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belphegor1982 · 2 years

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“The night before we got married, I was so nervous. I came here to see Mr. Miyagi. He sat me down, poured me a cup of tea... and some sake. And we talked about you.”

Amanda’s last evening as a bachelorette with her family (mom, cousin, aunts and uncle) gets a little derailed by nerves. Sometimes you just need some perspective to help you sort everything out.

I’ve had season 5 of Cobra Kai doing cartwheels in my head and stuff to my heart for a month and a half (ish) now, in particular episodes 5, 6 and 10. What Amanda says in 5.06 about her conversation with Mr Miyagi made me wish we could have seen that kind of scene in the show. (and cry. It made me cry, big time.)

So I wrote it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

___________

In the Light of Tea and Sake

Winnetka, San Fernando Valley, 1999

“Well, I think that’s it.”

“That’s it? Really?”

“Yep. Everything on the list.”

Daniel took a sip from his espresso. How he could keep downing coffee at 6PM and still sleep like a log afterward had always baffled Amanda. Especially since he wasn’t exactly short on energy to begin with.

“Wow.”

Amanda took the paper, sliding it closer on the table. The ‘list’ in question was a little chaotic and largely symbolic anyway, but it was something, seeing all those checked boxes in front of various items like Pick up dress from the dry cleaner, Send RSVPs, or Order extra Lambrusco. They weren’t even in the correct chronological order, but every single one was crossed out.

For some reason her heartbeat was very loud in her chest, and she wasn’t sure all of it could be chalked up to excitement.

“We’re getting married,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Daniel flashed her a grin.

“Well yeah, that was the idea.”

“No, I mean… married.”

“That’s… a thing that can happen when two people decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together. You’re not going Runaway Bride on me now, are ya?”

A smile slipped past the tension in Amanda’s chest.

“And miss on the buffet afterward? Are you kidding?”

She was rewarded by a laugh and a cheeky grin, followed by an exaggerated waggle of eyebrows which Daniel was bound to know looked both ridiculous and charming.

Some of the weird tension inside her eased.

God, she loved that man so much.

At least that had never been in question.

“You’re so much prettier than Julia Roberts, anyway,” he said loyally, before adding, “Besides, you know the only thing that’ll be different tomorrow night is that we’re gonna be wearing a ring, right here.” He pointed at his left ring finger. “The ceremony’s just an excuse to get everyone we love together for once. Once that’s out of the way we’ll all stuff ourselves with great food, and dance, and we’ll have a great time. Oh, that reminds me – give me the list, I just thought of something –”

Food, dance, and all their loved ones in one place. Amanda couldn’t help but smile at the mental picture. Sure, when you put it that way, it all sounded so simple. Daniel had a gift for making complicated things sound simple, or at least straightforward.

But this shouldn’t be complicated, should it?

Except… Maybe it should. It was one of the biggest decisions of her life, after all, right up there with deciding to swap Ohio State for UCLA almost at the last minute and move halfway across the country. Talk about a leap of faith. At least she’d had Aunt Pat, and Jessica on holidays sometimes.

So. Maybe a few jitters were only natural.

She put her chin in her hand, letting her shoulders sag, and gazed at the man seated near her at their kitchen table. He was scribbling his last-minute entry on their list with the earnestness he usually reserved for tasks like writing letters or trimming bonsais. Things he loved doing.

Amanda smiled softly into her palm, almost despite herself.

“What are you adding?”

“Nothin’ important, just a couple of ideas for the music. You know, in case the DJ goes through his entire playlist and decides to take requests.”

“It’s our wedding, babe,” she pointed out. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be allowed a few requests. You know, besides the first song.” She paused. “Although I might have to bribe the guy with cake to get him to play ‘Always’ at some point. Preferably around 11PM when we’re all a little wasted on champagne and I can get you to myself for a slow dance.”

Daniel’s grin came back full force. “Way ahead of you.”

It was the second of the songs he’d added to their Things To Do Before The Wedding list, the first being ‘Desperado’, because he loved the 70s and 80s soft rock he’d grown up with. Besides the Eagles and Bon Jovi, the rest of the songs was pretty eclectic. Amanda was fairly sure he’d thrown in ‘Tutti Frutti’ specifically for his mom to lindy hop to.

With him, probably.

Daniel LaRusso was something of a momma’s boy (the logical result of having been a family of two for so long), a trait which against all odds Amanda found charming. If only Lucille’s attitude toward her didn’t set her future daughter-in-law’s teeth on edge…

Good thing Daniel’s close family didn’t stop at his mother.

Sometimes it felt just a little odd that he and the closest thing he had to another parent essentially called each other “Mister” all the time, like a teacher and his student, but over the years Amanda had learned to hear the terms of endearment behind the honorifics.

When she looked up from the list she met Daniel’s eyes, warm and a little bit wistful.

“Still set for your girls’ night, then?”

“It’s more of a games night, really,” she pointed out. “Besides, my uncle Brian will be there too, so I don’t know if you can really call it a girls’ night. But yes, I’d better get going. Aunt Pat likes everybody to be punctual for big dinners and I’ll be glad to see Jessie again. And mom,” she added as an afterthought, feeling vaguely guilty that it had to be a late addition.

“Okay. Well, enjoy your last night as a bachelorette.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me to not do anything you wouldn’t do?”

Daniel snorted.

“I think we both know the chances of that are pretty slim.”

“Oh, please. I know you’re a bit impulsive, but surely you couldn’t be that reckless as a kid, right?”

“That depends on where you rank ‘Blowing all my savings on a last-minute passport and round trip to Okinawa’ on your scale of reckless things people can do.”

“Pretty damn reckless, yeah. But in context it was also incredibly sweet, so as far as I’m concerned it doesn’t make the scale.” She leaned in to kiss him, lingering just a bit, hoping he wouldn’t feel just how fast her heart thumped an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. “I’ll see you at the church tomorrow, then.”

“Can’t wait,” said Daniel softly, all shining eyes and earnestness, with no trace of the nerves she realised with a flash of guilt she’d been trying to squash for a while.

No doubt there, no uncertainty. He was one hundred percent committed to marrying her and, like he said, spending the rest of his life with her – like his parents probably would have if his father hadn’t died way too soon.

Amanda had made her choice, wanted that, too, so… Why was she so goddamn nervous?

She turned up the volume on the radio in the car to drown out the question, and resolutely avoided glancing back at the cover bag that contained her dress for the entire drive to Aunt Pat’s Chatsworth house.

* * *

The door opened on Aunt Pat’s beaming smile.

“Heads up, folks, here comes the bride!”

Amanda barely had the time to smile back and say hi before she was engulfed in a warm hug and plied with questions about how she was keeping, and was she excited for tomorrow, and her well-being in general. Aunt Pat was a veritable whirlwind, her love as generous as it was relentless, and in the blink of an eye Amanda was whisked upstairs, hugged welcome several times, and seated on the couch between her mom and her Uncle Brian.

“So good to see you, honey.”

“How are you doing, Mandy?”

God, she’d missed them. But she hadn’t missed being the last guest who inevitably took the spotlight and got mobbed.

Amanda found herself calling on everything she and Daniel had had to learn when they’d started selling cars to and rubbing elbows with North Hollywood royalty in order to mask the anxiety churning dully in her stomach.

(Those people could smell impostor syndrome a mile away, like sharks with blood in the water. You needed the right smile, the right poise, and a self-confidence that could shatter a rock. She’d gotten surprisingly good at it. Daniel was still working out some kinks.)

“Oh, well I –”

“Don’t crowd the poor girl,” exclaimed Aunt Maggie from the staircase. Presumably she’d been the one to take Amanda’s overnight bag and dress upstairs to what had been Jessica’s room once. “Canapés, sweetie? Brian made them specially for you.”

“I know you like ‘em,” Uncle Brian chimed in with fake bashfulness and real pride, handing her the plate.

Amanda picked one – a spinach and goat cheese pastry, nice – and grinned. “Thanks.”

“He’s not the fancy caterer you picked for the wedding reception, but nothing can beat your uncle’s cooking, right?”

“Mom,” said Jessica from the armchair she’d sat in after welcoming Amanda with a brief hug like everyone else, “please. You promised you wouldn’t say anything more about the catering. I’m sure it’ll be great,” she added with a smile in Amanda’s direction. The warmth of it eased a knot that had just started to tense in Amanda’s shoulders.

Aunt Maggie sighed the heavy sigh of the put-upon, but thankfully didn’t protest.

“So, Jessie,” said Amanda swiftly, before more questions or remarks about her upcoming wedding, “how’s Nick? And Holly and Paige?”

“They’re fine,” Jessica said, helping herself to more appetisers. “Nick’s minding the girls tonight.” She laughed. “They’re all psyched up about tomorrow, but I don’t know how much of that is getting to sleep in a hotel or the prospect of hurling flower petals at people tomorrow. We’re gonna have a couple of excited little gremlins on our hands until they serve the cake,” she added with transparent fondness.

Amanda shook her head with a snort. “Sorry about that. If I’d known asking them to be flower girls would create monsters…”

“Don’t worry, they love you and Daniel to pieces. They’ll keep their mischief down to tame levels for your sakes.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Amanda raised the glass of white wine Aunt Pat had just put in her hand and toasted them both.

There was a scoff to her right.

“What, Mom?”

“Nothing, darling, just… I still don’t understand why you’d want to put yourself through all this hassle. I understand wanting a big family reunion, but you don’t need a wedding for that. Do you know just how many marriages end in a divorce these days?”

Amanda had to force herself to take a second to breathe – in through the nose, out through the mouth, Mr. Miyagi’s voice echoing in her head the way it did when she did her yoga while he and Daniel did katas – and attempted to smile. The result felt more strained than what she aimed at. She must really be off tonight; usually her diplomacy game was much better than that.

“Four point one for every thousand Americans1, I know, Mom. You told me. Several times.” At least she still knew the exact amount of warning needed in her tone to make her mother know she was toeing the limits. “But it was my choice. Our choice.”

For a second, Joanne appeared to have a ready argument on her tongue. Fortunately, it was the moment Aunt Pat chose to clap her hands and ask her to help her set the table.

“Oh, and Brian made buckeyes2 for dessert,” she added with a wink at Amanda and Jessica.

The two cousins looked at each other.

“Okay, how many of those do you think can we eat before we realise we no longer fit into our dresses?”

Jessica laughed. “I don’t know, but I like a challenge. Come on, let’s find out.”

Amanda popped one last canapé into her mouth and rose from the couch, taking Jessica’s arm as they went.

* * *

The dinner was excellent.

It was also, at times, endless.

At her best, Amanda cultivated patience like a well-kept garden. Being patient helped when co-running a business. It also helped smooth things out in her personal life. Her couple was a partnership of equals, well balanced, but she’d known from the start her temper was more even than Daniel’s. Each knew to take their turn at patience when the other needed some, though.

So it wasn’t like a few derogatory comments on her life choices and management style were enough to rile her up – not usually, and especially when scattered among casual kindnesses and funny anecdotes. Mrs LaRusso could dish worse than that on a good day. But the timing sucked.

Why couldn’t she seem to stop feeling so worried already?

“Joanne,” said Aunt Pat in a warning tone while they were all helping themselves to dessert, “leave the girl alone. That’s the second time she makes that face, and I don’t like that face.”

Amanda was tempted to point out that, as an almost twenty-nine-year-old with a thriving career, she was more of a woman than a girl, but at this point any kind of lifebuoy was welcome.

“I’m just saying,” said Joanne in a voice Amanda was annoyed seemed to sound much more reasonable than her own, “Daniel’s a good man and I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. It’s the shackling up I don’t get. Everything you own, everything you earn, you’ll have to share – you’ll completely lose your independence. And what if it doesn’t work out in the end?”

“Then you get to tell me ‘I told you so’,” Amanda retorted. The sarcasm came out sharper than she intended. She had to take a second to centre herself. “Look, Mom, can we drop the subject already? I just wanted a nice family dinner, not a re-enactment of the Salem trials.”

Her mother rolled her eyes, but softened.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just want what’s best for you.”

Oh, for…

“So do I, and I’ve been old enough to know what I want for some time now.” Amanda paused as the realisation hit her. “And right now, I think… I think I want to go home.”

There was a shocked silence.

“Oh, sweetie,” said Aunt Pat, startled, “you’re not staying for game night?”

“Sorry, Aunt Pat, not tonight. I’m turning in early. If it’s okay with you I’ll be back here at 9 to get dressed, just after the hairdresser appointment. You know, if the dress still fits.”

The quip fell slightly flat. Her mother looked crestfallen.

“Amanda, honey, I swear I won’t say a single –”

Amanda waved a hand, already feeling calmer for her decision to not stay after all.

“I’m not storming off in a huff, Mom, don’t worry. I just… need my own bed right now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

To her relief, she was answered by murmurs of assent and sympathetic noises.

One of the perks of being a bride-to-be was that many people expected you to be nervous and irrational, and were more willing than usual to let it go. In hindsight, maybe she should’ve banked on that much earlier instead of doubling down on trying at all costs to come across as chill, efficient and cheerful to everyone but Daniel.

She bid everyone good night, kissed her mother on the cheek (getting an apology hug she’d probably appreciate better tomorrow), and picked up her handbag.

“Sorry about your mom,” said Jessica softly when they were both at the door. “And mine. And Dad. Wow, this dinner was kinda terrible, huh.”

“We’ve had better, yeah,” Amanda conceded with a small smile. “I really would have enjoyed the sleepover, though. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry, we can always take a rain check. I’m sure Daniel won’t mind if I borrow my cousin for a girls’ night out one of these days.” She paused, and rubbed her hand along Amanda’s arm. “Sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jessie. Thanks. I’m just a little beat right now.”

Jessica peered at her for a few seconds without saying anything, then pulled her into a hug Amanda returned gladly.

When they parted her heart was lighter, though it still beat uncomfortably loud in her throat.

“All right, go get some rest. I’ll save you some buckeyes.”

“And that is why you’re my favourite cousin,” said Amanda with a laugh. Jessica grinned.

“Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow morning, then.”

“Bye, Jessie.”

The lull had done Amanda good. By the time she was behind the wheel of her car, fishing her cell phone from her handbag to send Daniel a text, the tension that had kept building during the dinner was waning a bit. She still felt on edge though, like electricity running just under her skin.

She did want to go home, change into her most comfy pyjamas, and snuggle her boyfriend as if tomorrow weren’t anything special. Maybe pop Ghostbusters into the VCR. They’d watched it so many times over the years the tape was starting to get creases in some places.

But the state she was in right now… Daniel was a perceptive guy. What if he picked up on her nervousness and jumped to the wrong conclusion? Jitters weren’t cold feet, but it was bad, right? Or at least a bad sign?

Amanda flipped her phone closed, buckled her seatbelt… and threw her head back in frustration, hitting the headrest. Ugh. If that little voice in her head could just shut up—

She didn’t send the text, figuring she could surprise her boyfriend – fiancé – and drove off.

She was coming up to Sherman Way when she spotted the bridge over the Browns Canyon Wash in the near distance. Before she knew it, she was turning west toward Canoga Park.

This is probably a bad idea, she thought, but she kept driving.

* * *

Amanda knocked once, then twice, softly enough for plausible deniability that someone was on the threshold at all. The door opened before she could decide whether to stay or leave discreetly while it was still polite.

Mr. Miyagi’s eyebrows went up.

“Amanda-san?”

“Good evening, Mr. Miyagi,” she said, and did a hasty bow after belatedly realising she’d forgotten. “Sorry to bother you at this hour, I just… I…”

He waited until she failed to finish her sentence, then asked with a frown, “Thought you go to family tonight. Everything all right?”

Amanda gave a shaky laugh. “Yes. Well, no. Well, yes, it’s just… This is so dumb. I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“Amanda-san.” His voice was gentler than usual, less gruff. “Want some tea?”

She breathed out, let her tense shoulders sag a little.

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Mr. Miyagi silently stepped aside to let her in.

Amanda went to sit on her knees in front of the low table, her hands in her lap. It felt strange, being there without Daniel. Mr. Miyagi had never made her feel unwelcome, even for a second, but the bond between those two was so obvious it was almost tangible, a living, breathing thing. They shared so many private jokes, and memories, and overall a kind of shorthand to each other that it might have made Amanda feel left out very easily.

She never did.

All it took was Daniel’s voice pulling her back from the sidelines, or Mr. Miyagi’s eyes twinkling as he shared a quiet smile with her, to remind Amanda that there was a place there with them that was just for her.

But she’d never been on her own there before, let alone at ten in the evening.

Mr. Miyagi soon came back with a tray loaded with a steaming teapot and two round cups. Amanda made sure to hold hers correctly, despite the impulse to wrap her fingers around it.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Mr. Miyagi gave a short nod and sat down, too.

The tea was a good quality matcha, foamy and sweet, the perfect temperature when Amanda dipped her lips into it.

Her evening hadn’t been quiet. It had been frustrating at times, sure, but also full of love and laughter, a familiar brand of chaos as various conversations collided across the dinner table. As she closed her eyes to savour the silence, the heat of the cup, and the flavour of the tea, some of the tension that had made her heartbeat loud and her chest tight seemed to drain away.

The rest of that tension remained in place, but its coils were slightly less taut now.

The little house felt as it always did, cosy and warm despite the early October night outside flirting with the lower fifties. The light-coloured wood walls helped. So did the paper lamps, the rug, and the decorations here and there, testament to a life rich enough to contain several.

A few items stuck out, though. There was a navy blue suit on a coat-hanger, the pants neatly folded over the lower bar. It was flanked with another hanger, over which a white shirt was draped. Hanging around the hook of the hanger was a silk tie with a blue and white flower motif.

The shirt’s wide lapels were a few years out of date, but the ensemble fit together surprisingly well. And retro was in style, anyway.

Amanda smiled.

“Mr. Miyagi, you’re going to look fabulous tomorrow.”

“Good suit. Do all work.” He took a sip from his cup and glanced at her. “Good thing about wedding: everyone look at bride, nobody else. So Miyagi can wear flashy suit, no problem.”

Amanda suppressed the urge to shift uncomfortably.

“Hopefully they’ll be also looking at Daniel. I mean, he’s the groom. And his suit is pretty neat, too.”

“Hai. And Daniel-san look at you whole time.”

This time Amanda’s smile had a touch of heat in her cheeks. He probably would stare a little, at that.

Quiet fell again, so unobtrusively Amanda started when Mr. Miyagi asked, “So. What wrong?”

Amanda drank from her matcha again and gently laid the cup on the table.

“Mr. Miyagi, can I… can I ask you a question?”

Mr. Miyagi gave her a nod.

“Have you ever been nervous, even though there was absolutely no logical reason to be nervous?”

“Miyagi nervous plenty of time,” he said, glancing at her curiously. “Sometimes true reason hidden, only see later. Why?”

“I’ve been feeling… a little weird about tomorrow, all evening. Well, make that all week, now I think of it. And now I’m – I think I’m a bit scared?”

The last word surprised her even as she said it. She had to take a second to think, a little taken aback.

“Which is completely absurd,” she continued with a wave of her hand as though it might hide how self-conscious the admission made her feel. “I mean… It’s a wedding, not some high noon duel. I love Daniel and he loves me – we’ve been living together for four years, for God’s sake. I’m not having second thoughts, I’m just…”

Like earlier, Mr. Miyagi waited patiently until it became clear Amanda would not finish her sentence.

“Nothing wrong with nerves before big day. Natural.”

“I know, but… Look, we’re in 1999. People can choose to not get married and it’s not a big deal, so getting married shouldn’t be such a big deal, either. I mean, my mom just plain told me she didn’t get why I wanted a wedding. She thinks it’s old-fashioned.”

“And father?” asked Mr. Miyagi, pouring a second helping of tea into both their cups.

Amanda downed some of her matcha, licked the foam from her lips, and lowered her eyes.

“I didn’t invite him. We don’t have a good relationship.”

And if that wasn’t a spectacular understatement.

At the beginning, when they were drafting the list of guests, she’d hesitated. Daniel had said, Take your time, honey. It’s your call. I know things are complicated between the two of you. Which was sweet of him, because all he’d had to work from were the bare bones: that Ted Steiner had walked out on his family during Amanda’s last year of high school, that he lived in Boston now, and that neither Amanda nor her mother talked to him more often than a few times a year. Daniel hadn’t pried, hadn’t prodded at sore spots and scar tissue; he had taken what she’d been willing to give and not demanded anything more. Amanda had been ridiculously thankful for it.

Mr. Miyagi didn’t pry, either, nor offer platitudes. He was just there, giving silent support, with neither judgement nor impatience.

Amanda breathed out.

“My dad had an affair when I was a teenager. My mom caught him cheating and… I guess it was the last straw for their marriage. They got a divorce pretty soon after that.”

Mr. Miyagi shook his head ruefully, but made no comment.

“So… maybe that’s part of why I’m scared, you know. I do remember them being happy together, and I think even when that stopped they put up a convincing front for my sake, but… I’m not starting out this marriage thing with the best of examples, you know?

“I mean… Daniel’s parents really loved each other. I don’t really get on with his mom enough to have hearts-to-hearts with her about it, but Daniel’s a big fan of scrapbooks and photo albums and I’ve seen their faces when they look at his dad’s pictures. Perhaps he could have ended up having an affair, or doing something that’d make his family disappointed for some reason, but they’ll never know. They’ll always have these memories of him being a good husband, and a good dad, and that’s all they get to keep, because he’s dead. Meanwhile, my dad lives in Massachusetts with a woman sixteen years younger and he never remembers my birthday. And he blows me off when I call him at ‘inconvenient times’.”

Amanda downed her tea in one go, suddenly wishing for something a lot stronger.

“I didn’t mean to unload on you,” she said quietly, not quite looking Mr. Miyagi in the eyes. “Sorry about that. I think the bottom line is just that I’m scared that even good things go south eventually – someone dies, someone cheats, you know, life happens – and I’ve been trying not to think about that for some time. And now it’s all I can think about. I’ll be fine,” she added, “I think. But the timing is really, really bad.”

“Hm. Timing is what is, can’t change that.” She raised her eyes. Mr. Miyagi drank the rest of his matcha, then climbed to his feet with a slight groan. “Wait here a moment.”

While Amanda worked on swallowing the lump in her throat and blink the sting out of her eyes, he made his way across the room to a cabinet, from which he took a bottle and two glasses.

Not just any bottle, too. This was the kind of sake that always made its way into his cabinet as the winter grew close. The one Daniel said he couldn’t let him drink alone. He’d told her the reason for the yearly bender a couple of years ago, when he and Amanda had first moved in together and he’d come back from Mr. Miyagi’s one November morning with a massive hangover. Since then, grief and outrage fought an endless battle in Amanda’s heart whenever she saw the little hand-coloured photograph in Mr. Miyagi’s bedroom, but she’d never found the right words or the right moment to talk to him about it.

“Oh, Mr. Miyagi, you don’t have to –”

“At-at-at-at. Tea good, but for this? Strong stuff better. Drink.”

He poured two generous drinks and toasted Amanda’s tumbler. The glass went clink.

The wine was light, slightly sweet, with a kick at the end. It seemed to warm her throat and chest from the inside, much as the tea had. She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the taste. And the kick. She had needed that kick.

When she opened her eyes again Mr. Miyagi was looking straight at her.

“How ridiculous do you think it is,” she asked in a low voice, “being scared of your own wedding?”

He shook his head.

“Amanda-san, in life, always easier to hide head in sand. Admit being scared, though – that pretty brave. You face fear.”

She took a sip from her glass to hide the wry turn of her mouth. “Brave is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

“What feeling right now, then?”

“Stupid, mostly. And, well. Still nervous,” she added.

“Ah, not stupid. Just young.”

“Not that young.”

“And not that stupid either.” A small laugh escaped Amanda. Mr. Miyagi’s expression softened. “Miyagi… very nervous before wedding. Very young then, and very stupid.”

Amanda held her breath. He had never mentioned his wife to her before.

“Why were you nervous?”

“Daniel-san tell you about first trip to Okinawa?”

Amanda nodded. “He said you’d left your first love there. She was engaged to marry your best friend, and you left so you wouldn’t have to fight him to the death. And win,” she added in a softer voice.

Another time, another place, another world. Arranged marriages and duels of honour – it all sounded like a story, not like something regular people her parents’ or grandparents’ age could have gone through. And maybe at first glance the little old man seated next to her in a khaki button-down did not look like the stuff of stories. But as she had come to know him better, she’d come to know better.

Mr. Miyagi nodded with a smile.

“Hai. Yukie. Very kind, very smart. Very beautiful. Miyagi’s heart… broken, little pieces. Think never love again.

“I come to Hawaii in shame, start working small jobs. Fix carts, fix roads, cut cane in fields. Then… meet Sakiko.”

He stopped for a gulp of sake, then continued in a faraway voice, “And she smart, and kind, and beautiful too. Her laugh was like… sun, here.” He patted his chest. “Each time, little piece of heart come back. One day I ask, Will you marry me? And she not laugh. Say yes.”

Another gulp.

“Luckiest guy on Earth.”

Amanda drank, too, hoping it would make her throat less tight. It didn’t.

“And you were still nervous?”

“Of course. Sakiko was sunshine, I was bum with broken heart! Didn’t believe second chance at love. Too rare. Like, blow it with Yukie in Okinawa then, blow it with Sakiko in Hawaii now, you know?”

Despite everything Amanda had to bite on an unexpected smile. That last bit was definitely a LaRusso contribution to Mr. Miyagi’s English.

“So, what did you do?”

“Marry Sakiko anyway. Say to myself, Must not lose to fear. Love… too precious to be touched by something like fear.”

If Amanda had been seated on a chair, this would have been a perfect time to cross her arms on the table and lay her head on them, if only as a cover for the emotions she could feel rising in her throat. But the table was too low for that. Instead, she took another gulp of sake and leaned forward on her elbows, her whole body slumping even as her mouth wobbled into a smile at the last sentence.

A smile that fell when Mr. Miyagi poured himself another glass and muttered, “This story no happy ending, either.”

He stole a glance through the open door of his bedroom, where he kept Sakiko’s picture and the little box that contained some of his most painful memories. Amanda swallowed, her eyes burning.

“I know,” she murmured. “Daniel told me what happened then. Mr. Miyagi, I am so sorry, that—”

“Eh, long time ago. Not worry.” But his voice was rough, his eyes shining wetly in the dim light of the lanterns. He reached for his glass, downed some of the wine; when he set his glass down Amanda laid a hand on his arm, gently, at a loss for how to convey everything she wanted to.

Somewhat to her surprise, he didn’t pull his arm back.

“Was boy, you know. Little American Miyagi boy, born California. Sakiko wanted American name, like George, Harry. I wanted Kanryō, like father. Sakiko say, Why not both? Many Americans more than one name. Last letter say, Little Kanryō Harry strong, kick hard.”

Mr. Miyagi picked up his glass with his free hand and emptied it in one go. A breath shuddered out of him.

“Miyagi pretty damn lost for a while after. No pick up broken pieces for many years. Too much work.”

Amanda was reluctant to remove her hand, still clasping his arm. She clenched her lower jaw to keep it from trembling and wiped her eyes with the thumb of her left hand.

Mr. Miyagi made for the bottle again, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, his hand flopped on Amanda’s, patted it once or twice, then squeezed.

Then he let go and leaned back, blinking at the ceiling.

“Life, you know. Sometimes work out, sometimes, ah… sometimes not.”

“That’s one way to put it,” said Amanda, her voice thick and echoing around strangely in her head. Mr. Miyagi looked back down again and peered at her.

“Not mean give up on life. Never know what you find next. Like chocolate box.”

Something that might have been a laugh in different circumstances snorted its way through Amanda’s nose. Thank goodness she hadn’t been drinking. Look at the dignified bride, snickered a voice in her head that sounded a lot like her own.

“Did you just quote Forrest Gump!?”

“I watch TV,” Mr. Miyagi retorted with what she could recognise as a rather poor attempt at his usual stone-face sarcasm. Not that she’d dream of calling him out on it. “Good for catchy saying. Sound wise later, when make this face and go hmm. Listen to wise old Miyagi.”

Amanda, flabbergasted, dealing with severe mood whiplash, and maybe just a little buzzed after Aunt Pat’s dinner and half a glass of sake, stared at him open-mouthed for a while until delight started to creep into her face, like a blush. Mr. Miyagi smiled.

“Daniel-san make same face first time figure out karate training. Mouth open, big eyes, ooh.”

“I know that face,” Amanda laughed. “I’ve seen that face. His eyes go…” She made a gesture with all five fingers extended, palm out, and smiled fondly. “He loves to make everyone think he’s got it all figured out. You know, control, balance, and everything. But then something will blow his mind and wham – surprise face.”

“Hai. Good moment. Great fun, too.” Mr. Miyagi picked up his sake again, both his moustache and his glass almost hiding his smile until he realised there was no alcohol left in it. “Miyagi father teach karate since small boy. This high.” He raised his hand at a height Amanda, through her patchy experience with kids, guessed must mean ‘very young child’. “Do kata, blocks, balance exercises. Build good muscle, good reflex, good head. Years to learn. But Daniel-san, only two month training before tournament. Had to trick mind for body build muscle and reflex quickly.”

“And did he have a good head?” asked Amanda, resting her right elbow on the table and her cheek into her palm, smiling at the mental picture.

That smile widened at Mr. Miyagi’s expression.

“Eh… Depend. Hard head, yes. Big mouth. Bit of a handful. Tended to rush into things, not look right, not look left – only forward. Sometimes not even then!” He raised his eyebrows in mock outrage. “And stubborn, like mule. If really no want listen, no listen at all, even Miyagi, even mother!”

He shook his head.

“Good head, yes, sometimes – but good heart, always. Big heart. Bigger than him.”

Amanda had to smile again at that. She and Daniel were the same height; she stood taller than him when she wore high heels, but she’d always been tall for a woman. 5’9 was the average height for a man. He did seem to have twice the average amount of heart, though, which had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

“You know,” said Mr. Miyagi as he screwed the sake bottle’s cap back on, “Daniel-san tell me later he was angry when he and mother move here, to California. I understand. Left family, friends. Memories. Tomb father buried. And for place that no want them, no understand them. Funny face, funny accent. Get laugh at, beat up. Don’t know rules here, he say.

“Well, Miyagi know thing or two about Don’t know rules here. He say angry boy now. I see lonely boy then. Polite to old Okinawa fixer guy. Gentle with bonsai. Come down, say, Hey, Mr. Miyagi, can hang out with you tonight? I know mother work late, I know boys with bad attitude in school. I say, Sure, here bonsai clipper. Here story about Okinawa. And then, later, karate training. But even after tournament, still show up. Do kata, help fix house, talk. Talk a lot,” Mr Miyagi added in that special tone of his, dry but for the twinkle in his eyes, “but, er… listen, too. Listen good, for young man who talk so much.”

Amanda smiled into her palm, both at Mr. Miyagi’s words and the guarded but transparent affection in his voice.

“He is good at that,” she murmured, “when he wants to be.”

“Hai. Sometimes forget, but never for long. Love bring him back, always.” He paused. “Even when being bonehead.”

The word made Amanda chuckle silently.

“He really means a lot to you, huh.” Like you mean the world to him, she didn’t say. But then again she was fairly sure she didn’t need to.

Mr. Miyagi pursed his lips in thought. Then gave a short nod.

“Boy lonely when come here. Miyagi… lonely for long time then. Busy life, busy hands, yes. But, er, heart need busy too. Need love to give, to get. Like bonsai; no love, then no water, no help shape and grow. Root go weak. No good.”

His eyes fell on a little juniper on a cabinet – one of the many bonsais scattered here and there, in the house and the garden – and his moustache twitched.

“Then one day Miyagi realise heart get pretty busy, too. Turn out lonely boy with big mouth and hard head, plenty of love to give. When I get letter from Yukie that father dying, he say, I’m coming with you, Mr. Miyagi. Be there for you. And when father die…” He cleared his throat. “When father die, no more wise Mr. Miyagi for a while. No more funny jokes, no more smart sensei. Just little old man alone, full of tears and regret.

“Daniel-san lose father, too. Shared grief with me then, regret, guilt. Kind words, gentle silence. Help pick up broken pieces.”

For some reason this reminded Amanda of her mom taking up yoga after Dad left, like her, so they’d share an activity that was all theirs and help each other through it. Or Jessica spending six months in California after Amanda moved in, just so she wouldn’t be alone in a strange place.

She drank from her sake and smiled into her glass, trying to catch Mr. Miyagi’s eyes.

“That’s what a good family does,” she said softly as she set the tumbler down. “Be there in the good times and the bad.”

“Miyagi not very good family. No see father for forty years.”

“No, but… family doesn’t have to be blood, right? You were there for Daniel and he was there for you. That’s the important thing.”

Mr. Miyagi shot her a side glance.

“True.” His gaze softened. “Once I lose baby boy. Later, I get young man. Not same, but not less.”

And before Amanda could figure out whether she wanted to smile or cry – and if she could get away with blaming it on the sake – he said in a voice that was a lot more like his usual matter-of-fact tone:

“You say Life happen – you right. I say Sometimes work out, sometimes not – Miyagi also right. But life is people, too. And…”

He stopped, as though searching for words.

“Look, important thing about Daniel-san: hot head, kind heart. Always fight for what believe, here.” He put his hand over his heart. “And what Daniel-san believe most is family, friends. Trust. Support in hard times. No walk away from difficult situation – go right toward trouble and say, I make this right. And I think you same, Amanda-san.”

“Mr. Miyagi,” said Amanda in a small voice, putting her chin in both her hands and leaning with her elbows on the table, “if you’re trying to promise me we’ll never have problems, I’m not gonna believe you.”

“No. You will have problems – plenty good couple have problems. But you and Daniel-san, love each other very much. Work through problems. Make good team.” He looked her in the eyes again. “Worth it.”

“I know,” murmured Amanda. “Believe me, I know.”

Fact was, she did know, and she’d known for a long time, way before anxiety had started to whisper inside her brain. She did have doubts, and fears, and insecurities – but never about that.

Maybe sometimes all you needed was someone to lay out the inside of your head for you and show you what was in it. In the light of tea, sake, and good insights, everything became just that little bit clearer.

Mr. Miyagi was smiling.

“So. You better?”

Amanda gave the question some consideration.

“Yes,” she said eventually with a solemn nod, “I’m better.”

“There you go. Power of matcha and nihonshu3. Work every time.”

“Power of a good host, too,” she pointed out, “and a good friend. Thank you, Mr. Miyagi.”

“Ah, no thank me. Want guest room? Is late. And you getting married tomorrow.”

She gave a laugh. “There is that, yeah. But I think I’ll go home. Thanks for the offer, though. And the perspective.”

Mr. Miyagi nodded and started getting to his feet, slower than before. The two glasses of sake and the late hour were taking their toll, like it did on Amanda.

“Thank you for company. Always welcome here. And, er, Amanda-san?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated again, although this time it didn’t look like he was searching for the right English words, but rather bracing himself.

“Next month, fifty-five years since… since telegram. I know Daniel-san come – not like it when Miyagi alone that night.” He cleared his throat. “If you… if you want to come, too… have tea, perhaps drink some sake in memory, then… Would be good. To have you.”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat.

“I would like that,” she said softly, but with feeling. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

Silence fell between them, soft and comfortable, a bridge rather than a divide.

When the moment broke, Amanda retrieved her handbag and her coat to leave; but as she went to open the door she let her hand fall and turned back to him.

“Mr. Miyagi?”

“Hm?”

She bit her lip, tasting the remnant of the lipstick she’d put on before leaving her and Daniel’s apartment. It felt like ages ago now.

“I, uh… I’d planned to walk down the aisle alone. You know, there’s a tradition that the father of the bride gives her away, but… well, you know. He’s not… He won’t be there. So.” Heat was rushing in her cheeks and ears which would have been convenient to blame on the sake, but a complete lie. “Would you… come with me? Give me away?”

Mr. Miyagi didn’t answer straight away, and she faltered a little.

“I know you’re already Daniel’s best man, so it’d be a bit irregular, but—”

Mr. Miyagi made a dismissive hand gesture.

“This first American wedding Miyagi go to, not suppose to know what regular or irregular. Good excuse if someone say Oh, can’t do that. But… Important for you?”

“Yes,” Amanda said, the word rushing out of her along with a breath. “Yes, it’d be… it’s important.”

“Then Miyagi honoured to give you away, Amanda-san.”

He bowed, very formal and deliberate. She bowed back in the same manner, careful to keep her eyes on his, smiling warmly.

Her heart finally at peace.

* * *

The apartment was dark and silent when she turned the key in the lock and walked in as noiselessly as she could. She hadn’t let Daniel know she was coming home. He must have gone to bed by now.

The kitchen still smelled faintly of mac and cheese when she passed by the open door.

Daniel’s go-to comfort food.

Amanda smiled fondly. Perhaps she hadn’t been the only one in need of some reassurance tonight.

The feeling was confirmed when she stopped in the bathroom to change into her night clothes. The laundry hamper had gained a couple of additions in a few hours, ie. sweatpants and a t-shirt, though the most telling was Daniel’s headband, carefully set aside to be washed by hand later. His bath towel was damp. He’d definitely been practising something more intense than slow katas and breathing exercises. Sometimes they joked that if they managed to get a bigger place – an actual house, for instance – they might include a dojo just so he wouldn’t have to clear space in the living room to work on his karate.

The shapeless lump under the covers didn’t move when she tiptoed into the bedroom, but as she slipped into bed she heard a mumbled, “Hey, honey. Didja ditch your game night for me?”

“Kinda,” Amanda whispered back, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. “Turns out I want to spend my last night as a bachelorette with you.”

“Aw. I’m flattered. And hey, who could blame ya.”

Sleepy and slurred as his voice was, the grin in it was unmistakeable. The accent, too. The more tired, angry or emotional he was, the stronger the Jersey came out.

Amanda snorted, and made herself comfortable. It was easy. The texture of the pillowcase, the scent of fabric softener on the sheets, the solid warmth of Daniel as she curled up against him and buried her nose in his hair – it was all familiar, reassuring. None of that would change tomorrow, or next week, or next year. And the changes that would come – their joint career plans, getting a house, having kids one day – they would face or embrace together.

Daniel shifted until he had his arms around her, too.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Amanda looked at him in the dim light filtering through the blackout curtains, closed eyes barely visible through the tousled dark hair flopping across his forehead.

“Yeah.” Quiet, heartfelt. Nothing stirred in her chest except the usual affection. “You?”

“Mhm-hm. Quiet night. Glad you’re here.”

Not a word about working out through possible anxieties. Daniel hated to make people worry. It was both an endearing quality and a frustrating flaw of his.

One breath, two, three, each longer than the last before his voice came again, barely audible.

“Still on for tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” she whispered, and he let out a silent laugh. With possibly some relief in it. Amanda was too sleepy to tell for sure.

They fell asleep intertwined, arms and legs in a tangle, like any other night.

___________

1In 1999. (of course I checked ^^’) I don’t know about now, though.

2A candy made of peanut butter fudge partially dipped in chocolate originating from Ohio.

3Aka sake.

___________

💜

Please drop a comment if you like! I’m Belphegor on AO3 and the fic is at archiveofourown.org/works/42425775, except I can’t make the link clickable because then the post probably won’t show up in the tag. (dammit, Tumblr.) I’ll put a clickable link in the replies.

#cobra kai #karate kid #fanfiction #my stuff #I have a lot of feelings about this okay

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writingxfootballl · 2 years

Text

i’ll be your biggest fan (and you’ll be mine) (jessie fleming x ucla!reader)

soccer players weren’t exactly your type, but maybe you could make an exception for her.

word count: 3202 ish

rated: Y for yum and P for possibility for a part two?

title- best friend by rex orange county

a/n: wow this turned out a lot longer than i originally thought.

——

of course you knew who jessie fleming was.

who didn’t know who jessie fleming was?

the pride of ucla women’s soccer, an olympic medalist at the sweet age of 18, and captain of the bruins.

you knew who she was.

but you didn’t care.

for all you knew, athletes were cocky, annoying, stupid, and for the most part, fuck boys.

and you had no time for them.

you were in your senior year at ucla, finishing up your final few classes, and if everything went according to plan you’d be studying at oxford university next year, pursuing a PhD in mechanical engineering.

you were also in the running for valedictorian of the class of 2019.

so safe to say, you had no time to waste.

you took no pleasure in watching sports games of any kind, and all extra time went into reading up on other areas of interest, such as philosophy and literature.

and quite frankly, you found sports games, especially football, a pure waste of time.

the prospect and idea always baffled you.

why would anyone want to watch sweaty idiots running around for 90 minutes at a time?

not you that’s who.

and so you went on with your year, without a care in the world.

well besides school and your grades of course.

and life went on.

you were having a bad day.

like a really really really bad day.

you had stayed up late studying, and consequently forgotten to set an alarm.

granted it was still eight and technically you still had an hour until class, but you were panicking because that meant you had to throw your normal schedule and routine out of whack.

so you were walk sprinting.

in other words, walking pretty fast through the hallways.

you were holding your heavy textbooks with one hand, and fighting your backpack strap with the other.

the hallways were pretty empty as it was relatively early, so you didn’t look up while you were going about.

if you weren’t so preoccupied with your bag strap you probably would’ve realized it was a bad idea.

but you didn’t realize that until too late, when you ran right into the back of someone.

your textbooks fell to the ground with a loud thud, and the papers in your folder went flying absolutely everywhere.

this day was just getting worse and worse.

you muttered a “fuck” before dropping down and trying to collect your things.

and that’s when the person you ran into looked down and walked across the hall to collect some of your papers that had flown there.

a soft and shy voice broke through your muttered string of curses.

“hey here’s some of your papers, i’m really sorry about that i didn’t mean to knock anything over..”

she trailed off.

you look up and the breath gets knocked out of you.

she was… exactly your type.

her eyes were illuminated by the window behind you, rendering them a golden honey color that made your heart melt a little bit.

the light also emphasized her flyaways, the little pieces of hair sticking up every which way from her ponytail.

a high blush had already found it’s way onto your cheeks, and it was mirrored on the girl’s cheeks in front of you.

you shook your head and cleared your throat:

“um don’t worry it’s fine it was my fault anyways.”

that’s when you notice her outstretched hand holding some of your engineering notes and you add:

“thanks by the way, you really didn’t have to…”

your fingers brush a little bit when you take them from her, and you desperately try to ignore the burning sensation that lingers there.

after helping you pack up your things, the girl in front of you holds out her hand and introduces herself.

“hey i’m jessie.”

you take her hand shyly, ignoring the sparks flying up your arm, and grin.

“and i’m y/n.”

the girl let out a bright smile that mirrored yours, and said:

“i’ve gotta head to class now, but i’ll see you around sometime?”

you nod softly and give her a wave before the girl turns and walks off.

you stare a little longingly at her, before shaking your head and clearing your throat.

class. right.

at the time you didn’t know that who you ran into was jessie fleming.

in your defense, you hadn’t expected to see someone like her.

she was blushy, a little shy, and all in all she just really didn’t fit the soccer and athlete stereotype you had created within your head.

but lucky for you, you saw her again a week later.

you were in the library, engineering notes strewn about on the table as you blasted classical music through one of your earbuds, the other dangling behind your ear.

on the opposite side of the library, jessie had just walked in, scanning the tables for an empty seat.

spotting that the one across from a girl was open, she made her way there.

you were engrossed in what you were doing, trying to figure out why your code wasn’t running, that you didn’t notice the girl who had occupied your thoughts was making her way towards you.

you slam your keyboard in frustration, eliciting glares from the people near you, stravinsky’s danse infernal blasting in your ear.

not exactly the calmest of pieces.

you pull out your earbuds and groan, before you bury your face in your hands.

it’s then that a touch on the shoulder nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

you look up and a blush immediately forms on your cheeks.

jessie’s breath hitched in surprised when you did.

“oh- hey y/n, i um seat i-“

she stumbled a little bit over her words.

“-what i meant to say was, is this uh seat taken?”

she accompanied the end of her question with a point to the seat across from you.

you shake your head softly, a no.

she nodded quickly, but still hesitated before sitting in front of you.

there was no way you could focus on your work now.

you could feel your cheeks burning as you watched the girl in front of you from the corner of your eye.

she was wearing a bruins jersey, with a 21 plastered on the front.

you rolled your eyes internally. a soccer fan. great.

an idea hits you suddenly, and you type a new string of code, certain that it’d work.

it doesn’t.

you groan, and are on the verge of giving up when a soft voice takes you out of your thoughts.

“hey are you okay?”

you look up to see the concerned expression of the girl across from you.

you blush a little at the sight.

“y-yeah it’s just this stupid project for engineering.”

jessie’s lips purse for a moment.

“maybe i could take a look at it? i mean if you don’t mind- i’m an engineering major too.”

you nod graciously at the girl and slide your computer towards her.

she takes it and with a furrowed brow, begins reading through the pages of code you’ve written.

you take this as a chance to admire her.

you admire the freckles that spill across her nose and cheeks.

you admire the loose bits of hair that are too short to stay down.

and you can’t help but admire the cute, focused expression she has plastered on her face.

your heart was beating wildly.

the two of you stay like that until jessie smiles and you quirk an eyebrow in confusion.

“what is it? is my code that awful?”

“no no! your code is perfect. you just missed a semicolon in line 26 is all.”

your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“oh.”

jessie only laughs and slides your computer back towards you.

sure enough, everything was perfect and running smoothly.

you smiled thankfully.

“thank you so much for doing that.”

jessie only shakes her head.

“oh it was nothing, don’t worry about it!”

the two of you bashfully exchanged smiles until you cleared your throat.

“um i should- get back to work.”

the color rises on jessie’s cheeks.

“right. so should i.”

it became a habit.

the two of you spent your afternoons across from each other in the library.

when you weren’t helping each other with work, you were sneaking glances at each other, your faces as red as can be the whole time.

you were always there first, jessie (unbeknownst to you having practice right before).

every time it was the same thing.

you were focused, headphones in, plugging away at the assignments in front of you.

an hour later, almost right on the dot, you’d feel a light tap on your shoulder, and you’d turn to see the girl of your dreams standing before you.

every time you were left breathless.

every time without fail, jessie would ask:

“hey is this seat taken?”

and every time you’d smile and shake your head no, inviting her to take the seat across from you, and she would.

and sooner than later, you started looking forward to it.

to her.

internally, you cursed yourself for falling for someone? liking?

it was a little soon to call it anything.

you were leaving the states in a few months right after graduation for oxford, where you’d be getting a head start on the research opportunity you’d been granted as a rhodes scholar.

in other words, you shouldn’t be falling for someone who you’d inevitably leave in just a few months.

well.

that was if, and very much if, this turned into anything.

which, much to your brain’s dismay, your heart hoped it would.

you couldn’t ignore the tension between the two of you, and you only hoped that jessie felt the same way.

as smart as you were, it somehow still didn’t click that the jessie you maybe (just maybe) had a crush on was jessie fleming.

it was only when the dean of your class called you into his office for a meeting that you made the connection.

“miss y/ln, please, have a seat.”

you do so accordingly.

“so as you may know, it is customary for valedictorians to give a farewell address during graduation, one that is written by the valedictorian themselves.”

the dean pauses, and upon seeing you nod, continues.

“this year, you will still be able to do that, but the board of the university of california would like you to also include a section mentioning the accomplished athletes in this year’s graduating classes as well.”

it took so much effort for you to not roll your eyes at the man.

“in fact, i’d like you to meet one of them today.”

he turns and beckons for his secretary to send the student in.

“jessie fleming is one of our university’s greatest prides, and i hope that you will find her agreeable, as you will work alongside her in the writing of that section of the speech.”

you hear the soft padding of footsteps appear just as he finishes, the whole time expecting a cocky and arrogant soccer player to be standing there.

so when the footsteps come to a stop and you turn to see the messy haired canadian girl there instead, the surprise showed on your face.

jessie’s face mirrored yours.

the dean didn’t notice any of this, and continued.

“miss y/ln, meet jessie fleming, olympic medalist, and miss fleming, meet y/n, your valedictorian.”

right after the dean dismissed you both, you walked out so quickly that jessie had to run to catch up to you.

“hey, y/n!”

your steps slowed a little bit as she ran up next to you.

the girl’s excitement caught you a little bit off guard.

“i didn’t know you were the valedictorian! that’s amazing! congratulations!”

damn.

even the slightest compliment from her brought a blush to your cheeks.

still, you muttered:

“thanks.”

jessie’s smile faltered a little at your brisk reply.

“what is it?”

you hesitated before replying.

“i just didn’t know you played soccer is all.”

jessie’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

“is there a problem with that?”

you reply defensively.

“no, why would there be?”

“i don’t know it just seems like there is-“

you snap.

“i said there’s nothing. just drop it.”

jessie’s expression breaks a little, along with your heart.

her short response acts as a testament to her feelings:

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to apologize but before you can, jessie bids you goodbye.

“well i’ve got to go back to practice now. uh i’ll see you around.”

you just nod curtly as the canadian girl walks away.

as you watch her leave, you curse yourself internally for your behavior.

you open your mouth to call after her but stop when nothing comes out.

so much for turning into anything.

you in fact, did not see jessie around after that.

she had stopped coming to the library after practice, and you tried to hide your hurt, but you clearly didn’t do it well, as it began affecting your school work.

not that it mattered since you only had a month left until graduation.

a few of your professors had pulled you aside to ask you about it, but you just brushed it off as a sudden case of senioritis each time.

after all, you couldn’t exactly tell them that without the girl sitting across from you, the library suddenly felt far too empty and too quiet.

you just couldn’t focus.

it began bothering you so much that you began hatching a plan to run into her.

you walked the long way to your classes, but it seemed as though the midfielder knew, and was one step ahead of you.

no matter how hard you tried, you just never seemed to cross paths.

it got so bad that you ended up standing outside one of her classrooms.

there was no way for her to avoid you then.

you sat in a chair outside the environmental engineering wing reading, looking up when jessie’s voice breaks your focus.

“what are you doing here?”

your face flushes red as you scramble to pack up your things.

“i- uh- i’m- waiting? for uh- you?”

your answer came out as more of a question than a statement.

jessie’s eyebrows raise in amusement before she resumes her neutral expression.

“may i ask why?”

“uh-“

you open your mouth to tell her the truth, that she was the reason you were here, and that you liked her and wanted to ask her out and had made the stupid choice of snapping at her instead of getting to know her more and not judge her off of first impressions-

but that wasn’t what came out.

“um i mean we still have to work on the speech.”

you want to take that back as soon as you said it.

jessie’s face falls slightly in disappointment, but she nods.

“tuesday at the usual time?”

you swallow in self disappointment and nod too.

“okay.”

when tuesday rolled around, you felt like you were going to throw up.

you really owed jessie an apology, but you didn’t know how best to tell that to her.

but you were going to try.

you wore your best turtleneck and jeans, despite the fact that it was LA county and 90 degrees out, and headed to the library.

on your way there, you happened to pass by the soccer field, and by sheer luck, saw the familiar back of number 21.

and so on a whim, you decide to walk towards the field instead of the library.

jessie was conducting shooting drills and was so preoccupied with correcting form that she didn’t see you walking towards the stands.

you head up towards the bleachers and sit down, your eyes never leaving the messy haired girl.

as you sit there, you take the time to reevaluate your past biases.

firstly, maybe not all athletes were bad.

at least jessie wasn’t.

and secondly, you really wanted to ask her out.

this whole time, jessie still doesn’t notice you.

in fact, she doesn’t notice you for the entirety of the practice.

it’s only when practice ends that one of her younger team members points you out.

“who’s girlfriend is that?”

jessie’s eyes follow the pointed finger, heart skipping a beat when her eyes meet yours.

you give her a little wave and she reciprocates, walking towards you in confusion.

“what are you doing here?”

“waiting for you.”

jessie’s eyebrows quirk.

“in the heat? you could’ve waited for me in the library.”

you swallow.

“well i wanted to um, walk with you.”

“i-“

you cut her off.

“i’m sorry.”

jessie’s face hides her expression well.

“it’s okay.”

“no, i’m really sorry-“

you take a deep breath.

and then it all comes spilling out.

“i don’t think that i was fair to you. i looped you into the athlete stereotype i had created in my head, which now thinking about it is completely opposite to your personality, and because of that, i’ve basically blown all my chances with you. i treated you really unfairly, and i didn’t mean to snap at you the other day, i just felt dumb for liking you yet never making the connection and it was just really unfair so no, it’s not okay.”

your rant slowly comes to a halt, and you look up to see jessie’s eyebrows raised in an amused expression.

your eyebrows, on the other hand, furrow in confusion.

“what?”

jessie smiles.

“say that last part again?”

“that i felt bad for treating you unfairly?”

jessie shakes her head.

“no the part before that.”

you pause to think.

“uh i felt dumb for.. liking…you..”

your eyes go wide after realizing what you just admitted and your first instinct is to take it back.

“i-“

jessie cuts you off before you can.

“you know it’s hot, how about we go talk about this over lunch?”

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“what?”

jessie chuckles a lightly.

“i’m asking you on a date.”

and then your brain stops working.

“a date? with me? like as in when-“

jessie cuts you off with a full laugh and teases:

“you’re valedictorian i thought you were supposed to be smart.”

your face turns a bright red.

“i-”

“yes a date. you know the thing that two people who really like each other do-“

“okay i know what a date is!”

“do you need me to look it up on urban dictionary for you?”

you gasp in outrage.

“i do not!”

jessie rolls her eyes and smiles widely.

“sure, whatever you say! i’m going to go grab my stuff now, i’ll meet you at the gate?”

you nod.

when jessie turns and begins to walk away, you suddenly yell after her:

“and for your information, urban dictionary is not a reliable source of information!”

#lol sorry if this is a little long #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea wfc imagine #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt #canwnt imagine #canwnt x reader

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stealforreal · 3 years

Text

Future kids - Bakugou Katsuki I

Bakugou meets his son from the future. Just some fluff, with a jealous Bakugou.

Bakugou Katsuki x F! reader

Warnings: none

Bakugou was stomping his way back to the dorms, cursing that stupid nerd Deku in his mind. Kicking some rocks lying in his way, he was radiating murder. Naturally his classmates left him alone to cool off for a minute, even the Baku squad left him alone. They had chosen not to interfere, because they would like to live to see another, thank you very much.

The stupid nerd had been too close to y/n at lunch today, and Bakugou had spent the entire time glaring at the curly green haired boy. What really made him snap was when she hugged him, and the stupid brocoli went as red as a tomato. She was giggling loudly and seemed really happy at whatever Midoriya had said, and the fiery ash blond couldn't control his jealousy so he stormed off. After class was over Bakugou was the first out the door, not even stopping to insult Denki when he made a bad joke.

The rest of his classmates were confused, sure they all knew Bakugou to be a hothead. But still he seemed angrier than usual, only the Baku squad had small nervous but knowing smiles on their face. They knew of the explosive boy's crush on y/n, it wasn't totally obvious and they really wouldn't have known had Kirishima not pointed out the subtle things. Like how he never once called her an extra, he still called her idiot, dumbass and such. That was probably Bakugou's version of a compliment, which was probably the reason they took so long to figure out his crush.

So here he was stomping his way back to the dorms, cursing Deku for being close with y/n, Himself for getting jealous, y/n for being too friendly and everything he could curse in general. He stopped dead in his tracks when he felt a little tug on his uniform pant leg, glaring down at the thing that stopped him. Only to be confused when that thing turned out to be a little boy, around the age of 4-5 by the looks of it. Bakugou's brows furrowed in confusion, how did a little boy end up here. UA is one of the most secure places in Japan, courtesy of the League of Villains and other past incidents.

What caught Bakugou's attention though, was the fact that this little boy was bawling his eyes out and trembling with his sobs. Bakugou didn't know what was happening, he felt incredibly protective of the young boy but didn't know why. He seemed kind of familiar, like Bakugou had seen parts of him somewhere else before. The little boy had big e/c doe eyes, filled to the brim with tears as he stared at the ground. His hair was unruly and a familiar shade of ash blond, he reminded Bakugou of himself a bit when he was young except the crybaby attitude of course. It was weird for Bakugou to feel this protective of anything, and he didn't like it one bit

" Oi brat, where are you parents?" The teenager asked the little boy, crouching down to his level, making the little lad finally pay attention to the stranger he had grabbed. The little boy gasped and flung himself at Bakugou, clutching on tightly to the stunned teenager's shirt. A new wave of tears hit the little blonde, being relieved at the familiar sight of his fathers face though much younger. " D-daddy, I-I was so scared" the little boy whimpered, burying his tear stained face in his fathers shoulder. Bakugou was speechless, he sure as hell was not this kid's father even if it explained the feeling of familiarity. No Bakugou shook his head at the ridiculous thought, this kid was obviously terrified and contrary to popular belief Bakugou would not abandon a lost child " Oi brat, I'm taking you with me back to the dorms. Afterwards we'll find your parents' ' he huffed, Bakugou was going to kill this kid's parents once they were found.

The younger boy began calming down in the older boy's arms, the tears had stopped and he was only softly hiccupping now. "B-but daddy I did find you, I wanna go see mommy" the young boy huffed out, defiantly crossing his arms over his little chest. " Oh yeah, prove it brat" Bakugou smirked thinking he had cornered the little boy in his lie, but much to his astonishment the little boy let out a small explosion in the palm of his hand. Though much brighter than his own, there was no mistaking his explosion quirk. Bakugou hated to admit that so far the brat seemed to be telling the truth, and he hated even more how his feeling of protectiveness grew at the revelation that this kid in fact was most likely his son from the future. It wasn't rocket science, right now Bakugou was 16 and 100% not a father. Yet here is a little boy that is the spitting image of him as a kid except the eyes, and in this world where quirks exist perhaps time travelling was possible.

Bakugou's little chat with his son had taken longer than he thought, because as soon as he entered the dorm common room every one in the room snapped their head towards the two ash blondes. The first to break the pin drop silence was Kirishima " Eh who is the kid, Bakubro" he asked. While Mina asked if he had kidnapped the kid, earning a glare from the explosive blonde. " Daddy, why does Aunt Mina and Uncle Kiri not recognize me? " a little voice asked, making a lot of jaws drop and eyes widened. 1....2......3...... " WHA!!!" The lot of them shouted, questions coming left and right, wanting an explanation as to why this little boy who looked suspiciously like Bakugou called him dad.

What they all failed to notice was the little boy was recoiling from the loud noise, pressing himself closer and closer to his father. Bakugou noticed this, and thanks to his newfound protectiveness he hugged him closer and glared at them effectively shutting them up. Mostly they were just silenced because the sight of Bakugou hugging and being protective of his supposed son baffled them. I mean we are talking about Mr.Hothead angry Pomeranian, the most blatant rude student in class 1-A if not in the entirety of UA. " Shut it ya damn morons, can't you see you're frightening him" Bakugou sneered at his classmates, not loudly but it was still malicious enough to make a shiver run up their spines.

Midoriya, who had known Kacchan the longest, was intrigued by this side of Kacchan and unconsciously moved closer to the two ash blondes. Seeing the familiar shade of green hair approach them Bakugou sneered, while his son became ecstatic. " Uncle Izu '' The child yelled excitedly, stretching his arm towards the blushing brocoli boy indicating he wanted to be held. " Ah hell no! He is not your uncle, I won't allow shitty Deku to hold my son" Bakugou yelled, making a few snicker quietly, but what really set them off was the fact his son chopped his head with a little fist. "Oi, why the hell did ya do that for ya brat? Bakugou barks at his son, only receiving a deadpan expression in return. " Mommy said, every time your daddy is mean to uncle Izu chop his head for me, okay baby?" After that announcement they all burst out laughing, while Midoriya tried not to tremble under Bakugou's glare.

"Speaking of which, who is your mom?, uhm I never got your name, little guy" Kirishima asked the little boy, stating a valid point. Bakugou realized that even though he had known his son for about 5 hours now, he never once asked what the boy's name was. " What do you mean, Uncle Kiri, it's me Katsuma?" Katsuma tilted his head a bit, not really being aware or understanding that he most likely travelled through time. " Well you aren't born in our time yet, mini Bakugou" Kaminari informed the little boy, in his usual teasing voice. " Really Uncle Kami" Little Katsuma asked " Does this mean mommy and daddy aren't together yet?" He asked, surprising the teenagers. Katsuma was surprisingly smart for a kid his age, and after the initial shock from being called daddy Katsuki totally forgot to ask about his son's mother.

"That is correct, Katsuma'' Todoroki piped up in his usual monotone voice, surprising Katsuma with his appearance. " Uncle Todo'' Katsuma replied coolly, surprising everyone present. The happy bubbly 5 year old had vanished in an instant, and been replaced with a little boy full of hatred. Breaking the little staring contest that had broken out between his son and the damn half n half bastard, was none other than Midoriya's phone. Being the klutz that he is, he ended up answering and putting it on speaker. " Izuku, Ochaco said there was a cute kid at your dorm, so I'm coming over " y/n voice could be heard, instantly Katsuma brightened up again being all sparkles and rainbows again. He tugged at his dad's collar, demanding Katsuki's attention " daddy, daddy did you hear, mommy's coming over" the little ash blonde exclaimed, bouncing in his fathers arms from being giddy. This new information caused everybody's jaw to land on the floor once again.

" WHY, why does Bakugou get the hot chick? '' Mineta yelled in agony, being the little pervert he is, he had to comment on her looks. " Oi, don't talk about my future wife and baby mama y/n like that, I'll fucking blast you to hell" His statement followed by the crackeling in his palm, and the sound of a phone being dropped? Turning around Bakugou was met with your stunned face, eyes blown wide with confusion and astonishment clearly written on your face. " Mommy" Katsuma yelled, squirming trying to get out of his fathers embrace, and slowly Katsuki sat him down. When his small feet hit the floor, Katsuma was sprinting towards y/n with all his might and flinging himself into her arms. Resulting in the poor girl, falling down on the floor in her confusion.

Katsuma buried his face in her neck, sighing happily to himself. The remaining nerves he had totally disappeared once he saw you. As much as Katsuma was a daddy’s boy, he was even more of a mama’s boy. Katsuma could feel the lack of response coming from his mother, curious and slightly scared he looked at her face. you were absolutely stunned, no response came from you frightening the young boy. Tears began swimming in Katsuma’s beautiful e/c eyes, snapping you back to reality. The sight of a child with tears in his eyes, struck your motherly instincts. Answers could wait, right now there was an adorable toddler with tears in his eyes, and you had to comfort him.

Slowly Katsuma was pulled into your embrace, head buried in the crock of your neck. Arms wrapped tightly around the preciuóus boy, letting him cling to you for deer life. “ M-mommy, I m-missed you, I was s-so scared-d” Katsuma said through sobs and hiccups. Not bothering to correct him, you bounced him lightly up and down in your arms. Bakugou came and helped you onto your feet, putting an arm around your waist. His other hand began stroking Katsuma’s unruly blond hair.

Around them the rest of the class was still stunned into silence, seeing the small family in an embrace. Most of them had never seen Bakugou look so protective and calm, let alone with a small blush. You would also sport a matching blush if it weren’t for the fact, all your attention was on the young boy in your arms. He looked like a carbon copy of Katsuki, yet his e/c eyes looked exactly like yours. Slowly the sniffles stopped. Instead they were replaced by steady breathing, it seems like the child had a long day because he was fast asleep in your arms.

Slowly you made your way to the 1-A dorm living room couch, with the sleeping child in your arms and Bakugou not far behind you. He made it a point to keep his hand on the small of your back, glaring at the other guys present if they looked at your or his son the wrong way. “ Can somebody please explain to me what is going on?” You whispered so you wouldn’t wake up the young boy, whose name you still hadn’t caught. Your eyes caught Izuku’s eyes, but for some reason his eyes widened and he averted his gaze from you. Izuku is one of your best friends, you met because you and your classmate Hatsume Mei worked on his hero costume and you hit it off.

With your attention not fully on the child anymore, you now realised that somebody had their arm around your shoulders. Looking to your right where the owner would be stítting, your eyes widened slightly at the person on your right. One of the hottest guys in UA had his arm around you, Bakugou Katsuki of class 1-a was well known in the school. His temper, looks and quirk had made him extremely popular with the female population of UA, though none of them dared approach him. The bad boy image both attracted them and made them keep their distance from him. He wasn’t exactly known for being a teddy bear, so Katsuki hugging y/n closer to him and keeping touching her was not expected.

“ Oi Flashlight, brat is ours from the future. I don't know how he got here but it’s true. He even has my quirk, you know what this means right ” Bakugou spoke, explaining the situation. The others had left the two of you alone, giving Bakugou privacy to explain the surreal situation to you. What this means? What did he mean by that? You couldn’t help but ponder the meaning. Turning your head to face him and question him on what he meant, you were met with a very close Bakugou. Bakugou couldn’t contain himself seeing you look so adorably clueless, so he closed the small gap between you.

His lips were surprisingly soft. He was gentle in kissing you, not knowing how you would react. I mean you had to like him back right? You were sitting there next to hum with YOUR SON in your arms. He smelled nice, it was a sweet scent like caramel courtesy of his quirk. The kiss was slow, loving and gentle, the feeling of his lips on yours were intoxicating. Pulling back from the kiss, Bakugou growled silently, huskily in your ear “Your mine, flashlight” Heat crept up your neck, and you were left softly blushing. “ What are we going to do with him Bakugou?” Still facing Bakugou, you looked at your son from the future. There really was no mistake, he looked like a perfect Katsuki copy with your eyes, and your motherly instincts told that this was in fact your son.

“It’s Katsuki to you Flashlight ” He corrected you “For now let's go to bed, it’s late. We can ask the squirt questions tomorrow” Katsuki led you to his room, still with a sleeping Katsuma in your arms. His bed was big enough to fit the three of you. You laid down with Katsuma in the middle, both you and Katsuki put an arm around Katsuma. Katsuki intertwined your fingers, and slowly you fell into a blissful sleep. You could ask more questions tomorrow.

But when you woke up, Katsuma was nowhere to be found. Only you and Katsuki were cuddling in his bed. You and Katsuki both came to the conclusion that whatever quirk sent Katsuma here probably sent him back to his own time. “Katsuki, is it wrong of me to miss him already?” You looked at your new boyfriend, looking into his sleepy vermillion orbs. “ If you miss the little firecracker already, why don’t we bring him back” His morning voice was rough, and tickled your ears just right, sending a shiver down your spine. Bakugou's eyes glinted with mischief, as he began kissing your neck. The innuendo not lost on you, the feeling of his lips on a particular spot had you giggling. It was ticklish and stopped him in his tracks for just long enough for you to get a word in. “ Let’s wait a few years okay” He nodded and laid down next to you again, pulling you close.

You would see Katsuma again. Someday.

#mha #bakugou #dad au #xreader #dadbakugou #momreader #timetravel #bnha #bnha bakugo x reader #bakusquad

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thunderheadfred · 3 years

Text

💥Bakugou HC's💥

Aged-up pro hero Katsuki for all of these. Some NSFW beneath the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

He’s scary good at everything he tries. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. It’s infuriating. Has zero patience when other people can’t immediately master a skill. Never let him teach you anything. Not that he’d offer, nerd.

He WILL offer, though. A lot. He can’t believe you still can’t Do That Thing. Tsh. Like THIS. You're gonna hurt yourself, Dummy.

But hold on. Of course you have unique skills of your own. You work hard to improve yourself. Trust me, he's the first person to notice. He doesn't praise anyone lightly, so when he raises his eyebrows and whispers he's impressed, your heart will go thermonuclear.

Perfect spelling and fully punctuated texts. Never uses abbreviations. Employs a grand total of four emojis, all of them angry faces. Constantly leaves you on read. He's busy, dammit.

Doesn’t smile or laugh in public (except sarcastically). His real smile is a crooked, fragile thing. Never make him feel self-conscious about it, or you might not see it again for weeks.

He does not talk about his private life to the press. Ever. Will K.O. rookie reporters who can't keep their big mouths shut.

HOweVER: he's intensely kind to his fans. There is a whole photographic sub-genre of little girls in cosplay hugging Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight like he's a Disney Princess.

Too smart for his own good. Emotionally hyper-vigilant. Overthinks every interaction to hell and back. Will act like he's not listening but actually hears every single word in a ten-block radius.

INSECURE AF. 110% convinced he will never be good enough. Terrified of his loved ones leaving him behind. Does he do anything to assuage his fears? Like... talk to anyone about it? Hell no. That would require admitting he has fears to begin with.

Seeing people upset makes him upset, especially if he doesn't know how to fix it.

The epitome of being mean because he cares. He genuinely does not seem to comprehend that monosyllabic grunts and lopsided shrugs are not actually that comforting.

Because he was such a brat growing up, he wants to make up for it now. Sort of. In his own way. Look, he's trying, okay?

He smells - so - good. Obscenely good. He doesn't wear cologne; are you joking? There's the burnt-sugar caramel candy smell of his quirk, for starters. And since he sweats deadly ammunition, he showers and wipes himself down almost constantly. He always smells clean. Like a fucking meadow.

Never got that growth spurt he was hoping for. He’s a short man - not even THAT short - but he has a Napoleon complex anyway. If you’re taller than him, the collars of your shirts will all be stretched out. He’s constantly dragging you down to his level. He will assert himself all the fucking time; the pissing contest is never-ending. Don’t wear tall shoes unless you want him to drag you around on a leash. If you’re shorter than him, that’s good. That’s very good. He likes that.

He’s an incredible cook, but everything he makes is a nuclear fire challenge. Adapt or starve.

- - - - -

Dating

Makes artisanal, nutritionally flawless bento lunches for both of you. When people assume his S.O. makes them, he gets fucking pissed. Damn right your co-workers are jealous of my cooking.

Your pet name is Dummy. Don’t like it? Fine. You can be dumbass.

There will be zero PDA in this relationship. His hands are shoved so deep in his pockets you can’t even try.

Intensely private with the press. But with his friends, he will brag about you nonstop. Bakugou Katsuki has the most talented and attractive and intelligent S.O., and anyone who doesn't recognize that is blind. Were you assholes even listening?

A mutual buddy definitely recorded one of these drunken brag-rants and sent it to you for safekeeping. Do not let Katsuki find out about it, unless you enjoy having an ash pile for a phone.

Gets jealous about everything, at least at the start. He calms down eventually. Kinda. He stops saying shit to you about it, anyway, because he learns to trust you. But anyone who so much as looks at you in a too-friendly manner will get the death stare of a lifetime.

He’ll throw all kinds of temper tantrums and the two of you will argue about every tiny fucking thing. He’ll scream out car windows, he’ll ball up his shirt and gnash on it. But he will never raise his voice at you. He’d rather die than make you feel unsafe.

Honestly, the constant bickering is really just... uhh... passionate communication. Eventually you both hash out the important things. You'll learn how to step around his landmines and actually make your points, and he'll learn to open up. A little.

Once you meet his mom, Katsuki starts to make a lot more sense. His family just... emotes like that. Eventually, you and his dad form a spousal support group consisting of exactly two lifetime members. He teaches you the Bakugou family semaphore you need to survive a long-term relationship.

Katsuki can dish it out but absolutely cannot take it. The only person who can level with him about serious issues without explosive fallout is his dad. Or, on a lucky day, Kirishima.

If you give him a legitimate criticism (even gently!) he will take it about as gracefully as a knife to the gut, because it confirms everything he hates about himself.

To your never-ending shock, you’ve made him cry. Yes, CRY! You monster! More than once! His lip gets all *trembly* and his eyes get all *watery* and all you want to do is hug him, but. No. He’ll storm out and wander around for a few hours before coming back with the problem perfectly solved.

He always takes your advice to heart. No, he will NOT talk about it, stop asking.

Gets mad if you don’t snuggle him on the regular. Will drag you into his lap with a pissy little grunt. There might be two seats on this couch but you will not be needing both of them.

Takes pictures of you while you sleep.

Takes even more pictures of you when you're awake but think he's out of the room.

He looks at all these pictures when he's away on high-stakes jobs. He gets all bleary eyed and sleeps in a salty puddle without you. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.

You don’t have to meet him at the door or anything, but when he says “I’m home,” you’d better answer fast. If he doesn’t know your precise location in 0.05 seconds, he will assume you’ve been kidnapped. He never checks the fridge for notes. Never assumes you've gone down to the konbini for a snack. No, it’s kidnapping every time.

A terrrrrrible bed partner. He goes to bed at senior citizen hours and will never fuck you after sundown. He snores SO loud. Runs hot and sweats through the sheets. Slaps and elbows you in his sleep and aggressively spoons you with his loud, sweaty body. You WILL want to suffocate him. Separate bedrooms aren’t such a horrible idea......

BUT HANG ON, because in the morning he transforms into an honest-to-god angel. He's half awake, his guard is non-existent. Morning Katsuki is a doting kissy-faced marshmallow man.

If you can wake up before the ass-crack of dawn, he will pamper the fuck out of you. You are royalty for one (1) hour only, and he is your bleary-eyed slave. You want a cuddlefuck? You got it. Hugs? Kisses? Take as many as you need. You want a perfect, fluffy, NON-SPICY omelette with a heart drawn in ketchup? Here it is, gorgeous.

Then he gets in the shower and the spell is broken.

- - - - -

💥bang BANG💥

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: this here is an ASS. MAN. He'll spank you with his quirk; doesn’t matter if you’ve been good or bad. Wants to see you wince when you sit down later.

Likes pounding you face down with a vice grip on your waist.

Unfortunately, even with all that said... he doesn't exactly have the feral beast sex drive you were expecting. He’s married to his work and has the fuddy-duddy habits of a once and future valedictorian. Only fucks you when he has the time and energy to fully dedicate himself to it.

But ohhhh. Shit. When it's time? It's TIME. The man will rush for nothing. Stamina for days. Making you cum as many times as possible is a point of pride. Yeah, you passed out once.

You’re gonna need those days off when he’s done with you.

That dick THICC.

Sends unsolicited dick pics. Only after you’ve been dating a good long while - he doesn't show that shit to just anyone. But yeah, don’t check your phone at work. He won't cum without you; those pictures and videos are time bombs. You better get home. Now.

Physically dominant as FUCK, but won’t verbally degrade you unless you ask. Well, let’s be honest. Unless you beg.

Praise him and reap the rewards. A long hard ego stroking will get him off more than touching his cock ever will.

Will grab your hair and fuck your throat. Will also stop immediately if you need him to.

The two of you have safe words and gestures. Even for vanilla stuff. He’s paranoid about scaring or hurting you. He insisted you both sign a color-coded ‘love contract’ that he meticulously formatted in a word processor. When you gave him guff about it, his blush was the darkest crimson you’d ever seen.

Coin-flip: he will sometimes be unbelievably gentle in bed. Doting and affectionate, taking perfect care of you. Like, it’s baffling. There’s no warning, the switch just flips. When you want him to be extra-rough and mean, he’ll sweetly worship you instead. For hours.

Bonus: he likes being penetrated. But of course he’s got a complex about that too. Super intense power bottom. You will never fuck him hard enough. He’d like to see you try. Hit his prostate just right and he might literally explode.

You'll live happily ever after but he will say he loves you out loud exactly once. Maybe. If you're lucky. And you're both about to die.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #gender neutral #mha #bnha #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #fred writes

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yoondles · 3 years

Text

Grow As We Go - M.YG

CEO! Min Yoongi x CEO! Reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: Marrying your ex isn’t really something you want to do.

Themes: Heavy angst, fluff if you squint for 2 seconds, smut, it ends happily.

Word count: 10k, Unedited

Inspo: Trivia: Seesaw by MYG & Grow As We Go by Ben Platt

Warnings: Yoongi calls you a whore, Yoongi’s pp is huge, reader is a virgin, talks about their toxic relationship, biting/nipping, breast play, light humiliation, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, creampie, unprotected seggs, mature language and that’s about it 😐.

A/N: lastly, I haven’t gotten the chance to proofread this and I’m sorry for any mistakes. This is my first fic so feel free to share your thoughts, thank youuu! 😭

You knew you were screwed. The way he held placed his hands inside his pocket, the heavy footsteps that would leave an impression to the carpeted floor of the airport, and the way his eyebrows arched. You were really fucking screwed.

It was the same posture he held one year ago, a few months prior to the separation that lead to the awkwardness that blossomed amidst your honeymoon days. It was eerie silence. You saw the way his veins would pop the moment he saw you as if he was clenching his jaw hard, trying to prevent himself from doing anything he regretted. You refused to make an eye contact with him.

The crowd was going wild, five months after your announced marriage, this was your first public appearance together, as a couple known by the entire nation. The fact that he was Min Yoongi didn’t help either, in fact, more people got interested in your relationship because it was about Min Yoongi.

He was one of the seven bachelors, the current head of BigHit Inc., a large conglomerate. He’s an adopted son of the late Mr. Bang, all of which grew to become individual talents, either blessed in terms of dancing, singing, poetry, even rapping. “Where the fuck have you been?” Cocking one of his brows up as he scrutinised you, looking at your small figure with an imposing look, something that would’ve threatened any normal citizen.

But not you. You knew Yoongi like the back of your hand. Having spent about 5 years of your life in an attempt to make the best out of your arranged marriage with him really helped out. Except for the fact that the two of you haven’t spoken for about one year prior to the wedding itself, and the fact that you were former lovers who decided it wouldn’t work out.

“Japan,” you shrugged him off, dismissing your assistant by giving him your luggage as you tried your best to hide your face from the agonising cameras that the paparazzi held against your face. Thankfully, they were kind enough to make way for the two of you, parting as the newly wedded pair made their way towards the vehicle.

He scoffed at your answer, baffled. He pushed his hair back in annoyance, “why didn’t you tell me anything about this?” You ignored him. Noticing the whispers and glances the people exchanged with one another. You were drifting away, pulled back to reality with the harsh grab you felt in your shoulder, stopping you from moving further. “About what?” You shook his hand off as you attempted to push through. The vehicle seemed to be moving further away from the two of you as tension was quick to rise.

“You, Japan?” You shook your head, walking a tad bit faster this time around. “Hello?” He spoke a bit louder this time, the large empty area made sure that everyone heard him. It was the echoes that reached you. “Just, let me get inside the car,” your voice was getting louder by the second, as the media started cluttering around the two of you, trying to get into the details of what seemed to be an argument between two of the richest heirs in South Korea.

“Can you let me talk to my fucking wife?” His voice was a tad bit louder than earlier, it was nothing that surprised you. He seemed to be fond with wanting himself heard, what shocked you though was the harsh grip that left you wincing as he pulled you inside the car. It was only when you were in front of the door that you managed to shake him off, opening the door yourself as you slumped against the leather seat.

Quickly, you turned away from him, closing your eyes as you forced yourself to shut him out. Pretending that Min Yoongi was a fragment of your imagination and he was no way real, that this was some made up bullshit you fantasised about at 3 AM. “Y/N!” He yelled out your name, anger evident in his voice, as the metal on his seatbelt crashed repeatedly against the plastic, cursing loudly as the driver began to move.

“You couldn’t have fucking waited, could you?!” The loud empty halls in your makeshift home was amplifying your voice. The loud banging of the door was your signal to continue your short rant regarding his unprofessional work, in front of the news outlets that would milk every second that passed in front of them.

“To hell with that, why didn’t you fucking tell me you were going to Japan?” You mocked his tone with a very small voice, removing your heels as you paraded the long hallway, rolling your eyes in the process. Coming to a halt the moment he pulled you back to him with a harsh tug on your wrist. You were quick to react, his face contorting as if confused as to whether he should apologise or continue his facade. “Why should I?” It was a push and pull type of relationship, undoing your dress in front of him was a huge part of the show.

The garment was quick to pool around your feet, swaying your hips gently as you flaunted your white pair of underwear. Moving towards the closet, eyes meeting his through the large mirror. For a moment he paused, taking a few seconds to glance at your body. Taking every curve, every mole, everything he could with such a short amount of time.

“Well, let me see. I’m your husband!”

“Legally, wouldn’t say I voluntarily married you.” You shrugged, grabbing the closest pair of pyjama you found. “Real mature, y/n. It would’ve been nice if I’d gotten a memo, you know?”

“It’s not like you would’ve cared.” You did your best in everything, and right now, pissing him off was on the top of your priorities. Casually grabbing the discarded garment as you walked outside your bedroom, dumping everything in the nearby laundry room, he continued to follow you around like a shadow.

You knew he was pissed. His breathing was a lot harsher, unlike earlier when he was wearing a mask, right now you could see he entirety of his face as he bit his lip in annoyance. “We’re going there, aren’t we?” You nodded, feeling a lot more giddy knowing you did your best to rile him up. Jumping your way towards the kitchen, greeting the maids as you walked over the counter, grabbing a yellow banana.

“Do you seriously think I have no right to know where you are? Is that another privilege I’m not entitled too, hm?”

“Yes, actually. I don’t want you meddling with my business, I want you as far away as possible.” He pursed his lips, placing his hands against his hips as he looked at you dumbfounded. “Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t care about your stupid company. I just want to know if my wife’s safe or if she’s dead.”

“Don’t use the wife card on me, Min Yoongi. Stop acting like you gave a damn about my well-being two weeks ago.” The air conditioning seemed to be working extra harder as the air surrounding the two of you seemed to be a lot more thicker and colder now. His eyebrow slowly arched upwards as he gazed at you, carefully shooting the banana peel inside the automated trash can.

Walking your way towards the fridge to grab a cold glass of water, as he intently gazed at you. “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, offering him a glass of water before placing it back inside the fridge as you washed it yourself. “I’m just returning the favour, it’s not like I knew where you’ve been the past two months.”

Yoongi was confused, it was amusing to look at him, acting innocently after the crimes he’s committed just three months into the relationship that sealed the two of you towards a muddy path to eternity. “Two months? What?”

“Yes, I don’t fucking know where you’ve been, how you’ve managed to slither past my hands, and how you fucking act like you don’t have a wife at home.” That shut him up. It was silence that followed the short confession you managed to squeeze out after days if trying to keep everything together.

“So to hell with Japan, to hell with you trying to know where I’ve been. Because I’ve been clueless for the past two months, not once did you tell me you were off somewhere.”

It was oddly, fulfilling. To be able to give your pent up emotions some freedom after a few days of relaxation. It was a different kind of satisfaction when you saw the way his face moved, the way his facial features would move with every word that left your mouth. You saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, as if figuring out why everything had to happen.

It was at this moment you declared your first victory, moving past him, making sure to touch his shoulder with yours on the way out of the kitchen, locking yourself in your bedroom. Your own personal space, far away from what was intended to be your shared space. Because you and Min Yoongi both appreciated privacy far too much.

It was an immature fight, sure. But that was everything that you and Yoongi had been. Immature lovers who wanted each others’ time for each other, the only thing that you managed to do well was break up publicly and settling everything in private. That was a big enough red flag, however, there was an agreement older than the two of you. Somehow, it managed to slap you both in the back of your heads.

Your relationship with him remained platonic. As if nothing had changed between the two of you, like you were the same pair of lovers who broke up with one another one year ago. Living with him had been many things, it was very exhausting having to keep up with his lifestyle.

It was draining to the point of no return, where you’ve been pushed past all your limits and somehow he chooses to ignore everything instead of addressing it. And it had always been like that, was there not any growth? You assumed there would be some, at least a few, but you thought wrong.

You wanted everything to die out, before proceeding with your plans. The two of you had made an agreement that within the span of two years, you’d be out of the marriage. However, with his brothers growing massively successful, the press made sure to watch almost every movement Min Yoongi made. It doesn’t help that he was private, now that he had to be exposed the media tried its’ best to pry him open. So yes, it had been very exhausting. You only needed two years, and you’d be back to the same situation you had been before.

Eating dinner had been uneventful. It consisted of you looking for the perfect video to watch while sitting in the dining table, your food getting colder every minute that passed. As if you hadn’t had an argument earlier, you had no idea where Yoongi was, whether he was safe or if he was fucking another bitch in the club, hell, maybe he was with someone who could satiate his needs, be there for him, fill up whatever you space you failed to replenish.

Was it painful knowing that? Yes. You could be there for him, you wanted him to at least try and approach you as much as you tried to form a coherent bond with him. It won’t be the same as it was two years ago, but you at least wanted to have a friendship with him. You want the two of you to be able to talk to one another without yelling, cursing. You wanted something to happen, something that was better than your current situation.

Your two weeks in Japan had been the greatest time of your life since your marriage. You’d assume that working there would be no different than if you worked from home, however, there was no empty space in Japan. There was no Min Yoongi reminding you that you were married, yelling that you hated your current life situation and that you wanted to escape. It was a breath of fresh air, but it only lasted for a while, not after his secretary bombarded your secretary.

The door closed with a loud “bang!”. It was something you’ve gotten used to over the course of five months, because you know well enough that Yoongi could never close the door without trying to release his pent up anger. He looked sleek, admittedly, he looked very charming wearing his black turtleneck, and his black coat. But you knew that you needed to stay away, as he removed his shoes, you shut down the television, walking fast while chewing on a piece of kimchi. There was a pause, it was the moment you made eye contact with him.

But you ignored it, walking away with your bowl towards your room. Normally, he’d find you in your room, however, he arrived earlier than usual. Fridays would usually mean that he’d be coming home late, trying to clear up his schedule for the weekends, but he was here in all his glory. “Have you been keeping up with the news?” You were holding a chicken bone, gnawing on it as you were about to pull the door, entering your room, but you were a few seconds late. You shook your head slowly.

He took a few steps closer as he began to open his phone.

“Min Yoongi caught desperately trying to save marriage!”

That was one of the very few articles that had appeared in his phone. Alongside, “Divorce Makes Way For The Newly Wedded Min Couple!” You gave him a shrug, unsure as to what he was waiting for, what reaction he wanted upon showing you mediocre headlines. “Well, I’m glad they’ve reported reliable news.” You could practically see smoke fume out of his nostrils in annoyance. “The fuck do you want me to do? Make a call and tell them no, when we were clearly in the middle of an argument earlier?”

He gritted his teeth, his tongue poking out his cheek as he placed both one of his hands in his hips, the other reaching his forehead as if he was trying to ease a random headache he managed to acquire within the three minutes of talk time you allowed each other to have. “This is the first time they’re seeing us, I’m quite pleased with the reaction.” The sarcasm was dripping off of every word, again, you shrugged. Gently placing the bowl down as you stared at him trying to figure out what he wanted from you.

“You’re a CEO, Min Yoongi. You’re not a performer like your brothers are, this doesn’t mean shit to the millions you earn weekly. None of this matters.” You knew that the reason for this was his brothers’ fame, they were out in the spotlight while he was in the dark. This urged the media to move towards Yoongi’s direction more, as he seemed someone who was more intriguing. Someone who’s name stood out in the crowd, despite not being a public character.

“Do you not care about the reputation you have as an individual?”

“Well in the first place, none of this would have happened if you sat down in your goddamn office chair, like you’re supposed to be doing. Not waiting for me in the airport,”

“Glad you appreciate the effort though, was I supposed to not greet you? After disappearing for two fucking weeks?” He let out a laugh, huffing as he placed down his coat somewhere in the sofa. “You yelled in front of everyone, I asked you to wait, to at least let everything boil down to the moment we were inside the vehicle!” It was a matter of proving who’s fault it really was at this point, it was the same immature fight you’d always have but never seemed to resolve.

“Why do you care so much about everyone else? Why do you care about their opinion, when they barely know you.” That was your conclusion, you halted, and moved towards your room. The bowl was left halfway full in the counter, long forgotten as you’ve lost whatever was left of your will to eat the moment Yoongi presented the news articles he found to be fascinating.

In an attempt to move on from the situation, you distanced yourself from him. The already existing wall between the two of you had only grown taller. You did your best to avoid him, even going as far as checking the CCTVs from your office just to see if he was home, letting him do his nightly routine before proceeding to going home yourself. You wanted no physical interaction, in fact, even the invitation that had been sent for the two of you had been forwarded by him through email.

Even your cellphone numbers had been rendered useless, as you barely talked through messages, not once had he called.

You didn’t know how the night would pan out, you just had to get through this, wear a dress that fit the theme, and pretend that the two of you had been happily married for the past six months. Easy, you thought it’d be easy. However, the void that stood in between the two of you had been way too big to even mend. So, you sat there, tapping your fingers against the soft satin fabric of your dress. Awkwardly licking your lips as you failed to make an eye contact with the man beside you.

You clutched your tiny purse as you had been escorted out of the car by Min Yoongi himself, doing your best to try and act natural. Hooking your hand against his arm, as he cleared his throat in surprise, raising a brow towards your direction as you began to walk the red carpet. Similar to the airport scene, the media was everywhere. In addition to the crowd you’ve managed to form, a bunch of business elites were also waiting for the arrival of the lucky couple, having big names in the business field, wanting to please the two of you for possible collaborations and merges. The two of you were the star of the show.

You began critiquing the way the two of you walked, how his steps were far larger than yours and how you always fell behind. The way your arm awkwardly hung from his, how you attempted to push back stray pieces of hair with your other hand.

Parties had always been your cup of tea, you enjoyed them, you saw them as business opportunities. But for the first time in your life, you lacked the confidence to power through the event, your feet were already worn out from the heels you chose to wear, everything was not going as planned and you were terrified that it showed through. What a hypocrite you were, scolding Yoongi for caring too much despite being anxious yourself.

There was a buffet, wine, champagne, and all of Yoongi’s brothers had also been present. They greeted the two of you, which you happily returned, never missing the sly smirk they gave off especially the way Taehyung laughed at your awkward posture, pointing out that he read the previous articles that mentioned the two of you. The part you dreaded was yet to come, it was at that moment that the old Mr. and Mrs. Choi walked in front of your and began asking you questions.

“You look wonderful tonight!” Mrs. Choi gushed at the two of you, her hands clinging onto yours and Yoongi’s as she began to shake the two of them. You smiled politely, exchanging quiet glances with Yoongi, you were screwed. The old couple loved gossiping, they were familiar with all distributors and were often referred to as the “trusted affiliate” that could juice out everything out of a growing issue in South Korea.

“So do you, I really love your earrings!” You returned the excitement, pointing out wherever your eyes had landed first, so it happened to be her earrings. “Thank you! I got them from Chanel, a little outdated but they do the job.” A few awkward sentences later, they began to ask you about what they were really here for. “I’m so glad the two of you were able to attend, I’ve been anxious since the moment we read the issues, we thought you’d be separating, again.” It was the emphasis on the word again that had Yoongi clenching the glass a little harder, enough for the tips of his finger to turn white. However, his composure remained calm, you gently tapped your heel against his leather shoes.

“Arguments do happen, I’m sure you and mr. Choi have also been victims of small fights every now and then, in the end, don’t we all find ways to resolve these?” He ended by bringing the wine closer to his lips, the dark hue beginning to stain his pink plump lips. The couple laughed.

Navigating a conversation with the Choi’s had always been dangerous, at any moment either one of you could stumble upon a trip mine. On top of this, the lack of communication with Yoongi could lead to possible contradiction of your answers, you didn’t discuss anything nor did you prepare for any interviews.

Their many attempts to find new headlines had almost been unsuccessful, almost. “When are you planning to have kids?” Mr. Choi asked, drinking the sparkling drink in his hand as Mrs. Choi complimented him through her fond eyes.

“Right, it has been six months since the two of you had been married. When are we seeing little Yoongi’s, little y/n’s?” The four of us shared a hearty laugh, “well, my wife and I want more time for each other. Not to say we don’t have any plans in the future, but we don’t intend to have kids as of this moment.” It was a good enough answer, barely any information but it was enough to get a good click worthy title. “Oh, interesting. As much as we’d love to stay, we do have to meet a few more people.”

“We’d leave the two of you be, I’m certain you’d want to talk to hipper and younger guests.”

The two of you gave a polite smile, sighing loudly as they finally left your table. You downed the glass of wine faster than you had done before, the heat in your throat finally easing the tension you’d been feeling. You shared an awkward glance, lightly chuckling after deeming the interaction as somewhat successful.

“You did great,” you praised Yoongi, he started scratching the back of his head as his cheeks glowed in a pink hue, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. “Who would’ve thought that that would work out?” Biting your lip as you shyly smile at him. It was you getting flustered all over again, similar to how your dimples would show, how you’d look at your feet in order to avoid his stares, those five beautiful years had always been dear to your heart. However, the breakup was almost inevitable.

The two of you were growing at your own pace, while you were busy preparing to be the next CEO, Yoongi had already been managing the company. Although you tried to make ends meet, it still happened. It started with small immature fights, soon it evolved to the days you would fail to meet, bigger arguments emerged, and although you tried your best to settle everything, you were not in the right state of mind. The never ending pressure that erupted from your family, the business meetings, the small problems you encountered in your day-to-day life. Everything collided.

You wanted to find comfort in Yoongi, you wanted him to be the safe space you needed whenever you wanted, but you became selfish. You would tell him everything, disregarding the fact that he too had problems, that he was also suffering considering that a job meant to be split into seven members, were all being handled by one. He tried his best, but on some days it got too much for him to handle, and one day, he finally exploded. He ended the relationship the two of you had, a five year relationship ended in the course of three months.

And now here you were, using your newfound attitude as a way to cope with the heartache that you still feel deep within your heart. Acting like a spoiled kid who was denied for the first time.

What you didn’t know was how much Yoongi had been suffering too. How much he wanted to come to you, and how much he needed to be with you. To him, the arrangement was a blessing in disguise. It felt like a huge blow in the gut when you had suggested a divorce after the noise you’ve made died down, from then he began to feel dejected. Slowly overworking himself, trying his best to distract himself from the fact that you would never be his. The distraction he made soon lead to distance, distance between the two of you.

He tried to act tough around you, spiteful even. But when he remembers how you implicitly rejected his proposal to a life with him, he’d attempt to push through. Putting on this mask as if he was tough, that he was different from the Yoongi you once knew, that he’d no longer be there for you. He halted all of his actions, actions he thought would bring the two of you together. Forming a stronger bond compared to the five years you’ve spent together.

With you acting poorly in front of him, using aggressive retaliation, and him being terrified of the rejection you unknowingly did, your relationship was in a standstill. You were two people who wanted each other, and sadly, there might be no way of knowing that you two did feel the same way.

Despite the flashing lights, the smiles you tried to offer other business associates, you still ended up back into your dark and gloomy house. It was large, had many empty walls and was barely decorated. There was no way of telling if the house was occupied or not, it was far too... professional? It had no character, no visible sign of change, it was bare.

The dark room you managed to inhabit for the past six months reminded you of how lonely you’ve been feeling, how different you were from the persona you tried to play outside of the walls. You’ve grown so accustomed to loneliness that it became such a huge part of your life, you could barely even remember how you acted before you were married to Yoongi, how carefree you were. It was pitiful how a rich, privileged woman like you was stuck inside a place you didn’t feel comfortable in.

It wasn’t the idea of being alone that made you feel lonely, it was living with someone with no physical reaction despite being entitled to at least a little bit of skin-on-skin contact, a hug would’ve been a big help. With these thoughts, you pulled your hand away from Min Yoongi’s as you began to wave the pathway towards the front door. Crossing your arms as you moved in, avoiding him as you made it as quickly as possible towards your bedroom.

Yoongi stood behind the door, for a night that had gone so well, your reaction had been far too harsh. Leaving him as soon as you had the opportunity, as if he were something so toxic to you that you couldn’t even stand being with him, alone, for at least a minute. He felt his chest swell, it wasn’t the good type of swell, it was fucking painful.

Removing his leather shoes, and walking towards the master bedroom, he asked himself what ifs, what if the two of you managed to handle everything more maturely, to the point of having a proper relationship up until now? What if the two of you had really wanted it? Would things be better?

Good grief, of course, things would have been so much better. He cursed himself silently, muttering under his breath as he took the moment to blame himself for just ending the relationship the moment he had the chance too. He didn’t even give himself enough time to process the decision he’d been making. On that same day, he was collected by Kim Namjoon, his brother, in a local bar. He was passed out, his Armani suit reeked of alcohol as he tried his best to push Namjoon away. Telling him desperately that he was fine and that he could drive himself home.

If only fate had been a little forgiving, if only. Coincidentally, on that same night, two establishments away, you’d been busy getting drunk. Two drunk adults had been found passed out, the two of them reeking of alcohol, upset about the same relationship that could’ve been something if it weren’t for their carelessness.

The bitterness of yesterday had easily died down the moment that your nostrils engaged with the familiar scent of coffee, it was an early Saturday morning. The curtains had been automatically opened using an A.I, giving you a marvellous view of the infinity pool outside your room. Stretching your limbs as you carefully stepped outside after putting on your Hello Kitty slippers, you were greeted by your husband doing what he was best at, making coffee.

The situation would’ve been more lax if the two of you were on speaking terms but, you weren’t. He offered you a fresh cup of coffee, something you were quick yo take, a soft “thank you,” escaped your lips before letting the warm liquid pass through. Whilst you stood there in your Sanrio pyjama, the other man stood fully clothed with his suit. He was all geared up for work, something you never quite understood. From what you know about him, he’d always been quite the workaholic, he didn’t have time to pause.

“I’ll be off,” he pursed his lips, forming a thin line of something that resembled a smile. You nodded as you took another sip of the warm coffee. Just like that, he left holding a tumbler with coffee, and his car keys. “Well, at least he bothered this time...” you murmured, walking towards the refrigerator to gather ingredients for your pancakes.

You were busy dancing as you flipped distorted, the television was playing, it served as your background music as you enjoyed the short freedom you had. You made another cup of coffee, bringing the mug and grabbing maple syrup from the cabinet, drizzling it on top of the semi-perfect pancakes. Comfy in your pyjamas, you sat down in the couch and began to dig into the pancakes. You were in the mood, for just basically anything. You were at peace, that was what you felt. Two seconds away from pressing the button to finally turn it off, a scene quickly caught your attention.

The man who made you coffee was the same guy in the TV, Min Yoongi was guesting with his little brother on a survival program, it was about a new girl group awaiting for their debut. Today was the day they get to decide which of the members would be debuting as an official member, as a collaboration between two of the largest entertainment companies Yoongi was called out in order to monitor the members. Hoseok had been a judge since the beginning, here he was sitting next to Yoongi as they made small talk. You paused, holding the empty plate as you grew more intrigued.

Everything was going well, up until they met face-to-face with the trainees. All of the judges reunited with one another, one particular judge, Suran had been quite affectionate with Yoongi. It started with a handshake, that was no big deal, it was a formal exchange between two important judges on the show. It was something normal, very normal.

The show escalated smoothly, rushing towards the kitchen counter as you quickly washed the plate despite the maids offering you their own hands. You jumped towards the couch, and sat down, your heart was racing from the adrenaline rush. But it was all worth it as the show continued. There was nothing that interested you, aside from Min Yoongi, so of course you paid attention to him the most. It caught you by surprise when the camera panned towards their direction, there was a soft voice as Suran held Yoongi’s hand, complimenting his bracelet, making small connections with his hands. “It’s really pretty,” Suran murmured, the host went silent upon noticing the interaction between the two of them.

Yoongi was quick to bow, thanking her as soon as possible. “Your cheeks have gotten really pink!” Hoseok exclaimed, his laughter echoing through the stage. Clapping his hands every once in a while as he continued to make fun of his older brother.

Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal to you. You weren’t exactly the jealous type. However, with the way you and Yoongi were right now, and how quick he was to react to Suran’s simple compliment, the way they exchanged smiles, how they held eye contact for even a split second. Everything was making your blood boil.

You swallowed hard, it didn’t help that throughout the rest of the show the judges and the trainees kept teasing the two of them. How much did you have to pay for in order to get the same treatment as Suran did? Why did he act that way? Most importantly, how come Yoongi never lets you see this side of him, why does he always have to be mad or annoyed whenever he talked to you? How special was Suran to him that the moment the two of them stood close to one another, they had no trouble navigating through their conversation.

Oh you definitely weren’t jealous, yes you were simply making comparisons and that was natural, right? No, you hated yourself for feeling this way. How come he acted like that around her? Why can’t he act like that around you? You were annoyed at how he moved on, how happy he was. On the other hand, here you were, watching he two of them converse, still moving on from the breakup that had happened more than a year ago. You pitied yourself, you really did. “Fucking hell,” you muttered upon noticing the pooling tears from the corners of your eyes. It was at this exact moment that someone had kneeled before you.

When had he arrived? And why were you only finding out about this. Yoongi was looking at you with a worried look in his face as you desperately tried to hide your face from him, closing your eyes as soon as possible and grabbing the neck hole of your shirt as you lifted it up to cover your eyes. He grabbed the remote control and finally shut down the TV, “shh,” he quietly engulfed you with his body, the scent of his cologne slowly emanating from him. He guided you, lifting you up and walking towards your bedroom, covering your face from the rest of the maids that began to throw looks towards your direction.

It was the humiliation that struck you the most, the fact that he caught you watching his guesting on a show, and somehow found a reason to start getting jealous and ending up in such a pitiful condition which involved crying for affection was beyond you, you didn’t know what had happened. Why did you let yourself do this? You silently cursed yourself. “Baby, what happened?” He had a way with his words, somehow he managed to blend in a nickname, somehow that was enough to remind you what you had lost.

You shook your head repeatedly, trying your best to deny any feelings you showed. Pulling your shirt down, you were forced to meet his eyes, his thumbs found your tear stained cheeks, wiping them off gently as he locked eyes with you. “Why, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, you built up the courage, it was either now or never. “I don’t like seeing you with Suran, no, I don’t like seeing you acting like that around anyone else.” Your hiccups got in the way, but you managed to tell him exactly what you had wanted.

“Y/n...” he paused for a moment.

“How come you act like that around them, while you treat me like this? Why do they get better treatment? I’m your wife Yoongi, how come I get the leftovers while they get full course meals?” You heard how ridiculous you sounded, cringing at your choice of words and the way they flowed out of your lips. But you were humiliated enough, if it were a different situation then maybe you’d be laughing at yourself. “I want you all to me, Yoongi. And I know that it’s not possible, but I want us. I want what we both lost,” his fingers carded through your hair, the other massaged your back in a soothing manner, there was dead silence for a moment.

You knew you lost him.

His arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer to him as he gently placed a kiss on your forehead. He lifted your face up using his thumb, finally he kissed you on your lips. “But you already have me, y/n.” You knew it wasn’t real, there was no way this was happening right now. “You have me,” he muttered against your ear before gently sealing the space left in between your lips.

The tears you poured were all worth it, you knew from that point on that the relationship you once broke had been finally mended. You felt weight being lifted away from your chest.

You were sighing against his lips, fixing your posture as you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands slowly moving south. Grasping your arse as you shifted your position, sitting on top of his legs. You didn’t know what had taken over you at that point. You were desperate for more. The whine that left your lips wasn’t something you had voluntarily done, the moment he pulled away from you, his lips were a lot more plump. His chest was heaving, he threaded his palms in his hair as he eyed you. The two of you did your best to catch your breath.

It wasn’t the first time you stopped in the middle of doing something so sensual, you’ve always wanted your first with someone who you were willing to fully commit to.

Within the five years that you’ve spent together, Yoongi had always respected your boundaries. He stopped the moment you told him. He was a man of self control, but you knew that at some point he’d eventually reach his peak. Right now, there was nothing else you’d wish for aside from this finally happening. “Do I have you?” His forehead touched yours, his warm breath fanned over your saturated lips, closing your eyes you once again touched his lips.

He groaned against your lips.

Something unusual erupted from inside you, it was something you’ve felt before. Only now, you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Your lips parted, neck bending sideways as your breathing stuttered. His lips began working wonders, never leaving a spot on your neck untouched.

The flame that erupted from inside you began to engulf you, the moment you felt his lips against the side of your jaw, you knew you were done for. You began to slowly move your hips, moaning as you felt him nip slowly against your skin. His hands wandered through every crevice, eventually finding untouched area just below your cute little top.

You moved faster, trying to chase something you weren’t quite sure for, but for a moment you thanked the heavens above for Yoongi’s rough pants. You were a stuttering mess, grinding harder, pushing yourself even deeper against his thighs as you tried to reach something, just anything. You knew you were close, so close.

His hands worked wonders under your shirt, already unclasping your garment. Yoongi gave you all of his attention, which is why your heavy breathing didn’t go unnoticed. You were inches away from reaching that something, however, he pulled you away from your rhythm with one quick nip against your jaw, his hands clasping against the flesh of your arse, coming to a disagreement as he pulled onto them, giving you a quick slap.

“Yoongi,” you didn’t know if you were pleading him, maybe it came to you out of instinct, annoyance, you weren’t sure. But you were in too deep, you could honestly cry if he didn’t give you what you needed at that moment.

A low chuckle erupted from him, his chest moving against yours, reminding you of how close the two of you were. “Patience baby, this is your first time...” he gave you a quick peck. Holding the hem of your shirt as he gently lifted it off of you, catching his breath at the sight of your bare breasts. Hands finding their natural position as he flipped the two of you, you head cushioned against the pillows as you stared at his eyes, completely captivated by how desperate he looked, how desperate he wanted to lay his hands against your perky buds.

Starting from your lips, he made his way slowly downwards, making sure to nip the exact spot he knew to be sensitive, at this moment you hadn’t bothered to check if he was leaving marks, but with the time he took to make his way where you had wanted him, you would honestly be pissed off if you didn’t have any. He suckled on one of your breasts, making you arch your back off of the soft mattress. Gasping loudly at the newfound sensation, a drug you were exposed too for the first time, you felt his smirk. Long slender fingers began to touch the other, only adding more to the pleasure, making sure that neither of your mounds felt left out.

He pulled out of the other with a pop, mouth lingering downwards, kissing around your belly button before making its’ way towards the other one. The light illuminated the signs he left on your other boob, out of curiosity you touched your gleaming bud while he put all of his attention on the other. It was far more sensitive, your breathing had turned harsh, your throat felt constricted as you failed to let out moans, Yoongi’s ears were filled with nothing but short gasps. Your hips used your legs as support trying to get any form of contact, however, Yoongi’s legs never faltered. You only grew more desperate with every minute his lips dwelled on your breast.

Your underwear would surely be clinging onto your lips by now, you were irritated by the fabric, you wanted more, you needed it off of you.

“Yoon, please,” tears were pooling by the corner of your eyes, despite begging Yoongi whilst grinding your hips against his body, your hands grounded him against your breast. You were dazed, as if you were drowning and yet you didn’t want to be pulled out of the water, it was painful, and yet you indulged in it. It was a newfound addiction you knew you didn’t want to let go off, it was driving you crazy, towards the edge of all the boundaries you wanted to break.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your chest, you moaned loudly. You chased your breath, trying your best to calm down as he lapped your breast. You groaned even harder, protesting and demanding for something else. He grounded your hips with one of his hands, forcing you to lay still as he let go of your breast.

“God, y/n,” he left his words hanging, you lay still catching your breath as you tried to process what was happening. Sweat trickled from his neck, temporarily staining his black top. His hair was a mess, something you were responsible for, desperately clinging onto it as he showed you undiscovered territory with the small flicks of his tongue. Gently kissing your lips, you let out a sigh of relief upon feeling his calloused fingers against the material of your bottoms.

Raising your hips as you he managed to pull your underwear and your pyjamas at the same time. He pulled away from the kiss, appreciating your naked figure, his mouth was slightly open as he drunk in every detail of your body. You had nothing left to hide, lifting your chest slightly off the bed, flaunting your curves.

The moment he was able to process everything that was laid before him, he knew he was screwed. Memorising every detail, even the small mole in your thigh, everything was imprinted in his head. He knew that he’d be having a hard time from this day forward.

“A fucking goddess,” he murmured under his breath, making eye contact with you as he gently dived down, spreading your legs farther away from each other. Slowly, you revealed your entire body to him. He felt like wanton, appreciating the way your tight nether lips gently opened for him, slick evident in your thighs caused by the never ending squeeze of your legs a few minutes ago when he’d been too busy appreciating your breasts.

You looked away from him, it dawned you how exposed you had been. The way he was fully clothed, with nothing but unruly hair as evidence of the sensual act you’d been committing, you felt humiliated. Despite the fact that he was on his knees, attempting to make an eye contact right below you, you knew he was in control. He gave quick pecks just below the area you had wanted him most, “look at me,” warm air hitting your womanhood. You were innocent in this sense, everything he’d been making you feel was a first to you.

“Y/N,” he licked the inside of your thighs, and when you refused to look at him for the second time, he pulled you downwards. Like a rag doll made for him. His tongue darted straight to your clit, you’re knees felt like jelly. Closing your thighs as a response to the sudden movement, his arms we’re quick enough to wrap around your thighs, forcing them open as he let his tongue lick through the mess you’ve managed to create.

He suckled on your clit, as if licking it gently weren’t enough. Leaving open mouthed kisses, as he pushed onto the sensitive bundle of nerves using his wet appendage. You desperately hold on to the sheets, crinkling them, using your arms as support as you tried your best to hold on for your dear life. You could feel every movement he made, the way his tongue desperately tries to enter your tight hole, the way his lips would wrap around your clit, the way he would smirk after hearing you moan his name repeatedly.

“Shit, Yoongi!” You’re voice called out to him, a tad bit louder than your moans. You gasped for air, hands wrapping around his hair, legs quivering upon the new sensation that set fire to your entire body. He continued to lap your cunt, your lips growing even tighter around his tongue. The sounds he’d been able to produce was enough to drive you to the edge. Hearing how loud he was able to make your cunt sound was beyond you.

A few short breaths, the quick tug in your stomach, and the elated beating of your heart. It came crashing down on you.

You did your best, trying to close your thighs as it began to feel too much, beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you clung onto his dark hair. With one last gasp, and the closure of his lips, you came with a yell of his name. Your release was greeted by his lips, drinking you in like his favourite wine, overwhelmed by the stimulation you felt you begged him to stop. You rode your high against his muscle, finally, he pulled away.

His chin was gleaming, signs of your release scattered around his lips. Using his thumb, he picked it up. “Open,” he raised one of his brows towards your direction, you looked at him in confusion only to follow his orders. You were greeted by his thumb, you sucked on it, not hesitating despite tasting your own cum. He pulled it out only to replace it with his mouth, sharing the familiar taste, on a regular day it would’ve been odd, but to hell with it.

Whining against him, you tugged his sweater, demanding it be discarded somewhere in the expanse of your room. Chuckling once more he finally pulled away, with a quick flick of his wrist, he threw his top somewhere. You were greeted with a body you weren’t used too. He’s been working out, oh, he’s definitely been working out.

The way his chest moved as he heaved on top of you, the way his arms would flex and the veins that crawled from his hand to his shoulder, as if he was carved by the greatest sculptors. You swallowed harshly. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

You were brought back to reality when his finger poked your entrance, biting your lip as you watched in fascination, the way you wrapped around him, the way it quivered after its’ peace had been disrupted for the first time. Pumping his hand slowly as his eyes never left yours, watching the way your face would contort with every movement, closing your eyes as tightly as you could, soaring higher than the clouds that you had to remind yourself to breath every once in a while.

He felt you flesh, making slow movements as he tried different angles, deciding which one made you moan the loudest. Finally, he found your spot. His movements getting a lot harsher by the second, “god damn it, Yoongi.” You cursed him under your breath, gasping as he went faster and faster. “You think you can take more, baby?” his voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the way his hand moved harshly against your weeping cunt.

“More, please, more,” you chanted your mantra. Your wetness spreading to the rest of his fingers, a second one slipping into the mix. His movements were fast, but not fast enough. You tried to meet his thrusts, his eyebrow cocking upwards at the way you moved below him, observing how desperately you wanted to reach your climax for the second time tonight. “Who would’ve thought you’d be this desperate for my fingers, hm?” His voice getting lower and lower throughout the duration of the sentence.

You were in your own little bubble, his hand quickly surging forward, scissoring his fingers apart in an attempt to get you more loose, to get you to open up for him. Two fingers weren’t enough. Gasping as you felt his fingers do their best to stretch inside your needy little hole, his other hand reaching forward as he tried to distract you from the sudden movements he made inside.

Your clit was getting stimulated, while his other hand pumped even faster. You’re mind went blank, unsure as to what Min Yoongi had been saying for the past few minutes. You assumed you would reach your limit at any second, however, you felt a jolt of pain when he inserted his third finger. Cursing loudly as you held his hand, your breathing growing more shallow. He pumped his hand a little harsher, giving an emphasis to the three fingers he had inside of you.

He pulled the other away from your clit and stilled his movements, you tried to move away from his hand, doing your best to form coherent thoughts as you were torn between pushing even deeper or pulling away. You gasped for air, feeling him kiss your cheek as his deep voice murmured against your ear, “you’re going to need more than two if you want us to go all the way in, baby.”

Jesus Christ, how big was his cock?

These were your exact thoughts, “a minute, Yoongi.” You did your best to relax, forcing your hold to relax as he held his hand steady your cunt desperately in need of action. His other hand went back to massaging your clit, while the remaining began pumping in a slower manner. Despite getting used to the feeling of having three fingers inside of you, it was still too much for your tight unused cunt. However, it made you feel something, soon, the pain was ebbing away. “Faster,” you wish you hadn’t told him that, as his palm began hitting your clit in an abusive manner, driving you over the edge.

The strange feeling began to build up inside of you, his pace grew faster, faster, and faster. Before you knew it, you came undone. You pushed his fingers away, your legs shaking as you desperately closed them. Despite not having anything inside of you, the pleasure was still very evident. You opened your eyes to a wet Min Yoongi, realisation dawned you. “Fucking hell,” he smirked, shushing you gently as he pried your legs open, observing the quivering hole that once sheltered three of his fingers.

You had squirted.

It explained so much, the way the sheets were damp, the way his chest had been shining, your cheeks were flushed.

Your eyes found his bulge, restrained by his belt and the rough material of his pants. You didn’t know what had taken over you, but you wanted his cock. You wondered what else he could make you feel. “Want your cock, Yoongi, please. Need it so bad,”

“Do you think you could handle more?”

You nodded eagerly, despite the dwindling tiredness in your eyes, you knew you still wanted one thing just before you pass out. You wanted to explore how much you could take, what else you could possibly feel, you wanted everything. Desperation. You were desperate for everything that Min Yoongi could give you. “Please,” that was all it took to push Yoongi over the edge. His pants and his boxers had been discarded in a flash, you gazed at him, specifically at the massive thing between his thighs.

You gasped.

Maybe you were taking more than you could afford to take, upon seeing the worried look in your face, Yoongi was quick to comfort you. Telling you that there was no rush in taking things this far, but with a quick roll of your wet cunt against his hard cock, he ceased his words. Letting a growl erupt from his chest as he moved his cock against your pussy. “You’re a beast, y/n.” Positioning his manhood against your wet hole, slowly entering you. Just his tip felt massive enough, the tears that threatened to spill earlier, were full on leaking out of your eyes as you shut them.

Gasping loudly, making an inaudible noise as you felt his tip enter you tiny little opening. “Taking me in so well,”

“Pussy still tight after taking all three of my fingers, you’re a fucking whore.” He stilled his movements, pausing every once in a while as he was slowly hugged by your body. “Ha-ah,” you moaned as he pushed it in even further. “How are you this fucking big,” your manicured nails marred the flesh of his back, marking it with small little crescents. He ignored your remarks, instead he focused on how he’d possibly fit everything in you. You thought you’d be ripped in half when he first entered his third finger, however, at this point you were certain you’re literally split into two. His monstrous cock doing its’ best to intrude your virgin walls.

Inch after inch you felt your sanity being washed away from your body, for a split second you knew your soul lifted away. Your eyes rolling back as he continued to penetrate you with his massive manhood, tiny scars forming in his back from how hard you gripped him. His thumbs sinking on your hips in an attempt to keep you grounded as he pushed himself in. The only warning you got was a quick peck on your forehead before he pushed to the hilt. You yelled, back arching off of the comfortable mattress, your tears staining your cheeks. With the way his breathing became shaky, how his words would falter and the short pauses he took in order to process the idea of having him spear through you in its’ entirety, he was over the fucking moon.

Moving away from him in an attempt to ride him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the desperate actions you took just to get fucked. Pulling out until its’ just his tip before harshly slamming back down, knocking the air out of your lungs as you tried to form coherent sentences, before giving up halfway through and just yelling his name repeatedly. “Ruining your tight fucking cunt for everyone else,” his breathing was harsh, he came in raging inside of you. Harsh pain emerging from your pussy as you took your first and last cock, biting down on your lip as you tried to calm yourself down.

Pulling your perked up nipples before releasing them with a pop, adding more pleasure to the large intrusion in your walls. You couldn’t hear anything, the only thing you could process was the filthy sound your cunt made against his balls. The discernible wet noises, the way the bed creaked against the wall, the way he heaved on top of you, for a split second the two of you owned the world. His lips met yours, his gentle kiss was far different from his rigorous thrusts.

Just when you thought he couldn’t go any faster, he’d prove you wrong with the next. Marking your neck with more purple hues, making you completely his, giving an emphasis on every suck with a harsh thrust, ending it with a gentle kiss on your exposed flesh. You knew you were going to be sore the next day.

Assisting your legs, wrapping them around his waist, he felt your cunt clench around him. “You’re close aren’t you, your cunt clenching around me, refusing to let go of my cock.”

“You’re mine, y/n. No one can ever fuck you the same way as I do,” he growled against your ear as his pace started getting harsher. You couldn’t keep up with him, the next thing you knew you were a shaking mess before him. Coming undone and clenching him, making your pussy a lot more tighter. You tried to push him away, you had already come undone three times in one night, you didn’t know if you had the capacity to cum once more.

However, all you got out of him was an apology, pounding even harder with the added pressure of his thumb circling around your clit repeatedly. “Carving my dick inside of you, because you’re all mine,” You whined in protest, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. The pain of overstimulation taking over your entire body, you were all worn out.

Despite all the earlier attempts to push him off, at this point you had no energy left. So you took it all, growing far more needy for another gush of liquid in your cunt, yelling out gibberish as his pace slowly began to falter. Biting your lip, closing your eyes, you felt another tug in your stomach. As if your first orgasm had never ended, you were cumming, for the last time, hopefully.

“All. Fucking. Mine.” With each word he thrusted harder, you felt warm liquid painting your walls white as you choked out a sob. Clinging onto him as he gently pulled out. Meeting your eyes and gently wiping away your tears, jokingly slapping his arm afterwards. “The audacity you have, after doing it so roughly.” His gums appeared in front of you, the same gummy smile that made your heart bloom finally appearing once again.

He kissed your forehead before tucking you in bed, the sticky feeling from the sheets only making you wince. He stretched out his back before walking towards your bathroom, soon enough you heard the shower. Despite the icky and sick feeling of the sheets, you managed to take a 30-minute nap, only to be woken up by Yoongi gently blowing on your face. “Let’s go upstairs...” he whispered softly, pulling you up, as he wrapped your robe around you.

Carrying you as if you weighed nothing, as he walked around the house with nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. For the first time in months, you finally got to see how his bedroom looked like. You groaned in pain after he put you down against the grain of his marble counter. Grabbing a wash cloth and rubbing the damp towel all over your body, using warm water, finally cleaning up the mess he’s managed to make. Dressing you up in a pair of your own pyjamas he must’ve gotten earlier.

You clung onto him like a baby koala afterwards, forcing him to lay down with you in his bed. The scent of pine trees covered the silk sheets, accompanied by his favourite cologne from Paco Rabanne.

Just as if a year of separation hadn’t happened, you found your way clinging to his body the same way you did when the two of you had been dating. The small peck on top of your head was nothing unusual, the instinct of having his arm gently wrap around you after such a tiring day from work. Slowly, everything pieced itself. You wondered just how you lived through a year without him, how much you wished you’d spent it together.

He inhaled your scent, closing his eyes as he felt the satisfaction rushing in his veins. “I love you, y/n... so much, so, so, much.” He whispered against your ear, lips finding your temple as he gave you another kiss. Telling you how much he appreciated you, terrified that somehow the two of you would find your way back to the same place you ended up in, all alone and in desperate need of comfort from each other. Yoongi took his time to tell you all the sweet nothings he wished he told you before you separated.

By the end of the day, the two of you were just thankful you’d finally found your way back home.

#bts #bts smut #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts imagine #bts imagines #min yoongi smut #suga smut #agust d #agust d smut #min yoongi imagine #suga imagine #bts x reader #bts x you #yoongi imagine #arranged marriage #arranged marriage au #bts au

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accio-moony · 3 years

Text

Precedented Reputation || Remus Lupin x Reader SMUT

Request: Yes: {anon} What about a Remus smut where the reader is in a skirt and maybe has a hair pulling kink?

AN: They’re both 17 (legal age for wizards) Not Proof-read

Word Count: 3.7~k

Characters/Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader, James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans

Summary: [marauders era] You’ve been riled up all day, and take your opportunity while under the influence of firewhisky at a Gryffindor party.

WARNINGS: Underage drinking, public make out, unprotected sex, hair pulling, spanking, edging, slight cock warming, creampie

*not my gifs*

The loud chatter that fills the Gryffindor common room feels like it shakes your soul when combined with the thump of the music. It makes your head kind of fuzzy, but the Firewhisky in your hand can’t be helping with that either. Of course, like most Saturdays after a quidditch match, the Gryffindors would celebrate, whether they won, or even played, or not. Another excuse for the house to exude its rowdiness. Today is no exception, especially since they had won by more a good fifty points. Students are running around in every direction; every corner is filled with a group of friends or a couple. It is well past after hours for the castle, and this tower remains lit with excitement. If you pay enough attention, you would notice that there are a select few students who aren’t even a part of the Gryffindor house. Some students just can’t turn down the opportunity to get bashed by Firewhisky.

On the coffee table of the center group of couches stands Sirius Black, your boyfriend’s best friend. As Sirius rambles off some nonsense no one understands and dances around on the table, you lean your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder, taking in the scene. Admittedly, if it weren’t for the extra dose of courage your drink provides you, you wouldn’t be down here. Likely you would be off reading a book or studying. You don’t even usually drink, but your friends had coaxed you into it this time. It being your last year at Hogwarts, you don’t want to be the one to say they never attended any parties.

That aforementioned extra lot of courage has you excited in more ways than one, but you aren’t the type to just hop on your boyfriend in the middle of a crowded space, unlike many of the students filling the common room. Said excitement has also been in your gut all day, for what reason you don’t know, but the alcohol on your tongue was just gasoline to the fire. You’ve stayed by Remus’ side since supper was over and the lot of you left the Great Hall. You’ve kept your arms around him, occasionally squeezing his sides in hopes that he’ll get the intended nonverbal message. Though, as most days, he was unaware of your actions, simply playing it off as your regular affection.

You’ve been pushing your urges to the side all day, but they kept coming back. After dinner, just before the party had started, you disappeared upstairs to your dormitories with your room mates to get ready. The idea stroke you then that you should wear Remus’ favorite outfit of yours, and maybe then he’ll give you a reaction. Even with the denim skirt, the reaction he gave you when he saw you was insufficient. He merely bit his lip and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close and claiming you as his.

By now, Sirius has tripped off the coffee table and spilled his drink all down his and some poor girl’s shirt. Jading to you and many others, he has managed to play it off to is advantage as he snogs her on a near-by couch. As Remus talks to Peter about something unimportant, his arm still protectively wrapped around you, you look for the fourth marauder. You find him, sitting in a far corner practically swallowing his girlfriend, whom he had pined for since first year. Lily had rejected him so many times, and you’re still baffled by what changed her mind.

You think to yourself, if James can get his dream girl after six years of rejection, you can figure out how to get your boyfriend to take you to bed. It’s never been a problem for Sirius, and even though he has many characteristics you don’t, how hard could it be for just one person — the one person you’ve let have you before and that you’ve loved since you first spoke to him.

Even as the room is stocked with sweaty teenagers, Remus manages to still wear his usual many layers. It’s no surprise, given the tokens his ill-favored condition has left him to bare for all the years to come. You’ve never shunned him for his lycanthropy, loving him and all the baggage that comes with, as he does you.

As shrewdly as possible, you untuck Remus’ button down and sweater from his trousers. Being so preoccupied in his conversation with Peter, Remus doesn’t seem to notice, giving you the advantage. You hand you cup to some random student passing by you without a word, without even a glance, and you slide your cold hand under his button down, resting it on his flushed abs, all while turning in his arms so you’re comfortably facing him. The stark contrast in the temperature of your skin to his quickly seizes his attention as he tenses under your touch, his head whipping around as he looks down at you. The moment his eyes meet yours, he knows. He can see the need that he’s missed all day, but he decides to see how far you’ll go in such a public setting, the Firewhisky also having given him an extra ounce of courage. He lets out a breathy laugh as he relaxes under your touch, and he bends down slightly, only kissing the top of your head before turning back to talk to Peter, to your displeasure.

You huff, and before you can make a decision on how to proceed, or even if you should, you body speaks for itself as you move to stand between the two men, pushing Peter back as you face Remus. But you don’t just stand there expectingly. Your hands grab the sides of his face as you push up on your toes to get yourself closer to his height and pull his lips down onto yours in a feverish kiss. Though Remus was still playing snitch, not giving into the kiss as much as you wanted him to. You groan as your lips move across his jaw and up his neck to rest just under his ear, pulling him down by the neckline of his sweater with one hand, the other placed on his shoulder. Instinctively, his arm wraps around the small of your back, holding you close as he’s bent over to match your height. The hand one his sweater releases and slyly slides down his chest.

“Stop being an arsehole on purpose, Remus,” you breath, your breath hot as it fans over his ear. You let your hand finally reach its desired destination, gripping him over his trousers and finding him to be just as aroused as yourself. “Or neither of us will get what we want.” Your hand slides over his length, squeezing ever-so slightly.

Remus finally gives in to his act, his need to feel your lips overriding his intoxicated fantasy. His posture marginally straightens as he grabs your face with both of his hands, crashing his lips down onto yours in a hungry kiss, still full of passion. His left hand slide back from your cheek and his fingers lace into your hair. As his plan of action succeeds and he pulls your hair slightly, you gasp against his lips, and he’s able to force his tongue into your mouth to explore the familiar expanse. You moan when you feel his tongue press over your own, his other hand leaving your face and wrapping his right arm around your lower back, pulling you closer to him. His erection presses against your hip, and you can feel him throbbing behind the denim restraints. Remus feels your cold hands run up his sides from under his shirt, and he knows that if he doesn’t move you now, he may end up having to take you on the nearest open piece of furniture. His cock twitches slightly at the thought of everyone watching you, but he knows that no one gets to see you in your most vulnerable moments accept for him. He also doesn’t want that reputation to follow either of you through the last several months of school.

He pulls away from you completely, not even staying by your side but instead walking away from you. You’re left standing in the middle of the common room, eyes wide and mouth ajar as you try to process the fact of how suddenly your boyfriend left you in such an intimate moment. After the moments or two it takes to regather your composer, you spin around, searching the room to find where he could have gone. Along the perimeter of the room, against the back wall, you see him. Your eyes catch his expecting look as he motions up the stairs next to him, the stairs that lead to the boy’s dormitories. Again locked in your spot to comprehend the situation, you force your feet from their spot seemingly bolted to the rough carpet and quickly maneuver your way through the crowded room to the back wall.

You don’t stop when you reach him; you just wink at him with your lip between your teeth as you scurry up the spiral staircase. You feel him follow behind you, and once your around the first bend of the stairs, no longer able to be seen from the common room, you feel his hand fall down onto your ass roughly. You squeal and giggle as you bend over from the excitement, ascending the rest of the steps on all fours.

Behind you, Remus throbs painfully in his trousers when he sees your panties peak out from under your short skirt, when he sees the wet mark adorning them. He growls perforce as he wraps his strong arms around you, easily picking you up as you giggle and carrying you the rest of the way to his dorm. Once in his room, he puts you down, not letting go until he’s sure you’ve got your balance, and his foot kicks the door closed behind him.

“Colloportus,” he mumbles as he pulls his wand from his pocket and lazily points it at the door, locking it before throwing his wand down on his bedside table.

“Muffliato,” you cast your own spell, still giggling from the excitement as you blindly walk backwards until the back of your knees hit the edge of Remus’ bed. You sit down, breathing heavily as you watch as your boyfriend quickly removes his belt, throwing it on the floor somewhere meaningless to you both in the moment.

Remus kicks his trainers off easily, then hurriedly removes his socks as he stumbles closer to you. You follow his lead and slip your flats off your feet, discarding them behind you with a heavy thunk. Once his socks are on the floor to be forgotten, Remus strides over to where you sit on his bed, graying your face in his right hand as he reconnects your mouths in a passionate kiss. His free hand quickly tugs the hem of your sweater from your skirt so he can slide it underneath, cupping your plump breasts over your bra, squeezing roughly. You moan at the feeling, releasing his mouth as your hands stealthily remove his own sweater, quickly pulling it over his head and getting to work on undoing his button down, his last layer. He stands up straight, something he usually doesn’t do, but seeing your nimble fingers working over the buttons of his shirt as you look up at him will love-blown eyes boosts his confidence. His fingers slide through your soft hair as he watches you finish with the last several buttons, his eyes full of lust.

When you’ve released the final button on his white chemise, you don’t push it off his shoulders, instead enjoying how it hangs open, his tan chest exposed to you. Unable to resist, you begin kissing over the span of his chest, taking a moment here and there to suck your mark into his chest. As you do so, you gradually stand up, kissing up the length of his torso on the way. Once you’ve stood up straight and left one last purple bruise on his neck, just above where his collar sits, you step back, holding the intimate eye contact as you guide his hands to pull your sweater over your head, revealing your lace-clad tits to your boyfriend. You smirk as his eyes fall from yours and onto your cleavage once it’s revealed.

He grabs them in his large hands, squeezing roughly as he drives his lips back onto yours, forcing your mouth open again to accept his tongue. He only kisses you for a moment, his member painfully rubbing against the denim of his trousers, begging to be released from the confinement. “I bet you’re ready for me aren’t you?” He smirks against your lips before attaching them again. “You’re so needy and desperate for me to fuck you, huh?”

“Yes, Remus,” you moan at his words. “Please. I’m ready.”

“Good girl,” he groans as he spins you around, strenuously pushing you down face first onto his bed, you ass towards him. In one swift movement, Remus pushes your skirt up, bunching it at your waist and quickly rips your panties down your legs, leaving your slick heat bare to him. “Fuck,” he mutter as he takes a step back, admiring your swollen lips as he unzips his pants, pushing them down with his boxers just enough to get himself free. “You’re so wet, baby.”

You quickly grow impatient, needing to be touched, to be satisfied, and you slide your hand between your legs, rubbing your fingers through your wet folds and spreading your arousal around your core. All to Remus’ displeasure, as he grabs both of your wrists, easily restricting them behind your back in his right hand alone. His other hand grabs his thick cock at the base, rubbing his head through your folds to soak himself in your arousal, pressing it against your clit, smacking it against you several times.

He guides himself to your begging hole, pushing just the swollen tip into you before letting go of himself. His now free hand wraps in your hair, pulling it as he thrusts into you, bottoming out in one quick movement. He moans at the feeling of your velvet walls tight around his member, and you cry out from the contentment of being filled so perfectly in an abrupt moment. Your walls clench around him, not wanting him to leave as you feel complete, but your hips have a mind of their own as you push back against him, still needy and impatient.

Remus’ right hand releases your wrists, letting you have them back to brace yourself against the mattress. Instead his hand comes down over your ass before holding your hips still. Your yelp in surprise of the pleasurable sting quickly slides into a moan.

“You’ve gotta learn to be more patient, love,” Remus’ low voice calls from behind you just as he pulls back, almost out before ramming himself back in again, forcing against that spot inside you. You cry out his name, whining and panting with every harsh thrust he gives you, each thrust accompanied by a blow to your cheeks.

Your ass quickly glows red, leaving Remus satisfied with his visible handprint. His soft hands smooth over your plump flesh, squeezing as he relishes in the feeling of having his hands full of you. His reputation of quiet book-boy is one he’s okay with. You and him alone know this passionate side that comes out in the bedroom. And he knows how you try to bring it out of him outside of privacy, like you had tried only moments ago, successfully he might add. He doesn’t know, or really care for that matter, who saw it. You make him the most comfortable he has ever been.

He pulls your hair harder and you moan at the tension, his cock twitching inside you at the sound. “Up, baby,” he commands, and your shaky arms fight to push yourself up. His right hand leaves its hold on your ass to help you up so that your back is pressed and arching against his firm chest. His hand slides your bra strap off your shoulder, leaving him room to leave his mark on you, then slides down your stomach and between your thighs, rubbing rough circles against your clit.

You moan out, wildly pleasured by the way he knows you so well. Your hand reaches behind you, grabbing the back of his neck and holding him closer to you as the coil tightens within you. You think he’s going to let you fall apart, but he notices the way your walls are tightening and fluttering around him, and he pulls out, leaving just an inch or so in you as his finger leave your mound.

“Remus,” you whine, feeling empty, and when he takes too long, bring it upon yourself to do the work, pushing yourself pack and forth on his rock-hard cock. Your hands leave his neck, grabbing behind you to hold onto his sides, your finger nails digging into his already scarred flesh.

You feel that coil reform in your gut, knowing you only need a little more. But Remus seems to know your body better than you do, and he stops you, pulling away from you completely with a dark chuckle.

“Fuck you,” you pant as he steps away from you.

“Isn’t that what you’re trying to do?” He smirks as he sits himself on his bed, his head leaned back into his pillow.

You groan and turn to him, easily straddling his hips as he spreads his legs, giving you a wider base. “It’s what I am doing,” you try to taunt him, but you panting and breathlessness, your messy hair, it all makes you seem so desperate for him. And you are, you have been all day. Not wanting to wait any longer, you immediately sink back down on him, his length reaching a whole new level within you and your high pitched moan thrills him. His hands slide behind your back, unclipping your bra and pulling it down your arms. His hands fill with your breasts as you starts lightly sucking on your nipples, your back arching and forcing more of you into his mouth.

Though soon, as he feels himself getting ever closer, his hands drop your breasts, one sliding back into your hair and the other lay on your lower back to guide you as you rock your hips against him. His hand in your hair pulls back, exposing the column of your throat to him on which he leaves numerous bruises from the force of his mouth on you.

“Remmy,” you whine, barely able to form coherent words. “I-I’m so cl-close. Please.”

He takes your warning, falling away from you and back onto his pillow as his hands hold your hips above his over. He starts pounding up into you at a relentless speed and your hand falls to your clit, pushing yourself over that edge.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan loudly as your orgasm washes over you. Your walls create a vice on him, squeezing and gushing your hot fluid over him. Your legs shake violently as you call out his name, collapsing forward onto his chest.

The force of your orgasm makes Remus cum, bucking his hips up into you, involuntarily jerking them as he stills, buried to the hilt within you as his balls tighten. Thick ropes of his hot sum paint your insides as he holds you against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. “Fuck, princess,” he moans into your ear, his hips moving slightly to work the last of him into you, though quickly fall to the bed as he relaxes in exhaustion.

He stays inside you for a moment longer, still impossibly hard, then flips you both over before slowly pulling out of you. He groans as his swollen cock leaves the warmth of your cunt, and you quietly whine at the loss, your voice barely returning after having cum so loud.

He grabs his wand and mutters a spell, one you can’t hear over the white noise of the aftershock. You feel him remove your skirt the rest of the way, and then presumably his own pants, pulling his boxers back up and softly tucking his sensitive member back into them. He finds your panties from the floor, then decides that you need fresh ones. He stumbles over to his trunk in exhaustion and pulls out the extra pair of panties you’ve left in his room for such occasions and a plain black t-shirt for you to put on incase his roommate return unexpectedly.

He helps you into the shirt as he kneels in front of you on his bed, then carefully guides you back onto the pillow. “Are you okay, baby?” He asks, concern flooding his voice. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” you mutter, a lazy smile playing at your lips. “That was… oh, Merlin, I can’t even put it into words. You’ve no idea how badly I needed that, Rem.”

He smiles as he lays with his hips between your thighs, pushing the t-shirt up over your breasts. “I love you, Y/n,” he says softly before his lips wrap around your nipple. You moan softly and arch your back again.

“What’re you doing that for now, Remmy?” You whine.

“They didn’t get the attention they deserve,” he explains as if it were the most obvious explanation and you laugh. The laugh quickly subsides into a moan as his teeth graze over your nipple, releasing it with a satisfying pop before moving to leave more hicks over your chest.

“If you don’t stop that now,” you pant, still breathless from your excursion, but your breath being stolen from you again. “I’ll need to ride you again, Remus.”

He hums against your skin before pushing up onto his arms. “I have no complaints there,” he smiles as he places a soft kiss to your lips.

#hogwarts #the wizarding world #wizarding world #Harry Potter #JK Rowling #JKR #the marauders #the marauders era #Marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #moony #Andrew garfield #Andrew Garfield remus lupin

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ridiasfangirlings · 2 years

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After they reconcile, Saruhiko is devastatingly in love with Misaki. He can't say it, of course-- he just doesn't have the words. If he did, then they would've never landed in that whole mess in the first place-- so he tries to say it with his actions and hopes it's enough.

Misaki grows his hair out, and Saru starts carrying hairbands on his wrists. Misaki is tired after a long day of work, and Saru tucks him into bed. Misaki breaks his skateboard, and Saru gets it fixed because Misaki is too busy.

Saru hopes it's enough-- but, Yata is awfully dense. What does Fushimi do then?

Imagine Yata thinking that isn’t it nice how Saruhiko’s doing so much to be friendly with him and convincing himself that’s all it is, even as Fushimi’s trying so hard to say ‘I love you’ without words. Like post-ROK Fushimi is well aware that he’s desperately in love with Misaki and always has been but then at the same time he can’t say it — the words ‘I love you’ have never come to him easily and after all he’s messed up he can’t bring himself to speak it out loud, not when he could say something wrong and ruin everything again. When Yata suggests they start living together again Fushimi agrees and decides if he can’t tell Yata how he feels maybe he can show it (which is equally difficult in its own way, because showing love has always been hard for him as well, he doesn’t entirely know how to do it). Fushimi knows he promised to say things to Yata but this is the one thing he can’t say, the thing that could ruin everything, so he just finds his own awkward ways to show his affection and hopes one day Yata will notice.

So Fushimi starts doing things that don’t come easily to him. He learns to cook, as best he can, so on the days he gets off work before Yata he can be the one with dinner waiting. When Yata’s tired after work Fushimi helps him to bed and does the evening cleaning, telling Yata not to worry and he can handle it. He carries hair bands for Yata’s hair, he fixes Yata’s skateboard without needing to be asked, he takes Yata’s watch while Yata’s sleeping and updates the system with a bunch of nifty extras. He goes to Yata’s skateboard tournaments even though he hates crowds, and cheers as loud as anyone even though he hates raising his voice and drawing attention to himself. He fumbles around trying to be loving and kind and all the things that don’t come to him naturally, and hopes Misaki notices.

Except at some point Fushimi starts to wonder if he’s fooling himself, if Yata’s really this dense or is it just that Yata doesn’t feel the same way and is deliberately ignoring everything so he doesn’t have to break Fushimi’s heart. I could see Fushimi slowly becoming more and more convinced that the latter is true, feeling like clearly the problem here must be him because isn’t it always, and even though he loves Yata he starts showing that less and less because he’s sure Misaki must be tired of Fushimi pathetically pursuing something that’s never going to happen. Yata notices the turn in Fushimi’s mood and becomes concerned and imagine it turns into something of a fight, Fushimi frustrated that Yata won’t just reject him and get it over with and Yata completely baffled as to why Fushimi’s so upset. And finally Fushimi snaps out that he’s been trying to show Yata how much Fushimi loves him all this time and Yata looks momentary shocked before just grabbing him and pulling him into this fierce hug all “You dummy, didn’t you promise to say things in a way an idiot could understand? If you never say ‘I love you’ how am I gonna get to say ‘I love you too’?”

#sarumi #Talking K #ahh heartbreak good times #imagine Fushimi trying so hard to be nice #having no idea if he's doing it right #not sure if Misaki is noticing at all #just flailing about trying to figure out how you Relationship

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sorryimanon · 4 years

Text

Character: Katsuki Bakugou

Parings: Bakugou x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, characters are in their third year.

Word Count: 5.4K

The two honor students of UA so happen to be childhood enemies. During the succession that is exams, Y/N is determined to beat Bakugou.

Exam season has commenced on the campus of U.A. Students woke up in a frenzied state, slightly nervous to the late night studying they’ll endure for the weeks to come. Not enough caffeine can energize them to be in complete motivation mode. A couple of students have taken the leisure of paying those to exchange notes, considering most of the questions will be going over every little detail in each subject. The exams don’t begin till next week, but a few of the honor students have already hit the books, not once indulging in a break or two till the sun sets. One of those students just so happen to be you, an inspiring young hero with the hunger for being on top of everything. Ever since middle school, teachers would constantly praise you on your performance during tests. It was no surprise to anyone when you aced the entrance exam to U.A, a remarkable score leading you closer to reaching your dream. Although your scores on every test was superb, someone else would occasionally steal the spotlight with by topping your score. That person in particular has been tailing behind you ever since middle school, another honor student who also attends U.A as well. Did you mention he also is in the same hero course as you?

Katsuki Bakugou is his name. A name that burns the tip of your tongue whenever you gave roll call alongside Iida. The man is a ball of pure fury. He exuded nothing but anger and hostility whenever he’s in a room. Despite his aggressive exterior, Katsuki is an avid academic student who manages to score excellent grades in each of his classes. For the past 3 years of attending U.A, you two are considered the star studded scholars, never once failing a test, midterm, pop quiz , you name it! Now with your hero course almost coming to an end, you were determined to at least score the highest result this exam season, leaving Bakugou in the dust with his inadequate score. Maybe have him crying in the corner would suffice the drawn out rivalry you two established. No one verbally said it was an all out war between you two, but everytime those test results are posted on the board, everyone steered clear for the both of you to silently react. Everyone awaits for the day when one of you finally snaps and start clawing at each other. But alas, only the mere exchange of a side eye and a curt nod. Deep down you do want to slap the smirk that always resides on his face during those moments, showing him you weren’t just going to let him win by smarts.

That’s why now you sit alone on the cushioned couch in the commons area, books sprawled around you like a protective barrier. You had your eyes glued to a textbook about the history of quirks and their physiology, a class in which you needed to spend studying the most for. It’s been a a few hours into your little study session, and you were beginning to feel the drag of how much you needed to actually work on. All this including your current homework and your mandatory internship studies at an agency. It was all too much to handle. So, maybe you do deserve a break.

Pushing the book aside, you stretched out your cramped up arms and sigh in relief. In the corner of your eye you spot a familiar head of ashy blonde walking into the commons room, books and notebooks crammed into his armpit while holding what seems to be an energy drink. Your eye twitched watching him plop down onto the couch across from you, never once paying attention to your presence. Katsuki then rests his bare feet on the wooden coffee table, opening one of his textbooks with the swipe of his thump. For some odd reason, this really riled you up. And it was clear Katsuki noticed too.

“Am I bothering you? Hm?” He smugly asked, eyes not wavering from the text before him.

You scoffed.

“No. Just, don’t speak while I’m trying to study okay?”

He clicked his tongue at you.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re studying to me. Looks like you’ve given up already. What gives?”

His comment made you even angrier.

“Given up? Kacchan, you’ve barely started.”

Looking up, you can see a faint vein forming against the temple of his forehead. His fists clenched tightly, crumpling the sides of the textbook. His eyes now were averted to yours. The crimson death glare, you’d call it.

“I was training with Kirishima, dumbass. So of course I couldn’t hop onto my studies earlier,” he started. Katsuki opens his energy drink with one finger, the pop of the air leaving the can satisfying to your ears, and took a swing of it. “Also, don’t ever fucking call me that. If I hear it from your mouth again I won’t hesitate to use my quirk on you.”

An intriguing idea. Usually you’d be the one to threaten your enemy, but Katsuki like always beat you to the punch.

“No thanks, I’d rather be harassed by grape juice than be blasted from the likes of you,” the taunt in your voice triggered something within Katsuki, causing him to tense up in pure anger. “Besides, I’m planning on studying all day till my eyes fall out. So don’t expect me to leave this spot.”

His smirk was soon on full display, uncrossing his legs to lean forward so he can rest his elbow on his knee.

“Oh really? Just so you know we have an early training tomorrow in preparation for our final exam. Wouldn’t want ya to, cha know, fail?” He didn’t even sound slightly concern for yourself and your future study habits, you can tell he wishes for you to fuck up your sleeping schedule to miss the important training in the morning.

“I have an alarm set on my phone so I don’t miss my beauty rest. Wouldn’t want to pass up the opportunity of kicking your ass tomorrow,” you held your mobile device triumphantly, waving it back and forth to mock him.

With the roll of his eyes, Katsuki returned back to his studies, leaving you to sadly resume as well. Before he entered the commons area, you were about to head into your dorm room to take a nap, but now you were obligated to stay put without letting him think you’re already burnt out.

Silently, you both continued on with the unspoken competition.

Evening struck quicker than you expected, cascading the soft glow of the painted sky through the windows, illuminating both you Katsuki in a pink hue. Thankfully, Katsuki took your words into consideration and never spoke to you during the session, giving you an easy feeling of relaxation without him making it another competition.

Already you finished your notes for advance foreign language, quirk physiology, and mathematics. So far, you were ahead of everyone else, with the exception of Katsuki. Occasionally, you’d catch yourself glancing over at him working intensively in his small corner, highlighting and jotting down every minuscule detail in his notebook. This was your first time witnessing how Katsuki studies. To your disappointment, his regime was nothing out of the ordinary. Then how the fuck does he manage to score high grades? It simply baffled you.

A stampede of footsteps was to be heard coming from the hallway leading to the commons area. After what seems to be years, you cranked your head away from your notebook to see Kirishima and the rest of the gang marching towards the direction of both you and Katsuki, who was currently shooting daggers at the group of friends. The red head was the first to speak out of the four of them.

“Aye Bakubro! Wanna skip the studying for a little and eat with us at NoodleShop?” His smile gleamed brightly, showcasing his shark incisors.

“Y/N you too! Come join us. I’ll pay!” Mina chimed in.

Noodles sounded pretty appetizing right about now. You skipped out on lunch, too engrossed on the idea of getting a head start for the exams. Now you regret the decision of leaving your stomach on empty.

But you still had so much left to do. And knowing Katsuki’s competitive nature, he wasn’t going to move an inch from his spot.

“It’s okay Mina, I uh- already ate a big meal awhile ago,” you dismissed her, patting your belly to show you were indeed, full.

As if on cue, a loud growl erupted from the depths of your stomach, the noise reverberating across the soundless space. Denki and Sero both snickered.

To your amazement, Katsuki got up from the couch and trailed over to the group, slipping on his red hoodie that was draped on the arm rest. He took a quick glimpse at you and smirked over his shoulder.

“Watch my things for me will ya, extra?” And with that they all left the area as a group.

You huffed in defeat and stared back at your jumbled pile of notes, the writing transcending from neat to sloppy text. At least you don’t have an explosive blonde sharing the same air as you for now. You reached into your bag and grabbed another textbook, this one being more heftier than the others.

“Oh well, more time for studying...” you said to yourself as you skimmed through the pages of Hero First Aid: Volume 6.

The beautiful spring sky soon was replaced by the expanse of darkness, the twinkle of the bright stars catching your eyes. The moon alone helped cast a sheen of light, allowing you to work in the dimly lit up space. Bakugou didn’t return to retrieve his stuff, all of which were sat untouched in a hasty mess. You figure him and the rest of the gang would have been back on campus by now, but everyone in class 1-A have locked themselves in their dorms since lights out will commence in a few. Aizawa has yet to prohibit you from staying past the curfew. As long as you don’t go running among the halls like a lunatic and stay strictly to studying, he’s all game. And that’s exactly what you did.

A couple of students murmured as they passed by you, saying things like “Does she ever have a life” or “All she does is study...no wonder no one has asked her out yet”. As much as the comments sting, you knew they weren’t true to your heart. Last year, someone in class 2-B formally asked you to the dance. To their dismay, you rejected them on the spot. Only because you didn’t have time to date or talk romantically with anyone. It’s a distraction to both your education and future career.

Okay, so maybe they were partially correct. At least you had your first kiss before entering U.A? But the person who stole your kiss was obligated to do so, after being dared by their fellow acquaintances. Nothing more beyond that have you explored with another person.

Submerged in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the presence of the angry blonde, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie as he strolled to the couch that had all his materials. He began to gather his things when suddenly he freezes, remembering what you said about not moving an inch from your spot. He’s astonished to see you cemented on the same couch, in the same position, notes blanketing your thighs along with the pile books pooling at the edge.

You really are determined to beat him, he thought. Bakugou can’t deny he’s impressed with your ambition and drive to be the best among your peers, even if that means sacrificing basic human needs. Like food and sleep.

Although, looking at you right now in this state, with your eyes threatening to close shut, mouth slightly agape, and hair bunched up in a tight knot, it’s clear you were exhausted. He spoke without realizing it.

“Hey dumbass! The fuck you still doing here, huh? It’s almost lights out.”

His brooding voice startled you awake, causing the papers on your lap to spill on the carpeted floor. Bakugou coughed out a low chuckle, amused by how the mere sound of his voice scares you.

“Oh it’s just you,” you said, disregarding how that could easily irritate him.

“Yeah, it’s me. Anyway you should be getting rest. You’re smart enough to know that, idiot.”

Even though it was a subtle backhanded compliment, you couldn’t help but to appreciate him acknowledging your intellect.

“I can’t. I have to go over my flash cards for mathematics and then finish this week’s homework for tomorrow—.”

“Holy fucking shit shut up. Don’t you realize what you’re doing to yourself right now?” When you didn’t answer, Bakugou slapped his forehead. “You’re gonna burn yourself out dumbass! Then you won’t have any motivation left to study for when the exams are actually starting.”

Stunned, you watch as Bakugou stomps over to where you’re sitting at, crimson eyes never leaving yours. He then props his leg on the cushion next to your trembling thighs, out stretching his arm to grab ahold of something. Too focused on the proximity between you two, it didn’t register that he swiped your flash cards from your hands. What is wrong with him? Does he want to sabotage you this badly before exams?

“Bakugou! Give those back! I need them for my exam on Monday!” you ignored how whiny you sounded, not wanting to give Katsuki the satisfaction he thinks he deserves.

“You really think whining like a bitch will make me hand these over? Think again, dumb-.”

You cut him off with a surprise attack, shoving his entire body to the ground with the force of yours. Bakugou’s arms were pinned above him as you tried to pry the flash cards from his death grip on them. Stubbornly, he wiggles his body to keep you from reaching his arms, almost knocking you off his torso like a bull. Looking down, both of you were in a compromising position. Straddling his hips while he laid lifelessly underneath you, panting like a feral dog. You tried to keep the heat from spreading throughout your body as you felt his groin rub against your sex, but failed tremendously when he can obviously see the prominent blush creeping on your cheeks.

“What the fuck was that all about?! Why are you so adamant about beating me so much!” He yelled directly in your face.

A question that neither of you knew the answer to. Why were you so determined to destroy Bakugou? Shouldn’t a fellow honor student be happy that another is also making their education a main priority? Or maybe there is another underlying reason, something deeper under the dermis of your skin that you couldn’t quite reach.

You further the distance away from his face by leaning backwards, eventually hitting the front of his thighs and kneecaps.

“You don’t understand. I have to be good at everything. I need this in order to be the hero I’ve been wanting to be. Even if that means neglecting my own needs...” you paused, unsure if Bakugou was even listening anymore. “That is, until you came along and ruined everything.”

“Hah?!” His reaction was incredulous.

“Don’t “Hah” me! It’s been your plan all along since middle school to top me at everything. So why me?!”

“Well maybe it’s because I’ve always looked up to you dumbass! Have you ever considered that!”

The words tumbled out of his throat as if he’s been holding off on the sentiment. Bakugou Katsuki, the abrasive yet studious boy, just so happens to admire you? Never it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, you also strived to be the absolute best solely because of him. The way he strides into a battle with confidence, not an ounce of doubt that he’ll lose. His diabolical strategies that somehow works out in the end. Or the way how underneath that rough exterior, he believes he’ll be the one left climbing to the top, along with his peers. It’s his sticky pride that kept the rivalry between you two so alive. But was it really a rivalry after all this time?

Eyes widen at the confession, you stay frozen on his lap, fingers bunching up the top half of his hoodie. The silence broke Katsuki. For once, he wanted you to at least admit it, that you were also in the same boat as he is right now. So, he hesitantly reaches out and rests his palm against your flushed face, basking in at your sudden reaction to him touching you.

“Why does everything have to be a competition between us?” His soft spoken voice was uncharacteristic for him, you were so used to his gravelly tone after years of being the victim to it.

You felt the traces of his warm finger tips tickling lines on your outer cheek, as if he’s done this before.

“Isn’t that our dynamic? Competitive enemies?” The comment made him quirk an eyebrow at you.

“Enemies? You were never one in my eyes in the first place...” He trailed off, getting distracted by how close you’ve gotten to his face. To his lips.

“Then, what am I to you?” you leaned in closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of something in his eyes. You took notice that his pupils were dilated, making his eyes darker than usual. The hand rubbing lines on your cheek snaked around behind your head, taking full comfort on the base of your neck. The feeling was quite foreign to you. How long you yearned till days on end for someone to touch you tenderly like this. Especially from someone like Katsuki Bakugou.

“Does this answer your question.” Was all he said before smashing his lips to mount yours, the sudden contact making you shiver in his arms.

You felt him breathe out in surprise against your mouth when you took the initiative by swiping your tongue on his bottom lip. The kiss was exquisitely slow and intense. So intense that Bakugou forgot where he even was at the moment, too engulfed at the texture of your tongue asking for entrance. The fingers digging into the back of your neck started to hurt, but you didn’t mind the pain, the pleasure overwhelming all your senses. You can hear the harsh undertones of his breathing every time you slightly moved the lower half of your body.

“Stop moving, idiot,” he said breathlessly.

He knew he was fucked by seeing the smirk forming on your lips.

“Oh, you mean like this?” You then grind your hips in a harsh motion, relishing in the bashful look on Katsuki’s face.

He let his hands go freely, attaching themselves on both sides of your hips, grounding you to stop altogether. He sat in an upright position, encasing you between his legs and hard chest, your legs wrapping around his torso. Any other time it’d be comforting, but right now you felt like a bird trapped in a cage.

“Who knew the good girl would be so disobedient? Kind of hot not gonna lie.” He bent his head to where it was directly hovering over the sensitive spot on your collarbone. “Even when we’re just making out, you have to make everything a goddamn competition huh?”

A gasp left your throat once his tongue licked a clean strip on the surface. He chuckled, loving the feeling of you squirming in his muscular arms and continued the attack on your skin. His feather-like kisses switched to full on feverish sucking and biting. He proceeded to suck on the area, letting go with a definite ‘pop’, then returned back by making out on the bruised skin.

The combination of his tongue, the death grip on your hip, and the bulge protruding from his loose sweatpants was too much stimulation already. Before you knew it, Katsuki abruptly stood up from the floor, along with you, and placed you back on the plush couch. Your legs were wide open, giving him a good view of your white panties beneath the school skirt. You clamped your legs together after seeing the blonde lick his lips at the sight.

“D-Don’t be such a pervert,” you squeaked out.

That didn’t stop him from slipping his hand in between the crack of your legs, spreading them wider than before.

“Stop lying to yourself. You’ve imagined me between these thighs haven’t you?” The silence following his question was enough to suffice him. “Such a naughty girl.” Those crimson eyes stared straight ahead as he tugged your panties down a notch.

Here?! Right now? Why couldn’t he reside both of you in his dorm? It was literally at the end of the hallway. Plus, the thought of your teacher, Aizawa, catching you would be mortifying.

Your hand quickly latched itself around Katsuki’s forearm, halting him from proceeding his lustrous actions.

“What are you doing?! We could get caught you idiot!”

Katsuki grins and says, “You’re right. We need to find a way to shut you up.” Without preamble, he practically ripped the thin panties with sheer ferocity, causing you to yelp. You were about to scold him for ruining your favorite pair when said panties got shoved into your open mouth. “Remember, don’t want to get us caught right? Now be the good girl like you are and stay quiet for me.” Obediently you nodded at his order and prayed that whatever he’s going to do to you won’t be too much.

Katsuki hummed, obviously pleased at how well you’re going along with this. He wonders how far you’ll go till you break. With the swipe of his tongue, Katsuki dragged it up and down on the opening of your drenched sex. You mewled at the new sensation, legs already trembling as he his own salvia covered your folds. He bit and nibbled on the sweet spot, the clit, and lapped a few lazy strokes with his pointer finger in circular motions. Before you could stop him, he inserted the lubricant finger into your hole slowly, pumping it a couple of times to get you loosened up. Muffled moans perked up the ears of Katsuki. Looking up, he saw the beautiful sight of your eyes rolled behind your head along with the familiar tint of red on your cheeks. Just like the secretive slut you truly are, you swayed your hips to create more friction. Katsuki acknowledged your needy movements and dipped his head between your legs again, returning back to kissing your sex open mouthed. The lewd noises of him sucking on your wetness elicited a long drawn out moan from you, making Katsuki’s own cock twitch at the glorious sound.

“You’re so fucking cute like this. Almost coming from just my tongue and fingers. Fucking slut,” he said between suctions. “God, what were we thinking...we could’ve just resolved our issues like this every time.”

You grabbed a handful of his spiked up hair and raised his head away from your lower region. While doing so, you spit out the soaked clothed panty from your mouth, letting it drift off to the floor.

“Just s-shut up and do something about m-me,” you manage to croak out. You flicked your eyes on Katsuki and to the hand buried inside your skirt.

“Ah, want more than just my fingers? Could’ve just said so. Why are you being so quiet with your needy demands, babe?”

This newfound nickname plucked a heart sting within you. You shook off his snarky comment and stood up from the couch. If it’s a competition he wants, then it’s a competition he’ll get.

“Take off your pants and sit on the couch.”

Craning his head back, his own roar of a laughter bounced across the quiet room. Laughter dying down, his expression changed seeing how serious you actually were.

“Tch. Whatever you say dumbass. Don’t want you to explode on me now.”

He did as you said and removed the article of clothing, leaving him in nothing but his red boxer briefs. The bulge grew bigger the longer you stared at it. He laid back on the plush cushion and rested his arms behind his head.

“Alright, I’m waiting Y/N,” he taunted you.

One by one, you unbutton your school uniform and let it fall off your shoulders, along with your plaid skirt pooling at your ankles. Arms crossed on your chest you tower over Katsuki, who was surprisingly not staring at your goods, but your eyes. Beckoning you forward with his glare, you straddle him immediately, hands resting on his broad shoulders.

My, all these years of being in the same class and never once did you take advantage of appreciating how chiseled he looked in his hero costume. Sometimes you’d glance his way or pretend to be busy, but really, you wanted to see him in action. The way how his muscles would contract with each swing or punch. It was enough to make a girl swoon. Now you were swooning for sure. On his lap to be precise.

“Oi, you gonna do something nerd? My cock isn’t going to finish off itself.” His voice snapped you back to reality.

It took a few minutes, but you were finally hovering over the tip of his throbbing member, the glistening of his pre-cum coating your fingers. You teased him by rubbing just the tip against your entrance, lubricating the member even more. He tried to muffle his whines, but failed tremendously after feeling his tip graze your sex. Both of you were heavily now, anticipation radiating off of your sweaty bodies. Tenderly, you kissed him open mouth while sheathing yourself on his cock.

“Holy shit, holy fuck fuck fuck,” the vulgar words spilled from his mouth against yours as you bottomed out. You stayed in that position. Still unsure what to do and what you got yourself into. Pretty sure you’re torturing Katsuki by the minute.

“F-Fucking move," He growled in your ear.

Leaning in closer you whisper, “You have to beg for it then.” You nibbled the loose skin on the bottom of his ear and tugged it gently.

“Hell no! God-fucking-damnit don’t make this a competition right now Y/N.” The palm of his abnormally large hand pushed your face away from his. You giggled.

“C’mon Bakugou, there’s no harm in it. Just say please?”

“Fuck you shitty woman...”

“That’s not begging,” you pouted.

He pursed his lips. Bakugou admittedly is getting more turned on by the minute, and not just because you were practically inside him.

“P-Please fucking move. I w-want you to fuck me so bad you have no idea. Please Y/N...”

Smiling, you raised your hips to where the veins on the side of his member scraped the walls within you. It made your cunt twitch in pure ecstasy. Slowly, you lowered yourself back down, only this time you weren’t stagnant. You repeated the same vertical movements, clashing your hips with his. Bakugou titled his head back on the couch, degrading sentiments leaving his mouth as his hands grasped the sweaty flesh of your ass, squeezing it harshly every time you bounced on his dick. The tip of his member taking your breath away as it prodded the spongy walls.

“Yes- oh fuck yes. Ngh, keep doing that. Yeah like that. Hah-fuck, don’t stop,” he said between the constant panting.

Due to your rapid bouncing, your boobs were flailing in the air, occasionally hitting Bakugou in the face. Katsuki took matters into his own hands and latched his mouth around one of your perked nipples. You squealed at the sudden sensation.

“B-Bakugou...don’t do that...it’ll make me come faster,” you moaned as he grazed his teeth on your taut nipple.

For revenge, he tugged back the areola till it reached a few centimeters from your chest. Painful yes, but you couldn’t deny it felt amazing. He quickly let go and returned to sucking on the tit, lathering it up with his own spit. All the while you were riding him till the muscles and tendons in your legs gave out. Steadying your hands on his shoulders, you grounded on your knees to give yourself a better leverage. Feeling touch starved, Bakugou shoved your hands from his shoulders and laced his fingers between them. Like a missing puzzle piece, you fit in perfectly with him. Everything about you was perfection. You defined it. Sitting here watching as you take him well, physically or not, he was completely enamored by the mere sight of you. He craned his head to brush just the tip of your nose. A nose he unmistakably mentally captured because he loved the feature so much.

Although, he couldn’t think straight after that once you bottomed out again and rolled your hips in tune to his panting. You made a mess out of the aggressive blonde. Each time you swayed your body to the side he’d grunt out a low moan, trying to contain his usual loud profanities from waking up your classmates. Bakugou reached down and teasingly rubbed the sensitive bud, getting revenge for all the times you’ve pissed him off. Under your breath, you moaned out his last name.

“Say my name,” he grunted, hands continuing to expertly work on you from below.

Confused, you obeyed and moaned, “Bakugou!”

Suddenly, a painful sting sparked throughout your lower back. Eyes glued shut due to the searing pain, you whimper feeling a calloused hand smooth over the spot on your ass.

Katsuki spanked you. And you liked it.

“My actual name, dumbass. I wanna hear it coming from your mouth.”

With a thrust, you continue moving up and down on his cock, never once missing a beat.

“K-...Katsuki. Katsuki-Katsuki...” his name sounded ethereal, as if he was a higher being.

Katsuki returned the favor and fisted your hair in a tight knot, your scalp screaming at how harsh he was pulling.

“That’s a good girl.”

With a playful slap to your behind, Katsuki roughly shoves you to mount his lips again. Lips parted, both of your tongues twisted against each other, sharing a decent amount of saliva. He slipped out and pecked your lips a few times before biting down on your bottom lip. It didn’t hurt like all the times he inflicted pain on you previously. But this time you swore you felt the trickle of blood trailing down to your chin. The coppery taste infiltrating your taste buds only increased your arousal. What a masochist.

Bakugou noticed the pacing of your movements decreasing, indicating you are already feeling worn out, and steadied his hands onto your hips.

“Just let me do the work here, dumbass,” he said as he thrusted sharply into your womb, causing you to whimper into his neck. “I’ll take good care of you. You deserve a break from studying after all.”

You woke up feeling dizzy and fatigued, body aching from your toes to your head. From what you can remember, you were in the middle of studying when...

Katsuki happened.

Then you realized you weren’t in the commons area anymore. Somehow, you were laying in a medium sized bed, covers strewn over your naked body, along with a muscular arm draped across your torso. To your side you can see a passed out Katsuki snoring quietly into his pillow. Even when he’s asleep, he still looks angry.

Jolting upright, you carefully pry his arm from your body. No prevail. He’s got a strong hold on you.

He shuffled in his sleep and tightened his grip around you.

“Mmm...not leaving...stay a little longer,” he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “We both can’t walk out of your dorm in the morning. People will get suspicious of us. Not to mention Aizawa,” you retorted back.

“Oh? Don’t like the idea of ‘us’ huh? That’s not what you said last night.”

You didn’t need to look to know he was wearing his infamous shit eating smirk.

“Shut up.”

For the first time you heard Katsuki genuinely laugh without forcing it. You looked over and saw his eyes wide open now, staring at nothing but you.

“Whatever, you love me Y/N.”

“I DO NOT!”

Grabbing your face with his rough hands, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“Go to fucking sleep nerd, we have a pre-exam in a few hours.”

(You can obviously tell I got lazy at the end LMFAO. This has been in my drafts for a LONG time. Also, this isn’t edited so please excuse the horrendous text that is this post. Xoxo)

#bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou

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sparklygoblin · 3 years

Text

okay so I've been gone for a minute because I was writing my first fic on ao3 but I'm back with more trash than ever! I really love crack fics and my friend and I thought up this absolutely GREASY premise and I just couldn't help myself. I only included a few of my ideas in this post but let me know if yall like it and maybe I'll do a part 2

Haikyuu!! Frat House AU

Bokubro is obviously a member of the frat, he's also a minor drug dealer with Kuroo, and his room is L I T E R A L L Y DISGUSTANG, like Kuroo actually has a fear of Bokuto's side of their room. People are baffled, BAFFLED when they find out that his boyfriend is non other than Akaashi, president of the most prestigious fraternity on campus. But what can akaashi say? he believes any guy who can drink his weight in vodka, take at least three different unnameable drugs, and still smile at him the morning after, deserves his attention.

Kuroo took one for the team when he rushed, and roomed with Bokuto. Needless to say, his quiet gamer boyfriend, Kenma, refuses to stay over. When they first met at one of the frat's infamous ragers, they'd stumbled into Kuroo's shared room, heading toward a drunk hook up. Then Kenma put his hand in something wet. And very much alive. That was the first and last time. Bokuto and him irritate everyone by constantly referring to themselves as "businessmen", only to be immediately informed by Iwaizumi and Daichi that "selling drugs to high schoolers doesn't make you business men"

Daichi didn't want to be in charge, but duty calls and when you and Iwaizumi are the only sane ones in the house, well a man has to step up. Plus, it totally gains him brownie points with all of the trashy college girls that show up to their notorious parties. because he was totally interested in that, and definetly not in the chaotic silver haired boy from the competing fraternity. no he wanted nothing to do with Sugawara. It's not like he catches himself openly fantasizing about him, and the whole house made it into a running joke.

Iwaizumi is also in charge, to no one's surprise. he and daichi have the cleanest room in the house, not only that but he's the only one who will do dishes. he's exhausted. he's also sleeping with Oikawa Tooru the single most irritating member of the prestigious fraternity suga and akaashi are in. but don't mention it, don't talk about the way he blushes when oikawa throws it back, and DEFINETLY don't bring up the time Oikawa broke his knee sneaking out of Iwaizumi's room, and spent an entire semester harassing iwaizumi on a bright pink motorized scooter.

Ushijima doesn't really care enough to be in charge. Mans is a FARMER if you catch my drift, and he makes fat stacks off of his "business" with Kuroo and Bokuto. once spent the entirety of his rush week in a maid's costume. but hey he's not complaining, it did get him the attention of that really weird dude from his leisure cooking class. he and Tendou are possibly the only couple that have it all figured out so kudos to them, three years strong

the miya twins are living frat legends, and they have been since their first party, at which Osamu got wasted and punched an equally wasted atsumu in the face for "breathing too loud". Atsumu seems like he sleeps around a lot, and maybe he did, but the guy won't stop simping for a very reserved chem major named Sakusa. sakusa gave into atsumu's begging once and woke up on a stained mattress in Vegas for his trouble.

Terushima is also there, making each party a little bit more chaotic and sleeping his way through ever girl on campus, except for kiyoko and yachi, the other guys were oddly protective of them. make no mistake though, terushima was a loveable himbo, who made extra sure that safe, sane , and consensual relations were his top priority. during hell week, he had to poop in a target dumpster, but daichi and iwaizumi didn't keep a good look out for him, he narrowly avoided getting arrested. NARROWLY.

Nishinoya and Tanaka rushed together. it went exactly how you think it did. Daichi and iwaizumi swore up and down that if they weren't desperate for new pledges, they would've never let those two in after they set the toilet on fire. Tanaka got really smacked one night and took a vow to abstain from any hook ups until he and Kiyoko (the hot girl from that one sorority) were engaged. Noya holds him to it and it's actually really wholesome. Noya on the other hand is battling a low grade obsession with the anxious design major from Akaashi's fraternity. everytime Asahi gets inebriated he's instantly the life of the party, and if Noya wasn't already in love, that time drunk Asahi took his clothes off and swam in the city fountain with him really cemented it.

kyoutani hates that little snot from the other fraternity....what was his name? mini oikawa, super prissy and whiny....YaHAbA. Kyoutani won Iwazumi's admiration when he took his rush like a champ, obliterating keg stands and hair removal alike. everyone thinks it's really funny because they're basically the same person down to the snotty, prissy, irritating boyfriends they won't admit they have.

Ennoshita is the mini daichi, and he's a simp for Tanaka. constantly pulling him back from fights, and rubbing his back when he throws up. maybe someday Tanaka might notice....

Lev is possibly the dumbest rush they have ever received and also the most fun. his natural talent for shotgunning and dangerous drunken adventures, makes him a favorite. he ripped his pants in front of the entire student body during his rush, on purpose. like he wanted it to happen. still to this day, no one understands why. he's been simping for yaku as long as he's been in college, so two whole months. to the outside world, it looks like the angry little man wouldn't think twice about the lowly freshman, but lev's been in enough closets with him to know that that's just not true.

kindaichi just adds to the madness, he's an anxious peacemaker with an epic talent as a lightweight, and a massive crush on his apathetic roommate, kunimi. Kunimi regretted joining the frat the first time he watched Bokuto peel string cheese with his toes.

Hinata and Kageyama are rushing at the same time. Tobio Swageyama is made for Greek life, but Hinata can barely do a keg stand. So naturally they are paired together through the rush callenges. This results in the loss of no less than six pairs of pants, a completely bald (no eyebrows) Kageyama, and an upside down lower back tattoo reading "boke", sometimes they get a little too spicy at parties and take the whole "kiss the homies goodnight" thing to a whole other level

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc.

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite.

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him.

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.)

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events.

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

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missinghan · 3 years

Text

broken umbrella ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 1,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : a typical day in your life starts with having candies poured over your head and ends with breaking han jisung’s umbrella.

❖ note : I wanted to write smth dumb okay-

one.

Jisung gives his desk a harsh kick, one that does no good in releasing his inner storm, only to wince in pain later because he’s an idiot.

Classes have been somewhat less than boring these days, partially because his mind is occupied with thoughts of you half of the time and partially because…well, more thoughts of you. Oh wait, today is a little different than usual considering the fact that you did not give him a proper response.

To what?

Putting it simply, he woke up early this morning to go over his routine more thoroughly—styling his hair, making sure that his tie isn’t sloppy-looking, and spraying himself with his brother’s cologne. He doesn’t usually care for any one of those things until junior starts and you show up. Call him desperate, or delusional, or childish even but it truly felt like fate when you two first encountered each other.

“Yeah right, fate,” Hyunjin snickers loudly, swirling a strawberry-flavored lollipop inside his mouth. “You meant when you fell on your ass on the bus the other day and you accidentally grabbed her collar?”

Jisung feels his cheeks heat up thanks to his friend’s less than necessary comment. “Shut the fuck up, you’re just jealous.” It was great. Not only did he fall head over heels for you, but he also left a bad impression.

Back to the point. All of his hard work this morning is reduced to nothing because of the rain. His hair is messed up, his uniform looks sloppy, and his shoes are covered in mud from skipping through puddles. Not to mention, he showed up timely enough to be there when you opened your locker, having various candies and sweets poured down your head, scattered all over the hallway.

Yeji should have told him you didn’t like sweet things yesterday, damn it. Because he’s never seen you giving him that look before. The look that makes him believe you will make him experience torment and pain, begging for the mercy that never comes—make his life a living hell basically.

“How did your plan go, by the way?” His friend asks out of boredom.

“Fantastic,” he replies under his breath when everything is, in fact, not fantastic.

Hyunjin tilts his head. “Did she know?”

“Know what? That I’m in love with her? I mean I wasn’t trying to be subtle or anything-“

“No, did she know that it was gonna rain today?”

Shrugging, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in exhaustion; forty-five minutes periods should be illegal. “Why does that matter?”

“Hey, Han!”

Jisung turns his head to the voice and sees Felix sliding the door to his classroom open, uneven breaths as if he’s been running for his life while holding two umbrellas in his arms. He glances at his friend’s state with a grimace, head cocked to the side in confusion. Luckily, no one really spends recess in class except for loners like himself anyway. “What are you doing?”

“Y/N didn’t bring an umbrella!” The freckled boy exclaims with excitement, only able to coax an amused hum from Hyunjin. “But you have an umbrella, and it’s still raining! Which means…?”

A comical silence falls upon the three of them. It takes Jisung approximately five taps of Hyunjin’s finger on the table to fully process his friend’s point. Realization lights up in his eyes like a candle but dies down with a pout on his face. “But she can just go with her friends?” he says with expressive hands, though a little disappointed.

“I’m not gonna half-ass it if I plan on helping you,” Felix gives the two umbrellas, a white one and a pink one, in his hands a slight jerk, looking oddly proud.

This time, Jisung catches on immediately; his eyes go wide in shock as though his friend has committed the greatest sin. “Yeji and Lia are so gonna kill you.”

two.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” Lia asks while hopeless rummaging through her stuff. “I swear with my own eyes I saw myself putting one in my bag this morning.”

Yeji shakes her head in defeat, tugging at the straps of her backpack. “I was pretty sure I brought one too. I even used it to walk to the bus stop this morning! Someone must have taken it during recess,” she sighs, dreading the pouring rain and grey clouds.

It’s raining again. It’s only been raining today, the weather forecast did predict that it’s most likely going to last for a whole week too (not that you bothered checking). You don’t mind the rain, though. You like the fact that they make the world appear mistier, hazier like a fever dream.

What isn’t good about the rain is the fact that your parents won’t be too happy to see you come home looking like a wet rat. Or the fact that you’ll probably get a really bad cold, and that won’t be pretty during midterms week. Or the fact that most students are absolute idiots and didn’t bring their own umbrellas either. Everyone is shoving each other for space under the canopy at the main gate so the rain won’t soak their clothes.

You’re not having it. At all.

“Yeji, Lia. I’m going home,” you purse your lips together and take a breath.

Lia frowns at your particular solution. “Already? But you’re gonna get wet.”

“My house is a ten-minute walk away. Shouldn’t be too bad,” you say lowly in faint annoyance, eyes squinted from the discomfort of lack of space; these students have no manners whatsoever, you’re getting claustrophobic.

With a determined huff, you pull the zipper of your jacket up and throw the hood over your hair. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Shadow suddenly looms over the top of your head, warmth radiates to your clothed arm. In the corner of your eyes, a familiar face comes into view and forces a heavy exhale from your lips.

“Hey, do you wanna go with-“ Jisung pauses midway when you take off running, shattering his fantasy of living in a drama into bits without mercy. “Y/N! Wait up!”

three.

“Come here! Or you’ll get sick!”

“Why the hell do you care?”

“Y/N, stop being so stubborn! You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“It’s none of your business.”

After walking down several blocks down the road, past nothing but empty plazas and mostly closed café, you even take an extra U-turn, going through a skeptical alley just so Jisung will get tired and stop following you. Your effort doesn’t not prevail so you give up eventually, deciding to take the proper turn to head home before it’s too late to prepare dinner.

The poor boy can feel the rain drizzle down his black umbrella before falling onto his windbreaker, soaking through the fabric to stain his senses with a chilling sensation. He has already calmed every racing thought that ceases to ease his erratic heartbeat but no matter how hard he tries, there isn’t one second where he isn’t thinking about your well-being.

“Hey,” he calls out; when you turn around, he’s closing his umbrella and tossing it to the ground, leaving it to graze the tip of your shoes. “Take it and go home. I won’t bother you anymore.”

You roll your eyes before picking it up, mercilessly letting it flop right in front of him. “I don’t need it.”

Jisung clicks his tongue in irritation, not caring that droplets are falling from his head and his skin is crawling from the cold. Somehow, he’s starting to become baffled for no reason. Perhaps it’s because of your nonchalance about the current situation; you shouldn’t be so apathetic when he’s genuinely worried sick for your health.

His eyes are heavy with rain droplets so he blinks them away before glaring at you slightly. “You need it more than I do. Would you please stop acting irrationally, take the umbrella and head home? The rain isn’t stopping anytime soon.” His leg jerks up to kick at the innocent object; still isn’t enough to relish the turmoil hurling his innards.

He brushes past you, shoving your shoulder a little while expecting you to finally accept his offer. To his dismay, you once again grab at the poor, poor umbrella, and throw it at his leg with more force this time. When it drops to the ground with a small thud, his heart pauses awkwardly in disappointment.

The sun is going down by the second but you can still see the faint outline of his scowl. “Go home, Jisung. It’s getting late,” you remark coldly, stuffing your freezing hands into your pocket.

With a loud groan, he marches back to where you two were originally standing, a curse word lingers on the tip of his tongue. But he manages to swallow it back down before gently tugging at the sleeve of your jacket. “Take the umbrella at least,” he voices softly, the crack more evident than anything at the end. “Look, I know I’ve been nothing but a nuisance since we first met. I just really like you and I care for you okay? Go home, Y/N.”

“Please.”

You look at him after moments, your once hateful eyes finally glinting with something else other than general distaste and annoyance. It only takes one glance of his tired eyes to pierce through your phlegmatic front, leaving your raw emotions out in the open. Before Jisung can say another word or take notice of the rare warmth creeping in your gaze, you take his hand in yours and pull him toward a nearby apartment complex to not wait out in the downpour any longer. By the time that you’ve released the grip, he’s still staring into the nothingness, eyes slightly wide in shock.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you gonna go home?” he blurts out finally after snapping out of it.

“This is my apartment complex. But I must have dropped my card somewhere. So I can’t go inside.”

A sigh. “Is anyone home right now?”

“My phone is dead.”

Jisung perks up and his hand fishes inside his pocket. “You can use-”

You inhale deeply, looking away. “Enough is enough, Jisung. Go home.”

“You broke my umbrella,” he mentions, blinking rapidly to bat the droplets away from his eyelashes. “I can’t go home like this.”

Few beats of silence later, a middle-aged woman dressed in a beige trench coat walks past the both of you, two high school students pathetically standing under the canopy like wet rats; she swipes her card against the security lock and the glass door pops open without much effort. Sparing you the last look, she’s probably thinking ‘kids these days’ before heading inside with a roll of her eyes.

Jisung hurriedly skips over to hold the door open for you, motions for you to walk in with his head. To his surprise, you comply but bring your steps to a halt to situate yourself in front of him. His lashes are wet and heavy; that’s when you realize how soaked you both are and how terribly cold the temperature it’s getting. Your hand reaches out to brush the raindrops away softly, shaking his heart to the core.

The silence is graceful in the wake of the moment, the rain in the background just makes everything that much more cinematic. However, Jisung isn’t in the right mind state to fanboy over the fact that his drama fantasy is one step closer to reality. He wishes to cling to this moment forever because he just can’t get enough. He can never.

“I’ll get you a towel,” you pull away calmly, thinking how cute he sort of looks when his cheeks are three shades redder. “And a new umbrella.”

His smile has never been brighter, you notice. Even when he’s out in the brutal cold and completely drenched from head to toe. And wait...have his eyes always been so pretty?

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tetsuroyaoyaoya · 3 years

Text

✧ CAFÉ AU NAME ✧

pairing: barista!akaashi x f!reader

word count: 2,418

synopsis: you walk into akaashi’s back-alley coffee shop every thursday evening with a new book, a new order, and a new name.

The feathers of the duster glided over the counter, brushing off any loose beans onto the linoleum on the bar. Conscious of the time, Akaashi let his eyes wander over to the door expectantly. It was still an hour till closing time, but that’s not exactly what he was looking forward to.

For the last two months or so, every Thursday evening, roughly an hour before close; in walked you.

From the second you walked through the door, he was entranced by you, and his infatuation only deepened the more you visited his hidden little cafe.

Akaashi had never been one to have friends, besides ones he met through his old volleyball team, and there was definitely no girlfriend anywhere in the picture, so he didn't really know where to start when just one look at you made his heart tumble out of his chest.

And, becuase of course, there was another dilema on his mind; despite asking for your name every time he made your drink, he didnt actually know your real name yet. Every time you came in you had ordered something wildly different, along with a brand new name. The poor boy thought he was going insane.

The first time he had met you, it had been a sunny evening, and as usual, the shop was pretty much empty - only two customers and himself occupying the café. He was practically begging for something to do before the bell on the door chimed, signalling another entry.

For the first time in his life, Akaashi had to physically pause in shock as he laid eyes on you. He quickly caught himself out and slipped right back into his role, but the fact that you had caught his attention enough to distract him like that was baffling to him.

"Good evening. What can I get started for you?" His eyes followed you as you approached the counter gracefully, smiling at him before squinting up at the menu.

"Ah... hazelnut mocha? Yeah, regular size, please." Akaashi resisted the urge to chuckle at your indecisiveness.

"And a name for that?" You rained an eyebrow slightly, eyes darting around the shop, noting how empty it was. Akaashi has realised his mistake, but it was both a mistake of habit and just a petty excuse to learn your name.

"Elizabeth." Once again, Akaashi was rendered speechless. It seemed his surprise didn't go unnoticed either as you attempted to hide your giggle behind the book he hasn't realised you were holding. he tried to catch the title, but didn't get the chance as you had composed yourself before he could even blink.

He cleared his throat and moved to the till, where he quickly tapped your order into the machine. He tried desperately not to blush when your hands brushed as you handed him the money for your drink, and decided to focus on making your drink instead of studying your face.

However, because of this, he completely missed the way your eyes followed him as he danced across the bar, first for the syrup, then for the chocolate. It was as if you would miss the entire show if you took your eyes off of him. He moved so fluently it was if the process was ingrained into his body. You continued to watch as he allowed the chocolate to steam unsupervised while he prepared the espresso, savouring the scent of the coffee as he pulled the shots.

You noticed a slight change in the sound to the steam, as did he, and without even looking he turned the lever to stop it, while also pouring the the espresso into the mug and swirling it together. The pouring felt like some sort of performance, with the way he held the jug so lightly, gently and precisely guiding the chocolate into the mug, wiggling it to make a gorgeous pattern on top.

He placed the drink on a saucer, pairing it with a spoon and a little biscuit that he had pulled from seemingly nowhere. You smiled gratefully as he pushed it over to you, barely able to meet your eyes.

“If you want a quiet place to read, the corner over there with the ferns is probably your best bet,” He nodded over to a little nook across the shop and you could see what he meant, it was secluded, and all other tables were faced away from it, but you could still see out over the entire store, especially with it being so small.

“They’re fake... in case, you know... allergies?’ Giggling, you tucked your book under your arm in order to use both hands to carry the drink over to the table. A you did, Akaashi finally got a good look at the spine.

‘Pride and Prejudice’

Elizabeth, of course.

“I’ll be here if you need anything.” With one last nod in thanks, you left the counter, allowing the barista to breathe again without the fear or stuttering or stumbling over his words.

The second time he met you it has already turned cold, and frost was beginning to creep its way up the café windows. Luckily, it was nice and toasty inside the shop, and with an unlimited supply of hot drinks at his fingertips, it couldn’t be any better.

Except, it could.

Akaashi was actually meant to be training up a new barista today, and yet he was distracted, thinking about a certain customer that he hasn't seen in a full week now. Who did he think he was? Falling in love at first sight only to possibly never see you again? It was just his luck.

The owner was drawn out of his thoughts as he heard a hiss of pain, immediately looking over to see said new barista with a hand now covered in scalding hot coffee. He sighed, but quickly grabbed the cloth he kept in his apron pocket. Wiping the trainee’s hand, he instructed them to run it under cold water for as long as possible to make sure it didn't blister.

As they walked away, Akaashi faintly heard the door chime, and ran a hand through his hair in order to calm himself before speaking to a customer.

“Hi, what can I- oh...” You stood across the counter, warm eyes peeking out from where your neck and mouth were buried in the biggest, fluffiest scarf Akaashi thought he’d ever seen. He heard a small chuckle and you reached up to unravel yourself from the bundle of fabric.

“Stressed?” Your voice was soft when you finally freed yourself. Akaashi could only give you a nod and a small smile in response, aware of his trainee’s return to the machine. A quick once-over told him that they were fine and he could continue with their training.

“What can I get you today?” It only took one look between the two baristas to understand the situation, and you immediately took pity on the owner, deciding to order something simple to be nice.

“Just a latte, thank you.” The more experienced barista smiled at you gratefully, and put the transaction through the till before taking your money.

“And a name for that?” He suggested playfully, mostly in reference to his mistake the last time the two of you met.

“Emma.” He almost laughed, eyeing the new book you were holding. A fan of Jane Austen then. Akaashi opened his mouth to say something else when he was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of breaking glass behind him. It was a good thing he turned away in a panic the second he heard it, or else he would have seen you jump out of your skin in surprise.

The whole café seemed to become even quiter than it already was for a few moments, only Akaashi’s soothing murmer present in the silence. He once again made sure that the trainee was alright before instructing them to step away so that he could clean up the mess. He disappeared for a moment before returning with a sweeping brush. With a smile, albeit a nervous one, he told you to sit down to wait rather than remaining at the counter.

“Get comfy, it may be a minute.”

The third time you returned to his little café, Akaashi was too busy already serving a customer to greet you immediately. He was so distracted that he hadn't even heard the chime of the bell on the door, which was unusual. What did attract his attention to you however, was the odd sniffle every minute or so to his left. He slipped his gaze over you in time to see you desperately trying to hold back a sneeze, nose scrunched in the cutest way possible, sleeve ready to catch it.

With a quiet chuckle he quickly finished up with his current customer, handing the order over to his trainee, who had surprisingly improved by miles in the past week, and was now able to handle the standard drinks to an acceptable degree.

As the customer moved on, he watched you with an amused smile as you practically waddled up to the counter, no scarf today, but instead a chunky sweater that more of less buried you, barely visible fingers clutching your book choice for this week - Sense and Sensibility.

He raised an eyebrow expectantly and you rolled your eyes. Despite the scarf the previous visit, you had managed to catch a cold last week from the freezing wind you walked through to get to the café, and you still hadn't fully recovered yet.

“Afternoon, Elinor.” Your eyes widened as he guessed you name for this week before you even had chance to order, but it brought an excited smile to your face.

“Something strong... uh, a... ugh!” He snickered at your frustration and you scowled, a crease in your brow, but he couldn't take you seriously with the bright pink flush across your cheeks the cold had given you.

“A cappuccino!” You announced triumphantly, but quickly calmed yourself in slight embarrassment as you realised you might have been just a tad too loud. Akaashi was clearly enjoying your playfulness today, but made no comment, thankfully.

“Chocolate dusting?” You perked up again at that, but remained sheepish.

“Extra, please?” He put your order through the till as he always did, and you stalked off to find your usual seat as he handed it off to the trainee.

The fourth time you stopped by, the cold spell has finally disappeared, and the glow of the evening light shining through the windows was slightly warmer than it had been recently.

Despite this, the sight of the improved weather was immediately dampened when you walked in, such a tired expression on your face that Akaashi physically stopped in his track out of worry. You always had such a happy smile that seeing you without it seemed so strange.

At the look on his face, you tried your hardest to smile like you usually did, but you could both that it was horribly forced, and you gave up quickly.

“Choose for me today, ‘kaashi.” He didn't know what surprised him more - the nickname or the fact that you knew his name in the first place. Obviously it was on his name tag that you saw every time you were in the shop, but he hadn't expected you to actually remember it.

He couldn't help the strange feeling in his stomach, both in worry and... something else that he couldn't quite place the feeling of.

“This one’s on me. Jane today?” Even with your mood, you were never without your precious book. A quick look at the cover told him that it was Jane Eyre today, his favourite.

You opened your mouth to protest, but one stern look from Akaashi shut you right up. You gave him a thankful smile, a genuine one, and slowly walked off to take your usual spot.

Akaashi waited until you had your back turned to quickly switch places with his other barista in order to personally make your drink today. The other barista was shocked at his hurry, but shook their head with a smile at the action. They had witnessed enough interactions between the two of you to understand.

The next week, Akaashi waited all day and all evening, so worried about last week and how you left without a word that he couldn't even focus on his work because he just needed to see you to make sure you were okay.

But you never came.

He was upset, but you were probably busy, or something had happened, but the though of an incident of some sort only put him even more on edge than he already was.

With a sigh, he exited the shop, adjusting the bag on his shoulder so that he could place the key in the door to lock it. He was about to turn the metal when he heard frantic footsteps behind him. Akaashi glanced back to see you, rushing as quickly as you could, jacket billowing behind you as you made it towards him.

You came to a stop just next to him, hands on your knees as you attempted to catch your breath as Akaashi stared down at you in bewilderment. As you finally stood straight, you smiled heavily, breaths still laboured.

“Work meeting ran over,” you tried to explain, “you aren't closed yet, are you?” You could clearly see him with the key in the door, but he could hear the evident disappointment in your voice.

“Depends.” Hope flooded your features and the absolute joy on your face would have made him give in if he hadn't already.

“On?” Even if he didn't know it, you could see plain as day how dejected he looked today, and you had an inkling that it was to do with your lack of appearance.

“Tell me your name.” The was a slight pause, before you giggled at the simple condition, causing Akaashi to turn his head away as to hide from you how contagious your smile really was.

“Y/N.” You held your hand out, having never been happier to introduce yourself to someone.

“Keiji, nice to meet you.” He took your hand in his and shook it, lingering for a moment before letting to go to take the key out of the door and open it, gesturing you inside with a smile.

You brought books to places with you to loose yourself in someone else’s fantasy, but maybe you had found your real-life fairytale.

masterlist

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #barista au

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