.”

“Oh, btw. This is Omi-kun. You should see him warm up. His wrists are so cool! But freaky.”

Sakusa’s eye twitches. It’s not his intention to be introduced, and the way Bokuto did it is not to his liking.

He looks at the girl who looks like she’s just putting up with them. “You’re bothering her.” He says, reprimanding.

Atsumu feels a firm grip on his shoulders. Must be Sakusa on his grill instead since he couldn’t faze Bokuto. Atsumu’s temper is seething at how he’s persistently getting cockblocked tonight. “Fuck off, Omi-kun.” he hisses under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

Atsumu freezes when he recognizes the voice. He slowly looks at who the voice came from, hoping that he was wrong. Very unfortunately for Atsumu, he was dead on. He stands up straight and looks somewhere else. The other three notices how he suddenly stops talking. When they look at him, they see Kuroo instead, his eyes in crescent slits and a sinister smile creeping on his face. They stop muddling around and stand up straight at the same time, joining Atsumu like a bunch of middle schoolers being discplined.

“Come on now, boys.” Kuroo says with hidden threat on his voice. He’s never putting these four in the same campaign again. He’s the same age as them, but he feels like he’s losing his youth when he’s working with these four oafs. He has to always step it up or else they’re all going to get in trouble. He sighs.

He turns to the girl.

“I’m so sorry about th-”

He blinks a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But he can’t be wrong. He can never mistake you as someone else. Everything about you is etched in his brain.

His eyes roam all over you, letting himself be captivated by you again - your alluring eyes, your soft lips, your breasts that fit just right in his hands, your legs that wrapped around his back when you felt too good.

It really is you in the flesh. You, who suddenly vanished and left him hanging right when he realized that he wanted more than what your friendship offered.

He had no idea what happened. That night when you said you were going to meet him, you did not show up. Not a text or call to let him know why, even the days after. But he let it slide. He thought maybe it was just your usual disappearing act. You did disappear though. For good.

A lot of times, he still thinks about a particular day. He stayed up all night drinking and playing games and when he woke up, he saw one text from you. He’s never been that excited just from one text. At last, you decided to show up again. His excitement quickly turned to panic when he read it.

“…I’m leaving. Wanna meet before my flight?”

A text that was sent hours earlier when he was still out of it. What if he woke up earlier? What if he read your text and met with you? What difference would that have made?

Until now, it’s still on his mind how he frantically pressed his phone keys and called you back as many times as he could, only to get a “cannot be reached” prompt every time. He tried searching for you but he couldn’t. Your social media accounts were all gone. Since he did not know anyone in your life, there was no one to ask. He thought you both had a chance, but in a snap, you were gone from his life.

It stung more than he wanted to admit. He eventually gave up. He wouldn't be able to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. Yet, you’re here, in front of him. Just a few steps and he can hold you.

Seeing you still as beautiful as he remembers, brings a familiar tug in his chest that he’s not sure he likes.

“Kuroo, if you wanted to say hi too, just say so.” Bokuto complains, noticing how he’s ogling at you as well. He notices how the other three are frowning at him as well.

He scoffs. These boys have no fucking clue that what he had in mind was more than meagerly saying hi.

“Yea, yea. My bad.” He puts his hands mid-air and pins a phony smile on his face. He turns to you and puts his hands on his pockets.

“Sorry about them.” You open your mouth to say something but your gaze drifts to the four Jackals who are looking at both of you. Instead, you smile politely and bow. What a fake-ass personality.

He’s at work and there shouldn’t be any monkey business, but he can’t resist the urge. He’s not having this polite facade you’re pulling right now. He hasn’t seen you in months. He needs to see the real you. He moves closer. You falter and take one step back. Too bad for you, his strides are longer. Just one step and you’re already within his grasp. Finally. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your jaw.

“How’re you, kitten?” He says a bit too loud than he wanted.

Your eyes become wide as saucers with crimson specks dusting your cheeks. He takes delight at the sight. You look exactly as you did on that rooftop.

Part 4 | Part 6 | m.list

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #kuroo testuro #kuroo x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo #kuroo x female reader #kuroo angst

101 notes · View notes