Tumgik
#I just love watching the slow unraveling of his hair in particular lmao
bluebeesknees · 1 month
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Stages of dealing with the ex that won’t leave you tf alone
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kurinoot · 3 years
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[day 2] two tempting bentos | ushijima wakatoshi
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-> being the manager of a powerhouse school sure adds pressure, but you’re there to prove to them that you are the right person for the job, especially to a certain well-known ace
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pairing: ushijima x reader
themes: fluff, manager!y/n, neither one of them has feelings for each other (yet!), continuation on white day special, slow burn (?)
word count: 2256 words
author’s note: sorry if I had to post this one late, as my dysmenorrhea was keeping me from working well (+ a bit of writer’s block) and I had to had this one proofread lol :( I hope you enjoy this one and drop any comments (and constructive ones) if you have one! also, thank you for a couple members of the hq discord server (I don’t know their un :() who willingly beta-ed (if that’s even a word lmao) this one.
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Thankfully, it was already lunch time, as the grumbling of your empty stomach finally prompts you to walk to the school cafeteria. On the way, you unconsciously pat your stomach as you finally feel the reverberations and the consequence of the lack of breakfast for today. As soon as you arrive, you immediately take notice of two familiar figures on a nearby table. One of them is already waving at you like one of those wacky inflatable tubes that you closely associate him with, which brings a growing smile on your face.
“Ah L/N-chan! Wanna come sit with us?” Tendou giddily invites you and ushers you to the vacant space beside him, which you replied with an eager nod, sitting beside him.  With Ushijima sitting in front of both of you, you took notice of him who seems to be occupied with drawing something, which piques your interest.
“I never knew you could draw, Ushijima-san!”, you initiated, surprised.
“Yeah. I drew quite frequently as a child,” he replies with his usual deep voice, looking stoic with eyes and hands still occupied with the drawing. Somewhat mesmerized by the sight and view of the ace drawing, you kept watching as it slowly unraveled before your eyes, seemingly forgetting that you haven’t eaten even a single bite of food throughout the day.
Tendou sardonically interrupts, “Manager-chan, you better eat if you don’t want to keep your stomach from waiting!”, which cuts your train of thought (and apparently your daunting stare at Ushijima’s drawing). He ushers a tray of his remaining food to your direction, to which you thank him for, albeit the embarrassment of not being able to bring your own lunch for the day. You quickly fold your hands and utter an “Itadakimasu!” before you began ravishing the remaining food, much to the pair’s dismay.
“So L/N-chan!”
“Hmm?”, you hum in reply; your mouth still chewing on the food you’re eating.
Tendou then inclines himself onto the table, with his chin resting on the back of his hands and smirking with narrowed eyes at your direction, “Have you made preparations for today’s training?”.
You almost choke on your food, with eyes bulging the moment he reminds you of your managerial duties as Tendou knowingly cackles in response. Ushijima however, despite the playful banter happening in front of him, was still focused on finishing his artwork, much to your chagrin and much to Tendou’s entertainment (despite getting used to it). 
“If you are only playing around as a manager, then you do not deserve to be our manager”
Both you and Tendou stop, with both of your attention drawing to Ushijima, who has now stopped scribbling and is now looking at the both of you, particularly you.
You blankly stare at him in shock, somewhat speechless, “”E-Eh?”.
“You need to stop fooling around and do your duties as our manager.”
Tendou, who seems to feel a little bit of unnecessary tension between you and the captain, can only look consecutively between you and him. He tries his best to somewhat support you by putting both of his hands on your tired shoulders, to no avail. He tries to casually interject, “Wakatoshi-kun! L/N-chan probably just hasn’t rested well today!”
“Besides”, you start, prompting the two boys to look at your direction.
“Everybody makes mistakes, and it’s not like I haven’t done my job properly!”, you end as you seek to prove the ace wrong and to show that you have been doing well as the manager of a powerhouse school for the past two years. With that said, Ushijima scornfully looks at you as he resorts back, choosing not to retort back as to not attract unnecessary attention.
The entirety of the conversation has somehow left an air of slight tension between you two, as a pregnant pause engulfs your table afterwards. What started out as a casual lunch had ended in unnecessary tension and silence. Tendou can only do so much as he tries to break the ice to try and stop the tension from developing into something worse.
“Oi, oi! See you later! Good luck with that, Wakatoshi-kun”, he exclaims, gun pointing at his best friend whose only response was a deep, guttural hum. He then glances at you. Still dazed from the events earlier, you did not get what Tendou meant as he winked at you knowingly before he wiggled himself out of the cafeteria, leaving you alone with Ushijima.
“Look, if you’re not doing well, how are you supposed to do your duties?”, Ushijima reminds you as he starts cleaning up his things to prepare for the next class as well as for the training later on. Speechless and dazed, you can only nod in response as he calmly leaves the table, leaving you alone clenching your fist and thinking.
I’m going to do my job and I’m going to prove him wrong!
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After a couple of days did you only realize that it’s already Valentines’ season and you know how much your friends are endlessly talking about making chocolates to give to their crushes as well as the girls in your class. You have been thinking for a while now of what to give the team as a gift just to celebrate the day in your own way as well as show your love to the boys. Then it got your mind reeling of numerous gift ideas.
“Y/N! Lunch is ready!”, you hear your mother call you from downstairs.
That’s it! I’ll prepare bento for them!, you thought out immediately, somehow thanking your mother in silence for giving you an idea in the right moment. You then blast out of your room with excitement, rushing downstairs to eat as well as ask for your mom’s guidance for your Valentines’ gift for the boys.
After a couple of attempts later, you were at least finally able to create a decent onigiri that brought you tears of joy, as you finally feel the worth of God-knows-how-many attempts. Your mother, who has been guiding you, clapped her hands in happiness as she shares the same sentiment.
A few days later, as it approaches Valentines’ Day, you decide to bring them each an onigiri as well as freshly-brewed tea to at least help them rejuvenate after training (and because you believed that it’s best to prove your worth as a manager).
Classes have just ended, so you gently pick up the onigiris that you’ve made as well as a big thermos of warm tea as well as the reusable cups and then make your way to the gym. To no surprise, you see Ushijima, who has already changed into his training uniform, already warming up while waiting for the others. He seems to notice your presence as he hears the shuffling sound of a plastic bag as well as the rattling of the cups. You continuously walk towards the nearby bench where Coach Washijo was already waiting, who then sees the food and drink you’re carrying.
“Ah, I’ve made some food and tea for them after!”, you say the moment you saw the coach’s eyes went to the food and thermos. Washijo only smiles at your outburst, somehow seeing your intent as the manager.
Meanwhile, you unknowingly feel Ushijima’s stare at you as you feel a sharp shiver in your spine and a sudden flutter and racing in your heart beat, which was somehow an entirely new feeling for you. Only then you turned around and saw the ace staring at you, with intentions somehow unclear to you.
I must be palpitating, I think, you thought to yourself, dismissing the fluttering feeling in your heart. You have already made sure that your main priority as the manager is to only do your duties to support the boys and nothing more beyond that. 
You dismiss everything and you just went back to your daily managerial routine, setting aside the food and tea you prepared as well as helping to mop the floor free from sweat and all.
After the training, you immediately bring up the bag of onigiri that you’ve made, which caught the attention of the other members, Goshiki in particular.
“”Woah! L/N-senpai brought us food!”, the budding ace exclaims as he quickly grabs his share of the food from your hands. You then distribute the other onigiris to the others, up until there are two pieces left. A smiling Tendou and a stoic Ushijima then walk towards you, with you already giving them the remaining food, to which they accept.
With that, you then start preparing the cups, pouring each with warm tea and giving it to each of the members. While pouring another one, you hear Tendou and Ushijima talking while they’re munching, somehow leaving you eavesdropping on the two.
“So how does it taste, Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou asks his friend as he munches into his own food, to which his stoic friend bluntly replies with “It’s not good”, leaving you disappointed which made Tendou cackle in amusement.
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The alarm of your phone rang early in the morning, prompting you to wake up, slightly scrubbing your eyes, and check your phone.
It’s already Valentines’ Day.
You already know that it might initially cause a stir within some of the boys, as Valentines is often seen as gift-giving only for intimate purposes, but you wanted to show how much you love them as your manager as well as be able to show your support for them, and you felt that preparing them bentos would be the best way to showcase it.
You were glad to wake up early, as you were able to prepare each bento just in time for you to prepare yourself for school. You smile in accomplishment as you comb your hair to finish organizing yourself before you go to school.
“Are you sure you can carry them?”, your mother asks with concern, especially after seeing your effort in making a bunch of them.
You sigh in assurance, “Mom, I’m the manager of a powerhouse school. I can do this!”.
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After class has ended, you immediately went straight to the gym to prepare for today’s training as well as prepare the bentos for the boys. To your surprise, even the early bird Ushijima was not yet there, which gave you more time to prepare and even rest before they arrived.
A few minutes later, the team has scrambled together into the gym, only to find you napping on the bench. Everyone slowly steps closer to you except Ushijima, who only stood still, hoping to not disturb your nap. Up until the rest of the team noticed what seemed to be bento boxes stacked together did they stop for a while and took interest in it.
Semi somehow gets ahold of one of the boxes, “Eh? They’re bento boxes.”, he hushes. He then examined the one he’s holding when he noticed a sticky note attached on the top. He reads, “Happy Valentines’ Day, Semi-san! With love, L/N-san”.
Initially, the team took it as a sign of confession, as they have knowledge of the special day today. Only did they find something else when Goshiki sees another box with the same sticky note message attached to it, only this time it belonged to him.
“L/N-san’s giving us Valentines’ bento?!”, Goshiki finally realizes, as the other members of the team finally went to check and see theirs. Tendou, in particular, laughs at the thought, not before he finds his designated box with the same sticky note message, immediately taking interest in it. 
Ushijima, who notices the silent onslaught on the bento boxes, finally decides to step forward. Tendou, who has become immersed in his own box, sees his best friend approach and then decides to pick up his box and then gives it to him.
“Here’s yours, Wakatoshi-kun!”, Tendou stirred as he hands out Ushijima’s designated bento box, or boxes rather. Ushijima accepts it, and right off the bat he notices the yellow sticky note attached with his name on it along with a mandatory ‘Happy Valentines Day!’ as well as your name. He gently opens the warm box and goes to see tamagoyaki and sausage octopuses on the side, and much to his internal delight, was a bed of Hayashi rice sitting nicely on the large portion of the box. He then goes to check the other box underneath to see a mix of steamed vegetables and a couple of pieces of sushi beside it.
Everyone was so immersed in their own bento box that they did not notice you waking up from your light slumber, and much to your shock, you wake up to see them already eating with happy smiles on their faces. Only then did they notice you awake when they hear you move from the bench.
“So, do you guys like it?”, you shyly asked whilst rubbing your eyes from your light slumber, only to find the entire team facing you with serious faces after scrubbing. Goshiki, the ever enthusiastic budding ace, praises you, “We love it, L/N-san!”.
You look around to see everyone eating their own lunches, and much to your shock, you actually see Ushijima eating the food and immersing himself in the bento boxes that you made for him. Somehow, Tendou looks at the both of you in amusement, taking note of the prior events. He then internally smirks on the possible development that is happening before his eyes.
Happy ‘Valentines’ Day, indeed, he thinks as he continues munching on his bento.
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back to valentines’ masterlist
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itsmattsunshinehere · 4 years
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Hello!! I was wondering if you could do a scenario with matsukawa and a shy reader? They get paired up for a project and matsukawa has never spoken to her bc she’s always quiet but as he gets to know her, he finds out she’s actually really funny bc she sends memes and they eventually fall in love 🤧 abit cliche but I’d love it 👉🏼👈🏼
Of course I can! I love Mattsun, so I’m always happy to write something with my sweet angel :)
I didn’t know how to put memes so there aren’t any BUT actually there are some nerdy jokes (wich I adore), like really really bad jokes. I kinda have the feeling Matsukawa only know these lmao, he’s dumb (BUT WE LOVE HIM). I hope it’s okay for you, please don’t hate me.
Thanks for your request, hope you like it! 😘💘
-L
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
A Change of Heart.
Matsukawa Issei x reader
synopsis: Matsukawa has never spoken to you, but something changes after you two being paired together for a school project.
word count: 2.1 K
tags: fluff
~~~
Matsukawa Issei. Of all the possible people, he was the last of your classmates you thought you could be paired with for group project. You don't have any problems with him, you don't find him annoying or anything else, it’s just that sometimes you forget about the presence of some of your classmates, Matsukawa included: you are a shy girl and you almost never talk during lessons; you often get distracted thinking about your own business, it is normal for you to not notice the people you don’t talk to, even more if they tend to be as quite as you.
On his side, even Issei hasn’t noticed you, too busy sleeping a few desks away from you: the night before he went to bed late, staying up until one o'clock only to play computer games with some friends.
Anyway, he's your science project partner and you can't do anything about it, even if you prefer to work alone and organize everything to your liking all by yourself, you'll have to collaborate with him and as you, even the guy agrees that for the sake of your GPA it will be essential to try to get along and cooperate. That's why at the end of the class, before your math teacher arrives, your project partner comes to your desk.
"Good morning Matsukawa-san." You greet him shyly, his height puts you slightly in awe, you’ve never noticed how tall he actually is.
"’Morning Y/N-san, apparently we are project companions." He replies to you yawning a little distracted, without looking too sure on what he’s saying; you get the impression that he would like to have been paired with someone else, probably one of his friends, but you try not to pay too much attention to your thoughts.
"Yes, that's correct." You nod looking at him again with a patient smile on your lips.
"I thought that maybe we could exchange our phone numbers to organize on what to do and when to see each other." The boy still keeps his eyes away from yours not looking at you but rather looking up at two of your classmates who are throwing a ball just a few feet from you. You smile at him once more and take your agenda, ripping off a sheet, and after writing some numbers, you give it to him.
"Here to you, I am almost always free every afternoon after six. How about starting in two days, maybe this Wednesday? Is it okay for you?" you ask him, and after thinking about it for a few minutes, as if he were consulting his own agenda mentally, the boy in front of you nods and after greeting you, he turns back to his desk.
You didn't think there were people quieter than you. Or maybe he thinks you’re boring. But what could you have done to him to make you so annoying? You put aside your bad thoughts and focus on the rest of the lessons, more concerned about your grades than the idea that your partner has of you. Of course, sometimes you tend to have no self-esteem, not trusting you’re decisions, but having never spoken to him, he has no reason to hate you, so you don't worry too much about what he might think of you.
But while you don't care about his thoughts, Issei can't say the same for himself: he's curious about what kind of girl you are, what a hobby you have... Why are you only free after six?? Are you in any club? Would you like to go to college? Are you moving to Tokyo next year as most of your classmates? He'd like to ask you so many questions, you intrigue him in a certain way, and he can't deny that you're a pretty girl. He finds adorable how you carry the pencil on your lips every time you stare at the sky out the window.
The two days pass fast, and from Monday you are almost immediately to Wednesday afternoon in the library, you waiting for him at the table on the corner and he who has to run because, due to Oikawa and his obsession with improving the whole team’s service, he is definitely late. The boy looks out the door of the room and rushes you to a table near the windows, listening to music with headphones in your ears and studying some subject. He joins you, slowing down the pace trying not to make any noise.
"Y/N-san." He calls you whispering, but you don't hear him, which is why he tries to get your attention by touching your arm as he sits by your side and you gasp surprised, causing him to giggle.
"I'm sorry if I scared you." You look at the boy with a gentle smile, moving your hand and telling him that he doesn’t have to worry.
“It's nothing, I was doing chemistry homework for tomorrow, but I can't calculate the reaction and find the name of this binary salt.” You say giving up your homework, changing the page of the book and taking the section assigned to you for your work.
"You know chemists are great solving problems? They have all the solutions." Matsukawa replay with a smile, taking your notebook and looking at what you've written.
"I tried telling a chemistry joke once, but I got no reaction." You watch the boy with a grin as Matsukawa lifts his head up surprised, definitely not expecting a joke from you, but you instead look at him laughing at his expression and Matsukawa gives you a sincere smile chuckling.
Time passes quickly as you organize your project and decide what and how to expose it to your classmates. You divide your work and begin your research together, each one giving his own contribution to the other, to try to make it better and giving a sense to what you are doing. When you look at the phone you realize that it is now seven and a half o'clock in the evening and you inform your project partner, who nods and you two begin to pick up your books. Matsukawa is faster than you, so waits for you at the library entrance.
"Y/N-san, I wanted to ask you a question." He tells you while he’s walking by your side, and you can't help but think about how many centimeters there are between you two. You nod kindly with your head.
"How come you never talk? You're funny." He asks you a little hesitantly, and you think for a second about what to answer. You don't know that either, it's not that you don't have any friends, it’s just that you're not the kind of person who starts a conversation. You have no problem talking to others, you just don't like to take the first step.
"Sorry, maybe I was too rude." Matsukawa says softly, worried that he has maybe offended you in some way, but you shake your head with a smile, trying to make him understand that he didn't do anything wrong.
"No don't worry. I can't give you an answer, I think it's just my character. I'm a very shy girl and I tend to stand all by myself, but I've never had a problem talking to people. Once I know someone, I have no problem opening up." you answer him by giving him yet another smile of the day.
Matsukawa looks at you as you walk past him and reach the school gate: part of him that morning had been convinced that he would be bored with you, he felt like you were a serious person, unable to make jokes or something similar. Yet you have happily surprised him, showing a side of your character that you keep secret and that maybe you only show to your closest friends. He feels a bit special.
You reach the gate and you greet him by according to meet at Friday at the same time and so on the following Monday, ending up meeting on those three days every week throughout the entire month, in the library at six in the afternoon.
It has become a habit for you, as well as exchanging messages, during lessons or in your free time. You start spending more and more time together, on lunch breaks you join Matsukawa with his friends in the school canteen, having fun joking with Hanamaki. Matsukawa feels that something has changed. He understands that he has started looking at you differently, seeing you always beautiful and always happy. He understands it from how he has started to notice details on your face; that little mole on your chin, how you tie your hair when you're focused on some math exercise.
A change in his heart.
He starts to think that yours are no longer just moments where you study, but that they are slowly evolving into something more intimate, much more like dating, where you joke and talk about anything. As you tell him how you would like to travel the world, he tells you about the few places he has visited abroad; while you talk to him about the reading club you're a part of, he tells you about his passion for volleyball and his dream of going to the Nationals tournament with his team. You unravel your secrets to each other, without fear, fully trusting each other.
Until one day, when Iwaizumi seeing him smiling atone of your message suggests him something, a particular idea that remains stuck in his head for days.
"You should ask her out." The ace tells him with conviction and the middle blocker looks at him doubtful, not too convinced that you may be interested in dating him.
"Definitely, you can’t take your eyes off her and you're always distracted. Push your pride aside and make the first move before someone takes her away from you." Hanamaki speaks by sitting on the bench next to him and taking a sip from his water bottle. Matsukawa bursts into laughter, though he can't deny that a certain annoying feeling has awakened in him. Maybe jealousy? Impossible, unless...?
The days pass and the date of the presentation of your project approaches, until you arrive at the last Friday before you have to expose your work in front of the whole class, Iwaizumi's words have not yet disappeared from Issei’s mind, as well as those of Hanamaki. What if someone realizes what a beautiful person you are and asks you out? Maybe he should make a move, or maybe they just told him to annoy him... he walks through the corridors until you reach the library that you have been frequented for just over a month. He sees you sitted in your usual place with the usual headphones in your ears and the usual chemistry notebook under your eyes.
He comes near you, moving the chair next to you and sitting to your right and you as always don't even notice him, too caught up in what you're doing. He touches your arm and as always you gasp, quickly turning towards him, while Matsukawa giggles for your reaction. You tongue out and punch him on his shoulder.
"You know you scare my Issei!" you scold him while once again the boy next to you takes your notebook and looks at what's wrong with your equations, remembering when few minutes before you text him that you couldn't do anything.
"Here you go. You miscalculated." Matsukawa answers by giving you back your notebook.
"Forget hydrogen, you're my number one element!" you smile him while he giggles a bit.
"Oh, it's that time of the day where we tell each other stupid chemistry jokes?" he asks you chuckling and you nod happily.
"Well I hope you love science, because tonight we are going to have a chemical reaction." The boy immediately answers you and you can't hold back a laugh, getting the attention of the last remaining students that like you are study and the librarian, who throws you glances from behind her desk. Embarrassed, you apologize and look over Matsukawa, while the boy has a sip of water.
"How about you ask me out first?" you whisper him, blushing instantly, and the boy almost chokes with water and begins coughing, while you try to help him, this time you're the one giggling for the other’s reaction.
Once calmed down, Matsukawa looks up at you, as red as you. Did you really say that? He tries to think of what to answer quickly, not wanting to waste the opportunity.
"There’s a Cafe where they make delicious pancakes." He proposes you embarrassed and you look at him happy, beginning to pick up your books under Matsukawa's eye.
"It’d be amazing." You stand up slowly, sticking your hand out with a smile. Matsukawa copies your movements and gets up taking his backpack. He squeezes your hand with a wink.
“Let’s go.”
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12) ‘things you said when you thought I was asleep’ w John x Ell 🥺
u know what jess? i was gonna say sorry about the fact that this is primarily john being horny and that i slapped that request right at the end, but u brought this on urself!!!
set ancient names adjacent, not that it matters too much--there’s hardly any plot in here lmao.
explicit sexual content under the cut, along with some softness. but mostly 2.1k words of john being a ho and liking when el lets him take the lead. (ꈍᴗꈍ)✧・゚
send me a prompt + a couple and i’ll procrastinate with a oneshot or blurb!
John liked to talk.
A lot.
It was one of his more endearing qualities. And frustrating ones too, all things considered; but it was a good way for Elliot to gauge what was going on in his head. John tended to talk for a plethora of reasons; including, but not limited to, lying, getting caught in a lie, trying to be charming, trying to be threatening—trading verbal blows was an Olympic past time for John.
“—and anyway, I think that the insinuation you wouldn’t let me fuck you if we met before this is categorically wrong,” he said, trailing after her into the bunkhouse. “After all, I just about snagged you, didn’t I? At the bar?”
“I thought you were handsome,” Elliot replied tiredly. “That was before you opened your mouth.”
“Actually,” John clarified, “if you’ll recall, you were very much interested until you were spirited away. Now, I can’t account for what things might have been said about me to have dissuaded you from being interested in me—”
“Do you ever stop talking?” she asked, turning to look at him. He grinned, wolfish, but she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’m serious, John. Do you ever shut the fuck up for like, even a minute? Have you tried it? It’s really cool.”
“Hm.” He didn’t sound impressed. He uncrossed her arms, having closed the bunkhouse door behind them, and leaned in to kiss her; she tilted back just out of reach.
“Answer the question.”
“I’m a lawyer, hellcat,” he replied, eyes glittering with amusement. “Why on earth would I ever stop talking?”
She rolled her eyes. “A real estate attorney.”
“I still had to go to school for it!” John exclaimed. He regarded her for a moment before he slid his arms around her waist and tugged her close. “Besides, you know what talking a lot has gotten me that being quiet wouldn't have?”
Elliot didn’t bite—not right away—because she had an idea of where it was going. John just absolutely couldn’t resist the opportunity to tout some kind of skill that he thought he’d garnered and that clearly no one else could commit themselves to as well as he, and she was the last person who wanted to feed that ego of his.
“Elliot,” he murmured after only a second had passed, and he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the slope of her neck, “do you—”
“Fucking Christ, what, John? What insurmountable skill have you gained from talking so much? Aside from making me want to pull my own eyeballs out, of course.”
She could feel him grin against her neck, hands splaying against her spine—and against her better judgment, Elliot leaned a little into the touch, the feeling of his mouth skimming down her neck enough to making her spine prickle with a wicked kind of anticipation.
“It means I’m really good with my mouth,” he told her, voice silky. Instantly, she felt heat crawl up into her face; he continued, quite satisfied with himself, “Should I give a hands-on example?”
Elliot cleared her throat. Yes, her body said, instantly; and even when she didn’t respond, John was already nudging her back against the bed, fingers deftly undoing the button of her jeans just as he slid to his knees on the floor, nestled between her legs. It was insidious, how someone could be so handsome like that. In a position of serving.
“Your Honor,” John rumbled playfully, “I am but a humble real estate attorney—”
His fingers tugged her jeans down, and propped up on her elbows as she was, she could see—and feel—the way he dragged his mouth along the exposed skin of her abdomen and down down down. “John—”
“—but please, allow me to redirect your attention,” he continued, completely disposing of her jeans and underwear and pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, then inside of her thigh, then the crux of her hip, “to Exhibit A.”
Elliot opened her mouth to tell him this wasn’t necessary, that she knew he was good with his mouth—but by the time she’d started formulating her counter-argument, John had pressed his mouth to her; hot, and hungry, and he moaned into her the second he did like he’d just been waiting this whole fucking time for it. He gripped her hips as he flattened his tongue against her, and then he looked up at her—smug and relentless and impatient for her and oh so fucking good.
Arrogant fuckhead, she wanted to say, you think you’re so fucking good, but you’re not, you’re just—
“Oh,” is what she said instead of all of the other things her brain was firing off now; things like so fucking good and please, please don’t stop, and the single word left her in an exhale that caught halfway into a whimper. His movements slowed, and instinctively Elliot tried to shift—her traitorous body thought only to try and garner more friction, heat rushing through her and all of the blood roaring in her ears and her body tensing when he slid his tongue against the most sensitive part of her.
“Needy,” John murmured pleasantly. Already, heat writhed and twisted in the pit of her stomach; already, her fingers knotted in John’s hair and she wanted to say wait, wait, not so fast, and John—ever so well-fucking-versed at reading her body language—pulled his mouth away from her just before she could unravel. His tongue peeked out, swiping over his bottom lip, like he just couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, and she felt a bone-marrow-deep ache in her body for him.
“You taste so good,” John purred. “And you look so—”
“John,” Elliot managed out, her voice unsteady, “if you don’t put your mouth back on me, I fucking swear—”
“Spoiled,” he interjected playfully. “Something you want? Just tell me where you like my mouth.”
Briefly, Elliot considered the logistics of murder. “Yes,” she ground out, “John, please stop talking, I—” Fucker. “—want your mouth on me, please—”
It felt like she was rambling now; but it didn't matter, because John did her the mercy of pushing two fingers into her, beckoning them in time with the movement of his tongue against her, and she made a sound that might have been a cry if it didn't feel so fucking good.
“Fuck, I—” He almost faltered for a second, and then plunged on seamlessly, “—love the way you look at me.” He ground out a low, hungry noise against her, eyes blown dark with want fixed on her own. “So sweet, aren't you, hellcat? Just for me—”
Elliot sighed her agreement, lashes fluttering at the feeling. He leaned back into her, tongue flicking and dragging wet, hot pleasure with it, his gaze half-lidded and fixed on her. The sound that came out of her was treacherous—beyond reproach, certainly, for a woman who didn’t want John to know the things that he did to her, but she couldn’t help it; the moan slipped out before she could stop it, and it sounded a lot like his name, and—
And that was fine. That would have to be fine, because John groaned against her and sighed, “Come on, El, don’t you want to come for me? Don’t you want to be so fucking good for me?” and she about came unraveled.
Well, about wasn’t the correct terminology for it. She did come unraveled, sighing his name when white-hot pleasure thundered through her body as the blood went roaring through her ears, and for a second the entire world went silent otherwise; John grinned at her from between her legs, dragging his thumb along his lower lip and dipping it into his mouth for another taste.
Stupid, infuriating, narcissist, she thought, watching the gesture and feeling a little starved even in the wake of her own pleasure—but a part of Elliot liked it, a big part, that a man felt hungry for her. This man in particular.
“So anyway,” he said casually, “that’s a benefit of talking all the time.”
Elliot’s hand slid to the back of his neck, tugging until he obliged her and was climbing onto the bed over her. She kissed him; and she could taste herself in the kiss, too, but she could only spare that a passing thought before John was pushing her shirt up.
“Should use your mouth for that,” she managed out breathlessly into the kiss, “more often than you do for talking.”
“I’ve got a couple of other talents I could make a case for,” he suggested in a pleasant rumble. His teeth caught her lower lip with only a light sting. “If you’ve got the time.”
She did have the time, whether she liked it or not, and that meant that by the time she was falling asleep that night her body ached pleasantly just about everywhere; a chilly breeze crept through the window that she’d opened the tiniest amount, and she was halfway to sleep when John stirred. 
“El? You awake?”
He said her name against the back of her neck, fingers tracing the scars that he had spent every chance he had memorizing over and over. She stifled a sigh and kept her eyes shut; crammed onto the tiny bunk because John insisted on sleeping with her, it was almost impossible for her to get any actual sleep as it was, not accounting for John wanting to have a witching hour chit-chat.
It was dark—too dark for him to see if her eyes were open, anyway—and she shifted a little. John’s mouth skimmed the slope of her shoulder; his breath fanned silky and warm against her skin, and she felt the flutter of his lashes. The gesture of it was a little painful, if she thought about it too much: John, touching and holding like he was afraid she’d fold up and disappear if he let go of her, and maybe—
Maybe, if she didn’t have him there to anchor her, maybe she would. There were enough pieces of her brain that considered it a viable defense mechanism to make it a possibility.
Elliot swallowed and shifted in bed, kicking her leg out from under the blanket without opening her eyes. Heat prickled up the back of her spine, tingling where John was pressed against her. He exhaled a short breath against her shoulder, almost like a laugh—and she thought maybe he did this often, watched the way that she was when he thought she was sleeping, because he wanted to know her better.
“—you,” he rumbled, his voice muffled by her hair, so low and quiet she almost didn’t hear it. He was trying his hardest not to wake her, probably; she laid still, exhaling slow and even through her nose; the bed felt like it was rocking and swaying beneath her in time with her heartbeat, and more often now she found herself looking to John for signals, in moments like these, to tell if it was real.
John slid his arm around her midsection and tugged her against him, burying his face into her neck, and he said, “Fuck, I love you, El—you make me so mad—sometimes, I can’t ever tell what you’re thinking and—”
His voice was barely audible, but that didn’t matter—that she heard at all what he was saying made her chest tighten uncomfortably, like he was sucking the air right out of her lungs, like the room had suddenly filled with smoke that she couldn’t breathe in. It was dizzying.
“—I think loving you,” he finished, his voice hoarse, “is going to be so fucking painful.”
Oh, she thought, because that was the opinion that she had of him. The words hadn’t come to her yet—not like that, not in that shape, not in the I love you, but she thought maybe it had come in different ways; looking to him first for comfort, holding on to him to feel real, to not feel so alone anymore. That felt a little like the same thing.
Everything in her itched and burned to roll over and kiss him. She wanted to say, me too, but the words wouldn’t come; not for lack of truth behind them, but because the moment lay cradled between them just like this, fragile and fresh, and maybe anything like moving was going to make it go away.
So, she didn’t. She closed her eyes tighter and sighed sleepily into her pillow, and pressed closer to him as though she sought him even in her sleep because she knew that John liked that feeling—of being thought of, wanted, even in something like sleep—and let herself enjoy the feeling of knowing something that John didn’t. For once.
Me too, Elliot thought tiredly. I think loving you is going to be so fucking painful too.
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hanalwayssolo · 4 years
Text
The Blue Hour
A/N: It’s been a long time since I wrote a reader-insert but I caved because I’ve been thinking about Sam Drake a lot these days and I seriously need deliverance. 
(Also: dedicating this to @oc-musings who’s been generous enough to put up with me on most of dialogue and scenario ideas lmao)
Link on AO3
Sam shows up at your doorstep in a time that is neither night nor day, with the cold, summer air whistling through your porch. He musters all courage as he offers you an invitation: “Come with me, there’s something I want to show you.”
His hands shiver slightly even as he says it. He can see the remains of sleep still lingering under your eyes as you groggily stare at him, and he hopes that you do not notice how desperate he is for you to say yes, and the unmistakable fact that he is really, truly nervous.
“Sam,” you say after a yawn that comes out as a tiny groan, “it’s four in the morning.”
“I know.”
“And you should be in bed. I should still be in bed.”
“Do you mean you want us together or—“
“Samuel.” You give him your most pointed look, but Sam smiles and he knows he’s already winning you over. At least, a little. “What’s this thing that you want to show me that it can’t wait until, I don’t know, maybe noon?”
Sam steps closer, his smile even wider. “Because my love,” he says, “this thing never happens at noon. And there’s no other person I want to do this with. So, what do you say?”
You stare at him again. He’s trying to get a read on your face, as he always does, and in his mind, all he can think of is: Please say yes.
“Fine,” you say after a breathless pause. “Give me five minutes. I’ll go and get changed.”
___________
When Sam showed up to your doorstep moments earlier, every inch of your tired and sleepy body has been inclined to say no, but as Sam drives his secondhand Camaro along the almost empty freeway and underneath a blanket of stars, the windows rolled down, the grassy, summer breeze caressing your face, you’re glad that you have said yes.
You have no idea where he is taking you. He seems decidedly insistent to keep it a secret until you two get to your destination, so you do not bother asking him at all. You’re used to it by now, all these little surprises every now and then that he has up his sleeve that never fails to keep you on your toes. He knows how much you like it, and he knows how he’s good at it, too. He is so good at making you smile that you are convinced that he has made it his life’s purpose to make you happy.
And you know he’s doing all of these things now to make up for all those fifteen years that he didn’t get to do so.
You have assured him that there is no longer a need for an act of penance. He insists that this is only an act of love.
And so in this hour that rests between the quiet space of night and day, you let him love you in the only way he knows how. He takes your hand and presses a kiss between your knuckles. Places it closer to his chest. He holds you as though he is still bound to lose you again. There is fear in his tenderness and so you squeeze a little tighter as if to say, I won’t go anywhere. You let the rhythm of his heartbeat flutter in the palm of your hand. All you want to do is to keep its song, to keep it singing for you. But most of all, to just be able to keep him this time around would be enough.
The road twists and turns into a zigzag amongst the shadows of cliffs and forests, and you can slowly hear the distinct echo of rolling waves not far away. The car draws to a stuttering halt, and as you and Sam climb out and trod against the crunch of sand beneath your feet, you finally realize where he has taken you.
Of course. You know this place.
“This is where we had our first date,” you tell him as you stare out at sea and the darkness that still enveloped it. “And where we used to watch the sunrise together.” The air is drenched in sea salt and dew, and the memory rolls back to fifteen years ago when Sam first brought you here armed with a picnic basket, a good bottle of wine, and a telescope, the two of you pointing out constellations and telling each other’s stories of lost civilizations and personal ambitions for the entire night until dawn. Ever since you’ve met him, you’ve known how he’s always had a way to carry the cosmos with him, to bring the dead back to life. After all, he did raise himself back from the dead. Now, he’s determined to give you the stars.
It’s been so long ago, that particular evening. And yet here, the memory of it burns in bittersweet nostalgia that you could not quite erase.
“I was worried you’ve forgotten about that.” From behind you, Sam loops his arms around your waist, presses a kiss on the crown of your head. “Sorry if I didn’t bring a bottle of Merlot this time, though.”
You turn to him and smile. “It’s fine,” you say. “Why exactly did you bring me here, anyway?”
“Well, to watch the sunrise, like old times,” he says with a one-shouldered shrug. “And, there’s also one thing, but I…” He trails off, shoving a hand inside the pocket of his jeans and reaching for the back of his neck with the other. You watch him walk away and step closer to the shore. Over the horizon, the sky is a Monet painting slowly unraveling against the darkness, unveiling solemn pinks and purples. The gentle crash of waves against the shore is the only sound that occupies the sudden silence.
“Sam?” you say after a long, unnerving pause. You can tell he is restless, and his restlessness only makes you nervous. “What’s the matter?”
Sam turns to you, bites his lip, forces out a smile. “It’s… there’s something I gotta tell you, and I don’t know how to do this, shit—“
“Samuel, what is it? You’re scaring me here,” you say sharply. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I…” He runs a trembling hand through his hair, takes a deep breath and expels it with a sigh. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking. These last few weeks back with you made me realize something, and it’s...” He swallows. There is a tremor in his words, and this time he walks closer to you, takes your hand in his. “I never stopped loving you, and I don't think I ever will. And I cannot afford to lose you again. I want to spend the next fifteen years of my life and the years beyond that with you and no one else. If you’d let me.”
You stare at him. And before you can even form the words out of your mouth, Sam gets down on one knee and pulls a ring from his pocket.
“I will totally accept if you turn me down after what I’ve put you through,” he tells you, “but I have to make sure nonetheless: will you marry me—“
“Yes,” you say quickly, nearly choking on your own tears. “Yes, absolutely, I’ll marry you.” You pull him up and as you do, he wraps you in an embrace so warm and tender and happy that he lifts you off the ground and you burst into laughter. The sound of it is music in his ears. And as the sun slowly rises in a sky that is sugar almond pink, the warm, sweet breath of the day sighing anew, he kisses you in the slow and gentle minute that passes, and it is the sweetest kiss you’ll ever know.
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