#how is bathroom stall winning by such a small amount.
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A Hard Challenger to Beat
Wednesday night was men-only at the small country town bar. Living in a remote area could get awfully boring at times, but boy’s night was a highlight for most of the men’s weeks. There was truly nothing like blowing off some steam with your pals after a hard day’s work. No hassles, no consequences, just dudes having fun.
One of the main attractions on Wednesday nights was the Beat Billy pool challenge. The challenge was simple: play Billy in a game of pool, if you lose you have to give him ten dollars, and if you win then you get a special reward.
What was the special reward? If you saw Billy in action, it wouldn’t take long to find out. Every Wednesday night you could find Billy bent over the pool table lining up for a shot, with his big butt sticking out and his jeans, stuffed with ten dollar notes, looking like they’re about to split.
Yep, the special reward was an all-expense paid trip down to pound town (also known as the last stall in the men’s bathroom) with the one and only, Bubble Butt Billy. It was a shame that Billy was the best darn pool player in that town and the next town over.
It was a lucrative business for Billy, who never once had to surrender his pride to another man. However, it was speculated that the Beat Billy challenge was more profitable for the bar than it was for Billy himself. The challenge drew large crowds of pent-up men, some, who in their lustful delusions, thought themselves skilled or lucky enough to earn themselves some quality time with Billy’s behind, and others, who were more financially conscious, would instead egg on their pals to give the challenge a go just for the chance to see Billy bend over the pool table a couple more times.
Without a fault, each Wednesday night would bring to the bar a rowdy crowd, despite how predictable the events of the night were. Billy would pocket a nice amount spending money at the expense of his hopeful challengers, and the patrons would get their fair share of Bubble Butt Billy action. Billy barely had to try against his challengers and was eager to play a game of pool against an actually formidable opponent, and on one Wednesday night he got exactly that.
It was a Wednesday night that seemed to be going the same as every other Wednesday before it. Billy had just defeated yet another challenger and was counting ten dollar bills with his signature cocky smirk painted across his face. “Anyone else want to challenge me?” he said, teasing his audience by leaning his upper body ever so slightly over the pool table.
“I will.” An unfamiliar voice boomed from the back of the room. Billy turned around to size up the stranger. Billy, who was never short of words to belittle his upcoming challengers, was silent. It wasn’t the stranger’s face that left Billy at a loss for words; his eyes hadn’t even gotten up that far. Billy’s gaze was stuck on the bulging mass that was tenting the stranger’s tight jeans. For the first time in a long while Billy remembered the consequences of losing the challenge, his mind trapped in thoughts of how his virgin hole would fare if he lost this one time.
“My eyes are up here buddy,” the stranger said in a playful tone, strutting towards Billy with an irresistible swagger. “Just teasin’ ya. The name’s Rick,” he said warmly, reaching his hand out for a handshake. “I’d like to challenge you to a game of pool. I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem.”
Billy snapped out of his daze and shook Rick’s hand. “You’re new around here, so I’ll have to warn you not to get your hopes up,” Billy said, building up his confident facade again. “I haven’t even been trying tonight.”
“I expect nothing but your best.” Rick was unfazed. “I’ll let you break.”
Billy picked up his cue stick and the white ball as Rick set up the rest of the balls to break. As he had done a hundred times before, Billy got ready to begin play, lining his cue stick up to hit the white ball as his butt pointed out towards the leering spectators. Usually, Billy was so quick in his play that his opponent’s wouldn’t have time to register that the match had started. That night, Billy wasn’t so fast to start.
The cause of Billy’s delay was his opponent, who was standing on the opposite side of the table with his crotch directly in Billy’s line of sight. Rick’s hands were on his waist and he leaned just a little bit back to accentuate his large package.
“All bark and no bite,” Billy muttered under his breath. Billy struck the white ball, which jetted in the group of remaining balls causing them to scatter. Not a single ball had been potted into one of the holes, which was unusual for Billy.
It was Rick’s turn and he grabbed one of the cue sticks from the rack. He stroked the long wooden stick with his powerful hand lewdly under the guise of surveying its quality. “You know where I’m from, they call me Thick Stick Rick,” he said to Billy as he walked past him, meeting Billy’s gaze with a wink.
Rick quickly potted two balls in a row with ease, putting Billy on the back foot. Billy countered with his renowned precision. He potted three balls in quick succession and set himself up for an easy put away with a fourth.
The white ball had rolled to the centre of the large table meaning that Billy had to lean over extra far to reach it, causing his two large cheeks to stretch his jean fabric to its limit. Billy, who had been able to regain focus in the match, was about to sink his ball into one of the pockets when he felt something large and hard brush up against his crack. He turned around to see Rick towering over his lower half.
“Hey, you have to win first before you can have any of that,” Billy snapped, audibly annoyed.
“Apologies, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Rick said, feigning sincerity. “I just forget how big I am sometimes.”
Billy tried his best to brush off Rick’s comment and struck the white ball, but it clearly affected him as the ball he was aiming for, which was set up so well, bounced off the rim of the pocket and back towards the centre of the pool table. Billy swore under his breath; he never missed a shot like that.
“Don’t stress about it,” Rick said, placing his middle and index finger into one of the pockets. “These holes are so tight,” he wriggled his two fingers, “that these balls only just fit in.”
Rick’s innuendos had a marked effect on Billy, allowing Rick to even the scoreboard in spite of the vast difference in their skill levels. Each player now had one ball each to put away before they could go for the win by potting the eight ball. It was Billy’s turn and he was once again bent over the table, ass in the air, and lining up for a shot.
“Looking good Billy boy.” Rick chimed in as Billy was doing some practice shots in front of the white ball to check he had the right alignment.
“I don’t need you to help me with my alignment, I’m the expert… '' Billy trailed off as he realised Rick wasn’t commenting on his shot preparation. Instead, Rick’s eyes were glued to Billy’s famous butt.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just keeping my eyes on the prize,” Rick said, biting his bottom lip.
Billy tried to ignore Rick and went ahead with his shot. He managed to pot his final ball, but foolishly sunk the white ball as well. The crowd, who had fallen silent from the tension of the match, let out a gasp when Billy made this rare error.
Rick was able to sink his final ball as well, leaving the two in a race to pot the eight ball first for the win. Rick had no success on his first attempt as the eight ball was stuck in a tricky position. His comparative lack of experience showed as Rick was not careful enough to put the eight ball in a difficult position for his opponent to finish off.
All Billy needed to do was hit a straight shot from one end of the table to the other, which was easy for a player like himself. Rick, the schemer he was, was still not out of ideas. He moved himself behind the pocket Billy was planning to sink the eight ball into and started grinding his huge bulge against that corner pocket.
“How badly do you want to get into this hole, cause I want to get into this hole real bad,” Rick said with a slight grunt. Billy stayed silent. “It’s only a small hole Billy boy, it could be a real struggle to fit in.” Billy lined up his shot. “God Billy,” Rick’s voice turned low and rough as he took a step back from the table and squeezed his tightly wrapped manhood with his hand. “I’m a big boy, and I’m not even hard yet. You can’t even imagine the damage I could do to your bussy, or is that what you want? Have you been going easy on me on purpose Billy boy?”
Billy’s face was red from a mixture of anger and fear. He was sweating profusely and his hands were trembling. Billy drew his cue stick back then thrusted it forward with as much might as possible. The white ball rocketed into the eight ball which slammed into the pocket. In his desperation, Billy had struck the white ball far too hard and it followed the eight ball into the pocket.
Despair was the only thing that could describe Billy. Sinking the eight ball and fouling in the same shot was an automatic loss. The crowd knew this and roared with excitement. Thick Stick Rick was victorious.
Billy looked to the crowd, his eyes pleading for mercy. This was futile as the crowd, who had lost a lot of money over the years to Billy, were seeking retribution and Rick would deliver it.
“Rick! Rick! Thick Stick Rick!” the crowd chanted.
Rick approached the defeated Billy. “I ain’t gonna force you or nothin’ Billy boy, I ain’t like that,” Rick said, placing his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “But if you –”
“I’m a man of my word Rick. I couldn’t show my face in this town again if I didn’t go through with this.” Billy replied earnestly, not letting Rick finish.
“That’s the Bubble Butt Billy I’ve heard so much about. Now don’t you worry, Rick is gonna treat you real nice.” Rick gave Billy’s big butt a friendly smack.
The crowd’s chanting reached a climax as Billy and Rick walked into the men’s bathroom together. “Give ‘em hell Rick!” yelled a frenzied patron.
Soon, the bar fell into silence as the once raucous spectators listened suspensefully. At first there was no sound coming from the bathroom. After a little while a faint banging noise could be heard. It got louder and louder, until Billy’s moaning commenced. Billy reached a transcendent state, his shameless moans of pleasure filling up the bar and causing the pants of everyone in it to become a little more snug. Some opted to loosen their belts to relieve the pressure that was quickly building below.
“That son of a whore Billy is really enjoying this isn’t he?” commented one of the bargoers.
“Rick sure is a stallion!” remarked another.
“Billy won’t be able to walk properly for a week!”
“Don’t tell me Bubble Butt Billy lost on purpose!”
Rick and Billy’s erotic encounter culminated with a shared orgasmic roar that reverberated throughout the entire establishment. Rick, ever the gentlemen, offered to book a hotel room for the two of them for the night once he caught his breath back. All Billy could do was nod and collapse into Rick’s arms, his body completely exhausted.
“You’ve got a body that men like me dream about, Billy boy.” Rick kissed Billy on the forehand and proceeded to carry him out of the bar on his shoulders to a nearby hotel. There, Billy slept peacefully in Rick’s arms and Rick dozed off with his hands cupping Billy’s big cheeks.
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dirty little secret | (m)
pairings: jock!eren yeager x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, dub con, cheating, creampie, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, saliva, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, sneaky sex, explicit language
words: 3.2k+
summary: eren’s unsatisfied in his relationship with his girlfriend, so he looks to you for sexual gratification.
a/n: all the characters in this story are adults! it was originally meant to be a college au but the whole “fire drill” detail doesn’t really make sense in a college setting since fire drills are typically held in dorms, so as per usual 18+ minors dni.
Your legs moved quickly against the polished tile of the hallway while you sped up to meet with your class who had already been far ahead of you, disappearing into the throng of people filing outside at the blaring signal of the fire alarm.
You’d excused yourself during your lesson to use the bathroom, unaware that an unplanned drill had been scheduled for that day, so with haste you finished up and rushed to rendezvous with the rest of your classmates before you were left inside the building.
As you rounded the corner, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your forearm, forcibly pulling you behind the small door that stood at the end of the corridor.
Instinctively, your hands balled into fists, and you threw them blindly in the direction of your assailant. You hoped that you’d at least land one successful hit, and it would give you enough time to break out of their hold and flee.
“Y/N, relax! It’s just me!”
Your hysterical flailing ceased, and you opened your eyes hesitantly at the sound of your attacker’s familiar voice. “Eren?”
Frantic pupils fell upon a pair of mischievous jade eyes, and your terror-stricken expression contorted into an angry scowl as you drove the palms of your hands into his chest, sending him careening back into the metal shelf behind him. “You asshole! What is wrong with you?”
Eren’s quick reflexes allowed him to catch himself and the rack before both were sent tumbling to the floor. “Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing away the soreness spreading over the skin of his arm from your knuckles’ potent impact. “You’ve got a brutal left hook.”
“Yeah? You wanna see my right one?” Your right hand tightened as if you were projecting another throw, but Eren’s outstretched arm maintained a safe amount of space between you two. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
Eren’s tightly-wound eyebrows began to arch as his distressed face eased into a buoyant grin. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”
You blinked. “Were you the one that pulled the fire alarm?”
“No, I didn’t pull the fucking fire alarm,” he replied sourly, evidently offended that you’d suggest he’d do something so juvenile. “I just got lucky.”
Your curled lip relaxed, and your irritation waned into a resigned stare. You desperately wanted to trust Eren’s saccharine words, and it didn’t take much effort to believe him while you were faced with his stupidly winsome expression. His smile was warm, eyes glossing over with adoration like he was truly expressing what he felt, and it wasn’t just empty flattery, yet you’d been more perceptive than to just take his intentions for what they were. Rather, you’d been smart enough to learn from last time.
He’d said something along the same lines, after you two had hooked up in his car after his lacrosse game. He was feeling mirthful after winning and wanted to celebrate with you, but on the cusp of his orgasm, he’d let the “love” phrase slip, and when you’d asked him about it afterward, Eren mulled over it for a second before nodding, admitting that he had feelings for you.
His confession had been somewhat of a relief, and you’d expected him to end things with his girlfriend shortly after he’d realized what he really wanted, but the following day in the courtyard, you were stunned to see Eren sitting with her and the rest of his friends, showering her with kisses like nothing had taken place the night before.
You swore you’d learned your lesson.
“Are these new? Can I see them?” Eren’s fingers gently wrapped around the frame of your glasses, pulling them from your face, and he slid them onto his ears, adjusting their position on his nose. “How do I look?”
“I can’t see, Eren,” you answered simply.
Eren laughed bashfully. “Right, I think they look better on you instead.” He slid your glasses off and tucked them back behind your ears.
Your lenses restored your lucid vision, and now that you could properly see, you noticed the way Eren’s lips were parted, lids low and languid as his face lingered only inches from yours. He’d used your glasses as leverage to get closer to you, a crafty technique, and now that he was close enough, he could whisper.
“You know what else looks better on you?” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards into his cheek, and he closed the space between you two, fixing his lips onto yours while his thumb and index finger supported the curve of your chin. His kiss was slow, mouth undulating with the most tender of movements, and when he carefully slid his tongue between your teeth you could taste the vague chill of spearmint on his breath. He proceeded timidly, as though he was touching you for the first time, but that was the very detail of your couplings that always had you running back. He handled you like he cared.
The tip of Eren’s nose skimmed against yours, ever so slightly, while he continued prompting his tongue further into the depths of your mouth, eager to have you savor his desire.
Your body was traitorous and unmoving, allowing Eren to command you with his lips, and for a few blissful minutes, you forgot the two of you were crammed into the unyielding space of a storage room.
Eren withdrew from your mouth, and tilted his head to the side so he could occupy the empty curve of your neck, and once you felt him press mild kisses to the hollow of your throat, you freed a displeased sigh and sent him backwards with an assertive push.
“Seriously? In the supply closet?”
“We’ve got like fifteen minutes before everyone comes back.” He reassured you, shrugging dismissively before tipping his head in for another kiss.
You shifted backward, studying Eren as he continued to lean in until his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Wondering why he wasn’t receiving any contact, his eyes flitted open.
“You still haven’t broken up with her have you?” You pressed your lips into an unamused line.
Your question had Eren angling until he was standing upright, and then he rolled his head back and released a groan as though already tired from your question. “Y/N, come on. I don’t feel like having this conversation.”
“Have you?” you probed.
“No, I haven’t. It’s not that easy.”
“It really is.”
Eren drew his eyebrows up, now in regret. “We’ve been together since freshman year. Do you know how big of a douchebag it makes me look if I break up with her two months before graduation?”
You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Do you know how big of a douchebag you look fucking me behind her back?”
Eren’s eyes drifted to the side.
“Or are you just embarrassed to be seen with me?” you questioned, canting your body into his view.
“Okay, you sound ridiculous,” Eren laughed dryly.
“Because I’m not a cheerleader or an athlete, and I have about one other friend. You don’t want everyone to know you’re fucking the girl that spends lunch in the library.”
“What kind of cliche movie do you think we’re in right now?”
“It’s just something I’d expect from someone who peaked in high school.” Your words were sharp on the tip of your tongue, and you could tell by the way Eren recoiled that your statement managed to penetrate his seemingly careless guise.
“I’ll handle it okay?” Eren’s hand slid over the back of his neck, looking blameworthy of all the faults you’d accused him of. “But right now I really need help handling something else.”
Your eyes narrowed in his direction after realizing he’d managed to do it again, forcing you into forgiveness with his charming abashed impression. He’d taken advantage of how spineless you were when it came to matters concerning him.
“Please?” he urged.
It was his thick brown brows that were creased in the middle and opalescent green eyes that stared you down that made him look so sincere. He was easily one of the most spellbinding people you’d ever met, attractive and likable, he knew exactly what cards to play to get his way, and even though you were aware of it, you always found yourself wrapped around his finger. A pretty face and a sweet tongue was a recipe written up by the devil himself.
You lowered yourself onto your knees, leveled with Eren’s hands working swiftly against the buttons of his slacks. “I’m done doing this, Yeager,” you announced wryly.
“I know,” Eren said, as though guaranteeing you it would be the last time.
He pushed his pants down along with his briefs in one swift motion, freeing his cock from the tight cotton confines of his underwear. His length was already rigid, the sticky beads of precum leaking out of his swollen head the result of your stalling. He’d already provoked himself by thinking of all the ways he wanted to have you, you didn’t have to do anything more to get him hard.
A relieved exhale left Eren’s lips once he grabbed the base of his cock in the sweaty heat of his palm, tapping his wet tip against your bottom lip, then he pulled the hem of his shirt up slightly, allowing you enough clearance to take him into your mouth.
You wrapped a ginger hand around his length, feeling the way his warmth throbbed in your fingers, and you leaned in, using your tongue to lap along the rim of his cock.
“Fuck—” Eren’s voice was husky as it ripped through the depths of his throat. He watched you with heavy lids, observing the way your tongue’s tip danced around his swollen head, giving coy licks to his slit, and the way his cock twitched with need at the slightest provocation. “Jesus Christ—”
You gave him a few generous pumps before taking him whole, humming at the way his girth felt against the inside of your cheeks. The skin of his length ran like hot silk over your tongue as you fell into a natural rhythm, and your lips and hand rocked back and forth against him.
Eren’s face broke out into a dirty grin. “You’re such a little slut for my cock, aren’t you?”
You glared up at him over the edge of your glasses.
“Sorry,” he responded meekly, fingers brushing away the strands of hair that fell loosely against his forehead.
You continued working against him, excited by the honeyed melody of his moans every time your fingertips ran over the sensitive skin of his balls. Eren’s cock pulsated against the surface of your tongue with each small ministration, and you watched the muscles across his abdomen tense.
“I know you hate me,” he started. “But you have no idea how hot you look on your knees right now. Keep glaring at me like that, and I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”
The mention of Eren’s warning had a torrent of heat surging between your legs, and you fought off the urge to dip your fingers beneath your skirt and begin rubbing away your discomfort. You didn’t want him to know you were enjoying this almost as much as he was.
Your heavy yet stifled breathing caused your glasses to fog lightly, so you sat back on your knees, withdrawing your mouth from him briefly to catch your breath. You lifted a thumb to wipe away at the saliva that dribbled down your chin, but Eren’s fast fingers stopped you, holding your wrist away from your face.
“Don’t,” he breathed. “You look pretty like that.”
You ran the back of your hand across your cheeks, as though you were trying to rub off the furious heat that crept across your skin and over your nose. “Shut up.”
Eren only responded with an amused smile.
Then when you brought him back to your lips for the last time, his hands settled on the crown of your head, and he pushed his cock back in until his tip relentlessly prodded the back of your throat. Holding your head in place, he began jerking his hips, fucking your mouth at an agonizingly slow pace that had heavy tears cascading down your cheeks.
Every time his cock slowly and deliberately pressed against the back of your throat, you gagged involuntarily, fingertips digging into the side of his thighs.
“Feel how hard I am?” Eren asked. “You did that.” He rocked his pelvis forward again, muffling your whines.
“Yeah? You like it when I fuck your pretty little face, don’t you?” He thrusted himself between your jaws, throwing his head back and liberating a series of foul swears. “I really need to feel you.”
With the declaration of his wish, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, inhaling sharply at the obscene sight of his length coated and dripping with your spit.
After your dry heaving subsided, Eren helped you up with a gentle hand, running his palm between your shoulder blades to soothe your coughing. He made sure you were steady before cuing you to turn so that your back was facing him, then he watched as your shaky hands slid underneath your skirt and fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear.
“Pull out this time, Eren. I mean it,” you rasped, cautioning him ahead of time. You stepped out of your underwear and used the toe of your shoe to cast it aside.
Eren’s hands reached under your hem, large palms gliding over the curve of your ass. “The odds of you getting pregnant are like one in what?” He flipped up your skirt and continued teasing the skin of your backside. “Plus I always cover you for the pill, don’t I?”
“I don’t care, cum in me and you’re dead.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the metal shelf, and you slid your arm around Eren’s shoulder while he placed one hand on your waist for support and curved the other under your thigh. Then, he brought your knee up to his chest until all of your weight was allocated onto one leg.
Eren held his cock with his fingertips and slid himself between your folds from behind. You let out a soft, unanticipated whimper, but quickly brought your teeth down on the flesh of your tongue to smother any more sounds of pleasure. You didn’t even bother looking over your shoulder at Eren’s satisfied smirk, you could tell by the way his hand squeezed your thigh that he had noticed it.
Eren positioned himself at your entrance, skimming his wet tip over your hole before sliding himself inside you. His cock slipped in with ease, your saliva acting as a crude lubricant.
“Oh fuck—” His breath was hot over the span of your neck.
“Eren—” you sighed, forgetting all your pretenses. You closed your eyes, enjoying the way he stretched you out, and then he started moving causing a pattern of shallow cries and moans to fall from your lips.
“Fuck Y/N, you drive me fucking crazy,” Eren groaned, thrusting up into you, slowly and rhyhmically, steadily filling you to the hilt every time, while his hand traveled beneath your ribcage to cup your breast over the crisp fabric of your uniform. “She doesn’t take me as well as you do.”
You shook your head, making weak sounds of protest between delicate whines. “I don’t wanna hear that, Eren—”
“But it’s true.” Eren moved quickly between your legs, hissing every time your slick walls tightened around his aching cock. With each punctuated thrust, you continued to lose yourself, until your need unfurled and Eren had you under siege. His methodical pace sent you into a flurry of moans, and you cried his name over and over.
His even strokes began to stagger, and his breathing became rapid and shallow, chaotic pants of hot air rolling out over the span of your shoulder.
“I’m gonna cum—” He continued pounding into you, faster now, harder, keen on drawing out his orgasm, and then Eren gave one last thrust, so deep it had you shutting your eyes and pursing your lips to keep from screaming. Then he shuddered, his body convulsing with the bout of his orgasm, and you felt him release inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your pussy with every twitch of his cock.
“Y/N—” he moaned, resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder while he continued to jettison every drop of his release until he was sure he was empty.
Your hands tightened around his shoulder, as the ripple from Eren’s climax had your cunt tightening around his length, and ecstasy spread over the span of your pelvis and down your thighs. Once he grew limp, he slipped himself out of you, and you felt a slow stream of his cum run down the inside of your thigh.
“I said not to cum in me you fucking idiot.” Your legs were sweaty, making it easier for you to twist yourself out of Eren’s hold until you were now standing upright, both legs planted unsteadily on the ground.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Eren wrapped his arms around you apologetically, but you shrugged him off, using your elbow to drive him back.
Your eyes scanned the closet with haste, looking for tissue paper you could steal to clean up the mess between your thighs, and Eren must have sensed your aim because he made use of his height, seizing a large roll from the top shelf and unwrapping it before handing it to you.
You grabbed it out of his hands, waiving a statement of gratitude, and ripped away a few plies, crumpling them up into a generous wad. “You owe me eighty dollars.”
Eren’s eyebrows lifted and his face twisted into an incredulous expression while he stuffed himself back into his pants and buttoned them up. “Are you running a prostitution ring?”
“I’m serious. Fifty for the pill and thirty just for dealing with you.” You straightened out your uniform, and watched as Eren did the same, tugging on his collar to smooth out the creases.
“You’re a mean little bitch,” he jeered with a slight playful undertone, and then he looked off to the side in concentration. He turned around, pressing his ear to the door of the supply closet, and then he looked back at you. “I think they’re coming back.”
You hummed.
“I’ll walk out first.”
“Right,” you said unenthusiastically, recalling that no matter how many praises he lavished you with in private, in public you were still his dirty little secret. He vowed to you that he would end his current relationship because it was clear you were growing tired of being his toy, good enough for him to fuck but undeserving of anything else. And after all was said and done, when you two passed each other in the halls, he’d still glance at you with the cordiality of a stranger.
Eren had promised to handle it, yet it was obvious he had no intentions to, and you knew that while you watched him give you a fond smile before slipping out of the supply closet.
#eren smut#eren yeager smut#eren x reader#eren x reader smut#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager x reader smut#aot smut#aot x reader#aot x reader smut#attack on titan smut#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan x reader smut#aot au#eren au#attack on titan au
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could you do headcanons for Tetsuro Kuroo after you sent him a naughty picture ?? Kith kith
SMUT w. Kuroo
you naughty lil baby why did you send him this at practice? dude was on a heavy losing streak with kenma being sleep deprived and lev on the opposite side of the net when nekoma (university) called a break and this chemical genius just happens to be looking at his phone when your name pops up.
you sent him not one but two gorgeous flicks of your fine ass body in a pretty skimpy number and mans nearly screeches. kuroo has a thing for keeping his composure but he was sipping his water when he opens the snap casually. within seconds, yamamoto is covered in a mixture of water and kuroo’s spit. some got in his mouth so he’s running off to the bathroom to disinfect his precious tongue.
everyone turns their heads to question their captain who gawks at the phone, his thumb presses tightly to the screen to keep the image from disappearing. his obsidian eyes sparkle with lust as they trace your curves, how your bare skin looks tantalizing under some bright LED lights you’ve installed recently. he can tell you put some lotion on your legs by the shine that coats your limbs, and he’s certain he can smell it all the way from here
have you ever seen a dick get so hard so fast? kuroo doesn’t realize it but his pretty dick is nearly prying at the seams of his boxers to get to your confined figure. he coughs loudly as some of the water he was drinking goes down the wrong tube and lev, the helpful bonsai tree he is, wants to assist so he pats at kuroo’s back. this has an opposite side effect as kuroo is quick to kick lev away so dramatically kai suggests they should take him to the hospital, (he’s lying dead to the world on the ground. last time he ever tried to save kuroo’s life.)
kuroo has never actually asked or sent personal photos like this before so the fact you trust him this deeply to share yourself over the phone so openly makes his heart tug fondly at the thought of you having questioned if you should have done this in the first place. trust has been a key element to your relationship and the middle blocker is very conscious of this. he intends to love you so thoroughly that the last thing you ever question is yourself or him, though he knows uncertainties and insecurities still cross your mind.
this routine practice takes a detour as kuroo has escaped into a bathroom stall, stealing glances around before he opens your second snap. his eyes have ghosted over the screen for a mere three seconds before he’s stuffing his calloused hands into his ruby mesh shorts, digits brushing his erect dick.
“shit baby.” a familiar hiss leaves the captains moist lips as he’s admiring the angle of the photo; you’re bent over slightly just enough to tease his eyes with your ass faintly outlined by the glare of the led lights, your toned legs spread with the garment flushed tightly against your pretty cunt. you bought this outfit specially for him and wanted to debut it but remained uncertain if it would have a larger impact in person or digitally.
swiftly, kuroo has his camera pointed to his exposed member and he’s thumbing the little red recording button.
“fuck baby, fuck.” his fingers fasten around his cock. try as he might, tetsuro’s touch doesn’t reflect the same texture as your attentive tongue or energetic hands. he’s rushing, but absorbing every little detail of these delicious photos you’ve supplied with him. “love how sexy you look-fuck.” another hiss slices through his voice as he pumps his length, the tension building in his stomach. precum accumulates at the tip and he uses it to spread across the sensitive skin. “little vixen, look what you caused.”
as tetsuro labels you with various terms like kitten, sweetheart, love and baby, the middle blocker can only achieve so much by his own hands when he truly envisions you laid down under him, plowing you so deeply he paints your gaze with stars.
despite the distance between you two, kuroo demonstrates the power those pictures managed by the amount of silky white threads of cum painting across his thighs.
kuroo leaves the bathroom with more energy and motivation to win than before. he’s a complete menace. lev, yaku and kenma each are subject to his snappish notes and reminders, lev keeping a fair distance from his captain; there’s something dangerous lurking behind those onyx eyes.
as the ball sails through the air and meets kuroo’s hand, the thoughts of you burn in the back of his brain and he slams the mikasa sphere deep into the court, nailing it right out reach but still within bounds.
as the game comes to an end kuroo is barking and chasing his lower class men up and down the length of the gym, he has somewhere he needs to be and these fools are prohibiting him from soaking himself into your pretty folds.
by the time he arrives at your residence, you’ve locked the door and are busy in the bathroom. too impatient, kuroo climbs the fire escape and slips into the window, knocking his shin clean against the corner of your desk. his voice startles you and you race out, only to be met with your boyfriend stripping off his shirt. the look in his eyes burn deeply and for a brief second, you’re afraid of the expression.
“what was that?” he asks calmly, too calmly for someone who’s scrambled up three flights of stairs and into your room.
“what was what?” you ask lightly, emerging from the bathroom in one of kuroo’s large dress shirts, a few buttons done up. a small breeze slithers through the room, curling at the edge of the shirt. kuroo’s gaze narrows. you have the audacity to play coy. “kur-”
your voice is cut off roughly as he’s striding towards you, a hand fastening around your neck softly as he’s pinned you against the wall, one arm hoisted above your head. his white garment rides up, revealing the fabric around your hips.
“sending me pictures during practice?” impatience laces the captain’s darkened tone as he ducks his lips down low to the shell of your ear, his breathe hot and moist. you rub your thighs together lightly.
“just wanted to surprise you baby.”
kuroo bites at your jaw and growls, “gave me a hard one so bad i nearly cancelled practice to come here and fuck you senseless.” the heat of his words lick at the need pooling inside you.
you raise your gazes to his and find a fire blazing in his visionaries. he wants you and he will have you. “say it baby. i want to hear you.”
“i want you kuroo.” your eyes flutter shut as you rub yourself against his thigh, “i want you inside me.” his grip on your wrist slackens. “i couldn’t wait any longer, i’m sorry.”
who is kuroo to deprave you of his cock and your own release? the captain picks you up and deposits you on the bed, quickly tearing his shirt off your body. consumed by need, his lips are at your neck, licking, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. your mewls only spur him further as he drags his nails down your bare stomach, slipping your panties off your body. “fuck.” he hisses as he sees your exposed cunt, slick with your own wetness. his lips pepper kisses down your abdomen, “such a pretty pussy.” within seconds, kuroo’s buried his tongue in your moist folds. you buck against his mouth, withering and trembling as he laces his fingers against your own. as you cum on his tongue over and over, he’s working himself hard again.
“ready baby?” tetsuro inquires, aligning himself to your paradise. his obsidian eyes study you as you nod weakly, whining before he impales you in one fluid stroke. “fuck baby you feel amazing.”
you feel beyond amazing that night. kuroo has you screaming his name as you orgasm. his own tongue paints your name over your nipples and neck. it’s safe to assume the next time you feel like sending him a personal photo, he’d bury himself in you without question.
that night, you fall asleep in your boyfriend’s toned arms as he kisses your forehead and praises your body.
#kuroo x reader#hq kuroo#haikyu x reader#kuroo smut#haikyuu atsumu#haikyu headcanons#oikawa x y/n#haikyuu!!#atsumu x reader#osamu headcanons#haikyū!!#haikyu smut#osamu imagine#atsumu smut#oikawa smut#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo scenarios#kuroo headcanons#atsumu x female reader#atsumu headcanons#kuroo imagine#oikawa x reader#oikawa headcanons#haikyutiehoe#haikyuucafe
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Hi, can I request a Draco x reader in which they are best friends and reader is narcissistic, so when Draco starts to change in their sixth year, reader gets angry with him and ends their friendship until Draco tells her about his dark mark and reader realize how she is and try to improve. With a happy ending in which after winning the war both confess their feelings. im sorry if it's confusing
I can do better - d.m.
- word count: 2.2k
- warnings: mentions of scratching skin, please contact me if theres more !
- a/n- I’ve never really had an encounter with a narcissistic person and I don’t exactly know how to write them out so I did sort of switch that part up but everything else is the same <33
- masterlist | draco malfoy masterlist | gif creds | taglist form |
Countless years of friendship, down the drain all because he had been acting differently. Ever since your sixth year had started, Draco had been off. Quitting quidditch when he was so close to becoming captain— something that he had been determined to do ever since he made his way onto the team in your second year.
He’d rant on and on between lessons of how you should be honored to be talking to Slytherins future star player and quidditch captain.
There also weren’t any more occurrences where he’d stay up countless hours with you as you as you went on and on about the different aspects of astronomy— something that you had been overly interested in ever since you took the course as one of your electives in third year because you didn’t want to take ancient runes.
That was the same year you started to see him differently, maybe in a way that friends shouldn't have. And you played it off as something small, it’s not wrong to think your best friend looks good a few days out of the week, it’s just something friends do.
Well that was what you were telling yourself as you got used to finding even the smallest things he'd do cute. But it seemed that you weren't the only one having those feelings, that he had seemed just as interested as you were, so you grew comfortable with the situation and the attention.
The comfort of it all had grown even more when you were the first one he asked to accompany him to the yule ball without a second thought and you didn’t hesitate to say yes.
And even after everything that had happened last year with his father getting thrown into Azkaban, he hadn’t pushed you away but you were the first shoulder he came to cry on, and shamelessly at that. He wasn’t embarrassed in the least because he trusted you that much. Why wouldn't he?
It hurt that those were no longer the circumstances but that they were now almost the complete opposite. The shock of no longer having him and being his main source of attention scared you, it made you irrationally jealous at the thought of maybe he had moved on to someone else.
And while all of that was wrong, you couldn’t see it because your focus was on what you had lost and were no longer getting. So you were the person to end that friendship.
When you had told him that you no longer wanted anything to do with him, he seemed like he didn't care, almost like he wanted you to let him go and it made a deep pit form in your stomach.
It had only grown as you’d watch him from across the dinner table, bags prominent under his eyes and as days passed, he started to look more and more sickly.
To say the least, you had been riddled with guilt and thoughts of if you even should be— if you thought about it, you only hurt him before he could hurt you. But for some reason, it feel that way.
You decided to talk to him again, not as an apology but more of a deal that you could just move on and not think about because. It’s like when your parents call you to dinner instead of saying sorry for yelling at you, thinking that food was a piece offering.
So now you were roaming the halls in nothing but your pajamas and school robes remembering the times where Draco would be here on your side.
It was almost a daily thing for you both. You’d get tired of all of the homework that was required by the professors so you’d go and run around to try and get your ‘creative juices’ to come back. And while all of that did pain you, you were almost certain. That everything would go back to normal and things would be fine.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a cry sounding through the wide halls and you quickly realized it was a very familiar cry. And instead of just ignoring it, curiously took over, persuading you to follow to the source of their sounds. Moaning myrtle's bathroom.
You hadn’t a chance to ask what was or had happened before the ghost gave you a look of deep sympathy and floated into one of the nearby stalls. A splash followed, alerting you that she had gone down the toilet leaving you time to carefully step through the open space.
You tried your best to approach the person without disturbing them completely, but when you identified them, it was much harder.
“Draco is- is that you crying?” You asked, catching sight of the boy on the ground, left arm clutched to his body as if he had just burned himself.
“It’s not like you would care l/n,” he scoffed, trying to wipe his face and pull down his sleeve before you could get completely in front of him.
The last time you checked the clock, it was three in the morning and for some reason he still had his uniform on. The only sign of comfort was that his tie was a little loosened— had he not gone to sleep at all?
“Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong,” you huffed, once again getting irritated that he wouldn’t tell you anything going on. The thought not coming up into your head that maybe if he didn’t want to be so open about this topic, maybe it was for good reason.
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want anything to do with me so, I’m good thanks.” He wasn't anywhere as upset as you were, more hurt if you will.
“You didn’t seem to care much when I did tell you,” you countered, making him exhale deeply and run hands through his hair.
“It was for your safety. Don’t you understand that?” Your face scrunched in confusion of what was so top secret that he couldn’t even tell you to ‘keep you safe.’ He was already tired of the argument and decided to not answer you, in words at least.
His hand swiftly went down to the end of his sleeve to reveal to you his, what should have been bare arm, but there was a mark, a dark mark. Your eyes stayed on his arm for seconds you didn't take the time to count.
Not only was the mark of the dark lord staring at you but so was the amount of irritated skin around it. There were scratches, old and new, liked he thought the actions would erase the marking.
Your eyes slowly shifted to look into his glossed over ones, staring down at the spot that you previously were, But instead of the stare being out of shock, it was a mixture of shame and disgust. “I am sorry Draco. I didn’t even think that you would—”
“I didn’t have much of a choice, it was either this or my family gets killed,” he revealed, disgust lacing his voice.
Had you been that blind? Now that you're thinking of it, you hadn’t even asked him once if he was okay but complained about him never having time for you now.
And it was pretty obvious that a sixteen year old death eater being in Hogwarts couldn't mean anything good. He was probably under so much stress and you, someone who was supposed to be there for him wasn’t.
“Draco I—”
“I don’t need your poor try at an apology,” he said harshly, moving his arm out of your hold.
“No, really I—,” you choked on your words as if you didn’t have the ability to mutter a simple apology. Wait, had you always been that way?
“I am so sorry for everything and I know that I should've been so hard on you. I can’t imagine how horrible this year has been for you. I don’t even know how I completely overlooked you.”
You hated the way you made him feel, you hadn’t even thought your actions were that harmful seeing as you had always been that way. And that's when the realization hit, you had always been that way.
There were probably so many other occasions where you put yourself over others without a second thought and all the friends that you had, that had distanced themselves from you weren’t for no reason, but it was for that one.
You were suddenly pulled into his body, strong arms finding their way around you. The embrace wasn’t desperate, no, it was more of a silent plea that you’d stay and at least try to change your ways.
And you were going to do so much better than that. Your arms moved to hug him back, a sense of security coming over you both, enough so for him to let go and crumble into your arms once again and simply, cry.
After that night, your relationship slowly rebuilt itself, even though the first few days had been awkward seeing as he hadn’t truly accepted your apology, and understandably. But that only made you so much more determined to change, to improve not for only yourself but for the people around you.
And that’s just what you did, re-become the shoulder that was always available to cry on and the ears that were always open to listen when he needed to vent about not being able to fix the cabinet and how stressful it was.
Not to mention when he was done with it, he didn’t know how he wouldn’t mess up on the task of killing the headmaster.
But that also led to you trying your best to make him laugh again, and even though it wasn’t about seeing a boyish smirk come over his face as he jinxed unsuspecting students it was still something.
It was enough for you to see a sliver of a smile come over his even if it was from you tripping over the things in his room.
And when you finally did successfully make him let out a genuine laugh you were over the moon, you didn’t remember what it was he laughed at because immediately after you started cheering, that mission make Malfoy smile again had been completed.
That was probably the day that you realized that those feelings of more than platonic friendship were coming back.
That didn’t stop the crying you both did the night before he had to leave Hogwarts because while it does sound selfish, you wish he could've stayed that he didn't have to leave because you were going to miss him.
You even went to the extent of trying to convince him to let you join him but he immediately shut you down, not even entertaining the idea.
The manor wasn’t anything like it had been through your childhoods, but now it was stuffy and riddled with death eaters at every door. And there was no way he was going to willingly put you in that situation so you stayed at the castle.
Months later he was back at the school and of course, desperate to see you again. The last year had been hard for everyone and it was probably one of the worst for Draco. Not only did he figure out that his third year crush on you wasn’t so simple anymore but he had also realized it was so much more than that.
Standing by your side, on the side of Hogwarts only reinforced that idea. And as his parents beckoned for him to join them, he didn’t want to.
He wanted to choose the side that had been screaming out to him ever since he had become a death eater. And you were the one to not push him to stay or leave. But the slight squeeze to his hand was letting him know that whoever he did choose, you would be there right by his side.
And now as he watched Voldemort's body deteriorate, chipping and floating away like a piece of paper, a feeling of relief came over him, it was all over.
But that wasn't the only feeling that came over him because now he was determined, determined to tell you just how he felt and that’s what he did, hands still tightly weaved together as he pulled through the ruble.
You beat him to it though, confessing how much you loved him. And how throughout your years of Hogwarts he had always been such a great friend to you and how much you adored him even when he had his flaws. How you appreciated how he gave you a second chance, one to grow and one to improve on yourself.
And soon after that, he realized that you were in the same condition that he was and it wasn’t sickness but love; giving his own sappy take on confessing his feelings, you hadn’t only felt love Darco and he hadn’t only felt love for you but it was the feeling of being in love.
Draco Malfoy was completely and utterly in love with the girls standing in front of him at this moment and you felt the same for that boy standing in front of you.
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#draco angst#draco malfoy x reader#draco x yn#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy#draco#malfoy#draco x slytherin!reader#draco x ravenclaw!reader#draco x hufflepuff!reader#draco x gryffindor!reader#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco blurb
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Day 15: Glory Hole
Basically the bakugo squad minus Sero cause i forgot plus Shinso and Deku
You stare uneasily at the down ridden bathroom that you were expected to go into. Mina had recommended you to try a glory hole in order to spice up your boring life, her words not yours, but this was completely out of your comfort zone. Although you objected, giving many valid reasons as to why you couldn't do such a thing such as a disease, Mina shrugged it off by saying, "Don't worry babe, I have a plan, I would never let my girl get the icky sticky's."
When you arrived at the club, Mina made a beeline towards the bar leaving you standing against the club wall, awkwardly. For some reason, she had handed you a sticky note during the car ride there. Looking down at it you stared uneasily as you looked at the time, 10:34. You wearily glanced at Mina who was at the bar having a drink off with an ogre of a man. Due to personal experience, you knew she would win.
When 10:30 hit, you walked over to the bathroom, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw a few U.A students walk in. First was Denki, then Kirishima, surprisingly Shinso, and of course an angry Bakugo. More of them came in but you hurried and sprinted to the bathroom not wanting to get caught in such a place. The whole journey, you couldn't help but feel as though many pairs of eyes were on you.
You walk into the third stall and outwardly whistled at how clean it was compared to the other ones. The walls were almost white which was a huge contrast to the sickly green the rest of the bathroom emitted. There was even a little pillow on the floor for you to sit on. To your absolute horror, there were two holes on opposite ends. One small one to the right, most likely for blowjobs, and the other one was larger...for obvious reasons.
Even though you were down to try this, you were only planning to go so far. "Mama done raised a tramp." you said bitterly as you shrugged your jacket off and gingerly hung on the hook in the stall. For a while, you sat there and waited twiddling your thumbs as your watch ticked down closer to 10:34. This was excellent for you because the longer you sat there, the more you began losing the nerve to actually do it. Sighing you finally stood up and decided that maybe this wasn't the way you wanted to spice up your life.
You put a hand on the door latch to leave but before you could, to your right, the tip of a cock pokes its way through the hole.
There is silence as you gaze at it surprised that someone actually came to do such a thing. For some reason unbeknownst to you, it felt like there was an unseen force pulling you to sit on the little pillow and gingerly take hold of the member that. Through the wall, you heard a static-filled voice kinda similar to what Shinso's mask sounded like when mimicking. "You must be new to this huh? Don't worry you can always opt-out, I don't mind."
You held your breath, not quite sure what the glory hole protocol was. "N-No it's fine, I totally got this." Receiving the go-ahead, the person pushes their member all the way through. It was tan in color and the head was a pretty pink as it hung slightly beginning to deflate, which was unsurprising seeing how long it took you to get over the surprise.
You take hold of it and softly stroked, trying to get it back to peak hardness. All the times you've ever had sex the person, if they were male, was already erect. So it was very strange to watch the process. More of the hardening member was pushed through the wall signaling that the persona had relaxed against the wall separating the two of you.
Once you got it at its peak, you gingerly mouthed at the sides, sliding your lips down the shaft. "Shit." you smirk at that confirmation that the person liked what was being done. You lap lazily at the slit and giggle as you feel it twitch under your tongue.
Before you could take it into your mouth, you receive a large amount of cum spewed onto your face and lips. "I'll take that as a compliment," you reply using a tissue to wipe off cum. "Sorry." the person mumbles and you would have sworn, you heard giggling through the stall.
You don't have to wait long for the next customer, but this time it is two. There is now a penis on both sides of you at full attention. You use both hands to stroke absentmindedly before coming to the decision of using all that you had.
Sliding your panties to the side you brace your legs wide as you scoot back to one side of the wall. You feel fingers wiggle their way past the hole, guiding you to find them. You shiver as the rough hand its way to hold your back steady as they gently finger you open. "Is this proper Gloryhole protocol?" you taunt and for a moment you hear scuffling and a muffled growl.
You quirked your eyebrow at the low hushes and whispers but shrugged as the fingers resume their efforts. Focusing on the penis in front of you, you suck gently on the tip before sliding down halfway. You have not seen many in person, but this was indeed a pretty cock. It was long with a good amount of girth and you could faintly see green pubic hair trimmed conservatively at the base.
You jump as you feel the tip of the other cock push slightly into you, testing the waters. Already feeling horny from the adrenaline you scoot back more encouraging the person to go ahead.
You grit your teeth as they push in all the way, wasting no time to start thrusting forward, forcing you to take the other cock deeper in your mouth making you gag slightly. Each thrust sends you reeling as you feel veins graze against your walls rubbing you in all the right places.
If you were to compare the two, the cock in your mouth is a decent 5 inches and all-around great. But the one thrusting deeply into you was a monster in girth leaving no room in your pussy as the head taps against your cervix. Your eyes roll back as the thrusts speed up and you became light-headed at the lack of oxygen.
All in the bathroom, the only thing that could be heard was heavy grunts and the slight gurgle of your throat each time the dick went further into your mouth. You're forced to pull away as you feel warm, sticky, liquid gush into your mouth sliding slowly down your throat. You hiccup as your pussy grips it's intruder as they slip out with a pop.
You moan unhappy that you didn't get to come, but that was soon rectified by another cock forcing its way inside. You scream as it pounds inside of you with no mercy and you could have sworn you could feel ridges scraping against your walls. This was no normal cock, hell, this cock didn't even feel human from how hard it was.
"Please make me cum!" you moaned. Holding onto the walls was the only thing keeping you standing even though that was barely working as you felt the whole stall shake from the sheer force of the thrusts. You could feel your walls pulsate and hear your own heartbeat as you came hard around the cock.
You allow your legs to relax as you begin to slide down as the person pulls out. Your ears tune in to the conversation and you swear you hear someone whose voice sounds similar to Kirishima chime in, "Your turn."
You feel strong hands find their way around your waist as a new cock pushes its way in. This one was impossibly long and was daring to push into your cervix entirely. You had no strength to hold back your overstimulated moans as you feel your entire world spark to white. Trailing your hands down you feel your stomach bulge ever so slightly as the cock destroys your insides.
You couldn't physically come anymore but the grip around your waist wasn't letting up so all you could do was whimper and take it. "Shit!" your tongue flaps out of your mouth in a disgusting ahegayo face as you are rushed into an orgasm by an electrical current running through you as the person, unfortunately, cums inside.
"Dude you fucking creampied her!" *smack* "Ow." You were too busy trying to see correctly to identify the voices. You lift your face up and shake your curls from your face and for a brief moment, you see a plethora of eyes peeking in at you as you slouched against the wall. Before they disappeared, you could make out a few of the iris colors, Two red eyes, green, purple, and yellow.
After getting your bearings, you exit the stall and jump as you catch your face in the mirror. You had black streaks of eyeliner trailing down your face and drool coming out your mouth. Sweat was sticking profusely to your forehead and your hair had frizzed out of its flattened state. You do your best to clean yourself up and hobble out of the bathroom.
You find Mina sitting at a table with Bakugo, Kirishima, Kaminari, Shinso, and Deku. Mina was smiling as she waved you over but the boys had a faraway look as they took in your disheveled state. "Damn they did a number on you." You scratched your head, "Who? Did you see them?" Mina's eyes widened, "N-Nah, it's just obvious that one person couldn't have done all this to you." Bakugo grumbled something haughtily receiving a kick from Mina under the table.
You're handed a cup of water to soothe your throat and you watched as the rest of the game party on. No one questioned why you looked so ragged coming out of a club bathroom which you didn't know to be worried about. If it weren't for the led lights blazing, you would have noticed the suspicious dampness of each of the boy's pants that they poorly attempted to hide throughout the night.
#black y/n#blackreader#kinktober#bnha headcanons#mha#bakugou x reader#kirishima x you#kaminari x reader#midoriya x y/n#hitoshi shinso x reader#mina ashido#smut#mha smut
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Pluviophile - Karl Jacobs
Trigger warnings: none
Fluff
Summary: Rain + Karl :)
***
The rain hitting the windows served as great background noise for y/n's late night study session, the steady pitter patter calm and relaxing compared to the stressed beating of their heart.
Blah blah blah, mitosis my arse- when would this be useful?
yes this is based on my irl annoyance at the school system😐
Placing their pen down they massaged their aching head, they had been working for- almost 4 hours now without break. They were bored and hungry. Like really hungry.
They collected their notes and placed their copious amount of highlighters back in their home - the highlighters were so they could seem like they had their shit together and so that it distracted people from their chicken scratch writing, but nobody needed to know that now did they. 👀
They slid off their chair and walked into the kitchen to find something to eat. Really craving some pasta or carbs they opened the cupboard doors to be greeted with absolutely nothing. Just their luck😔✋
And even worse was the fact that it was too late for delivery so they would have to starve for now. Y/n took a seat and placed their head on the wooden surface, why must life forsake them like this? 🥲
They glanced out the window- the rain looked so nice and cold forming small puddles on the grass. Eventually the temptation became too much and they excitedly jumped up from their chair and ran out the door.
They instantly relaxed, the feeling of the water running down their skin was a blissful contrast to the sweat from being in a warm room and wrapped in numerous blankets for hours on end. The rain had always been a source of comfort to them, the steady sound of water droplets was constant, reliable even.
Slowly they gazed up at the sky, bathing in the gorgeous silvery light from the moon. It really was beautiful - they had often admired it from their bedroom window as a child, wondering whether there really was a little man up there.
They closed their eyes and just breathed out, feeling the tension slowly leaving their body. Everybody always forgets to just take a proper break, a moment to themselves - no technology, just a moment to recollect their scattered thoughts.
Feeling a smile start to form on their face, they opened up their eyes to properly appreciate the rain running down their face.
There was a puddle on the ground, ignoring the rational part in their brain they followed their childish urge and jumped into it - the cold water soaking their jeans shocking them slightly. They let out a small laugh, all sounds completely blocked out from their mind, purely focused on the outdoors.
That was until they heard a car engine stall behind them. Y/n's head whipped around instantly, their wet hair whipping their face.
“What are you doing?” Karl said with a chuckle.
They were grateful that their cheeks were already pink from the cold, so that their embarrassment wouldn't be noticeable.
“Uhh, I'm- gardening-,” 😌
“Oh yeah? Where’s your garden?”
😑
bitch-
He took his keys out of the ignition and clambered out of his car, he pulled his spare coat out of the boot/trunk (idk) and rushed over to them. They put the warm coat on, on top of their soaking clothes.
“Why don’t we get you inside? You must be freezing.”
He grabbed their hand and shepherded them back into the slightly less cold house.
“It’s so cold! Who are you, Jack Frost?”
“Ye-,” he cut them off by turning the heater on and dragging them to the bathroom for a towel. As soon as he found one he dried their hair like a fucking dog.
They muttered their thanks when their head finally stopped spinning from all the shaking.
“Seriously though, what were you doing outside? It’s the middle of the night!” he uttered, voice laced with concern.
“I was bored of studying and the rain looked so nice and cold”
:) - (their face)
>:( - (Karl’s face)
“Why not just take a cold shower?”
“Bro rain hits different- let me have my cottagecore nature moment.”
Valid.
“Let’s go make you some food.” He sighed, realising that he would not win this conversation.
He walked over to the cabinets and unfortunately no food had magically appeared in their cupboards 😔💔🥀
Time to toaster bath 🏃♂️💨
Jk jk 👀
“When did you last go shopping?”
Unfortunately they had been more concerned with studying than remembering the last time they went and bought breadsticks.
Breadsticks fo life ❤️😌
He rolled his eyes, how were they still alive?
“Well lucky for you, I thought something like this would happen and I boughtt,” he pulled a bag/box out of his coat, “(pick a food)!”
Bruh, why not just get married right now. ???
“Your a life saver :)”
“I know.”
***
Please- this man has my heart 👀
Kinda a shit ending but I wanted to post something and I couldn’t think of what else to write :/
#karl jacobs x reader#karl jacobs#mcyt x reader#mcyt requests#mcyt fic#mcyt blog#mcyt fandom#mcytumblr#mcyt au
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Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You
Summary: Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that's ever happened to Spencer.
Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, making up, bullying, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together
Pairing: Morgan x Reid
Word Count: 3.2k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
Spencer is having one hell of a morning. He’d slept late, a significantly rare occurrence for him, and the metro had been delayed and diverted, leaving him to walk a decent chunk of his journey into work. To top it all off, he’d left his pencil case at home, leaving him stuck with cheap office supplies on a paperwork day.
He hates days like these, when his mood is so seriously affected by events beyond his control, and he knows he’s just going to continue to fester in his own self-prescribed misery if he doesn’t take some drastic steps to change the way he’s feeling.
After a moment of staring into space as he considers his options, he decides on a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. Surveying the mess on his desk after opening his eyes, he tackles that next, sorting through case files that can be filed away and organising the notes he’s currently working on as well as rearranging his personal items to stop them taking up so much room. Already feeling better, he takes a few sips of water and some painkillers for the headache he can feel coming on, and locks eyes on the break room. His mid-morning coffee is due.
Elle and Derek are chatting at the counter when he pushes the door open, and he smiles at both of them. He’s still getting used to being around Elle. She’s so confident and intimidating that he’s not really sure if she likes him that much, and it definitely doesn’t help that she reminds him of the girls he used to go to school with, the ones who found it amusing to laugh at the much younger autistic boy, hiding his stuff and calling him names, standing by and laughing when the older boys would beat him up.
He tries very hard with her, though. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to build more rapport, he thinks, so he listens in while he refills the coffee machine’s water. It’s definitely got nothing to do with how much he wants to climb Derek Morgan like a tree.
Derek looks over and catches him up in that thoughtful sort of way that always gets Spencer’s stomach fluttering. “Elle’s just telling me about the hot date she had on Saturday,” he winks, nudging her in the side. “He seems like a catch.” He sips innocently at his coffee and Spencer realises belatedly that he’s being sarcastic and watches for Elle’s response. God, he wishes conversations weren’t so damn convoluted.
“Oh, fuck off, Morgan,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re just jealous because I got laid and how long’s it been for you? Months?”
It’s Derek’s turn to roll his eyes, looking over at Spencer in a way that has him flushing pink. “Come on, Greenaway,” he laughs, “you know full well I’m not exactly lacking in that department.”
Elle gives him a dubious look, before raising her eyebrows and sipping her coffee. “Whatever you say,” she says in a patronising tone - the kind that reminds Spencer of an adult indulging a fantastical child. Derek laughs again, tapping lightly on the underside of her mug and causing it to spill over her hand a little. Spencer envies how easy it is for other people to elicit such a beautiful sound from Derek’s mouth; the few times he’s intentionally made Derek laugh he’d felt like he won a trophy, the sort he’d frame in a cabinet and show off to visitors, giving them a tour of the limited map of Spencer’s victories with a proud smile on his face.
He watches the exchange a little awkwardly, not knowing how to respond to these two very dominant personalities discussing an area he’s not overly familiar with. Unfortunately, they don’t ignore him forever and Elle looks over at him, her intense, fiery gaze already stirring up nerves in his stomach. “Anyway, what about you, Reid, when was your last hot date?” she teases, and he cannot for the life of him figure out if it’s friendly or malicious.
He flounders for only a second, cheeks heating up steadily, before Derek interjects. “Oh come on, Elle,” Derek scoffs. “Not sure Reid’s whole ‘twink aesthetic’ thing is quite what women are after, is it, pretty boy?”
Instantly, humiliation bleeds into his veins. His stomach swirls and he feels dizzy, completely out of his depth as his face reddens even further and he starts to sweat. The playful nudge that digs into his side doesn’t do anything to bring him out of the protective trance his mind’s gone into. “I--” he tries, but he’s cut off by Elle clearly growing bored of the conversation and pushing off the counter-top to leave.
She turns around for a moment as she heads towards the door, walks backwards a few steps as she delivers the final, devastating blow. “Hey, you never know, Reid,” she grins, “maybe the whole virgin genius thing will win them over instead.” She chuckles to herself as she leaves the room, door swinging closed behind her softly, leaving Derek and himself standing there in a vacuum.
Today of all days. It’s been a long time since the last time such a crushing level of humiliation was burning inside him, but he remembers the emotion like muscle memory. His body knows exactly what to do as his gut swirls and his head spins, sweat beading on his skin as though the very little self-esteem he had left is leaking steadily: the stopper that had been keeping the small amounts of confidence he had inside him degraded and dissolved by his coworker’s careless words, nothing there anymore to stop it leaking out of him.
It’s not new. But the sting is so much more visceral when it’s shocked into him by two people he considered friends and one person he was hopelessly, desperately in love with. It feels exactly like high school and university did: the toleration of his presence for intellectual reasons, for everything Spencer had to offer, but ultimately the social rejection of him as a human being when it actually came down to it. He was useful to the team for as much as he could give them. And that was it.
Derek takes a sip from his mug as Elle leaves, but he doesn’t notice Spencer’s completely frozen state until he tries to move on to another topic. “Spencer?” he asks, obviously concerned at his non-response and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. “What’s wrong?”
He can’t find the words to respond, but he does manage to meet Derek’s eyes and he just stares at him for a few seconds before he shakes his head and looks away again. Derek’s clearly confused, but that only makes it worse. Is he overreacting? Or is Derek just truly that oblivious to the cruelty in his words, to his feelings?
Feeling the tears burning in his eyes and adamantly refusing to cry in the middle of the breakroom, he turns around and hurries to the bathroom without saying a word.
⭐️
He barricades himself into a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat as tears steadily spill down his cheeks. This is exactly the reason he hasn’t told a soul at the FBI -- how would a group of alpha personalities who were likely the most popular kids in high school, likely would have bullied him if they’d attended the same school, that he was gay?
The humiliation stings more coming from Derek. Such negative association with his sexuality had proved himself right: this was a secret he needed to keep quiet. It just hurt so badly that the man he loved seemed so dismissive, so rude about something so integral to his being, and the allusions the entire exchange had to previous traumas had him struggling for breath through the steady stream of tears.
It takes him a few minutes but he eventually manages to calm himself down. He splashes some cool water onto his heated skin and tries his hardest to breathe deeply, even though it feels almost impossible at first. Usually when he gets worked up and has a meltdown or a panic attack he’s able to talk himself out of it after he’s calmed down a little; able to rationalise and apply logic to the situation, which tends to illuminate either an overreaction or a clear path through the problem.
That coping mechanism is not applicable, though - Derek and Elle truly hurt his feelings and there’s no way around that. Instead, he just tries to push it to the edge of his mind. He thinks through the quantum physics problem he’d started at breakfast, and the logical progression through the formulas and rational reasoning he has to use brings his heart rate down and he feels at least a little calmer, even if the twisted knot of dread and grief and pain still sits heavy in his stomach.
He’s just solved the physics problem in his head when the door swings open and he can hear Derek’s signature tread on the bathroom floor. “Spencer?” he calls quietly, pausing as the door closes behind him for just a second before making his way to the end stall. “I know you’re in there.”
“I am in here,” Spencer confirms, resenting how weak and watery his voice sounds.
Derek sighs heavily. “I didn’t get it until I talked to JJ,” he admits, speaking through the door. “I was confused why you suddenly acted so strange so I asked her what she thought was up. I thought it was all friendly banter. To be honest, I didn’t even realise what I’d said until I was explaining it to her. But you gotta understand, pretty boy, I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”
Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears still escape anyway, spilling down his tears in an expression of silent grief as he listens to Derek. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and swipes the tears away from his cheek with his fingertips before unlocking the door, revealing the most apologetic expression he’s ever seen. It doesn’t make him feel much better. He still meant what he said.
He smiles weakly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, and his voice sounds so vulnerable, it’s giving him away.
Derek’s expression doesn’t ease at Spencer’s forgiveness, he doesn’t smile and consider the issue done and dusted, he frowns harder, eyes desperate. “No, don’t dismiss it,” he says. “I hurt you, and that was wrong. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and Elle shouldn’t have either, okay, kid? I’m really sorry.”
“I know, but I’m used to it,” Spencer says, trying for a light tone and missing the mark by an embarrassing amount.
“Well you shouldn’t be,” Derek frowns. “If you’re so used to it, though, then why did this affect you so much? I’ve never seen you lose your cool like that.” He looks genuinely confused, and combined with the sorrow smothered across his features, it’s a pitiful sight.
“Don’t push, Morgan,” he warns, looking back down at his hands. His back hurts from his awkward, hunched position on the cold porcelain of the toilet.
“Seriously, Spencer, I--” Derek looks completely bewildered, caught off guard by the way he clearly expected this conversation going and the road it’s actually taken.
“I’m gay, alright?” Spencer interjects, loudly. He looks up fiercely into Derek’s eyes as he says it, but the fight quickly drains out of him and he looks down at his hands again, tensing automatically in fear of his reaction.
Derek doesn’t say anything though, so when Spencer eventually looks up again, he finds a strange expression on his face. Not mild disgust or confusion or awkwardness, but relief and fear and frustration.
“Spencer, I--” He cuts himself off as he shuffles his feet and looks away, but Spencer doesn’t miss the mournful tone as he realises the true impact of his words, how they must have hurt him. “You’re gay? That’s… why my comment was so hurtful, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to imply any kind of homophobia, I mean… I’m bisexual,” he admits, the same fear Spencer had felt swirling in his stomach written on Derek’s features.
“You are?” Spencer replies, surprise colouring his tone. He feels a surge of hope rise in his chest and he forces himself to tamper it. Just because Derek likes men absolutely does not mean he likes men like Spencer. In his experience those kinds of people tend to be fairly rare. He stands up from his uncomfortable seat, meeting Derek’s eyes properly for the first time since he entered the toilets.
What he means to do is give him a hug, or maybe have some sort of conversation on a more equal playing field. He does not mean to kiss him.
But when all of a sudden Derek’s lips are on his and Derek’s hands are cradling his cheek and waist so gently, surely it would be rude not to kiss him back. So he does. Far too passionately for a public bathroom in an FBI building, by all accounts.
They break away eventually, and Derek immediately panics. Spencer can see it rise in his eyes and body language, so before he can say anything he pulls him into the stall properly, shutting the door behind them and kisses him again, more gently this time. It’s the most confident thing he thinks he’s ever done, and he’s damn proud of himself because he does not want to go another day without Derek kissing him as tenderly as he is right now, without his hands roaming up and down his sides, without the careful brush of his fingers against the side of his head as he pushes a strand of hair back behind his ear as they pull away again.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, pretty boy,” Derek whispers, and Spencer can feel the gentle brush of his breath against his lips.
He’s lost for words again, but in a completely different way from just minutes before, and he absolutely cannot believe this is happening. Today of all days.
“Me too,” Spencer confesses, smiling slightly as he allows himself to convey the vulnerability he’s feeling on his face instead of building up a wall in front of it as he usually would. It doesn’t take long for reality to set in though. “But we are in an FBI building and we could definitely lose our jobs for this.”
“Right,” Derek acknowledges, looking up as he puts a bit more space between them, as much as the tiny stall allows. “Later, though, we could maybe do this… not in a government building?”
Spencer’s always wondered how it feels to be on the receiving end of Derek’s romantic charm and charisma, and it’s rather overwhelming. Derek’s smiling cheekily as he interlocks their hands and waits for an answer and Spencer’s finding it a little hard to breathe again.
“Like… a date?” Spencer squeaks, face flushing again -- though admittedly in a much more pleasant manner -- as he prays he hasn’t got the wrong idea.
“Yes,” Derek smiles, “like a date.” He pauses and takes a breath, grinning wider for just a second before he suppresses it slightly and looks back at Spencer. “How about… I swing by your place at 7 and we head to that new Italian place you’ve been talking about?”
“Really?” Spencer asks, face open and vulnerable and honest. He hopes to God that he’s not being mocked right now. It’s happened before. He’s not sure Derek really understands the amount of trust he’s placing in him, the burden that might bring.
“Yes, really,” Derek chuckles, bringing a hand up to rest at the side of his face again as he thumbs gently over his cheekbone. “I’m gonna wine you and dine you, baby, just you wait and see.”
Spencer knows he won’t be able to speak without squeaking embarrassingly again, so he just nods emphatically and beams at Derek.
“I’ll see you at 7, then, pretty boy,” he winks, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “I’ll be counting down the hours.”
⭐️
Taking care to exit the toilets separately, they return to their desks, filling out the paperwork left over from their most recent case. Spencer is certain that more than one coworker picks up on their shy, knowing looks, shared over the top of coffee mugs and cheap printer paper, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The very thing he’d craved for almost three years, since he first stepped foot in the bullpen and was introduced to Derek Morgan, was within his clutches and he was going to hold on to it no matter what it cost him.
Things feel different almost immediately: ‘pretty boy’ is infinitely more affectionate, the previously platonic touches are lingering and meaningful, Derek’s completely unnecessary paperwork consults seem more affirming and reassuring than ever. The idea that he could possibly spend the rest of his life with Derek Morgan’s hands on him, his passionate kiss on his lips, his compliments and nicknames warming him from the inside out, feels almost dizzying. He knows he’s smiling stupidly, he also knows that JJ and Elle are smiling knowingly, but he just doesn’t care.
He drives himself home and dresses in his smartest suit as soon as he gets back, even though Derek isn’t due for another 30 minutes. For reasons he refuses to acknowledge, he tidies his apartment while he waits and then takes a seat on his sofa, tapping his foot in anxious anticipation. By the time he hears a knock on his door, his heart’s in his mouth and his stomach is fluttering wildly, but that all fades to irrelevancy when he locks eyes with Derek.
“Dr Reid,” he says calmly, smile providing a soft kind of light to his face and Spencer wishes he never had to look away. He passes him a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and Spencer knows enough to recognise it’s a curated bunch, not a hasty supermarket buy but a thoughtful, purposeful trip to the florist.
“Wow,” Spencer says, and he absolutely tries to fight down the emotion rising in his throat but he isn’t quite successful. He takes the offered bouquet and examines them in closer detail, tracing an index-finger along the petal of a yellow daffodil. “New beginnings,” he whispers as tears spring to his eyes. He stares at it a little longer before looking up to meet Derek’s softened, deep brown eyes. He’s still in disbelief that someone would go to the lengths of researching the language of flowers for him, knowing it was something that he liked. “Thank you.”
“New beginnings,” Derek repeats, taking another step closer, “love me, desire, wisdom, and affection returned.” He lifts a hand to rest on Spencer’s cheek again and looks deep into his eyes for just a moment, conveying all he needs to with one look, and leans in to kiss him.
⭐️
Aaaaand this is the conclusion to my 12 Fic Challenge! Thank you to everyone who supported my fics through this journey, I can’t believe all the amazing things it’s led to and I’m so happy that this is the fic to end it. I’m so excited for what’s next in store, so stay tuned! <3
@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez
#my writing#criminal minds#criminal minds writing#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fluff#moreid#moreid writing#moreid fic#moreid angst#moreid fluff#derek Morgan#spencer reid#derek morgan/spencer reid#derek morgan x spencer reid
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Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 6 - The Sound of a Shouting Soul (Part 3)
Wanted to get this out a lot sooner but life got in the way
Full list of translations here
Translation Notes
1. So there’s like rankings for how much someone can hold their drink. Waku (which includes all of Chikusei-sou) are people who don’t get drunk no matter how much they drink. Zaru are people who only get a little bit drunk after drinking. Geko are people who can’t drink at all.
Previous | Next
They had to completely get rid of their summer fatigue and they had to rest their bodies gradually before the meet; they trained a lot during the fall, but they didn’t run as much as they did during the training camp. Even so, as expected, even Kakeru began to feel both physically and mentally tired.
It was from the pressure of thinking “What if we do all this and it doesn’t go well on the day of the meet and it ends up being all for nothing?”
Unlike the previous meets, the qualifiers were a one-round competition with no redos; if you didn’t get the time you wanted, you couldn’t just bet on the next one, and that tension weighed heavily on Kakeru’s mind and body.
The training regimen had become denser. Twenty kilometers was the norm for cross-country, and build-ups were introduced into track practice. For instance, if you ran seven thousand meters, you ran the first thousand meters at a pace of less than three minutes and ten seconds, and then worked your way up to two minutes and fifty seconds at the end.
As they ran long distances faster and faster, the pain was not negligible. The inability to breathe during the endurance runs and the violent palpitations of the heart after running as fast as you can assailed you at the same time. It was like playing water polo while drowning, and Prince and the others threw up many times. However, every time Kiyose would caution, “Endure as much as you can.”
“You’ll get into the habit of throwing up. Hold it in and run.”
“I can’t do it.”
“I’ll choke on my own vomit.”
Prince collapsed onto the grass next to the track, and the twins, who were trying to look after him, also threw up with him. It was a miserable situation.
However, sandwiching the proper amount of rest needed between training sessions, the residents of Chikusei-sou gradually became able to keep up with the build-ups and the twenty kilometer cross-country runs. They went to the Showa Memorial Park in Tachikawa, where the qualifiers would take place, and everyone did a trial run of the course.
One day, less than half a month before the qualifiers, Kiyose gathered everyone after they had finished a cross-country run. A chilly wind blew through the open field in the approaching sunset. The tips of the grass had lost their vigor, and there was no trace of summer left. The fruit on the swaying persimmon trees, which no one was picking, were the same color as the setting sun.
“It’s a battle of concentration from now until the qualifiers,” Kiyose said. “Focus and control yourselves so that you’ll be at your peak both physically and mentally on the day.”
“Well that’s easy to say.” Nico-chan sighed. The stress from the tension was giving him an unusually large appetite these days and he was having a hard time regulating himself.
“I feel like my delicate heart has already reached its peak.” King couldn’t help but get stomach cramps during training. “I wonder if I can last until the qualifiers.”
“Don’t be afraid.” Kiyose’s tone was calm, reassuring everyone. “You’ve all done more than enough training; all that’s left to do is use that pressure to hone yourselves. Envision yourself as a beautiful blade running in the qualifiers, and sharpen and polish it well.”
“What a poetic expression,” Yuki said.
“But I get it,” Prince said. “You don’t want to sharpen it too much or you’ll snap before the qualifiers, but if you keep it too dull, it will be useless if the blade still seems cloudy on the day of the competition. It’s something like that, right?”
“Exactly,” Kiyose nodded. “You can’t get there just by recklessly practicing; it’s a battle within yourself. I want you to listen closely to your mind and body, and sharpen yourselves carefully.”
I see, Kakeru thought. This might be one of the strengths that’s required for long-distance.
Long-distance didn’t require explosive power nor was it something that required extreme concentration during a competition to perform a technique—all you did was send forth your legs alternately and plainly moved forward. All you had to do was sustain the simple act of “running”, which most people had experienced, for a set distance. The stamina needed to sustain that was cultivated during daily training.
In spite of that, Kakeru had seen runners whose health broke down during or right before a competition many times: they ran well at first, but suddenly their pace was thrown into disorder; their bodies were in good shape, but three days before the race, their times during practice suddenly stalled; there were those that caught colds even though they were very careful, and ended up getting taken off the lineup on the day of the competition.
Kakeru couldn’t help but feel confused. Practice makes perfect. Why did people ruin themselves when all they had to do was run? Kakeru himself had gotten diarrhea at the last Inter-High he participated in. He hadn’t eaten anything cold or rotten, but his stomach suddenly took a bad turn. He was still able to run, so there were no problems, but he kept wondering, “Of all days, why did I get a stomach ache right before the race?”
He understood now. It was described as a “failure to adjust”. The reason for almost all of them was pressure; the anxiety of suddenly wondering “Is this enough?” no matter how much you trained; the fearful thought of “What if I still lose?” arising as soon as you were confident that it was enough. The more you sharpened your body and mind, the more fragile you became; you got colds and stomach pains more easily, like a precision instrument that breaks down abruptly from just a little bit of dust.
Honing yourself until you were sharp and smooth enough to overcome fear and anxiety and withstand any dust—that power was probably one aspect of the “strength” Kiyose talked about.
Kakeru understood all that, but there was still the question of whether or not he could put it into practice. The more serious you were about running, the less easily you were able to free yourself from pre-competition nerves, and confronting your own body and mind was a very lonely process. You always had to fight alone in the space between compromise and excess.
Kakeru eventually stopped thinking about everything. The more he thought about it, the more fear would arise, because he could only imagine bad things.
People were afraid of ghosts because they thought about and imagined them. Kakeru hated those sorts of ambiguous, vague things; he didn’t want to be bothered by the irritating dullness of “If I think it exists, it exists”, he wanted clarification on whether it was “there” or “not”. Just like being able to move forward if you simply moved your legs, one foot in front of the other.
Kakeru ran without thinking anything. He threw himself into training and repeated the act of “running” as he remembered it with his body. He didn’t know any other way to overcome pressure.
The other members of Chikusei-sou, unlike Kakeru, were inexperienced, so they hadn’t yet established a way to relieve tension. Some, like Kakeru, practiced harder and harder, some burned incense and slept, and some reread sports manga from beginning to end. Everyone was working hard to make their final adjustments for the qualifiers.
With two days to go before the qualifiers, Kakeru felt that his concentration was improving at a good pace.
Practice that day was light, as they shouldn’t be tired on the day of the competition. Of course, each person did their morning and evening jogs, but there was no real practice scheduled on the day before the qualifiers either. They had done everything they had to do, all that was left was relaxing their bodies while keeping an eye on their health while raising their fighting spirits and concentration.
“Let’s do one last finishing touch.”
At Jouji’s suggestion, everyone at Chikusei-sou decided to have a small drinking party two days before the qualifiers. For this group, drinking was the easiest way to relieve tension and solidify their bonds.
The landlord was invited as well, because he was more or less their coach, but there was a problem: the landlord had entrusted Kiyose with the money to fix the hole, but Kiyose had given that money to Shindou to put aside for the Hakone Ekiden; with the transportation and lodging costs, they never had enough money.
As the landlord stepped over the threshold of the front door, Jouta crossed in front of him while looking at the gravure page of a magazine. Distracted by the photo of a woman in a bathing suit, he took off his shoes without looking up at the ceiling and kept close to Jouta as they went upstairs. The tactic was a success. Kakeru and Jouji, watching the situation from the kitchen, gave each other a small high-five.
It was arranged for Prince to sit on top of the hole. You must not stand up as long as the landlord is here, not even if there’s an earthquake or you have to go to the bathroom. Given that strict order by Kiyose and Shindou, Prince obediently hid the hole while reading manga.
“Now, we would like a few words from our coach,” Kiyose said when the liquor was flowing well. The landlord, hugging a large bottle, got up unsteadily. Wondering if he might see him act like a coach for the first time, Kakeru looked forward to what he was going to say.
“It’s finally time for the qualifiers…let me tell you the secret to winning,” the landlord solemnly stated in his hoarse voice. “Move your left and right legs one after the other and go forward!”
The room fell completely silent. The landlord seemed to have sensed the overflowing disappointment and despair.
“…You do that, and you’ll reach your goal one day. That’s all!”
“’That’s all’?!” King roughly put down his cup.
“Is this person okay?” Yuki said.
“Can’t we get a coach who’s a little bit better?” Nico-chan said.
“Ah, my motivation has completely gone down now,” Jouta said.
Quiet unsatisfied voices filled the room. Kakeru hurriedly turned to Kiyose.
“Haiji-san, from the beginning, you believed that this team could definitely make it to Hakone. I thought it was more than impossible, but…why were you so confident?’
“Mm?” Kiyose looked up from his cup and smiled. “Because everyone can handle their liquor.”
“What?”
Everyone immediately stopped complaining about the landlord and now turned to look at Kiyose.
“There are many long-distance runners who can drink a lot. I guess it’s thanks to their internal metabolism. You guys have surpassed being heavy drinkers, you’re bottomless pits, aren’t you? (1) I’ve been observing your drinking habits for a long time and I thought, ‘This could work.’”
“There are plenty of heavy drinkers in the world.”
Shindou looked up at the sky as though to say “I can’t believe this.”
“You dragged people into this thing for that reason!?” Yuki’s voice cracked with anger. Kakeru groaned. He had wanted Kiyose to get everyone motivated again, but it had had the opposite effect.
“Did we really come all this way based only on how much we drink?” Prince, shocked, was about to get up, but Shindou restrained him with his eyes and he hurriedly sat back down. “That’s like building a skyscraper on top of mud with just willpower.”
“Of course that’s not the only reason,” Kiyose said, but his articulation was a bit odd. “I noticed the spark of talent that had been sleeping in all of you.”
“Haiji-san’s drunk,” Kakeru sighed.
“Aaah, isn’t there anything livelier to talk about?” King fell onto the tatami, looking up.
“By the way, how are things with Hanako-san?” Musa asked the twins.
“Hana-chan?”
“What do you mean by things? We get along well?”
The twins both answered innocently.
They don’t know. These guys really don’t know at all. Everyone else muttered to each other.
“By the way, you guys don’t have girlfriends, right?” Nico-chan, who had been nibbling on a piece of dried squid since earlier, said as though it had just occurred to him. “If you do, you’ll have to get them to cheer for us the day after tomorrow.”
It was rare to hear such a topic discussed at Chikusei-sou. Part of it was because their living spaces were so close, they were careful not to deliberately step into each other’s private lives, but it was also because they would all somehow know even without being told expressly.
However, for almost half a year, all of them had been busy training and weren’t able to keep track of each other’s love lives at all. Of course, no one had ever brought their girlfriend to their room before—their conversations and anything else could be overheard, after all.
The twins said, “We’re recruiting one!” in unison. If you’re recruiting, then you should be aware of the existence of applicants, Kakeru thought. King silently curled his back.
“What about you?” Yuki asked Nico-chan.
“I don’t have that kind of energy left right now,” Nico-chan scratched his stubbled chin.
“Same here,” Shindou hung his head. “I’ve been going all around negotiating with the supporters’ association and the school, so I’m afraid that she’ll run out of patience with me soon.”
“You’re dating someone?” Kakeru was surprised. He couldn’t quite connect the reserved and honest Shindou with the brilliance of love.
“Shindou-san has been in a relationship with a woman since he started school,” Musa explained. “It is hopeless for me. I cannot find anyone who will come to my hometown.”
You don’t have to suddenly go all the way there… Kakeru thought.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend, Kakeru?” Musa asked. Kakeru shook his head.
“I’m not popular, after all.”
“It does not seem that way, though.”
“Um, what about you, Prince-san?” He hurriedly shifted targets, but Prince’s eyes were still on his manga.
“I’m only interested in 2-D girls.”
Even though he was born with an idol-like face, it was like pearls before swine. Prince glanced at Kiyose.
“Leaving that aside, I sometimes hear rumors about Haiji-san in the literature department, you know? He looks like that, but there’s all kinds of…Ow!”
Crying out in pain slightly, Prince shut his mouth. A peanut flicked by Kiyose had hit him right between the eyebrows. There was no one brave enough to press Kiyose more than that.
Kiyose laughed slightly and asked, “What about Yuki?”
“I’ve got prospects, a good personality and my looks aren’t bad? Of course I have one,” Yuki answered calmly. King curled himself up more and more.
“Aren’t you going to ask me?” As the landlord was pouring shochu into his teacup right to the brim, a phone rang. It was Yuki’s. Excuse me, Yuki said and left the room.
“What, was that his girlfriend again?” Nico-chan said. Kakeru also noticed that Yuki’s phone had been ringing a lot these days.
“But Yuki has been looking somewhat somber recently, has he not?” Musa tilted his head in worry.
King seemed to have decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. “There’s no ice,” he said, shaking the empty bowl. Kakeru, who was near the door, stood up and said, “I’ll go get some.”
He went downstairs and saw that the entrance’s sliding door was open, and that Yuki was outside on the phone. He could hear his voice slightly. It seemed like he was arguing about something, and although Kakeru was curious, he crept into the kitchen, concealing his footsteps so that he wouldn’t disturb him.
He transferred the ice into the bowl and refilled the fridge’s ice maker with water. Judging by the way everyone was drinking, it might not be ready in time. Kakeru turned the fridge’s temperature knob to “strong” and left the kitchen with the bowl.
The front door was still open. But there was no sound of talking. After some hesitation, Kakeru put on his sandals and peeked outside.
Yuki was squatting next to the door, looking up at the night sky.
“I made ice,” Kakeru called out to him softly. “Let’s go back and keep drinking with everyone.”
“‘Kay,” Yuki answered, but he made no attempt to stand up. He looked absentminded, his left hand gripping his phone.
“Did you get some kind of bad news?” Kakeru stepped over the threshold and squatted down next to Yuki while holding the bowl.
“No,” Yuki said. “My parents saw the news story and nagged me about showing up back home once in a while.”
“Where do you live?”
“Tokyo.”
If that’s the case, then it wouldn’t take much time to go back home, and there’s no need for him to lodge in a rundown apartment like Chikusei-sou in the first place. That reminds me, Yuki-senpai said he didn’t go back home for New Year’s, Kakeru recalled, and sensed that there were some circumstances behind it.
Insects were buzzing loudly in the grass of the yard.
“Kakeru, why aren’t you excited about getting interviewed?” Yuki asked.
“Umm,” Kakeru said. “I’m resented a lot. I think my parents and the guys from my high school team probably don’t want to see my face, so that’s why: I want to be as inconspicuous as possible.”
“You’ve been through a lot, I see. I thought you were just a track maniac,” Yuki’s words were biting, but he didn’t pry any deeper.
“Thanks to being a track maniac, I ended up having to keep secretly running away from interviews,” Kakeru laughed.
Noise suddenly erupted from the twins’ room. There were sounds of people running around and shouting something.
“What’s going on?” Kakeru and Yuki looked overhead and stood up.
The window facing the yard opened. “Yuki! Are you there!” Kiyose shouted.
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
“Call an ambulance!” Kiyose recognized Kakeru and Yuki and waved his arms to hurry them. “The landlord’s throwing up blood!”
Kiyose got on the ambulance and accompanied the landlord to the hospital, and then finally returned to Chikusei-sou some time after the next day had already started.
The early to bed and early to rise routine was so ingrained in everyone that they couldn’t keep their eyes open, but they were all worried about the landlord’s condition, so they had stayed up and waited. Kiyose, surrounded by the residents at the entrance, gloomily told them the news with a tired expression.
“He’s got a stomach ulcer, so he’ll stay in hospital for a week. Apparently the reason is stress from extreme nervousness.”
“Stress!?” Jouji shouted hysterically. “Why was he stressed?”
“He was a carefree coach with no sense of responsibility though?” Jouta tilted his head. He definitely just drank too much, Kakeru thought.
“I also have a lot of questions about the reason, but…the landlord was probably worrying about us in his own way,” Kiyose rubbed his temple. “For that reason, the day after tomorrow—or rather, tomorrow—we will do the qualifiers without the coach there.”
“I don’t really mind, though.”
“It’s not like he’s ever there.”
The twins stated their candid thoughts, and Kakeru nodded.
“Didn’t you say we can count on him when we need it?” Kakeru muttered.
“I said ‘probably,’” Kiyose responded, and as though to say “good grief,” took off the hoodie he had on.
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omg going to an mgk concert or something but having to bring like your little cousin a long, and your cousin wanders off back stage while you’re in the bathroom so you’re frantically looking for them and see them with colson whos crouched down to their level, in full dad mode, just interacting really cutely with your cousin and when you go up to them colson flirts with you
You had left her by the door to your bathroom stall. Told her to wait for 2 minutes while you peed, she was 5 she should know not to wander off.
So why now we’re you rushing around the crowded concert venue shouting your cousins name. Your worry sky rocketing, now you were really dead, your mom and aunt would murder you,
“Anna! Anna Marie!” Pushing through random people and down random hallways you weren’t even awear could be in a small club venue, you paused hearing Anna’s small voice
“Anna!” Rushing towards it you saw her stood looking at a crouched blonde man, his hand holding hers as he spoke to her softly
“Hey we’ll find your cousin. Just couldn’t help wandering around huh? Yeah I get that. Venues are cool huh?” Anna nodded slightly looking around her eyes landing on you
“Sissy” Anna rushed over to you grabbing you around the legs hugging you
“Anna. I told you to stay in the bathroom with me. Why’d you wander off? Huh? You know you aren’t supposed to walk off with out me” Anna shrugged hugging you tighter.
“She just wanted to explore, the venue is wild with cool things in the walls” looking up you came face to face with the person you had originally bought the ticket to see
“You’re....Uh....hi....uh” you couldn’t think of the words to say your mouth dry suddenly
“Yeah I’m colson. Anna came wandering around the corner, how she got into the backstage area is beyond me but my daughter used to do the same thing. Just see something and walk off toward it. The amount of times I ran through way too crowded venues to find her. I could win the marathon run in the olympics” laughing you nodded
“Well thank you for being the one who found her, not some creep looking to sell kid parts online” colson chuckled nodding
“Anna’s pretty chill. Said she liked my last album. Which worries me seeing as she’s like 5” laughing you sighed
“She heard me listening to it and suddenly all she wanted to listen to was kells. Her fav is I think I’m okay, mostly cause she can sing along with it” looking down at Anna she was staring at Colson shy as could be now
“Awe you like my friend Dom too then huh? Well I expect to see you at the front, you’ll be my good luck charm tonight” Anna smiled blushing and hiding her face in your leg
“And you too, maybe stay after the shows over, I’d like to know miss Anna’s cousins name.” Before you could respond he was rushing off to the closed off actual back stage. Looking back with a small wink and he was gone
“Anna.....if this was you playing Cupid. I may take you to more concerts” picking her up you made your way into the venue, for some reason it felt like all night Colsons eyes were on you and Anna.
So maybe you were his good luck charms.
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I don't know if you have time/desire for more catboy but if you do...
Steve getting something gross stuck in his fur (maybe Billy's bubble gum or some candy?) and Steve's trying to contort himself to clean it, but it's in a spot he just can't quite reach so they have to figure out how to get it off when a bath just makes it worse.
Time? None at all. Desire?? Overflowing with it, babe!!
Oh my gosh let me take this opportunity to enjoy some Halloween time!! I imagine cat boy Steve loves Halloween because hey free built in costume he always wears! Him and other cat people just have the best All Hallows ever!
Steve didn’t have much when he first came to Billy’s, just the ears on his head and the collar that got unceremoniously dumped into the trash can. Billy convinced him to go shopping together once, and Steve didn’t care for it much. Felt far too close to a date, too close to what he wanted from Billy— but not what the other wanted from him.
So soon billy just started leaving money on the coffee table where he could. Small amounts. Just enough for Steve to use it to feel some sort of independence. Because billy was stepping far too over the line— no way Steve actually wanted to be in a serious relationship with the guy he nicknamed ‘kidnapper’.
Halloween was different, Halloween was everything goes. Steve had gotten a job at a library just down the Main Street of town, not a 5 minute walk from their apartment. He would sit behind the counter tapping his long nails across a hard back book, most days, using his pointy ears and flicking tail to point out teenagers making too much noise. And the older woman who worked there all fawned over him.
He took the later evening shift, he said it was to help the old bats out, also I’m by myself! Don’t have to worry about them touching my ears or calling me ‘kitty’ to my face!
He would stumble home every day with his ears low on his floppy brown hair, and his shoulder bag filled with books across his chest.
Billy told him he shouldn’t be walking that late at night, don’t care how far, makes me worried someone might want a pretty cat like you?
And Steve would laugh, strip down to a pair of flannel pajama bottoms he stole from Billy, giggling the whole time, and lay down so his head is on Billy’s chest. Let those rough from work hands relax the tension in the muscles around his ears.
They didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. They felt like two jigsaw puzzle pieces meeting. And those don’t have to talk to know they fit.
Halloween was the first time Billy got to see the side of Steve that wasn’t soft sweaters or library books. Wasn’t a fierce independence acting as a wall againt the trauma of abandonment. Of abuse.
Halloween was the first time Billy got to see Steve in a skin tight black cat suit. Designed for cat boys and bought because there’s a bar right down the block from the library and it’s free drinks for cats tonight! I’ve just got to go, Billy, that’s so rad!
Halloween was when Billy followed Steve around, not the other way around. Pulled out an old leather jacket he was surprised still fit him at all. Didn’t talk about the way Steve was going for an all black look but didn’t make any move to take off the brown leather collar Billy got him as an apology gift.
Didn’t talk about the way the wet look pleather on Steve’s cat suit matched. Didn’t mention they looked like a couple. That Billy might hinder Steve if he’s looking to ride a dick that night.
No, he just smiled and walked arm in arm down the block as the sun set. Pretty oranges and red filling the sky. Leaves crunching underfoot the same color as Steve’s pretty hair, all styled up with hairspray and perfect as could be.
The building is lit up with strings of bright purple, a lime green naked bulb sits in the front door where a bouncer stands and collects Billy’s head fee while Steve just flicks his tail to get it.
The bar is crowded with ghouls, and goblins, witches line the bar with their pointy hats. Decorated with arching white spider webs.
Billy knows Steve really only drinks wine because it actually tastes good unlike the piss Billy drinks, so he ain’t surprised when he orders some candy-apple monstrosity. Laps it up with his devilish pink tongue when he gets it. Catches Billy watching over the rim of his tall beer glass.
Steve downs the martini in one gulp before grabbing Billy around the hand, pulling him with a naughty glint in his eye towards the dance floor.
He turns around, moves Billy’s hands around his hips, purrs dance with me, nice and slow?
In a question that doesn’t sound like a question. His tail wrapping possessively around Billy’s legs. Billy groans back, right into the chocolate fudge swirl of his sensitive ear, set the pace, pretty cat, you know I’m good for it.
They let go for song after song, rolling into the next like their bodies roll. Billy’s belt buckle shimmering and catching against the fabric of Steve’s cat suit. Both a mess of sweat, dripping off their foreheads into their greedy open mouths. But they don’t care, they don’t stop.
Not until Steve’s ear gets yanked by another bar patron. Billy’s got his face burrowed into the side of Steve’s neck, drowning the way his wild flower and musk cologne always lingers on the plush leather, so he doesn’t realize anything happening until Steve’s hands move off his own. They lift from where they were cupped around Billy’s own to swat at another hand hovering around his head. His ears. They stayed at if risking another grope.
Steve hissed low and mean, warning three’s a company, creepy bastard! Now back off before I show you how quick I can bite off a dick. His voice nothing like Billy’s heard it. It made his head snap up so quick.
The guy wouldn’t let up, his face ruddy with alcohol and his golden Roman crown as lopsided as his sheet he’s trying to pass off as a costume. He pops a sucker out his mouth to reply. It’s made his whole mouth cherry red, Billy hates to look at it. Hates the words he’s spewing even more.
Steve only lets him get a sentence into his explanation about how a wild cat like you needs a firm hand before he’s shoving with two fingers into the center of the guy’s chest. Backing him up with a sharp nail that disappears into the fabric. Hopefully to leave a prick of blood.
Billy’s hand snaps forward of its own accord, pressing his huge palm flat into the guy’s shoulder and sending him stumbling backwards. He’s always up for a bar fight, knows a drunk bastard like this wouldn’t win always. He shouts out I warned you man, and now I gotta kick your ass! But doesn’t get that far.
He’s caught by two hands on the lapels of his jacket. Yanking him to the side where Steve’s turned from the ass hole. Watching Billy with those nervous dinner plate eyes again. All glittering gold and chocolate chips, making his knees weak. He’s not worth it, Steve purrs. And he’s right. The guy isn’t worth it. But Steve’s worth winning one bar fight and so, so much more. He’s worth the world to Billy. So he listens and follows as they dip to the bathroom.
It’s not until Billy’s coming out of the stall he used to take a leak does he notice that creepy bastard’s pop stuck in the fur of Steve’s tail. It’s amazing he doesn’t feel it, all glossy and red and clutching at the silky fur, but it’s a testimony to how thick his tail really is. Billy knows, he’s had the honor of running his fingers through it enough times.
He offers let me help, get some soap and try to scrub it out.
But Steve just laughs, bracing himself on the side of the cracking porcelain sink, lifting one leg up while the other held his weight, then twists around until the flat of his tongue can lick across the base of his tail. Gathers spit by licking and licking, grooming the pop off his fur inch by inch until it detached into his mouth.
He drops his leg from the sink with a sigh, a dreamy moany thing that Billy’s never going to get out of his head.
Watches as Steve rolls the pop around in his mouth a couple times, savoring the artificial cherry flavor. Savoring the way he wasn’t about to let that ass hole ruin his Halloween. Then he pressed to open the trash bin with one stomp before spitting the pop away.
Billy’s never been more turned on, never been more grossed out as the same time he’s so hard. Never wanted to taste the lingering bubble pop cherry flavor from another pair of lips before.
He simply leans back against another sink and whistles, says that was something else, Stevie, where all can you reach?
And Steve doesn’t tell him. Huffs out the side of his mouth while he rolls his eyes. Blushing pretty. Says I seriously need another drink now. And something not cherry!
And Billy follows him back to the bar, decorated for Halloween and dripping with spider webs, with a smile.
#imagine you find a cat boy in the rain and he just stays and let’s you pet his ears every night huh how wild#but he thinks you don’t love him?? SMH#cat boy Steve#harringrove
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Awards Night (George MacKay smut)
requested: yes/no (send us some requests!)
pairing: George MacKay x reader
warnings: smut,,, i mean,,, yeah,,,
word count: 1,565
a/n: So we wrote this in our campus art museum. That's all. That's the note.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you spun once more in the mirror, attempting to find something wrong with your long, flowing dress. Most nights like this made reality too close to home as you worried about being good enough to be on George's arm at an event so important to him, where the image was such a big deal. You shook your head to clear the thoughts from your mind, holding your chin up in the process. Of course you were good enough. Hell, it had only been a few months and the man was already head over heels.
You pushed a bobby pin back into place and moved across the room, taking a deep breath before throwing the door open and coming into view of George tugging at one of his cufflinks and straightening his tie. He turned to look up at you momentarily before pausing and standing up straighter. His eyes sparkled. "It's going to be difficult leaving you alone tonight." His smirk sent goosebumps down your back and a blush to your cheeks.
"You're one to talk," you jeered back at him, causing him to chuckle lowly.
He stepped closer to you, resting his hands on your neck. "We could stay in, you know?" He kissed you lightly, cautious of your lipstick, before pressing his lips to your jaw and hovering near your ear. "You could make a man out of me?" You laughed at his statement and shoved him away from you, despite the rather serious tone of his voice. You could tell by the husk in his accent that it was going to be a long night.
The limo was rather over the top, in your opinion, but it was out of your control anyway. George took his time to sit as close to you as he could manage, his hand resting on your knee and moving to dip to your upper inner thigh. “Would you contain yourself?” You whispered sardonically, as you covered his hand with your own. He tilted his head towards you with an eyebrow raised before capturing your lips with his. Your fist tightened around the lapel of his jacket, bringing him closer to you. His teeth grazed your bottom lip hungrily. He leaned away from you momentarily. You could see in his eyes this was not all he wanted. You undid his suit jacket button as he dipped lower to slip his hand beneath the bottom of your dress. You shivered with anticipation as his fingers grazed up your legs. He found your lips again, kissing you with more force as you guided his hand to where you needed his touch.
His fingertips danced along the hem of your underpants, lightly brushing over your sensitive core. You moaned at the feeling, urging him to pleasure you. It must have been the new tux and the confidence that came with it, but he was utterly irresistible to you. He chuckled lightly against your lips before breaking your kiss and burying his face in your hair. "I need to contain myself?" He mocked, pushing aside your underwear and beginning to rub circles against your clit.
You grasped onto his wrist and his eyes returned to yours with a devious expression. "Don't start anything you can't finish," you had barely managed to whimper before he slipped a finger into you, eliciting a small moan to pass your lips.
"Love, you're already so wet." You fought not to roll your eyes as he began to pump his finger in and out of you before adding another. You bit your lip and he smirked at you, a look that made you tongue-tied when combined with his actions. His fingers curled slightly, building the tension in your gut. "Say my name," he taunted.
He abruptly stopped his actions as the limo came to a halt. You barely had time to catch your breath as George slipped his fingers into his mouth and narrowed his eyes at you. You were left speechless as he climbed from the car like nothing besides light conversation had just ensued in the backseat. He helped you from the limo and smiled at the cameras, oozing with charm. There was no doubt a slight blush painting your cheeks as you tried not to think about the lust blown look in George's eyes as he licked your cum from his fingers. You were dissatisfied and close enough to the edge to be almost uncomfortable with George not being able to touch you.
Sam Mendes greeted the two of you once you entered the banquet hall. Everyone was buzzing with excitement and nervous jitters. George greeted his friends like he hadn't seen them in years, which was heartwarming, to say the least. After the two of you had made your rounds, George led you away from the crowd and down one of the hallways. "Where are we going?" You asked as you took note of his careful inspection of the hallway.
“You’ll see.” He tugged you into a nearby bathroom beside him and his motives clicked into place for you.
You giggled slightly as the two of you stuffed into one of the stalls. You were thankful that everyone's attention was on the celebrities in the banquet hall, causing the bathroom to be empty. George pinned you against the stall door and crashed his lips into yours, moaning as you ground your hips into his. His fingers dug into your sides as your hand snaked down to rub against him through his trousers. "Are you really going to fuck me in a bathroom stall?" Your voice came out breathy and uneven.
"Only if you beg," he quipped back.
"Do it." You smiled up at him, reaching for his belt buckle. He pulled at your dress as you did this.
"If you insist," he jested as you fumbled with his zipper slightly, causing him to chuckle. After the two of you spent an agonizing amount of time trying to unzip the zipper, he was finally accessible to you. In an instant his lips were on yours, messily shoving his tongue against yours in a fit of hair and teeth as his arm wrapped around your waist. He rather roughly --- and rather ungracefully --- discarded your underwear to a different spot in the bathroom, gripping on one of your legs and pulling it up to rest against his hip. He restrained you against the stall door and you pushed his pants farther down his legs.
“How much time do we have?” You asked, taking his length in your hand. You felt him harden more with your touch as you jerked him a few times.
He buried his face in your shoulder, moving your hand and positioning himself in between your thighs. “Enough,” he answered before pressing himself into you with a string of curse words. You hooked your arms around his shoulders in an attempt to combat your weakening knees. He gave you only seconds to adjust to him before he began to thrust into you, holding you steady against the stall. His hot breath rolled over your shoulder as he buried himself deeper into you, moving quicker. Your head tilted back against the cool metal of the door at his actions as you bit back a moan of your own. You were positive that if he hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have been able to stand on your own. You fought the urge to plunge your hands into his hair, vaguely remembering the purpose for tonight and the fact that photos still needed to be taken. The sound of his moaning in your ear, his lips against your shoulder and neck, and his upward thrusts were bringing you closer to your climax. And seemingly just in time.
George kissed you briefly. “I’m close,” he practically groaned.
“Already?” You quipped back and he narrowed his eyes at you again, almost calling you on your hypocrisy. He picked up his pace, causing you to let out a small whimper. “Cum,” you stated as he gripped onto the top of the door behind you.
“Ladies first,” he groaned into your ear. You tightened around him with a rather devious expression; you were going to win this unintended competition. He brought your leg up higher for more leverage and had miraculously found your sweet spot. “I said, ‘you first’.”
You bit your lip. “George, I…” And that’s when you felt him release inside of you. A wicked grin spread across your face as your own orgasm followed closely behind his. George’s body seemed to untense in your arms and take a breath.
“I beat you,” he jeered, untangling himself and pulling his pants back into place.
You chuckled and straightened your dress, looking for your underwear. “It wasn’t a race, you psychopath.” George looked down at his watch and his eyes grew a bit wider. The two of you struggled to get out of the bathroom stall and then nearly sprinted to get to the banquet hall again. Faces flushed, you took your seats just in time.
“Where did the two of you disappear off to?” Sam asked with a look of relief washing over his stressed expression.
You felt yourself blush and opened your mouth to say something but George beat you to it. “Phone call,” he answered simply. Sam seemed satisfied with the comment.
“Some phone call,” Dean quirked from beside you.
#1917 imagines#1917#george mackay#george mackay x reader#george mackay imagines#will schofield x reader#schofield#will schofield imagine#dean charles chapman
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The Racer // THREE
It had been a few days since Youngkyun last saw Taeyang. He didn’t come to Juho’s shop anymore, but had agreed to stay to come see Youngkyun race. On race days, Youngkyun left the shop early, so he could go prepare, and today was no exception. He left at around three in the afternoon to go to his garage, and get his bike. He spend a good amount of time making sure everything was fine, that there was enough oil and everything, and after his methodical check, he smiled to himself. He was going to win tonight’s race, he was sure of it. He went out on his bike to finish checking everything felt right, and then drove it to where the race would take place. He installed it in his station, and got a snack, that would count as a dinner tonight. Luckily for him, Joowon was in a station pretty far away from his. Juyeon had come to see him and make a bit of small talk while they were waiting for the beginning of the race. Later, it was Juho and Taeyang’s turn to show up. The youngest was pretty surprised to see that Taeyang really agreed to come, and it made him smile, giving him another motivation to be the best. Youngkyun loved proving people they were wrong.
The beginning of the race approaching, Youngkyun changed into his racing outfit, with the big jacket, and the pants and boots that would protect him in case anything happened. Taeyang and Juho returned to the place Youngkyun indicated them. The latter put on his helmet, and drove to the start line. Once in place, Joowon just happened to place himself right next to him. As the announcer gave the countdown to the beginning of the race, on the count of one, Youngkyun gave the best middle finger he could to Joowon, before speeding up like a monster.
With little to no surprises, Youngkyun finished the race first, Joowon only coming 4th. Something that Youngkyun did not miss to tell him once the other racer came to see him at his stand.
On the other hand, Taeyang was groaning, trying to find Youngkyun’s stall. Juho had an emergency, an alarm that went off at the shop, and he left him there, promising to come back soon. So in the meantime, Taeyang did not really want to stay alone. Once he arrived at the stall, he saw Youngkyun talking with someone, so he stayed a bit behind, listening, but not wanting to interrupt.
“Come on Joowon, did you really think that you could beat me? Come on man.” Youngkyun laughed a little as he took off his jacket.
“I know you cheated, I know that for a fact!”
“How could I cheat in this, man? Just accept the fact that you’re a sore loser.”
He laughed again, but this time, Joowon’s fist landed directly in his jaw, making Youngkyun groan, and Taeyang hiss.
“You’re gonna regret that you fucking cunt”
Youngkyun tried to attack back, but Joowon had already called some friends, to help him. Taeyang tried to leave to find someone, but everyone was either gone, or too busy, or just straight up ignored him. He eventually rushed back to Youngkyun, ready to stop the fight himself if he had too, but the other men already left. All he found was a really bloody Youngkyun, on the floor, clenching his stomach. He looked up at Taeyang and scrunched his face.
“How much of that did you see?” He asked coldly.
“W-What? Why would you care about that?? Come one, I have to get you to a doctor.” Taeyang approached and reached his hand.
“I’ll be fine, I’ll just sleep and that’s all.” Youngkyun tried to get up on his own, but after a few tries, grabbed Taeyang’s hand. “Thanks”
“Yeah yeah no problem. But really, you can’t stay like that.”
“And I’m not going to the hospital or I don’t know what, so strop insisting.” He hissed and put back his stuff in his bag.
“Okay okay, no need to get like that. I’m almost a doctor, at least let me check you?”
“Check what? It’s just a few bruises, and I’m sure as hell not getting naked in here for you to train on me.” He winced in pain at every step he took.
“I think one of your ribs might me broken, seeing as you make a face everytime you breath, and you try to hold it. With how much it’s bleeding, your eyebrow arch has suffered a good amount of damage as well. If you stay like that, It’ll get infected and get progressively worse and worse, and I’ve seen it, you don’t want that.”
Youngkyun was a bit taken aback by what the boy knew, and finally complied, handing him his helmet, after checking his phone.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking you home, Juho just texted me that his car just broke down.”
“Oh really, now? Why does that happen now? Can you even drive in such a state?”
“I’ve done worse.”
He climbed first, and started the engine, then looking at Taeyang. The other boy sighed and put his helmet on, climbing behind Youngkyun. He wrapped his arms around his waist, trying to not cling where his ribs were hurt. It only took a few minutes for Youngkyun to reach his house. He yelped in pain as he climbed off of the bike, and pushed it in the garage, that he then locked. Taeyang was watching him all the way, very concerned about his injuries that started bleeding again. He couldn’t leave him like this. Youngkyun just walked in the apartment, without really looking at Taeyang. Once they were both in, he turned on the lights and locked the doors. He took of his shoes and jacket, to reveal his shirt soaked in blood.
“That guy, I’ll kill him sometimes I swear.” He growled lowly.
“Take your shirt off, where can I find an emergency kit?” Taeyang asked, a bit of a bossy tone.
“What?” He raised an eyebrow, but instantly regretted it.
“Did I stutter? I want to help you, don’t be so dense.”
Youngkyun rolled his eyes but then just gestured to the bathroom. Taeyang went to get what he’d need, as Youngkyun took of his shirt, like he was asked. Taeyang came back and let his eyes linger on the other boy for a second. He couldn’t deny that physically, Youngkyun would totally be his type. He just had problems with his lifestyle.
“Okay, I’ll take care of your ribs, but Judging by the bruising you should definitely go get an x-ray, I’ll come with you.”
“Why do you do that?” Hwiyoung simply asked.
“Do what?” Taeyang didn’t even look up, to immersed in wrapping Youngkyun’s ribs neatly.
“Be nice to me. I thought you hated me, from the moment you saw me in the record store.”
“How could I hate you when I didn’t even talk to you. You are definitely not the most enjoyable person, but I don’t hate you. Here, this should stay in place for the night, with a painkiller or two, and I’ll take you to the hospital tomorrow, no buts.”
For once in his life, Youngkyun didn’t answer, and just let Taeyang take care of him. He first cleaned the blood on his face, taking care of the cuts on his lips, and cheekbones. When he got to his eyebrow, he bit his lip nervously.
“You’re not going to like that, but I might have to take you to the ER now.”
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REQUESTED: “caught in an act; mafia version” [ateez]
genre: fluff + suggestive + mafia! au
ficstyle: bulletpoints + reactions
request: “ haiii could you please write ateez mafia au when you and him making out ” + “ Hi! Was scrolling on what to read and completely fell in love with your writing! Keep up the good work❤💜 I also want to request smth: ateez reaction about being caught kissing their girlfriends by the other boys! Thxxxx “
note: happy holidays + please read at your own risk
HONGJOONG
(type: the tease)
Hongjoong grabbed both sides of your jaw as he gently pushed you farther into the sofa
he had just came home from working with the godfathers of the neighboring mafia leagues
it took him hours on hours dealing with them; they were indecisive but didn’t know what they wanted
that’s why he loved coming home to you
someone who knew what they wanted and when they wanted it
and he knew what you wanted and liked
even just kissing him was like you were in heaven
maybe it was because he used to have a tongue piercing but he definitely knew how to please you with just his tongue
Hongjoong disregarded your moans for more as he kept it to just making out with you
because of your loudness, you didn’t hear Mingi walking in
“OKAY CALM DOWN FOR A SECOND.. GEEZUS..” he calls out as he places some paperwork down on Hongjoong’s desk
Hongjoong felt kinda embarrassed but also kinda proud of how uncomfortable he got Mingi
“you wanna get in on this?” Hongjoong jeered as he snaked his hand around your waist
you shoved him out of embarrassment; you tried hard not to make eye contact with Mingi
Mingi tosses a blanket over to you two, “I’ll pass this time, lover boy.. see ya later, Y/N..”
Hongjoong chuckles into your neck, “he said, “I’ll pass THIS time,” didn’t he~”
“maybe he did, but I want you right now..” you muttered under his peppered kisses; tugging at the hem of his shirt
he pulls away and wraps you in the blanket, “I DON’T KNOW.. MAYBE LATER~”
he sticks his tongue out as he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks out the door
SEONGHWA
(type: the ultimate dom)
making out with Seonghwa is like trying to fight for a breath of air
you’re always pushed up against something; the bed, the wall, the bathroom stall
even if you tried to subconsciously push him off, he’ll still be taking your breath away
literally
sometimes you’ll try to initiate things; just to rile him up, to tease him
it never works in your favor
he might let you led things like holding his hands, or kissing him on the cheek
anything more than that, don’t even think twice
but if you went for it anyways, he’d click his tongue as the first warning
grab your jaw to make strong direct eye contact and sternly state your name as the second warning
he won’t even give you a third warning; he’ll just push you up against whatever surface is available
so today was no different, you thought that maybe you could catch him after collecting his share of money
you hoped that he was tired so he’d be more off-guard
but the next thing you knew, you were pressed onto the leather sofa
the straps of your dress was falling off of your shoulders
your hair was messily draped around your face
as Seonghwa was locking his lips with yours
that was an image Wooyoung would be ingrained in his head for a LONG time
he had just entered the room to re-calculate the amount Seonghwa collected; he knocked a couple times but there was no answer
Seonghwa caught his eye and stopped; you thanked him for a chance to breathe
“you wanna just stand there or do you want in on this?” Seonghwa asked as he brushed his hair out of his face
“uh-um.. I can.. uh.. just come back.. lat-..whenever you’re done..sir...” Wooyoung trips on his way out
Seonghwa was really able to dominated anyone.. and probably everyone
YUNHO
(type: the teddy bear)
he was always sweet to you
even if he was notorious for ruining other people’s lives
he would always treat you so well
when he was with you, he’s a hopeless romantic
he always careful with you
well he tried, it’s hard when he’s such a big guy
a sweet, soft kiss always ends up him caging you into his body as he wrestles with your tongue
he loves how small you look under him
it turns him on even more
he always did this thing where he placed his forehead on top of yours after kissing
it sent shivers up your spine knowing that he was dealing with rings of mafia lords and here he was being so smitten by you
like you were with him
you could say all his underlings were jealous of your relationship with him
especially Jongho
speaking of that boy, he’s never even had physically contact with other person; romantically
so when he accidentally waltzed into Yunho’s study, he couldn’t help but tense up when he saw his boss smothering you
Jongho had to loudly cough to make himself known
Yunho frantically looks from the wall behind you to you and then to Jongho, with wide eyes
he tries to adjust himself and help fix you up
Yunho nods before turning around to face Jongho, “let’s go do work elsewhere yeah? How’s your day?”
he’d shoved Jongho towards the door and winks at you before making their way out
YEOSANG
(type: the robot)
Yeosang is a quiet man
but that doesn’t let him from getting what he wants
although he doesn’t seem like it, he enjoys having a heated moment with you
it will always but a spur of the moment
because he’s always over-thinking about timing with you
he wants to make it right for you
it was weird because when it came to mafia work; he didn’t need to even take a second thought
but when he goes for it, he REALLY goes for it
he always starts off with massaging your neck
sometimes he just continues sitting there massaging your neck
sometimes he’ll make his way down to your waist to hoist you up to his lap
he’ll start to pepper kisses on your jaw and slowly make his way to his lips
he loves massaging your body; anywhere basically
Yeosang started to get into one of those moments when he was driving you back from a dinner
he was just innocently tucking your hair out of your face
all of a sudden, you both found each other in the backseat of the leather seats of his car
Hongjoong was wondering why his colleague was taking so long
he could see the steam in the car and sternly knocked on the window of the car door
Yeosang straighten up in an instant and got out of the car first
he didn’t say anything and briskly walked passed Hongjoong
Hongjoong just nods to acknowledge you and follows after Yeosang; nagging at him
SAN
(type: the duality)
you get the best of both worlds with San
when he’s had a good day, he’s full of love and fluffiness
he’ll cup your face and squish your cheeks; kissing constellations onto your face
but if he’s had a hard day of work, he’s a little bit different
in the beginning, he’ll be standoffish and you’ll notice it
“babe... what’s wrong?”
you always start by giving him a little peptalk
he’ll push off your words of encouragements at first; seeing that he’ll be mad from whatever he was dealing with before
you’d rub your hands up and down his face to his chest; if you throw in a couple of teasing remarks
and he’ll have no choice but you shove his tongue down your throat
I don’t make the rules; this is the way that he is
“you don’t know what you signed up for..” he’ll chuckle against your mouth
but you’ll snap back with a smirk, “maybe I know EXACTLY what I signed up for~”
you guys can get.. um.. a little loud
but it vocally or just bumping into furniture or thrashing each other against surfaces
Seonghwa would come storming into the room; annoyed by the fact that you two have to be so loud
San would just pull you into his chest as he shoots an oh-so-sickly-sweet smile at Seonghwa
“we’ll be quieter~”
Seonghwa would roll his eyes and pick up his keys, “that sounds like a lie.. I’ll be out. just don’t make a mess or anything...”
MINGI
(type: the hinedere)
his appearance makes his job a lot easier
when he wasn’t with you, he was cold and cynical; almost sarcastic at times because he doesn’t take anyone seriously
it’s like a 180 degree flip when he gets off of work to be with you
“awh~ look at my cute, little, baby angel~”
he’ll start off by kissing you everywhere but your lips and then he’ll make you work for his kisses
which is where they get spicy
this is when he’ll let you sit on him as you lay onto his chest
he does this thing where he’ll smile the whole time that you two are kissing
he honestly can’t believe how happy horny you make him just by being there
frankly speaking, he’ll let you do ALL the hard work
because he’s gone most of the time and you know what he likes, so it’ll just be easier to let you do your thang
so basically he’s a little submissive for you
no one’s really seen Mingi like this
that was no one until Yunho accidentally walks into the room
“hey Mingi.. I need that file-”
everyone just stops everything that they’re doing
Mingi just yells out of no where, “AHHHHHHH”
Yunho just knows that that’s the cue to get tf out of the room but Mingi will continue to push him out of the room
WOOYOUNG
(type: the schemer)
plans everything
whether it be mafia wars or cute dates with you
everything happens for a reason with Mr. Wooyoung
and everything happens in his favor
so you’ll never actually win when you’re with him
what do I mean by this?
he’ll notice that you’re in one of your frisky moods
he’ll loosen you up
make sure to steal a couple of breaths
might exchange saliva; take your gum
rough up your hair
make you all hot and bothered
and then leave
just like that
he’ll leave
San would just be staring at the both of you with dead eyes
“you’re just gonna leave them like that?”
Wooyoung cocks his eyebrows at San, “you wanna do something about it?”
San rubs his palms as he eyes you, still in your ruffled mess, “I mean-”
Wooyoung would pull San by the collar of his jacket, “yeah no”
Wooyoung takes pleasure in seeing you sulk and be all hot and bothered; not being able to do anything until he comes back
JONGHO
(type: the one-who-doesn’t-know-what-he’s-doing-but..)
...BUT he does it with a little TOO much power
this boy does not know how to control his strength yet
so when he does something, like just a casual makeout
it turns into a tornado of mouth action
seriously
someone needs to tell this boy that too much is just.. too much
it’s probably not a bad thing
however he’ll get wayy into it
gets pretty handsy
grunts here and there
goes back and forth from attacking your throat to printing hickies sporadically under your jaw
like Mingi, no one has ever seen you like this
hell, you’re most likely his first
sooo... when Yeosang walks to inform Jongho about his appointment with some “old friends,” he’s in shock
Jongho almost didn’t hear Yeosang’s little gasp
Jongho shoots himself away from you and starts laughing
trying to distract everyone in the room from what just happened
“it’s not what it looks like-”
“so you’re telling me you weren’t just making out with Y/N?”
“yeah, so you’re telling him that you weren’t just making out with me?”
Jongho would be breaking out in a cold sweat, “wait.. what? of course.. I- I gotta get to that appointment yeah? yeah..”
both you and Yeosang would be shaking your heads as Jongho trips over the coffee table as he tries to exit the room
[ masterlist + guidelines ]
#ateez#ateez fluff#ateez fanfic#ateez song mingi#ateez yeosang#ateez wooyoung#ateez writing#ateez reactions#ateez requests#ateez yunho#ateez imagines#ateez oneshot#ateez park seonghwa#ateez au#ateez drabbles#ateez san#ateez smut#ateez scenarios#ateez dark hours#ateez fic#Ateez hongjoong#ateez hard hours#ateez jeong yunho#ateez jung wooyoung#ateez jongho#ateez kim hongjoong#ateez kang yeosang#ateez x reader#ateez x atiny#ateez x you
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Naruhina - Save My Soul -NH2020
For Naruhina2020 March (Bodyguard AU) and April (Celebrity AU)
A/n: Re-posting this long oneshot after major edits. I’d blundered previously when I posted this with huge chunks of old drafts attached at the end, smh. If you have read this story before, please ignore this post.
Rating: Mature
Warning: Modern AU with RTN Hinata and RTN Naruto
-
Hinata knew how some people have fetishes. She never thought she had one. Until that moment.
Wait. Would it still count as a fetish if she found that particular body part extremely sexy and distracting on only one specific person?
Sitting in the back seat of her chauffeur driven customised Maybach, Hyuuga Hinata could not take her eyes off of the large manly hands of her bodyguard who was sitting in the front passenger seat. Her nipples puckered and rubbed against the lace of her bra under the short black dress, as flashes of those very same hands skimming over her body, played through her mind. Especially how his long fingers had pinched and thrust into parts of her anatomy that had made her scream and tremble in toe curling pleasure. Involuntarily, her thighs clenched together at the reminder.
She had to force herself to look away from the man who was absolutely unaware of how his mere presence was wreaking havoc on her mind and body. Not even the constant chatter of her relatively new, chirpy assistant Matsuri, who was sitting right beside her, could pull her thoughts away from the self destructing path she was seemingly on.
Get over it, get over him, she told herself.
Uzumaki Naruto did not want her. He had made it clear. That one particular night, exactly nine days back, had been etched, engraved and embossed into her brain, was supposedly a slip-up on his part. A rare moment of weakness, was how he’d labelled it.
He was her bodyguard. Nothing more, nothing less.
So why did her body yearn for him? Had she imagined the explosive chemistry they had shared in bed? Was she not his type?
The whole world assumed that being a young famous singer-songwriter, she had more men in her life than she could handle. But little did they know that all through her existence, she had been left sorely disappointed by the men who truly meant something to her.
-
As soon as she entered her suite at the hotel, she flung her crystal studded killer heels to the side and made a beeline for the well stocked mini bar.
She had only had a few cocktails at the lavish and exclusive birthday bash of a world renowned, award winning artist, at his sprawling mansion in the outskirts of the city. Usually, she preferred to be in control of her senses at these events. She absolutely hated the idea of other people witnessing her in a weak moment.
It was probably one of the very few traits she had inherited from her now-estranged father. Her already precarious relationship with her only living conservative parent blew into smithereens when she decided to pursue her dreams.
But that topic was a terribly sore spot for her, and she did not even want to think about it. The only thing she wanted was to drink herself to numbness, now that she was back in the security of her room. Just so that, she could stop feeling unwanted and unrequited emotions and just drift off to sleep.
She could hear Naruto stepping inside the suite, but she willed herself to not glance back at him. He would sleep on the sofa bed in the living room like he had done the night before.
He had been hired by her label’s President to protect her. After she had, apparently, irked quite a few psychopathic, batshit crazy fangirls of the famous rockstar Sabaku Gaara. Just because they had casually dated for a few months last winter. They went especially haywire when the man had written an entire song about her and had openly admitted to it in an interview.
Their relationship ended prematurely, but the threats became progressively scarier and outrightly morbid. That’s when Naruto was taken on board from an elite security organization. He was to protect her, accompany her everywhere for the foreseeable future and always stay within reach.
Lucky her.
Hinata picked out a small bottle of red wine on impulse and carried it to her room. She shed down to her lacy underthings and poured out a generous amount of the merlot into a bulbous glass.
Taking it to her ensuite bathroom, she began wiping off her makeup in preparation for bed. The process had become so common for her, she was lost in her musings while doing a perfect job of stripping her face bare.
Refilling her glass again, she lifted it to her lips, when it was snatched away. The harsh tug of Naruto’s fingers made her gasp and spill some wine on her chest. She had not seen him enter her private bathroom.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”, she snapped at him. “You spilled wine on me!”
His gaze flickered to her wet cleavage before he looked away. With his jaws clenched, he poured the drink into the sink and looked at her with a less than pleasant expression.
“You should know better than to drink irresponsibly. Matsuri has already reminded you that you have an early morning meeting with Mr. Senju. The last thing you need is a hangover.”, he uttered those words with a straight face. He tried his best to seem unaffected.
She forced a smile on her face. “I can’t sleep without getting myself drunk. Unless you can think of another way to tire me out. That might just help.”
She was shamelessly coming on to him, but at this point she could care less. Or it was probably just plain ol’ liquid courage.
“Go to bed, and count sheep, for all I care.”, his voice was steady but she could see the inkling of desire in his azure eyes.
She wanted to egg him on, and brought her hands to the front clasp of her bra. “Oh, come on, help me out a bit. Just one more time.”, she was almost playfully begging him now. And she knew she would take whatever he would throw at her. It probably went against feminist ideals, but she was never this weak for another man. She needed him like no one else. Why did he not get that?
“Don’t you want me again?”, she propositioned him and unhooked the wet lace bra to tempt him further.
But before he could get an eyeful for her naked heaving chest, he turned around to walk out of her bathroom. She could only laugh, while her heart squeezed painfully inside at his outright rejection.
“You’re such a pussy!”, she commented mockingly to goade him further.
And lo, behold, it made him stall at the door. His fists were clenched at his sides, but he did not retaliate with words. Just when she felt a sliver of doubt that he would walk away, he swung around and marched over to her, capturing her burgundy stained lips under his hungry ones.
She moaned audibly at the surge of passion in their liplock, it positively made her giddy. His hands pulled and pressed her body against his, before cupping her perky round bottom and lifting her up against him.
Hinata squealed into the kiss at the sudden change of altitude, but she did not dare break away from him. She needed him so badly that she grasped at his short hair desperately to gain leverage and rub her core against his hardening length.
She heard him groan out loudly and then he pulled away from her lightly bruised, swollen lips, as he joined their foreheads and continued what she had started. Holding her from her bottom, he pushed her against the nearest wall and started thrusting upwards for some desperately needed friction. The silk of her panty was really thin and flimsy, and the ridges of his jeans gliding over her most sensitive point was delicious.
“Yes!”, she cried out. “Naruto… Please!! Don’t stop…!!”
Her hoarse pleading made him curse out loud. Abruptly, he her away from the wall. But instead of taking her to the bedroom like she had expected, he stepped into the large glass walled shower.
Unceremoniously, Naruto pulled the tap handle and the shower sprayed them with really cold water. She screamed as the icy water fell on her skin, instantly cutting off the heat of their encounter.
“F*ck! What the hell?!”, she scrambled out of his grip and out from the chill of the water. “What was that for?”
The cold spray had drenched Naruto, by the time he turned the supply off.
“That was me trying to act on the shred of rationality left in me.”, Naruto said seriously while rubbing a hand across his hair. She shivered and wrapped her arm around her naked chest.
“Oh, for f*ck’s sake, do you have to be so rational all the dam* time?!!”, her voice echoed against the walls. “What’s wrong with you??!!”
He slipped out of the shower cubicle and threw the nearest dry bathrobe at her. She quickly pushed her arms through it to cover herself. Doing what he did was humiliating enough, especially after she had literally begged him to take her.
“Call me old fashioned, but I prefer my women sober in bed…”, he replied with a snort.
“Oh just stop with that holier than thou attitude… I’m barely tipsy… You’re the one who’s got his panties in a wad for no reason.”, she let her frustration speak through with zero filter. “Seriously, have you ever let yourself get carried away by your instincts? Instead of being so dam* uptight 24/7?...”
“Oh, I’ve tried it… Look where that got us…”
“You say it as if it was bad for you…”, she followed after him into the bedroom.
“That is beside the point… You, Miss Hinata Hyuuga, are my employer… It is inappropriate for us to sleep together...”
“It’s a little late for worrying about appropriateness, don’t you think?!...”, her voice was laced with sarcasm. “Surely you realise that or have you lost your memories while perched on your moral high horse?”
Naruto gritted his teeth and glared at her with icy blue eyes. “I haven’t forgotten anything… But I have more self respect and pride than repeating my mistake of being your rebound hookup.”
She felt hurt by his accusation. “Is that what you think? A rebound?... Gosh, Naruto... I have been over Gaara for months...”
“Well then, what else is it??”, he demanded.
She was tongue tied by the abruptness of his question. What was it?
She was crazy attracted to him. She cared for him. She wanted him to do unspeakable things to her. She wanted to do similar things back to him. But that was as far as she had thought.
Seeing her speechless, he nodded curtly. “That’s what I thought.”
He moved away from her before her muddled brain could make a sense out of the deviation their conversation had taken. Naruto picked up his wallet, blazer and keycard before walking towards the main door.
“Get some sleep… Please… I will be right outside.”
Hinata could not utter the right words to stop him. Even if she desperately wanted to.
-
By eight o’ clock next morning, Hinata was seated in an upscale rooftop restaurant that was famous for its breakfast menu. Mr. Senju was notorious for being an early riser, and he believed in using as much of the daylight as possible to conduct profitable business.
Clad in a flowy lavender maxi skirt, a white lace crop top and a pair of comfy birkenstocks, Hinata was half heartedly listening to Mr. Senju. Her mirrored sunglasses provided her the perfect ruse to hide her tired eyes and also to frequently glance over at Naruto, who stood a few feet away, where he had the perfect vantage point of the whole setting.
Matsuri sat beside her, jotting down important points that were discussed. By the end of the meal, Hinata had agreed to lend her voice to a character of a big budget animated movie that would be produced by Mr. Senju. Few remaining details would be ironed out by her label before she would sign the contract.
“Then I’ll see you back in the city in two weeks, Miss Hyuuga.”, Mr. Senju shook her hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Have a good day!”
Hinata smiled widely and bid him goodbye.
“Wow… That was definitely worth losing a few hours of sleep…”, Matsuri commented.
Hinata nodded listlessly, and nibbled on the poached eggs. She would have certainly liked Naruto to join her at the table, but he had maintained the cool aloof demeanour from last night. Like they only worked in a professional capacity.
Hinata could not openly make any grand gestures towards him because the restaurant was decently filled with posh clients.
From behind her shades, she had even noticed more than one woman staring in the direction of the tall figure of her bodyguard. And it lit her with jealousy. It was absurd. She had no claim over him, but she wanted to gorge the eyes out of any woman who so much as second glanced at him. Curiously, she had never felt this possessive about any of her past boyfriends. Not even Gaara, who the craziest female fandom their music industry had ever seen.
Speaking of the devil.
Gasps and murmurs filled the air, as Gaara Sabaku waltzed into the establishment like he owned the place, with his manager right behind him. Most patrons were affluent enough to not stumble out of their seats to approach celebrities for an autograph or selfies. But there were quite a few heads turned and much interest shown, when the red haired rockstar made a beeline for her.
“G-G-Gaara!”, she squeaked and flushed uncomfortably. Hinata was amused to see her so flustered. Especially, when she was quite unaffected by the famous actors and singers at last night’s bash.
Hinata got up from her seat to greet her ex-boyfriend.
“Hinata… What a pleasant surprise to see you here…”, Gaara spoke fondly as he engulfed her in his arms.
Hinata was a little taken aback by his enthusiasm, but she let it slide. There was nothing wrong with acknowledging an old friend or acquaintance with a genial hug. But she noticed the way Naruto had become stiff and alert, standing a few feet away from them.
“It’s nice to see you too Gaara… Weird running into you here… What are you doing so far off from the city?”, she asked him casually.
“Same thing as you. I made it to the party a little late last night… My flight got delayed on my way back from Seoul… By the time I got there, you had left…”, he explained.
“Ah, yeah…I was feeling a little tired…”, Hinata replied. She felt a little uncomfortable by Gaara’s attention, so she deviated from their conversation. “Gaara, this is my new assistant Matsuri… Matsuri, this is Gaara… You might know him….”
Gaara nodded at her nonchalantly before focusing back on Hinata. “How long are you here for?”
“Umm… Just for tonight.. We will be driving back to the city tomorrow morning…”
“That’s great! We must have dinner together tonight. Especially when we are both staying at the same hotel.”
Hinata was quite surprised at his invitation. She could see from the corner of her eyes, Naruto got closer to them and stood behind her protectively.
Was he jealous? Or was this a part of his job?
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea Gaara…”
“Come on, it’s just dinner… I won’t try to kiss you or anything… Unless you want to, ofcourse!”
Hinata fixed him with a mocking glare. She had separated from him on amicable terms. He was not keen on her suggestion of breaking up. But as a free spirited musician himself, he loathed the idea of binding her to him against her wishes. So he let her go. Now, even the thought of having dinner plans with him seemed to hold no attraction for her. Deep down, she realised the reason why.
“Haven’t we had enough problems because of our past? Being seen together again in public would be asking for more trouble.”, she tried to reason with him.
“Fine, if that’s your worry. How about you come over to my suite? We can have a private dinner where no one can see us.” Gaara glanced at Naruto and added, “You can even have your guard installed outside my door to keep an eye out for you.”
She really wanted to decline his invitation without seeming rude or uptight. But it seemed a little difficult now, with Gaara being insistent and the eyes of other patrons of the restaurant on the two of them.
She lowered her voice and replied, “How about I think about it and text you back?”
Gaara smirked and nodded. “Okay. Remember, I will be hoping for a yes.”
He flicked her chin lightly, like he used to do when they were back together, and moved towards his reserved table.
With that, Naruto suggested they make a move out. He trailed closer than ever before, and kept a light protective hand on her back while the few paparazzis outside clicked furiously. She wondered if Gaara’s invite had spurred this extra protective and possessive streak in him. The idea of making him even more jealous appealed to her. But she absolutely hated toying with people to play games like that. She wanted him to want her back without any underhanded tricks in play.
Once back inside the car, Matsuri asked incredulously, “You are not seriously thinking about going out with him, are you??”
Hinata rested her head back and watched Naruto for any sign. He did seem a little stiffer than usual, even as he was busily texting someone on his phone.
“Technically, it’s not ‘going out’... More like ‘dining in’... But I haven’t made a decision about it. Yet.”
A full minute later, her phone pinged and she took it out to read the new text message, thinking it might be from Gaara.
‘For your eyes only. Make sure no one is peeking into your phone.’
It was from Naruto. When she raised her head up, she saw Matsuri trying to inconspicuously peek at the text. She understood that Naruto might be trying to communicate with her without Matsuri knowing about their recent past.
“Who was that?”, she asked nonchalantly.
“Uh, no one.”, Hinata lied easily.
Seconds later, another message popped up. This time she was careful about not letting wandering eyes stray over to her phone.
‘I have to warn you about something. But what is most important is for you to NOT panic. Matsuri has a carving knife in her bag. She picked it up from the restaurant. Beware. Do not engage her in any conversation about Gaara. I have alerted the police, we will get you to safety soon. Just keep calm. You will be fine.’
Hinata grew pale as she finished reading the text. Why would Matsuri pick a knife? Slowly, the pieces fit together, and she realised that her new assistant was one of the psychopathic fans of her ex-boyfriend.
“Was that Gaara?”, Matsuri’s suspicious voice broke her trance.
“Umm… No…”, she replied faintly and looked outside the window to hide any signs of distress on her face.
“I think meeting Gaara again would not be good for either of you.”, her assistant kept talking.
If Naruto had not warned her, she would have snapped back at Matsuri and given her a piece of her mind. And that would have been disastrous. She looked to the front and found Naruto looking back at her. He gave her a small reassuring nod.
“If he thinks-“
Naruto interrupted her just as she spoke. “We’re almost here. It will be ideal for both of you to discuss this in the privacy of the suite, while I run a small errand.”
Soon the car stopped, Naruto jogged out to open Hinata’s door.
“You did good. I am here with you, don’t worry.”, he muttered close to her ears.
Hinata felt safe in his presence and she had to stop herself from leaning into him. The trio moved through the hotel lobby that seemed quieter than usual. Matsuri did not suspect a thing, but she raised an eyebrow at him when he joined them in the elevator.
“I thought you had an errand to run.”
Hinata understood that she was trying to get rid of Naruto to confront her in the suite.
“I do. I just need to grab some papers from my suitcase.”, he lied easily.
As soon as they entered the suite, they were confronted by the police who were waiting for them. Matsuri turned vicious when her plan was foiled. She tried attacking Hinata even with so many officials around, but she was easily tackled by Naruto.
“Stay right where you are!!”
Soon, she was handcuffed and dragged away, but she kept hissing and cursing at Hinata.
“B*tches like you don’t deserve any love!! You f*cking wh*re!!!”
Hinata was aghast watching the complete switch in her personality. It was chilling to realise that someone who harboured ill intentions for her was kept close.
Her sight turned blurry as she stood rooted to her spot. Whether they were tears of relief or shock or exasperation, was anyone’s guess.
Naruto dealt with the police officials quickly before he went up to her. Wordlessly, he gathered her in his arms and hugged her tight.
“I don’t know why I am crying… I am not a crybaby…”, her words were muffled by his suit jacket.
“It’s okay… It’s okay to feel the way you do...I’m right here for you.”
But she shook her head and looked up at him. “How did you realise…”
Naruto explained his observation of Matsuri’s expression when Gaara came into the restaurant.
“It was somewhere between shock, awe and fanatical lunacy… And when he kept his attention solely on you, she looked vengeful… Both of you were too busy chatting to notice the stark change in her demeanour…”
“Oh…”, she pondered over the events. “So, that was why you stood close to me… Because of Matsuri… Not because you were jealous?”
Naruto sighed and lifted her face up to him. “I was jealous. Extremely so. But even in that moment your safety was my priority.”
Hinata looped both her arms around his neck. “Oh Naruto….About yesterday-“
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No… Let me say it… When you asked me about what you meant to me… I was unsure of how I could put my feelings into words… It might not be love yet, but you are so much more than a rebound… No, actually let me rephrase that… You are nothing like a rebound… I feel very very strongly for you…Honestly, I always keep thinking of you, my eyes keep looking for you... So much so that I’m afraid it might turn into an obsession.”
He smirked and leaned his forehead towards her. “Are you sure that’s not the after effects of the traumatic event talking?”
She grabbed him by his lapels and mockingly glared at him. “Don’t make fun of my feelings for you. I know what I want. Besides, I would hardly call this encounter traumatic. It was shocking and a little scary, but I can get past it. I’m stronger than you think.”
Naruto nodded and looked away from her gaze. “And you are sure you don’t mind that we have almost nothing in common… I mean, you could do much better than me.”
Hinata rolled her eyes at him, “You sure like doubting yourself for someone with so much pride and self respect.”
He just shrugged, “Just putting it out there… Fair warning… I am not easy to get rid off… So I just want to cover my bases…”
“That’s strange…”, she replied with a frown. “I was going to give you the same warning.”
“There’s one thing common between us then.”, he commented before asking. “Shall we seal the deal with a kiss?”
“Only a kiss??”
-
Over the next few days, Naruto and Hinata received several phone calls informing him about the development of the case against Matsuri. She had confessed to all accounts of threats and intention to harm but pleaded not guilty citing mental instability.
x
Note: Apologies for the very late entry. And also I would like to apologise to fans of Matsuri, she was portrayed negatively in this story, but I assure I have nothing against her! If anything, I like to feature her as Hinata’s friend in a lot of ny other stories.
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Bluegrass-Chapter 24
Much love to @Statell for making my stories flow.
Previous chapter on AO3
Chapter Twenty-Four
The shop owner bent over his worktable and pried the stones out of the gold setting. The ring was fourteen karat gold and would fetch a nice price. When the bell above the door tinkled, he looked up at a lady coming to the counter. She tossed a large ring on the counter.
“Sell or pawn?”
“Sell.”
He looked at her and reached for his loop. She looked like a street person so how did she come by this, he wondered. To his amazement the diamonds were real, and the gold tested to eighteen karat. His heart was ramming.
“Who’d you steal this from lady?”
“It’s mine, you ignorant asshole.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you. Try down the street.”
She grabbed the ring and looked at the man with her one good eye. “Fuck you.”
He watched her carry her bulk toward the door and waved his hand in the air to chase away her body odor.
The woman tried two more pawn shops and the third was owned by someone with fewer scruples. He bought the ring for one thousand dollars plus a gun. It was a lady Smith and Wesson five-shooter. She grabbed a box of shells on her way out, looking at the man defiantly. He ran to lock his door and start making calls. This ring would sell quickly for ten thousand. If it wasn’t hot, he could ask fifty thousand easily. He flipped open his phone book and started dialing.
The sweaty woman stumbled into Walmart and felt the cool air inside provide a little more energy for the last item she needed. Twenty minutes later she held her new phone to her ear and ordered a taxi to take her to the Motel 6. She paid the driver without a tip and heaved herself out of the car. There were working girls and ugly people all around the place. She would fit right in.
Walking up to the desk, she pulled her shirt down over the roll of fat that bulged from her tight waistband. The clothes she was arrested in were now three sizes too small. Prison food is created to keep hundreds of people full for a few hours. Not much thought went into the caloric intake or a balanced meal. Carbohydrates and fat were the main ingredients of her diet for eleven months and she tipped the scale at two-hundred and fifty pounds. The clothes she wore were donated by the prison and they were cutting her in half.
Pulling her coach wallet out of her bag she pulled her license and scooted it toward the clerk. Ten minutes later she was locking her door and scowling at the traffic noise right outside her window. It would have to do.
She was exhausted. It took all night to get processed out of jail and then shown the door to freedom at five o’clock in the morning. She would sleep a bit and then call her father. He will want her to come home because there was nothing for her in Kentucky. He would put her mother on the phone who would beg and cry for her daughter to come back to Scotland. That could wait as well, she decided.
For eleven months she has thought of little else then Jamie Fraser, the man who stole millions of dollars from her by denying her any rights to the business or his new horse. Word went around the prison that Midnight Runner won the Triple Crown and that meant an extraordinary life was now his to live while she was shipped back to Scotland like yesterday’s trash. God she hated him.
Isobel laid down on the bed but thinking about Jamie got her so riled up she couldn’t sleep. Maybe a hot shower would help. The rundown hotel had a small mirror in the bathroom, the first clear mirror in eleven months. She looked at her face and tears rolled down her fat cheeks. One of her eyelids opened only a slit after she was punched in the forehead during a prison fight. The nerve damage was permanent. She looked at her hair cut almost to her scalp. A going-away present from the bitches who hated her and kept her in solitary much of the time. She recalled being held on the ground while the meanest of them cut off her hair. It stuck out in all directions and she tried to smooth it down with water, but nothing helped. She was raging inside at what he did to her. This was all his fault.
Isobel’s father kept money on her books, the maximum allowable at the insistence of her mother. Isobel had nothing but disdain for other women making it quite impossible to make friends who could help her. She bargained her commissary for favors and finally found someone with a relative who would look up Chad’s whereabouts. He was in the Kentucky State Penitentiary in Eddyville and she wrote to him every day and couldn’t wait to hear back. Months went by with no word and she became hurt, and then mad. She sent another letter and on the outside of the envelope in small letters, she wrote “you little puke of a man why won’t you answer me?” She didn’t expect a response and when one came it was short and to the point.
‘Enduring your disgusting presence and vomit worthy sex was a means to an end. You self-absorbed cow. You never figured out I was gay because you were busy looking at yourself, with or without a mirror. It made it easy to manipulate you. Happy now?’
That was Jamie’s fault as well, she stormed in her head. He deserves to be skinned alive and forced to watch. She wouldn’t risk him getting the upper hand, so she had to settle for a bullet in his head.
She picked up her purse and left. There was a liquor store on the corner and she needed whisky, and a lot of it.
Claire woke up in an empty bed and noticed a note on her side table. She smiled as she read it.
“It is a perfect day to sit on the sundeck and read. There is nothin you need to do today, and I won’t be long with Michael.”
They had purchased a new double-wide ergonomic chase and had not tried it out yet. Maybe they could read the book together. While she waited for Jamie, she chose pages throughout the book to read and was very impressed with Michael’s writing. The theme running throughout the book was about kindness to the horse through various means, particularly the whip. He advocated the elimination of pain as a motivator. It would change horse racing completely because the competitors would be running because they wanted to win. The horse had to love running and it could be done, according to Michael, but training and reward had to change.
Claire wondered how this book would differ from Nosh’s. He was coming to Kentucky the following week and would spend the day with them. She was excited to fulfill her promise to finish her story, whether he believed her or not.
Jamie dropped Michael at his hotel just after noon. He would be joining them for dinner tonight and would UBER back around seven o’clock. Jamie looked forward to an afternoon lounging with his best girl.
For the rest of the day, Jamie and Claire took turns reading the book and powered through half of it before cuddling on the chase to nap a bit.
“Sassenach.” Jamie ran his hand down her arm until she opened her eyes. “Will ye come with me to bring the horses in?”
She smiled up at him and nodded yes before pulling her jeans and boots on. They walked to the barn and discussed the book, both commenting on how much they had forgotten about those crazy days. They brought fifteen horses in, two at a time, then went to bring in the mares and babies. Claire laughed at the antics of the foals, running ahead and then freezing with fear when they couldn’t see their mothers. When all were put away for the night, they made one more trip for Runner and Porcelain. When Jamie watched them running to the gate, he looked at Claire with a big smile.
“I’d like to bring Porcelain into season early and breed her in February.”
“To him?”
It was settled. Porcelain would be Runner’s first cover and Claire was thrilled. A touch of romance in an otherwise clinical setting of the breeding room. They would be each other’s first.
As they walked home, Jamie threw up his arms and announced he had finished the repairs on Runner’s stall, and they could move them back to their larger accommodations. Claire held his hand and told him tomorrow would be soon enough. She had a shower and cooking to do.
It was a delightful time to sit with their old friend, spoil him with steak, roasted vegetables, and copious amounts of whisky. Claire considered inviting others to dinner but decided she didn’t want to share Michael’s time. They ate at the table outside and simply moved to more comfortable seats to continue the discussion.
Jamie answered the doorbell and spoke to a neighbor before announcing he would be back in ten minutes. The neighbor needed a jump. Michael offered to come and help but Jamie told him to relax, he had this.
Michael had Claire in giggle overload reminding her of times they were on the road. Claire got up to grab the coffee pot and stopped in her tracks.
“Michael, do you smell something burning.”
He stood up and said he smelled it too. When Claire opened the front door, she screamed for Michael. It was definitely a fire and somewhere close. They started running and a quarter-mile never seemed so far. The closer they got; they were more convinced it was the barn on fire. Claire punched numbers into the keypad, and Michael opened the roll away doors as smoke poured out.
“Chase them all out, Michael!”
Claire ran down the aisle pulling stall doors open until she got to Runner and Porcelain and they were not moving. None of the horses were running outside. She slapped Porcelain hard on the rump knowing Runner would follow. The mare whinnied loudly and took off for the big doors.
Claire looked at the smoke filling the barn and coughed into her shirt. She saw horses running by but could not see Michael. She continued to work her way down the aisle smacking horses so they would run to safety. She looked up and saw babies running alongside their mothers and knew Michael had gone to the dams’ wing to set them free.
Jamie waved to the neighbor as he drove down their shared road. He caught the scent of burning wood and jumped into the bed of his truck to look for smoke. Finally, he saw the embers rising into the air on his own property! With a hammering heart, he drove through the gate and saw horses scattered all over. He knew someone was at the barn and drove as fast as possible, ever watchful for a horse running across the road.
Jamie ran to the barn. His heart rate was in the stroke zone and he started coughing the second he was inside. He called for Claire as he ran down the aisle looking for any stuck horses. The dams’ wing was empty, where the hell was Claire and Michael? Or whoever let the horses out. He turned the turbines on that pulled air from the interior. They were all over the roof so he ran as fast as he could flipping them on high.
He called the fire department as he ran for Runner’s wing. The door was open and something inside him told him to proceed with caution. He could hear Claire and Michael coughing. Why were they in there? When he heard Isobel’s voice his blood turned to ice. He forced himself not to cough and give away his presence. He searched frantically for a way to get the drop on her. He had to do something before Claire and Michael died from asphyxiation.
He ran to the back of the barn where the smoke was too thick to see. He ran his hand along the wall until he felt the switches for the turbines. Filling his lungs with air he ran into the equipment room and pulled out a ten-foot length of steel pipe, very relieved it wasn’t burning hot and ran back.
Claire wasn’t coughing any more and Jamie knew she passed out with death coming for her. Without another second to think he rammed the door open and kept running as Isobel’s startled face came into view. She raised the gun just as he rammed the pipe into her stomach, impaling her on the back wall. He threw Claire over his shoulder and helped Michael to his feet pulling them outside to safety.
The fire engines were coming in slowly with no siren because Jamie explained there were horses scattered all over the property. Michael was bent over coughing and Claire was silent, unconscious. Jamie lowered her to the ground feeling more terrified than he had been in his life.
“Claire! Claire!”
The EMT’s pulled him away to render lifesaving aid to his wife, his soulmate, his whole world. Fire hydrants were installed on the land according to zoning rules and the men soon had two flows of water directed at the fire. Jamie heard more sirens coming only to go silent as they negotiated the gate and keypad.
The ambulance EMT’s were given instructions to open the gate and wait for it to close to make sure no horses escaped. The driver knew there were critical injuries and it took all his training and willpower not to barrel ahead to the injured. Jamie was covered with soot and sweat as he gripped his wife’s hand.
“Please Claire, ye must fight yer way back to me or I will surely die with ye.”
He was pulled away as they wheeled the gurney into the ambulance, Michael was loaded into a second vehicle. Jamie sank to his knees as a great crash came from the barn and a plume of embers rose into the night sky. Jamie didn’t flinch. He couldn’t move as he was locked into his pleading prayers to God.
A great fireball exploded into the dark sky and men were yelling about a secondary fire. Jamie heard none of it and continued to pray.
The captain pulled Jamie up and brought him under the light spreading out a schematic of the barn interior.
“Is there anyone else in the building?”
Jamie pointed to Runner’s wing. The fire captain pulled him to the large engine and told him to sit down. The huge fire engines took up all the space available in front of the barn and police cruisers were lined up behind them. Officers were standing by a short distance away and the captain went to speak with them.
Jamie felt the tears fall off his face, he knew his business was in ruins, his prize horse chased into the darkness, but none of that mattered as much as Claire’s pale, soot-stained face. He looked up at the commanding voice above him and stared at the officer with blank eyes.
“You identified an area where someone was left inside. I am sorry to inform you that the roof caved in above that wing about five minutes ago. Did anyone go back inside to pull the person out?”
“No. I impaled her against the wall with a ten-foot length of steel pipe.”
Jamie stood up and walked toward his vehicle but never made it. It took five officers to hold him back and he was finally cuffed and dropped into a cruiser. He had no comprehension of what was happening, and he fought against the restraints until he felt a blinding pain as his wrist separated. He slumped forward choking through this added suffering.
“Mister Fraser! Stop struggling I have news of your wife. She is in intensive care, so is the other man, but they are expected to pull through. They are gonna be fine. You have confessed to a capital crime. You belong to the Lexington police force now so you might as well cooperate and sit still. You’re a big man and tasers hurt, so walk when you’re told, sit where you’re told and answer our questions. It’s the best advice I can give you.”
Jamie did as told and explained who Isobel was, how she tried to kill his horses before. He did not know she was released on parole. She had set fire to the barn and held Claire and Michael at gunpoint as they slowly choked to death in front of her. She wore an elaborate gas mask and just stood by as they struggled to breathe. She had raised her gun to Jamie’s head as he rammed the pipe into her stomach. He did not bother to go back in to save her because he was too busy with his wife and friend.
“I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. I didn’t care.”
Jamie was a pillar of the community and the officers made quick work of releasing him with the warning to not leave the state. There was an officer waiting to take him to the hospital. Jamie sat in the back seat holding his throbbing wrist. The officer decided to break the rules for the poor man and turned on his siren as he raced to the hospital.
Jamie piled out of the car and ran into the emergency department. He approached Claire slowly with tears streaking through the grime on his face. He was so overcome at the sight of her his whole body started to shake.
The nurse taking her blood pressure almost fainted at the sight of Jamie but recovered quickly as his face softened looking at his wife.
“She has been asking for you if your name is Jamie that is.” She had a warm smile and a concerned face.
“It is… my name is Jamie.”
The nurse ran for the chair that was shared among the visitors because it looked like he would fall any minute. She pushed Jamie into it and asked if he was alright.
“As soon as this lass opens her eyes, I will be fine.”
“She is doing really well physically. Her doctor may keep her tonight, not sure yet.”
Jamie looked down at Claire’s open eyes, looking at him. She seemed to look at everything she could see and then he watched her dissolve in tears. She was fighting to stop crying but she just couldn’t. She tried to speak to him, but no sound came out.
“Her voice will come back. Two or three days.”
Claire was asleep again and Jamie felt lost suddenly. She just closed her eyes to the pain that was making her cry, leaving Jamie alone. He picked up the phone and called Jason, then Angus. He knew he had to leave her and get back to what was left of their barn. He kissed her face and walked toward the entrance, there lingering at the doorway was the officer who drove him to the hospital.
“Mister Fraser, I waited to take you home, sir.”
Jamie looked battle-scarred and fatigued at the moment, so they headed for his home without further comment. The fire was out, and firemen continued to crawl through the haylofts and roof structure looking for live embers. They had done an excellent job limiting the damage. The fire marshal approached Jaime and shook his hand. His voice was commanding yet tempered with understanding that Jamie appreciated.
“Mister Fraser, it’s a tragedy to be sure, but we minimized the damage and found all the clues, I think. The fire was set on the north-facing side, right here.” He pointed to Runner’s wing on the barn schematic. Gasoline was used as an accelerant that was provided by your fuel tower. The perpetrator used your five-gallon buckets that were stacked at the hose in back, filled them with your fuel, and left the nozzle open to drain the fuel into the ground. When embers landed there it all went up in a fireball. You will have an ugly reminder for a while I’m afraid. It’s safe to bring the horses in except for this area. The roof caved in and it’s burned badly. It is where we found the body of a woman, but I hear you have given a statement to the police already and believe her to be responsible. The coroner has removed the body. I will be in touch as the investigation progresses. He walked toward his vehicle throwing his clipboard on the seat before getting in.
Jamie looked around feeling lost until he saw Rupert and Angus walk out of the barn with two leads each and lariats attached to their belt loops. They looked at Jamie’s haunted eyes and simply nodded as they made their way to the pastures. The horses were tied to a fence once caught so they could be identified and counted. Jason and Lulu pulled up looking shell shocked. Lulu was crying and asking about Claire. Jason ran to the barn for halters and leads and handed a lead to Lulu as they left to search for more horses.
Molly and her fiancé were next, followed by two of the vets that Claire had befriended. They would check the horses that were brought in and treat any issues. As word spread, neighbors and owners came in to join the search and by afternoon, all but two horses had been rounded up. The missing horses, Porcelain and Runner.
The horses were split up into groups and led to graze in the multiple pastures. They would stay outside for the day and let the barn air out. Jamie continued to call Claire, to say I love you and give progress reports. Jamie’s voice cracked when he said they had not found Runner or Porcelain and Claire sobbed for the lost horses but mostly for Jamie. Michael had fared better and was released to rest in his hotel room. Jamie wandered through the pastures calling for Runner until dark.
Jamie stayed with Claire overnight. She was moved out of critical care and there was a fat Lazyboy right next to the bed. He had full trust in his crew, so he stayed until she was released the next day. She mostly cried when she was awake, and Jamie couldn’t wait until he could hold her and give her comfort.
Driving into the compound was very hard on Claire as visions of Isobel taunting her, saying she would shoot Jamie in front of her and then let them die, came back to haunt her. Jamie explained that he had killed Isobel, but Claire expected her to jump out from every corner.
Claire couldn’t yell for Runner, but she insisted on walking the far pastures to help look for him. To no avail, the two of them were gone. Jamie held Claire through the night, waking up every few hours because she was crying and shaking. He eased her back to sleep much quicker than he was able to follow her. By the next day, he had deep circles under his eyes as he drove the property in search of his horses.
The other horses were returned to the barn, back in their original stalls because there was very little damage to anything but Runner’s wing. Jamie shivered to think he wanted to go back to the barn and move Runner and Porcelain back to their original stalls. He closed the wing off with plans to rebuild once the insurance was settled. Not one of the owners moved their horse to another barn. They knew Jamie was honest and ethical. This was not his fault and he had taken care of the problem.
Jamie sat down hard on his office chair in the early evening. The silence was such a relief after playing hero for the past two days. He wasn’t a hero. He was terrified about what could have happened and what will happen next. Could his business recover, could Claire feel safe again, could they find a new normal without Runner? Picking up his ringing phone he heard the deep voice of Dunsany, and he lost it.
“Jamie, it's going to be alright. You aren’t hurt, you will repair the damage and go on. Now listen to me son, get it out, and then get back to work. That’s a good lad, I’m here for ye, depend on that.”
Dunsany waited, speaking quietly to encourage Jamie, trying to infuse him with the will to start over. They talked for almost an hour and Dunsany told him arrangements had been made to bring Isobel’s body back to Scotland. She could never threaten them again. The older man worried deeply about Jamie pulling out of this nightmare and his anger at Isobel kept him secluded from his family for several days. It wasn’t right for a father to hate his own daughter and he would keep that to himself.
Jamie walked the pastures as the sun was coming up. He had a distinctive whistle that all the horses were used to. It always brought them in, no matter how far they had roamed. He heard a whinny and turned his head, heart beating like thunder in his chest he watched the pasture turning in all directions and finally saw her. Porcelain ran toward him crying out her fear in loud whinnies. She came to him and snorted while he slipped the halter on her and snapped a lead. He started walking back expecting Runner to run up on them any second. When he closed the door to Porcelain’s stall, he dropped his head in defeat.
“Where have ye gone laddie?”
Jason, Lulu, Rupert and Angus put the barn back together, ordered supplies, rented stalls, answered calls from worried owners, and assisted whoever and whatever was needed in the moment. Their fearless leader searched for Runner day and night and Claire was not often seen. She looked shattered and they didn’t know how to approach her, so they didn’t.
Michael came on the fourth day and took Claire to drive the property boundaries. Claire searched the pastures through field glasses as they continued to drive for two hours. He was just gone. He jumped a fence and just kept running she assumed. There were thousands of acres of forest that bordered their land and he was lost in that forest somewhere, starving to death. Claire’s sobbing broke Michael’s heart. He stopped the car and pulled her out to hold her to him. He promised her they would find him.
“We need to walk the land, Claire. He’s scared and hiding somewhere in the trees. Let him see us walking.” He pushed a lead in her hand, and they ducked between the white slats of the fence to walk the endless acres of Bluegrass.
Runner watched them from behind the trees. He watched her mostly and wanted to go to her. He could hear in her yell, something foreboding and fearful. If she would just get on his back, he could ride her to safety. He tried a couple of times to break out of the tree line, only to retreat in fear. They were getting closer to him. He was about to turn toward the forest and run but he saw images in his mind of Claire hugging him. It made him so happy. She was telling him she needed a hug. In the next second, he bolted toward the fence boundary and jumped it with ease running toward her, happier than he had ever been.
“Stop Claire. Turn around.”
Claire turned to see Runner galloping toward them. She started to giggle and then she held her arms out like she always did, for him to run into. He stopped ten feet from her and showed her images of being hugged. She kept her arms out and walked to him until she could wrap them around his neck. She put her hands on his cheeks and Michael could swear they were having a conversation as Runner would nicker at times and drop his head on her shoulder.
Are you hurt?
I do not hurt.
Where you afraid?
I was afraid.
She kissed his face a dozen times and asked him to walk back to the barn, assuring him the smoke was gone and he would be safe. She dug a handful of sugar cubes out of her pocket and he feasted on them.
Very hungry.
Let’s go home.
Michael called Jamie to tell him they were walking back, with Runner, and he started running to meet them. Runner nickered and lifted his head when he saw Jamie running toward them. Claire unsnapped the lead and Runner took off stopping right in front of Jamie’s beaming smile. They were still hugging when Claire and Michael caught up to them.
Porcelain whinnied loudly in the air and stomped all over her stall. Rupert looked at her and wondered what got into the lass when he saw the movement in his peripheral vision. He was almost in tears when he saw the three of them with a giant black horse behind them. Runner went to Porcelain for a make-out session and Claire could see images of Rupert pouring grain into his feeder. She laughed quietly to herself.
“Cheeky bastard.”
They said goodbye to Michael at the airport and made him promise to visit soon. Claire hugged him and cried while Michael complained she would surely melt with any more tears. Once on the road home, Claire leaned against Jamie and wrapped her arm around his middle. They had not made love since the fire and the feel of him was suddenly intoxicating. She kissed his neck until she was breathless and when she pulled his belt away and grabbed his zipper Jamie pulled onto a logging road into the forest where he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.
They were frantic to join their hungry bodies after a long hiatus from passion. Jamie pulled her shirt over her head and reached around to unclasp her bra setting her breasts free to bounce with their efforts. When she finally pulled him into her body, they both moaned loudly before the rhythm of arousal took them to a new plane of existence.
Officer Josh Baker was heading back to the station while he daydreamed in heavy traffic. When he saw Jamie’s pickup truck veer off the road, he shook his head and blinked several times. It couldn’t be, he told himself. What are the odds of finding them in the same predicament as before? Some people never learn he thought. He pulled off onto the logging road to wait.
Traffic along the four lanes where Jamie took the detour slowed way down due to the cruiser parked along the side of the road, presumably for radar speed checking. The officer pointed his radar gun out the window and waited. When he heard Jamie’s engine start he pulled into traffic, and they were none the wiser about his protection.
Slowly, life at Highland Brothers returned to normal and Jason, the new custodian of Claire's truck, would pick her up for a day of medical treatments and do his best to remember any of the details when she asked him. On long rides she would describe the lab assays they would run to get him used to the terminology and procedure. From February to June, she would reduce her hours away to ten hours per week so she could take care of the breeding operation. She was anxious to be working with Jamie again.
Claire sat across from Nosh at the kitchen table and looked at the sheets of pictures. There had to be at least five-hundred pictures of her and runner. She answered Nosh’s questions thoughtfully and held nothing back. Nosh recovered quickly from the declaration that she can talk to animals. He always knew there was a major component of the story missing.
“I have wondered how an untrained jockey could ride that horse through all those races.”
“It was my yoga training. My balance was very good and if you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t move at all, once the race started, I just hung on to is mane for dear life. He told me what to do, when to do it, and I felt safe after a while.”
“How could he hear you during the race, there’s too much noise?”
“Are you saying you believe me?”
“You are an educated woman Claire, a veterinarian, and you won the Triple Crown as a novice jockey. I’ve been on the track all my adult life, so I knew there was a secret to your success. What I wouldn’t give for photo evidence of you racing him on foot.”
“Oh! I have photo evidence. Jamie took loads of pictures from the equipment barn where he hid for the first month. They are amateur at best, but I will be happy to show you..”
Nosh was on his feet in seconds, “please, yes I would love to see them.”
Claire settled Nosh in a chair close to the computer monitor and brought up the pictures. There was a perfect sequence of them at the starting line, Claire running full speed around the track, and Runner staying on the rail to pass her. Claire bent over panting and Runner circling her with his head and tail in the air. In the last picture, Claire is scowling at the horse with her hands in the air.
Nosh laughed so hard and sputtered “pure gold!” when he could catch a breath. “Good God, I haven’t laughed like that since I was a kid. Name your price, I’m sure the magazine will pay it.”
“Certainly not! You can have them with my thanks.”
This was the icing on the cake to Nosh. The book he had dreamed of for the last year would be better than he could have imagined.
Claire told Nosh everything from cutting Runner out of his dam to winning the Triple Crown and all the baiting and psychological tricks she used to keep him wanting to win. The story was told, and she sat back and took a deep breath.
“How would you like to spend some time with Runner?”
They walked out to the pasture and the two horses made a bee-line for them. Claire stood in front of Nosh and opened her arms for two frothy-mouthed horses to assault her with smells and snorts. She stepped aside pulling her phone out of her pocket and launching the camera app. Nosh seemed frozen as he watched Runner come toward him. Claire moved farther away and started snapping pictures. Nosh, nose to nose with Runner, the colt draping his head over Nosh’s shoulder from behind, stroking his neck, laughing at the assault on his pockets looking for treats. Claire kept snapping until she had sixty-five pictures of Nosh and Runner. She would transfer all the pictures of Runner including these to a thumb drive and send it to Nosh. It made her happy inside to give something back.
Claire walked the reporter out to his rental car and hugged him, thanking him for everything. Nosh saw no reason they might meet again so he made his words count.
“You feel like the daughter I never had. I am so proud of what you’ve done. If your actions with Runner are any indication of motherhood, I hope to live long enough to see your kids cure cancer and win the Nobel prize. Goodbye Claire, and thank you for the interview.”
Motherhood? What an odd thing to say, she decided and waved goodbye.
Claire walked back into the house feeling her mood turn dark when she looked at the ugly furniture she and Jamie had failed to replace. She wished for a happy feeling when she opened the door to their home and hated this furniture even more after the fire. A call to the Salvation Army to pick up a high-end living room set pushed her to the front of the line. They would pick it up this afternoon. When the living room was empty, she called Jamie and asked if he could finish early because there wasn’t a chair or couch to sit on anymore. They needed to visit the furniture stores in town.
Claire got dressed up with straight hair and makeup because it felt like a special trip, something to be remembered. They would finally take ownership of their space and rid the memory of the most heinous woman on earth. With only one week until Christmas, she was excited.
Jamie watched a beautiful, confident woman walk toward him when he came home. He looked at her long pretty hair, short dress, and high heels, feeling his stomach do flips.
“Yer beautiful Sassenach, and our living room is empty sure enough.”
“You have ten minutes James Fraser.”
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Friend with the enemy - Chapter 2: Smile for me
Chapter 1 - the pretty boy | Masterlist | Chapter 3 - An unfortunate reunion
Chapter: 2/4 | Oikawa x reader
Words: 2.563
Warning: fluff, angst
(y/n) = your name | (l/n) = last name | (e/c) = eye colour | (h/c) = hair colour
The next few days are flying by and before you know it’s Monday afternoon. You tell Ushijima that you’re meeting a friend and that he should eat without you tonight. He just crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Just a friend. Sure. Have fun, but don’t be late. After all, tomorrow is a school day, and we have to get up early." he says seriously before he says goodbye to you.
Arrived at Aobajohsai, Oikawa is already waiting for you with his hands in his pockets. When he sees you, he waves to you and comes to meet you. “Hello (y/n)-chan, I’m really looking forward to seeing you again." He laughs friendly and scratches his neck. “Hello Tooru, nice to meet you." You answer him briefly but kindly.
For a short moment, you both look deep into each other’s eyes and remain silent. You don’t know why, but you’re so nervous all of a sudden, and you feel your heart beating out loud. Oikawas smile is simply seductive. Hold on... (y/n) what do you think right now? You ask yourself and shake your head. “Shall we go?” you ask with a high voice and are surprised by your voice. Nodding, he moves and you follow him.
Once at the fair, you’ll see lots of stalls, colorful lights, a lot of people and an incredible amount of smells that drive your hunger. “Mmmh here it smells really good like fresh milk bun." You mumble to yourself. “Huh? Are you hungry? Do you want a milk bun?" He’s looking at you. Hardly noticeable you nod embarrassed and look to the ground.
“Come on." now you hear his voice and feel his grip on your arm. He pulls you behind him towards the bun stand and greets the seller, who smiles at you with a strange look. Is that supposed to be seductive or something? It’s disgusting, you think.
In Oikawas corner of the eye, he recognizes your slightly disgusted look at the man and the man’s eyes on you don’t escape Oikawa either. “I’d like two milk bins. One with chocolate and the other..." Oikawa pulls you to your waist and makes you look into his eyes. “What do you want, my love?" he asks you with a narrow grin.
“A- Also with chocolate." You answer quietly. What in the world has gotten into him? You ask yourself before he lets you go again. “You heard my love. Then two milk buns with chocolate." Demanding he looks at the seller who now fiercely reaches for the chocolate-filled milk buns and holds them against you. Oikawa puts the money on the counter and hands you one of the buns. "Fits like that." he says arrogantly and turns around with you in his arm.
“Tooru, what was that all about?" you’re asking all confused as he pretends like nothing happened. “What do you mean? The guy tried to eat you from top to bottom with his eyes. I just wanted to make it clear to him not to look at you. Because you do not belong to him." Now with a serious voice he bites into his bun and looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“I don’t belong to you either!" you yell at him. But somehow you thought it was sweet of him. “Yeah, but that’s not what I was saying... I... I'm sorry (y/n). I’ll make it up to you. Come on!” Weeping, he grabs your hand again and pulls you behind him.
What’s he up to now? He stops in front of a score and looks around. “What is the best prize you can win here?" Almost energetically he asks the man who works at this stand. “Eh... So the teddy bear here is our biggest and most expensive prize. But for him, you'd have to knock down five times, all ten cans. But you only have two attempts per pyramid." He stutters uncertainly before himself.
“Give me the balls!" he calls now still more resolutely and you consider briefly whether you should stop him from his plan, however, notice fast that it would not accomplish anything. With the ball in his hand, he breathes in and out completely concentrated. He’s completely changed from now on. And even before you can pronounce 'Teddy Bear', he has already brought down all five pyramids with only one stroke per pyramid.
With big eyes and open mouths, the staff and you stand in front of Oikawa and look at him speechless. “The teddy bear I would like to have." he says surprisingly calmly and the employee hands it over to him without comment. “Do you forgive me, (y/n)?" He looks at you with puppy eyes. How could you say no here? Especially since you weren’t mad at him. Smiling, you take the bear and thank him.
You guys keep moving. You with your big bear in your hands and Oikawa with two more milk buns he took. It’s dark by now, but you still have your fun. In front of a Ferris wheel you stop and look at the top cabin. “Do you want to ride the Ferris wheel?" Oikawa looks over to you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never been on a Ferris wheel. “Mhm..." you nod embarrassed and go to the Ferris wheel.
Just before you want to climb into an open cabin, the man on the Ferris wheel tells you that you can’t take the bear with you, but he keeps it for you in the small ticket office until you come out. You are now sitting next to each other in a cabin and the rails that are in front of you are automatically folded down.
Briefly you twitch together, but are calmed by a warm hand on your shoulder and a quiet smile from Oikawa. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I'm right here.” He whispers quietly to you and the Ferris wheel moves. Having arrived at the highest point of the Ferris wheel, the Ferris wheel suddenly stops.
“T... Tooru?” Panic you look in his direction and grip the rail that is close to your bodies. ’Please remain calm. We’ve got a power outage on the Ferris wheel. Our security staff are on their way to fix the problem. Nothing can happen to you. We apologize for the inconvenience.’ You hear a man talking in a megaphone.
“Damn..." Oikawa sighs. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be all right. Let’s do something nice. Look, there’s a bright star over there. Doesn’t he look beautiful?" he’s trying to calm you down. Still a little anxious you look forward and see a very bright star in the starry sky.
“Yes... really nice...” you stutter quietly and try to move as little as possible. Oikawa realizes that you are still afraid and thinks about how he can change that. “Did you know... When I was little, I was very afraid of injections. I started crying three days before. But don’t tell anyone." Embarrassed he looks at you and notices how your facial features relax. Oikawa is really afraid of injections? Such a tall man? You don’t know why, but it makes you feel better that even Tooru Oikawa, who seems perfect in everything, is afraid of something.
Without wanting it, you start laughing. You don’t laugh at him. No, it’s a happy laugh, and now Oikawa is looking at you with his eyes wide open. His amazement makes you look at him too. “You... You are really beautiful when you laugh (y/n)” still astonished but also serious he speaks softly and you fall silent.
You notice how your cheeks turn red and your heart starts beating wildly. Oikawa doesn’t say anything anymore but just looks at you. With his left hand he approaches your face and caresses your cheeks, then pulls your face a bit up by putting his hand, which was still on your cheek earlier, under your chin and pushing it up. He looks deep into your (e/c) eyes.
“I'm sorry. You're also beautiful without a smile on your face (y/n)." He whispers softly and his face comes dangerously close to yours. You can already feel his warm breath on your skin when suddenly the Ferris wheel shakes. You both twitch together and the Ferris wheel starts to move again. Did Oikawa... just wanted to kiss you?
You keep quiet until you get down there and the co-worker puts your big teddy bear in your hands again. “It is already late. Should I take you home now?" Oikawa asks you smiling and calm as if nothing had happened. A little confused, you just nod when you two head home.
All the way you talk like two old friends, however, you both behave differently than before. Somehow the mood is tense. When you get home, you stand in front of your front door and get your key out. “Thanks for the nice evening Tooru." With a smile you look up to him.
“I have to thank you... I had a really nice time with you. I hope we can repeat that soon?" his voice is so soft and calm. Not like your heart. “Yes! Gladly!" You respond too enthusiastically and put your hands in front of your mouth.
Giggling, he leans over to you. "Good night (y/n). Sleep well.” he whispers softly and gives you a kiss on the cheek. Without looking at you again, he turns and leaves. Your body feels weird. You feel so weird. You can’t get a clear thought when the door opens behind you.
“You’re a little late." You hear Ushijimas voice behind you. You look at your watch to make sure what time it is, when you find out that it’s already past midnight. “I'm so sorry Toshi. I forgot all about the time." You apologize and want to go in with the bear in your hands just as Ushijima takes it away from you.
“Take a shower and get ready for your bed. I’ll take the teddy bear to your room." A friendly smile draws his face. “You certainly didn’t get it from your friend?" he says ironically. “Eh... Anyway, I’ll take a shower... See you tomorrow then." you answer embarrassed and disappear quickly in the bathroom.
-
You spend a lot of time with Oikawa over the next few weeks. You always come very close to each other but you are interrupted again and again by others and again there is a oppressive silence afterwards. Since this constant back and forth becomes too stupid for you, you decide to ask Oikawa if he sees more than just a friend in you. He is somewhat perplexed in front of you and does not know exactly what to say when his cell phone rings. It is his coach who asks him for extra training. He says goodbye to you quickly and tells you that he will call you later and then you can talk.
However, this does not happen.
“Pf... what's going on Oikawa... I’m going to knock on your stupid door until you finally open it, you idiot." You murmur grimly to yourself. With rage, you stomp to Oikawas apartment and want to ask him why he’s been ignoring you for two days. But when you arrive in front of his apartment, your anger turns into sadness and disappointment.
“Tooru?” you ask unsettled, with a shaky voice as your wide open eyes look at him. You see Oikawa standing before you. However, he is not alone. He’s with a young woman and not just that. They just kissed each other.
Frightened to hear your voice, Oikawa turns away from the woman and looks with big eyes in your direction. “(y/n)!” He still calls, but your eyes already begin to become glassy and you start to cry.
How could you think Tooru Oikawa had feelings for you? He’s been ignoring you for the last two days. It was a mistake coming here. Did he really just see you as a friend? A buddy? Your legs start to shake and you automatically take a few steps back.
Just as you want to turn around to disappear from this place, Oikawa reaches for your wrist. “(y/n) wait!” he calls to you. But you tear yourself away from him and stand with your back turned to him.
“Oikawa... You could have just told me you had a girlfriend and you had no feelings for me. But playing with my feelings... is really the last. But maybe it was my own stupidity. After all, you of all people are known as a flirtatious charmer and womanizer. I know we’ll have a few more games against you... But do me a favor, Tooru Oikawa... Leave me alone and don’t say another word. Don't look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t write to me and don’t even try to call me or come home to me. And one more thing... I know you wouldn’t do it anyway, but don’t follow me at all." You say quietly but your sad voice is still clear to hear. Yet you move and don’t look backwards anymore.
When you get home, you go straight to your room and slam the door behind you. Crying, you sink to the ground and look briefly at the teddy bear that Oikawa gave you. Even faster your tears flow and you pull your legs to your upper body to bury your face in them.
**Knock-Knock** you hear someone knocking on your room door, but you ignore the knock. “(y/n)? Are you here? Is everything okay?" you hear Ushijimas worried voice. You don’t answer him. “(y/n)! Is everything all right? If you don’t answer me... then I come in." even more concerned he continues.
Again, you don’t answer and soon you notice how your body and door are pushed forward and Ushijima steps into your room. When he sees you sitting on the floor sad, he says nothing. You get up and walk over to your bed, sit down so that Ushijima can’t see your face anymore. But after just a few seconds you feel how two strong arms pulling you towards him, and he holds you tight in his arms.
He still says nothing. You notice how you start crying hard again and turn to him to put your head to his chest. Sighing, he squeezes you and begins to make gentle circular movements with his hand on your back. He just lets you cry because he knows exactly what you need right now.
You remain in this position for over an hour until you eventually fall asleep so that Ushijima puts you in your bed and covers you. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and looks at you for a moment.
“(y/n)... I won’t let that guy who makes you so sad hurt you again.” He whispers softly and carefully closes the door behind him.
#2/4#oikawa#tooru#tooru oikawa#oikawa tooru#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyu x#haikyu x reader#oikawa x reader#tooru x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#tooru oikawa x reader#shittykawa#ushijima#wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi#ushiwaka#friendship#love#fluff#angst#nelas story#just an idea
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