#gonna try to resist babbling too much but one more thing I do hope it's somewhat readable WEEPS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waka-chan-out · 3 years

Note

Okay so I heard you were looking for requests for short stuff so do you have any headcanons for getting just. Absolutely railed by Haikyuu team captains, please and thank you. (I really love your stuff and I hope you take this!)

Rough Captain Headcanons

sub captains edition here.

you heard correctly!! (though this did not end up being very short lmaoo) i am a whore for the haikyuu captains so you’ve come to the right place. and thank you so much! i’ll take any opportunity to talk about my boys.

i included literally every single captain i could think of, including the karasuno captains after daichi and our timeskip kings. have fun.

post-timeskip, obviously.

content warnings: mostly gn! reader (but occasional fem!), lots of pet names, lots of teasing and degradation, hair pulling, spanking, three (3) creampies god i hate that word, hickies, handcuffs, etc. all of these are established relationship.

so i don’t know how to describe what exactly these headcanons are? i don’t think all of the captains are the “railing” type. however, these are basically just headcanons for when they go their hardest and either accidentally or purposefully get carried away.

Sawamura Daichi

likes to cage you under him and just lose it. will loop an arm around your waist and lift you up into him, so your back arches and he can hit the perfect angle.

will. not. let you look away. grabs your chin. pulls your hair. will move you however he needs to so he can look you in the eyes while he’s pounding into you.

“Shy now, princess?” Daichi said, tipping your chin to look at him. “Don’t hide. You look so pretty like this.” A sharp breath left your lips as he pressed his hips farther forward, grinding into you and sending a shock of pleasure through your body. “That’s it, sweetheart. Taking it so well. Let me give you what you deserve.”

Ennoshita Chikara

he’s a hair puller. like he doesn’t think much about it but he really likes pulling you by your hair back against his chest so he can whisper dirty shit in your ear. sometimes he gets a little too aggressive with it, so if you’re into that kind of thing, he’s your man.

possessive as all hell. you’re going out for drinks with coworkers? he’s leaving a hickie right at the collar of your top so everyone can see that you’re taken. coming out to dinner with his old teammates? he’s going to have an arm on you all night. loves to pull you in and remind you of things you did the night before to get you flustered.

very particular about how you’re positioned. will pin your arms above your head and readjust his grip several times. pushes your legs out of the way. grabs your jaw and moves your face where he wants you. somehow he doesn’t realize how hot that is until you tell him to his face. he’s still confused about it but has learned to love that you love it.

Chikara ran a hand up your side and let it rest in your hair for a moment before tugging hard. You gasped as he pulled it back and to the side, exposing your neck so he could leave marks as he pushed deeper inside you. You let out a whimper and tried to loop an arm around his neck but he grabbed your wrist and pinned it down.

“Patience, love. I want everyone to be able to tell I fucked you senseless.”

Yamaguchi Tadashi

he tries to dirty talk, but it always turns into praise and repeating how much he loves you.

aggressive and whiny, begging for more even though he’s the one giving it to you.

prefers when you ride him, but will do anything you ask of him. loves being told what to do. thinks you directing him to go faster or slower or a little to the left is the sexiest thing on the planet. he will fuck the life out of you if you just ask nicely.

“Harder, Tadashi,” you gasped. He grunted and snapped his hips as fast and as hard as it seems his body would let him.

“God, you’re gonna make me come. How do you feel so fucking good?” You smiled at the praise and pulled him in for a kiss. His breath hissed against your face as he continued pushing into you. You wrapped your legs tight around him and he let out a whine, pressing his face against yours. “I’m so fucking glad you’re mine.”

Oikawa Tooru

he’s a biter

likes to be lazy and dirty talks while you ride him usually, but every so often he shifts and will fuck you until tears are running out of your eyes.

will lay on top of you while you’re on your stomach, an arm looped around your neck, and just fuck you into the bedsheets. he’s wrapped up in his own little world, choking on high pitched moans and gasping for breath. like i said, he’s a biter, so you end up with marks all over your neck and shoulders. he’s just a fucking baby. the sounds he makes are so whiny and breathy it sounds like he’s the one getting destroyed instead of you.

“Ngh, fuck,” Tooru gasped. His breath was hot in your ear as you panted into the mattress. “Feel so good around me. You’re just begging for my cum, aren’t you?” You wanted to laugh and tell him you weren’t the one begging, but you couldn’t. Your breath was being torn from your lungs with every thrust. Tooru sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he pounded into you harder, letting out a soft whimper against your skin. His voice raised in pitch until he was practically whining. “Hah—gonna come soon. You feel so good.” His voice trailed off as it reached a whimper and he buried his face back against your neck, body shaking in anticipation.

Kuroo Tetsuro

spanking spanking spanking

seriously, hits it from the back and is not nice about it.

kuroo likes pulling you closer by your hips or ankles, turning you over whenever he feels like it, whatever. he just likes being able to toss you around and position you so he hits you just right every time.

“What? Trying to get away? That’s not how you take it, is it?” Kuroo grabbed your hips and yanked you flush against him. You cried out and buried your face against the bed. “There we go.” He laid a slap on your ass and laughed at the small sound you let out. “I’m not done with you yet. You’re not going anywhere.”

Bokuto Koutarou

he fucks himself dumb. accidentally goes so hard he’s whining and can barely hear you if you ask him to speed up or slow down.

likes missionary because he likes being as close to you as humanly possible and it gives him the best leverage to just.....lose it. gasping against your face and babbling about how good you feel. going off of that, he has a very hard time pulling out. lord have mercy. use a condom or get on a reliable birth control because as much as he tries, he’s never going to have any self-control in the moment.

he forgets just how strong he is sometimes, which results in bruises and weak limbs and occasionally trouble walking. he always apologizes profusely and offers many kisses to make up for it even after you insist that you’re fine.

“Baby, please let me come inside you. Please. Oh my god,” Koutarou whined, tightening his grip on your thigh and snapping his hips harder.

“Yes, Kou. Please.” You brought him down into a kiss. You were both panting and Koutarou was moaning, practically vibrating against you as he got closer. He began moving erratically, pounding harder into you and making you cry out.

“M’sorry. Fuck. I’m gonna come.” His chest heaved as he thrust into you hard once, twice, and let out a long groan. You could feel him twitching inside you, hands clutching your skin so hard it was almost painful. He mumbled praise and curses and nonsense against your lips, slowing his movement until he collapsed on top of you. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead and tucked his face into your neck. “Thank you. I love you. Oh my god.”

Futakuchi Kenji

likes holding your legs and moving them around to see what gets the biggest reaction from you. doesn’t care what position you’re in but loves when your legs are closed and lifted so you’re extra tight around him.

his goal is to see you as desperate as possible. he’ll do whatever it takes to get your eyes rolling back, your hands clutching at anything they can grab, mindless pleading, all of it. he just wants to watch you fall apart because of him, and i gotta say, he’s good at getting his way.

“Oh, that’s it. Look at you,” Kenji cooed. He gently wiped a tear from your face as he readjusted your legs with his other hand, holding them tightly to his chest. “Coming apart already. I’m just getting started. Are you going to be good for me?”

Daishou Suguru

finger sucking finger sucking finger sucking. loves watching you gag so he’ll shove two fingers deep into your mouth and strokes them over your tongue. he also just does it to shut you up whenever he feels like it.

likes edging and teasing a little too much. will hold off from fucking you until you’re genuinely angry at him, so wet that he can push in with no resistance. then he makes it up to you by fucking you until you’re sobbing or your eyes are rolling back in your head. you’ve never had an orgasm with him that didn’t feel like you might not live to see the end of it.

“You like that, don’t you?” Suguru said, thumbing over your bottom lip as his cock slid between your legs, not pushing in like you desperately wanted him to. “Like when I use you like this? Should I just come like this? I don’t even have to fuck you to get myself off.” You let out a pathetic noise in protest and he laughed. “Maybe another time. Today I’ll be nice and give you my cock.” He dragged between your legs again and stopped at your entrance, slowly sinking in and pulling a relieved sigh from your throat. “There we go. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He slid two long fingers between your lips, pressing on the back of your tongue and nearly making you gag. “Now stay quiet while I use you.”

Terushima Yuuji

i.......i gotta mention the tongue piercing. i’m sorry. i know he gives the most enthusiastic, sloppiest head and FOR SURE owns a vibrating tongue ring. what a whore. i love him.

i feel like he’s messy. like he’s into spitting and really sloppy kissing and cum play and everything. will come in your mouth and tell you to hold it there while he fucks you stupid. sometimes kisses it out of your mouth. he’s a freak and i like it.

“Yuuji, fuck.” You could practically hear your body vibrating, past orgasms still lingering under your skin.

“Yeah? Tell me where you want me to come,” he said. You groaned as he abused the perfect angle inside of you and smirked down at your strained expression. “Not gonna talk to me?” You stayed silent as your head tipped back against your pillow. He chuckled and grabbed your face. “Open.” You blinked up at him and did as you were told, sticking out your tongue. He leaned forward and spat into your mouth. “I’m gonna come inside of you. Yeah? That what you want?” You nodded and swallowed, eyes pinched shut and voice frozen in your throat. He laughed and snapped his hips harder. “That’s right. Anything for you, princess.”

Ushijima Wakatoshi

so we’ve all agreed: horse cock ushijima, however, he usually uses those powers for good. very gentle, very eager to please, exactly what you’d want in a man.

he’s not a hard dom, but sometimes he gets so overwhelmed with how much he loves you that he forgets how strong he is. pounding into you with his whole heart and whispering in your ear how much he adores you between groans. very vocal. a little too rough. definitely feels very guilty when you’re sore the next day but if you kiss him and tell him you liked it....he may be willing to throw caution to the wind again sometime.

Wakatoshi didn’t speak much, but the room was far from silent. He made the prettiest sounds when he was lost in you, grunts turning to long moans, made even sweeter when they were hummed against your lips. The groan of the bed mixed with the strike of skin against skin, white noise behind your already muddled thoughts. Wakatoshi pushed your legs farther toward your chest and leaned down, laying his face right against your ear.

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice seemed to rumble through your entire body. “You’re so good to me, darling. I love you.”

Kita Shinsuke

very soft. y’all are never gonna catch me writing hard dom kita shinsuke. HOWEVER. he is so eager that sometimes it’s a little too much for either of you. like he doesn’t realize how aggressive he’s been until you’re both literally unable to catch your breath and have to just lay in silence for a while. will ask you very nicely if you’re okay and get you water and anything else you need, but he will have this little grin on his face the whole time because he’s so happy to be able to put you both in that state.

Kita’s face scrunched up into a tight wince as he came, as his hips slowing into hard, deep thrusts that made your vision go white. Your grip in his hair was so tight you were sure it hurt, but you couldn’t help it when he was scrambling your brain with every touch. He stopped moving and you realized just how hard both of you were breathing. It felt like you couldn’t fill your lungs, body so spent that it couldn’t even do what it needed to do to survive. His braced arms on either side of your head were shaking, and his eyes were still shut tight.

“Shin,” you said, as steadily as you could through your gasping breaths. He didn’t answer. “Shin, baby, you okay?”

He exhaled hard and smiled, then let himself fall on top of you.

“Perfect. I’m—you’re perfect. I love you.” You laughed and combed your fingers through his hair, then pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too.”

Meian Shūgo

what to say about this man......

i feel like my opinions about what he likes and doesn’t like are kind of hot takes, because most of the stuff i see with him is hard dom. but. i raise you: overly excited switch meian shūgo.

captain meian shūgo likes to be teased and edged within an inch of his sanity. he likes when you talk shit and order him around and he’s DEFINITELY into handcuffs. however, he always pays you back for it. even if he’s still cuffed up and a little pink in the face from embarrassment, he will absolutely use you. very loud. loves when you leave scratch marks. loves leaving hickies everywhere.

You were almost shocked by the high moan that left Shūgo’s throat as he finally sunk into you. His face screwed up in pleasure and concentration as he withdrew his hips and drove them back against you.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this. You tease me all that time but you can’t wait for me to fuck you like this, can you?”

“That’s some tough talk for someone whose wrists are still bound,” you said through a smile. He let out a breathy laugh and braced his hands on your stomach, still connected by leather and a short chain.

“Doesn’t keep me away from you.” He raised an eyebrow and pushed deeper inside you. “I can still use your body when I’m all tied up.”

Hirugami Fukurō

pulling a headcanon from his brother’s list and saying he likes getting his hair pulled, which means he loooooves going down on you.

will leave your legs feeling like jelly because he makes you come at least three times, and each one is hard. like, you forget where you are and can’t breathe for a few minutes afterward.

will cock warm you until you’re begging him to please, please move. proceeds to fuck you slowly, but so hard and so deep you’re feeling him between your legs the entire next day.

“Done already? That’s no fun,” Fukuro teased. You were still shaking from the last time he had pushed you over and he wasn’t helping the situation, thumb still circling your clit after already abusing it with his tongue.

“Come on. You know how to take me.” He continued easing his cock into you, dragging out all of the breath remaining in your body.

“Please,” you whispered. He smiled and leaned closer.

“Please what, love? Do you want me to stop? Use your words.”

“No.”

“Then tell me what you want.”

“Want you to—“ You gasped. “—fuck me. Please.” Fukuro grinned and positioned himself so he had more leverage over you.

“Good girl.”

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shootingstarwritings · 3 years

Text

Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling with some Feelings

“Wh-What are you doing…?" Ahmed moaned as a trail of slime slid into his singlet. Just the very touch caused his body to react with an eruption of pleasurable waves. He collapsed onto the locker room floor, slowly humping the floor to get any sort of friction on his hardening dick. "Haa… aahhhh...haaa…! This isn't… right." Ahmed bit down on his lip before letting down another desperate moan. So caught up in this invasive bliss that he didn't even care when the slimy creature squeezed itself into his leaking cock. Instead, he welcomed it. Thoughts of championships and the thrill of victory soon vanished beneath a blanket of ecstasy. "Ah! Ahhh! H-Holy fuck, I'm—!"

Ahmed wasn't able to finish as his body yielded to the enigmatic invader. His vision swam and he felt dizzy until he collapsed on a puddle of his precum. Ahmed's body convulsed on the ground, unable to even call for help, until he suddenly became rigid, back arched as if mid-orgasm. Then, he relaxed. Slowly, he rose from the ground and took a peek inside his wrestling singlet. "Damn kid, you got a sweet-ass body," he said, stretching his body and letting out a satisfying grunt as something popped. His more reserved personality and mannerisms were completely gone, as though it was someone else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna stay here forever. Just long enough to throw that match with Clay tonight. Can’t let my son lose that scholarship. You understand, right?” Adjusting his singlet again, the man in possession of Ahmed, Jerry, let out a sensual groan. “Ohhh, and maybe take advantage of this little body for a while. Not every day an old fart like me can be a young and sexy college stud for a few hours."

There was still time until the match, and considering how it would just be throwing the match to Clay, it wouldn’t take much effort. For now, Jerry could relax and enjoy what Ahmed's body had to offer. Grinning, he squeezed Ahmed's meat through the fabric and threw his head back in a low moan. "You're so lucky, being so sensitive. C'mon, let's get real acquainted."

Clay’s father had to struggle to keep his erection down as Clay seriously manhandled him the whole match. Each of Ahmed’s nerves seemed to be turbo-charged and Clay’s rough hands only seemed to aggravate that. With every slam and struggle—every time flesh met flesh with a flash of friction, Clay’s father found himself growing flushed. Didn’t even have to try that hard to throw, his over-horned body did the job for him.

Was it the spell or perhaps something more? Either way, soon Jerry found himself pinned to the mat with his son sneering down at him. The ref called the final point, and that was it. Jerry walked back to the locker rooms, ignoring the calls from his coach and friends. He couldn’t risk anyone catching on to his lack of disappointment.

To make sure the locker room would be empty, Jerry took an extremely long shower—checking his goods one last time before he would have to leave and return home to congratulate his son. Towel around his waist, he made his way over to the locker only to meet a meaty arm blocking his way.

"Gotta say, kinda disappointed in your performance today, Ahmed," Clay said with a glare.

“Oh, Clay! Uh, wh-what can I say? Performance anxiety,” Jerry said, shrugging.

Clay tilted his head in confusion. “The hell’s happened to you? All jumpy and squirrely.” He took a step forward, cornering his father against the lockers. “You sick or something? Honestly looking real weird.”

Swallowing, Clay’s father said, “Um, I suppose you just have the magic touch,” he said, mind racing to come up with a lie that would be somewhat believable. “Body got all hot and cold with you manhandling me like that.” Jerry prayed that his face and ears weren’t turning as red as he thought they were.

Clay nodded to himself while squinting as if deciphering a difficult piece of text. "That so…?” Hoping that was enough, Jerry began to walk away. However, Clay slammed both of his arms against the lockers, pinning his father completely. “All you had to do was ask,” Clay whispered, his incredulous look turning into one of passion. Without a word, he leaned and kissed Jerry on his borrowed lips. Too shocked to even fight, Jerry leaned back and shut his eyes. What did this rush of passion mean? It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open.

Caught in this stream of passion, Jerry met Clay's kiss with equal aggression. It was as if he was possessed by whatever sentiments Ahmed had locked away deep inside of his subconscious. Either way, Jerry couldn’t even bother trying to resist the youthful hormones that danced in every inch of his hunky, borrowed body.

“Damn, you taste real fine,” said Clay, leaning away to stare at the giddy, bubbly mess that was Jerry. “Your lips feel so nice. Bet they’d be even better wrapped around my dick,” he said, slapping his thigh as he said so. Jerry glanced down and saw his son’s fully erect cock straining against the confines of the singlet. Wordlessly, he nodded and got down on his knees. The taste was so salty, but he didn’t mind it at all. Hearing his son’s pleasured moans and the cock threatening to unhinge Ahmed’s jaw was enough to get Jerry’s own dick hard.

“Make me see white,” Jerry breathed as he drew back with a pop. He spread his legs, trying to show as much of his ass he could. “Fuck me hard, Clay. I don’t think I can live without that cock inside of me once.”

“Say no more.” With a grunt of effort, Clay lifted Jerry up and placed him down onto one of the benches. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentleman-y like.” Leaning up to steal another sensual kiss, Clay teased the rim of Ahmed’s hole with his cockhead. Jerry moaned and bit down on his lips. He took a few breaths, trying to relax, before just leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hold on, relax," whispered Clay, using a finger to loosen him up. "Got some lube in my locker. Give me a sec."

“You have what?” Jerry exclaimed as Clay briefly walked off. “H-How often do you do this here.”

Once Clay returned, he just grinned and said, “Enough.”

Though Jerry wanted to continue asking his son, the finger that penetrated him had another idea. Jerry, nearly cross-eyed, immediately tightened as a reflex. He leaned back, moaning like a slut as Clay slipped in another finger. Then another. “F-Fuck, I-I’m fucking cumming!” Jerry shouted as his dick erupted with shot after shot of pent-up aggression.

“Damn, came from just fingering?” Clay grinned. “Hope you still got fuel in the tank, Ahmed. I still haven’t got a chance to shoot my shot.”

Breathing heavily, Jerry nodded as he spread his legs even further. Despite his climax abating, the sensual haze in his mind didn’t leave. Instead, he felt as though he could cum again and again that night. “I’m still not satisfied. Split me in half, Clay!” He moaned. Although the more logical part of Jerry's mind screamed and begged, he didn't give a shit. He just wanted this hunky hole filled and his son's cock was the one thing that could fix that.

Clay wasted no time. He spread Jerry as much as he cut and gave a slow, experimental thrust. When Jerry didn't scream, he slowly picked up the pace. "Mm, yeah. Nrgh, fuck yeah," he grunted with every thrust. There was no reason to go so quick that it would take away from the passion. As promised, he was gentle with strong, rhythmic thrusts. Jerry met each one with the same rhythm. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as Clay's cock filled him—as though Jerry was finally complete. With this body and this cock inside of him, he was reaching Nirvana.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, Jerry noticed Clay’s core tightening. His face was flushed and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m—nggh—I’m gonna blow my load. Want me to cum inside?” Jerry quickly nodded. Clay grinned. “Good answer.” With renewed vigor, Clay continued plowing into Jerry as he babbled nonsense. “C’mon, Ahmed. Scream for me.” He said, slapping Ahmed’s quivering thighs.

“Oh my god,” said Jerry, covering his face to hide the tears. He was elated and embarrassed all at once. His own offspring was smashing him and all he could do was moan and allow it to happen. It had been years since he had sex this good, and he knew that Ahmed felt the same. No, for Ahmed it was even more intense. Somehow, Jerry understood that Ahmed had never had sex before. Now, at that moment, Jerry was losing his virginity for Ahmed. With that in mind, Jerry could feel his climax swiftly approaching.

“I'm gonna nut! I'm gonna—MMM!" Jerry stopped as Clay suddenly embraced him with a long, intense kiss. Unable to handle the heat and the passion any longer, Jerry climaxed. Both of their bodies became drenched in semen, but neither of them cared. All they wished was to taste as much of themselves in that kiss.

Sorry, Ahmed, thought Jerry, lemme just stay in this body for a little while longer. I’ll leave tomorrow in the morning. Promise.

#male possession #jock possession #possession #male body possession #slime possession

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kodraken · 3 years

Text

dark necessities.

pairing ✮ eren jaeger x fem!reader

synopsis ✮ you're too good for his liking, so eren shows you a thing or two about being bad

wc ✮ 2.5k

warnings ✮ nsfw, modern!au, dubcon, marijuana use, manipulation, reader is a smart little lamb and eren hates it, shotgunning, corruption kink, degredation, praise, daddy kink, dry humping, fingering, overstim, squirting, cream pie, dumbification.

Eren Jaeger had never seen you like this.

Knee deep in the billowing haze of smoke emitting from the worn down joint resting comfortably between his fingers, you compliantly straddled his lap with a dazed simper on your face. No matter how hard you tried to mask it, the unpleasant fumes pricked your skin, causing the slightest tremble in your mouth and an uncomfortable feeling of tears welling up in your dilated eyes. But Eren was a natural, watching amusedly as you choked on your upcoming cough.

How did you even end up here?

You should’ve known not to agree to Eren’s proposal to work at his apartment instead of the library; but you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You obviously preferred to please people, and Eren happened to take notice of that the second he saw you squirm uncomfortably in your seat when your professor mentioned your unlikely partnership with him. Instead of asking to switch or maybe even work alone like the smart girl he assumed you were, you froze like a deer in the headlights and followed along.

Halfway through your work session, Eren pulled out a corroded lighter, lining it up with the small joint that sat slack in between his teeth. You didn’t say anything, opting to fold your hands in your lap and ignore what you just saw.

“You don’t smoke?” He rose a brow at your sheepish mannerisms. Just when he thought you couldn’t act any more innocent, you never failed to surprise him; this was just the cherry on top of the cake. He shrugged nonchalantly before igniting the stuffed tip with a hint of feigned disappointment in his voice. “Probably couldn’t stand it anyways.”

Poor you was so eager to please that you were unaware of the fact that you’d fallen right where he wanted you.

A tiny giggle escapes from your lips as you feel Eren’s smoke fan your face, the mixture of mint and seared weed making your nose scrunch up cutely. The same large frame glasses that made your doe eyes appear ten times bigger seemed to slide down your heat flushed face with every passing minute before finally stopping at the tip of your nose bridge. He takes the initiative to carefully pull them from your face and set them down nearby before placing his free hand on the curve of your waist.

“Gimme my glasses ‘ren…” You slur out, dragging your hips against the crease of his crotch with hopes that he’d fix them back on your face himself.

“You don’t need them.”

“Really?” You look up at him through your fluttering lashes, trusting every word that comes out of his mouth. At this point, it’s as clear as day to him that you currently don’t have a proper thought running through your head – too immersed in the new feeling of being high to care much about anything. He hums in response to your question, securing his unyielding grip on your waist and steadily grinding you onto his hardened crotch.

“Can I take another hit?” You breathe out.

A sigh doesn’t fail to escape from Eren’s lips as he gives you a worried look, running a calloused hand through his hair. “You want another one? I’m not sure you can handle that.” In reality, he’d pay to see the priceless expression on your face when you inhale too much and sputter out air – but he keeps that to himself.

“I can!”

Eren concludes that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you. He takes a drag of the nearly lifeless joint, accentuating it with a dramatic heave and holds your face in between his ring clad fingers before smashing his lips against yours, letting the haze drift into your mouth. He feels a sense of pride watching you capture the smoke and leisurely exhale it back in his direction with a playful giggle. He can’t help but think you look prettiest like this, slumped against his torso with blown pupils and a slightly ajar mouth, babbling incoherent nonsenses that would normally never leave those pretty lips of yours. Truthfully, he likes you stupid, pure and white hearted — leaving him with the perfect chance to corrupt and turn you into a cock hungry whore.

“How about that baby?” He coos, brushing the stray strands of baby hair out of your face. By now, the skirt you’re wearing is bunched up at your hips, putting your white panties right on display for his prying eyes. He hungrily palms at the fat of your ass, dragging you across his lap like a ragdoll.

“Don’t– don’t call me baby....’m not your baby Eren.” You shake your head while bringing your hands to his naked torso in an attempt to steady yourself. A loud whimper falls from your mouth as you instinctively jerk against his body; you were growing more sensitive by the second, hyper aware of the defined bulge straining against his pants.

“You don’t like that?” He quips teasingly. You can barely even process when he pulls you off of him and turns you around. The force is enough to put you on all fours, propping your lower half up for him to see the damped spot resting in the middle of your crotch. You swallow thickly, feeling his fingers dig back into your ass. Eren is unpredictable, and you learn this the hard way when his index finger innocuously dips beneath your panties and teases your puffy cunt. He groans as he drags your slick along your folds. “Do you prefer this instead? Yeah? Fuuuck, look how wet you are for me.”

“Feels good Eren…”

“Well would you look at that?” His voice is heavy with lust as gently tugs your panties to the side and watches his two fingers scissor your hole. “Getting off on my fingers like a fucking slut. I knew that little innocent shit you had going on was an act.”

“S-shut up! You’re so mean… hah–!” You can barely even come up with a sensible retort–his fingers feel like a foreign intrusion. You’d gotten yourself off before but his fingers were so much bigger than yours, dragging against your gummy walls and hitting usually unreachable places with each thrust. It’d be a lie to say that you weren’t enjoying this as much as the next person, mewling and whining for as much as you could possibly take, much to his pleasure.

“Mean? Oh you haven’t seen mean.”

Eren watches your face through a nearby mirror, basking in your dazed out expression and heavy lidded eyes. He knows that you need him by the way that you rut yourself back in a desperate attempt to fuck yourself; but you’ll never be satisfied with just that, so he takes it upon himself to help you. It’s hilarious, truly, watching you wiggle and move your hips in search of his retracted fingers; you usually never sought out what you wanted, yet here you were, practically begging for it.

You want to say something but the way Eren’s hands travel across the expanse of your body to shrug off your top forces the words bubbling up in your throat back down. It’s a laughable contrast, how his calloused hands fit around your soft curves and crevasses – you shouldn’t be doing this. Eren doesn’t seem to care too much, unclasping your bra and quickly tossing it to the side, taking a mound in hand and kneading it harshly.

“What are you doing ‘ren…” You ask with a strained voice, feeling his heavy tip leisurely drag along your folds, gathering slick before prodding at your constructing hole.

Fuck – he’s growing impatient, his tip an angry red with tiny beads of white smearing with your wetness. Eren’s unashamedly fixated on the difference between your tight cunt and his veiny cock. “Calm down baby, I’m gonna make you feel even better.” He murmurs, making sure to be gentle as he presses your upper half into the mattress – an ironic contrast to his plans to fuck you dumbber than you currently were.

Eren wastes no time in grabbing his cock by its base, sliding it into your hole. He spreads your ass, watching contently as it disappears into your puusy inch by inch. “Shit, your cunt looks fucking pretty taking me in, I love it baby.” It’s difficult for him to resist the burning urge to piston right into you and hear those pretty moans.

“So big...feels huge.” You’re not lying; you can barely get accustomed to the stretch, eyes widening at the feeling of every prominent vein brushing your fluttering walls.

“Aw, don’t tell me that you can’t take it?” He chuckles when you squirm around him, tiny whines falling from your mouth when he bottoms out. He stills himself inside of you, admiring how you frantically shake your head “no” – you’re trying so hard not to mess up and be good enough for him. “That’s my girl.” he marvels, pulling out to the hilt before languidly thrusting, hips rolling hard against your ass. The pace is agonizing to him; admittedly, he wants to hear you sob, and he’s come too far to stop now. Growing impatient, he gradually picks up the pace, quickly snapping into you and filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin slapping.

“Oh fuck, Eren–!” You moan, clinging to the sheets as he rammed into you, your juices coating his cock and spilling down your folds onto the bed. While you’re unable to see his face with the way his hand sits on your head, pushing you down even more, you can practically sense the grin on his face – so sweet that it's almost sinister.

Every thrust is harder than the last, sending you teetering forward as his pelvis juts against your bruising ass. You can barely contain your loud sobs, his cock was brushing your cervix – you could barely imagine how big he was.

“‘S good, s-so big!” You breathe out. God, you look pretty like this, splayed out beneath him with your back in an irregular arch and drool seeping out of your mouth to soil the fabric.

Eren leans down until he’s flush against your warm body, hands placed on both your sides and caging you in. His pace doesn’t let up as he brings his mouth to your ear, his hot breath that fans across your skin feeling like electricity flowing straight to your clit. “You’re gonna take it all, right? You’re gonna be a good slut and let me fuck you as I please– you want to please me dont you?”

“Yes daddy!” You aren’t even thinking as you wail, reaching out to hold one of his arms as he continued fucking into you. You’re way too gone to even register the way his hips momentarily falter.

He smiles wickedly at the new name you’ve given him–he always knew that you had it in you, but you just needed a little push. “Daddy? You’re so fucking nasty.” His words are so insulting and vulgar, yet they only leave you wanting more, clenching around his cock and sucking him back in. “I’m fucking you stupid and thats the first thing you call me.” He laughs at your needy stature, licking a stripe up your neck and biting at the soft skin.

“G-gonna cum – gonna cum on your cock daddy.” You whimper pitifully, feeling yourself closer to your edge as you become more twitchy against him.

“Go ahead and cream on my dick pretty girl, cum right on me.” His pace doesn’t let up, slipping right back into your sopping cunt and fucking your weak hole. The loud and long mewl that your let out when you reach your high is so erotic – pornographic, even. You claw your fingers into his skin as your body locks up, causing him to hiss from the sudden pain.

“You should be thanking me for giving you my cock.” He starts coldly before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you upright against his body to show you how slutty you look in the mirror in front of you. Your eyes are trained on the place where your bodies meet, the way his cock slips into your cunny with a loud squelch and the translucent ring of your slick around his girth. It’s safe to say that you can barely recognize yourself when you take note of your face; there's drool strung on the bottom half of your face, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and onto your swollen lips, and your tits are bouncing with every sudden motion.

Eren can’t help but smile cockily at his handiwork; you’re only listening to him, babbling small ‘thank you’s and ‘please’s. Your head is in a fog, unable to even process what you’d originally come here for, only focused on getting stuffed full by your project partner. He stretches his arm across your shoulder to bar you to his body as his thrusts become more frantic, balls rhythmically slapping up against your clit.

Your head lolls back against his neck and you’re able to look into his darkened eyes with nothing but adoration. “Love your cock daddy– fills me up!”

He could cum just at the sight of you, feeling you grind your hips in desperation. “Addicted, aren't you? You’d die for this dick without a second thought yeah?” Not even waiting for a proper response, he catches your mouth with his own, biting and tugging at your lips; he’s going to ruin cock for you to the point where you can only go back to him in order to feel this way – for real satisfaction.

His free hand dips down to your cunt, two fingers circling at your clit with the slightest amount of pressure. “Too much, too much! ‘M gonna cum again–!” You beg, desperately trying to move his hand away, but your efforts are to no avail – he’s shown you that he’s stronger than you, continuing his attack on your overstimulated bud.

“Shhh baby, take it like a good girl.” He coaxes; your cunt is too addicting for him to give up.

Your tightening walls milk him for all that he’s worth as he rutts into you at a mind-breaking speed and soon enough you’re tensing up again; but this time it feels different, eyes widening in surprise as you feel your juices squirt all over his cock and thighs, making a noticeable mess on his bed. “Daddy” is all that follows after your loud moan, slumping against Eren’s body like a fucked-out doll.

He knows that you can hold out, which is why he peppers kisses to your neck and jaw as his hips become more erratic against your worn out body. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” You don’t miss his moans as he pounds into you a few more times. You tiredly nod at his words as they all blur together into one incoherent mess.

“Gonna fill up your pretty cunny– shit.” He groans, stilling himself and shooting thick ropes of his load into your cunt, staining your walls white. He slowly slips out of you, muttering soft praises against your skin as he watches his cum languidly drip out of your abused hole. To say he’s satisfied with the way that you jerk and twitch is an understatement;

he thinks that you’re fucking stunning.

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot smut #eren yeager smut #snk smut #snk x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager x reader #tw.dubcon #tw.manipulation #tw.drugs #attack on titan smut

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

Note

idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

#survivors au #well adjusted five au #five actually has some social skills!#and an idea of what an actual parent looks like as well #klaus absolutely adores this version of five #who quotes vines and uses gen z slang with the best of them #five has been reliably informed that public education is worse than the apocalypse #but he's also pretty sure working with his family is worse as well #five: i have so much trauma lol #klaus: oh big same #vanya: mood #five is somehow the most well adjusted hargreeves #and the most responsible #he doesn't legally exist and he doesn't pay taxes but somehow he has his shit together #five showing up at rick's house: you don't know me but i know you in the future #rick: what the fuck #five: don't make me bring up bethany midler from highschool because you gave me so many embarrassing stories to convince yourself with #rick: okay okay i believe you and you are???#five: your son from the future lol what's up dad want to help save the world #five arriving back at the manor like: WHAT'S UP LOSERS RICK IS NOW YOUR DAD TOO BC GOD KNOWS Y'ALL NEED AN ACTUAL FATHER FIGURE #klaus calls rick a dilf and five kidney punches him hard enough that klaus can't even properly introduce himself #it's better for everyone that way #delores: 15 and ready to fuck someone up #delores: i'm not staying with this weirdo (diego) while you go off with my dad #five threateningly: don't make me bring up what really happened to dad's good suit in 2012 #delores: i will stay right here #rick: wait WHAT happened to my good suit #five: unimportant don't you want to save the world #long post #far tua long

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softboywriting · 3 years

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Meet The Parents | Billy Russo

Summary: You introduce Billy to your parents and it doesn’t go as well as you hope. [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] [Problematic Parents/Divorced] [Parents Fighting] [Language] [Flirting] [Flashback/Nightmare]

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is a follow up to my first fic Little Moments but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

---

The office is quiet, and has been for the whole day. Billy has been out at a client meeting since you got in. Anvil is becoming quite popular in the private military market, having taken on three new contracts in the last two weeks. You're proud of Billy, he works hard to win over his clients and offer top of the line service. As the primary contact for all contracts and placements, you've gotten busy too. More business means more expenses, and more employees to keep track of. You don't mind, it keeps you active and engaged. There is nothing more you hate than just sitting around staring at the wall or watching cat videos for the billionth time.

"Hey sweetheart."

You glance up from your work and see Billy closing the office door behind him. He's dressed up, black and grey patterned silk shirt, expensive black suit, the tailored jacket over his arm. He looks positively delicious if you do say so. Those shirts are the best thing you ever convinced him to wear.

"Hey yourself. How'd the meeting go?"

"Shitty." He sneers and tosses his jacket on his office chair. He begins unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up to his elbows. "The guy brought his daughter."

"Okay? What does she have to do with anything?"

Billy raises his eyebrows in an 'are you shitting me' expression. "His daughter is a model. Not naturally talented mind you, paid for by her daddy. Clearly he thought havin' her there would sway me into acceptin' the number he offered for the contract you wrote up. Like he's doing me a favor."

You stand and walk around the desk, eyes going up and down his chest. "You didn't do anything did you?"

"What kinda man do you think I am?" Billy walks you back against your desk, pinning you in with his hands on the top behind you. He drops his head to yours and stares at you with those dark endless eyes. "You think I'd fuck around?"

"I know you won't, you're too gone for me." You run your hands up his back and he arches against you. "Did she try?"

"She tried. Even sat on my lap."

"In front of her dad?"

"Mmmhmm." Billy drops his face to your neck and mouths at your skin. "I don't mind a little show and tell but even I got boundaries. Parental peepshows are off limits."

You laugh softly and he brings one hand against your lower back up to pull you against him. "Take it easy. You know the rules. No relationship stuff while I'm on the clock."

He groans, pulling his head back to look at you. "I need to touch you though. I don't want her lingering on me."

"I know." You step out of his hold and he lets his hand drag across your back as you escape his grasp. "Just another hour okay? I've gotta wrap a few things up."

Billy pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his shirt. "Why did I ever make these rules?" He sinks down in his chair and spreads his legs, lolling his head against the back. He really is such a tempting little tease. How could you resist a man like that? Truth be told it's hard.

You take a seat behind your desk and focus your eyes on the invoices on screen. "You made them because you want Anvil to remain professional and not a playground."

"Bullshit."

"Your bullshit."

Billy bites his lip and gives you that look. The one that says he isn't to be messed with, that he's gonna get what he wants no matter what. And oh it's so tempting to get up and go sit on his lap in that chair. It's always been a fantasy of yours. One you haven't gotten to full fill due to his rules. He's really only cockblocking himself.

"C'mere."

"No, Billy."

"C'mon, be bad. Break my rules."

"No! You're such a jerk!" You laugh and he chuckles playfully. "We have dinner with my parents after this anyway. I'm not breaking your rules and getting all messy before we go see my parents. You hear? Parents."

"Always such a good girl."

"You like it."

"Damn right I do." He pushes up out of his chair and crosses the office to cradle your head and press a chaste kiss to your temple. "I'm gonna go home and get ready. Anything you want me to lay out for you? I think you've got a few things at the apartment."

"The blue dress. I picked it up from the cleaners last week with a few suits. It should be in your closet."

"The one I bought you a while back for the client dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a little revealing for a parents dinner?"

You raise your eyebrows and he narrows his eyes.

"You're a monster." He presses his lips to your ear. "If you keep teasing me I'll have to put you in your place."

"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're askin' for." Billy kisses your cheek and steps away. "Playin' with fire will get you burned."

You smile innocently. "See you later."

"You're terrible." He goes to the door and stops, looking back once more. "But I love you."

"Love you too Billy."

"Ugh," he groans, slapping a hand over his chest. "Say it again."

"Love you?" You giggle and he acts even more dramatic, pretending to swoon against the door. "What are you doing?"

"Being you."

"Wh- you son of a bitch! Get out!" You throw your squishy stress ball at him and he cackles as he runs from the office. What a child.

_____________________

"Oh, this is your boyfriend?" Your mother asks in actual surprise. As if you weren't meant to have a man that looks like Billy Russo. Truth be told you had never dated anyone half as attractive, not to you anyways. "He's so...well dressed."

Billy takes your mom's hand and kisses it politely. "We're all well dressed here ma'am. You look lovely too."

"Thank you." She flushes and giggles.

Billy gives a warm smile and tugs you closer. His hand on your back is radiating heat, its comforting. He knows you're tense. This dinner will be a strain on your nerves and he had been warned how difficult your parents can be.

"Your father should be here soon. I told him not to be late." Mom says huffily, eyeing the doors to the restaurant. You've met up with her outside and you're currently waiting for your dad to arrive. Your parents have been split for ten years and it's been hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they had divorced when you were still a young child. Well, you like to think that anyways. They waited, held on to their shit until you were graduated and old enough to understand that some people don't remain in love.

Billy leans in and presses his lips to your ear. "Are your parents going to fight? This place is very nice, I don't want to cause a scene."

"It'll be fine. They can hold it together for a few hours. I hope. Just don't mention their personal lives. It's a sore spot for mom. Dad isn't single anymore."

"Gotcha."

"Sorry I'm late." You turn and see your dad walking towards you. "Some asshole parked his Rolls Royce just on the line and I hardly squeezed into the only spot open beside it."

Mom scoffs and rolls her eyes. She bites her tongue but you know what she would say. Some comments about his truck being too damn big and a gas guzzler.

Dad puts his hand out for Billy. "You must be the lucky guy!"

Billy takes it and smiles a beautiful, toothy, shit eating grin. "Billy Russo, the asshole who parked his Rolls Royce a bit close to the line."

The way Dad's face turns pale and then red with embarrassment makes the whole evening worthwhile up until then. "That's yours?"

"One hundred percent. Bought and paid for."

"That's a beautiful piece of machinery. Expensive."

Billy leans his head on yours. "I only go for the best."

"Well you know I-"

"Oh shut up already, let's go inside." Mom says and grabs your dad's arm. "Always babbling on about shit when we've got things to do."

"Y'know what-" the conversation fades as your parents head into the restaurant. You're glad. It is bound to be petty anyways. Always was with them. Bickering children they should be called.

"Relax." Billy says in your ear, hand traveling up and down your side. "I can win over your parents for one night."

"You could charm anyone into anything and I've seen as much. You're a silver tongued sn-"

Billy catches your jaw in a light hold and presses a kiss to your lips. Your hand slides up into his hair and he grins into the kiss. "Easy now. We've not even gotten seated yet."

"Your fault."

"Usually is."

____________________

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Dinner wasn't going so great and you had barely made it through an appetizer and drinks.

Your parents couldn't stop arguing, Billy was trying his best to charm them but apparently they're uncharmable, and you were left to play referee for your parents against each other or them against you and Billy.

It is a whole mess and you want to just leave, just walk out say fuck everything and go to Billy's apartment and go to bed. You haven't even had a chance to tease Billy like you were planning, hell, you've barely gotten a word in that wasn't defending him or fielding your parents insults they continuously hurdled over the table at one another.

The door rattles on your left and you clear your throat. "Occupied!" You shout and it stops.

It's a single use bathroom, not a multi-stall type set up. So the person outside would just have to wait until you were done having your crisis. Maybe not so fair to them but you'll be damned if you won't let yourself have a moment.

The handle turns and you back into the sink as the door opens. To your surprise it is Billy, not some worker with a key. "What the-"

"Your parents are insufferable. How the hell did you grow up with them? I mean I was in a group home and a few of the adults weren't great but holy shit they weren't my parents."

"I'm sorry."

Billy closes the door and shakes his head, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry for their actions. Never apologize for anyone but yourself."

"I knew this would happen. I just thought that maybe...I don't know...maybe they'd be different. Maybe they'd be proud of me, of you, so they would get along for two fucking hours."

"Sweetheart, you're nearly thirty, you're still seeking your parents approval?"

You laugh joylessly and bite the inside of your cheek. "You don't understand. You can't understand."

Billy brings your forehead to his lips and he rubs your back. He's always so affectionate with you, careful to hold and to love you like a man who never received it himself so he wants to make sure those he loves receives it tenfold.

"I understand seeking approval, but there is nothing you need approval for. You're an adult with a good job, a place to stay, an outstanding boyfriend with his own company. I'd say you're doin' alright honey."

You let out an actual little laugh, and he does too, bumping his nose against yours. "You're so full of yourself."

"You like that?" He bumps again, eyes on yours. "I said it to get you to giggle."

"You know it's a little true."

His lips meet yours in a warm tender kiss. "Confidence is sexy."

"It is."

"I could tell your parents there's a work emergency." He slides his hands over your ass and pulls you flush against him. "A real pain in the ass employee is causin' trouble."

You smile into his lips and he smiles back. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He chuckles softly and cradles your head to his chest. "You can't choose how your family acts. Remember that. It's up to you to decide how you act, and if you want to deal with them."

"I know."

"Do you?" He runs a hand over your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands briefly.. "I know it's different for you, I can distance myself easier since I didn't grow up with proper parents. Maybe I'm cold, or indifferent but-"

"Stop." You dig your fingers into his side and he falls quiet. "Don't compare your childhood to mine. It's not fair. I don't want you to begin resenting me because-"

Billy gives you a look that is all warning and it silences you instantly. "I would never resent you for having parents and growing up like a normal kid should. I ended up in a shit situation and that is no one's fault but my own mother's. She is the only person I will ever resent." He softens, leaning in and kissing your nose. "Do you wanna ditch or go try to make something of this dinner?"

You swallow harshly and look at the door. Ditching would be easy, but the repercussions would be insufferable. Your mom would never stop calling about it, your dad would hold it over your head forever. It would be more of a disaster to leave than it would be to stay. No matter how valid the reason.

"We'll stay. I can try and redirect the conversation."

"That's my girl." He pats your cheek. "Proud of you."

"T-thanks."

Billy takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with his. "I'll take care of it. I can get them to shut up."

"If you can get a word in."

"I have my ways. Don't worry."

You cut him a look as you exit the bathroom and head for the table. "What are you-"

"Don't worry." He presses against your ear and guides you down to sit at the table.

Your parents are still bickering.

"Hey!" Billy says firmly with his hands on the table, not a yell, but enough to get his point across and the attention of your parents but not many others.

"Yes?" Mom asks surprisingly quietly.

Billy smiles and it's all venom, beautiful venom. You know this look, these eyes, that deadly grin. He isn't fucking around and the way he can express that so physically subtly astounds you. "The arguing is going to stop. The petty comments are going to stop. We're going to sit here and have conversations like adults, or you can leave and your daughter and I will have a nice dinner."

"Wh-" Dad starts but doesn't get any further.

"I am not goin' to repeat myself." Billy stands up straight and raises his eyebrows, daring your parents to say another word. The tension is thick, you can hardly breathe. Never did you think you'd have to witness Billy being like this with your parents of all people.

You grab a roll from the basket at the center of the table and pick at it. "How's work been, Dad?"

Dad clears his throat. "Good, busy. People always need an electrician for something. I did a school the other day, new classroom."

Billy sits beside you and lays his hand on your leg, thumb stroking your skin gently. He leans in and whispers "I told you don't worry." He turns his attention back to your parents. "So you're an electrician? Contractor?"

"Yeah, I work for Mundun Electric. Union job, pays well."

"And you?" Billy looks to your mom.

"I'm a medical receptionist. Clarke Center Hospital."

Billy smiles. "That's incredible. You're both hardworking people it seems, I see where she gets her work ethic. She's incredible, the best I've hired for Anvil."

You chew your lip and look down, flushed. "You're just being nice."

"I'm serious." He holds your hand up and kisses your knuckles. "I admire your dedication and the hard work you've put into making Anvil a success. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. Probably buried in paperwork."

"So you work for Billy? That's how you met?" Mom asks and you nod.

Dad raises his eyebrows.

"Dad, don't start."

Billy cuts a glare at your dad. "Don't start what?"

"Nothing." Dad says nonchalantly, eyes going to somewhere else in the room. "I just think inter-workplace relationships are never a good idea."

You squeeze Billy's hand and he just smiles oh so sweetly. "Dad, it's fine. Billy and I are both professionals. If things don't work out we'll make it work for the sake of the company."

"He'll fire you and you'll be looking for a job yet again." Mom pipes up, rolling her eyes. "See, things like this are why you can't hold a career."

"Mom!"

"Alright." Billy says firmly. "We're done here. Ma'am, sir, with all due respect you can both go fuck yourselves."

"Excuse me!?" Dad bellows and your mom looks flustered at the use of language. "You have no right-!"

"Actually I do." Billy stands and guides you to stand with him. "I'm going to love and care about your daughter the way she should be. You two are self absorbed monsters who should have never had a child, let alone forced the one you had to live through a loveless marriage. The fact that you cannot manage to sit here and have dinner with her and myself, which mind you has left quite a first impression, is sad and disappointing."

You grab his hand and you're shaking. You don't even know what to say. It's like Billy is telling them everything you've wanted to for your whole life.

"C'mon sweetheart." He puts his arm around you and guides you out of the restaurant. You know there are people staring but it's fine. It's over now.

"I'm s-"

"Uh uh." Billy puts his finger to your lips. "No apologies. Here." He shrugs his suit jacket off and puts it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"You wanna get out of here before your parents come out. Go get some burgers or something?"

You can't help the little smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Pete's Diner?"

"Anywhere you like." He takes your hand and walks you toward the parking area. "Fuck this fancy bullshit anyway. I never understood the food they serve."

"Me neither. A hamburger and fries with a big ole pickle is good enough for me."

Billy opens the passenger door for you. "You're a girl after my heart y'know that?"

"I think I already have it."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. "That's for damn sure."

_____________________

Midnight you wake up crying. A nightmare, a reoccurring one as it would be. Though it is more of a twisted memory than a nightmare in actuality.

You are always around seven or eight years old, it's nighttime, you've been in bed for an hour and still not asleep. Downstairs your parents are awake, their disembodied voices float through the old floors. Their voices grow louder, shouting, screaming at each other. A glass shatters and you crawl under the bed. Footsteps come closer in the hall, heavy and slow.

The dream shifts. You're not a child but an adult. Under the bed is smaller now, the footsteps grow louder. The door opens and you scream when your foot is grabbed and you wake up crying.

"What's wrong?" Billy asks, sitting up in bed abruptly and turning on the light, hand instinctively going for the nightstand where you know a weapon is stored.

You had stayed the night, both of you decided it was best to stay together while you decompress from your tragic meet the parents dinner. Didn't matter in the end though. The nightmare still came.

"Just a bad dream. I'm going to get some water." You push back the blankets and plant your feet on the cold floor. It's a nice shock to the system, reminding you this is reality.

Billy's arm snakes around your waist. "Care to share with the class?"

"It's nothing. Just a nonsense dream about old crap."

"Your parents?"

"Yeah. Um, just a dream." You yawn and pat his hand on top of your stomach. "I need water."

"Grab me a bottle?"

"Sure."

You end up in the kitchen, looking out at the New York skyline. His place is so beautiful. It's luxurious, and you can't get used to it. You lean on the island and sip a bottle of cold water from the fridge. You don't think you belong here.

Then the dream comes creeping back in. Rationally you know that dream is never going to become a reality. Not with Billy around.

"Hey."

You look back to see Billy walking in with his sleep pants low on his hips. He scrubs a hand over his face before meeting you at the island.

"Sorry, I just got caught up in the view."

"It s'okay." His arms wrap around you and he presses his face to your neck. "I love you." He whispers softly into your skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm."

You thread a hand into his hair and scratch at his scalp. It elicits a hum that's nearly a purr against your back. "Do you ever feel like you don't deserve this? Like everyday you can't comprehend that you're loved."

"I didn't think I could fall in love before I met you, yeah. I'm familiar."

"Oh."

"Wasn't expecting that?" He chuckles, flexing his fingers against your tummy.

You shake your head and he kisses along your jaw. "Billy, stop," you giggle as his short beard tickles your skin.

"No way." He starts walking you back away from the island counter and toward the bedroom. "I've got a disease and if I don't kiss you all the time I'll definitely succumb to it."

The two of you tumble onto the bed and he straddles your hips, mouthing at your neck and chest relentlessly.

"It's three in the morning. We need to go back to sleep."

Billy hums and settles on top of you, nose in your hair. "Sleep is for the weak."

"Then I'm weak." You trail a hand up his back, fingers flitting over his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft, so warm. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"Being here when I had a nightmare."

"Of course." Billy pets your hair, stroking it down against the pillow. "I've suffered my share of them alone. I'm glad you were here so you weren't."

"Me too."

"Go to sleep." He kisses your cheek and rolls off to the side. His arm curls around you and pulls you close. "Love you."

"Love you too."

_____________________

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

#billy russo #the punisher series #the punisher #the punisher netflix #billy russo x reader #ben barnes characters #the punisher fic #billy russo fic #billy russo fanfic

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demowogorgon · 3 years

Text

The Art of Breathing

Summary: In which Julie chases you down and fucks you in the woods. CW for Primal/Prey play and Knife Play. Reader is completely gender-neutral but has a vulva.

Pairing: Julie Kostenko/Reader (Established Relationship)

Word Count: 2537

If there’s one thing you know about Julie, it’s that she loves the thrill of the chase. The pounding of blood and adrenaline flowing through her veins like a dam newly burst is a feeling like no other, and it's one that she looks forward to in every trial. But it’s even more exhilarating when the chase leads to you: or perhaps, when the chase starts with you.

The cabin is eerily quiet as you pass through the threshold, save for the sound of howling wind gliding off and around the rotting wood. It’s cold and quiet, absent of the joy, jokes and laughter that usually echoes through their halls.

It’s strange to wander around like this. You know that you can’t really be hurt outside of the trials - at least, not permanently - but you still feel the lightest of shivers rack your body as the unsettling atmosphere starts to set in. For a moment you consider turning back and returning to the campfire for the hour, rather than wait for your friends to return.

“Are you gonna come in and sit down, or are you just letting the cold air in?” Julie’s voice echoes from the shadows, making you jump out of your skin. Only then do you notice the edges of her boots swinging from the armrest of a plush chair, illuminated faintly by the dim moonlight that filters through the dilapidated wood. You smile, finally at ease and kicking the door shut with your foot, crossing the room in great strides. The wood creaks underneath your excited footsteps in the most familiar way that makes your heart soar, like a mother welcoming her child home. In another life you would have found the creaking and groaning wood eerie, like a scene out of a horror movie, but perhaps it’s the fond memories that you’ve shared at the abandoned resort that’s made the sound pleasant to your ears?

Julie smiles up at you as you walk around the armchair, kicking her feet off of the armrest and opening her arms for you. You walk closer, draping your arms around her neck while she drums her fingers along your waist. Her cropped brown hair is messy, and you card your fingers through her hair with a chuckle.

“No fire?” You ask.

She hums, pulling you into her lap rather than responding. You’re vaguely aware that the front of her pants isn’t flat as you lean in to kiss her, and you roll your hips experimentally. Your suspicions are confirmed when she leans back with a mutter.

“They just left, you know,” she murmurs, “Everyone should be out for another hour, at least.”

“Yeah?” you smile, leaning back in for another kiss. But you’re stopped when she winds her hands through your hair, pulling you back and drawing a hiss from your lips. The telltale click of a switchblade makes your heart race, although not unpleasantly so. Your eyes follow its path as she brings it up slowly to your cheek, dragging it down delicately past your neck and over your sternum. She makes no marks, but the cold blade leaves electric jolts flying through your body. She releases her hold on your hair, instead resting her newly-freed hand over your thigh. Part of you wants to move, to rock your hips into hers, but the reminder of the sharp blade keeps your hips in check.

“Are you gonna behave?” She all but purrs, flipping the blade and dragging it back up to your neck.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I’ll be good.”

“Good. I think…” she pauses, tapping the handle of the knife gently, “that I’d like to chase you tonight. Would you like that?”

You’re more than familiar with the game, and you can’t help the excited whine that claws its way from your lips at its mention. You hum affirmatively, resisting the urge to nod as the blade presses into your skin.

She smiles, revealing her all-too-sharp canines as her eyes darken in the pale moonlight. She taps the blade again before applying more pressure, peering at you through her eyelashes. “Use your words,” she says. Her voice lifts a fraction, teasing you with a grin. You fight the urge to swallow, heat rushing to your face like a dam newly burst.

“Yes,” you repeat.

She chuckles, letting the pressure off with a smile. “Always so eager,” she coos. She closes the blade with a dull “click” and places it on the arm of the chair, placing her other hand on your thigh. Her hands roam up and down your thighs, and you take the opportunity to lean in once more. The kiss she leaves on your lips is chaste, and you know not to push the boundaries any farther.

One last squeeze to your thighs, pleasant as it may be, coaxes you out of her lap. The silence is deafening as she stares you down like a hungry lion, eyes dark yet playful. Her tongue darts between her lips subconsciously, and it’s embarrassing just how hard you fight to suppress the urge to lean down for yet another kiss. You're so focused on her lips and the look in her eyes that you almost miss the words that flow out of her mouth, lips parting with a smile.

“Run.”

And just like that you’re out the door, rushing into the woods and frantic to abuse whatever headstart she feels like giving you. Your hands scrape against the rough bark of the trees as you run, peeling around one section of the woods before crossing to the other side in an attempt to make your tracks more complex, more confusing. The branches whip against your arms, drawing blood as you dart through the densest areas of the forest, and the air stings as it slaps against your new wounds. You’re not sure how much of a headstart you’re being allowed, but you’re determined to use every second of it. Your lungs burn as you push yourself further and further, leaping over fallen trees and ducking under larger branches like a frantic deer escaping a predator.

That feeling is only heightened as you hear another set of footsteps join your own, but your movements are fluid and practiced as you bound through the dense woods. The supernatural, perpetually-nighttime air is ice-cold in your lungs, but it only serves to exacerbate the burning ache that grows within them. You zigzag through the trees, hoping to throw her off enough to make more distance, but the thudding of her boots seems to come from every direction as you run.

Your only mistake was attempting to pass through a clearing, and you realize it the moment you feel her body slam into yours. You push yourself off the ground, kicking as you try to get away. And for a moment you succeed, rising halfway to your feet before she grabs you by the ankle and pulls your body back with a ‘zip’ along the grass and snow. Your struggle ceases for a moment as she rolls you onto your back, climbing onto you and straddling your hips with her knees pressing down onto the backs of your hands. You try to pull your hands out, to possibly push back and prolong the chase, but you stop the moment she pulls out her hunting knife, slamming the blade into the dirt above your head with a force that seems to shake the world. And in that moment the world stops, rocked by the sheer force of metal piercing through the earth.

“Caught you,” she breathes. The longest strands of her hair hang down from her face, chest heaving with the exertion and adrenaline that comes with her favorite game of chase. Her sepia eyes glint like the cat who caught the canary as she catches her breath, sweat rolling down her exposed arms and disappearing under her black tank top. She leans up, carding her hand through her hair once she’s sure that you’re not going to attempt another escape. The thick and endless woods are silent, save for your shared breaths and the heart that hammers endlessly in your ears. You swallow, eyes tracing the glints of her canines as she smiles down at you.

Your breath catches in your throat as her hand makes its way up your shirt, lingering at the lift of your chest before pushing up and tweaking your experimentally. And oh, the whine that claws its way from your lips is equal parts sinful and shameful, the chase having lit each and every sense on fire. Your body feels like it’s burning, and god how you ache to have her hands on you. She chuckles at your sensitivity but wastes no time, taking her knees off of your hands and undoing the buckle of your belt to pull your pants and briefs away from your body.

And just like that she’s on you, with her teeth on your neck and hand between your legs. Her fingers dip into your natural slick before darting back up to your clit, twisting and pulling at a pace that leaves stars floating in your vision.

“Fuck, Julie, please,” you babble mindlessly, “Please, I need it-”

“Use your words,” she coos.

“Please, I need you inside, please, please,” the words tumble out of your mouth, voice pitching as you buck against her hand. You hardly even recognize the words as they tumble out of your mouth, too desperate to even think straight.

She pulls away from your neck with a hum, drawing your gaze. Her eyes are dark, almost teasing. “I won, didn’t I?” Her voice is cocky as she speaks, the corners of her mouth lifting up in a smirk. “I think that means I get to choose.”

But she dips her fingers into your heat regardless, curling and fucking inside you in the way that leaves your legs shaking. Her palm presses against your clit, rubbing against it each time she pistons her fingers out of you. You can feel your wetness dripping down her hand, and you revel in the way that her breath shakes. She hums, sighing quietly as she gazes down at you - helpless and needy. She rocks back on her heels and returns her other hand to your clit, and you practically sob at the sensation. It’s not long before you’re shaking, the telltale wave of heat zipping through your body and the coil in your abdomen snapping. You come with a cry, unable to suppress the arch in your back or the gasp that tears its way through you.

The soft moan of your lover makes your cheeks flush and she dips down to lick up all that you have to give, holding your hips down with her arm as your body instinctively tries to squirm away.

She hardly gives you a moment to breathe once she comes up, maneuvering you onto your hands and knees. The dirt is cold against your chest, and it’s a mind-numbing contrast to her warm hands as they travel along the dip in your spine and back to your ass. And then she’s pressing you back down again, digging her palm into the valley between your shoulder blades. The noises that follow are a blur - the clinking of her belt, the shucking of her pants, the clicks of a cap. But before you can even breathe, you feel the head of her favorite cock pressing at your entrance.

Each press into your sex leaves you breathless, the ridges of her strap leaving you with stars in your vision. Her grip on your hips is tight enough to leave bruises, and you can’t tell if the whine escaping from your throat is from the strength of her hands, or if it’s because of the way her strap is stretching you, filling out any bit of room you’ll allow. Her breath trembles before she laughs under her breath, and you feel a surge of pride in knowing that it’s because of you.

Your nails dig into the earth as she bottoms out, nerves still reeling from your previous orgasm. You whine at the fullness, prompting a chuckle from her.

“You really are just a dumb little prey animal, huh?” she laughs, “And you’re gonna take all that I have to give, understood?”

You nod rapidly, babbling half-broken yeses and pleads, far too gone to form coherent sentences. You’re vaguely aware of the way you’re moving your hips back against her strap, begging for more movement, more friction, more anything-

And oh, you’re damn close to praising every god under the sun when she starts moving your hips, rocking into your oversensitive hole. Her moans mix with yours as the silicon rocks back into her own clit, and you’re a babbling mess as she pulls you up by the throat, pulling you flush against her chest as she rocks into you relentlessly. Her mouth returns to your neck and shoulder, sucking dark marks into what little space isn’t covered by her hand. Her teeth leave deep indentations, canines threatening to break through your skin in a way that leaves you panting and whining - although whether you’re begging for more or less, you can’t seem to tell. Her mutterings of praise and adoration become background noise as she rocks into you, and each sensation - the way she’s fucking into you, the sting of her bites, her hand on your clit, the feeling of her fingers digging ever so slightly into your neck and instilling the most euphoric sense of lightheadedness - sends you shaking and coming with a cry that would rival the deafening call of an angel from heaven.

You suppress the urge to whine when she pulls out of you, instead choosing to wrap your arms around her neck as she pulls you flush toward her chest once more. Your heart still pounds as you come down from the high, heavy thrums pounding in your ears.

Your voice is dreamy when you find the words to speak, looking softly at her bright brown eyes. “Hey,” you greet.

“Hey,” she laughs. She cards a single hand through your hair before placing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. You smile and return the gesture, humming at the softness of her hair.

The next few moments together are tender as you coax each other into half-modesty, reclothing one another with quiet laughter and gentle jokes. And before you can react she’s sweeping you off your feet, twirling you around as she carries you back to the cabin. And in this world of darkness and uncertainty, everything seems to fall into place - even if only for a moment.

Your feet dangle as she carries you back to the little lodge, arms wrapped loosely around her neck.

“Hey baby?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

She laughs obligingly before planting a kiss to your lips. When she pulls back she scrunches her nose at you, sticking her tongue out playfully.

“One more?”

Again, she obliges.

“More?”

It’s not long before she’s twirling you around, placing goofy little kisses anywhere she can. The forest is filled with laughter like no other, and you’re certain that this is where you were always meant to be.

#julie kostenko x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd x reader smut #the legion x reader #dbd the legion x reader #dbd julie x reader #dbd imagine

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

miche zacharias | lesson learned

HEYY MR MICHE ZACHARIAS 😻

tagging: @yeagerslut (i never shut up abt him to them), @izukine @mitsuluv @kuroosperiodictable @xenihime

edit: i’m so unmotivated to write and i’ve been busy sorry besties😫

warnings/notes: cursing, dark content, smut, stepcest, stepdad!miche, fingering, daddy kink, choking, overstimulation, squirting, lmk if i missed anything!

your legs quiver while you thrust your fingers in and out of yourself, cheeks warm like a fire. you’re trying to be as quiet as you can be with your stepdad in a room a few doors away. it’s a little hard with the way your fingers are rubbing against your sweet spot, though.

you let out a small squeak as the thrusting of your fingers start to hit their mark, teeth immediately clamping down on your bottom lip. you’re trying so hard and you’re getting there, to the edge of an orgasm. but before you can tip over said edge, you hear your door creaking open.

you pull your hands out of you, coming face to face with your brooding stepdad.

“sorry, i thought i heard a squeak or something…” miche says, eyes inappropriately glued to your glistening cunt.

you're way too mortified to move, the only thing you can manage to do is give a shaky nod. and it doesn’t get better whenever miche starts walking to you, fear flooding your body. you look up at him, thighs closing as he gets closer and closer to you.

“don’t be scared,” his voice is gruff, igniting small butterflies in your stomach, “i just wanna make you feel good. teach you how to do it correctly.”

your mouth hangs open with disbelief, but you give a shy nod at the realization that you do have a hard time having an orgasm on your own. he lets out a low hum, shuffling into your bed behind you and against your headboard with his legs spread. you can feel his hard-on against your back when he gathers you to his chest and spreads your legs.

his left arm has your shoulders in almost a chokehold position while his hand strokes your labia tauntingly. you buck your hips just a tad, earning a soft and throaty chuckle from miche.

his fingers rub slow circles into your clit, soft whimpers falling from your lips. his fingers slyly slip down to your slit, two of them slipping inside of your tight walls with the smallest tinge of a burn. you’re tearing up, your fingers were so tiny compared to his own and they’d never filled you up just as much as miche’s did.

“hurts!! hurts,” you cry while grabbing at the sheets, biting your lip in hopes of stopping the crying.

your pain does not deter miche however. his fingers scissor apart inside of you, slightly prolonging the pleasurable burn in you.

you feel so full, like something was in your throat rather than your pussy. it’s a nice feeling and it leaves you craving just a bit more.

“m-more… please,” you sniffle, hips wigging.

“no,” he grumbles into your ear, “you’re not ready.”

you give a shaky nod, instead asking him to make you feel good like he’d promised you. he lets out a huff into your hair, slowly rocking his fingers in and out of you to avoid any pain. however, this only leaves you frustrated along with whiny.

“miche, more, more please,” you hiccup, starting to rock your hips onto his thick fingers desperately.

he lets out a chuckle but indulges in your request, fucking you with his fingers with more fervor than before. you arch your back against miche’s front, crying out.

“f-fuck, daddy, more please,” you sob once miche stills his fingers, small smile lighting up his face.

“you gonna cum for daddy,” he asks lowly, jackhammering his fingers in and out of you whilst tightening his grip on you.

“ye—fuck! yes, yes!” you gasp, almost choke, when miche starts to rub the heel of his palm into your clit.

“go ahead, cum for daddy,” he says, and you do just that.

the orgasm that washes over you is intense, making your legs convulse and you sob out louder than anytime you had before.

“what do you say,” miche gropes at your chest with his free hand, absentmindedly rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“thank you, thank you, daddy,” you sniffle, eyelashes fluttering when he looks at you.

he gives you a soft kiss on your lips as a reward, starting to thrust his fingers into you once more. you whimper weakly against his mouth, pulling away to grab at his hand for it to stop.

“sensitive, ‘m too sensitive, daddy,” you dig your nails into his wrist, trying to resist the urge to grind against his fingers.

his other hand grabs you by your throat, slamming you against his broad chest with a choked gasp.

“you don’t get to decide when this is done,” miche says, “you’ve got one more in you, don’t you? you can cum once more time for daddy.”

you cry as his fingers thrust in and out of you vigorously, already starting to feel a knot in your tummy as his pace continues. his other hand still grips onto your throat, not enough to stop your breathing, but enough to hold you down. and it feels oddly good.

“daddy,” a drawn out moan falls from your mouth, eyes rolling back into your head while he continues.

“one more,” he mumbles, “one more till daddy can take care of you.”

you whine in response, legs clamping down around his hand. it doesn’t stop him though.

his thrusting becomes more erratic as his fingertip brushes against the spongy spot inside of you, leaving you with a mouth hung open from your moans.

miche, once again, rubs the heel of his palm against your puffy clit. you scream aloud, drool falling from you lip and down to your jaw while you aimlessly start grinding your hips on miche’s fingers.

“daddy! gonna cum, gonna cum,” you squeeze your glossy eyes shut, legs almost flailing about against his hand.

miche fastens his speed, an odd feeling sneaking up into your gut.

“thank you! thank you, daddy! thank you,” you babble frantically, squirting all over miche’s rough hands.

miche hums against your hair, pulling his fingers out of you to rub your clit to help prolong your orgasm. you squeal, hips bucking wildly.

when miche decides that enough, he brings his fingers up to his lips. he gives a single sniff followed by a satisfied hum then dips the fingers into his warm mouth.

after this, you don’t think your stepdad is all that scary.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #sorrels.darkcontent👛#miche zacharias #mike zacharias #mike aot #miche aot #mike x reader #miche x reader #tw: stepcest

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Meant To Be // G.W.

Request: Hi! Could you do a George x Reader where he asks her to teach him to dance for the yule ball, because he wants to impresses somebody else, but then they ✨fall in love✨, maybe they didn't know each other before this for that extra awkwardness? Thank you 💕 - anon

A/N: This is so utterly self indulgent and heavily inspired by that one scene from Anastasia. Dimitri was my first love, not even gonna lie to you all. Also, I am the furthest thing from a dancer so if I have explained anything wrong in this, I am so sorry! Despite that, I hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: she/her pronouns, pining, feelings, emotions, dancing, mentions of food, feelings of sadness, very very light angst. THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING!!

Word count: 4.1k

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry had many traditions that dated back to the time of the four founders; the houses and their competition, the Quidditch tournaments, but the one that excited the entire student body had to be that of the Yule Ball.

The Yule Ball accompanied the Triwizard Tournament – a competition held between the magical schools of Europe to promote cooperation and boost friendly relations between students. From the very announcement of the Triwizard Tournament, the student body of Hogwarts became more focused on the Yule Ball and what to wear rather than the dangers posed by the trials being faced by their fellow students.

“The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the other houses for over ten centuries. I will not have you, in one night, besmirch his name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons,” McGonagall’s voice calls out across the hall; her eyes steadily meeting every single gaze of the students sat around her.

Those in the hall seem to cower under her scrutiny; the power that she wields over this house being enough for every student in Gryffindor to try their best to impress the head of their house.

George has very little faith in himself at this point. A master prankster, and secretly one of the smartest wizards in the school, he has little talent when it comes to dancing. As he watches his youngest brother take to the floor with the head of Gryffindor, George feels something close to dread settle like lead in his stomach.

He would need help, and he would need it fast, especially if he wanted to ask Margot Banbridge to the ball. Margot – the girl who had caught his attention at the beginning of the month with her secret smiles and wide blue eyes. George so desperately wanted to be the one to take her to the Yule Ball, but then again, so did many of the other lads in the year. George needed to stand out and being able to dance would be the perfect way to do so.

-------------

The common room is loud that very evening. All students talking about the upcoming ball and the lessons completed today. Ron’s face was still red from his dance with McGonagall; he would never live this down. However, for now, George wasn’t too concerned on joking with his brother, but rather how he was going to solve the predicament he finds himself in.

“What do I do, Fred?” George pleads to his twin, “I have no idea how to dance!”

Fred laughs, “Can’t help you there, mate. I’m just as clueless as you.”

George groans; resisting the urge to shove his face into a cushion and wallow in self-pity. If he didn’t know how to dance, how could he impress Margot?

“Talk to (Y/N),” Hermione offers, absentmindedly turning the page of the heavy hardback laid in her lap, “She dances as a hobby. She might be able to help you, George.”

“Do you think she would?” George asks, worry niggling the back of his mind. He had so rarely spoken to you before despite being in the same house, “We’ve never really spoken before.”

Hermione nods, “I think she would. She’s always been kind to me when I’ve asked her for help.”

George smiles; nodding at his younger brother’s friend. “Alright,” He decides, “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

--------------

You could feel his gaze burning a hole into the back of your head. All morning, in every class your shared with the Weasley twin, his eyes had rarely left the back of your head. By morning break, it had started to get on your nerves. By lunch, you were more than ready to accost the redhead and demand the reasoning behind this newfound attention he seems intent on giving you.

Pausing outside the Great Hall, you move to one side to let younger Gryffindor’s pass. Out of the corner of your eye, you see George pause, turning to his twin to look as if he wasn’t just following you for the sake of it.

“Weasley!” You shout. George jumps; not out of terror, but out of being caught ogling so openly. Fred laughs as he leaves his twin to talk to you. George rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “(Y/N)… fancy seeing you here.”

You roll your eyes, “What do you need?”

“What? What makes you think I need something from you?” George questions; slightly affronted at your sudden jump to his needing of something, even if it was right.

You place your hands on your hips; shooting him an unimpressed look, “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had in our whole seven years of education so it’s safe to say you want something from me. That, and the fact that you’ve been burning a hole into my head all morning so what do you need, George?”

George sighs; running a hand through his too long hair, “Hermione said you would be able to help me.”

Your face softens at the mention of the bright witch; you had a soft spot for the younger girl, her knowledge and thirst for witchcraft something to be found as inspiring. “What did Hermione say?”

“That you dance as a hobby and that you might be able to teach me.”

“Hermione is right on both counts. I do dance, and I am able to teach you,” You state, “But why do you need to be taught, George?”

George leans closer to you; his voice dropping to a whisper as he confesses, “I want to ask Margot Banbridge to the Yule Ball.”

“Ah,” You sigh, “So it’s all for one night with a girl.”

George frowns, “It’s for more than one night. Hopefully something will start after the Yule Ball, but I need to be able to impress her first and not step on her toes.”

A small smile graces your face as George struggles to get through the sentence without blushing. “Meet me every Saturday in the Room of Requirement. I’ll teach you how to dance.”

“You will?” He asks; hope shining in his voice.

“I will, but I’m doing this to protect the poor girl’s toes, Weasley,” You state sternly; your smile lingering at the sweetness of the redhead.

George nods solemnly, “And it’s a service you shall be recognised for. Thank you, (Y/N).”

Without helping it, a smile crosses your face. Grabbing your bag, you hoist it up on your shoulder, “Room of Requirement on Saturday at 10am, Weasley. Don’t be late.”

-------------

By 10am on Saturday, George can only be described a bundle of nerves. He had barely made it through breakfast; Fred teasing him all the way through it as Ron and Harry laughed along with him. The only support he found was in Hermione who seemed genuinely pleased that he had asked for help. George sent her a small smile as he managed half a piece of toast before rushing from the Great Hall; frantic about not wanting to be late for his first lesson with you.

His hands shake as he walks past the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, thinking of you and your whereabouts. The door appears after his third walk past and George hurriedly tugs open the door before he can talk himself out of it.

The room in which you have conjured reminds George of the Hall in which McGonagall had taught her first and only dance lesson. However, you’ve conjured a whole wall of mirrors that have a bar running across the middle.

George pauses in the entryway as the large wooden door slams shut behind him. The noise still hasn’t alerted you to his presence as you fiddle with a record player, a small collection of vinyl’s laid out on the small table. He watches you twiddle with the settings; the volume dial and checking that the needle is secure before turning to survey the room.

You jump when you spy George standing by the door. You greet him with a large smile, beckoning to him with an outstretched hand, “Come on in, George, I don’t bite.”

George laughs despite himself; stepping further into the large room. “What is this place?” He asks.

You turn around; arms stretched wide as you explain, “This is what the dance studio back home looks like. It’s where I spend all my time when I’m home for the holidays, so I bring it here when I can.”

“It’s wonderful,” George comments; breathless at the sheer amount of detail and personality personified by the room. He barely knows you, yet he realises he’s standing in an incredibly personal room that you’ve trusted him with. He feels honoured that you’ve put this much trust in him already.

You smile at him in thanks before turning your attention back to the vinyl’s littering the small table. You tap your fingernails against the table as you sift through the records, trying to decide which would be best to start with.

It takes a moment or two, but eventually you settle on a vinyl catering to classical music. You turn to George, holding the cover up for him to see much to his dismay, “The first few dances will be to instrumentals I’m afraid, so it’ll be classical for now.”

George frowns, but he nods, nonetheless. He’s never been a fan of classical music; not understanding the feelings that could be evoked from it. He needed lyrics in order to feel something; he needed to hear the pain or joy in the singer’s voice for him to feel the true extent of the song.

“First things first, show me what you think a hold looks like.”

George raises his arms; only feeling slightly foolish as his right arm stretches out and his left arm curls around an invisible body. His left splays across an invisible back, and he watches you appraise him.

“Am I okay to touch you?” You ask; not wanting to make him jump as you start grabbing his arms. At the nod of his head, you start to feel his framework, checking for where it lacks in definition.

It takes the better part of fifteen minutes to explain why his frame is essential to the dance when George believed that it would be his footwork that solely mattered, but by the end of your rant, he understands it all a lot better.

Then you move onto the footwork. Explaining to George that spending every minute of the song staring down at his feet was going to cause more issues than anything. You can’t help but laugh slightly each time he steps on your foot; he apologises with such sincerity that it’s hard not to forgive him either though you know your feet will be bruised tomorrow. However, as the song finishes and the needle begins to click onto empty record, you feel that George has what it takes to become a good enough dancer to woo Margot.

Breaking the hold, you rush to the record player, lifting the needle from the record and setting it to one side. “Tell me about Margot, George. Why her?” You ask as you pat your face down with a towel and grab a bottle of water, offering another to George.

George shrugs, taking the offered water bottle, “She’s gorgeous, and she’s ridiculously talented in Charms and Transfiguration.”

“Huh,” You comment.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” You reply, shaking your head with a smile George couldn’t define, “I didn’t think you would favour brains over looks for some reason, but you’ve surprised me.”

“Have you got a date?” He asks; curiosity getting the better of him.

You shake your head, “No date, but I am going to the ball with a group of my friends. It’ll be a good night; I’m looking forward to it.”

“It will,” George echoes; mind faraway, to a night in the future where he grabs and keeps the attention of Margot.

“All we need to do now if get you ready for it. You’ll be a pro in no time, Weasley.”

“You think?”

“I don’t think, I know,” You gloat, a smile crossing your face, “If we continue to meet every week until the ball, you’ll be waltzing Margot into a tizzy.”

George barks out a laugh at your words, heading for the door, “I’ll see you every Saturday then.”

“Every Saturday,” You echo as George leaves. You shake your head; vaguely wondering about the outcome of these lessons.

--------------

Two weeks into the lessons and a friendship forms between yourself and George. He was so enthusiastic; he was happiness personified. It was hard not to find yourself caught up in his retellings of pranks he was behind, or stories of being at home over the holidays. He had a knack for storytelling; punctuating in the right places and creating a set up that had your sides hurting from laughing so hard.

You find yourself sitting with his friends more – at meal times and in the common room; getting to know the rest of the golden trio other than Hermione, and finally meeting Fred Weasley.

“So you’re the one who’s been teaching our Georgie how to dance,” Fred states; mischief in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“I am,” You comment, smiling politely, “He’s doing well, if you wanted to know.”

Fred grins, reaching for the jar of orange juice in the centre of the table, “I don’t doubt it.”

George rolls his eyes at the small conversation taking place between you and Fred. You smile at his reaction, but also at the blind faith placed in George by his twin brother.

“You should have seen him the other night, (Y/N),” Fred cackles, “He was practicing some footwork, stating that he needed to get it right before your lesson.”

“You weren’t?” You ask George; delighted in the blush staining his cheeks.

“I was,” He admits shyly, “But it was that really tricky part that I couldn’t get last time.”

“That’s adorable, Georgie,” You coo; reaching over to pinch his cheek. He bats your hand away with a laugh but keeps hold of your fingers for a tad longer than he should have, enjoying your attention and the sound of your laugh.

“How did you get into dancing?” Ron asks; voice curious as he munches on a piece of toast.

“It was something my mum signed me up for when I was four years old and it grew from there.”

“Do you mainly dance ballroom?” Hermione asks; eyes bright as she basks in the happiness to have her older friend sit with her usual friends.

“Not just ballroom,” You state, “I tap dance too as well as some ballet.” At their wide eyes you backpedal, “My mum wanted me to have the grace and dexterity of a ballerina before she realised I much preferred the other two. I finished ballet when I was thirteen, but I still do the stretches,” You shrug, “They help with the warm ups for other dances.”

George grins; eyes darting between you and his friends, “What did I tell you? She’s a wonder.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re only calling me that because you feel guilty for how often you step on my toes.”

Fred snorts, “Does that often does he?”

George blushes; reaching for his drink. You shake your head with a laugh, “Not now. He did a lot in the beginning, but he’s much better now.”

George’s blushes deepens as the warmth of your words settles on your skin and he meets your eyes. The gaze holds; both of you forgetting you’re sat at a table with friends as you both smile softly at the other.

Someone clearing their throat has you breaking the gaze with George. Your face heats as you meet the interested stare of his twin brother; Fred’s eyes darting between you and George as if seeing something that wasn’t obvious for the two of you.

Conversation starts up again; Fred talking to George and Ron asking Harry about a piece of homework. As their voices gather around you, you give yourself a moment to come to terms with the feelings raging in your body. You let yourself have a single instant in which you wonder whether this friendship has developed into something more for you.

-------------

A week before the ball and you’ve accepted your feelings for the redhead. You’ve accepted that in just over a month, he’s not only formed a friendship with you, but he’s also gotten you to fall in love with him. At eighteen years old, the world tells you that you’re too young to know the meaning of the word, but what else could describe the way you feel when you look at him? What else could explain the racing of your heart when he meets you outside your classes, an arm ready to grab your bag?

At eighteen years old, the world expects you to know so much, but not your own mind. However, at eighteen years old, you know that you’re in love with George Weasley, and all from him asking you to teach him how to dance.

“What do you think? Ready to practice a waltz, George?”

He laughs lightly; the sound being music to your ears, “Let’s try a waltz.”

From the moment the needle meets the vinyl, George has his hold ready. You glide into it seamlessly; hands joining together as George begins to lead you through the one, two, three steps of the waltz.

Distantly, you hear the music sounding from your record player. Distantly, you hear your footsteps on the wooden floor, but all you can focus on is how good it feels to be in George’s hold. To have his hands on you; how warm they feel against your skin and just how much you want him closer to you.

He continues to lead you round the floor; his eyes not leaving yours as his grip on you becomes tighter. Your mind heads into overdrive; wondering how it would feel to have his hands on different parts of your body; how he would react if you leaned forward that little bit and kissed him.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy…” You murmur; whether it’s from the spinning or from the close proximity of George, you can’t tell.

“Kind of lightheaded?” George asks; a small smile on his face, “Me too.”

“Maybe we should…” You trail off; truly not wanting this moment to end as George pauses mid spin.

“Stop spinning? I think we should too.”

“We have stopped,” You say; refusing to drop the hold, refusing to leave him.

George shakes his head; his mind becoming clearer as he comes too from the daydream he found himself in as he spun you around the Room of Requirement.

Neither of you know how long you stand there; his hand on your waist and yours on his shoulder. Neither of you know how long your chests heave; from the breathlessness of the dancing, but also from the hormones and emotions flying about the room that neither of you are truly ready to address.

Stepping back - protecting your heart mainly - you drop the hold, moving off to the side where your bag waits for you. George opens and closes his mouth a few times; unable to find the words he wants to say, unable to comprehend the feelings coursing through his body this very minute.

Holding your bag to your chest, as if having a physical barrier between yourself and George will stop the cracking of your heart, you whisper, “I think you’re ready, George.”

“You do?” He asks. They aren’t the words he wants to say; they aren’t the words that are carved into his heart, mind, and soul, but they are what he says because he can see the look on your face, and he doesn’t know what to do.

You nod, trying your best to stave off the wobbling of your lip and the breaking of your heart until you’re back in your room. “Yeah,” You say; smiling weakly, “You’re ready, Georgie. Go get your girl.”

You leave him there; rushing from the room with the last of your broken heart trailing behind you. The tears begin to fall on your way back to the common room; unable to look anyone in the eye as you sprint to your room and throw yourself on your bed.

Hiding your face in your pillow, you barely repress the scream that’s been working its way out of your chest. The way your heart was cracking in your chest, you felt certain the whole school could hear it. You felt the fool; how could you not fall for him? How could you not fall for every aspect of him? You saw him at his most nervous and you saw him at his most confident; you saw every aspect of him, and your heart gave itself so willingly that you hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

It was too late. He was ready; he could waltz the night away with Margot and he would be none the wiser to your feelings. There was no need for him to know just how he made your heart race, or how he was the reason behind most of your smiles these days. He didn’t need to know how he featured in your daydreams; distracting you from classwork.

He didn’t need to know any of that because by the end of the Yule Ball, he’ll have wooed Margot and you’ll have returned to your dance studio alone.

-------------

The dance studio feels cold without him; as if in the sort time you had been teaching him, it had also gotten used to his warm presence and the light he exudes.

Following your old routine, you select a record and place it on the player. Setting the needle down, you roll your neck, stretching your muscles out as the first song begins to play.

Needless to say that while you lose your body to the music, the steps being second nature to you, you do not lose your mind. Your feet follow the steps, but your mind does not quieten as it flips through images of what George could be doing right now. How his hand would feel on small of Margot’s back; how his hand would clasp hers tightly as he leads her confidently around the dancefloor.

You hadn’t been able to attend the ball in the end. Too afraid of what you might see, and what you might feel. Too afraid to meet the eyes of those you now class a friends and see the pity reflected in their eyes as you realise that your feelings for the Weasley twin had been obvious to everyone but him.

You gasp as you catch movement in the corner of your eye; regretting leaving your wand so far away on the table. You hold a hand to your heart as you face whoever had found your room.

He stands just in front of the door; chest rising rapidly as if he ran to all the way here.

“George?” You question; automatically stepping closer to the redhead, your heart starting to sing at his very presence. Every part of you wants to reach for him, but the logical side of you makes you wait.

“I waited for you,” He states plainly with no greeting, “I waited for you and you didn’t come.”

Your eyes drop to the floor as you confess, “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch you with her.”

You couldn’t watch from the sidelines as George danced the night away; dancing what you had taught him. It only felt like further punishment, and for now, you had had enough of that.

“I waited for you,” He repeats.

“Why?” You ask; needing to know.

“I couldn’t take her. Not after our final dance lesson, it wasn’t fair to her or to you. So I didn’t take her. Instead, I waited outside the Great Hall for over an hour, hoping you would make an appearance. When you didn’t, I had to come find you. I knew you would be here.”

You sniffle, “You came for me?”

George nods, “I realised something after our final lesson.”

“What?”

He steps further into the room; striding forward until he stands in front of you. He tilts your face up sing two fingers; his eyes shine with happiness as he whispers, “I don’t want to dance with anyone but you.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. If I’m to dance with anyone, it’ll be you. I think we were meant to be; don’t you agree?”

You nod your head, faintly brushing your lips against his as you whisper, “I agree. I think we were meant to be.”

********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @birdie-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @xfirstfemale-marauderx @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ithilwen-lionheart @ilovejjmaybank

George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual @ickle-ronniekins

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george x reader #george weasley

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Note

Sooo, about the ask thing. First off all congratulations I love you and your writing 💜 you seem like such a nice, intelligent and funny person. But was thinking what if namjoon comes home drunk and guilty about something he did and vixen comforts him. Love u💋

Title: Drunk (&) In Love

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Genre: crack, fluff, (also, vaguely allusive)

Rating: 18+ cause THESE TWO ARE A MESS FOR EACH OTHER

Synopsis: apparently Namjoon's stag party went a bit too wild. Mostly since he was drinking guilt away. What could that possibly be about?

Trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, horny!drunk Joon, he clumsily tries to seduce his fianceé in front of yoonjintae (second-hand embarrassment), stressing over vows, mentions of kinky letters, they discuss future and the fear of marrying young and pretty much out of the blue and they be mentioning the idea of having kids. Also, watch Vixen being the caregiver.

Author's note: Thanking the sweetheart @ironicarmy !!! I love exchanging WIPs and Beta reading! It was so fun and I AM LOVING YOUR WIP SO HARD IM GONNA EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! can't wait for it to be out so I can fangirl in public LOLOLOL; also thanking @dopesportsoperatorzonk for this request! (I got your feminism ask, I promise I'm almost done, I wanted to have a quite thorough view before replying and I'm still thinking about some stuff, but it'll be readdy super soon!!!)

Here's my masterlist, btw, and enjoy 💜✨

You weren't supposed to wait up for him, but it was like your sixth sense was telling you to do precisely that. And your premonition turned especially accurate once you were met with the sorry sight of Namjoon hanging off Taehyung's and Seokjin's body, grinning as he saw you appear at the door, head to toe smitten, only to turn to his friends with a sneer as he realised you were wearing his favourite silk robe. The deep crimson colour seemed to spark the colour of your hair on fire, and make the lineaments of your face sharper, older, with a kind of allure he still couldn't understand. “Little fox,” he said, going grabby hands while his arms were still around his friends' shoulders.

You tried to keep your expression stern as you looked at the two men literally holding him up. “What is this? Didn't I tell you to bring him home whole and safe?”

Taehyung lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Is this your idea of safe, Seokjin? I expected better.”

“You know him. He did this to himself.” Yoongi spoke neutrally from behind the three.

“Yoongi. Him being a fucking grizzly doesn't mean he can hold his liquor. Bring him in,” you said, freeing the entryway for the triplet coming in, Yoongi in tow.

“We should have brought him to the dorms,” he muttered.

“Dorms?!? Aneeyo…” Namjoon babbled, shaking his head, falling with his ass on the sofa. “No babylove in dorms,” he said with a hiccup. “Hello, little one,” he purred, grabbing your hips and trying to pull you towards him.

You blushed and slapped at his wrists. “I'll deal with you later—”

“Feisty brat,” he spoke sultrily, making Yoongi shake his head while Seokjin and Taehyung snickered before being chastised by your scolding stare.

“How come he's drunk off his ass and the three of you are perfectly okay?”

“He's the one getting married,” Taehyung replied, matter of factly. “And yes, he was the one who swallowed a bottle of hard liquor without even flinching.”

You glance at Namjoon with a scornful expression.

He did some very drunk, very clumsy attempt at a wink that made you inhale as you desperately looked for a crumb of patient left.

“You'd better go home, before I smack you all on the head,” you said, shooing them off.

“You'd have to reach it first,” Taehyung muttered, making Seokjin giggle, Yoongi rubbing his face at the verbal violence that was about to come.

“Kim Taehyung. I may not be tall enough for your royal head, but your girlfriend is my best friend. I won't say much more because I'm sure your friends aren't interested in your ass getting bruised.”

Yoongi smiled smugly at that one.

“Hell yeah…” Namjoon chuckled from the sofa, one hand reaching for the back of your thigh.

“No. Not now.”

“Later then?” He asked with puppy eyes before they turned into a very tipsy version of his intense dragon glance. “You’re so sexy when you’re mean,” he rumbled, a hand reaching for your thigh underneath the robe.

“Kim Namjoon, if you don’t stop I will unwife you in this instant.” Still, the other three men in the room were a mess of embarrassed coughing and teasing snorts. “You can all go home right now,” you said with a curt tone.

“You’re not gonna be able to take him to bed by yourself.” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow as he spoke calmly.

“Mh, Vixen, take me to bed, please,” Namjoon murmured as he tried to seduce you, just as you looked at him and replied, “No need to take him to bed. He’s sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

“See? I told you she found out! She has a sixth sense for this stuff! She can sense it! She can smell fear! I told you!!!” Namjoon babbled, grabbing your wrist. “Little fox...” he cooed, making a fool of himself.

“Go home. All of you. Now.”

Taehyung was the first to leave without even saying goodbye. He knew he would pay for it. Seokjin was the next, saying bye to Namjoon very briefly before bowing to you — just slightly. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, goodnight,” he apologised, making his way out.

“Yoongi?”

He rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry. Really. I— I didn’t do my job.”

You shook your head. “This is a mess I’ll have to deal with.”

“You know you’ll kind of have to deal with him for the rest of your life, right?” Yoongi looked at Namjoon, head in his hands, fingers tugging at it nervously.

You followed his gaze, meeting Namjoon in the poorest of states. “I know. He’s my business now. Go.”

Yoongi left without much resistance after that, the door of your apartment finally shutting for good.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, staring up at you as you stood before him. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

You placed your hands on his cheeks. “What happened, Joonie bear?”

He shook his head, lip going wobbly. “I’m so sorry!” he babbled again, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“Oh, no, baby…” you managed to whisper before he dove for your lap, burying his face there. “What happened, love?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing’s gonna change the fact that I love you, big bear.” You caressed his hair as his voice confessed, half-muffled against your tummy.

“I sneaked a look at the dress.” You could hear his words coming out from a pout.

“Joonie—”

“Please don’t unwife me!” He cried out, his voice way too high pitched. “I don’t want to sleep alone ever.” He hugged your legs and held you closer. “I want to sleep next to you until I die.” He got even more emotional as he went on. “I want you to always pet my hair and tell me you’re proud of me and cook for me and be my sweetheart and my babylove and my little fox forever, even when we’re old and I get bald.”

You smiled and invited him to let go of your legs before sitting down, your legs slightly parted laying across the sofa. “Come here, big bear,” you said, patting your stomach. He did as he was told, laying his head below your chest and stretching his long body all over the seat. He struggled a little, his sense of balance temporarily worse than usual. “Soon I’ll be lawfully your bride. Forever. We’re almost there, honey. Just a week.”

He nodded.

“And then I’ll be your little fox until I’m nothing but ashes. And then some,” you reassured him, petting his lovely head, digging your fingers into the knots in his upper back.

“Writing the vows was so difficult.”

“I know baby,” you kept rubbing at his trapezoi until he released a relieved grunt. “I know that must have been really stressful for you.”

“I had to rewrite them sixteen times. Sixteen!” His hand absentmindedly reached your thigh and started rubbing small circles there. “Everytime, they were too long, or too cliché, or something I just couldn’t read in public because you know our letters.”

“I know our letters,” you confirmed, thinking about his messy handwriting on cheap paper, and entire sheets of words that he sent you everytime something important happened, everytime he had to travel for his job, everytime he just needed to make love to you on a deeper level. And then, thinking of your replies, always heartfelt, emotional, with fine calligraphy on expensive ivory sheets often marred with rough spots where a tear fell — most of the time because of joy and gratitude and obliterating, overwhelming love. “Will you read to me the other sixteen versions too, once we’re alone?”

He nodded. “I’ll read them all. I’ll write new ones every day. Small, simple, absolutely mundane. Stuff like, ‘I’ll do the dishes tonight’, or ‘Let’s go out for dinner’, or ‘I wanna grow old with you’ or ‘I don’t wanna watch that porn tonight, let’s just stare into each other’s eyes while naked and have the best tantric sex ever performed’.”

You chuckled and placed your hand atop of his. “I like the last one.”

“But I couldn’t say it in front of your parents, therefore I couldn’t write it in our vows.” He scoffed and shook his head before planting it between your breasts, nosing at the lapels of the robe until he could kiss your naked skin.

“I might have written something along those lines in one of my drafts.” Having this conversation with Namjoon while he was halfway drunk off his ass was extremely entertaining; however, you felt sad at the possibility of him not remembering this moment.

“What else did you write in that draft?” He closed his eyes, waiting for your soft voice to calm him down.

You smiled and slightly teared up at the thought, his chin propped on your chest, one of his thumbs reaching out to dry up a tear. “I wrote that I hope I get to make you smile every day and see that insanely cute and sexy dimple of yours every morning after you wake up. And I want to be the only one listening to your deep bedroom voice waking me up. And I want to listen to you as you talk to our children. I wanna hear all the stories, and watch your smile shine on their faces.”

Namjoon hid his face against your chest, feeling tears roll down his cheeks.

“I want them to have your eyes. I want to see your complete wonder as they learn about the world, as you teach them about the world in that grand and beautiful way you see it.” You sniffled and he cupped your face, kissing your lips so slowly, the heavy tang of liquor barely tainting the moment.

“I want to walk by your side, until we’re too tired to walk and watch time pass by, without worries, without haste. I don’t care where we’re walking because you were the place I was destined to be.”

Namjoon couldn’t explain tenderness or love or devotion or faith as deep as the ones he felt for you. He probably wasn’t skilled or trained enough.

“I know we’re young. I know this is more of a bet than an actual marriage. I’ve seen people who have been together for years part ways so easily and I don’t even know why you said yes to me. Sometimes I doubt I’m deserving and I see in how many ways I’m lacking and I ask myself, 'why the hell did she say yes to me?' ” He snickered sarcastically. “I wouldn’t have said yes to myself.”

You shook your head and kissed his brow.

“But I’ve been with other people and you have too and… I don’t know, sometimes I feel like this will take a lot of effort but then I hear you laugh, I hear you calling my name and I know, I can feel that that’s what it is supposed to sound like.”

You smiled at him, fixing your position so he could lay on you without worrying about smashing your body.

“I’m so confused and so grateful for this. It’s like… Suddenly winning the lottery. One minute you’re just a person and next you realise you’re going to be a husband. And you don’t know what’s going to happen to you, how your life is going to change, but with you I’m not scared.” He chuckled. “Well, I am. But you make me braver than my fears. And I know I could lose you any day. I could fuck up, or we could just drift apart or something. But any moment spent with you is bigger. It’s better and brighter.”

By now you were a teary mess, face drenched in tears, his arms around your torso as he held onto you. “My soul has found a home in you and I will cherish it. I’ll take care of that home. I’ll make sure nothing damages it. I’ll help you work on it if you want to change it. I will make more room when our family gets bigger. I will fix it when I can. I’ll stay by your side when I’m not skilled enough to heal you. To fix you.” He sniffled, voice hollow and weak as he spoke through a lump in his throat. “And I’ll leave if you ever ask me to.”

You shook your head and hugged him, letting him sob in your arms. “I hope I never lose you.”

“Don’t be a silly bear,” you comforted him, lulling him, holding him close to your heart. “I’ll be your bride. Your spouse. Your wife.” You kissed his head. “And your home. Your relief. Your dirty, secret affair. Your devoted companion too. Your goddess and your toy. I’ll be your friend. And the mother of your children, when we want to.”

God, if he wanted to… But first, he needed to enjoy having you all to himself for a couple more years. Just to make sure you hadn’t been both bold and immature and absolutely stupid about getting married almost two years after meeting for the first time.

“So I’m not getting unwifed for sneaking a peek at the dress?”

You shook your head. “It looks completely different once worn.”

“Really?” His expression exploded with euphoria.

You smiled. “Really.”

His drunken grin was back. “So I’m gonna sleep on the bed right?”

You acted as if you were even thinking about it. “You’re really drunk.”

“I’m soberer now.”

“And you embarrassed me in front of your friends,” you reminded him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Not my fault my wifey’s so hot,” he said with a slightly more accomplished wink.

“Not your wifey yet,” you reminded him.

He tutted. “Just a matter of days.” He kissed your sweet spot, on the side of your neck. “It’s only a technicality.”

You looked at him suspiciously. “A technicality, you say?”

He nodded and held you tighter.

“This technicality could still leave you at the altar, waiting,” you teased.

“Come on, I want to sleep next to you.” He kissed your cheek. “On our bed.” He kissed you again. “Where we’ll be making so many babies.”

“Stop right there, mister.” You placed a finger against his plush lips before you shook your head no. “No babies for a few years. I want you all mine, hubby.”

He chuckled and pressed his forehead against your chest bone. “Okay, fine, but I just meant hypothetically. You know, for practice.”

“Yeah, I think I could use some practice. I want to be perfect at it.”

He smiled and kissed your nose. If only she knew how perfect she is, he thought, haphazardly sitting up and waiting for you to help him on his feet, the whole discourse sobering him up enough that he managed to sit on the bench in the bathroom as you washed his face and brushed his teeth, as you undressed him and helped him in the shower, undressing and joining him, his body too tired and unstable to initiate anything fancy.

And then you towelled him up, rubbing body lotion on his always-too-dry legs before helping him in his boxers.

And through the process, he understood how it was that you loved him so much anytime he got you ready for bed. He should let you do this more often. Especially when he wasn’t exhausted or drunk, so he could properly enjoy being cuddled and fondled and babied.

What he didn’t expect was for it to feel so comfortable when you slid up against his back on the bed, spooning his ridiculously large body with your smaller one. “Sleep tight, big bear,” you said before kissing his nape. “Eight more sleeps and we’ll be married.”

He smiled. “Goodnight, little fox.” And with that, he caught your hand in his and fell asleep.

#kim namjoon fluff #namjoon crack #bts fanfiction #bts fanfiction blog #namjoon drabble #houseofddaeng #52hertz #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon x vixen

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Keeping the Peace

Writer: JHsgf82

Prompt 45: Peeta works security (peacekeeper? police?), Katniss is a protester (rebellion? BLM?) or a civilian (rebel?) or a local translator in her village. Do they know each other at all? Work together? Fight on opposite sides or meet at common ground? What threatens them? Are their feelings real? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Rating: T

Author Note: Due to lack of time (and taking on too much, lol), this will only be snippets of the fic, a sneak peek. I do plan on continuing, though, and I’ve really enjoyed developing this and writing what I have of it. I hope you’ll enjoy it and that you’ll continue to read it when I post the rest on A03 in the near future. Will be alternating First Person POV, Peeta and Katniss. Edit by @mrspeetamellark. Thank you!

Peeta

“You got a girl, Peet?” Darius asks from his usual spot beside me in the mess hall.

“No.” I smile a little and shake my head.

“Why not? Every woman loves a man in uniform, right?”

I glance down at my snow-white fatigues, then to my helmet beside me on the bench. “Not around here, D.” I don’t say it with bitterness, just matter-of-factly.

Darius slaps me on the back. “Hey, they may act like they hate us, but it’s only because we enforce the law. They don’t like it, but they respect us for it.”

I’m not so sure about that. I think my good friend is a little deluded.

I’ve been a Peacekeeper for going-on-three years now, stationed in good ole’ District 12. I got into it to protect the people and keep them safe, and of course, to keep the peace, but more often than not, it seems like I’m just ordering them around. Or worse.

And now, with the riots happening and the new commander, Commander Thread, in place, the district only seems to be deteriorating further. The residents are frequently whipped in the square, for one. I’ve never had to do it, thankfully, but I know others who have. Even stricter rules are being enforced, tariffs and quotas on every little thing, and we’ve shut down their Hob. The people, at least those from the Seam, have even started moving out of town, into the woods, forming their own little community of sorts. We break them up and force them back sometimes, peacefully as we can.

I hope to God they don’t reinstitute hangings.

I don’t like the way things are, but I can’t leave. I’m sworn in. I belong to Snow and his Peacekeeper organization. I’m literally branded. Still, I refuse to be a piece in whatever game he’s playing. And I’m guessing I’m still hoping I can make a difference, somehow.

Darius talks about women a lot, wanting to fall in love, get married. As for me, I’ve never really considered marriage. I was always married to the job. After the way I grew up, I was so glad to have an important job, something that mattered, but more and more, my thinking’s been changing…

***

The first time I see her, she’s standing calf-deep in the lake. She’s wearing a green, threadbare slip of a dress, and her long, dark hair is braided down her back. Her skin is a flawless olive, shimmering in the sunlight. She bends down and digs up some sort of plant growing on top of the water; it has white flowers, green leaves, and long roots with tubers hanging from it. The bottom of her dress, her legs, and now her hands are covered in mud, but she just looks down at the plant, and she smiles.

As for me, I’m frozen, staring hard with probably the goofiest grin on my face. She’s just so…ethereal. I definitely need to paint her later, at least get a quick sketch down before I forget what she looks like. Nah, I’ll never forget. She’s too unique. Too…mesmerizing.

Her ears seem to prick, and she catches sight of me. And although it’s hard to tell from this distance, I swear her eyes are silver. Stupid and enraptured as I am, I wave. She merely tugs up the strap of her dress, which has slipped a little, and stares at me.

My god, she’s stunning.

Who is she? This silver-eyed, braided vision before me. Is she real, or some kind of earth goddess? Hell, I might consider marriage, if I could be married to her.

Wait, what am I saying? She’s a local. Most likely a Seam girl. We’re from two different worlds; it’d never work. Mainly because she probably hates my guts.

***

A couple weeks later, there’s a ruckus just outside of town that I’m called to, a small dispute of sorts. When I get there, three of our guys are surrounding a local man and…the girl from the lake! I rush over.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Right away, I’m told by my superior officer to fall in line. Darius is there, too. He quietly explains the situation while we look on from a few feet away.

“She’s been hoarding goat’s milk rather than turning in her quota!” exclaims the man, spitting a little when he says it. He must have been the one who turned her in.

For crying out loud. I groan. All this over a little goat’s milk.

“You’re just hoping they take Lady away from us, so you can have her back free of charge!” the girl from the lake growls.

I don’t know what comes over me, but all of a sudden, I’m stepping up to stand between the girl and her goat and the rest of the men.

“Let the girl keep her goat,” I demand.

“Peeta, what are you doing?” asks Darius, concerned.

“Just…go on, D. I got this.”

“Look, there’s no use crying over spilled goat’s milk.” I joke. Darius turns to me, and I can tell the face he’s making beneath his helmet.

“What the hell are you babbling about?” my superior officer snarls.

I don’t even know. Really I’m just trying to distract him and get him to forget about the girl and let her go. I’ll persuade my superior, and the local man, because that’s what I’m good at.

But that doesn’t happen. Things get out of hand when the girl tries to sneak off with her goat while we’re talking, and all but Darius and me point guns at her. I lose my cool and shove the two guns away from her. “Hey! Back off!"

…

***

“Where’s Lady?” the girl from the lake demands.

“Who?”

“The goat. My goat, dammit!” She starts rapidly firing off words in a native tongue, probably cursing me out. “She’s my sister’s goat! She was a gift; she’s important, and I need her!”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I saved the goat. Sent it back to the village with my most trusted friend.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to escort you back home.”

She eyes me skeptically.

“I haven’t been ordered to or anything. It’s just, you took quite a blow, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

She studies me a moment; then, apparently, she decides she believes me because she nods.

I smile. “So, you’ll allow it?”

“I’ll allow it."

***

I wake up in a cave, not knowing how I came to be here. All I remember is the riot getting out of hand, me taking off my helmet and something bashing me in the back of the head, and…the girl!

I turn to my right with a groan, and I see her beside me.

I try to sit up, but she tells me to lie back down. It’s just as well, for the entire cave is spinning. She takes a cloth out of a small, brown bowl of water, rings it out, and places it on my forehead, partially obscuring my eyes. I move it so I can see her better.

I moan a little when the pain hits.

“Shh, you’re alright. Just a nasty gash. But you’ll live. I’m sorry that I’m not a healer, but my mother is, and I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

“You. What’s your name?” I need to know.

“Katniss.”

“Oh. Pretty name. What does it mean?”

She seems amused by this, probably thinks I’m off my head from delirium.

“It’s a plant. An edible water plant with white flowers and tubers.”

“Oh, like the ones you dug up from the lake that one time?”

Shit. Now she knows it was me watching her.

“Yeah, like those ones.” Her pretty lips upturn slightly.

I study her a moment. “Uh, so I assume you knew I was watching you the whole time.”

“Yeah, I knew. I have…heightened senses, let’s just say.”

I nod. “And how did you know it was me back there?"

“I saw your tattoo,” she replies plainly, “and your face.”

“You know about my tattoo?” I quirk a brow.

“Yeah. It means you’re a Peacekeeper, right?”

I nod.

"Why are you doing this, then?” I murmur.

She presses her lips into a thin smile and says, “Because you helped me once.”

***

“If you’re gonna blend in and be one of us, Peeta, you have to pass the initiation,” says Katniss.

“Oh yeah?” I cock my head to the side. At this point, I’m ready for anything. “And what’s that?”

She grins. “Milk Lady.”

Except that.

Katniss is screwing with me, surely. She wants me to milk a goat? No way. I can’t milk a goat. And yet, I also can’t resist those eyes or that sexy little smirk-smile of hers, so I poke out my chest and clap my hands together. “Alright, lead the way.”

“Really?”

"Absolutely. Lady is practically famous. I’m ready to get up close and personal with her.”

Katniss laughs so hard she snorts. “Um, I think maybe you’re not quite healed from that head injury.” She raises her hand to touch the spot, stopping just short. I catch her wrist and place it on the side of my face, and I hear her breath hitch.

“I’m fine, Katniss. But thank you for being concerned about me.”

#JHsgf82 #567inpanem #prompt 45 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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lovetenya · 3 years

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𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝟏𝐚.

warnings: these are just headcanons mostly focused on them, but the reader is gn, of course!

note: this was suggested, and inspired by this. also, i haven’t written for some of these characters before, so i hope i do them justice!

scenario: ua’s normal childcare professional is out sick, so you’re teamed up with another class 1a student to take care of the ua teacher’s kids while they’re at a hero banquet. all of the kids are well behaved, but most of these guys aren’t around kids much, so it’s a learning experience.

mina ashido.

mina is great with kids because she fits right in with them and will listen to them babble about their interests for HOURS because it truly is interesting to her to learn what makes them happy

and she’ll ask you “wow! did ya hear that y/n? she just said that pelicans can turn their stomachs inside out! isn’t that great?”

she just wants to learn whatever she can from them, because she thinks that they have just as much to teach us

i feel like mina is the type of person who gently inserts self love rhetoric and feminist ideas into her conversations w the kids, because she just wants everyone to be uplifted and for them to notice their strengths without being held back by other people’s opinions

she’s always felt that it was easy to be outwardly excited and to have fun, so she’s really good at getting shy kids out of their shell and helping them to let loose, and will encourage you to open up to them a little bit and be a little warmer

she loves to dance, so she’ll host dance parties with the kids and start something goofy like a conga line and lead them around the common room, making them all giggle like crazy

tsuyu asui.

tsu doesn’t really like the loud noises that kids sometimes make, so she’s more likely to organize a game or put on a movie for the kids to watch to keep things calm and steady

she’d let em pick a nature program or an animal-related movie so that she could chime in & give little facts here & there and make them smile!

tsu is a good babysitter because she encourages kids to be curious about their surroundings, and doesn’t mind at all when kids ask questions about her quirk

she’ll show and tell them whatever they want to know, and will even leap out of excitement sometimes!! she’s so cute!!

katsuki bakugo.

contrary to what other people sometimes say, i don’t think that he’s going to be outright rude to kids or yell at them constantly. yes, i know, he was brash with them in those couple episodes, but he’s blunt—not a bad person. he’s not going to just scream at kids for no reason.

sure, he might get frustrated, but he still wants them to feel safe and protected. that’s what heroes do.

and what better way to keep them feeling safe than teaching them self defense techniques?

he’d be all serious like, “alright, so if a villain has you in a chokehold, what do you do?”

and they’re sitting in front of him, all wide eyed and starry lookin, entranced with what he’s teaching them

“who teaches kids this kind of stuff?” you think. (he does)

i also think katsuki is the kid of person who’s going to cook for them and keep them occupied in that way.

he usually likes making complicated stuff, but he has no problem making it less spicy if it means they’ll calm down for a little bit to eat

while everyone’s eating, you look over to him and see him helping a kid hold their chopsticks, before softly praising them, “there ya go. you’ve got it now.” and giving them a small high five

he’s not someone who’s going to be outwardly soft, so doing things for kids like teaching them things or cooking them meals is how he shows he cares.

tenya iida.

tenya likes to tell and read stories with kids, or help them with their homework if they’ve got any

he’ll do terrible voices for all the different characters and make all the kids laugh

he’ll sit patiently with them and will explain the stories or problems just like a teacher would

and he’ll notice if you sneak them any candy, and will call you out discreetly by holding out his hand for some and saying “what? you’re not going to give me one?”

any and all messes will be cleaned up by the kids, and they’ll be lined up & ready when the teachers are ready to come and get them

kyoka jirou.

i think she’d be better with older kids because they’re easier to maintain and entertain (in my opinion)

they don’t ask as many random questions, which sometimes overwhelm her, and they’re more likely to listen to what she has to say

i can see her being really flustered with the attention they give her, because they think she’s so cool, but she’s still pretty relaxed cuz she doesn’t wanna freak them out

she’ll let them have lots of snacks and would play music for them!!

“does anyone know what this instrument is called?”

“that’s right, good job! wanna hear what it sounds like?”

she’ll show them as many instruments as they wanna see, and tries not to blush too hard when they cheer and applaud

denki kaminari.

if you think kids bounce off the walls with energy, they’re about to meet their match with mr. denki kaminari.

he’s the kind of person to challenge them to foot races and to go way too hard in go fish

and he’d do little pranks where he let outs a little shock when they high five him

needless to say, the kids are exhausted when they make it back to their parents

eijirou kirishima.

he. loves. kids.

he thinks they’re so fun to be around and that they’re the next generation of heroes, and they’re full of endless potential!

he’s 100% willing to be a human jungle gym and will play wrestle with them to their heart’s content while making sure they’re not being too rough with each other

he’d compliment them for the smallest stuff, saying “wow! that was super manly, kiddo!” cuz he doesn’t want other people to question their abilities

he’s not the greatest cook, but he’s helpful, so he’ll help you cook for them!

he’ll encourage the kids to help however they can, and will let them stir the bowls while encouraging them!!

lots of high fives and “woo-hoo!”s

izuku midoriya.

izuku adores children’s curiosity and how their questions never seem to end

he can relate to it, because of course he loves compiling information and learning as much as he can about a topic

if one of the kids was a fan of all might??? they’re babbling together about all might’s greatest moments and they’re demonstrating how the move went and how the villain ran away pathetically

he’s very soft w kids because he knows how weird he is.

he agrees that it doesn’t make sense for someone of his size to be that strong, but reminds them that everyone’s quirk works differently, and that they shouldn’t judge people for their quirk or how it chooses to manifest

he’s so understanding and kind w the kids whose quirks haven’t manifested yet, because he knows how bad it feels to feel like you’re es than average, and assures them that it’ll come soon! and even if it doesn’t, you can still make a difference!

which is all the more reason for him to be as gentle as possible, following around the little ones like a mother hen and making sure they’re not gonna walk into something or put a toy into their mouth

would probably tire himself out trying to keep track of all of them and they would all fall asleep in a big hug pile 🥺

mashirao ojiro.

has a lot of fun with kids, because he’s used to being overshadowed by some of the higher achievers in class 1a

but kids think he’s cool because his quirk is so unique and they can’t help but be fascinated and ask a million questions on what he can do with it

he’s happy to share, because lots of people underestimate him and don’t pay attention to what he has to say

would give them rides on his tail and let them pet it (like denki does!)

hanta sero.

he just kinda lets them do their own thing and follows along to make sure that they don’t hurt themselves

would strap a baby to his chest with some tape just to keep them secure with him

and would answer a thousand questions about his quirk without tiring, because he remembers what it was like to be curious of peoples quirks, and he knows they’re not staring to be disrespectful

i think he’s another one that would cook for them, and feel really accomplished when they’re all satisfied

mezo shoji.

although he’s a badass, that’s exactly the reason why he’s the one most hesitant to deal with kids because he’s afraid that he’s going to scare them away

however, he didn’t account for them finding him to be the most fascinating person they’ve laid their eyes on

he would scoop them up in his arms and carry them around and let them use him like a jungle gym

he’s very very gentle with them because he tends to underestimate his strength and would never be able to forgive himself if he was to bring them harm, but he never does because he’s so careful

shoto todoroki.

shoto never really dealt with kids, so he’s hesitant about everything he does.

he’s seen the destruction that his quirk “causes”, and he’s horrified to thing of what could happen if he gets overwhelmed.

shoto underestimates his tolerance and patience. he’s very good with kids, and is very good at getting them to listen.

all it takes is a little flurry of snow and they’re suddenly at full attention for shoto.

ochaco uraraka.

she likes kids, but she’s not very good at being strict with them

they want to read another story? of course she can read another!

they want another snack? sure! why not?

she tries not to let them walk all over her, but they’re just so cute, and she can’t resist.

she’d make their toys float around the room to make them laugh

and they think she’s a princess because of her “magic” and how she wears pink :)

momo yaoyorozu.

momo is like a mom!

shes great at planning things for them to do and keeping them in line and occupied

games are organized and cooperative, so nobody loses!

although she’s not usually like this, she’s more than willing to give hugs and feel better kisses if someone is to bump their head :(

she would feel terrible if someone got hurt on her watch, so she’s encouraging them the be safe if they’re going to be active!

makes lots of fun little snacks for them to eat, with cute faces and stuff, and doesn’t mind to see her hard work enjoyed by such good kids!

end!

#mina ashido #tsuyu asui #katsuki bakugo #tenya iida #kyoka jirou #denki kaminari #eijirou kirishima #izuku midoriya #mashirao ojiro #hanta sero #mezo shoji #shoto todoroki #ochaco uraraka #momo yaoyorozu #mha x reader #mha x gn!reader #mha x gender neutral reader #my writing #filled request

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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Ashes Chapter 13: Perception

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: Maybe it's inevitable. Definitely cried like an adult while writing parts of this. I'm a weepy baby. I hope you imagine an ugly MySpace style sparkly gif every time Y/N uses the word "kidnapping". As always, appreciate you guys <3

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Buzz.

You peeked one eye open and caught sight of the smart phone dancing around on the nightstand close by. Strong arms were wrapped around you and there was no mistaking who they belonged to this time. Liu. You’d fallen asleep next to each other and somewhere along the line, in unconsciousness, he’d cuddled against you.

This was fine.

This was all fine.

The phone continued to dance and nearly vibrated right off the edge of the nightstand and onto the floor. You grabbed it from its place near the edge and wiped your eyes with your other hand. Johnny Cage. Rubbing your eyes again, you checked the time on the phone. It was nine at night. Carefully you snuck out of Liu’s arms without waking him. You’d mastered sneaking out of bed while you’d been dating Kung Lao. He was so heavy a sleeper that in the beginning of your relationship you had wound up trapped beneath his arms for hours. Then when you tried to get away, you’d wake him up. Eventually you’d mastered maneuvering from his grasp without waking him because waking him led to fooling around or talking and then you were either trapped having to pee or late for some responsibility or another.

Liu adjusted behind you but didn’t wake up. You fixed your askew shirt, grabbed your keycard, and then answered the phone and stepped into the hallway, carefully closing the door behind you.

“This is weird. I don’t think I even got your name earlier.” Johnny spoke without waiting for you to acknowledge him. You chuckled beneath your breath then cleared the sleepiness from your throat. “I know that may seem like it’s a pretty common thing for me but…”

“Y/N. You can call me Y/N.” You interrupted what you were sure was a very cleverly crafted explanation about his popularity and fame. Johnny Cage seemed like the type to be easily derailed from a topic with banter. You’d become skilled at wrangling men like that given that Kung Lao had been your other half for so long.

“And you’re from China, right?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Just trying to make sure I spell your name right…” His voice was distant, as if he spoke nowhere near the phone. You spelled your name for him with a sigh. “Is that…?”

“That is not important right now.” You interrupted him again. You had to keep him on task or this conversation was going to go on forever.

“Right, yes. I’ve been thinking about this morning.”

“And?”

“I was hoping to hash out the details with you guys before I officially agree to anything.” Johnny Cage tried to sound like he was bargaining with you but you were already convinced that he was joining you. This seemed like a formality. Or like he was dragging it out. Why? You couldn’t think of a good reason. Maybe to try and land a date with Sonya? You didn’t think that was going to happen and also it seemed petty. Then again, you and Liu were a hot mess in the middle of all of this so you couldn’t criticize anyone else’s motives. “I’ve begun clearing my schedule for the next few weeks but I’m a busy man, you know. Takes time.”

“I understand that. I’m sure that we can meet tomorrow to answer any questions you may still have.” There was no point in arguing with him on that. It was a reasonable request though not entirely necessary. Besides, you were still ready to jump to the kidnapping stage of this endeavor. If he caused too much trouble tomorrow then you would promptly lure him somewhere quiet and knock him out. Then you’d go from there. You could probably convince Cole to help you if you had to but you didn’t think it would go that far.

“That’s exactly what I hoped to hear!” You could hear the smile on Johnny’s face. “When we’re off the phone, I’ll text you where to meet me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You yawned.

“I wanted to ask you something. You seem like a nice woman.”

Oh, how misguided a man Johnny Cage was. Oddly trusting for someone in his position. Here you were planning out an elaborate scheme to kidnap him and drag him to China and he thought you were nice. It was probably the tea thing from earlier. Ah, well. You’d fooled him.

“Ask away, Mr. Cage.”

“Just Johnny, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

Then he sighed as if trying to word his question or embarrassed to ask it. You waited patiently. There was no need to rush him. You weren’t sure that Johnny Cage could be rushed. “Are you guys for real? Or are you just dicking me around? No one put you up to this, right?” After everything that you had showed him that morning, he was still stuck on the idea of this being a prank. Was Johnny often victim to silly pranks? Did he find himself the butt end of a joke amongst friends? It was funny to imagine.

“I know that this is… what’s the saying? Difficult medicine to take?” You weren’t so good with the English idioms. Maybe that was why he thought you to be nice. You were far more sarcastic in your native tongue. Your English was good but stuff didn’t always come out right.

“Hard pill to swallow but I got the point.” Johnny chuckled. “…so yeah? It’s true?”

“Trust me, Mr. Cage, I have much better things to do than play silly pranks on you.” You reassured him but he scoffed as if insulted. “That and I’d never heard of you before this.” It sounded like you’d punched him. Ah, yes, the delicate male ego.

“Low blow. Never heard of me?” You could picture the horror on his face.

“No offense meant.”

“I bet you just didn’t remember my name. Dragon Fist? Cage Match? Aquatic Assault? Exiting the Dragon of Death? A personal favorite of mine…”

“Exiting the Dragon of Death?”

“Yeah? You’ve heard of that one?”

“No.”

“Come on, don’t play with me like that.”

“I couldn’t resist.” You spoke over him as he made to list more movies. “I’m sorry to have offended you.” You were certain this could go on all night and you were still tired and now you were hungry too. Your appetite was back and you were far less shaky than you’d been earlier that day. “I did watch one of your films last night with a friend so that I could be familiar with your movement patterns.”

“For that crazy duplication thing you did?”

“For my arcana, yes.”

“…and?”

“It was a fun movie.”

“Which one did you watch?”

“Mr. Cage, this is a conversation for another time. Can we stay on topic?”

“Just Johnny, please.” Apparently no, he could not stay on topic. You pulled the phone away from your face so he wouldn’t hear your heavy sigh. Hearing footsteps behind you, you turned and found Cole approaching holding an ice bucket and offering a wave. He stopped next to you and nodded toward the phone. You mouthed that it was Johnny Cage. Then he offered you a thumbs up, pointed toward the end of the hall and walked away, presumably to get ice. “I’m making a choice to trust you. I don’t think you’re lying to me. I hope I’m making the right choice.”

“I’m a terrible liar so good choice.” He continued going on about something but your brain was tired of the babble. You needed food! This conversation felt like it would have gone on all week if you let him talk the way he wanted to. “Can I trust you no to dick us around?”

“I promise. You’ve got a deal, Y/N.”

“Text me the address and we’ll meet you just before noon.” You assured him.

“Got it. See you then.” Johnny hung up and you breathed a sigh of relief. At least this part of your trip was going smoothly. Seconds later your phone buzzed with a message from the same number. You selected the address and put it into the browser of your phone after figuring out how that worked. From what you could tell, the address seemed legit. A house by the shore. Of course, a beach house. Why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to show off?

“How’d it go?” Cole returned with his bucket full of ice.

“Mr. Cage is going to meet with us tomorrow to discuss details.”

“I anticipated us having to use your devious plan B so I’m surprised he’s going to meet with us.” Cole adjusted the bucket in his arms. “What do you think of him? I’m having a hard time taking him seriously.”

“I meant it when I said that I thought he was funny earlier. Honestly, if we had met without any of this pretense, I think that he and I would get along quite well.” You shrugged. “I also think that he’s going to do what he thinks is right if that’s what you were really asking. Seems like the type to talk a big game but ultimately a good guy.”

“That’s optimistic of you.”

“I usually have a good read on people.”

“I can tell.” Cole gestured toward your door. “You just getting in? Maybe not.” He looked down at your bare feet.

“I was napping.”

“And you came into the hallway to take a call?”

“Yeah, I was uh… going to grab food.”

“Without your shoes?”

“Are you always this nosy, Cole?”

“Not really but this afternoon has been especially boring. Plus, your reactions are entertaining.” Cole smirked. “You have more color now. That’s good to see.”

“Why does no one believe me when I say I’m just tired?” You gestured back to the room. “I’m gonna go.”

“We’re about to grab a bite to eat if you want to join us. Late dinner.”

“No, no, thank you though. That’s sweet. I’m okay.”

“You just said you were going to get food.” Cole laughed.

“…I think I’ll order something.” You pointed to your bare feet but was sure your expression was one that screamed you’d been caught in the most pointless of lies. Cole had inadvertently talked you into a corner. You hadn’t even meant to lie! It had just happened. This was why you didn’t usually bother.

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah, turns out I am. I’m not good at it.”

“I can see that.”

The door to your room opened behind you and Liu Kang peeked into the hall, still looking sleepy.

“Hello Cole” Liu stepped into the hall and kept the door propped open a crack, back leaned against it. Then he bowed his head politely in greeting. He turned to you and spoke Chinese as if this weren’t suspicious. You didn’t think it had the intention that he wanted it to have. “Everything okay?”

“I had a call to take with Mr. Cage. No big deal.” You replied in English to try and make it seem like you had less to hide. Why? Because Cole was already giving you a look as if to say it was ‘nothing’. You sighed. “I’m just about done.”

“Good.” Liu replied in English. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You snapped at him without meaning to then took a cleansing breath. He was just worried about you but you were tired of the worry. You felt far better than you had earlier. A few hours of sleep had done you good. “I really am fine.” Liu bowed his head politely to both you and Cole and then disappeared back into the hotel room.

“What was it you were saying earlier? About that being nothing?” Cole teased in a whisper after you made no move to offer any explanation.

“If you recall, I also said it was none of your business.” There was no point in trying to lie again. You folded too easily. Instead, you’d be evasive. That was easier. Avoiding the truth was far easier than twisting it at least for you.

“Liu looked pretty tired. You guys have a nice nap?”

“We fell asleep talking.” You narrowed your eyes at his implications but also hated how close he was to the truth.

“Sure, is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

You shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Your ice is melting Cole. It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to mentally shift my definition of that word to better fit what I’m seeing.” He teased. “You’re trouble, Y/N. I’m making note of it.”

“You have no idea, Cole.” You pointed to the room behind you. “I’m going now.”

“Enjoy your nothing.” He called after you. You disappeared into the hotel room and then leaned against the door once it closed. You fiddled on your phone and sent a message to Jax, relaying what you’d learned from Johnny Cage along with the address and what you’d agreed to. The door to the small bathroom to your right opened and Liu stepped out, closing the door behind him. He waited patiently for you to finish on your phone.

“When I woke up and couldn’t find you, I was worried.” He nodded to the messy bed where you’d been sleeping. And snuggling. You mustn’t forget that there had been a fair amount of snuggling.

“My phone was ringing and it felt rude to answer it with you asleep so I stepped into the hall.” You shook the phone in your hand and then filled him in on the conversation you’d shared with Johnny Cage. You left out the exhausting banter that had kept you on the phone for far longer than necessary. Even if it had been mentally exhausting, you had also enjoyed talking with him. Your phone buzzed with Jax’s response. “Okay, Jax is going to arrange a ride to take us to meet Johnny tomorrow. He’ll also let everyone else know where to meet.”

“Good.”

Silence followed and you stood awkwardly in the small entranceway of the hotel room.

“So.” You began.

“So.”

“You should probably go, right?”

“Yeah.” Liu shifted but made no move to leave and a smile played on his lips. “Or… I could stay. We could order some food and continue our… getting along for the day.”

“Mostly getting along.” You corrected. Maybe he’d chosen to forget when he’d pushed you against the wall and you’d nearly undressed him. You blinked the mental image away. If you thought about it for too long then you’d probably end up right back where you’d started. “We could. Is that what you wanted to do?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I guess.”

“There was a menu around here somewhere.” Liu walked back into the open area of the room and you were grateful he’d taken the initiative to make the decision to stay. In all honesty, his presence was comforting and conflicting. You craved the comfort but the guilt and pain made you want to push him away. Your brain was such a mess. Your emotions were even worse. You joined him and mulled over the menu, trying to discern what was safe for you to eat. Liu called to place the order since he had several questions about the food. His diet was more specific than yours was. You had never quite taken to the vegetarian diet completely. Your food arrived and you sat on your bed and ate while making quiet conversation. It was pleasant, if not a little awkward. In a way, it was reminiscent of when you would spend time alone together when you were first dating Kung Lao. You had often avoided discussing the difficult things then but not for the sake of each other. Instead, it was for Kung Lao.

“Cole seems to have taken a shine to you.”

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy and his family is cute. I think he feels guilty about Kung Lao so he’s compensating a little.”

“I could see that. I tried to reassure him that he isn’t to blame.”

“I did too.” You clicked your tongue in amusement. Liu gently nudged you with his shoulder.

“Today was nice.”

“I mean, parts of it were.”

“We had a bit of a rough start but things didn’t end so horribly.”

“Well,” you began in a higher, nervous pitch, “we didn’t exactly fix anything.” Liu laughed. “And I think we definitely made things worse but… all things considered, neither one of us is dead and we aren’t screaming at each other so that’s something.”

“I was thinking and… maybe we don’t have to fix anything.” Liu avoided your eyes and began to clean up dinner. You knew why he was avoiding your eyes because you were looking at him like he’d lost his damn mind. He had. He was insane. You couldn’t keep going like this. You both knew that. “We can’t ignore it, obviously. But we can’t expect to resolve anything when we’re like this. We’re grieving, Y/N. We hurt each other. But I also think that it could be healthy to try and find a way to be content amongst all of that too. We can’t force a resolution, Y/N. I think that’s clear.” Liu’s smile was soft but strained, like talking about it so analytically pained him. “I don’t think I can handle this much misery all the time.”

“I understand.” You didn’t necessarily disagree with him you just couldn’t see the end either. He seemed to think there was some kind of happily ever after waiting for you and you didn’t think there was. The only end to life was death. Even if you found happiness eventually, life would continue moving. No amount of happiness would erase your history nor would it erase your trauma. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t find joy. You were just being realistic. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” You helped him gather the dishes. Liu then placed the tray aside on the desk. You picked up the tray and placed it carefully outside the door and then returned to him. “Surreal is maybe a better word for what we are right now.”

“Surreal works.” Liu’s smile was forced and it pained you. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Oh, you think so, hmm? Confident in that?”

“I am.” He grinned but you could still see that worry behind his dark eyes. Liu had never been a good liar either. It was a wonder that he’d fooled you all those years ago. Perhaps because he’d said all the things that you’d been afraid he’d say.

“I suppose the worst thing that could happen is that we decide not to talk to each other anymore and lose touch. Then in like, thirty years, we’ll reunite and reminisce about the old days. Then this won’t seem so complicated anymore.” You hadn’t realized how much you’d considered that as an option until then. Liu seemed alarmed. “What?”

“Is that what you plan to do?”

“That would imply that I’ve thought past today so… no.” You sat on the side of the bed facing the window. There was no way to open the window so this was as close to the breeze and the stars as you could get. “But it happens. People drift apart even after being as close as we were especially after traumatic stuff like this. And this is a pretty messed up thing we’re dealing with, Liu. I can’t pretend to know what will happen.”

“I don’t want to drift apart.” He sat next to you and cautiously placed a hand over yours on the bed between you. There were times where he treated you like a ticking time bomb. This was one of them.

“Of course not, Liu. I don’t want that to happen either.”

“You had that scenario pretty thought out.”

“This time, Liu? You’re the one overthinking things.”

“Maybe.” He watched out the window, but you felt his thumb brush over the back of your hand. Looking at the night sky was easier than looking at each other. But right now the night sky looked empty. You didn’t see the stars. Just the lights of busy Los Angeles, a thing which brought you no peace. “Do you think you’ll still be this cute in thirty years?”

“I uh…” You laughed and pretended to consider it. “I didn’t think about it. For the brief moment I considered this make-believe scenario, you were still cute.” You joked and nudged him playfully.

“You’re beautiful Y/N, so I’m sure you will be too.” Liu still didn’t look at you. “I always thought so. Even when I used to tease you.” You rolled your eyes at him in disgust and he laughed again. You were well beyond being bashful at his compliments.

“Cut it out, Liu.”

“I just don’t want to leave it unsaid.”

“It feels like you’re trying to butter me up.” You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“Maybe. Or… perhaps this last week I’ve been cruel to you. I thought that I’d pay you a compliment instead.” That was as good an excuse as any. You had dug at each other quite a bit the past few days.

“I’m not vain.”

“I know. I always liked that about you.”

“Stop it, Liu. You’re freaking me out.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder.

“I won’t.” He leaned back on one arm. You reached for your phone on the bed behind you as it buzzed. Jax had verified the location online as legitimate. He’d even found out that the property belonged to Johnny. Apparently, Jax had been much more suspicious of him than you had been. You’d decided to trust Johnny. And if he lied to you then you’d just go to plan B. Kidnapping. Jax continued on to say that he’s pretty sure the asshole just wanted to show off his beach house. You chuckled. You’d thought the same thing. You replied quickly to ask if you were still to meet in the morning in the same place. Jax replied to be in the lobby by ten. “Going off without a hitch?”

“Are you spying on my conversation?” You cradled the phone protectively against your chest and pouted.

“I didn’t mean to.” You set the phone aside face up. You had nothing to hide anyway, you’d just been trying to lighten the mood. Then you watched the dark sky out the window and tried to find something positive to say about it. He was right. You’d had too much unpleasantness lately. “Kung Lao would have loved…”

“Do you think about that a lot? What Kung Lao would have thought or felt?”

“Don’t you?” You thought that was obvious. “We spent most of our time together. This is the longest I’ve been alone in years.”

“I… hadn’t considered that.” Liu’s eyes fell to the floor. There was plenty that you hadn’t thought regarding each other. “It must have been hard waking up next to me.” You sighed heavily. There were those difficult conversations you couldn’t seem to avoid. You didn’t know how to respond. That wasn’t an easy answer. If you could have lied and said it wasn’t weird than it would have been simpler. But lying had gotten you into this in the first place and you didn’t want to lie. You were so tired of hurting.

“I… yes.” You sighed and then closed your eyes tight. “But I confess that I miss being held.” You hated saying it and even got the chills as you did. You and Kung Lao had spent most nights at least next to each other if not tangled up in each other. Liu was watching you with those big sad puppy dog eyes of his again. “But I also feel selfish and awful for having briefly thought it was nice.”

“It’s okay to be selfish at times.” He clasped his hands together in his lap, as if nervous they would betray him as they had often done. “I confess that when I woke up alone, I panicked.” You smiled a little. You hadn’t considered that he would be upset to wake up alone after falling asleep next to you. Oh, boy. You were both a mess. “But then I remembered this was your room and you had nowhere to run, really.”

“Did you briefly consider that I was so dedicated to running away that I went and got another hotel room to avoid you?”

“No.” He laughed and then furrowed his brow as if trying to picture you doing that. “You didn’t consider that, did you?”

“Of course not.” You chuckled, resting your elbows on your knees. “The phone rang and I didn’t want to wake you. That’s about as far as I had thought.” Your head was pounding and you realized all at once that you were clenching your jaw. Ugh, tension headache. “At least this time I woke up with all of my clothes on.” Liu laughed softly and avoided your eyes. Then he laughed harder as if he’d just gotten the joke. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s kind of like déjà vu, isn’t it? You woke up next to me again and then I woke up alone.”

“You know, Liu, I’m trying, but that’s not funny.”

Still he laughed and you watched him in disbelief. Was it you? Were you the one cracking up?

“I have to laugh, Y/N. I have to or I think about how screwed up it is.” He leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His face fell. You turned to watch him in disbelief and your stomach twisted up into knots. “I just couldn’t help myself, could I? I had to… cross that line.”

“Liu…” You didn’t want to fight again. You thought you had made a truce for the day.

“I have to say this, Y/N.” He turned his head to the side to look at you and you leaned on your side to better meet his eyes. They were so sad and it was killing you. “The woman that Kung Lao planned to spend the rest of his life with. Only a little while after he’s gone and I just… how selfish I am.” You searched his troubled eyes and then couldn’t help but laugh but you weren’t smiling either. Liu knit his brow in confusion.

“Liu, I… I said the same things to myself.” You offered a sympathetic smile but he didn’t seem relieved to hear that. “Not about you, obviously. I don’t think I’ve ever used the word selfish when describing you, really. Or at least meant it. Maybe out of anger… but I… how could I? Kung Lao’s best friend. His brother. I feel like I just lost him and I still, somehow, couldn’t manage to keep myself together well enough not to sleep with you.”

“Sometimes we’re a lot alike.”

“Most times it feels like we’re oil and water.” Now you avoided his eyes, afraid of what yours might reveal to him. “I’m sorry that I ran off that morning, Liu. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified and embarrassed and ashamed and… the idea of having to talk to you about it was too much.”

“Why were you so scared?” He turned on his side to face you, as if eager for this answer, as if he had been caught wondering that same thing for too long. “I know it was a… big thing but I…”

“I guess no matter how I played it in my head, it went wrong. You uh…” You were having a difficult time saying the words without getting upset. “I kept picturing us having to find a way to… be okay with… it being a mistake because… I…” You were frustrated with yourself for not being able to say it. “It felt like a mistake. Like we’d fallen into an old habit. Or that it was just… a transaction and I couldn’t hear those words again after everything. I was already falling apart and I don’t know what that would have done to me. And then… you being receptive to it would have been just as painful… I… Kung Lao…” You had to stop there. You were pretty sure you’d made your point.

“I think I get it.” His eyes were taking you in while yours were avoiding him and were most likely glassy with tears. “Maybe I didn’t consider how much I’d hurt you back then. It never crossed my mind until you brought it back up and I realized the damage I’d done. I hadn’t considered myself that important.” There was that similarity again. Neither one of you thought yourselves to be important to the other when it was far from the truth. “I wish I’d had a say in the matter that morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand now.” He sat up and offered you a hand to help your back up too. you took it and sat up with him but he didn’t let go of your hand. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I reacted so angrily. That I was so cold to you. I thought it might make things easier and put distance between us.”

“Did it work?”

“No. No, it didn’t. I wish, more than anything, that I could go back.” His eyes were dripping with sincerity and you avoided his gaze again. You couldn’t help but think that if this had been Kung Lao, you never would have had this conversation. Nothing ever would have gotten resolved. You had both avoided your emotions like the plague.

“To that morning? Hard pass, Liu.”

“Think about it. I could wake up with you. Keep you from running. We could talk.”

“That’s a fantasy, Liu. It wouldn’t have ended the way you want.” You threw him an accusatory glance. “You’re fantasizing. I was too panicked. I would have lashed out.”

“And maybe I could have kept a level head.”

“It’s a fantasy.”

“Let me have my fantasy, Y/N.” He laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. His smile faded as he let go of your hand and closed some of the distance between you. Your instinct was to pull back but you didn’t. He pushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. The loose strands of your long hair tickled your neck as they fell back into place. You turned your gaze away. His hand was warm as it rested on your cheek and you could feel him admiring you.

“Seems dangerous to let you.”

“Many good things can be dangerous, Y/N,” he whispered. You got the shivers and moistened your lips nervously. You should have moved back when you’d wanted to. You were so much closer than you’d realized and his lips brushed just against yours. He was going to kiss you and you knew what would happen. Tender kisses led to feverish kisses. No kiss between you had ever stayed just that. You had never once exchanged a soft, momentary kiss. Every single time you had wound up in his arms. His lips would treasure yours like they were something priceless and yours would tease his in return to make him want more. Then you’d be naked.

The more time you spent this close to Liu the more inevitable it seemed to wind up in his bed and you weren’t sure that was the right thing. You weren’t sure it wouldn’t destroy you. It was a dangerous way to think but he was right too. Many of the best things were often dangerous.

“Don’t.” You managed and caught his eyes, half-lidded and admiring your lips. His gaze snapped back up to yours and you watched as he took a careful breath. You could feel it against your lips. He was thinking it too. How dangerous this had become.

“Probably a bad idea, right?” His voice was low and just for you.

“An incredibly bad idea.” You tried to joke but your words fell flat. It was miserable being this close to him and not kissing him, against every instinct in your body. You could feel as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, as he weighed the pros and cons of defying you. You held your breath.

Then he scooted back a few inches. You felt like you could suddenly breathe, like the air was less thick than it had been so close to him. Your heart was hammering away and it was a headrush, as if to punish you for having wanted that kiss. You cleared your throat and put more distance between you. But try as you might, you couldn’t stop thinking about those marks you’d left on his back that you had so clearly felt earlier. Did he think of how you’d clung to him in passion every time he shifted and felt those scabs? That was truly a dangerous thought.

“It’s late. I should go.” He had turned away, but his eyes were wide and his breath was short, as though he were also fighting dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah. Good idea.” You got up and walked past him and around the bed. He followed you and then walked past you to the door. Then he bowed politely.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He looked hesitant, as if he were still considering crossing that line again.

“Get out, Liu.” You gestured to the door behind him, making the choice for him. He laughed and did just as you asked. Once he’d gone, you leaned against the door with a thud and whined. “What am I doing?” You closed your eyes tight and felt a wave of guilt weigh you down. Then you flipped the swing bar lock shut on the door as if this would provide you with protection from your stupid feelings.

Maybe you had to reconsider the situation.

Maybe this was inevitable.

Maybe guilt wasn’t enough to keep you from being attracted to Liu Kang.

It felt wrong. It felt like you were betraying Kung Lao. It was too soon and you were too broken. But maybe someday it wouldn’t be those things. You weren’t sure how long either one of you could wait either. Spending the afternoon with Liu had been eye opening.

Next Chapter >>

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 4 years

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𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

pairing: loki x godess!reader word count: 1.995 plot: you can stop the time, but you can’t make your memories disappear. unspoken love.

you and loki were old friends to each other. caring flowers or braiding it into a crown for the two of you in the asgardian gardens, trying to fly across the fields in the mountains, loki grabbing your hand while rolling in the smooth grass –or catching the other in the big hall of the palace, your steps echoing in the silence. best friends, as the two of you said –you chose him always over thor and his friends, squatting down beside him as he studied a snake, just to change into one after.

he never hurt you. not even when he wanted to, when he was annoyed and felt teased because of the guys you used to talk with. when loki transformed into a snake, he sneaked up onto your neck or collarbone, like a shining necklace or chiffon, even giving protection to your incidentally imposed skins in front of the nation of asgard. when you were sad or upset, he changed into another's body to mock them, just to make you smile. hell, he even wanted to transform into you, to make all those guys walk away, or reject them by yourself –but he never wanted bad to you, ever.

after all those years, you were involved into the avengers’ group, fighting on their site, while visiting asgard all the time you can –when he was there, those days were the best days of your life, giving sore and heart-aching memories when you found the throne room or his department empty. you had the power of time, power above controlling it, slow it, fasten it, stop it –just with the snap of your fingers. loki helped you to boss these abilities, and thanks to him, you were now a powerful, strong goddess, who even had the power to dominate above other’s lives and destiny. if he ever got to know about what you were doing now… wherever he was, you prayed so much to him just to see why you were fighting for, how well can you defend the object of your faith. you knew that he would be proud of you, holding your shoulders to look down at you with an adoring smile –he only provoked himself in front of you, to see his kind, worshipful side–, to say something only he knows, and only wants to share with you, and nobody else.

but when thanos came, everything went wrong. too wrong. you didn’t have the chance to find him and thor, even bruce, and you weren't able to go back to asgard, thanks to hela –you just go to wait, until your best friend’s brother doesn't come back to midgard. and what you heard about loki... that broke your heart, too much. the sorrow, the mourning were way too strong in your heart to anything else, he can’t die, you chanted to yourself in your brain endlessly, he didn’t die, he didn’t die, he didn’t die, he didn’t– he was so powerful, he was so malicious, yet funny and caring towards you, hel, he was the god of mischief, he wasn’t even able to end a fight with a beat! but you had to get up for him, to fight for him, to fight for all the things you were desperate to protect, to prove for everybody that he taught you well, he was the only one who trusted you, the only one who believed in you. you can’t let him down, not now. not in the biggest, most painful hour of the necessity.

you went with steve, tony, bruce and scott, back into 2012. it was so galling, so odd without loki –and maybe because you weren't here, you were busy with the protection of vanaheim, but you helped him to escape somehow –you were there to him, for him. but now, seeing the ruined, scrambled city, the destroyed, high towers that were just as high as one of the masts of asgard’s majestic palace, you knew he messed up a little bit. yet, he was born for this, so who’s gonna consume this, if not him? by the lack of time, you got to go with tony, but in another way: overtaking hulk, you got to make sure that nothing goes wrong, you hurried down as fast as you can, noticing from the slight gap of the door the 2012-ish loki and thor. your heart throbbed when you saw him; did you forget how handsome is he? although, his mouth was covered –bringing up the memories when you helped him to get free–, but he was just your same old friend. a sudden idea flew into your mind; should you warn him? should you say to him, that he’s gonna be in danger, and he’s gonna– he’s gonna get your heart broken? your middle finger and thumb unwittingly sneaked beside each other, you wanted to give him advice so badly.

slipping from the door, you thanked yourself because in the next moment, hulk broke the stairway’s entry in half, bringing some attention to himself, and most importantly, tearing the tesseract from tony. what the hel, you thought, immediately moving, hearing the clink of the parting case’s locks –the bright blue light broke the sunlight. following with your eyes, the stone landed slowly, clashing into somebody’s foot –loki’s foot.

you had to think fast, should it be responsible, stopping the time and using it only for your good? you never used it for just for yourself, the cause always held intercourse with something else than only your goals. but… what if this is the last you can see him? does it really earn to just talk to him and– seeing him grabbing the stone, you knew already. yes, it’s worth it. it’s always worth it, even when you think you’re not; how can he not earn that level of the importance? do it, y/n.

snap!

everything went blurry around the two of you –all the staff, all tony and hulk, all the employees, all the sunny hall. silence coated the void, you know you needed to say something, anything before he disappears again.

“loki?”

he stood with his back against you, concentrating on the tesseract, wanting to escape as fast as he can –his shoulders now tensed, thinking someone’s playing a trick on him. then, he turned around, couldn't say a word, just stared at you –how… how can you be here, when you were supposed to be in vanaheim? you hurried there, standing in front of him, slowly taking off the thing that kept his mouth shut. “are you okay, my best friend?” you reassure him that you remember, after all those times, all the decades and centuries, you’re still his best friend –or even more, but it’s not necessary now. he dropped the stone between the two of you, holding your hair and your shoulder as he always used to do.

“y/n, my dearest… what are you doing here?” he asked, and you hated the fact of his tied hands, even if the chain was longer. “are you warning me? you supposed to be… far away, what are you looking for?”

everytime when he’s with you, his walls fall down –no, he lets down his own walls. speaking softer, holding you like a pearl from the deepness of the oceans or the precious stars from the sky. your eyes get irritated by the want to keep up your straight, yet lovely face –he asks so innocently from you, not like his brother, not like his father; loki wants reassurance from you. you can’t resist the giving, don’t you?

“i’m, i’m… here, for– looking out for you. perhaps, or surely now, vanaheim is alright, and–” you babble, hoping that he’s believing in you, even if he knows your obvious lies that slips out from your mouth. “sweetness, why didn’t you tell me? we could travel all around the nine realms, just you and me, like the old friends we used to be.” you swallowing a little bit, his promising eyes are so fallible, so fragile. that’s what you want –being with him ‘till the end of time, end of everything.

“don’t say this. we’re still best friends. friends forever, even if something happens to one of us–” your eyes widen a little bit. you almost told him, hel! loki strokes your hair, his other hand slips from your shoulder to the connecting of your shoulder and neck, maybe closer to your neck; his hands are so big and tender, caring you the best way possible. all. the. time. his brows furrow, still smiling, not like he knows you don’t tell him something, but like he enjoys your presence. holding into his arms slightly, your fingers graze the silky, green matter under his armour.

“you're not the pretty girl i know at all, are you?”

your breath hitches; how can you say all those things that led you to this? your time is not enough, and his question… what? you were whole with him, from toe to top, how can you be the same without him?

“i mean, you’re still pretty, the prettiest girl i ever met, just–”

“i don’t know, loki… i don’t know who i am. it’s just… strange, i don’t know how to explain.” you whisper, smiling sadly, telling him the truth is one of the best feelings in your world.

“then you don’t have to. don’t hurt yourself, sweetness.” he stroked your cheek, trying to help you relax.

“i just… i–” you can’t say that to him. too dangerous, possibly can mess up the whole timeline, and you… you’re not here for him, no matter how much you want; you’re there to save the earth, so many’s life. “please… stay safe, okay? don’t do anything crazy, promise to me, please.” you pleaded, either if you knew that he’s never gonna change. that’s his nature, his design –and that’s why you want him so much. loki smiles worryingly, a little bit somber, but he nods.

“as you want, princess.” and with that, you let one tear slip away, tilting your forehead to his chin, trying to stay the strongest, trying not to escape with him, the need of being in his near, being with him is too big to handle, even for a minute long. maybe you didn’t need to go down to earth, to protect vanaheim, to do everything so far away from him –your heart stinged on the broken promises that lie now just as shattered pieces.

you’re not ready to let go of him. you never gonna be ready enough, and that’s okay.

because you love him, more than everyone, more than anyone anytime, ever in your life.

just stay alive, best friend. stay alive, my love, the only light spot in my haunted, dark hole of life.

thinking about what you should say, so many unspoken words, so much unspoken confessions. so speechless three-word-sentences.

“thank you.”

you don’t wait another second, stepping away from him, losing his heavenly touch, snapping again. everything goes sharp and full of life, one of the guards pushing you out from the way as they hurry to get to tony and hulk; loki picks up the stone again, but before holding it fully, he looks at you. you don’t want to read his eyes, don’t want to explain anything into his stare –does he try to get you to go with him, only with his look? instead of moving towards him, you only nod, gawping a silent “i love you”, hoping he gets it.

and he gets.

because in the next moment –you can’t hear because of the arguing of the men in the back, or just by the reason of the thumping blood in your ears– loki recites it. when he disappears in the haze of the grey and blue shadows, a drear, dry smile hustle onto your face. it’s totally nonsense that you hear it, or not,

either way,

you’re always gonna be his.

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satendou · 4 years

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⟼ distance

⍣ 365 days of sun series | next | 1/2

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⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime/reader/oikawa tooru

⇢ au: 365!au, poly!au, college!au, pro!oikawa

⇢ summary: prequel to 365 days; oikawa goes to argentina, leaving you and iwaizumi behind

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: pre-relationship, cursing, fluff, mild angst

⇢ word count: 6757

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⇢ a/n: a few things. 1) i did not particularly care for how correct the timeline is or how correct the actual offer, signing, etc happens. 2) the cut is a little weird bc i when i wrote this, i wrote as one fic but it turned out to be 18k words so...no. 3) i love this whole fic sm so i hope you guys do too!

“I’ve had an offer.”

Oikawa’s voice cut through the sound of your and Iwaizumi’s playful arguing and the sound of video game music that filled the room.

“That’s great news, Tooru!” you exclaimed, looking up at him leaned against the door. Your smile fell when you met his eyes, a pained mix of happy and uncertain. It was such a rare look that you couldn’t place any moment in recent memory that you had seen it.

“What?” you asked, setting the controller on the table. The sound playing from the TV cut out without warning, and Iwaizumi shifted on the couch beside you, leaning close enough that you could feel his warmth through your sweater. It was mid-winter in Tokyo and you had stayed home after classes were cancelled, choosing to hang out together rather than frolic in the snow. “Tooru?”

He bit his lip as he considered the news he had just been delivered. It was an actual dream come true, exactly what he had wanted all this time. But then why did it feel like someone had just punched him in the stomach? “The offer is for um, a team down in--” He sighed. “--in Argentina. It’s one of the top teams in the world, and they want me to be first string.”

“Oh.”

You said it at the same time as Iwaizumi, both staring at Oikawa’s pained expression.

“Then you need to take it,” Iwaizumi continued, his sharp words cutting through the tense air like a knife. He knew what Oikawa was thinking, what he was worried about, and couldn’t let him think no one would support him. He’d be lost without his best friend, but this was Oikawa’s chance at his dream. “And Argentina is far enough away that we won’t have to deal with you anymore. We deserve a break from your drama.”

You smacked him on the arm for that, but Oikawa chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I know you’ll actually really miss me, you adorable tsun. I’ll come back to visit, so don’t give away my room,” he said, and you were relieved to see his expression lighten. He kicked off from the door and plopped down on the couch beside you, slinging his arm around your shoulders. “And I know our dear _____ is going to be so lonely without me.”

You mimed throwing up into Iwaizumi’s lap. “Like hell. It’ll be so peaceful without you here. _____, my girlfriend broke up with me for the third time. Iwa-chan, why hasn’t she texted me back it’s been two minutes.”

“_____, can you bring me an ice pack? My dumbass overdid it again and my knee hurts,” Iwaizumi mocked, and Oikawa yelped in indignation.

“I do not sound like that or say those things,” he said, pulling his arm from your shoulders to cross them over his chest. There was a warm glow in his heart as the three of you bantered, stemming from the undying support the two of you had always given him in the pursuit of his dreams-- even if you were really mean to him while doing it. “Thank you, guys.”

You stopped laughing at him, both you and Iwaizumi turning to stare at him before you smiled. “You sap. Of course we’re going to support you no matter what! We’re gonna miss you, though. Like, bad,” you answered, and your throat tightened a little at the thought of him being halfway around the world. The three of you had been inseparable for years, even ending up attending the same college in Tokyo, though that had been because it had the best courses for the majors you and Iwaizumi wanted and Oikawa loved their volleyball team. It was a no brainer to get an apartment together when you found out you’d all been accepted either.

“Speak for yourself, _____. I’ll be glad when he’s gone. And don’t expect us to run all over the world chasing you, either,” Iwa said, picking up the controller off the table again and unmuting the TV. As soon as he unpaused the game, his character died. “Goddammit.”

“You really deserve this, Tooru. More than anyone,” you said, bumping against his shoulder.

Oikawa looked down at your face, eyes lit up with happiness as you smiled. He hid his face in the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo with a grin, warmth bubbling in his chest all over again. He was finally going to live his dream and he had the two people he loved most in the world at his back. He couldn’t imagine anything better than that.

So many words danced on his tongue, his thoughts a jumbled mess and he opened his mouth to let them spill out.

“Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I?” You groaned as Iwaizumi reached around you to smack the back of his head, and he snickered into your hair, his arms squeezing you into his side. “I love you guys.”

Picking up the controller, you let him cling to you like the monkey he was as you rejoined the game. “Yeah, sure, Shittykawa. We love you too.”

There was a lot of planning after he accepted the offer, outside of what the agency would take care of. He just had to find an apartment within his budget and they would take care of securing it for him before he arrived, and travel was taken care of.

Naturally, what was his responsibility became yours.

“Don’t you own anything besides basketball shorts and sweatpants?” you asked, holding up what had to be the sixtieth pair of shorts in the last thirty minutes. You were helping him pick out what clothes he was going to be taking to San Juan with him, leaving the rest in his room in Tokyo for when he visited. They all smelled like him, the light and breezy cologne he wore that seemed to stick to everything, including you.

You were struck by the realization that when he left, that smell would fade from everything, including you. And the idea that you would never be teased for smelling like Oikawa again caused your heart to clench.

Your face must have twisted because Oikawa’s happy babbling cut off.

“_____? What is it?” Setting the longsleeve t-shirt he held in his hands aside, he turned to fully face you while you turned fully away from him. He gripped your shoulders, trying to force you to turn to look at him, which you resisted at first. When he heard the light sniffling though, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Fast as lightning, you turned and threw your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his shoulder. Without hesitation, he hauled you closer, rubbing your back as you cried into his neck. Between sobs you managed to choke out, “I’m gonna miss your stupid face so much. And what am I gonna do when the apartment stops smelling like your cheapass cologne? Am I gonna have to wear it?”

Your fingers twisted in the soft white t-shirt he wore. You hadn’t meant to cry, really you hadn’t, because you knew things like this would only make it harder for him to leave. And as much as you did want him to stay here with you, you also knew he would never be happy unless he was in the spotlight playing volleyball. But your tears soaked his shirt anyway as you tried to stifle your sniffling.

He burst into laughter at your childish whining, rocking you back and forth in his arms.

“Awe, I already knew that, princess. Everyone’s going to miss me,” he said, putting on that smug air that came so naturally. He was just trying to cheer you up though, and you could see through him like a window, laughing into his shoulder.

One hand curled into your hair, holding you close as he took in your warmth and your sadness. It was a mirror to his own, tempered by a cautious enthusiasm that his future-- and his dreams-- were about to take off. He was being selfish throughout all of this-- selfishly keeping you close while selfishly leaving you at the same time.

That warmth he always felt whenever you were close welled up again, and he smiled.

“I’ll miss you too, you know,” he whispered into your hair, and felt your arms slide back up around his neck, squeezing so tight he thought his breathing would stop. “You and Iwa, more than anyone.”

“Well, you’ll come back,” you whispered back, resting your cheek on his shoulder, facing away from his neck. “You’re like a parasite. We’ll never be rid of you.”

Oikawa’s shoulders shook underneath your head and you smiled.

“Help me pick apartments,” Oikawa demanded, folding himself into the empty seat beside Iwaizumi. He had his laptop in hand, a dozen or so tabs open to different apartments near the stadium his new team called home. He would be leaving in a few days to check them and the stadium out, and likely to sign the contract while he was down there. Truth be told, he was nervous.

“Don’t you have any manners, you damn brat?” Iwaizumi asked, even as he set his phone to the side. He’d been surfing through DoorDash, looking for something to get for dinner. You would be home from classes soon and no doubt starving. “I’m ordering dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. _____ said she was going to stop and pick up something for us. I requested takoyaki, but she said she wasn’t feeling it,” Oikawa answered with a pout.

“Probably,” Iwaizumi said as Oikawa flipped to the first tab and he turned the screen to show him, “because she’s been doing labs with crustaceans in biology all week.”

It was a 3 bedroom, 2 bath with an open floor plan and a lot of windows. Newly refurbished and expensive. Not that Oikawa wouldn’t be able to afford it.

Iwaizumi shrugged. It wasn’t terrible, and definitely Oikawa’s style. He liked lots of natural light for his Instagram photos, and that apartment definitely provided.

“I should’ve waited for _____,” he grumbled, but flipped to the next one anyway.

Another 3 bedroom, 2 bath, smaller than the last and darker, in both light and color scheme, but no less expensive. Instantly Iwaizumi grunted and shook his head, and there was a small gratification as Oikawa instantly X’d out of the tab, letting it get lost in the void.

If there was one thing Oikawa valued above a volleyball player’s skills, it was your and Iwaizumi’s opinions. You knew him just as well as he knew himself, and better, in some ways. If Iwaizumi thought that apartment wasn’t good enough, then it wasn’t good enough.

The next few went much the same way. 3 bedroom, 2 bath, too dark or too small, too old-school or too extravagant. Each and every time Iwaizumi said no, Oikawa was secretly relieved to click the X button. A lot of the apartments he’d found weren’t to his taste, but he also knew his tastes were dramatic, hence the need for Iwaizumi’s down-to-earth opinions.

“Hey, I have a question,” Iwaizumi said when apartment number nine was bookmarked. It was a close contender with number one, the only other one he had agreed with. He knew Oikawa would never be happy living in a closed in, dark space. He was a lot like a plant.

A really mouthy, annoying plant. Like that tentacuwhatever from Harry Potter. Clingy and needed attention nonstop or else he’d cause trouble. What was he saying?

Oh right.

Oikawa paused his scrolling to look up at Iwaizumi, who had settled back into the couch, his arm slung across the back just above Oikawa’s shoulders. With his leg pressed to his, Oikawa was practically tucked into his side as they fought to both see the laptop screen.

“What’s that, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi leaned back in, his cheek right next to Oikawa’s. “Why are all these apartments three bedroom?”

In response, Oikawa spluttered. “Well, I mean, you know, it’s for if-- if friends want to come stay for a while or-- or you know. Geez, Iwa-chan, I do have those you know. And I’ll make more in Argentina. Might even replace you, if you aren’t careful.”

Iwaizumi’s arm curled tight around Oikawa’s neck then, his voice dangerously low as he growled, “No one will ever put up with you like I do, so good luck.”

Smirking, he pulled away and settled back down into the couch, picking his phone up again to see a text from you, asking if soba was alright for dinner. Typing his response, he said to Oikawa, “Soba is for dinner. And you may as well close out of the other tabs. I think the first one is the best one. Think we could come with you and pick out our rooms for ourselves?”

Oikawa choked.

The day of his permanent departure finally arrived.

To all three of you, it felt too quick and sudden, like you had blinked and the time had disappeared while your eyes were closed. All that morning, the three of you skirted around the topic as you dealt with the last minute details.

“Hey, you want this shirt right? You better--”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Oi, Shit-- Tooru, you’re forgetting these, dumbass, and I’m not mailing ‘em to you.”

As the time whittled down to nothing, you found yourselves standing in the living room, staring at each other. You had sworn up and down that you wouldn’t get sappy or cry or do anything to make it any harder on Oikawa than it already clearly was. But the tension in the air, the strange, manic sparkle in his eyes as he stared the two of you down broke whatever resolve you had and you threw yourself at him, tears welling in your eyes.

His fingers, previously wrapped around the handle of his suitcase, found their way into your hair, his other arm winding around you as the suitcase hit the floor with a clattering of plastic, squeezing you tight enough to force the air from your lungs. And yet it wasn’t close enough, one arm around his shoulders and the other around his back, pressing yourself even closer, until there wasn’t an ounce of space between you.

Against your will, the tears spilled over and wetted his shirt, but he paid it no mind, too lost in breathing in the smell of your shampoo and the feel of your warmth for close to the last time.

Behind you, Iwaizumi sighed, turning his eyes up to the ceiling, thankful that Oikawa’s eyes were closed so he couldn’t see the glittering in his own. Much as he might like to give his friend hell, he was going to miss him. A lot. More than he liked to admit.

Another set of arms came around you, completing the missing piece as you stood there and cried into Oikawa’s chest. You could feel tears in your hair and it only made you squeeze him tighter. The urge, the need to ask him to stay, just for another day, welled up so strong you had to bite your tongue to keep the words in. Truth be told, you weren’t sure if he would say no, but no way were you going to put him in that position.

“We’re gonna be late, Oikawa,” you whispered into his shirt and felt him nod against your head, but no one made a move to pull away.

It took all your willpower-- and a few elbows in a few ribs-- to pull away from them. Oikawa’s lips parted, his hands still reaching out for you, and you took one while Iwaizumi picked up his forgotten suitcase.

“Oi, Lazykawa,” he barked, “I’ll get this, you get your carry-on. _____, make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

At that, Oikawa gasped in mock outrage, placing his free hand over his heart and affecting a hurt tone. “How could you think so low of me, Iwa-chan? Do you think I’m so stupid?”

From the hallway, a very deadpan, “Yes,” rang out and you snorted in laughter.

“Really, Tooru, how could you not see that coming?” you asked while he picked up his bag. His fingers stayed laced with yours while you locked the door behind you. Doing it one handed was difficult and took longer than if you’d had your other hand, but neither of you were inclined to let go.

Iwaizumi was waiting impatiently outside the taxi, his foot tapping arrhythmically against the snowy pavement. His fingers were freezing and his eyes narrowed as he watched the two of you walk down the stairs hand in hand, both wearing sad smiles as you looked back at him.

“If you two take any longer he’s gonna miss his flight,” he snapped, holding the door open for both of you. His mood settled when you patted his cheek before sliding in beside Oikawa. It was a bit cramped with two 6’ tall athletes wedged into the tight space, but frankly there weren’t a lot of other places you’d rather be.

Now if only you weren’t stuck between them on your way to the airport to see one of them off to the other side of the freakin’ world.

The ride, in typical fashion when doing something you don’t want to do, took both too long and not enough time. You filled it with jokes and memories as each held one of your hands, mostly about what you thought San Juan would be like and of games he and Iwaizumi had played in while you cheered your heart out in the stands.

Their number one fanatic, they affectionately called you. A lot of your highschool career was spent with them just because there was so much jealousy among the other students that you were so close to them. You were grateful to them for so much you couldn’t even begin to list them all, but you could at least say number one on the list was loving you the way they did.

Oikawa was met at the airport by some diehard fans and his family, all teary eyed and clamoring for his attention, and you looked at Iwaizumi. He shared a resigned, grateful expression with you, glad you had said your goodbyes in the privacy of your apartment. There was no way you were going to get it here, surrounded the way he was.

While you stood on the outskirts, watching Oikawa smile and simper for everyone while making his way further inside, he looked back and his smile changed. From polite and sweet, it morphed into something genuine and deep, and even from a distance you could see the glitter in his eyes.

He laughed and said something, and the tone of the crowd changed, dispersing slowly until it was only his family left. Something was said to his mother, who was clinging to his hand with tears streaming down her cheeks, then he was making his way towards the two of you.

“I’ve only got a few minutes before I have to check in so I…” he said, but trailed off, scratching the back of his head. The words were stuck in his throat, too hard to say to the two of you. He could put on a show for the crowd all day, playing the part but as soon as he was placed in front of you, it was like someone had corked him. “I’m really gonna miss you guys. Who’s gonna cheer me on at games now?”

A sigh rode on the tail of the laugh that escaped you while Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed, looking very much like he was going to kick Oikawa into the luggage carousel.

“Oh, I don’t know, you dumbass. Maybe the thousands of adoring fans you’re going to gain with your face plastered all over national television?” he asked, his fingers flexing with the restrained urge. It was muscle memory at this point, he couldn’t be blamed.

Oikawa’s face fell, though Iwaizumi’s voice held no bite and Oikawa wasn’t really upset. Setting his hand on his hip, he pointed at Iwaizumi. “It won’t be the same and you know it. You better watch every game. I’ll know if you haven’t.”

Iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. “How are you gonna know, idiot?”

Oikawa’s arm snaked around your shoulder, still pointing to Iwaizumi as he tugged you into his side. The smile he wore was somehow both fake and so genuine it almost hurt to look at. “Well, our little _____ will tell me if you haven’t, won’t you?”

Before you could answer, the loudspeaker sounded, announcing his flight was ready for check-in, and all the humor left you in a breath.

“Tooru,” his mother called, beckoning towards him with her hands.

“Just a minute, mom,” he called over his shoulder, and his typically playful eyes were soft as he stared down at you. One hand took yours while the other met your cheek, thumb wiping away the tear that had managed to escape without your notice. “I’ll call you when I land. And text you every day. And you better not let anyone take my room, I’ll need somewhere to sleep when I come back to visit. Lord knows I won’t be able to stay with them while I’m here.”

“Tooru,” his mother called again, sounding desperate now. You couldn’t blame her, Oikawa had spent an altogether longer time saying goodbye to you than he had with them since he’d arrived. Besides, the place his family held in line for him was moving forward rapidly-- as rapidly as the time you had left with him was shortening.

“You better not forget us, Tooru, or we’ll come down to Argentina and kick your ass,” you said, all three of you stumbling towards the line. He ducked under the rope, still holding your hand in a death grip, still unwilling to let go. “Or Haji will. I’ll keep a lookout so we don’t get arrested.”

At that, all three of you burst into laughter, the action causing the dam to break and then you were all crying too. In a split second decision Oikawa couldn’t explain, he leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead in a chaste kiss, letting it linger there as he said, “I could never forget you. Either of you. My best friends and the people I love the most.”

“Love you too, Tooru. Give ‘em hell,” you whispered into his chest before pulling away.

“Go, before your family has a shit fit,” Iwaizumi said, pushing at his shoulder. But Oikawa’s hand covered his for a fraction of a second and squeezed with strength that only came with practicing serves for hours on end. Some unnamed emotion flitted in his eyes, but Iwaizumi nodded in understanding. “Come see us soon, alright?”

Oikawa’s throat tightened until all he could do was nod. With one last look at you, he turned and walked towards the front of the line, becoming obscured by the throngs of people.

An arm came around Iwaizumi’s waist and he instinctively curled his around your shoulders. He could feel the tears wetting his shoulder, where your face was pressed into his shirt. His own throat was sore as he held his tears back and he rubbed your arm as he fought to catch just one last glimpse of the last third of his trio.

But he was gone, off to the other side of the world and away from you. Some cynical part of Iwaizumi said he was gone forever, that in typical Oikawa fashion he would get down there and completely forget about the two of you. That wasn’t what the more rational side said, though. That side said he was being completely unfair to his friend, and he was inclined to agree with it more.

Leading you back out to the entrance, he hailed a taxi and helped you in, where you wrapped yourself around him again, causing him to laugh.

“It isn’t forever, you know,” he said, petting your hair. Of course, he would never tell you what he had been thinking just a few minutes ago. It wouldn’t help, even if it did turn out to be true. “We’ll see him again, probably a lot sooner than we’d like.”

As if to prove his point, both of your phones pinged with a new notification.

When you swiped them open, you found a message in the group chat that was so typical of Oikawa that Iwaizumi snorted before you both burst into laughter.

‘First class sucks without anyone to share it with. And the wine is bleh. I miss u guys :(‘

Each of you answered, Iwaizumi with a typical ‘you’re an idiot’ and you with an ‘i miss u too bby :’(‘.

You received one last text, telling you he had to shut his phone off and then you settled your head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder to stare out the window. The scenery passed by in a blur while you focused on Iwaizumi’s rough thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

After a few minutes, you hummed thoughtfully. “What should we get for dinner?”

“How does takoyaki sound?”

It was several months after Oikawa had left and both you and Iwaizumi were coming up on a small break from school. Since he’d left, Oikawa’s texts and calls had been spotty at best, though he made the effort to send a goodnight text into the group chat every night. When he’d first realized that he was failing in his promise, he’d apologized while telling you he would try harder.

Iwaizumi had shut that down real quick and you could imagine him tapping on his phone furiously during study period, wearing a scowl that would have had Oikawa cowering in the corner if he’d seen it.

‘Shut up, idiot. You’re training, right? Then train. We’re adults. We understand, right, _____?’

In your biology class, you had snuck a quick response. Even as adults, your teacher was a real bastard about using phones in class, and being caught could end in a pop quiz.

‘Yeah, you brat. Stop stretching yourself so thin or they’ll kick you out and you’ll have to come back to Japan and start all over,’ you typed, having to erase the word ‘home’ in favor of something less...that. Sometimes the way Oikawa talked, when your schedules lined up and you could talk on the phone properly, he sounded like all you’d have to do was ask and he’d be on the first plane out of San Juan. Even he still slipped up and called it home, often correcting himself afterwards as if to convince himself.

After that, he stopped apologizing, but he also stopped responding nearly as much. That didn’t stop you from using the group chat. You could see where Oikawa had read and reacted to certain messages and knew that even if he was busy, he was still there. And that in itself made the separation easier.

Two weeks before that break started, you received a long text in the group chat, both of your phones going off on the table. Only Iwaizumi picked his up, already knowing who it was from-- the chat had a special tone, so you knew whether to pick it up immediately or not.

‘Hey guys, I know this is sudden and a little short notice, but you have that break coming up, don’t you? I’m going to have my first game down here during that time so I was wondering if you’d want to come down and visit? Ik it’s only been a few months but you know how much i miss your stupid faces, and san juan is so pretty this time of year. I can pay for the tickets down here (obviously) and your rooms already have beds so you can stay with me! Isn’t that great? I have to go, but let me know!’

Iwaizumi stared at the text, a vein ticking in his forehead, while you read over his shoulder. It was clear Oikawa was excited at the prospect, but planning a trip like that in only two weeks was going to be hell.

“Does he even realize how full of himself he sounds?” Iwaizumi snapped, crossing his arms over his chest after you took his phone. “‘I can pay for the tickets’-- my ass. I’m gonna beat him senseless when we see him.”

“So…” you said, already typing away on his phone, “does that mean I should tell him to buy two tickets, since he’s so kindly offered?”

He caught sight of your smirk and followed it up with one of his own, belatedly realizing what he’d just said. “Well, since he can obviously afford it, may as well let him.”

You sent the text out without making any changes and Iwaizumi didn’t know if he should kiss you or smack you.

Oikawa was a lot more active in chat over the next couple of weeks, talking nonstop about how excited he was to see you. Iwaizumi was taking the blow up with more grace than you had ever imagined, and then you realized why.

“Haji, aren’t you excited to see Tooru? And I never thought I’d actually go to Argentina. I’m kinda nervous,” you teased one night over takeout and beers. A movie Iwaizumi had picked up while he bought snacks at the store played in the background, though it was so bad neither of you were really paying attention.

He looked up from his phone, where he was no doubt texting Oikawa, looking thoughtful. You expected a huff or a denial, but he surprised you-- a lot, actually.

“Yeah, I’m really excited. It’s been...too quiet without that brat around,” he said, and frowned. “I miss him.”

You set your fork in the takeout box, staring blankly at the TV while you processed that admission. Iwaizumi wasn’t much for talking about his feelings. He was very action oriented, as you and Oikawa knew too well, so to hear him say it meant something.

“I really miss him too, you know,” you murmured, playing with your fingers. It wasn’t something that bothered you too often, but Iwaizumi’s confession had brought it to the forefront of your thoughts and you allowed yourself to wallow just a little. “I can’t wait to see him.”

“I can’t either. I know I don’t say it nearly enough, but I love you both,” he said, his ears heating up at the admission. It was only easy to say in the dark, when he could focus on his phone instead of the embarrassment the words brought. It wasn’t something he said very often, no matter how much he thought it.

You giggled, flicking a fry you had been about to eat at him. “You’re such a sap. Tooru really is rubbing off on you, Haji.”

Throwing it back at you, he playfully snapped, “Don’t compare me to Shittykawa, _____. I’m nothing like him.”

“You’re right. You’re much smarter than he is,” you replied, chucking the fry back into the top part of your takeout box.

It felt so good to just relax and hang out with Iwaizumi. Your schedules had both been so packed with classes and work, and even when one was free the other rarely was, that you hadn’t had a spare moment with him in weeks. It was the first night that you had free since Oikawa first invited you down and, though you had been flooded with requests to go out to bars or clubs, you just wanted to stay in. Expecting to be alone that night too, you were pleasantly surprised when Iwa had shown up with two takeout boxes and a six pack of beer. It felt like all the tension you had been carrying over the last few weeks had dissipated and that things were normal.

Shitty movies, shitty beer, and Iwa. All you really needed was Oikawa, and you would have him in a few days.

Your heart fluttered in your stomach, your chest tightening at the thought of seeing him again. It felt like years had passed since he left, between your hectic schedules and sporadic texts. More than once you had come home exhausted and wanting to just go to bed, maybe cry a little from the stress, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of something missing. The little negative voice in the back of your head would nag as you laid awake, staring at your ceiling, hoping your phone would light up or Iwa would walk through the door and fill the silence of the apartment.

It was nights like that that made you wonder if everything you were doing was worth it, if you were somehow losing Iwaizumi and Oikawa, and the doubt hurt more than anything else. It was a constant tug-of-war with yourself; you knew that eventually you would have to let them go, but only when you were good and ready, and ready you most certainly were not.

There was hope that this trip would help ease some of your doubt and fears, that seeing Oikawa in his element might prove to you that everything the three of you had accomplished made all the long days and sleepless nights worth something. But there was a part of you that was nervous that going down there would prove that the gap you were afraid of truly existed, and then what would you do?

“You know,” Iwaizumi said carefully, watching your face. “I really needed this. I’ve missed you too.”

He didn’t know what you were thinking exactly, but he could see you were well in your own head and that the thoughts weren’t pleasant. The both of you had been under a lot of pressure lately, with finals and jobs and projects over the last few months, and he could tell it was getting to you. Besides that, he had missed you fiercely in the interim, often coming home to find you already asleep or still out. Sometimes you had left him something to eat but other times he was the one leaving you food. Little sticky notes adorned the fridge with thank you’s and other endearing notes to each other as well, reminding each of you that you weren’t alone.

He looked forward to those and the passing moments he could see you in the morning before classes or work. It was the only time you had, sipping coffee as you chatted about meaningless things before rushing around to get ready because you had wasted too much time talking, but you would do it again the next time anyway.

“Same,” you said, smiling. There was an odd feeling in your chest, like you had drank too much coffee, your heart racing far too fast for your liking.

Iwa quirked a brow at the strange look on your face, like an amused grimace, and laughed when you poked your lip out. You glanced at him and the look morphed to one of happiness, and he rolled his eyes. “Come here, stupid. Let’s put Netflix on and watch Wipeout or something.”

He grunted at the impact of you launching yourself at his chest. The couch bounced as you cackled, squirming around until you could lean back his side and he pushed at your head in response, scowling.

“What’s wrong, Iwa?” you asked as you made yourself comfortable, pulling his arm down around your shoulders in a familiar manner. Tilting your head back, you continued to grin maniacally at him. “You seem annoyed.”

“Yeah, that’s because I have a bratty ass roommate who seems intent on aggravating me. Thought I’d seen the end of it when Shittykawa left,” he grumbled, but the corners of his lips turned up, a soft look in his eyes as he scowled. “Guess not.”

He flipped through the Netflix menu, looking for something to watch. They had removed Wipeout, but the search menu pulled up similar titles, and you pointed at the third one down.

“Guess not. What’s ‘The Floor Is Lava’? It looks similar,” you said, and he clicked into it. It was close enough so he hit play. “Anyway what’s new with you? What about that girl from your uh...chemistry class…?”

He had mentioned her a few times in the morning when you were supposed to be getting ready, but her name escaped you. Talking about her brought that same strange feeling back into your chest, and you squinted as you tried to recognize it. It was familiar somehow but foreign too, like you had experienced it before but it was so long ago you had forgotten.

“Oh,” he said, and shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah it-- eh. I didn’t have time to spare and we kinda drifted apart.”

He didn’t tell you that most of the free time he did have was spent with you. At first he had been really into her, but as his schedule became more packed and he spent less time at home, he had had to make a choice. It was one he wasn’t even aware of making until she had pointed it out to him.

“I know she’s your best friend and all, but you spend more time with her than me!” she had griped one evening over video chat. It was the only time he really saw her anymore, and he squirmed at her accusation. It wasn’t incorrect and it left him feeling guilty because it wasn’t fair to her. When he didn’t answer, she scoffed. “Maybe you should date her instead, since you’re so up her ass!”

She had hung up and he had mulled it over for days afterwards, when he couldn’t push it from his mind. It felt wrong to consider you in that way, like he was doing something dirty, and the next time he saw you he felt almost sleazy. Her words flooded his brain again, causing his face to flush, turning away to continue fixing your coffees. It was a while before he felt settled again after that, his heart picking up speed every time your name flashed on his phone-- because of course he didn’t see you for days after that.

He had to tell himself it was normal to want to spend time at home with you rather than go out to bars or crowded restaurants after spending days on end coming in late from classes and work. Because it was normal right? To want to be with you in the comfort of the apartment than out with anyone else?

The tightness in your chest eased at his words, and you giggled, fiddling with his fingers. “Guess that explains why you’re here with me instead of out with her, huh? Kinda sucks, being so busy. We have no free time to do anything.”

Iwa nodded, pinching one of your fingers between his and squeezing, listening to you squeal playfully. It felt good to be spending time with you in a way he never felt with anyone else and he tried not to overthink it. “Yeah, but in a few days we’ll be responsibility free.”

“True. I can’t wait. ‘M gonna shut my phone off and let everyone assume I’m dead,” you said as you picked up your phone to scroll through your Insta. Oikawa had posted a new photo just before he went to bed of him mid-set to one of his team members, his tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated. It was gorgeous, his skin much tanner than he had been while living in Japan and he was so pretty it almost hurt. You clicked the heart beneath it, one of the thousands already there.

Part of you expected to be introduced to a new girlfriend when you arrived, and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about that. Picturing an unknown woman hanging around made you grimace, and you were gonna murder him if he did that.

Iwaizumi laughed, patting your hand. “Let’s not do that or they might send someone after us, and I for one don’t feel like being chased through the streets of San Juan by Matsukawa and Hanamaki.”

“Yikes, you’re right,” you said, turning your attention from your phone to the TV, where a trio of people were currently navigating what appeared to be a bedroom. A comfortable silence fell, broken only by the sound of the TV and you passed the rest of the night that way.

⇥ masterlist

⍣ 365 days of sun series | next

#iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader x oikawa #.distance

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