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ethanharli · 4 years

Text

Requested: On Tumblr; May I ask for a Giyuu x male!Reader smut? Perhaps the reader being a little rough with Giyuu please?

Pairing(s): Giyuu Tomioka x Top Male Reader.

Warning(s): NSFW/SMUT, Bottom Tomioka, Energetic reader, Choking, Slight dirty talk and degradation, Hair pulling, ✨ Aftercare. ✨

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

A/n- I'm such a slut for this man smh

___________

I couldn't help but smile brightly when I saw Tomioka a little ways away from me, we were assigned a mission a couple of days ago to a quiet town in the east, where a demon has been taking young drunks and since I got here a day or so before him I made sure to look around and get familiar with the area. So I gently tapped my index and middle fingers together as we approached each other, seeing the slightest of smiles tug at his lips once he saw me, "[Y/n], you burned Wisteria incense?" He asked, now looking up at me with his usual stoic expression and all I could do is let out a small 'Mm-hm!' With a quick nod and a wide grin, not being able to speak much due to my damaged vocal cords. So taking a step closer I leaned down besides his ear not noticing the sudden stillness of his body as I spoke, "Should give us a bit more time to search around" My now deep and raspy voice wasn't something I had gotten used to yet, and it didn't help that I couldn't speak any louder then a whisper. However I did catch the small hitch in his breath, causing me to frown a bit as I pulled away and looked at him, his face was flushed and his lips were slightly parted, his gaze was fixated on the ground and I could finally see just how still he was standing.

It was only when I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead that he finally looked back up at me with slightly widened eyes. "You're warm, maybe you're sick?" My throat slowly started to itch again and I had to resist the urge to scratch at the scar along my throat. It was quiet concerning though, Tomioka has been getting warm like this a lot recently, I've tried to ask others about it to but they would just give me a knowing smile and tell me everything's alright, but that didn't stop me from worrying. I'm pretty sure it started around the time I was at the butterfly estate since Shinobu was helping me with my throat and damaged vocal cords. "Maybe you should sit this one out, I don't want you getting hurt" The worry in my tone was clear, but Tomioka simply took my hand in his and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on my cheek before pulling away, "I'm fine [Y/n], now let's go look around."

Stubborn bastard.

I couldn't help but sigh and follow after him, not wanting him to get lost since he's only just arrived. So while it was still light out I showed him all the important places where the demon might be hiding or might target next, taking an occasional look around at all the Wisteria incense I put out to see how much longer we had left and finally talking with some of the residence here, which luckily didn't end to badly since Tomioka had to do most of the talking. Nevertheless we eventually came up with a plan, "So we're going to tail a drunk?" I asked, looking at Tomioka with a slightly disapproving glare, not really wanting to use a towns-person as bait and I could tell that Tomioka new what I was thinking when he rested his hand on my shoulder, looking up at me with those beautiful dark blue eyes that practically own me at this point. "I won't let them get hurt, I promise" Even though he sounded confident I still held my doubts, but with a heavy sigh I traced the back my fingers along his jawline, pulling him in for a sweet but gentle kiss, "You're lucky I love you cause if it were anyone else I'd probably strangle them for even suggesting this idea."

I could practically feel the way my heart fluttered at his sudden chuckle, the sound of it so foreign since he rarely ever shows emotions, and I couldn't help but pull him back for another quick kiss, before heading off to my station, "Stay safe." It was the only thing I could hope for as I stood at the back of the bar, I was thankful that there was only one due to it being a small town but that didn't make the situation any less dangerous. The incense finally wore off as the stars danced across the midnight sky, while I sat myself down on the roof, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious or even just someone leaving and so far everything seemed alright, until a shadow flickered from the corner of my eye.

In one swift movement I drew my blade and slashed it at the demon who managed to jump out of the way just in time, now standing from my seated position I narrowed my eyes at the ugly bastard, "So you're the one that's been eating all these people?" I asked calmly, trying to raise my voice a little higher so I could be heard, and I couldn't help but raise a brow in confusion from the way she suddenly swayed, a deep blush now coating her grayish complexion. "It's a pity your a Demon slayer, with a voice like that I'd love to have you in my bed" I couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable about her suggestive tone and lustful gaze, but something in the back of my mind nagged at me. So trying to brush it off I rushed at her, dodging any hit she sent my way while she managed to dodge my attacks as well, "Sorry lady but I already got a lover, and I don't plan on letting you live tonight." Her smirk only seemed to grow at my words, as I closed in on her, hoping she wouldn't notice the way I was backing her into a corner, "Then they must be real slut for you hm? Wanting nothing more than to get off to deep voice of yours-"

Blood splattered onto my cheek and clothes as I cut off her head, "Demon or not, no one talks about my lover that way" I sneered slowly feeling my anger subside as I watched her burn away. Though I couldn't deny the fact that her words got me thinking, and eventually led me to connecting the dots about Tomioka's recent actions. So when the male appeared beside me with worried eyes I couldn't help but smile and nod my head before sheathing my blade, I also convinced him to stay the night with me since we've been away from one another for so long, and maybe for the fact that I wanted to figure something out.

-----

I didn't bother to dry my hair as I walked into our shared room, spotting Tomioka sitting on his futon with a book in hand, gently flipping through the pages as I made my way over to him, "[Y/n]?" Ignoring the call of my name I happily moved myself between his legs while pushing him onto his back so that I could rest my head on his abdomen. "It's been so long.. Since we've last seen each other" I mumbled softly, wrapping my arm around his waist so that I could hold him closer against me, while my other hand slipped under his robe and gently traced small circles along his skin, smiling when I heard a sigh of content slip past his lips. However I couldn't help but trail my hand up higher as I lifted myself onto my knees, looking down into Tomioka's slightly widened eyes with a small smirk tugging at my lips.

"And it's been even longer.. Since I heard those pretty moans of yours" I could feel the way his body shivered under my fingertips and it only caused my smirk to grow as I attached my lips to the base of his neck, dragging my teeth and tongue along his pale skin, not wanting to leave a single place untouched while my hands opened up his robe. Gently tracing my fingers along his toned abdomen and pushing my thumbs against his hardened nipples, as I bit into his shoulder, drinking in the way he moaned my name with a choked gasp. "[Y-Y/n].." The way my name rolled off his tongue nearly caused me to growl as I captured his lips with my own, dragging my tongue along his lower lip before I took it between my teeth, giving it a soft tug. While my hands traveled down to his pants, slowly pressing my fingers under the band as I pushed my tongue past his parted lips, slowly losing myself to the taste of him as he pressed his hips against my own.

"Now now baby, there's no need to rush" I whispered against his lips as I slipped off his pants, noticing the fact he wasn't wearing any undergarments and the way his cock slowly started to leak pre-cum. "Already? I barley even touched you" The teasing tone of my voice forced a whimper past his throat as I wrapped my fingers around his cock, pressing my thumb against the slit and smearing his pre-cum around it before licking it off my fingers. "[Y-Y/n] please" I couldn't help but drag my tongue along my upper lip before leaning down to kiss along his jawline, threading my fingers through his soft black hair. Tightening my grip I yanked his head back, "Ah-!" His sudden moan caused my heart to thump and my core to tighten, reminding me of the uncomfortable erection in my pants while starring into those beautiful dark blue eyes of his.

"Now be a good boy and suck" I growled, pressing my fingers to his slightly parted lips as he wrapped his hands around my wrist and wrapped his tongue around my middle finger, skillfully coating my fingers in his saliva and I couldn't help but press the pad of my finger against the back of his tongue, hearing him gag a bit as he stuck out his tongue and looked up at me with a hazy gaze. "Absolutely stunning" I breathed out, instantly moving my hand so I could capture his lips with my own, feeling our noses slightly bump against each others as I took his lower lip between my teeth and trailed my hand down to his entrance, carefully circling my finger around the rim. "Are you ready?" I asked, looking into his eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his consent, "Yes- Please hurry.." He whimpered out as I nodded, slowly pushing my finger in so I wouldn't hurt him.

His soft moans and gasps caused a slow heat to rise to my face as I pushed in another finger, moving them in a scissoring motion to make sure he's stretched out enough to ensure I wouldn't hurt him, "Hah! F-Fuck, [Y/n] pl-please just fuck me!" I couldn't deny his pleading tone and immediately went to pull off my clothes, throwing them off into some other part of the room as Tomioka wrapped his legs around my hips, causing my cock to rub against his entrance. A low whimper slipped past his lips while I hooked one hand behind his knee, pushing his leg towards his chest as I positioned myself at his entrance, looking into his eyes for a brief moment before slowly pushing it. "Ngh- Hah!" The sound of his moans and the way his walls quickly tightened around me caused a low gutteral goan to rip past my throat, and I couldn't help but bring my hand up to wrap around his throat, as I've done many times before, watching as his pale skin turned a deeper shade of red as he wrapped his hands around my wrist.

"Damn, such a slut for me aren't you?" I smirked, fully pushing myself into him as I dug my fingers into the sides of his neck, making sure not to press against his throat as I began to rock my hips, searching for that one spot that always had him trembling beneath me, "Hah- Ah, [Y/n]!" Ah, there it is. Loosening my grip on his neck I pounded into him, aiming for his prostate as his moans and whimpers echoed throughout the room, my name rolling off his tongue like a prayer, causing my core tighten from the sound and the addicting way his walls tightened around me with each thrust. "Fuck.. You feel so good baby" I practically growled out the words through panted breaths, leaning down to press sloppy open mouth kisses along his shoulder as he desperately tightened his grip on my hips, "I'm, I'm going to-" His body began to tremble under me as he looked up at me with hazy eyes and a silent plead. "Go ahead baby, cum for me" Digging his nails into my wrist he came on his lower stomach as I quickly came after him, heavy pants slipping past both our parted lips as I pressed a gentle kiss against the newly formed bruise on his neck before reaching for the towel I was supposed to use to dry my hair an hour ago.

"Giyuu, are you okay?" I asked while cleaning us both off, noticing the way he was practically half-asleep already. "Yeah, just a bit sore.. But it was worth it" Not wanting to embarrass him I merely nodded my head, pretending I didn't hear that last bit as I laid down beside him, pulling the cover over our bare bodies. However I couldn't help but smile as he snuggled against my chest while I gently traced small circles on his hip.

"I love you.."

"I love you too Giyuu."

#x male reader #giyuu tomioka x male reader #giyuu tomioka x seme male reader #giyuu tomioka x top male reader #giyuu tomioka x dom male reader #x seme male reader #x dom male reader #x top male reader #demon slayer #demon slayer giyuu

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lowkeyorloki · 3 years

Text

Goldfish

Pairing: Loki x Mobius

Rating: Teen and up, but nothing more than a couple kisses

A/N: Hiiii sorry I’m never on here anymore I’m a bit busy and I don’t have time to post consistently on tumblr if I want to keep updating my multichapter! I know this isn’t my usual content but I’m posting it on my ao3 so I figured I’d drop it here as well ^.^ it’s funny, I don’t even ship lokius but I saw some fanart on twitter of them hugging and it just... inspired me. If this is your thing, I hope you enjoy <3

It’s just that… Loki knows it will have to be him.

He can’t read Mobius, not like he can every other human he comes across. Or being, even. Mobius has seen every moment of Loki’s life, some of which Loki himself will now never live out or understand. Mobius has watched Loki in his most private moments.

It makes the TVA agent inescapable. He knows Loki, truly knows him, whether Loki likes it or not.

And so Loki can’t tell with Mobius. The small exhaled laughs or the allowance of Loki to fix his tie. Loki doesn’t know if Mobius does these things because he wants to, or because Loki would like to think the other man wants him to.

And Mobius is loyal to the TVA, anyway. Even if he were to look past all of Loki’s faults, even if Mobius were to see Loki as anything more than a pain in the ass of a friend, he wouldn’t do anything. It was controversial enough to bring in Loki at all.

Loki should be thankful he has Mobius in any capacity at all.

And so Loki knows he would have to make the first move. And he can’t do that, because Mobius is possibly the only person who could destroy Loki with a simple rejection.

Loki keeps quiet, and lives for when his shoulder brushes Mobius’s in the elevator.

Trying to find the variant is exhausting. Mobius is on his seventh cup of coffee, and his head is starting to buzz. Not the good, productive type of buzz either. The type that makes someone need to lay down.

Apparently, Loki has already had that idea. Mobius glances at him, asleep across the table and surrounded by books and loose papers. As he drains the last of what’s in his cup, Mobius realizes he hasn’t seen Loki eat or drink a single thing since he got here. If he had to, Mobius would bet money the god hasn’t been sleeping either.

Mobius stands up, his back cracking when he does. He groans - Mobius is getting old, something he’s noticed more and more lately. He walks around the table until he’s right next to Loki, ready to wake him up. Loki’s breaths are even, hitting the ends of a few pieces of paper. Mobius has never really seen him like this - calm, subdued. He almost looks peaceful. Mobius leans over Loki, hands on his hips as he examines the other man.

Mobius would never tell Loki, but it is obvious that the dark-haired man is a god. There are just things about his looks that clue Mobius in.

Loki’s skin, even as it’s gotten dull with his time in the TVA, is technically flawless. He glows, even in his embarrassing or rude moments. His cheekbones are impossibly sharp, and his lips are the reddest Mobius has seen. He would guess they’re soft.

Loki’s hair was the most dead giveaway. It always looked perfect, loose curls that seemed to suck in any light. It was the opposite of Mobius’s graying blond hair. He’s shiny. Everything about Loki is shiny.

Loki stirs, and Mobius straightens up, not wanting Loki to see him watching. He was upset enough that Mobius has watched his entire life over.

Mobius ponders how to wake Loki up when a lock of his black hair falls into his face. Without thinking, Mobius reaches forward and tucks it behind the man’s ear.

Reckless. Loki really does start to wake up then, and Mobius swats him with the corner of the folders in his hand.

“Come on,” Mobius says. “We’re not even close to done.”

The two of them are so close to making strides. Loki is smart, just like Mobius knew - just like he keeps convincing Ravonna - but he’s being held back. It’s like a single wrong look could make Loki wither away, be absent for the rest of the day. Mobius has no clue how someone who thought so highly of himself could be so affected by the glare of a random agent. Maybe Mobius didn’t know Loki as well as he thought. Only in small ways, though.

And Mobius still hasn’t seen him eat or drink a damn thing.

He stands up abruptly, surprising Loki. His head shoots up, perfect curls becoming loose and falling in his face in the process. Mobius almost considers brushing them away.

“Come on,” he says, gesturing towards the exit. Loki narrows his eyes.

“We haven’t even been here four hours,” he says, which is generous, because they both know they’ve only been there for two. Mobius lets out a harsh sigh.

“Am I the supervisor or are you? Let’s go, Loki.” Loki seems to know Mobius is doing him a favor, and stands up as well. Loki follows him down a new set of hallways, stands next to him in an elevator he hasn’t been on yet.

“Am I to take it we’re breaking the rules, or…?” Loki trails off in a way that is anything but unsure.

“It’s for the sake of the cause,” Mobius says. “We don’t need to address it directly.”

Mobius does look over his shoulder when he gets to the door, and locks it as soon as they’re both inside. He flicks on the lights, and Loki looks bored. Mobius lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you. Sit down,” he gestures towards the couch.

“Agent Mobius, are you allowing me in your home?” Loki’s eyes glint. Despite himself, Mobius finds himself relieved to hear Loki making quips again. He already might have more energy.

“Hey, if we don’t talk about it, my job security looks a lot better,” Mobius sets a bowl down in front of Loki. “Will you please eat something? God or not, I don’t know how you’re still alive after a month.” Loki presses his lips into a thin line.

“Mobius, I appreciate the gesture, but you don’t need to -” Mobius is already prepared, and tosses a piece of food directly into Loki’s mouth as he speaks. He makes a gagging noise, and looks at Mobius furiously, but the other man is already laughing.

“What… what are these?” He asks after swallowing, seemingly admitting defeat. Mobius laughs again.

“Goldfish. They’re from Earth you know,” Mobius eats a few, and quietly celebrates when Loki does as well.

“Goldfish. I know of an employee you have that might benefit from these,” Loki tells him.

“I’m flattered you think I’m anyone’s, especially Casey’s, superior. But really, the only person I’m in charge of is you,” Mobius says. Loki glares.

“I’m always ten steps ahead of you all. Surely you know that,” he says, but it’s non-committal. Mobius can tell.

“Yep. You’ve said before, handsome. This is all part of your plan.” Mobius looks to Loki for his next retort, but Loki doesn’t say anything. He stares at Mobius with an unreadable look on his face, and Mobius realizes his slip up. Handsome.

“Hey, don’t let my crackers go to waste. They’re hard to get a hold of around here, you know,” Mobius says, and Loki seems to move.

They stay like that for awhile, Loki sitting as Mobius watches over him. Mobius is just getting comfortable again when Loki gets up.

“It’s been great, but we probably should be heading back now,” he says, walking towards the door. “Wouldn’t want the timekeepers finding out about this, would we?”

Mobius stops him, carefully telling him to wait. Loki does, back facing him.

“I can tell you’re tired, Loki. I get it. You got here just after a war,” Loki tenses, just barely, at the mention of New York. Mobius talks faster to smooth it over. “I think you can take a day off. Better for me anyway. I don’t want to be sticking my neck out for someone who isn’t even helping all that much.” Mobius puts his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

He’s always shocked by the amount of muscle he can feel through the material of Loki’s shirt. Loki seems so lean, but whenever Mobius touches him, he can feel how solid the other man is. He likes it. It’s soothing.

Loki turns around, looking suspicious. Mobius doesn’t blame Loki, but he does almost feel guilty.

Almost.

“You can sleep here. Not just today. I’m sure the cot they have you sleeping in hardly compares to whatever you had on Asgard,” Mobius steps away, letting Loki go and waving his hand. “My couch doesn’t either, but it’s an upgrade for sure. Living room is all yours, buddy.”

“Where are you going?” Loki asks. Mobius looks at him.

“To my room. I’m tired too,” he says. Loki blinks.

“Won’t someone notice I’m not where I’m supposed to be?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Mobius says dismissively, even though he has no idea how he’s going to pull this off.

He’s practically made Loki a promise at this point. He’ll figure out how to make it all okay somehow.

It’s driving Loki insane.

Before, he could keep it all in because he was scared that Mobius wouldn’t want it. Wouldn’t want him. But now, there are moments that Loki doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that Mobius might push him away, give him that disapproving look if it meant Loki could just…

Kiss him.

Loki scoffs at himself. He didn’t even get this caught up in the thought of a kiss as a boy. It was pathetic to feel like this in adulthood.

What’s even worse is the thought that maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. He can recall watching Thor on Earth as he followed around Jane Foster, losing every bit of charm that kept him so popular on Asgard. At the time, Loki didn’t understand it.

But now he does.

Everything is so high stakes for him - Loki is doomed if he doesn’t do as the TVA wants, and he would have been doomed had he just stayed on Earth like he was supposed to. But he barely even pays attention to those things.

Every waking moment is about Mobius. How he looks in the morning before he showers, hair tousled as he digs around in the fridge. The way his face lights up when he and Loki almost find the variant, and then the inevitable disappointment when they don’t. How every night, without fail, he tells Loki goodnight as the god falls asleep on his couch.

Loki is starting to think there is something here. Because he’s paranoid, but not stupid. Mobius wouldn’t be letting Loki get this close if he thought the same way as when they first met.

They enjoy each other. Mobius likes to lead, to rebel in the way he’s been given permission to. And Loki is realizing he doesn’t mind following a man like Mobius.

Of course, the TVA isn’t so bad either.

The organization itself, Loki hates. He’s never met the timekeepers, but they sound like kings. That was a group Loki never got along with.

But the buildings, the center, was growing on him. Even if he wasn’t allowed access to most of the materials, Loki likes the library. He enjoys staying deep in the bookshelves, and bringing a stack out to drop right on the book Mobius is reading. Loki likes the elevators, which seemed to be the few minutes he could simply stand in silence and rest. He likes Casey too, though he tends to leave the poor, sad man alone now.

Most of all, Loki likes the long hallways that rarely had anyone but him and Mobius. They feel private without being stifling. Sometimes, when the two go back to Mobius’s apartment too early, Loki feels sick. Like it physically hurts to be so close to having what he wants.

“That brown suit is hideous, you know.” Loki tells Mobius as they’re both getting ready. Mobius scowls at Loki.

“It’s uniform. You know, if everything works out, you might get one just like it,” Mobius retorts. Loki scoffs. “Alright then, mr. prince. What would you have me in?”

Loki stops, his eyes trailing over Mobius as he thinks about the question. Loki smirks, turning around as he grabs his belt.

“Anything else. You always look so uptight. No one here knows how to let loose a bit.”

“I’m uptight. That’s a good one,” Mobius says. He’s standing by the door, wanting to leave. “Could you hurry up and put your pants on? We’re late.”

All Loki is doing is tucking his shirt in, but he thinks he can feel Mobius looking. It’s in a way that doesn’t seem strictly observational.

The nightmares, of course, are an issue.

Loki hasn’t shared a room since he and Thor were children, so no one knows about the night terrors he gets. Maybe Mobius does, having had a glance at a few as he watched Loki’s life play out on the screen. But Loki doesn’t think so, because Mobius has never said anything.

But of course, Loki has to ruin that. He wakes up with a shout that echoes off the walls. He slaps a hand over his mouth, then pulls it away, sticky with sweat. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose when Mobius bursts into the living room, slamming his hand over the light switch to turn it on.

“I’m sorry,” Loki says immediately, squinting at the brightness. “I didn’t mean to be so loud. I know you would get in trouble if someone were to find me here.”

“You.. I’d…” Mobius blinks, still half asleep and trying to figure out what’s happening. “Loki, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Go back to bed, Mobius.” Loki leans more into his palm, cursing himself for letting this happen. If Mobius knows Loki like he claims to, he should just go.

Mobius stays in the doorway, and Loki can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Mobius sighs.

“Look, I’m not gonna ask you what it was, but… why don’t you sleep in here for tonight?” He gestures behind him, presumably towards his bed. Loki raises his head, looking at the other man.

Mobius looks sincere - painfully so. It seems like he doesn’t know what’s going on or what he should do, but he also looks like he just wants Loki to listen.

Loki gets up, folding the blanket on the couch before he follows Mobius. Loki crawls into the bed after the other man, staying as far away as possible. He expects Mobius to say something else, but he doesn’t. Mobius just sighs and yanks the blanket towards him.

Loki wakes up feeling amazing.

He feels rested, warm and heavy as he stirs. The room smells like sleep, and Loki can’t help but raise his arms above his head and stretch. That’s when he feels something on his chest. Loki opens his eyes, peering down. Mobius’s arm is slung over him, the other man still asleep.

Loki doesn’t move, trying to figure out how asleep Mobius still is. He wonders if they can stay like this for a few more minutes.

He doesn’t take the chance. Loki gets up, quietly leaving so he can take a shower in the bathroom where his toothbrush sits next to Mobius’s.

Mobius doesn’t like this shift in his feelings.

He liked thinking Loki was all bravado with no depth. It was easy to separate everything that way. What was work, and what wasn’t. What mattered and didn’t.

What was ethical or not.

Being around Loki so much was making Mobius like him. Even worse, care. He started to dread rewatching certain scenes from his life to look for clues that might tell him where other Lokis are, because Mobius can see the effects of it all now. They’re playing out in front of him, sleeping on his living room couch.

When Loki wakes up from whatever he was dreaming about, Mobius feels sick. He doesn’t even think about the fact Loki’s cry is loud enough to get caught - literally does not even occur to him. His only thought is, what now? What could possibly catch up to you here?

After Loki lays down in his bed (which was easier to get him to do than Mobius thought), Mobius listens for his breathing to even out. Then he reaches over, resting his arm on Loki’s chest. Mobius falls asleep making sure Loki is still breathing.

Mobius notices the way Loki looks at him. The realization makes Mobius think about the two of them. What it would mean.

It hasn’t even occurred to him to look at Loki like that, not seriously. Loki is an asset, so Mobius built up a ton of walls for the sake of professionalism. You know, for his job. Mobius is aware of Loki’s attractiveness because he has to be. It’s part of the reason all these Lokis get away with so much.

But after that night Mobius begins to look at Loki because he can. And then he realizes he’s been doing that all along.

“You know,” Mobius tells Loki the next afternoon. They’re in the cafeteria, and Loki is eating everything in his salad but the cherry tomatoes. “It might be better if you stay with me again tonight. Like you said, we wouldn’t want any of my neighbors to pick up on anything.” Loki raises an eyebrow, carefully setting his fork down. Mobius clears his throat.

“No need to be embarrassed, partner. I’m told I have a soothing presence.”

“I absolutely would not say that,” Loki says. “But… if you insist. After all,” Loki’s eyes glint. “You’re in charge.”

Mobius doesn’t know what to say to that, and drinks a cup of water in just one gulp.

And they settle into it. Loki doesn’t sneak out of Mobius’s arms, in fact, he actively seeks them out. Only once everything is quiet and the lights are out, but still. Loki tucks his head under Mobius’s chin, Mobius wraps his arms around Loki’s torso, and they both like it. A lot.

They don’t mention it ever, but it doesn’t seem like something they aren’t allowed to talk about. It’s just part of the routine. Shower, study, search, eat, get in bed. It’s nice.

At some point, Loki realizes this is the longest he’s stayed in one place for a very long time.

Just like Loki thought, he’s the first to do it.

They’re in the elevator, and it’s taking a particularly long time, and Mobius decided to stand closer than he needed to and Loki just… kisses him.

The best part is, Mobius doesn’t even seem surprised. He opens his mouth when Loki bites down on his lip, and he holds on to the lapels of Loki’s jacket and Loki cradles his face. Everything is so familiar, so natural, and Loki can’t help but smile against Mobius’s stupid mustache.

And then Loki pulls away. Mobius doesn’t say anything, but he gives Loki a sad smile. Loki feels his blood run cold.

“What?” He asks, and suddenly, he feels like a child. Like Mobius knows something he doesn’t, and now Loki is going to be chastised.

“Nothing,” Mobius says, but that’s obviously not true. He sighs. “It’s just… that can't happen again.”

Loki stares at Mobius. “Why?” He demands. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Mobius says. His hands are resting on Loki’s waist, but he slides one over Loki's stomach. Mobius’s fingers find their way through the holes that the buttons of Loki’s shirt leave. The feeling of Mobius’s fingers on Loki’s bare skin make Loki dizzy, and confused.

“Then why can’t we do it again?” He asks, wanting to rip Mobius’s hand off of him, but unable to bring himself to. Mobius grimaces.

“Loki... Isn’t what we got goin’ enough?” Loki is cool under Mobius’s fingers. No more than anyone else though, even with his frost giant heritage. “C’mon, Loki,” when Mobius glances at Loki, then immediately looks away. The sight of Loki’s disorientated face, combined with his mouth slightly ajar… it’s too much. “You know if it goes any further one of us will screw up. I’ll even say it’ll be me. But someone would notice. It’d be impossible for them not to.”

“But… you’re the one who started this,” Loki protests, and he’s right, because Mobius is the one who brought him into this whole mess. The TVA, his apartment, his bedroom. It’s all been Mobius. Loki never asked for any of that.

“I know,” Mobius says, and he sounds like he’s sorry. “Listen, I know. I’m sorry. We can’t have it all, but if we keep going the way we have, we can still have some.”

Loki steps away, and Mobius’s face falls. He looks more angry than sad.

“I think I’d like to go back to my cell now.” Loki says.

Loki doesn’t actually go back to his cell. But he does sleep on the couch again, and refuses to touch the Goldfish Mobius leaves out.

Mobius feels like a dick, but he’s also sort of pissed. He’s not happy about this either, and if Loki wasn’t always so selfish, he would see that Mobius also isn’t prancing around in happiness.

“I’m not like you,” Mobius tells Loki the next morning. “Look, I can’t just… rebel. It’s not a luxury I’ve been afforded.”

“I’m glad that after seeing my entire life and death, you’ve settled on the word ‘luxury’ to describe it,” Loki responds angrily, and Mobius just backs off. He knows he won’t get anywhere with Loki, not like this.

Watching Loki close himself off is… exactly what Mobius would have thought it would be.

It’s exactly the same as when Loki arrived at the TVA, he’s just less defensive. Loki is just as mad at everyone else, but with Mobius, Loki doesn’t even give him a reaction. He does exactly what’s asked of him, no more and no less.

Mobius misses him.

Loki is just across the table, but Mobius misses their rapport. He wants to tease the god again, hassle him as they make their way to the cafeteria. Mobius wants to listen to Loki talk about Asgard, tell him all the little details that can’t be picked up on a screen. He wants his friend back.

And now Mobius isn’t sleeping, either. He grew used to Loki’s head resting on his chest, the feeling of his hip in his hand. Mobius thinks about the skin of Loki’s stomach, how everything in the elevator felt.

It was like Mobius lit up. He felt alive again, with free will and all.

But of course, Mobius doesn’t have free will. If he did, he’d pull Loki into the elevator himself, and show Loki just how much wanted this too.

It hurts because Loki knows Mobius wants this.

It’s almost worse than if he didn’t - because Mobius liking, wanting, and maybe even needing Loki back, it makes him like everything else in Loki’s life. Loki is so close, he can reach it, even hold it in the palm of his hand. A life with Mobius, at least for the time being, would be exactly as it was before the argument, except more so. Just a bit more.

Loki can’t take it. He feels like he’s going to vomit every second of the day, because his life is a vicious cycle and coming so far just to be thrown away. He takes long showers now, the stream of water being the only thing that can drown out his thoughts. Loki almost doesn’t see Mobius as he steps out of the bathroom, drying his hair.

“Loki,” the other man says, and his tone is so grave that Loki stops.

“Mobius,” he responds. “Do you need something?”

“I… I wanted to apologize,” Mobius takes a step forward. “For what I said.”

Loki tilts his head. “For which part? I recall quite a few things.” A look of exasperation passes over Mobius’s face. Loki hates to admit it, but the look is relieving. It makes everything seem less serious than it is.

“What I said about not being like you,” Mobius explains. “Look, I know you’ve felt alone your whole life. And the way I said that, I don’t feel good about it. I’m sorry.”

Loki blinks, then throws his towel in the hamper.

“It’s fine,” he says. Mobius shakes his head, stepping even closer, and Loki raises his eyes.

“No, Loki, it’s not,” Mobius reaches up, running his fingers through Loki’s damp hair. “I lied,” he murmurs. “I lied to the God of Lies. I am like you, Loki. I’m your kind. I know Lokis, so I know who you would have been. But this you?” Mobius places his hands over Loki’s hips and pushes, pressing Loki’s back against the wall. “I’m still getting to know who you are now. And I like you, Loki. I really do.” Mobius stares at Loki expectantly. Loki swallows, resting his hands on Mobius’s shoulders. Mobius is softer than Loki is, and it makes Loki’s mouth water. From here, Loki can see every wrinkle and gray hair that Mobius has. He’s painfully human. Loki closes his eyes, leaning forward to press his lips against Mobius’s temple.

“Do you mean it?” He asks. “Will it stick? Are you going to call it all off?” At this angle, Mobius can reach Loki’s neck, and he begins to suck on the delicate skin there. Loki lets out a moan.

“I can’t promise we’re gonna get married and be together forever,” Mobius teases Loki lightly. He runs his tongue over Loki’s Adam’s Apple. “But I’m not gonna stop just because of the TVA. You.. you’re worth more than that.” Mobius slides his palms under Loki’s shirt and up his back, and Loki melts into him. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Loki says, because that’s all there is to say. He trusts Mobius, Loki realizes. He wholeheartedly does.

“Loki,” Mobius says, exhaling. “Can I touch you? Do you want me to touch you?”

Loki straightens, catching Mobius’s eye.

“Yes.”

#also as you all know i hated the show so if some details are off. good <3 #lmao i called casey randall bc i thought that was his name #anyway #loki #loki laufeyson #mobius #mobius m. mobius #mobius m mobius #lokius #loki x mobius #loki laufeyson x mobius #loki laufeyson x mobius m. mobius #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #loki 2021 #loki (2021)#loki series

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

You may have a little Lorenz Prompt as promised. As a treat. Here goes~

Lorenz taking thorough notes to surprise his s/o (is it the blog owner? the reader? some random character? It doesn't matter~!) with the most lovely, romantic date imaginable based around everything they like. He wouldn't put in this much effort to TRULY impress someone, but you're worth every step and more.

Enjoy where this takes your thoughts~!

(and pls don't eat it, Tumblr)

Y'know what, I've had a shitty day and I just finished writing some darker content- so I am going to ~indulge~. Normally I try to make my Reader character as broadly relatable as possible, but today we're going with MY preferences and interests because I WANT A NICE DATE WITH LORENZ GODDAMNIT

Lorenz (FE3H) x GN Reader - perfect date

Fluff - SFW

Today simply has to be flawless- the Gloucester heir will not accept any less. Not when it comes to you. Of course, Lorenz holds himself to high standards in all things, but the thought of providing anything less than perfection for you is one that pains him to even consider. Especially now that he'd finally gotten the courage- or, rather, found the right and proper time to ask you to spend the day with him.

You approach him at the Monastery gates not long after noon that day, and find your pace slowing as you eye him before he's noticed you. Without his usual elegant set of armor, you can appreciate the way constant marching and training has toned his slender frame- and appreciate it, you most certainly do. Though he soon turns to face you, and your eyes dart back up from a rather ignoble place to meet his instead.

"You're as radiant as ever, I see," he says with a warm smile. He offers you an arm and you take it, replying with a grin,

"You've already got me for the day, Lorenz, there's no need for flattery."

"'Flattery' implies a measure of falsehood," he says with confidence, leading you towards town, "and I could never bring myself to lie to one so lovely."

As your time together proceeds, you can't help but feel that, some way, somehow, Lorenz has some kind of psychic insight into your preferences. Everywhere you turn, whatever your heart could desire is immediately available and set before you with hardly any negotiation at play. At the first flower stall you find, Lorenz takes a moment to exchange words with the owner while you admire the sprawling array of colorful blooms; and by the time he's returned, he's holding a woven crown of delicate little white flowers. With an admiring smile, he carefully places it on your head, a hand trailing down a lock of your hair as he pulls away to observe you.

With a shy grin, you perform an exaggerated curtsy, prompting Lorenz to laugh fondly and take you by the hand. He twirls you slowly under his arm, watching you all the while, then says,

"They suit you every bit as wonderfully as I'd thought."

"They're my favorites," you reply.

"I know- erm, that is- I know of a superb bakery down the block this way," Lorenz seems a bit red in the face, but you chalk that up to nerves.

He's not wrong though- this bakery is something else. The selection and quality of ingredients is on an entirely new level compared to the Monastery's dining hall, and you find yourself overwhelmed even reading down the list of items posted to the wall. By your third pass over the full range of options, the words are starting to dance in your eyes- but a warm touch at your arm shakes your focus. Lorenz leans close to be heard over the rapidly growing crowd at the bakery's counter,

"Might I make a recommendation?" you nod, and he goes on, "I happen to have it on good authority that there's an item not included on this menu that you may like. It incorporates three different treatments of Brigid cocoa, if that is of any interest to you."

Your eyes light up and you can practically feel the rich sweetness across your tongue already.

"That sounds incredible," you reply, enraptured by the very thought. When you start to ask how he'd heard of such a thing, Lorenz has already turned to speak to the worker taking orders, and your words drown among the crowd of customers. The speed at which he acquires this mythical pastry only fills your mind with more questions. How did he manage to purchase an off-menu item so quickly? Wouldn't the cost of something requiring those many luxurious imported ingredients be astronomical?

But then, Lorenz returns to your side and guides you out of the crowded shop, and the sight of the delectable chocolatey treat in his hands dashes all other thoughts from your mind. He hands it to you wrapped in a handkerchief, and you can't help but immediately plunge in for a bite.

"Mmmm-!" you wear an expression of pure bliss as your mouth fills with sweet, savory chocolate, "Oh- Lorenz, it's so good!"

When you glance up at him, he's watching you with a strangely heavy expression. Once more, his fair complexion is painted a light red. You tilt your head curiously, and he seems to resurface from whatever thoughts had taken him for the moment.

"Here- you should try some," you break off a piece and hold it up to him.

"Are- are you certain? I had intended for you to enjoy it to your heart's content," he stammers out, evidently still a bit flushed.

"I want you to get to have some too. Please?" You hate to resort to puppy eyes with him, but it's hard to argue with the results. He leans forward and accepts the piece of pastry from your hand. You don't shy away from him in the slightest, and so a brief brush of his lower lip along the tip of your finger simply can't be avoided. Lorenz does his best to move past this without acknowledgement, and you two enjoy your treat together as you take in the bustle of the town around you.

The day continues in kind, with Lorenz apparently having painstakingly arranged every element of this date from start to finish. At a local seller of antiques and luxury goods, he secures permission to view and explore rare and dazzling paintings from around the world. Here, he's rather uncharacteristically reserved. Wandering the storage area like your own personal art museum, he watches you with evident warmth as you exclaim at the rich and varied pigments, the innovative expressions of human form, and so on.

After this, he brings you to a tavern at the far end of town, where he's reserved the second floor exclusively for you two to enjoy a quiet, intimate meal together. By this point, you've finally gotten around to considering just how much gold must have gone into this singular date.

"Lorenz," you say cautiously, "are you sure it's okay to go through all of this and spend so much just for-"

He raises a hand to cut you off, then replies,

"I assure you that it is," he takes your hand in his, holding it warmly from across your private table, "wealth has no value that we ourselves do not assign to it, and I have chosen to spend it on your pleasure. I can think of no greater use for a bit of coin."

The rest of the early evening is filled with pleasant chat and the occasional subtle sweet-talk. As you discuss everything you've seen and experienced that day, Lorenz engages you with surprisingly astute comments and observations. He's always at his best when he feels permitted to simply talk with you, as one person to another, free of the pressures and expectations of his birthright that he shoulders without a thought.

The sun is steadily lowering behind the hills and walls of the surrounding town by the time you make your way back together. As you walk hand in hand watching the Monastery gates rise ahead of you, Lorenz clears his throat abruptly and says,

"If I may steal you away for just a little while longer, there was... actually someone I thought you'd like to meet."

"Oh? What an honor," you say with a smile, "Do I get any hints?"

Lorenz gives a good-natured chuckle and says,

"Only that I think you'll get along splendidly."

And of all places throughout Garreg Mach's grounds, you begin to recognize that he is leading you towards the stables. You've met Lorenz's horse before- a lovely mare with a calm and agreeable temperment. If not her, then...

"Eloise?" Lorenz calls out in a gentle voice, "Eloise, come say hello- Ellie? Come now, don't tell me you've chosen tonight to become bashful..." at his call, a svelte black cat with delicate little white paws comes trotting out to meet you. Your heart positively aches and melts at the sight of her eagerly approaching Lorenz with clear comfort and familiarity.

"Lorenz, you... have a cat?" You say with obvious disbelief.

"She's one of the Monastery's strays, to be clear," he says, "She helps with the mice in the stables. Evidently, she had become quite fond of my preferred horse- and so eventually became fond of me as well."

Fond seems an understatement- she very clearly adores him. With a chorus of happy little mews, she circles his legs and rubs against him until he crouches down to offer her his hand. As he does, a shred of parchment flutters from his pocket onto the ground. Eloise targets it like a seasoned warrior and pounces at it with gusto. With a laugh, you kneel down to retrieve whatever this paper she's captured might be.

"Now Eloise, none of that- you must behave genteel-like with guests."

As he firmly lectures the cat, you glance at the paper in your hand. Nearly every inch of it is covered in an elegant, curling script that you imagine must belong to Lorenz. It looks like a... list of some kind. As your eyes scan down the page, you begin to recognize a pattern. Your favorite flowers, favorite desserts, favorite types of books and places around town- plus, to the side, the word "cats?" underlined several times. For a moment, you simply cover your mouth to hold in a snort of laughter. Then, you come to kneel beside Lorenz as he's failing to convince his feline friend to stop swatting at his hair.

"So- you've been taking very thorough notes lately." you say, nudging his arm playfully. He turns to face you with an immediate look of panic. Lavender eyes widen and glance down to the parchment in your hand, then back to you. He visibly deflates and says,

"Goddess- you must find me such a fool-"

You press your lips firmly to his before he can say another word. With a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flutter shut and he leans into your kiss. His lips are wonderfully soft, and the subtle scent of his cologne surrounds your senses as you tilt your head to seal your lips to his more firmly. You're not certain how long you remain like this, but only the dull ache of kneeling on the dirt and the incessant sound of Eloise bapping her paw against the paper in your hand bring you back to your surroundings. When you part from him, you brush aside the silky curtain of his hair to run your hand along his face, and say,

"I had a wonderful time today, Lorenz- and it means the world to me that you put so much thought into this. But next time, you don't have to study so hard, okay?"

For a moment, he seems speechless. Then, he gives a shy chuckle.

"You have bested me yet again, it would seem. How can I ever hope to become a man worthy of you when you are ever more lovely with each passing day?"

Eloise gives an insistent chirp and rubs once more against his leg, evidently tired of distractions from the attention she feels she's owed. Your smile widens, and you scratch her ear fondly.

"I think there's at least two of us who like you just as you are, Lorenz."

#no one's gonna read this why is it so long #fe3h #feh #lorenz hellman gloucester #lorenz x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem fic #fluff #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fluff

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matchamorphosis · 3 years

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 || you and Andy go on a trip to Greece for your birthday and discover the love you have for one another.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 || fluffy fluff

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 || andy barber × black[birthday girl]!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 || 5.2K

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 || jealousy, some rom com cliches, divorced!andy, i used like six different dividers to match with the storyline so very sorry if that’s unusual to you!

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 || past lives by bornes. mariposa by the peach rascals. apricot princess by rex orange country. out like a light by the honey sticks & ricky montgomery

𝒘. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 || this is a birthday gift for @areyoustchewpid!!!! happy birthday ingrid!!! everyone go wish the birthday girl the best for her special day! 💗 I hope this fic fulfills your dreams of Greece with lawyer daddy and i hope you cherubs enjoy reading this <33

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

THE GOLDEN FLICKER OF PALE PINK CANDLES CREATE A HOLY CHASTE HUE AGAINST BASHFUL SMILE BRIGHTENING YOUR FACE.

an event that you’ve been expecting all day yet while a firm chestnut table sits underneath your crossed legs cools as a sweetpea and seasalt ocean breeze blows into the dining room your expectations have somewhat been granted and changed. where only a three layer chocolate cake sits between you and Andy, both your lovestruck eyes never leaving each other despite the comet rippling starry sky glimmering from the white paneled windows.

everything is all sparkling, soft pink and golden at this moment.

from the rosy dawned blush that grazes against Andy’s cheeks to the blushy tone of your sundress and beating heart. candles sparkling to life as you and him in the very moment, wax melting in rosy dewdrops just like the fear of allowing these caged emotions to fly free. now they seemed to have been unrestrained by the gold bars of worry, aversion, and self committed rejection.

simple cursive writing made of periwinkle icing contrasts against the dark fudge confection this dearest friend of yours created. this friend who might have been something more in a life way beyond this year and century but as your heart beats in a melody casted by the Muses themselves it pirouettes with the cupid bow lights dancing in Andy’s pools of hopeless paradise. it’s all enough for you to lace your fingers with his-which you do- and wish for something else to spread against your lips besides the cake you both will cut in a minute after you blow your candles.

the words below your cupid struck glance read Happy Birthday Y/n in the divine candlelight, a squeeze of his hand only encourages the rapid pace of your heart to jump and for you to swallow your hesitance. a very same feeling floods Andy’s insides but for the past minutes just sitting directly on the table, lighting your candles and enjoying the meteor shower, he hasn’t kept his promise to himself.

a promise he made for himself since the beginning of today when he discovered how his palms sweat when you neared him and how his heart warmed when you spoke his name and how his soul just sang a different song when you took his hand.

he should say something now, he should tell you how much you mean to him in this different roseate light. maybe you’ll say the same words back and maybe with the rush of the rose glasses besides you both one thing may lead to another but what comes out of his mouth makes him bite his tongue. “I hate to break it to you but wax is getting on the cake,”

those words snap you out of your amour aura, eyes fluttering for a second and smiling afterwards when you see Andy fidgeting with the crystal glass in his large hands. cheeks reddening like ripe strawberries glowing in the warmth of spring, it radiates the space between you both and with an almost whisper to your name he has your hands in his soft palms. “what do you wish for y/n?”

the question makes you swallow the raspberry rose laced lump in your throat. the love potion for an innocent drink still glistens in your glass that rests beside your body but it would spill if you would do the simple action your heart has been caressing your mind to just pull his collar down to smash his lips against yours.

to feel the tender roughness of his bearded cheeks in your palms and his lips molded along with yours in a kiss that would put all sculptured lovers to shame. it’s making you sink and float at the same time but the sparking second that Andy leans down you oblige.

“i’m sorry for not realizing it all those years,” it makes your brows scrunch in slight confusion at the confusion, his cool apricot breath wafting and twinning with your airy exhale when his nose grazes against yours. the heat of the candles underneath your close faces, you raise your hand to cup his face.

“realizing what?” its then did the breath escape your lungs and your heart to stop beating.

seeing her open her eyes the very morning brought a different comfort than to watch her sleep- it was a normal thing to wake up but to experience her lashes fluttering to life to reveal the life in her sun speckled eyes was something for Andy. she rolled over, burying her face in the crispness of white sheets with a lazy grin.

through the honeycomb glass of the white portiéres of the hotel room, the soft sunshine of the province morning streams in and lights the bedchamber. the melodic sound of birdsong and light chatter slowly rouses her awake. Andy is seated in front of the swan feathered colored vanity, combing his hair and keeping the time on track on his watch.

the man had loads planned for you both today, a day planned for you both to be bone tired at the end but still reflecting on the memories and experiences once you laid your head to rest to sleep when it was over. the tapping rhythm of his polished tar black dress shoes fills the room, making you part open your eyelids to see who’s disrupting your peaceful second slumber.

“morning sleeping beauty, happy birthday,” he almost sing-songs, a slight whistle in his voice completely overtaking any fiber of drowsy and sleep riddance that enveloped your mind and body.

“morning Andy and thank you,” you grin with your porcelain smile, stretching your arms while simultaneously lifting your sunkissed legs. arching your back in a firm crane, yearning a deep yawn from you as you savour the sunshine on your ankles and naked shoulders.

“so I have a few things planned today but I thought it would be best to eat breakfast out at the cafe we talked about instead of ordering room service. what do you think?” his eyes focused on you in the mirror and you have no choice but to glance back with your remark weighing on your tongue.

so after a smile that was more than enough to let your childhood friend know that you were along with him for the ride you found yourself ready for your special day. a slightly puffed sleeve and flowy mint green sundress adorns your bodice softly, making you radiant in the morning sun that appears to be a glowing lemon slice across the cloudless skies.

arms securely wrap around Andy’s waist as he guides the scooter the same color of the sparkling sea and reflecting powdered blue vault above. hanging on to him as he brings you both to the tiny yet timeless cafe near the roaring pier of crashing waves and ancient cobblestone streets. the bouquet of large sunflowers that were tenderly hugged tightly between both your bodies are now free in your hold. their sunshine yellow petals sway in the morning breeze and take in the virtuous sunshine that rains in golden streaks on this magical day.

taking your seat near one of the outdoor tables, shaded by the umbrella the same color as the satin banner you both order your first meal as the waiter set your beginning entry of cheese, grapes, croissants and wine on a pine wood board in between you two. street cars come and go, along with passing people looking for special sites of eternal Athens Greece. the ocean bringing a calm sea mist breeze that only adds onto the refreshing and ecstatic tangibility seizing your atoms yet as you both talk about the plans you have for today.

although the words of the waiter coming to refill your tall glasses breaks both an uncontrollable smile and laugh between you both. “couples get a discount,” he spoke and you both had a dime for when you both were mistaken for a couple you’d be swimming in a sea as large as the one that captures your irises and heart.

with his confusion Andy quickly nods along, “yes we’d take that discount thank you,” and the waiter smiles back as he steps away after filling your glasses and informing you about your meal which you both thank back.

“Andy I thought we weren’t gonna take advantage of discounts by pretending we’re a couple anymore,” you broke with a raised brow and Andy only rolled his eyes in any way that wouldn’t ever be taken seriously by anyone despite his job disposition.

“awe come on y/n let's relive old times! do you wanna pay full price when we’ve been doing this for years?” Andy looked at you through a playful demeanor that you only recognize when he’s concocting and getting away with something as seemingly harmless as this.

“i’m not really fond of the backlash when it backfires on us in the end,” you speak as you bite into a butter croissant, the rich pastry practically melting on your tongue. “also you’re making us sound like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde duo. doesn’t look good with that attorney license of yours Barber,” you laugh as you return the same eye roll back as you sit up with your glass in hand.

“remember when I booked us a reservation at that restaurant when we were in college and I freaked out over the bill? I ‘proposed’ to you and once everyone cooed and congratulated us we got our bill cut in half-”

“and I nearly kicked your ass afterwards, yeah Andy my foot is remembering the loss,” you intervene which makes Andy shake with loud laughter enough to make all the other pairs -real couples instead of you sly imposters- stop from their conversations to glance at you two breaking into hysterics whilst eating green grapes and sipping on white wine.

“to be fair we were broke college students! money was tight as hell back then but I didn’t see you complain when I got on my knees and put a ring on your finger. I thought the rhinestone looked very good with your dress that night,” popping a grape in his mouth with a humorous smirk etched on his lips.

“i’m sure you were looking forward to saying that when you gave me a kinder surprise from a candy machine.” rolling your eyes as you bite into another golden croissant, pairing it along with a nibble of creamy cheese that taste heavenly on your tongue.

“alright you can hold that against me I still deserve it,” Andy still remembers the other students in his seminar congratulating him and some who didn’t know about his engagement and divorce to Laurie still believe he’s engaged to you. it was funny and seems like something straight out of the cheesy rom coms he and you used to binge together as bored high schoolers.

that you and him used to scoff and egg on the oblivious main protagonists to just kiss and push away the denial to just be together but amongst all these couples in the morning light at this café it’s you two reliving your movie annoyances. it was hilarious and unfortunately ironic but Andy Barber didn’t see anything or comprehend the knot in your stomach when you took his hand and said something he couldn’t quite hear.

all he was paying attention to in the slow-motion picturesque of your gleaming smile, the sparkle in your deep lashy eyes and how your lips moved so theatrically as you spoke his name.

Andy, Andy, Andy

eyes glossing over in wonder, it was possibly the prettiest thing he’s seen and he’d wish to hear you say his name one more time. heart yearning to just catch your lips movement yet as his mind wedges himself back into reality he finally catches what you’ve been saying.

“Andy our food is here,” you said as the waiter came with your large glass plates of oven baked pizzas. the comforting rich smell of toasted cherry tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and freshly baked dough fill his nostrils. it's enough to cover the lush sweetness of your Dior perfume he loved taking a whiff of when you'd lean over the table to sneakily reach for his grapes and croissants.

“um, yeah thanks for the heads up,” he spoke in almost a broken sense of charisma compared to his boyish behavior minutes ago but it’s just now that’s Andy denying the feeling-

the seed of amorous that had been planted in his heart a long ago that’s beginning to sprout now.

after roaming the creaky wooden piers with the sunshine twining divinely against your hair and every inch of revealed baby soft skin. a clementine in his hands and an apricot in yours, feeding the peels to the doves that rest besides the ancient stools as Andy give hands you cardinal slice after citrusy cardinal slice.

dangling both your legs over the docks and enjoying the way the rippling waves brushed against your curling toes. sweet orange and apricot filling your mouths like the sun spreading its orange and blush provenance across the aqua waters. lonely fingers fondle with your citrus fruits that you bought with wo shiny coins from a passing vender in a straw sunhat.

savoring the ocean blue and the sunny sky revealing the cotton white clouds that dot like dollops of whipping cream upon it. the sea breeze dancing with strand hairs, the topic of a greenhouse visit sparks and a sense of adventure rushes though bloodstream. within a matter of seconds you both race to hop back on the forget-me-not scooter.

inciting a school children challenge on who’s going to get there first and with the swiftness of putting your sandals back on and running against the mossy and dandelion cracked cobblestone had you seated on the bike. “I win,” you grin and of course Andy just gives you a fauxly hurt demeanor.

“you cheated,” you only hum back at his petty exchange, playing along for his sentiment until he sighs in his defeat. with the engine starting off you and him race to the glass palace that is the greenhouse.

a golden rimmed and sea mist colored empire, it stood out to you when touring the tiny city of colorful roof houses and marketplaces. mossy vines and leafy thorned shrubbery beautifully frame the interior pillars as rich golden sunlight fill in the glassy castle. cement molds create the railing for the lily pad and swan lotuses of the man made ponds. an occasional jasmine frog leaps from pad to pad as the milky pink and yellow koi’s swim about in the shadowy water.

exotic trees and wild plants bunch throughout the establishment, creating shade against the Apollo’s heavy rays as Andy lifts his head to marvel these large and tall works of Artemis. of course, with your polaroid camera you found in the rummage of your closet (that you haven't used since senior year of college) in a tight hold. wandering feet walk through the limestone pavement of the greenhouse, a sunflower in your hair that brightens the deep greens succulents and rich browns tree bark.

the vines of soft pink and purple flowers dangling from the glassy dome roof fall their baby pink petals as a breeze presents itself. some already settling in the brown tawny of Andy's hair, not far behind you smile at your face glossed in wonderstruck marvel. wide honey brown pools trail up the ten foot marble and ivory statue, reflecting in serenity cosmoses from the rainbows that spread from the crystal glass.

a sense of desire takes ahold of you as your slowed hands lift to trace your dark fingertips through the crinkle wrinkle of a marble maidens skirt. such detail and intricate design of the craftsman long ago must’ve took years to perfect, the cloth falling seamlessly upon the maidens body as her body crouches to run your clay hand again at the pond water. lifting your camera to your eyes, snapping your desired pictures that are set to capture all the whimsical aspects and elements that take your breath away.

Andy dares to draw near, it wasn’t like he hasn’t stood close to you at all- he might be making it hard on himself by overthinking ever move and step but you call out his name and his heart paces.

“yes y/n,” making his way to where you sit near a pond, you don’t say anything as you wrap the strap for the camera around your neck. fixing up your dress from any wrinkles from scrunching the hem up when dipping your feet in the sea earlier. checking your hair and make up in your hand mirror that you retrieved from your designer purse. an arched brow raises up at you, which you only respond by rolling your eyes and hand him the camera as you smile at yourself in the reflection of the ponds water.

“can you take a picture of me?” as you reapply another layer of gloss on your lips, the fishes swirling in the water to jump to the service to witness the beautiful nymph who have graced their pond themselves.

cupid bows perk at the fish and blow them kisses, your hands grab at a floating lotus before grasping the tender water blossom. putting it in the raven coils that delicately frame your face, damn it y/n.

it was as if you were torturing him with those mascara bambi eyes and glossy primrose lips, it makes his insides buzz and flutter like the malachite dragonfly that passes here and there.

“you telling me you want a picture or did you already decide for me yourself?” you only smack his chest with the camera once again.

“are you going to take the picture or not Barber? did you loose some of your magic with all that lawyer jumbo clouding your head or did you take those freshman photography lessons seriously?”

Andy rolls his eyes and takes the camera from you with a chuckle, “actually i’m still capable of using a camera y/l/n, god you’re making me feel old. go model for me,” you just laugh and run across to the other side of the pond.

soft skin from your legs revealed from the way your sundress lifts bends against your chest. head resting upon your knees while your arms wrap around them, the sunflower in your gasps and the lotus behind your ear. at this moment as the seconds turn into minutes Andy should be taking pictures, his eyes are looking through the lens as his index finger rests on the button.

with as much as single press he captures the greenhouse nymph but what good would a single picture do to capture every gift and grace you bestowed in the offering of your charm, beauty and heart?

it makes Andy's heart race, your eyes dashing from the godly statues that surround you to the camera. sweet music plays in deep cherry wood cellos and willow carved violins and even with the buzzing dragonfly it seems it found its favorite flower at the tip of your nose.

you certainly are the creation and waking of spring flowers and lovesick tales that took his heart then and its still yours now.

that single snapshot was all he could think about you two drove down south to the coast. searching back the drunk nights before where you and him ran into a little covelete whilst drinking goblet after goblet in the forest of olive and grape vine trees. it was a long ride but nothing suited the wait better than the man on the radio singing with his strung trichordo.

the hands that grip Andy's shoulder slide down to wrap your arms around him tightly when the minutes pass and the forest of green olives and sangiovese grapes. parking the scooter near the shrubbery of some innocent bush you and him look for the wine stash the both of you left in the abandoned cavern of an ancient olive tree. Andy grinning as he grabbed the expansive bottle and before you know it you both head to the hidden beach.

Andy didn't plan to actually go swimming, just settle the gingham blanket upon the finely grain sand and open the picnic you both prepared. and he also didn't prepare himself for the rosy blush to dawn his face when your almond nails grip the hem of your sundress to lift it up and over your head. revealing your matching bathing suit underneath its quick that you throw him a wink and race to the nearby grassy cliff.

"see you soon Barber!" you yell and as Andy gets up from the blanket to understand what you mean by that its too late. the summer air is filled with your laughter and sky rippling cheer as you jump off the cliff and dive into the cloud blue water. the splash nonexistent from your perfect swoop.

if only he had the polaroid on him to capture the way your smile gleamed brighter than the sun reflecting off the sparkling water the the way your eyes cutely scrunched like sand dollars under the warmth of golden sand.

the silver green of the olive trees emphasize the richness of your skin. the rich skin he couldn't keep his sapphires off as you laugh your choir laugh that would make Apollo cease his chariot to listen to the siren of Olympus once more. dancing in the turquoise waves of the coast, they crash against your soft mounds, curves, and dips of sun glistening hips and waist.

how could he have been so blind?

rage and anguish slosh around in his mind that pour melancholic rain onto his heart, you were there for him through thick and thin. a friend he believed but how could he have buried that yearn and longing for you all those years?

it's almost criminal to the highest degree and he'd know his side of the justice system but how could that distract him from you? his head was far too buried in those lawbooks to realize, too oblivious to his emotions when you'd date and hang around other people that weren't him. looking far into the looking glass hoping that his work would pay off in the future, meeting another woman and putting a ring on her finger.

now here he is, a divorced man but a still very much happy man. lonely at times with his only child in the custody of his ex wife but still very happy with the comfort and support of you. it was you who helped him from the tears at night and it was you who he wasn't scared to open up to. even the past few months he didn't realize it but now as you call his name to get in the water he doesn't hesitate to pull his shirt over his head and take his shoes and socks off.

joining you in the water in a mater of a few heartbeats, it was as if you were a sea spirit calling for him and even if you weren't he's happily obliging when the small waves collide against his skin. both your laughs rippling the ocean in this small ocean paradise, swimming in the richness of the present never would have guessing that throughout all these years you be here.

the salt water on your skin has dried as you and Andy walk side by side, your shoes rubbing against the gravel of the cobblestone paths as both you peer at the vendors and food stands arranging from rainbow scaled fish, fresh sesame seed breads, farm produced milks and cheeses, and vibrate fruits and vegetables. hands twined together in a firm hold, unfathomable excitement practically radiating off of you while you chat and giggle with Andy.

the topic of the conversation changing every few minutes when you find a stand that grabs your attention. curious eyes and wandering hands look over organic produce and homemade goods the people had to offer. the golden clutch of your purse being opened multiple times and Andy's mouth being stuffed with jam, cheese and fruit samples on the account of you. as you did you shopping he did as well, the ingredients for a sweet treat he had planned for you later on tonight are in a brown paper bag amongst your purchases.

of course he had to carry them all, not in obligation but because he didn’t want you to worry about shopping too much when you’re in the midst of enjoying your vacation. by all means he certainly wasn’t complaining, if anything he liked having you giddy and bursting with energy. practically dragging him from stand to stand and carrying your bags filled with stuff that you’d bring back home and try.

the village square where the marketplace takes place is tinted in an ambrosial hue, the sun now a glowing slice of grapefruit against the peachy pink carnation sky. lavender clouds that seem so close to grasp tower above you both yet they don't prevent the suns glow from capturing the beautiful soft planes of your face.

luscious and softer than the bouquet of sunflower carnations he surprised you with as you looked at the variety of sunhat options. one that you just purchased rests floppily against your temple but still doing its job at keeping you shaded from the suns glare. wrapped in a silky green bow, Andy smiles at how huge it is but it just makes you look divine and adorable in your sundress.

holding his hand tighter before tracing them up his forearm to softly grasp his bicep, it you who's leaning against him and pulling him close to you. the feeling of your body alongside his is warmer then any sunshine that seeps into his skin and lovelier than any of the flowers the market had to offer.

it’s hard to give you one excellent gift to give back all those years of commitment and loyalty and friendship but the way your lips spread in that enchanting smile it’s enough to make Andy know -despite the both of you not saying it- that you feel the same way to.

the bouquet in both your holds lifting up every once in a while for Andy to smell and for you to admire as you walk away from the noisy market. a little behind the village were the spring green of the countryside clashes within the stone brick city is a valley of flower arbors and hedge mazes. it was the last pitstop Andy the bags in both your hands settle down against the safety shadow of a maple trees shade and with a little laugh and an excited squeal he run to the flower arbors.

green rows of soft shrubbery dotted and laced in colorful blossoms stand in multiple rows upon rows look over of petunias and carnations. small apple and lemon trees in potted beds line up within the flowery hedges and no matter where you look it’s only the divination of spring and the gifts it bestows the Earth with. wooden picnic basket that was once used from your beach picnic is now empty but it’s quickly filling with the sweet smelling beauties of the flowers and fruits and you pluck.

Andy not fair behind you captures your wondering body in the still frame pictures of your polaroid camera. the pictures emerging quickly afterwards, he’s quick to fab them off and place them in your small picture album. turning your head over your shoulder your caught with Andy having the perfect opportunity to snap a picture that would be a bedtime story to tell with a child of his and yours.

it’s perfect and breathtaking, no matter the feeling of his heart thumping in its lingering hesitance you were the star that’s still continues to shine despite being out in broad daylight. it pulled at his heart strings because he knew what this feeling was, this feeling that he been avoiding to come to terms with all day but why was he so terrified?

the fear of rejection wouldn’t burst his heart but it would remind him that he was alone. a man like him wasn’t born to walk this Earth, wake to the sun and sleep with moon alone. the very presence of you besides him made him feel all the things besides lonely and bare to the universes cruelness at times. but maybe you felt the same way about him.

he only had one way to find out and he was set on keeping it, whatever sea he had to cross, valley he had to travel to and the plummeting ends to the Earth he will pronounce his love.

snapping another picture of you, you smile in it and with that he smiles to.

"realize what Andy?" you press on but in the rosy candle light his lips pressed against yours seems to be the only answer he can bring himself to conclude.

it's takes the breath out of your lungs and makes your heart blush and burn deeper and hotter than the tiny flames that decorate the cake. the roughness of his bottom lip that have been occasionally bitten the past minutes of dancing around your feelings. the nerve of you both to push aside your feelings for each other because the fear of breaking each others hearts.

if only your past selves could see you now, shedding your hearts and allowing the key to them to finally open the gates of vulnerability and yearn. the passionate lovesick mess tastes delicious against your mouths and you both could get drunk off it instead of the rose. sweet and inching for more as your lips part to graze against each other, but in order to seal the prophecy of established lovers Andy pulls away.

"that i'm in love with you. that i've always been in love with you. it's been years and i'm sorry for just realizing it now but I need to know if you feel the same way. please tell me now, please," he whispers against your lips.

now its your turn for our heart to skip beats and take in each and everyone of his words. fluttering eyes drowning in his copper blues, you open your mouth to say something but nothing but a soundless nothing comes out. all these years your love for Andy has been buried deep within you and you've tried your best to hide that seed. to plow in new seeds because what use was that seed if it never flourished when he'd feel the same way.

you don't realize until you feel the tear dripping down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb. pressing a kiss where it once existed and it's now that you realize that it's always come to this. your lives weren't entirely paved in stone but the love that has a faith of its own is something that changes as the pages of a storybook turn.

this virtuous night being the newest chapter and as much as you're scared to follow along your heart has been waiting for this moment for so long. with those teary eyes that bring some to his own you smile and pull his face with yours, pressing your lips with his to mark your answer clear, to make him feel the way you feel.

"i've always felt the same. dear god Barber it took you twenty years and it all worked out didn't it?" you giggle against his mouth, feeling his grin as he kisses you back.

"what did you wish for?" he murmurs and you only smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "this,"

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}

@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡

Also This Concept

A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.

----

When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over.

But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen.

Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.

When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.

He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.

By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.

It’s met with... confusion.

Really?

It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown.

“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.

“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”

“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties.

“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending.

“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.

As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.

“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation.

“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence

You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public.

The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.

“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.

You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album.

And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -

“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was.

“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.

“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.

Rook calls your name.

You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.

As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -

“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone.

After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.

“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong.

While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.

You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.

Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired.

People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.

“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room.

Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.

The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness.

At that, he pauses.

“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.

“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”

“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back.

“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”

“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.

That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.

This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.

My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.

And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.

But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss.

And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.

So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.

Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.

The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it.

“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.

“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time.

“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.

“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter.

Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop.

“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head.

“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”

“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed.

With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him.

“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.

And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.

But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.

You make him feel safe.

And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too.

He wants to be better for you.

Which is kind of terrifying to consider.

“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.

“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.

Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.

#mgk #machine gun kelly #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk imagine #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #rook xx #douglas booth #daniel webber #iwan rheon #the angry lizard writes

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holycatsandrabbits · 3 years

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Love's Endless Light

A Good Omens serial romance

READ FROM THE BEGINNING: You are here! NEXT

Chapter 1: Calm Every Fear

2007 BC, Crete

The first time a human tried to warn Aziraphale about Crawly, Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Aziraphale’s favorite perk about being stationed on Earth was that he got to meet so many humans. Aziraphale made friends easily, perhaps because humans were drawn to the angelic aura he gave off. That might explain why humans sometimes didn’t care for Crawly— or maybe, Aziraphale mused, watching Crawly’s human legs morph into a six-foot-long snake tail on the beach in broad daylight, it was because he tended to do that.

One of Aziraphale’s human friends grasped his arm and started tugging him away. “It’s a monster!” he cried. “Run!”

“Yes, you should run,” Aziraphale advised him. “I’m going to— to check the beach for anyone else.”

The man looked at him with fear in his eyes. “No, come with us! It’s too dangerous!”

Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure how to explain to a human that a Naga demon was still just a demon, and therefore quite inferior to an angel of the Lord. “I’ll be right behind you,” he promised, and when Crawly made a loud snarling noise, the human dropped Aziraphale’s arm and fled.

There was a splashing sound, and Aziraphale turned to find Crawly amid the breakers, salt water waves crashing over his hips and tail, turning the ends of his long scarlet hair dark against his pale skin. Crawly was— Aziraphale could never deny this— quite surprisingly attractive for a demon, with a lithe form that moved in a fascinating serpentine manner whether he wore legs or not.

Well, usually. Right now Crawly was romping about wildly in the waves with a silly grin on his face. It faded the instant he noticed Aziraphale standing on the beach. “Oh,” he said, with a tremor of anxiety in his voice. “It’s you.”

“It is,” Aziraphale confirmed. “So if you were planning to eat any humans, I’m afraid—”

Crawly made a shocked noise. “Eat— are you serious? When’s the last time I ate a human?”

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know.”

“Never!”

“Then what are you doing? Why have you—” Aziraphale waved a hand in Crawly’s general direction.

Crawly looked down at himself, as if he had forgotten that at the moment he was a very large monster. “Wanted to go for a swim,” he said. “Didn’t feel like sharing the beach.”

“You terrorized a hundred humans just so that you could swim.”

“Wasn’t a hundred,” Crawly said. His eyes kept darting from Aziraphale’s face to his hands, and Aziraphale realized that Crawly was expecting Aziraphale to be holding something— a flaming sword, most likely. “I’ll go,” Crawly said, starting to leave the water.

Aziraphale looked down at his hands, and then slowly folded them together, lacing finger against finger, leaving no room for a weapon.

Crawly watched this with a sort of hopeful bewilderment. He rested half in and half out of the waves now, against both the cold of the ocean and the heat of the sand. It was nearly noon. The sun was high, set where God Herself had placed it, and it shouldn't have been the case, Aziraphale thought, that it could shine so flatteringly on a demon, making his skin and scales glow. Just as there was no way that Crawly’s golden eyes should have always reminded Aziraphale more of that loving sun than the punishing fires of Hell.

Aziraphale approached Crawly cautiously, letting his sandals start to make tracks in the wetter sand. “Have you— how have you been? You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you for—”

“Thirty-two years,” Crawly said, and then he looked away, as if he were ashamed to know the exact number.

Aziraphale knew the number, too. As much as he adored his human friends, there was something rather comforting about being able to speak with someone who’d known you far, far longer than any human ever could.

“Been good,” Crawly said. “Well— been bad, I guess. Doing evil deeds, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Aziraphale said.

“Not eating people, though.”

“Yes. I’m sor—” Aziraphale cut himself off sharply, shocked at himself for attempting to apologize to a demon.

Crawly was staring at him, looking half-surprised and half insulted. “I’ve terrorized plenty of people,” he said.

“Of course.”

Crawly waved his hand at Aziraphale. “Suppose you’ve been doing the opposite, whatever that is. Comforting?”

“Um— yes, comforting.” Aziraphale watched as the edge of a wave reached the toe of his sandal, splashing drops of cold water onto his heated skin.

“Come for a swim,” Crawly said.

Aziraphale looked at him in shock. “What? No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am not taking a swim with a demon.”

Crawly was grinning again, and it always made Aziraphale a little unsettled to see him do that, to see him look happy. Demons shouldn’t be happy, they should always be miserable. And yet sometimes it seemed like Crawly could forget all of that, forget that his soul was damned, that there was an empty cavern in his chest where God’s love should be. Crawly could somehow focus on the moment, taking pleasure in earthly things.

Crawly’s voice fell low and mesmerizing. “It’s fun,” he said. “Innocent fun, swimming in the ocean. You’ll enjoy it.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I can tell when you’re trying to tempt me, you know. And I have told you that it doesn’t work on angels.”

Crawly looked unexpectedly delighted. “You can’t swim,” he accused. “Never learned?”

“I float,” Aziraphale said, disappointed that he sounded rather morose. “Angels, you know— we can walk on water. We— we have to walk on water. Can’t sink even if we want to.”

Crawly burst into laughter and collapsed back into the ocean, letting the waves rush around him. He put up a clawed hand to slick his hair back out of his face, and Aziraphale could not look away from him. “Angels being denied one of life’s greatest pleasures,” he exclaimed. “How poetic.”

“The light of Grace,” Aziraphale informed him, “far outweighs a dip in the sea.”

“Take your word for it,” Crawly said. “I was never much for that.”

“You—” Aziraphale felt cold inside. “You don’t miss God’s love?”

Crawly shrugged, looking away. “What would a demon want with love?”

“But it— it’s your punishment, to want what you can’t have—”

“Seems to me you’re the one who wants what he can’t have,” Crawly countered. “Can’t even go for a swim.”

Aziraphale gave him an exasperated look. “Crawly, honestly. Look, I should get back to the city. Comfort the people you frightened.” If Aziraphale expected Crawly to look remorseful for having emptied the beach, he was disappointed. Crawly looked at peace with his serpentine tail floating in the waves. “I want you gone by nightfall,” Aziraphale warned him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Crawly gave him a smile that was part sadness, almost as if he was going to miss Aziraphale, when he didn’t even miss God.

********

READ FROM THE BEGINNING: You are here!

Why a serial fic? Because I wanted to make a Tumblr comic like all the cool kids do, but I can't draw, so here it is in prose. Updates Fridays on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous Good Omens serial: Mr. Fell’s Bookshop

*********

Image text: Love’s Endless Light by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits) Chapter 1

As Aziraphale and Crowley slowly fall in love over the millennia, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale is keeping a very dangerous secret.

My Carrd

#Dannye writes #Love's Endless Light #Good Omens #tumblr serial #serial romance

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alegzandryan · 3 years

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Prepping for a Ritual

So since I am doing these things as we speak I thought I would go through some ritual things that I find useful, for anyone that feels overwhelmed or unprepared for ritual work. I know tumblr and tiktok have pushed a lot of easy jar spells on us, but there really is something more to a ritual setting, even a simple one. And as it goes without saying, this is my personal idea of a guide and everyone is entitled to their own opinion and practice.

Get your supplies ready the day before the ritual. ESPECIALLY if you are going outside/somewhere outside your home. Collect all the things you will need and put them together. This will give you a day to remember all the things you forgot before it's time, instead of in the middle of your ritual

Choose what you are going to wear the day before, too. Some people take aesthetic very seriously but others dont. Either way, give some thought to what you are wearing. Is that crystal necklace good for what you are doing? Are those pants comfortable enough to sit for 30 minutes in? Comfortability is just as important as presentation for ritual, so dont wear that corset that hurts you after 15 minutes. You will need to focus on more important things.

Foot wear is also super underrated. Are you hiking 10 minutes into the forest to find a ritual spot? Wear boots. Are you in your house and want to go barefoot? Make absolutely sure you are not going to step on a ritual tool and make yourself bleed, or curse to some gods about the existence of legos in the middle of your ritual

Make some stuff for a cleansing/power bath. I usually assemble ingredients and things day before, then go to bed, and do a quick ritual bath before the actual ritual. Steep a hair rinse or charm a fancy body wash before hand so you dont have to focus on that spell, too.

Do a tarot reading/your preferred divination, before bed the day before you do a ritual. It can be quick or extensive, it doesnt matter. But it can be good to get some guidance before you are gearing up for a spell or ritual, and have some time to think about it before you are minutes away from it.

Prepare food and water, once again especially if you are going outside. Rituals can take a lot out of you depending on what you are doing, and food and drink are very easy and quick ways to help ground yourself if you are shaky or need help coming back to a relaxed state. If you are struggling, boiling pasta or microwaving stuff is the last thing on your mind, or maybe even your ability. So have some fruit snacks or granola bars or cookies or something-- easy to take and easy to eat-- with you. Trust me, this is more important than a lot of people realize. It's a good after-ritual practice and one you should be ready for

Think about your intent and purpose. Set aside some time day-before to do this, maybe 30 min to 1 hr I would say. Maybe make an entry in your BOS if you are the journaling type. This serves 2 functions: one is to charge your intent before the spell. It will give you more oomph and precision in your spell casting, or more prepared behavior if you are speaking to gods. Think about what you want to ask them, what you want them to know, how much respect you should give them, or what they may ask of you. What are you willing to do for them, and what are you not?

The second function is that it gives you time to back out of something. Not all spells are meant to be cast, and especially not if you are in a high emotion before it. Give yourself a day to prepare, an hour to think over, why am I doing this? SHOULD I be doing this even? There is nothing wrong with changing your mind. Doing things impulsively in magic isn't typically beneficial to the caster most of the time. Think through potential consequences, too. How could it back fire? How could it go right but in the wrong way? Is there a better way to get what you want? Can you add a caveat, or a time limit on the spell? Are you using parts of a closed practice and not really thought about it before now?

If you are doing spell work in the out-of-your-house-space-land, even if it is just like, in your appartment parking lot, the park down the street or even your own backyard, make sure someone somewhere knows about it. I know not everyone is out of the broom closet, but even if you just have to tell your friends you are stargazing or something, make sure SOMEONE knows and has a check in time for you. There are creeps and terrible people everywhere, and not to spook anybody, but doing magic can often attract animals or any assortment of beings who want to watch/investigate you. I have been given a heart attack by a baby antelope at dawn before. I have also been given a heart attack by a forest spirit asking wtf I was doing there. I know it doesnt exactly feel witchy to have your cellphone crammed in your waistband, but trust me, better safe than sorry. Be it humans or otherwise, doing magic in the dark in total secret is just not realistic to your safety. Take someone with you and have them wait in the car or around the corner if you can. Once again, make sure someone, somewhere, has a set time to call or come get you in, incase you get kidnapped or fae-napped. Your wellbeing is a much higher priority than any magic spell.

Also familiarize yourself with nearby wildlife. Even if you are in the city, check out what raccoon eyes look like in flashlight, or maybe if your suburb is prone to stray cats or dogs. Check out a rabies registry as well, so you know what kind of risk you are looking at around such animals. Rabid animals are actually more prone to being unafraid of human contact and will readily let a person touch them. Do NOT interact with wild animals. No, they are not a sign or a gift from your god. Most animals are curious about magic in general, but that doesnt make them not wild. Do not interact. If you are in a less populated space, you should also check out what kind of wild life is native to your area and how dangerous they are. Deer will startle themselves into you like getting hit by a BMW and bears and cougars can be active day or night, as well as Bobcats, snakes, or coyotes. Check out your local wildlife center for advice on how to handle what lives in your area

(Last outdoors advice, I promise) also check out what kind of myths and legends existed on the land you are on, ESPECIALLY if you live in north america. Knowing who's land you are on should be important to your practice anyway, and knowing what kind of creatures may be out there may save you some distress later. Indigenous cultures should be respected, and their tales can tell you what's around your area. And I dont care where the hell you live, if you hear whistling in the darkness/forests, it is one of several things coming to get you and none of them are good. Get gone and DONT whistle back. Or at all. No whistling guys. Bad.

For indoor rituals, make sure you wont be disturbed. Much like meditation, rituals are very dependent on focus and intent. Interruptions can mess with your outcome.

More indoor advice, checkout your lighting and ventilation well before you do your ritual. For instance, my altar is in a walk in closet-- there is no way in hell I am burning 4 candles and an incense in that room. I would have to do it in my living room or bedroom where there are windows, or find a way to eliminate the candles. Is the room dark enough to fit your ritual? Is it light enough that you can read your notes? (also make notes/write up a copy of the spell, it helps so much) Make sure you have enough light to see what you are doing properly.

I am a big advocate of "do not over cleanse your life, stop over cleansing" however, if that is something you do a lot of, make sure all your tools and whatnot are cleansed and prepared day before. You can shave a 2hr ritual down to 30 min if you get all of your prep work done day before, which is nice. And it once again gives you time to say "shit I forgot that one thing I need to cleanse" an hour later and still not interrupt your ritual because it is day before.

If you are an of-legal-age type person and doing some drug/alcohol part of your magic, make double sure you have food, water, and a buddy system. You may not need a designated driver if you aren't going out of your house, but you still need a designated sober person to make sure you dont like, astral travel out of your body and get replaced with a pod person, or get hurt trying to cast a circle with a ritual knife while high. Know your limits well before you use them in ritual and, I cannot emphasize this enough, have a friend to keep you under scrutiny incase something goes wrong and you need help.

If you are having the OTHER kind of must-be-of-age type of ritual, be sure your partner is well informed. Maybe have a dress rehearsal so you are both on the same page about mechanics and consent. Speed run through the general timing and motions, and talk about what each of you expect to get out of the ritual. Is it for bonding? Or are you using the energy to try to charge something? Is it for fertility? Are you both good to have ritualized sex (I know that seems like an obvious question, but you would be surprised by how many partners clam up about sexual things to try to not disappoint their partner). If you are a witch and your partner is not, be sure they know what to expect, and that they 100% want to do it even though it's not necessarily their practice and not just to be a people pleaser. If you havent done anything like this before either, tell them that, too. Honestly is 100% required here

And lastly, keep your cool. It's easy to get over excited or over anxious about this kind of thing, but honestly with a little prep time you have a high change of doing awesome. And even if you dont? That's okay too. Everyone makes mistakes, we all learn from those mistakes, and every single experience you acquire will level you up until you are the best at being you. Do what feels right, trust your gut, do some reading, and keep calm and witchy on.

#witchblr #ritual #ritual work #spell #spell work #witch tips #ritual prep #witch advice #chaos witch #eclectic paganism #wicca #diety work #diety ritual #witchcraft #chaos witchcraft #solitary witch #solitary witchcraft

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srose-foxfire · 3 years

Text

“First Impressions” Part: 6 (Finale) Damirae Pic

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

A/N: Hello Everyone. We finally made it to the finale of “First Impressions” I wanna thank you all for being with me and following along with this fic. This started out as a one-shot but after writing part 1; I couldn’t just stay there and decided to make it into a longer fic. I hoped you enjoy it thus far. This part in particular is longer than the other parts.

I would also like to take the time and wishing Happy Birthday / Belated Birthday to @ravenfan1242 . I wanna personally say thank you so much for all the support you give to artists and writers, like myself in the Damirae community. You may not know this, but you were my very fist commenter on my very first Damirae fic I had written when I first joined tumblr. Your words cheered me right up and gave me the confidence I needed to continue writing. I hope you enjoy this small gift from me. Thank you.

Without further ado, enjoy the story!

~ Simona R.

-- -- --

Part: 6

Where in his right mind did Damian think this was a good idea? He stood in front of his bathroom mirror and looked at the ‘work of art’ his sisters and Raven had done on him. Layers of foundation, contour, and highlight were plastered all over his face. His eyes were covered in a golden-brown eyeshadow, the girls then added some golden shimmer over it. Cass went ahead and nearly poked his eyes out when she used a liquid eyeliner to create a cat-eye look over his eyes. Stephanie was adding a light peach blush onto Damian’s cheeks. As for Raven who looked like she was actually enjoying torturing him, finished his ‘look’ with a dark purple matte liquid lipstick.

When he saw Cass grabbing her phone, Damian made a run for the door and dashed towards his bedroom. Damian touched his cheek, debating the choices he made that ended him looking like this. He turned on the faucet with warm running water and soaked a hand towel in it. Damian then started scrubbing his face clean; he looked hideous. The make-up wasn’t coming off easily and instead was smudging across his face, why did girls enjoy this, Damian had to wonder. He felt dirty and his face felt thick and tight from all the stuff that was plaster onto his face. Damian turned the water off and threw the hand towel in the sink. Lost in thought. He could had just said no, but he didn’t.

-- -- --

A few minutes earlier Damian had stood outside of Cass’s room when Raven entered to confess, she made up Jasper Sky. One may call him a stalker for leaning against the doorway, but Damian was there for Raven’s sake. He had promised to be there in case the confession had gone bad. Cass’s bedroom became extremely quiet, Damian couldn’t make out words anymore. He concentrated and heard a soft cry. Panicked and worry made him throw the door open to find his sisters hugging Raven, while Raven cried happily in their arms.

His sisters shocked at his outburst both cursed and questioned him what he was doing. Damian shot a quick glance towards Raven who was starting to flush. His sisters didn’t know the promise he had made to Raven. In order to save them both from being interrogated by his sisters, Damian had to come up with a quick plan. The first and only thing that popped in Damian’s mind was “I would like to try that make-over!”

-- -- --

Damian exited his bathroom and tirelessly fell onto his bed. He looked up to the ceiling and watch his ceiling fan just spun. At some point the girls would need to eat, Damian thought. Which would give him a chance to sneak into Cass’s room and take some facial cleansing wipes to clean his face. He should had been more patient and waited for Raven to come out, but the thought of her crying only terrified him greatly. He never wanted to see her cry or be scared, but even he could never stop that. But Damian hope he could be the one to bring Raven comfort, if she allowed him.

Damian’s thoughts were interrupted when someone was heard knocking onto his bedroom door. He turned his head towards the sound and contemplated if he should even open it. If it was one of his older brothers and found him in the state he was in, they would make Damian the laughing stalk of his family till he died. Though Damian rather die if it turned out either his father or Alfred ever saw him in his ridiculous state. How did the heir to Wayne Enterprises come to this? The knocking continued as Damian thought of the last person he would want to see. Cass. Damian knew very well, out of all his siblings, Cass has the largest following in her social media. What if she was trying to take a picture and post it to the whole world?! Worse she was actually coming to get him and drag him back to her room so they could add more cosmetics?

Please no more. What more could they possible add? The door was now being banged and each knocked sounded more frantic than the next. Damian groined into his hands, got up and walked towards his door. “Damn it Cass, enough is enough. I am not going back out there.”

“Actually, it’s me Damian.”Upon hearing her voice, Damian immediately unlocked his door and opened to find Raven holding some facial wipes and a few bottles, which he presumed to be used to remove cosmetics. “I brought some stuff to help clean your face.” She said softly.

Damian lifted a brow and then peek through the doorway before retuning his gaze to her. “It’s just you right? The she-devils aren’t near?”

“She-devils? Your sisters? Damian that’s mean and no they’re busy applying each other a facial mask.”

“Come in.”

Very timidly Raven walked into his room as Damian closed the door behind him. Damian continued to study her as she carefully walked like a frightened doe. What was she so afraid of him? Did she think he be upset with her over the make-over? Then he came to a realization, this was the first time Raven had entered his room. Every time she came over to the manor, the only places he would find her was in Cass’s room, the manor’s library, and the kitchen. Damian had never once invited her to his room.

As Damian continue to think of what he could say to comfort Raven in this most awkward situation, Raven had cleared her throat. “Where would you like to sit?” She asked very shyly.

Damian looked around his room and wished his desk had two chairs instead of one. He walked past her and sat down on the thick carpet, reclining against his bed. Raven followed him and bended down to her knees, she carefully placed the box of facial wipes in front of her and laid a few bottles next to them. She pulled out a wipe and carefully started rubbing his left cheek.

At first Damian tried keeping his gaze towards the carpet floor and count each thread. But his will betray him, he would catch himself side-glancing towards Raven as she carefully continues to clean his face. Afraid he would be caught; Damian closed his eyes and focused on how soft she was being with him. It felt like a massage and the tense knots he had in his face loosened under her touch. Damian leaned his head back against his bed and let out a deep sigh.

“So, my sisters forgave you, correct?”

“They did. Is as you said, they don’t hold grudges though they wanted a complete explanation on why I had to come up with Jasper Sky.”

“Like what?”

“Well I told them something specifically, and with that they backed down.” Raven carefully rubbed his brows clean. The room then became quiet and the only sound heard was the rubbing on his skin.

“I’m sorry.” Raven said in the most-lowest voice possible. “You’re like this because of me and… sigh… I’m sorry.”

Raven pulled away as she threw some used wipes into one pile. Damian looked at her and noticed how some of her lashes had grouped together due to her crying earlier. Remembering how thathad made him feel. Damian looked down at her hands and without even noticing with himself wrapped his hand around hers making Raven look up into his eyes.

“Don’t be.” Damian said as he pulled Raven’s hand closer to his chest. “You have nothing to apologize for, I put myself in this situation and… I would do it again to make sure you’re alright.”

Raven looked shocked at his words. She was right to be. Though now that he revealed this to her, Damian need to tell her more and come clean of his own feelings. He took a deep breath and allowed his heart to speak, “Raven, I have fallen in love with you. My heart beats every-time I am with you, my day lights up at the mention of your name. You are the most unique and most beautiful girl I have ever met. You view the world with a sense of wonder and I would like to see it through your eyes. I-”

Damian stopped when he saw Raven’s eyes watered. What had he done? This was too much and too soon for her. He sighed, “just forget I said anything-”

Raven slammed her lips onto his, she cupped his face between her palms. She was actually squishing his face, but Damian didn’t feel any pain or didn’t knowhow to react since his brain decided not to function anymore. The poor boy was left in shock, Raven then released his face and slowly pulled away. Hiding her palms between her thighs. Her face was ridiculous flushed, but she was so beautiful, and Damian couldn’t help but stare. “I fallen in love with you too, Damian. I…I love you.”

Damian gave her a warm smile, he touched her cheek and pulled her onto his lap. Once she was settled, Raven wrapped one arm around his neck while the other stroke his check. The two youth continue to smile before both of them leaned into each other for another kiss. This kiss was slow almost as if though this kiss alone they could tell each other their true feelings and leaving themselves open to one another. They pulled and just looked at each other for what felt like an eternity.

Raven giggled in his arms as she wrapped both arms around his neck, “I actually had a crush on you since before we met.” Damian raised a brow at her as he waited for her to continue, “Your family would tell me stories about you and well I couldn’t wait to me the Damian Wayne.”

“Well lucky for me, I just hope I didn’t raise any concerns after my first impression.”

“Actually, after calming down the whole incident made you look hot. I found out just how much your father’s books meant to you and the lengths you would go to protect the people you loved. Only made the crush I had on you grow.”

Damian only smiled at her and gave her a quick peck on her temple, Raven sighed and rested her head against his chest. “Is there a way for you to sneak away from my sisters tomorrow? I would like to take you out on an official date.”

“I will let them know I won’t be available for a few hours but I’m sure they will be okay with it… they did give me their blessing to date you.”

Before Damian had a chance to ask her what she meant by that, his bedroom door was blasted open, with all his siblings coming through popping confetti poppers and Cass holding up her phone snapping a picture of them, “Damn right you have our blessing Rae, whoo welcome to the family, sister!”

#damirae #damiraefic #Damian Wayne #raven roth #raven and damian #dc damian #dc raven #first impressions #DC Universe #dc fanfic

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helnjk · 3 years

Text

Sixth Year - D.M.

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Platonic!Blaise Zabini x fem!reader

Requested: yes

Hey if requests are open could you do a prompt#21&50 for Draco.. Could it be a bit of angst and end with fluff? Thanks!

“all you do is make empty promises” “i’m tired of your lies”

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: 6th year with Draco isn’t turning out how you expected it to be.

A/N: ok 1, i wanted to try writing angst (pls give comments/reviews!! i wanna know how i did) & 2, other than the request, i kind of based this off of one of my fav tiktok acct’s shifting stories aksjdhsadh you can find her here ! i love her tiktoks and she’s what got me into shifting LMAO but anyway ! let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist ! enjoy xx

THIS IS A REPOST BC I THINK TUMBLR DID ME DIRTY WITH THE TAGS

Prompts are in bold

—

Eighth. This was the eighth night you had stayed up until god knows what hour waiting for Draco to show up.

The moon was high in the sky by the time you realized he wasn’t coming yet again. The biting wind rushed past you as you tried to gather as much warmth as possible from the jacket you brought up to the Astronomy tower. Your breath came out in short puffs, white wisps trailing from your mouth out into the chilly night.

With one last glance at the midnight stained grounds, the only light emanating from the moon above, you wrapped your jacket tighter around your body and turned to make it down the stairs. It was a long trek to the Slytherin dorms, which gave your mind more time to spiral. This meant fighting back the prick of tears at the back of your eyes by the time you had reached the dungeons.

The next morning, you found yourself at the Slytherin table barely able to keep your eyes open. You hadn’t gotten much sleep, your mind refusing to stop running the different scenarios with which you imagined Draco must have gotten into causing him to forget your rescheduled plans.

“Y/N?” Blaise’s voice startled you into opening your eyes, having nodded off, leant against your palm.

“Huh?” You murmured, trying to blink the sleep from your eyes, “Sorry did you say something?”

“You alright? You look like you could just drop dead any second,” His eyes scanned yours worriedly, shifting closer to you so that you could have something to lean on.

“Gee thanks Blaise,” A sarcastic drawl came out of your lips, “Just tired. I was up late last night at the Astronomy tower waiting for Draco.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “Draco? He got to the dorms pretty early last night. Didn’t say he had anything planned with you last night.” Eyes widened at the realization of what he said and he quickly tried to back track, “I mean-That’s not-”

Despite the distinct crack you felt in your chest, you mustered up the faintest of smiles (which probably looked more like a lopsided grimace), “It’s alright, Blaise. Thanks for letting me know.”

The rest of the day passed by you in a blur.

Everyone seemed to notice the melancholy mood that you were in, everyone except for the only person you wished would pay attention.

Being in your sixth year at Hogwarts, you were excited to spend a good chunk of it with your boyfriend. After all, there were no OWLs or NEWTs to worry about (yet), so you assumed that this year would bring more time for you to spend together.

You were wrong. Clearly.

The moment you had stepped off the Hogwarts Express in September, Draco started to spend less and less time with you. It was November now and the less time you found yourself spending with him, the more you noticed that he began to keep things from you. His eyes would shift whenever you would ask him what his plans for the day were or when you questioned who he would be with all day. He never gave you straight answers either.

“Why? What do you have planned for us today?”

“Just off brainstorming for our next date.”

“Obsessed with me, are you? You’re too cute darling.”

No matter how charming he had tried to be with his answers, you could tell something was off with him. None of the so-called plans he came up with ever came to full fruition. Often, you would find yourself waiting for him to arrive, either at the common room to take you to wherever he planned your date to be, or up in the Astronomy tower since that was where you went when you wanted to spend time, just the two of you.

Some nasty rumors had also been circulating Slytherin house. It started when someone overheard Harry Potter speaking to his friends about running into Draco right before a quidditch match, but the catch was that he was in the company of two other girls. Of course, you tried not to let these kinds of things get to you, they were just silly little rumors after all.

Still, these kinds of thoughts plagued you at night when you would go to bed not wrapped in the arms of the person you loved most.

When you brought up these feelings with him, it had only started an argument.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N.” Draco said rather harshly after you asked him about the rumors, “Are you implying that I’m cheating on you?”

“No!” You replied immediately, “I just want to know where these rumors are coming from. You’re my boyfriend, I should know what to say when people ask me about it.”

“Then tell them they should be minding their own damn business.”

You didn’t bring it up after that, afraid that if you did, it would cause an even bigger rift between you two.

By the time you had made it back to the common room, it was mostly empty. There were a couple of seventh years trying to get in some extra revising time in the corner, but they mostly left you alone. Not wanting to go up to your dorm yet, you settled on the couch next to the blazing fire instead. By some stroke of luck, Draco came stumbling inside the room as you sunk into the cushions.

“Draco!” You called out, his name slipping from your lips before you even knew you were saying anything.

His eyes registered that you were in the practically empty common room a second slower than usual, “Y/N. Hi love.”

“I missed you last night,” You admitted as he reached you.

A furrow in his brows told you that he didn’t know what you were talking about, “Come again, love?”

For the nth time, his words struck a chord deep in you. You didn’t think it was physically possible, but they added yet another crack to your already broken heart. You cleared your throat in an attempt to push down the lump that had formed, “Uh, I was waiting for you in the Astronomy tower? Because we had plans?”

As if a bucket of cold water dropped on him, his demeanour changed completely in the blink of an eye.

“Oh darling I’m so sorry,” He muttered softly, taking your face in his hands and pressing kisses all around, “I was completely knackered yesterday, I didn’t even think about anything after dinner except sleep. I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Instead of the calm you usually felt being around Draco, you felt like you were at your breaking point. You couldn’t do this to yourself anymore. It was surprising to realize, that even with the added comfort of being at the receiving end of his kisses, there was still a large part of you that was tired. You couldn’t fall back into his arms after more than a dozen attempts at trying to keep the relationship afloat.

Gently, you pried his hands away from his face and took a deep breath. You could already feel the sting of unshed tears in your eyes as they locked with his, “I don’t think you can do anything to fix this.”

“What-Love, what are you talking about?”

“All you do is make empty promises, Dray.” You whispered, “And I’m tired of setting myself up for disappointment.”

The love of your life was speechless, so you took the opportunity to stand up quickly. “I don’t understand what you’re doing or why you’re being so secretive about it, but find me when you’ve figured out if it’s worth it or not.”

Without waiting for his response, you hurriedly made your way to your dorm room and sparing no glances back in his direction.

A few days after your heartbreaking conversation with Draco, you still weren’t one hundred percent. It didn’t feel like you were ever going to be one hundred percent again. Your only solace was your friendship with Blaise.

For all intents and purposes, he was your best friend. Even before you had started dating Draco, the two of you were thick as thieves.

Oftentimes over the next few days, you found yourselves huddled in a corner of the common room. He would remind you to eat and to do your schoolwork as you went about your days mindlessly.

“C’mon,” He said one night, holding his hand out to you as you were cuddled up against a cushion. You merely raised your eyebrow at him, “Get up, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and took his hand. It was well past curfew, but it never really bothered the pair of you. Being Slytherins made you resourceful with how you navigated the castle, the easy dynamic between the two of you enabled you to sneak through the shadows unnoticed by anyone who might have been nearby.

“Why are we going to the Astronomy tower?” You whispered as you climbed the seemingly endless staircase.

“Just thought you could use some fresh air.” He answered nonchalantly, “Feels like you’ve kept yourself cooped up in the castle this whole week.”

“That’s awful sweet of you, Zabini,” You teased, the shadow of a smile on your lips.

He shrugged as you got to the top of the tower, “Just don’t like seeing you so sad.”

Few words were exchanged between you two as you leant against the railing of the turret, taking in the view of the grounds in the dim light. The moon was full and high in the sky, and the breeze wasn’t as biting as it was the last time you were here.

Something about being up there in the clear night with Blaise was doing wonders for your aching heart. It might’ve been the fresh, crisp air, it might have been the calming presence of your best friend. You were grateful either way.

As the wind picked up, you huddled closer to Blaise’s warm body. What was it about boys being basically walking furnaces all the damn time?

“Draco’s a prat,” He murmured as he wrapped his arms around you, “I just wanted you to hear that.”

“He’s not though,” You defended weakly, “Something’s up with him, definitely, but I don’t think he’s being a dick on purpose.”

“Yeah but he’s still made you feel like shit.”

You shrugged, “And I let him.”

After a few minutes of silence, you heard the distinct sound of a door swinging open behind you. You craned your neck to see who would be up here at such a late hour when your heart stopped in your chest.

“What’s going on here?” Draco sneered, taking in the sight of you cuddled up at Blaise’s side, “Replaced me already, Y/N? Reckon he’s the reason why we’ve broken up?”

You felt Blaise tense up beside you but paid no mind when your focus was solely on the rage brewing in your chest.

“How dare you,” You seethed, “You have no right to accuse me, we weren’t even doing anything!”

He had the audacity to scoff at your retort, “Sneaking off at nearly midnight, to share a romantic night under the stars? Seems like more than just ‘nothing.’”

Before you could respond, you felt Blaise’s warm hands on your shoulders, “I’m gonna let you handle this one, love.” Blaise whispered in your ear, “He doesn’t deserve anything from you, but I feel like I’ll only make it worse if I stay.”

You nodded slightly.

“Hurt her even more than you have, Malfoy, and you’ll see just what kinds of curses I know how to cast.”

With Blaise making a quick exit and taking away your source of warmth, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and clutched the jacket you had on closer to you.

“You never had a problem with my friendship with Blaise before,” You muttered.

“Because he wasn’t all over you then!” He argued.

“We’ve always been like that and you know it.” You rolled your eyes, “Why are you even up here Draco?”

“So you own the Astronomy tower now?” He huffed, stepping next to you to lean on the railings, “I needed somewhere to think and clear my head.”

Almost as if there was no gaping chasm between the two of you, your bodies slowly inched towards each other until you were shoulder to shoulder. Almost as if the boy standing next to you hadn’t broken your heart with his secrets and his deflection tactics, his presence seemed to calm your elevated heart rate. Almost.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s been going on with you recently?” The words that escape your mouth are no more than a whisper. You hold your breath in anticipation.

“Nothing’s been going on,” Is all he says in reply.

“Stop lying through your teeth, Draco!” You burst out, your frustrations finally getting the better of you, “I’m tired of your lies. Do you not trust me? Is that it? Because I can help you, you just have to let me in!”

“Of course I trust you! I love you for Merlin’s sake, Y/N!”

You sucked in a breath, all of your resentment seeming to escape your body, “I love you too, Draco,” You whisper, taking his warm hand in your cold ones, “But all of this sneaking around, this hiding, I don’t think I can handle not knowing what you’re up to especially when it’s affecting you this way.”

Draco took a deep shuddering breath, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

That wasn’t what you expected him to say, “You won’t, you just need to be honest with me.”

He turned to face you, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hands, “I can’t tell you exactly what I’m doing,” You opened your mouth to argue but he cut you off with a look, “All I can say is that I love you and I want to protect you. What I’m doing has nothing to do with how much you mean to me, but it’s something I have to do. I just need you to be here, be with me.”

“I don’t understand,” Came your reply.

“I’m saying that I have an important job to do, and I want to be with you, but that means you’ll have to be okay with not knowing everything.”

“You’ll tell me if you need any help though, right?” You all but whispered.

“I’ll tell you if you absolutely need to know,” He nodded slightly.

“Okay,” You were still trying to wrap your head around everything that he said. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was a good compromise, “And you can’t keep blowing me off. If you want me to be here for you, then you have to do the same for me.”

“I can work with that.” A slow smile graced his pale features and you felt your heart stutter at the sight, you hadn’t seen him look so calm and at ease in a long time.

“Good.” You pressed your cheek against his chest and reveled at the comfort it brought you. He wrapped his arms around you and you could feel yourself melting into his touch.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy imagines #Draco Malfoy fics #Draco Malfoy fic #Draco Malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy reader insert #Draco Malfoy x y/n #Draco Malfoy angst #Blaise Zabini

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k-comfyspace · 3 years

Text

Cliché

Star: Wong Kahei (Loona)

Idea: Yes

Love: Hi! I noticed a lack of Vivi on tumblr recently, or I’m just looking in the wrong place but could you write one about her and reader haven’t gone out on a date in a long time, so when they do reader would spoil Vivi so much and show her affection that she would get so shy? Thanks a lot!

You’ve been struggling for the past few weeks, your parents constantly on your back with work, friends wanting to get drunk, and on top of that you haven’t seen your girlfriend in weeks.

You couldn’t call Kahei because you were hesitant because you didn’t want to interrupt her schedules. While when she was the one that could call you were too busy attending a meeting or you were resting.

It made it increasingly irritating that your schedules were just shy of catching up with each other, which annoyed you that when an opportunity showed that you could talk to Kahei, it was time for you to leave or start something.

Now it was different, walking out of the elevator you padded down the hall, a smile on your face before you knocked on the door.

—

Kahei sat up when she heard the door, her heart hammering against her chest as she got closer, grasping the doorknob she took a deep breath before opening it.

Truthfully she has been waiting for today. Having planned it the previous week she couldn’t help but be giddy. After weeks of not seeing each other today she could finally see you.

Opening the door, a bright smile made it to her face when she saw a colorful bouquet. You peeked over and saw your girlfriend, smiling happily, you lowered the flowers and offered it to her.

Kahei took it happily before inviting you inside. Right as you sat down, you felt something crash into you suddenly falling on the couch, feeling someone on top of you as you immediately hugged back.

Kahei sighed, embracing your warmth as she tucked her head in your neck, finally after weeks she could finally hold you. Your scent fills her senses while your warmth and comfort spread to her. Your arms around her tightened, leaving a kiss on her head, saying the first words to start a great day.

“I missed you so much.”

—

You got out of the car, opening the door for Kahei before taking her hand in yours.

You planned on taking her out to the mall, since you knew you were both tired, a movie would be enough for both of you to relax and not get too tired from.

On your way to the cinema you and Kahei spent a good amount of time arguing on who would buy the food, while Kahei wanted to split it, you insisted that you could pay for all of it but she wasn’t too fond of the idea.

After a little more arguing, it resulted in you two agreeing that she would pay for the tickets and you would pay for the food.

Picking the seats both of you whispered quietly, talking about your theories on what would happen during the movie while also commenting about the trailers that would pop up on the large screen.

When the lights dimmed and the movie started you leaned back, relaxing since for once, you were doing something that wasn’t related to work.

Doing something that your parents didn’t ask you to do, that you were here because of the girl beside you, the thought made you smile. Your hand reaches for Kahei’s before intertwining your fingers, your thumb rubbing the back of her hand and lifting it near your lips and giving it a kiss.

Kahei raised her head, looking at you in question for the sudden gesture while you could only smile lovingly at her, she could only thank that the lights were dim because you would’ve seen the blush that seared her face while you wore that bright smile of yours.

During the movie you and Kahei would watch attentively but sometimes one of you would pause, seeking for each other’s hand or leaning against one another. It was a small gesture but it still made your heart do flips because of the sweetness.

After the movie both of you would walk out with smiles on your faces. Roaming around the mall as you spoke with each other about random topics you could think about. Sometimes stopping inside a store if you or Kahei saw anything that you could buy.

After a few hours you eventually got hungry and instead of reserving a restaurant you thought you could reminisce all the times you went out on dates at midnight, going into fast food restaurants where you could order and eat everything that you wanted to.

“This brings back a lot,” you said before picking up a fry, but instead of eating it yourself you moved it towards your girlfriend, who Suddenly grew shy, lowering her head as a pink hue spread on her face.

“You don’t have to give it to me, Y/n,”

You giggled at her but you didn’t pull away, until she took it eventually, though avoiding your eye contact after she ate it. You tried to look at her in the eyes but Kahei kept glancing away, still the red tint on her cheeks while you only smiled as you tried to catch her.

Then you noticed the red tint slowly disappearing, her face raising gradually, which sadly didn’t last when the desert arrived. When anyone is eating ice cream no one could really avoid making a mess, so when Kahei took a spoonful she left markings around her lips.

Due to your unconscious actions and caring nature you suddenly leaned forward, startling your girlfriend as she sat back, her face suddenly exploded with blush when you wiped the corner of her lips with a tissue, your other hand holding her chin.

Your face inches away from hers and while she was burning, you were too busy to notice, not until you sat back and placed the tissue down.

Glancing at your girlfriend who is frozen in place, her face beat red before you burst out in laughter, now clicking in your head as to what you did before you smiled at your girlfriend, wiping a rear that slipped past your eyes as you laughed, “You’re too cute,”

—

You laced your fingers with Kahei, walking down the park as you both giggled to yourselves. After you spent a few more hours in the mall, Kahei wanted to end the day peacefully so you drove to the park near their dorm.

Catching up on what’s been happening to each other, “...then Jinsoul bumped her head, it was too funny,” you laughed at the end stopping at the top of the bridge and leaned against the side, your girlfriend linking her arm with your as she rested her head on your shoulder.

You enjoyed her presence before you remembered something. Placing your hand in your pocket and feeling the box, you smiled to yourself before pulling it out, Kahei’s eyes widened. Her body stiffening when she saw but you were quick to speak before she could freak out.

“Don’t worry it’s not what it looks like, though I would be happy to spend the rest of my days with you, I know we’re not ready for that yet.”

You felt her relax a bit though there was a part in her that became giddy at the possible future. Releasing a sigh, you opened the box revealing two golden rings, “I know it might be cliché but, I wanted something to represent you by. A promise that should be kept at all times, a lover who I know would always be there for me as I am with them,”

Kahei felt her eyes water, eyeing the rings as you took it out and slipped it on her hand, wearing yours after as you wrapped your arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

Kahei was happy, a tear falling down her face as she closed her eyes. You pulled away and cupped her cheeks, wiping the tears before leaning in and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“With the way things ended up today, I feel like we haven’t been apart for so long,” she said after a while, letting the silence of the night linger, both looking at the sky.

You hummed, closing your eyes, listening to her voice, “That even if we spend weeks apart, the love we have won’t ever disappear. Make it a few months or a year, I would always love you.”

“I love you too.”

#loona #loona scenarios #loona imagines #girl group #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #vivi #loona vivi #loona kahei #kahei #wong kahei #vivi imagines #vivi scenarios #kahei imagines #kahei scenarios

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alynomali · 3 years

Text

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader “𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜”

A/N : Hi hello i just got into tumblr and this is my first time writing a full on one shot in english because english is not my first language ;( so i’m sorry if there’s any error in my writing but i hope you guys can still enjoy the story :D anyway i’m on an iwaizumi hajime brainrot and i know y’all too so let’s just get into ittt *****

Genre : Fluff

Word Count : 5k

You woke up feeling lightheaded. You brought the back of your palm to feel your forehead that was burning hot hours ago. But after four hours of sleep and taking your medicine, the heat has subsided and was replaced by your normal body temperature. You sighed in relief but you still didn’t want to step up from your comfortable bed. Instead you rolled to the side to grab your phone that was laying on the nightstand, to get some info on school assignment, or any big news that you missed throughout today from your friends because you didn’t manage to go to school. When you turned off airplane mode, tons of messages from your close friend’s group chat rang loudly with multiple ringing sounds, coming one after another. When the ringing finally stops, you open the group chat and skim through the chat bubbles your friends sent, curious to what they are discussing.

“Oh? They lost?” you murmur to yourself after getting an understatement. Today is the match of your school’s volleyball team against Karasuno High School. From the people who went and saw the match, it was pretty intense and they were neck to neck to one another. But in the end Karasuno won and they only a point difference from Aoba Johsai. The further you read the chats, one caught your attention

I saw Oikawa toss the ball to Iwaizumi from the right end of the court and Iwaizumi got to spike it perfectly! That was crazyy

Yeah, but even with that perfect toss and powerful spike, Karasuno managed to get it. Both team are crazyyy

I saw Iwaizumi-kun cried In the hallway, poor him. He must��ve think that that one spike was important

Aww no

You slowly sat up from your bed, while still reading those lines over and over again. “Iwaizumi…” you mumbled to the air. You then checked the clock hanging on your bedroom wall, you saw that it was 7.56PM. ‘He should be home already..’

You heard a knock on your door, and your mom peeked through. “Oh you’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Great! My fever is gone”

“If that’s so, can you go to Hajime’s house? His mother and father are working late and he probably hasn’t had dinner, so drop these for him okay?” asked your mother while holding a nicely wrapped box probably filled with food.

“Uh yeah okay. I’ll get ready”

It is not a secret. To you, your close friends, and specifically Oikawa Tooru, that you have a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime. This has been going on for a long time, since the beginning of second grade. You got to be in the same class as Iwaizumi. At first you were a bit scared of him due to the somewhat tense atmosphere surrounding him, but turns out, he is the nicest guy you ever met. He spoke in a deep and gruff voice, but there’s so much tenderness in the way he speaks. His arms and hands are big and calloused from playing too much volleyball, but whenever he accidentally touches you, he is always so careful with his grip, or makes sure that he doesn’t touch you in an inappropriate way. His tall figure always towers over your 160 cm figure, but it made you feel secure. And there are many small acts he does to you that always make something in your stomach flip. You know that those are just the way he respects the opposite gender (from your observation), but it still made him so attractive to you. Plus he looks cute and manly although not you can call a worldwide handsome. Also He probably hid a well toned body underneath the layers of cloth he wears. Before you got too far and deep into your thoughts of that man, you quickly shook your head to focus on your current mission right now. Iwaizumi probably is sulking as hell right now and you want to do something nice for him, or maybe just there to give him reassurance.

iwaizumi’s house is just seven minutes walk from your house. Before you rang the bell, you noticed that the gate was not locked. “Did he forget to lock it?” you opened the gate and made your way to the also not locked door. You saw his training bag in the hallway entrance, meaning that Iwaizumi is home. But you were glad that there were no signs of robbery. “Iwaizumi?” you called him. The living room and dining room were clean and empty. Not even a slightest sound was heard. “He’s probably in his room”. You climbed up the stairs and saw that the door of his room is slightly open and you could see him inside drying his hair with a towel, back facing you

You knocked on the door and Iwaizumi jumped slightly. “y/n? How did you get in?”. You sighed, “You left the front door and gate open,”. “Oh.., wait here then I’ll go lock it,” Iwaizumi then went downstairs leaving you sitting alone in his room on his study chair. You’ve gone to his bedroom a couple times but this time it feels different. The room is filled with his scent of cologne and shampoo from his shower earlier. You carefully breathe it in and a blush crept to your cheeks, just in time Iwaizumi stepped back in the room “Okay wha- wait, why are your face red?”

You flustered, “What! N-No I’m perfectly fine! Maybe it’s because of my fever earlier, hahahaha.”

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “Okay? Anyway, why are you here?” he asks as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance from you.

“O-Oh yea, um, my mother made you dinner. She said that your parents will be home late,” you said holding up the wrapped box in your hand.

“I already ate but i guess there’s still space for your mom’s cooking. Say my thanks for her,” you smiled at his words.

“Should I walk you back? It’s dark.”

“What? No, it’s not even 8pm and my house is just seven minutes away.”

“Okay then, thankyou again. Be careful on your way back.”

‘Wait? No no no no, I can’t just go home like this. He’s probably not going to eat his food and be sulking instead,” You stood up. Iwaizumi thought you were going to leave so he grabbed his phone on the nightstand and got comfortable on his bed with his back resting against the headboard. He didn’t sense your figure leaving his room so his eyes left his phone to look at you, “why are you still here? It’s not appropriate for a girl to stay in a boy’s room.”

“You did very well today, Iwaizumi.”

“huh?”

You clutched your fingers, “You did so well in the match today. I’m proud of you. Never think that you lost because of a big mistake. You didn’t make any mistake. You gave your best as you always do. Winning or losing is just a result. What matters is that even if you lost, you still gave all your might in the court. All of your hard work, your sneaky practices at the park in the late afternoon, it’s all worth it. Because you gave it all in the court today. Nothing goes to waste.”

Your voice was stern, but there’s a hint of tenderness in it. Iwaizumi just looked at you dumbfounded . After a while, Iwaizumi gave you a soft smile “Thanks, sorry we didn’t keep our promise to go to nationals.”

“Don’t mind me. That is your promise to yourself.”

“Right.”

After that, you still stood there. Arms crossed on your chest. Iwaizumi eyed you in confusion. “What…? Is there again?”

You then sat on the bed beside him, arms still crossed on your chest, “You’re gonna cry. I’m gonna stay here to accompany you until you’re done.”

“What?! No, I'm fine, you should go home now.”

“I’m not gonna let you be alone until you feel better,” you said sternly

“W-Wha- ugh..” Iwaizumi turned his face to the side, not facing you as he can no longer contain the tears that have been threatening to fall ever since he was greeted by the emptiness of his house. Because of the silence, replays of today’s match became clear in his mind. Every step, every move, every shout of frustration , every cheer of happiness, and the last whistle signaling the end of the game. It was awfully clear, every bit of it, and it made him feel hopeless. Like there’s nothing that he can do. His shoulder began to shake, and you could hear soft sobs. It’s like he’s holding back to scream because you’re there.

You never actually see Iwaizumi cry and now being alone with him is his weakest state flustering you. You did say that you’re gonna accompany him but now you’re confused as to what to do. You stayed silent, just watching him. He still doesn’t face you and his sobs became softer. You don’t like this, he’s holding back so much because you’re there. This is probably supposed to be his time, when he shut his door, turned off the lights, and curled under the blanket. Letting out all of his frustration into anything he can manage. But then you decided to come. You hate to admit it but you ruined his time.

But still, you didn’t want to leave.

So instinctively, you reached out your hand to touch the back of his neck. You can feel Iwaizumi tensed up a little. As he slowly turned his head to finally look at you, you and your hand up further to the back of his head, fingers buried in his soft brunette hair. Iwaizumi’s red and teary eyes looked at you in slight confusion, and you stared back at him with a pang in your heart. Seeing his hurting expression for the first time feels like something stabbed your chest. ‘So this is what it feels like.. when you care so much about someone..’

Without another hesitation, you lean your body towards him and let his head fall on your shoulder. The warmth of his body envelopes you and you can feel the sturdiness of his body. You wrapped both of your arms on his shoulder, trapping him in a hug. Your fingers stayed buried in his hair as you started to give it a soft scratch in an attempt to soothe him. “I said I’ll accompany you. So vent all you want. I’m listening.”

You couldn’t see iwaizumi’s expression. But you could feel his body relaxed to your soft touches and he began to cry loudly, “Damn it! Damn those Karasuno..! I-I too.. I want to go to the nationals too fucking damn it!! I want to go with my friends too… with my juniors.. damnit! Damnit argh!!” you tighten your grip on him cause you feel like he’s going to burst. But you’re glad that he doesn’t move away from you. He was always so physical about these things, but now he just uses his words and emotions.

After some minutes, the hurtful scream and cry gradually turns into a soft sobbing. Your grip around his shoulder soften as Iwaizumi slowly moves away from you. “S-Sorry for ranting and um.. hugging you,” he sniffed and rubbed away the remaining tears leaking out.

You smile, “Don’t worry, but it feels good doesn’t it?”. He chuckled softly, “yeah.”

You fiddled with your fingers on your lap, “I’m sure everyone is feeling the same as you, Iwaizumi. I’m sorry I barged in into your supposed to be alone time. But I just couldn’t help it, I just can’t go to sleep tonight thinking about how you will have trouble sleeping. The others maybe will, but I won’t let you. Because you’re-- um..” you immediately stopped your words. Because just now you were just about to say the thing. Being alone with him and getting caught up in the mood urges you to, but you reminded yourself that you can’t do that, not when he’s in this state.

“What about me?” Iwaizumi tilted his head to the side, eyeing you in confusion.

You immediately shot up from his bed and gave him a wide smile, “Nothing! Anyway, enjoy your food. I should get going now,” you said while pointing towards the door.

“Uh? Oh yeah okay, I’ll open the gate for you,” you were tailing behind Iwaizumi as the two of you were heading downstairs. Luckily for Iwaizumi, you couldn’t see heat creeping up to his cheeks and he is starting to register what just happened between you two.

‘Nah, she can’t be…. Right?’

~------------------------------------------------~

The next day, you woke up from the ringing of your smartphone placed on your nightstand. You didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and just answer, “Ugh.. hello?”

“Did you just wake up?” Iwaizumi’s deep and gruff voice from the other line jolts you up from your sleeping position, “I-Iwaizumi??”

“I want to return the lunch box from last night. I had been ringing the bell but no one came out.”

“Ah right sorry. My parents left early to my grandparents house. I’ll be there wait a second”

When you opened the door you were greeted by the sight of Iwaizumi looking nice and neat in a pair of black jeans and a slightly oversized denim jacket over a grey hoodie. Your breath hitch at the sight of him until he starts talking, “Here” he handed the clean lunch box to you, nicely wrapped as well “The food was good, thank you”

“Yeah, you're welcome. Um.. are you going somewhere?” You asked while accepting the lunch box.

“I’m going to see Karasuno and Shiratorizawa match,” he said, putting his hands inside his pocket.

Concern filled your expression, “Are you feeling alright?”

He smiled softly, “Yeah, I can’t stay bummed out for too long.”

“That’s good then!” You beamed with a smile.

“I’ll be going then. When will your parents come back home?”

“Um.. maybe at night. They said they're gonna be there for a while.”

“And why aren’t you coming with them?” he asks again.

“I’m starting to prepare for the college entrance exam,” you said while rubbing the back of your neck .

“Ah, that’s nice. Well then, goodluck on it. Be careful, if anything happens, call me or Oikawa” he said, turning his back towards you. This soft part of Iwaizumi showing that he cares about you always makes your heart flutter and makes you fell deeper for him.

“Y-Yeah.. thank you..” and with that, you closed the door. You sighed as you tried to calm the loud thumping of your heart.

You mumbled, “Maybe.. I can do it today.. he seems to be in a good mood.”

You looked down towards the ground, thinking hard, “Confession huh…”

~----------------------------------~

Later that day, Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa match ended with Karasuno as the winner thus continuing to the national stage. Surprisingly to Iwaizumi he met Oikawa in one of the seats and now they are walking together out of the gymnasium.

“Hey Iwa-chan~, let’s go grab some food. I’m feeling like shit,” Oikawa said with a scowl on his face, his nose scrunched

“Then don’t come to see the match if you’re gonna be like this!”

“Stop being so rude and treat your best friend nicely for once will ya?!” Oikawa said with his arms folded on his chest.

Iwaizumi sighed, didn’t want to deal with Oikawa’s words any further, “Fine let’s go get something to eat,”

“Yay~! Let’s eat at a fast food restaurant!”

Along the way to the nearest fast food restaurant, Iwaizumi’s mind was wandering everywhere. Oikawa started to notice this because his friend had been bumping into stuff during their short walk. Oikawa bumped Iwaizumi’s shoulder to get his attention. He slightly jolted and he glanced at him, “What?”

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Huh? No, why?”

Oikawa sighed, “Really, Iwa-chan. You should be more honest. You almost stepped on a kid back there.”

Iwaizumi only huffed at Oikawa’s words.

“Is it a girl??”

“Can you shut up.”

“A girl it is!” Oikawa beamed, “Who is it? Who is it??”

“No I’m not thinking of that!” Lies. The truth is he was thinking of you. About what happened last night. About how you gave him the warmest hug he ever received. How you convey your words of comfort to him. He may have kept a dumbfounded face at that time but the truth is thousands of butterflies were raging inside his whole body. He didn’t know if it was because he has a thing for you or if it’s because he was flustered because you’re a girl and he is a boy. He never really thought of fawning over somebody. All he thinks about is just studying and volleyball. Yahaba and Kindaichi always prattle about how much they want a girlfriend but he’s never really into those kinds of conversation. But what if he’s finally getting his first ever love story now? He’ll be damned because he’s never prepared himself for these kinds of things, even though he’s almost 19 years old.

So he decides to swallow hard his ego and eyed his gaudy bestfriend intensely, before he forces words out of his mouth “Um.. O-Oikaw—”

“Oh! Is that y/n-chan?” Oikawa suddenly said as he pointed a finger to get Iwaizumi to also look at where you were standing. Oikawa is about to call you when Iwaizumi suddenly blurted out

“W-Wait! Don’t call her!”

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi confused, but then his lips formed a cheeky grin “Humm?? What’s this?”

Iwaizumi's face turns beet red, “A-Ah! No I-I’m—Um..” Iwaizumi wanted to die instantly at that exact moment because now Oikawa is clearly holding back his laughter. A mischievous grin is plastered on Oikawa’s face as he ignored Iwaizumi and made his way towards you calling out your name, “Y/n-chaann~!”

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth while covering half of his face with his hand “Fuck that shittykawa,”

You were standing on the side, beside the trashcan as you are currently finishing your drink so you can quickly throw it onto the trashcan. Until the familiar voice of Oikawa beamed through the street, making you quickly snap your head to the side to see Oikawa currently walking towards you with Iwaizumi behind him.

“Oikawa! Iwaizumi!”

“Yahoo, what you doing here alone?” asked Oikawa.

“I just came from the bookstore. I’m looking for stuff to help me study,” you answered, throwing your empty drink into the trashcan.

“Me and Iwa-chan are going to eat right now, do you wanna come? Iwa-chan really wants you to come apparently,” Oikawa said wiggling his eyebrows at Iwaizumi.

“HUH?!” Iwaizumi was beating the shit out of Oikawa while you only stood there smiling awkwardly.

“Uhm yeah sure I’ll come.” You answered when they finally calmed down.

“Yay~ okay then let’s goo! And Iwa-chan stop being so jumpy and fidgety will you?”

“I’M NOT! Come on let’s go,” you eyed Iwaizumi worriedly, wondering if you did something wrong. So you reached Iwaizumi's side and asked him “Hey, are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, sorry,” Iwaizumi said as he averted his eyes from you. Iwaizumi is acting weird when you join their walk to the restaurant just now, you didn’t want to think too much into it yet you can feel slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“We’re here!” After five minutes the three of them finally arrived at the said fast food restaurant. You offered to find a seat while Iwaizumi and Oikawa went to stand on the line to order. You finally sat yourself down and got yourself comfortable. Unknown to you, Oikawa and Iwaizumi are having their own convo about you.

“Is there something going on between you two?” Oikawa asks.

“…no”

“And I will say this to you over and over again, be honest Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi pondered for a moment before talking in a much quieter tone, “Yesterday.. y/n came to my house.”

Oikawa blinked, “What? Why?”

Iwaizumi grunted, reaching up his hand to rub the back of his neck to somehow ease the heat on his face, “Um.. she actually came to give me food because my parents are home late. And um.. after that…'' Iwaizumi trailed off, hiding his face from Oikawa.

“What! Don’t leave me hanging!” Oikawa then gasps, “Oh my god don’t tell me---!”

Iwaizumi quickly retorts, “No shithead! She just hugged me because she knows that we lost the game yesterday. And um I don’t know how to explain it but at that time, everything feels so intimate and uh- I don’t know…”

“Ohh~ So you’re in love?” Oikawa smirks.

To Oikawa’s surprise Iwaizumi didn’t yell or smack him in the head but only eyed him, “I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve always been so flustered whenever she does something for me. But I don’t know if it’s just because I feel nervous of the opposite sex.”

Oikawa tapped Iwaizumi on the shoulder, “Well my man, it doesn’t matter if you both are the opposite gender. If you don’t feel anything towards her then you will be comfortable in any kind of situation. Don’t worry I got your back, because I know you’re suck at this so I’ll make the chance so you two can have a talk together,” Oikawa said with a wink at the end.

“Ugh.. I can’t believe I’m getting advice from you… you look a hundred times more annoying right now.” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Rude Iwa-chan~!”

Suddenly people around them were silent and started whispering while looking in a certain direction. Oikawa and Iwaizumi stopped their bickering to try and see what’s going on. Not long after, there are two staff coming out from behind the counter to go to a certain table

“Miss, are you alright?”

“We have a change of clothes if you’d like..”

Iwaizumi pushed himself through the people gathering around the scene and saw that it was you. Your outfit was drenched in supposedly a drink, some of the liquid even splat onto the table and on the floor under too, making a mess.

“Y/n!” Iwaizumi goes into full panic as he runs towards you with Oikawa behind.

When they got to your side, Iwaizumi immediately asked, “What happened?! Are you alright?!”

“Yeah.. just now a guy came up to me and tried to ask for my number. I declined it but he just kept pushing me to do so, and I pissed him off so he threw the drink he was holding at me..” you let out a small laugh.

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth and punched his fist onto the table “Where is he now, that jerk!”

“It’s alright Iwaizumi! He already left. I’ll just go and change now, it’s not like things like this never happen anyways,” you gave him a reassuring smile. Iwaizumi looks at you in shock, “I mean for a stranger to hit on me! They are usually never that aggressive. I'll change now okay.” You said standing up from your seat, following the staff to get your change of cloth.

Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh and began to help clean the mess on the table. He shot a glare towards Oikawa who was just standing on the sideline, “What are you doing standing there trashykawa!”

Oikawa only smiled and shrugged, “I just don’t want to ruin your moment. You’d be a good protective boyfriend Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi only grumbled in response.

After all of that commotion, the three of you still sat down and enjoyed the meal. Even though the staff told you three that the food will be at service, you didn’t think it was necessary so you still have your peaceful lunch with Iwaizumi and Oikawa. The conversation you guys had quickly washed away the tense atmosphere. Oikawa and Iwaizumi talk about the match earlier and how pissed they were that karasuno won. But they seem to be a lot more chill than yesterday so you just laugh it off with them. After that the three of you left the restaurant and walked back to your neighborhood.

You were still talking with Iwaizumi and Oikawa along the way. You seem to not notice but you were talking and smiling towards Iwaizumi more, it has always been like that whenever the three of you hung out. You and Iwaizumi always seem to gravitate towards one another and it’s making Oikawa feel like he’s third wheeling. But he’s not mad though, he finds it cute. Now he’ll just have to give both of them a push.

Oikawa halted his track and cleared his throat, “Guys sorry but I need to go somewhere.”

You and Iwaizumi both stopped talking and stopped your track as well, “Why so sudden, Oikawa?”

“No big deal, I just forgot to buy something my sister asked for. You guys can go home!” Oikawa then lightly put his hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, giving him a thumbs up and a big smile, telling him through his head ‘Good luck Iwa-chan!’

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, mouth went agape, ‘Now?! Wait, I’m not ready yet!’

“Bye you guys~!” Oikawa sprinted to the other direction, leaving Iwaizumi and you alone. ‘Damn that trashykawaaa….’

“Let’s go, Iwaizumi ,” you said softly. Iwaizumi quickly became flustered, “Uhh.. yeah right.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence while continuing the walk. You were looking around as you walked while Iwaizumi on the other hand was in deep thought, thinking of how to use this situation to make his move. His train of thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your sweet voice calling out to him, “Iwaizumi, do you want to drop by the park? There is this small taiyaki stand that I want to try.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi said with a small smile.

It was a quite chilly day and a gush of wind just so happened to pass through you and Iwaizumi. You didn’t have your long sleeved because it was wet from an earlier accident and was replaced by a short sleeved one provided by the staff from the restaurant. They apologize that they didn’t have a much warmer cloth but you reassure them that it’s fine because your house is close by.

In the midst of trying to keep yourself warm by rubbing the side of your arms, you suddenly felt warmth on your back as a jacket draped over your shoulder. You look to the side to see that Iwaizumi took off his outer jacket and gave it to you, “You look uncomfortable, wear this in the meantime,” Iwaizumi muttered softly, trying to press down his embarrassment.

You felt your cheeks heated up, “T-Thankyou..” you slid your arms into the sleeve to wear his jacket properly. It was obviously too big for you and his scent immediately envelopes you.

The two of you reached the park and your face beamed a smile, “Thank goodness not many people here, the other day the line was quite long so I didn’t get it. Come on, Iwaizumi!” you said as you ran happily towards the stand. He smiled softly at the sight of your small figure on his clothes and followed you.

You both sat on a nearby bench eating your taiyaki, “Ah, it’s warm..” you took a bite and hummed in delight. Iwaizumi's heart flutters upon seeing your cute gestures.

“This really worth 350 yen isn’t it, Iwaizumi---” You looked at Iwaizumi and saw that he’s actually looking at you. You froze and felt your heart beat faster at how Iwaizumi looked at you with such adoreness. You went silent for a few seconds, just looking back at Iwaizumi until you whispered. “Um.. is there something on my face?”

“Yeah.. you’re beautiful,” Iwaizumi said softly with no expression.

“W-What?” you were taken aback.

Iwaizumi sighed and looked down to his hands, he fiddled his fingers as he spoke, “I’m not good at this kind of things.. so um..”

You waited for Iwaizumi to finish as your heart beats faster every second making it hard to breathe.

Iwaizumi grunted and rubbed the back of his neck, “Y-You know how you said that you sometimes.. got hit up by a random guy on the street and um.. I was thinking maybe it’ll be easier to brush them off if you.. you uh.. have a boyfriend…”

Your whole face now is red, “O-Okay..?”

Iwaizumi finally faced you, staring into your eyes, “I-I mean to say—I’ll be your boyfriend!”

You went silent and you only stared at him with your mouth agape.

“I have always been so flustered whenever I’m with you, and without noticing I get jealous when a guy approaches you, like I was so mad earlier when a guy—no, I’ll get mad at whoever did something like that to you. So uh.. I’ll be your boyfriend.. if you’d like… so I can always be there for you..” he trailed off towards the end.

You were so taken aback that you just fell silent. Iwaizumi covered his face from embarrassment, “Argh.. that is such an uncute way of confessing, I’m sorry I don’t---”

Suddenly you let out a laugh, Iwaizumi removed his hand from his face to look at you with a pout, “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Sorry sorry! But you are just so cute. I can’t believe you can be this cute,” you said with a smile still plastered on your face.

Iwaizumi grunted, “S-So.. what’s your answer?”

“Hmm.. but I’m kinda upset that you beat me into confessing..”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped towards you, “Wait what?”

“Last night I actually wanted to confess to you, but I thought that the timing would be bad so I’m thinking when I should do it. But it turns out you confess the day after. So I guess I shouldn’t worry too much about you,” you said giggling.

“Well, I guess you do always made me feel better,”

You both fell silent again. Iwaizumi nervously spoke again, “So.. are you saying yes?”

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “Of course~”

Iwaizumi slumped down on his seat, face already overheated, “I guess I have to get used to this..”

~-----------------------------------~

a/n : arrgghh i can’t believe i finish this, more iwa-chan fics will be coming soon because he’s a precious man :D

#haikyuu #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi oneshot #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi hajime

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Where the Ice Crushes the Wave

Warning, this fic contains instances of:

Dubious Consent Possession Emotional Manipulation Abuse Minor Character Death Hurt No Comfort Blood and Gore

Summary:

I don't know if you've heard of Possessed Tang, but it's everywhere on tumblr, and it's basically an excuse to hurt Pigsy. I decided to go ham. The warnings I put are real. Viewer Discretion is advised.

AO3 Link

Pigsy notices something is wrong immediately.

It’s not hard. He’s been watching Tang for years, knows him like the back of his hand. He knows that Tang is always there when he opens, at least for a few minutes. They’ll banter, then Tang will disappear for a few hours before arriving at lunch to steal some noodles. At some point, Pigsy will yell, chase him out but not really, and Tang will laugh all the while.

On a good day, Pigsy will invite Tang upstairs, and they eat dinner in Pigsy’s apartment. They’ll sit in front of the TV for hours, making fun of idiots in cooking shows, and Pigsy will deliberate over and over on the idea of moving his hand to hold Tang’s. He never does, because he’s afraid to push, afraid to ask for too much and lose what he already has.

Pigsy can feel the power he has, vibrating in his skin, hidden because the person he used to be is not who he wants to be now, ever. He knows that if he let that loose, if he grew tall and strong and dangerous, everyone around him would suffer; he holds it all in.

He just waits for Tang. He can be patient. He has spent a thousand years learning to be, and he thanks his master for teaching him, because if he was to wait for anything it would be this.

He’d spend an eternity and a day waiting for that.

For four days, though, Tang doesn’t come to the shop at all.

Pigsy texts him, calls him, and gets nothing. He shouts more, is biting and sharp for those four days, wracked with worry and desperate for answers.

He searches even the town once. Twice. He waits, because that’s what he’s good at, but at the same time he wants to grow large and take charge, to roar into the night and shake the world until it tells him where his Tang is.

Four days of waiting before Tang appears in the shop in the morning. He smiles and waves, as if he hadn’t blown Pigsy off for four days, as if he hadn’t worried Pigsy sick.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Pigsy grabs Tang by his scarf and pulls, too angry and worried and hurt to stop himself.

Tang starts but gives him an easygoing smile in return. That’s what tips Pigsy off first. The curve of the lips is wrong, more cunning than kind.

“Sorry-family emergency.” Easy deflection. Tang shrugs. “I kept meaning to text you back, but stuff kept coming up.”

Pigsy could almost accept that, except Tang has never brought up his family before. To talk about them now, it seems too...convenient. And regardless of that, Tang has never left Pigsy in the lurch like this. It’s too out of character. A quick text to say ‘I’m okay’ would take but a minute. Tang is kind enough to give Pigsy a minute of his time, he wouldn’t just let Pigsy sit worried.

Right?

He stares at Tang, squinting a little, and almost lets him go. But then.

“You changed your glasses,” he notes.

The rims are blue. He can see traces of snowflakes on the lenses.

Tang smiles, eyes shut and head tilted to one side. Pigsy is suddenly aware of something dangerous, sitting beneath his friend’s skin. The hairs on his arm stand up straight, and it is so, so obvious now that this isn’t Tang at all.

“Yes,” Not Tang says, and his smile is all teeth. “Do you like them?”

Pigsy knows a challenge when he sees one, and he takes a breath.

“Prefer your old ones, actually,” he grunts out. “Blue isn’t your color.”

Not Tang laughs. It sends a shiver down Pigsy’s spine. But it isn’t just fear, no, his cheeks color.

“On that, Pigsy, we will have to disagree.” His name out of Not Tang’s mouth sounds foreign, but it’s Tang’s voice, and Not Tang curls something soft and sweet around Pigsy’s name like it knows.

Pigsy goes to work, and firmly refuses to look over his shoulder.

He can feel Not Tang’s eyes on him anyway.

MK doesn’t notice anything wrong with Tang. Mei doesn’t either. Not Tang tells MK a story, talks animatedly with Mei about her next race and promises to be there. Pigsy makes a bowl of noodles on autopilot and hands it to Not Tang. Not Tang holds the chopsticks differently. Not Tang doesn’t slurp up the noodles and fails to give Pigsy a smirk when he finishes the bowl, like Tang would have.

Pigsy is tense the whole day, and he waits until MK heads upstairs and the shop is closed to do anything.

“Can I walk you home? Figure we should talk. Haven’t seen ya in four days,” he jerks a thumb towards the door. Not Tang tilts his head to the side, and his glasses flash in a way that is so familiar, and yet makes Pigsy shiver again.

“Sure. I missed you.” And Pigsy is taken aback, because it sounds like Not Tang means it. Maybe he—no, he knows this isn’t Tang.

But how much is it not Tang?

They walk out of the store, and down a block or two. Pigsy doesn’t know where Tang lives, though he suspects somewhere near the library, but Not Tang is following his lead. Looks like Not Tang doesn’t know, either.

He grabs Not Tang by the scarf, and drags him into an alley. He slams Not Tang against the wall, hard but not too hard because Not Tang is still Tang’s body. Tang is still mortal.

“I don’t know who the hell you are,” he starts, and he lets his tusks out, baring his sharp teeth like a challenge, a growl in his throat. His eyes glow ocean blue, his nostrils flare. “But you better get the fuck out of my friend or—”

The words die in his throat as Not Tang laughs, cold and dark, and as he looks up and sees his own gaze met with something sharp and blue and icy.

“Or what, Bajie?”

His voice has an undercurrent of something familiar, another voice Pigsy recognizes. He wracks his brain.

“What, don’t recognize me? Not surprising, when only one of your troupe ever could.”

That has Pigsy stumbling back, because he knows, now, he knows what that means. It’s a stain on his pride, one of his many regrets, it’s—

“Baigujing,” he breathes, and she laughs.

“In the flesh, so to speak. Does he suit me?” she asks, tugging on Tang’s skin and hair like one might with clothes.

She frowns, tilts his head to the side at an unnatural angle. “I’m not a fan of red,” she tells him. Then Tang changes, hair black to white from the roots. It travels down, red to blue, silver to gold. His skin gains a blue tint, as well. The air around them drops in temperature, and Pigsy can see his breath.

She brushes herself off, takes a little bow, and all Pigsy can see is Tang who isn’t—this isn’t—how did she—

She takes a confident step forward, and Pigsy, in all his rage, still only sees blue.

“You get out of him right now, or—”

In a flash, she pulls out a knife and presses it against Tang’s throat. Pigsy sees a few spots of red from where she’s pressing the blade, and cool terror sinks down his spine. She wouldn’t, would she? He can’t be sure, with how she’s wielding the weapon like a promise. He takes a step forward out of panic, and stops when she raises a brow.

“You do anything but what I say, and I stain this new outfit.” She smiles, and it’s Tang’s smile, the one that Pigsy melts under the sight of every time.

But here, now, he’s ice. Fear roots him to the spot and Pigsy swallows the lump in his throat.

“And if I tell the others about ya when you aren’t looking at me?” he grinds out between gritted teeth.

She tilts her head to the side. “Why would they believe you? After all, you wouldn’t believe your own brother,” Pigsy flinches, remembering how easy it was to get Triptaka to banish Wukong, because Bajie never would pass up an opportunity to call his brother a liar, to hurt him. “Turnabout’s fair play, and you’re on the losing side.”

Pigsy clenches his fists. He can feel the desire to get big, to roar, to tear her out of him, rise in his chest. But this can’t be solved with violence, as easy as he wants it to be. Pigsy has never been good at diplomacy.

“What do you want,” he spits out.

She brushes Tang’s hair out of her eyes. They glow in the evening light, bright and malicious.

“I have a few errands, and while this mortal is useful, he is a bit...weak.” She flexes Tang’s fingers experimentally. “You’re quite the muscle. I think you’d be quite useful, hmm?��

Pigsy does know a challenge when he sees one, but this time, he’s backed into a corner, with no way out, so he slumps his shoulders.

“Alright. Just….just don’t hurt him.” It comes out a tired plea. “And stop-don’t ruin him like that.” He gestures to her getup. He’s sure she’s only showing him this to hurt him, because he wants Tang. Not whatever this abomination is. Just practically, it would give her away if she didn’t change back. Though he’s not sure how much of a choice he gets, regardless.

She sighs, but after a moment the pleasant red and gold return, and Tang’s hair is black again.

“Fine. Picky, though,” she places Tang’s hand on his cheek, cupping the side of his face, and Pigsy’s cheeks warm. When he looks up, everything about Tang looks normal, except the blue rims on the glasses. He looks away.

“Tomorrow,” he tells her. “We’ll start tomorrow. And once-once I’m done, you’re out of him, got it?”

He glares, and she smiles, Tang’s mouth curving into something more unhinged. Brown eyes glow light blue.

“It’s a date.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tang doesn’t remember the few days that he disappears. He doesn’t even remember disappearing, to be honest. He just walks to the noodle shop as if nothing is wrong, because to him, nothing is.

He can tell that something off, though. Not wrong, but off, because when he walks the feeling of his feet against the ground is muted. Everything is a little muted, like all of his senses are muffled by something. He shakes his head a few times, to try and break through the fog. It doesn’t work.

He waves at Pigsy when he walks in, and then nearly jumps when he’s grabbed. He tries to open his mouth to say something, but suddenly everything goes cold, and he’s pushed back into his own head. Someone else takes the reins, Something Else moves his lips.

Family emergency, he hears himself say. He sees the reflection of himself in Pigsy’s eyes. His glasses are different. Pigsy notices.

He watches the Something Else make Pigsy very aware that the Something Else exists, and then he is thrown into the passenger’s seat. When MK comes over to ask for a story, Tang is allowed to tell him one. When Mei talks about her next race, Tang can avidly respond.

He keeps trying to explain that something’s wrong, to them, but when he opens his mouth to try and say the words nothing comes out, or the Something Else will say something. A joke, or a fact, or nothing at all, and doesn’t silence sometimes speak the loudest.

It knows too much about him and the longer he knows it’s in his head, the more he can feel it, cool tendrils poking into memories he’d rather have private. It searches, it pries, and it leaves no stone left unturned, leaving Tang feeling vulnerable, invaded.

The day ends. Pigsy asks to walk him home and Tang finds himself agreeing before he can stop himself, before it can. He wonders if it even tried.

They walk, and it’s only a matter of time before Pigsy snaps. Tang is honestly surprised it hasn’t happened sooner, when he’s unceremoniously thrown against the wall. It hurts, but much like his other senses, the pain is muted. He knows Pigsy isn’t using his full strength though. Pigsy can throw people five times his size out the door with ease.

He follows the conversation with bated breath, and then he sees something like recognition flicker in Pigsy’s eyes, and he hears Baigujing, and it says Bajie, and—

Oh.

There’s a knife to his throat.

He sees his reflection in Pigsy’s wide eyes. His hair is white. His eyes are a startling, glowing blue, and he can feel blood welling up where the knife pierces his skin.

Pigsy buckles. Tang watches him leave.

“What do you want?” he asks, to the Something Else.

He gets farther and farther away from control with each step she takes in his skin, every moment he isn’t allowed to speak. He can feel cool shackles on his wrists, thick as steel.

“You like him very much, don’t you?” A voice, chilling and cruel, rings in his ears. Tang doesn’t need her to specify who she’s referencing. They pass by a window, a storefront. She stops, and turns to it, so Tang can see her smile with his mouth in the reflection.

Tang’s blood turns to ice, and he wonders if it’s because she’s the one in his body or if it’s just his fear, in the end. She grins wider, and Tang’s helplessness and terror grow.

“I am going to break him, and you are going to watch.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day Pigsy is quiet. He doesn’t say much besides telling MK to take out the orders placed on the counter. His eyes occasionally flick to her, to Tang, to the thing sitting on the counter that looks familiar in looks alone.

Pigsy knows he has to remember. He can’t forget that this isn’t Tang. Even when he sees her sitting on the same barstool with that same smile, when she learns how Tang holds his chopsticks and learns how Tang eats, even when she is already perfecting something that everyone else sees is perfect.

This isn’t Tang. Pigsy can’t forget that.

That night, she gestures for Pigsy to follow her. He does, walking step by step with her, waiting for her to tell him what to do. She takes him toward the marketplace, where Pigsy goes to get his ingredients a few times a month.

“You remember that Spider Queen, don’t you? Quite the adventure we had,” she says, and Pigsy bristles at the implication.

“You weren’t there,” he growls out.

She places a hand on Tang’s chest, expression one of mock offense. “How could I not have been? I mean, you were there with me. Is this not the skin?” she tugs on the fleshy part of Tang’s wrist, hard enough that the skin goes red.

Pigsy says nothing, and shrugs.

“Regardless, the Spider Queen will get in my way if she isn’t handled, so you’ll take care of her. Better to squash a bug before it grows.” She points to the Spider Queen’s stall.

“I don’t kill anymore,” Pigsy grunts.

He hasn’t for years. He took that part of himself and locked it away, made himself small because he wanted people to feel safe around him without being scared of what he could do. He doesn’t kill. He makes people food, he doesn’t harm them more than any other mortal could.

The knife is back out, and Pigsy knows where she’ll imply it going.

“I do,” she purrs. “And you’re mine, so you do too.”

Pigsy clenches his fists, and shifts.

He’d imagined showing Tang his demon form. Imagined preparing for months, carefully explaining. Imagined going someplace remote, someplace theirs, and revealing himself. Imagined scenarios where Tang ran, imagined scenarios where Tang stayed.

He grows tall, and burly, and looming and powerful. He’s about eight feet tall, here, with the muscles to match the height. His rake appears in his hand, prongs sharp. It’s as tall as he is, and the prongs are longer than his forearm. She looks up at him with an impressed expression that looks wrong on Tang’s face, yet makes Pigsy’s cheeks burn anyway.

“Magnificent,” she breathes, and he shivers at the sound.

He holds his rake tight, setting it on his shoulder and glancing over to the stall. He tries to stop his hands from shaking, as she leads him to the entrance.

“Give me a lift, won’t you dear?” she asks and Pigsy grits his teeth.

He lifts Tang up, gentle with his body because even if Tang isn’t the one asking Pigsy will be damned if he hurts him like this, and they descend.

The Spider Queen’s lair is as eerie as he remembers it, though it seems to have been upgraded. There are pods of glowing green liquid everywhere, and a computer as well. He catches what looks like a human bent over it, tapping at keys and sighing to himself.

“Is it done yet? The world needs its Queen to return.” He hears her voice from the right, and shifts a little to hide as she comes in. The man at the computer stiffens, and turns around at perfect attention, bowing.

“U-Unfortunately, such a complex undertaking is going to take more time, my Queen,” the man trembles out.

“What are you waiting for?” Tang’s voice slithers into his ear, and Pigsy fights back the urge to growl, letting out a huff of a breath and narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

“An opening,” he replies.

“This has to be done by New Years! I want to start the Year of the Spider on time,” she growls the last part out.

“Y-Yes, my Queen,” The scientist replies.

She turns away, and that’s when Pigsy jumps down. She just barely dodges his rake and Tang jumps off of his shoulder to settle in the shadows. Fine. Now Pigsy doesn’t have to worry about him getting caught in the crossfire.

The Spider Queen recovers quickly, getting into a battle stance. She gives him a once over, and then smirks.

“So the pig is back to fight, hmm? I would have liked to see you in this form last time,” She purrs out the words, chuckling to herself.

Pigsy charges without response. He swings his rake, she ducks, throwing out a sharp leg. He blocks with his arm and grunts when the blade edge of her leg digs in. He lifts a leg and kicks her, no holds barred where her humanesque body and her spider body meet. A weak point.

She lets out a shout of rage as she’s knocked back. He slices to the right, knocking off her helmet. Long, messy black hair tumbles down in front of her face. She pushes it back, darts forward, throwing out some webs.

He dodges the first few, but one catches him by the foot, trapping him to the floor. He twists and dodges as best he can when he can’t move, but she’s closing in.

He throws out the rake, in a last ditch attempt as she goes in for the killing blow, and catches her neck between two of the prongs, following through with the swing, bringing her crashing down onto her side.

“Fool!” she grits out, twisting her legs to try and stand. “I am the Queen of this world! I will feed you to my subjects, you—”

Pigsy twists the rake in one sharp motion.

Crack.

She goes very silent, and very still. Pigsy breathes, as her body slumps down on itself.

Okay.

Pigsy slowly, carefully, pulls away the rake.

He waits for movement. He finds none.

Okay.

“Do try and make sure she stays dead.”

He jumps at the sound, turning around to see Tang.

Tang is watching. Tang. Tang watched—

Not Tang. He has to remember that.

Her eyes glitter in the low light.

“A broken neck can be fixed. Make sure she can’t come back. Wouldn’t want to have to deal with a vengeful Queen, right?” She gestures to the corpse.

Pigsy grips his rake tightly.

The prongs go through flesh far too easily.

He thinks they’re about done, but then she points to the computer. More specifically, to the man cowering beneath the control panel of the computer.

“No witnesses,” she says. “Get rid of him.”

Pigsy is frozen in his spot.

“Please,” the man begs. “I didn’t want to help, I had no choice! She was going to kill me-I-I’ll destroy everything I did! I’ll delete the code. Everything!”

“You misunderstand.” Tang-she-walks carefully towards the cowering mortal. “We didn’t do this to save the world. We did this to get her out of my way.”

Dawning horror flashes on the man’s face.

Pigsy hesitates. A demon is one thing, this is just a mortal. A human. Pigsy glances at the man, and imagines her pointing him at MK. Or Mei. He couldn’t. He can’t.

“Would you rather I do this?” She pulls out the knife, pointing it at the man. “I know you prefer him in red, though I hear blood is difficult to get off clothes.”

At the thought of Tang, who could be still in there, having to watch himself kill, Pigsy moves.

The man hedges his bets and runs. He ducks under the knife and Pigsy’s outstretched arm, sprints toward the exit, but Pigsy’s arm swings around after him. He can’t take more than a step forward because his foot is still stuck by the webs, but his legs are long and his arms much the same. He reaches over in a panic, and grabs the man by the head, aiming to muffle his shouting, stop him from doing anything while Pigsy tries to negotiate, when—

There’s a sickening crunch, and squelch, and the man goes limp.

Pigsy is very, very aware of the liquid dripping from between the spaces of his fingers. He’s afraid to open his hand.

She claps, then is at his side, cutting him free of the webs.

“Good work.” She pats him on the side.

Pigsy trembles. Slowly, he opens his hand.

All of his body falls but the head. The head.

Pieces drop, clattering or squishing or dripping. Pigsy’s hand is covered in it. Hair clings to his fingers. Skin folds in on itself on the ground, with nothing solid to hold it taut.

Pigsy feels like he’s going to be sick. He didn’t mean….he hasn’t taken this form in years, decades, he isn’t used to the power it holds. He didn’t mean to, he was panicked, he just, he needed the man to stop. That was it, it wasn’t on purpose, he didn’t mean—

“Feels good,” she whispers in his ear, somehow. “Doesn’t it?”

Pigsy stumbles away, trying to shake the pieces, the blood, the person off of his hand. He trips over the Spider Queen’s body and crashes into the computer, destroying it. His knees pull toward his chest as he tries to breathe.

It takes a good minute for him to realize that she’s rubbing a hand up and down his back in a comforting manner. He looks down at her, because even sitting he’s taller, and her smile is—that’s not hers.

“Tang?” his voice is hoarse. His tusks always get in the way of speaking.

Tang smiles. It’s soft, pitying, almost sympathetic.

Pigsy feels himself melt, a little. It’s almost familiar.

“It’s okay,” Tang says, but is it him? Pigsy doesn’t know if he wants it to be. A part of him craves the comfort of something familiar, another doesn’t want Tang to see him at his worst, covered in blood, with a body count.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Tang says, she says, Pigsy can’t tell. His head is already trying to process what he’s done. “Let’s go. C’mon.”

Pigsy lets himself be helped up. He lifts Tang onto his shoulder and climbs out of the cave, shivering when the chilly night air whips past him. He still has a few hours before he has to get up for work. He sets Tang down on the ground, shifts back to his smaller form.

Tang looms over him like this. Pigsy regrets becoming small.

“Shall we?” Tang gestures towards Pigsy’s apartment.

Pigsy nods, and they walk home. Once they arrive, Tang heads to the couch, and Pigsy to the bathroom. He scrubs and scrubs at his hands, until the water stops turning pink and then some. His palms burn, skin scraping against skin, but he can see the pieces that can’t fit in the drain.

He vomits, finally, in the toilet. He coughs, wiping his mouth, and hunches over the sink, glancing at himself in the mirror. Deep breaths. He just needs to remember that this will be over, eventually.

“I’m going to bed,” he calls, as he leaves the bathroom.

His hands are still shaking. His throat burns, and he lets it, maybe as a punishment. He doesn’t know.

“Goodnight!” Comes a voice that sounds too much like the real thing. Pigsy takes in a shuddering breath and vanishes into his bedroom.

He curls underneath the blankets and tries to get the cold feeling to escape his bones. It seems to settle in, regardless.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Whatever Tang had imagined she’d make Pigsy do, it wasn’t this. He watches as they head to the market, and then as Pigsy changes, per her request.

He wonders if Pigsy would have ever shown him this form otherwise. As is, Tang is terrified, but not of Pigsy. He’s worried for Pigsy. Because he knows the power Zhu Bajie can wield. here He knows that she knows, too.

Watching Pigsy fight and kill is as impressive as it is heartbreaking. He can see the shock, the horror, as Pigsy grapples with his actions. Tang can’t fight the revulsion when he sees Pigsy kill the poor bystander but at the same time he can’t hate him for it.

He could never hate Pigsy foremost, but in this instance, he can’t hold this carnage against him. Not when Pigsy curls in on himself, his bigger form trying to be as small as possible. Not when he won’t look at his own blood-stained hands.

He moves to take a step, stumbles as she throws him the controls. The longer he isn’t allowed to do anything, to speak, to move, the harder it is to get used to doing it when he has control. He wonders if he’ll forget how to walk eventually. He wonders if he’ll forget how to breathe.

He tries to comfort. He’s not allowed to tell Pigsy that it’s him, because she won’t let him, but he can comfort, because she needs Pigsy functioning for this to work. Maybe Tang should be offended that she’s using him, but truthfully, he just wants to do something to help Pigsy. He can’t just stand aside to watch. It’s almost worth being used if he’s used to help.

Pigsy looks at him, then. Tang wants to apologize. To beg for Pigsy to stop. He doesn’t know if Pigsy can recognize that it’s him, either. The words don’t make it to his throat and she throws him into the backseat again.

When they get home, Pigsy stays in the bathroom for too long. Tang hears the sound of retching and winces. He wishes he could do something, say something.

As he falls asleep, he still wishes he could apologize. For something. Anything. Everything.

He can’t feel his legs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Pigsy gets up and heads to work. Tang is sitting upright on the couch. Pigsy pointedly doesn’t look at him, quick while making breakfast, eating, and grabbing his chef’s coat before heading to the shop. He typically starts two hours before opening, setting up the dough, stringing out noodles.

He’s slow, today. His hands shake as he tries to work, he’s halfway to where he’s supposed to be when MK comes down, on time for once. He forces himself to speed up because he knows calls will be coming in soon.

He sets the broth to boil, stirring once, glancing down at it to check its progress, and—

It’s red.

It’s red and it’s spilling from his fingers, sticky and thick as it falls into the broth, the stench of it has him trembling violently enough that the spoon slips from his fingers. Pieces of hair and bone bubble up from the bottom, and Pigsy sees an empty eye socket, staring at him in terror, pleading horror, begging for mercy.

He grabs the pot and pours it into the sink, he can’t let anyone see it, can’t let anyone know what he’s done, the stains settling deep into his skin with no way out, no way to make it disappear. A man is dead. A man is dead and Pigsy killed him and it’s everywhere and everyone is going to know and he has to get rid of it.

When he pours it into the drain, there’s not a spot of red in it. He watches his half an hour’s worth of work disappear with an unsteady breath, setting the pot back on the stove and washing his hands. The water boils his fingers.

“Uh...Pigsy?” MK calls.

Pigsy turns and does not look in the direction where he knows Tang will be. He catches MK’s expression, brow is pinched in concern.

“What?” He doesn’t mean to growl the words out as he does.

“Um, why’d you do that? It looked almost ready,” MK points to the now empty pot.

Pigsy hides his shaking hands by clenching them into fists. “Bad batch,” He replies, succinct.

When he glances MK’s way, he imagines how easy it would be for him to repeat last night. Would it sound the same, the skull crunching in his grip quick, or would MK’s Monkey King powers offer enough resistance so that it’d be slow?

Pigsy remembers his old name, his old title, his old desires. He would fight with Sun Wukong and enjoy it. He is powerful, then and now.

He promised himself he wouldn’t be that person again, that he’d be better. But looking back at that journey, is it any wonder that he’s so quickly fallen back into the same bad habits? Zhu Bajie was rude, cruel, a liar.

Why’d Pigsy expect that he could change?

“A shame.”

He nearly jumps, at the sound of her voice, his voice. He glances at the blue rimmed glasses, brown eyes. Warm and cold.

“It looked delicious, at least,” Tang says, head resting on his palm. He smiles, soft.

Pigsy looks away.

He gets back to work.

Some of her jobs are simple. Break something, find an artifact. Pigsy learns not to ask questions, because none of the answers give him much comfort. Occasionally, Pigsy will get his hands messy, stained with the blood of demons. Those nights he barely sleeps, too busy trying to scrape the dried liquid from beneath his fingernails.

He justifies it, even though there is no true justification for the carnage. Thankfully, there haven’t been any more mortal deaths. The demons he fights are bad, he thinks, as he watches them bleed out on the floor. The demons he fights would be going after MK if he didn’t get rid of them first.

MK mentions offhandedly that there haven’t been as many demon fights recently. Pigsy horrifies himself with the sick satisfaction he feels, the pride that swells in his chest.

He’s able to justify his actions, but it doesn’t fix the gaping hole in his chest with every swing of his rake. The worst part, he thinks, is that it’s becoming easier to do. There’s a certain familiar numbness that comes with a higher and higher body count. He went through it thousands of years ago, when he first began fighting, and he goes through it now.

It settles in faster this time. Must be his experience.

He stays in the kitchen more often during the day. Ignores the banter between MK and Mei when they barrel in, only half hears the stories shared. He tries to lose himself in the motions of cooking, something that’s his, safe. He can still do this. So he’s fine.

She’s always there, either at the counter during the day or by his side at night. Pigsy makes a few valiant attempts to text someone, to tell them what’s happening, but she steals his phone and Pigsy isn’t allowed to touch it. She nearly cut off Tang’s finger when he attempted to take it back. He stops trying.

She follows him when he goes out, whether it be to the market or just on walks. No one raises an eyebrow at this—Pigsy has always stuck close to Tang, and vice versa. To the outside world, this is normal. She can tease and cloy and claw her way close to him and it’s just the silly antics everyone else expects. Any reaction Pigsy has is normal too, when he shouts and rages and pushes Tang away, because that’s just how he reacts. He’s loud and he’s mad.

He’s being played and he’s playing right into her clutches, but he doesn’t know what he can do.

Pigsy is so tired. Some days, he manages to convince himself that things will be fine, soon. He has to think it will be. If the demons were stronger than him, he thinks, maybe they’d deserve to live.

If they were stronger than him, maybe he’d get to stop.

Another development, one he can’t wrestle his feelings together on, is how Tang, how she, acts during their expeditions. There are lingering touches across his back, fingers trailing on his neck, a palm cupping his cheek. Sweet smiles thrown his way, gentle words whispered into his ear, arms curling around his form as he’s pressed against Tang’s body.

Every time he freezes, caught between revulsion and want, because he loves. Desperately.

That’s why he’s doing this after all. That’s why he even bothers. Sleepless nights, reopened wounds, returns to bad habits—it’s all for a man Pigsy cares just a little too much for.

She gets bolder with each passing night. Interlaces their fingers when he sets his hand on the counter during the day. Sends him compliments that make him weak in the knees. He knows that it’s not Tang, but sometimes he wonders. Maybe hopes.

Because she’ll smile at him, but it'll be Tang’s smile, soft and almost a smirk but never quite there. He doesn’t know if that means Tang is still in there or if she’s just getting better at pretending to be him.

He doesn’t know which is worse.

It’s a little over a month later, one night after a job that leaves Pigsy’s hands bloody and his eyes weary, that he gives way, collapses in on himself. He grabs Tang’s scarf in shaky hands and trembles, because he’s so tired. He misses his best friend. He misses the person he’d do anything for, the person he’s doing the unspeakable for.

“Please,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “Take me-just-I’m stronger than him-I won’t fight back, you can do all the damage you want just—” he chokes on the words. “Give him back to me. You can have me, just give him back.”

He takes a shuddering breath, blinking away tears. They fall down his face anyway.

“Please.”

He trembles against Tang, something familiar made foreign because she’s stolen it from him, against something as silence fills the space.

Soft hands lift his chin and he hears a chuckle so familiar. He hates that doesn’t know who is laughing.

“Oh, Pigsy,” And it’s her, and it’s Tang, and Pigsy searches for understanding as a thumb brushes away his tears. She, Tang, leans down until their eyes are level.

Pigsy searches for something familiar in them.

His favorite color is the color of Tang’s eyes, brown with a hint of red, soft and warm.

“Why would I need you, when you’re already giving yourself to me?”

And then Tang-she-his lips collide with Pigsy’s and-and-and—

Pigsy’s eyes are wide. This is-he’s wanted this for years, it’s everything, nothing, all at once.

He shouldn’t like this. This isn’t-it isn’t Tang. But Pigsy is pressed against the wall as Tang’s body leans forward, like everything Pigsy has ever wanted, and Pigsy closes his eyes. He closes his eyes and forgets, just for a moment, where he is and what’s happening, decides to be selfish.

When his eyes are closed, he can’t see anything. He can only feel Tang’s hands on the sides of his face, holding him so tenderly, Pigsy’s hands still bunched up in that scarf. He can’t see the glowing blue eyes, or the smirk, he can only feel the smile against his lips.

Tang pulls away first. Pigsy drops his hands and nearly trips over himself, eyes wide open again to blue eyes and a wide smile and a laugh that is cruel and knowing.

“My, my, that sure was something! You really are desperate, aren’t you?” she says.

Pigsy wipes his mouth, trembling. He feels sick, not because he didn’t like it, but because he did. Does.

“You-I—” he tries to explain himself, but she tuts and walks forward with a small smile on her face, patting him on the head like one would a dog.

“It’s alright, I understand. For a mortal, he is attractive.” She fiddles with Tang’s hair.

Pigsy wants to throw up. He wants to scream. He wants to throttle her, but he can’t hurt Tang.

He might have already.

How much does Tang see, does Tang feel? Did he see this, feel this? Did he watch Pigsy use him, like the monster he is, because Pigsy is selfish? The thoughts spiral deeper and deeper into something self destructive and Pigsy bites on his thumb hard enough to make it bleed.

“If it’s any consolation, he loves you too,” she says, and Pigsy freezes. “Do you think he never noticed how your hand would twitch toward his? You’re terribly obvious, but he’s a coward as well.”

Pigsy feels his breathing pick up.

Tang, he, he love-loved? Past tense, did Pigsy ruin it? Did he break something he never even had? Might not ever have, now?

A hand trails across his back and Pigsy shudders.

“No need to worry.” She leans in close, until Pigsy can feel her cool breath against his ear. “If you’re good, I think I can make this happen again.”

And then she walks away, leaving him in the wreckage. Pigsy breathes, clenches and unclenches his fists, fighting back the urge to cry because he doesn’t have the energy for more tears. He moves to leave, when—

“It seems you do have a bit of control left,” he hears, right before she’s out of earshot.

Everything goes cold.

What does that mean? Was the kiss...was that Tang? Or was it-what does that mean?

The more he thinks about it, the more his head goes through loops. Tang is in there. Tang has control-some, a bit, no specifics. Pigsy isn’t a thinker, he doesn’t know how possession works. Maybe-maybe Pigsy isn’t as terrible as he thinks he is. Maybe that means, maybe, it wasn’t all a lie?

His walk home takes ten minutes longer than it should. He keeps bringing up his fingers to his mouth, tracing the spaces where Tang’s lips slotted into, like a perfect puzzle. Every part of him she touched tingles like static, and Pigsy can’t think, can’t find a single thought. If it wasn’t Tang, if it was just her...

He doesn’t know how to cope with the fact that he doesn’t want this. Not like this.

He doesn’t know how to cope with the fact that deep down, he does. Regardless.

What kind of monster does that make him?

Is it worse than the one he already is?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tang is quiet when she kisses Pigsy. He doesn’t feel anything, touch long lost to his senses, floating in empty space. Some days, he doesn’t know where he ends and she begins but he knows that he has no weight to himself, not anymore.

He’s quiet, an ache in his chest growing ever painful as Pigsy gives in, and he wonders if it would have been like this if it were him. Something in the heat of the moment, passionate, real.

He wonders and grieves a life he isn’t having. She uses his mouth and whispers sickly sweet nothings and turns Pigsy around so that Tang isn’t sure that Pigsy knows what’s up and what’s down. She walks away and leaves Pigsy to try and collect himself, and all Tang wants to do is say sorry.

For what, he isn’t sure. This isn’t his doing. But that was him all the same.

Tang bows his head and sniffles. He watches her wipe his eyes.

“It seems you do have a bit of control left,” she says, staring down at the tears in his palm. She flicks the water away. “Get over yourself. If you wanted this, you should have made it happen. You had plenty of time.”

And the worst part, Tang thinks, is that with the years he’s known Pigsy, he knows she’s right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pigsy tries to keep some semblance of normalcy after that, though it’s hard. He can feel Tang’s eyes on him, gaze lingering as Pigsy moves, day after day. He tries to keep his cheeks from flushing, tries from reacting at all, when Tang looks his way. He forces himself to remember that the kiss wasn’t right, wasn’t Tang.

But at the same time he can’t forget what he heard. What it could mean. Pigsy has mired himself in despair so deeply that the scrap of hope he feels is enough to keep him teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something selfish.

There’s a change in the air between them, he knows. MK and Mei notice too, as much as he tries to keep this from them, keep them safe. He doesn’t want them trapped, like he is. He couldn’t handle it if they were.

“You guys have been acting weird.” Mei hops up to the counter as she speaks, glancing between Tang and Pigsy with squinted eyes.

“Oh?” Tang asks, leaning his head on his hand.

Not Tang.

“Yeah, you guys have been real clingy,” MK slings an arm around Mei’s shoulders, rubbing his chin with his hand.

Mei brightens.

“You guys have finally gotten together, haven’t you!” She points an accusatory finger at the both of them.

Pigsy freezes. Flushes from his feet all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Tang laughs, a soft, sweet, bell of a laugh.

“Were we that obvious?” Tang chuckles into his sleeve.

Mei bounces in her seat, and MK looks away, a little flustered himself at the idea.

“Uh, totally! We, uh, we both saw this coming. Yeah.” Pigsy would laugh at MK’s poor attempt at a lie if he wasn’t frozen in place, stuck between horror and something else he can’t acknowledge.

Some part of him wants to pretend this is real. Some part of him, growing with every passing second, wants to play along until he forgets it’s a game. Because he’s been fed emptiness and sadness and helplessness and, suddenly, there’s this hope—maybe false, maybe real, dangling in front of him.

There’s something good, and something kind, and something Pigsy needs. Something so cold it becomes warm and Pigsy would like to be warm.

“How’d it happen! I want details!” Mei leans forward, face a few inches away from Tang’s, and Pigsy fights the urge to pull her away from him. He doesn’t know if it’s because he wants to keep her safe or him.

Tang goes into a story, dipping into the tone he would with Monkey King tales, and Pigsy feels the edges of static crawling up his neck, a high pitched tone drowning out the noise of conversation as he tries to make sense of the situation he’s in.

How did he even get to this point? He traces back memory after memory, but nothing makes sense. The pieces don’t fall into place, even as he finds each and every one to try and put it all together. It’s like someone has sanded the edges down, or covered them in ice, so they slip and scrape against each other. Pigsy stands still, and slowly swivels his head to glance at his family, Mei and MK and Tang, all situated at his counter, like they’ve always belonged.

He keeps reminding himself that it isn’t Tang, not really. But is it so terrible to pretend? When he’s already worse than he’s ever been?

“It was really special. Right, Pigsy?” Tang turns to him with an expectant grin, and Pigsy flushes again, a color Tang once told him was a dusty rose.

He doesn’t snap. He bends, because when you bend, the cracks are slow to break. And Pigsy has always taken things slow, hasn’t he?

“Right.” He steps forward, his hand beneath Tang’s chin. Tang has always been the most handsome person Pigsy has ever seen, and how could that change, even with blue rims?

Tang’s lips brush against the side of his face, for the effect of MK and Mei’s groans, and Pigsy smiles.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tang trusts Pigsy with his life

That goes without saying. As he forgets what it feels like to move his fingers, as he forgets what taste is, he knows above all else that he can trust Pigsy with his life.

After all, Pigsy is why he’s alive at all. Anyone else would have buckled under the pressure by now, being the slave of the Baigujing. Anyone else would have made a mistake that would have left Tang a bleeding corpse on the ground.

Pigsy shoulders on, regardless of everything, because he values Tang’s life above all else. Tang knows this. That’s why he trusts Pigsy.

But things are changing, just a little. Pigsy’s desperation for something real, for Tang as he’s meant to be, is dying. Somehow, she’s bewitched the love of his life into something that is becoming unrecognizable. And Tang, though he is losing the memory of touch, of taste, of movement, finds this somehow more terrifying, more horrifying.

To see Pigsy vanish, just as Tang did, with no one making him disappear but himself.

Pigsy leans into her false touches. He melts into the kisses she forces upon him. His resistance falls slow and Tang can do nothing but watch and wonder quietly, as numbness threatens to swallow him whole.

He trusts Pigsy with his life.

But he doesn’t know which life Pigsy is trying to save.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It keeps happening.

At night, when he gets moments of clarity, when he remembers how awful everything is, Tang will be there with honeyed words and precious touches to sweep Pigsy off of his feet and forget. Pigsy will be horrified by the sight of death in one moment and locked in an embrace in the next, kissed with a passion he can’t help but return.

“You’re so strong,” Tang will say, with reverence to his tone. “It’s incredible.”

Not Tang.

Pigsy will fight against the pride that comes from the compliment, then fail every time to stifle it. Because he is strong, incredibly so, and he is powerful, and he can swipe through any demon with ease.

Nevermind the brothers, crying out for each other when he’d separated them, the way one had gone pale and quiet when the other went still, because they were a pair made one. You can’t kill a pair at the same time, unfortunately.

Pigsy knows he should feel guilty, should fight more. Knows that this isn’t right, it isn’t real. It’s so easy to forget, though, so easy to cling to something good when everything else hurts.

It’s so easy to set aside the memories of how wrong it all is. So easy to hide it all away, focus on the elation, the kind smiles, the gentle touches. Tang washes blood off of Pigsy’s hands when they get home—it’s their home, how could he forget—and curls up with Pigsy in the night, holding him close, and Pigsy clings, because he needs this. Needs something that makes him feel like things are okay.

The thoughts reminding him that this isn’t Tang start to slip through Pigsy’s fingers. He finds himself relaxing around the shop, smiling when he sees Tang at his seat, squeezing back when Tang interlocks their fingers.

Why fight it? Sometimes it hurts, and god does it, but there’s something so lovely about it now, everything he ever wanted with a price he’s fine paying.

When you take a pig out of its domestic environment, it easily turns wild. Hair, tusks, a penchant for violence. And Pigsy hasn’t been out of his domestic environment in years, but he’s a pig, in the end, lost in the wilderness of an icy forest and blue eyes.

“Hey, Pigsy?” MK’s voice comes from behind him.

Pigsy turns from his work to see his boy at the counter, wiping it down as he waits for orders to come in.

“What?” He glances between the pot and MK, deciding the pot will be fine for a few seconds.

“Are you doing okay? You, uh, you’ve been kind of quiet,” MK rubs the back of his neck, awkwardly.

Pigsy opens his mouth and closes it. He glances to the empty seat. Tang’s empty seat.

He doesn’t actually know where Tang has gone, but it’s so rare for it to happen. Pigsy tries to remember the last time Tang wasn’t in his spot during the day, but tracing memories that far back is like poking at the wreckage of a shattered pot; you’re bound to draw blood.

The tiny vestiges of resistance crawl from ash and leave burning fingerprints on the forefront of his mind.

Tell him, he hears himself think. Tell him! This is your chance!

But the truth is so, so painful, and Pigsy doesn’t have it in himself to shatter this equilibrium. Isn’t it so much kinder to let it settle beneath the surface, to hide the pain and make it so no one knows at all? He doesn’t want MK to look at him with horror and disgust. He doesn’t want to have to try to fix something that might be broken beyond repair.

This is nice. This is okay. He’s happy like this. Why ruin it?

He reaches over and ruffles MK’s hair. MK playfully smacks his hands away, and Pigsy chuckles.

“It’s my job to worry about you, kid,” he tells him. “I’m fine. Orders will be out in a minute.”

He waves MK off, and goes back to cooking.

Tang appears a minute later, in his seat.

“Hey,” Pigsy hears, and he turns, leaning on the little divider between the kitchen and the dining area.

“Hey, yourself,” he replies, and Tang smiles and kisses him soundly. Pigsy’s brain short circuits.

“What was that for?” He asks, something like incredulous elation in his voice as he laughs.

Tang’s face screams victory. Pigsy wonders what he’s won.

“Oh, I just felt like it.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He supposes he has his answer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s finishing up another job at the end of the month when Tang claps his hands together.

“Well, I think that’s it,” he says and Pigsy freezes, realizing what may come. “I don’t really have any other errands to run, and you’ve done your end of the bargain. I’ll be out by morning.”

No, Tang can’t go, he can’t. If Tang leaves, then what will Pigsy be? He needs this. Tang, Tang’s good for him.

He whirls around, and a hand reaches over to rest on Tang’s shoulder. Tang. Tang is good.

“I-wait-but,” Pigsy finds it so hard to articulate his thoughts nowadays.

He’s always been the muscle, Tang is the smart one. Pigsy is good at doing, not talking. He shouldn’t speak when everything comes out scrambled anyway.

“Use your words, now, dear,” Tang says, and Pigsy melts, like he always does. How can he not, when Tang is looking at him like that? Like Pigsy is his?

“I want to-you can stay-can you? I need you to stay. Please?”

Because Tang makes Pigsy feel whole, makes Pigsy feel loved. He can do whatever Tang wants him to do, whatever Tang needs, Pigsy will make it happen.

Tang’s fingers trail down Pigsy’s face. Pigsy leans into the touch, even though Tang’s fingers are cold. Tang feels cold, but that’s okay. Pigsy doesn’t mind.

“Oh, Pigsy,” and it’s Tang. Pigsy searches for understanding, as a thumb brushes away his fears, soft. Tang leans down until their eyes are level. Pigsy finds familiarity in them, like he’s known them for an eternity.

His favorite color is the color of Tang’s eyes, blue with a hint of white, hard and cold.

“All you had to do is ask,” Tang leans forward, and his lips brush against Pigsy’s, and Pigsy leans in.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When ice touches the ocean, there is no crash. The ocean fights back against the shift in form at first, but eventually is quieted by the power ice wields. The ice smothers, the ice settles on top as a slate, and the sea goes still, everything hidden beneath, never to reach the surface.

Tang watches, from the prison in his mind, and the cuffs on his wrists are so much tighter. He can't feel where the cuffs end and his arms begin. He can’t feel his hands. He can’t feel anything. All he has left is his vision, which is more a cruelty than a blessing.

When ice meets the earth it fills in the crevices left by time and expands, cracking stones apart and leaving it crumbling in its wake.

Tang curls in on himself as she shows him a kiss he never got to give, as Pigsy leans in with no hesitation, lost in something Tang can’t save him from. He curls away from the sight and tries to pretend that things can get better, that they can be saved, but he doesn’t know. Not when it hurts this much. Not when he’s lost this much.

Something like betrayal rests bitterly in his stomach. Pigsy left him. For an imitation, Pigsy left him, and Tang knows there’s more there, knows there has to be, has seen it unravel, but it doesn’t change the fact.

Pigsy made his choice, and Tang is the one suffering the consequences.

Tang crumbles quietly. He doesn’t even know, here, if he has eyes to cry from. It feels like he’s crying.

It feels like he’s screaming. No one hears. Even him.

If the water is still, it does not crash against the earth. There is no tide, and the earth remains unchanging. Except, even without the waves, time erodes it all.

Tang has nothing but himself and time.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid tang #monkie kid pigsy #freenoodleshipping #dark freenoodleshipping #kitkat1003 #this iis fucked

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smarchit · 3 years

Text

Look Around, Look Around pt 6

Summary: You escaped an abusive marriage, pregnant with your husband’s child. He sends a bounty hunter after you to bring you back. Everything changes. Din Djarin/pregnant!reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Pregnancy/related topics, implied/referenced rape, mentions of abuse, blood, labor

Notes: Blown away by Tumblr’s response to this tbh. I’m absolutely overwhelmed by all the kind comments <3

He was supposed to take you back to Sorgan after that job. Supposed to take you back and let you spend the last few weeks of your pregnancy in comfort, let you give birth there in safety.

You managed to convince him to take you to a few more planets under the guise of wanting to see if there were any cities with salt baths that would help your swollen feet and legs. He knew you were lying through your teeth, but he never said anything one way or the other.

Now at a little over eight months pregnant and with your own gravitational pull, you walked through a vibrant market place of a large, exotic city during the height of their local fertility festival. You had been given baskets laden with blankets, food, and natural home remedies for easing the pain of birth.

People threw colorful powders and fragrant flowers in the streets at one another and it was extremely difficult not to get caught in their crossfire. You were certain that you were covered in vibrant color - you may have even been the target on more than one occasion because of your pregnancy. Not that you minded. You were having too much fun.

The little one was captivated by brightly colored dancers that spit fire in brilliant arcs across the path. The bells on their ankles caught his attention more and whenever one would cartwheel in front of his pod, he would make a grab for them, despite the gentle scolds from Mando.

You currently were sitting at a round patio table at an outdoor café. Lively music from a nearby band was muffled slightly by the crowd enough that you could speak without losing your voice.

"This is amazing!" you said to Mando, who looked incredibly out of place amidst bright colors and bare skin of the locals. He shifted in his seat and you knew he was scanning the crowd for potential threats. It wasn't personal, and it wasn't anything against the planet or its inhabitants, but more just who Mando was as a person.

Good gods, did the man ever relax?

Mando had ordered a cup of soup for the child, and expressed his displeasure for you turning down food.

"You need to eat something," he said firmly, straightening his back.

"I'm not hungry," you sighed. "The moon is currently displacing my vital organs."

"Your moon is exactly why you have to try to eat something," he said with a sigh. He shook his head and looked back over at the child, who was glancing between the two of you. When Mando looked at him, he smiled and babbled.

"She's moving around a lot in there today," you groaned, rubbing one side of your belly. "Take it easy, little moon. We're not going anywhere."

"Must be getting cramped in there," Mando hummed without looking back at you. He did another once over of the crowd and then sighed.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

He shrugged. "Just too crowded."

"Not a people-person, Mando?" you hummed.

"You wouldn't be either if you were me."

You supposed that was true. Even a few months ago you wouldn't have come to a place like this where bodies touched and jostled on either side of you. You got comfortable, but you imagined if you were in his boots, you would hate places like this. Too much chaos. Too many things that could go wrong.

"We should go," he said after a moment. He grabbed a basket and helped you to your feet before guiding you through a dip in the crowd.

It took a while to reach the hangar where the Crest was located due to the throng of bodies in your way.

Once you arrived back, Mando handed you a towel to wipe powder from your hair and clothes.

"The puck got activated," he said grimly as he locked the hatch.

You were shaking flower petals from your hair and the smile instantly dropped from your face.

"What?"

Mando turned to you. "I knew it was too easy. He let you go too easily for that to be the end of it."

You walked backwards until you found a seat and lowered yourself into it. Your heart pounded in your ears and you barely registered his words.

Your husband knows exactly where you are.

He knew what you were doing, where you were going, he might even know where you planned on giving birth. Would he attack then? When you were raw and vulnerable, bed soaked in your blood and eyes wild with instinct?

Like a caged animal. Though injured animals will do anything to protect themselves.

"Hey, hey, don't give out on me," Mando said loud enough to draw you from your fear. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you gently so you would look at him. "You're safe with me, okay? I'm not going to let him take you."

"Why is he-- Why is he doing this?" you whispered as you felt tears start to fall. You could barely speak. The thought of him finding you touching you, putting his hands on you... On your baby. It made you sick. It made you scared. It made you angry.

"Because he's a coward," Mando said softly, guiding your face back to look at him when you glanced away. "He's small; he has to hurt others to feel better. You are safe. You and your moon." He placed a warm hand on your belly. The baby flip flopped in response.

"Please don't let him get me," you begged. "Promise me. Not me. Not my baby."

Mando looked at you and nodded. "I promise." He leaned up on his knees and pressed his forehead to yours. He held the position for a moment before he got to his feet.

"We're leaving this planet right now," he said. He picked up the baby and set him back in his pod and turned to set coordinates.

"Where will we go?" you asked, suddenly feeling like the smallest person in the galaxy. "Where will we go that he can't find us?"

"I have a few places in mind," he said as the ship dragged itself out of the planet's atmosphere. "Safe places."

"Sorgan?" you asked hopefully.

He paused for a minute. "Sorgan isn't safe. If he knows you were there he'll have people there waiting."

You held on tight as he punched in the coordinates for some unknown planet in on the pad.

What would you do if it came down to capture and return?

You couldn't help but cry. You looked down at your stomach and cupped both hands around it.

"I'm so sorry, little one," you whispered.

***

A few hours later, Mando dropped the ship out of hyperspace. A planet lay before you, dark and unfriendly looking in the blackness of space. There were a few lights from cities spread out in the far reaches of the large sprawling continent, but beyond that, you could see nothing.

"What is this place?" you asked.

"Arvala-7," he replied. "I had a... Friend who lived here. Worked on a moisture farm. Helped me with the kid."

"He doesn't live here anymore?" you asked, forcing yourself out of your seat with difficulty. You ignored the pain in your belly and back - normal for this late in your pregnancy. False labor couldn't detract from your fears right now.

"He died," Mando said softly.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't reply and started the deceleration to land in a remote section of desert.

"You should be safe here," he said as he lowered the hatch for the two of you to step out.

"Should be?"

He nodded. "Should be."

"How could he find me?" you asked softly as Mando set about shouldering open the long-locked front door.

"Tracking pucks," he grunted, throwing his whole body against the door. He let out a rather undignified cry as he fell inside when the lock finally gave way and the door banged open. When he stood he fished one out of his pocket and held it out in his palm to you. It flashed a rapid red as it neared you. "That's how."

"Why now?" you asked. Rage welled up in your heart at the thought of this vile man getting a hold of you again.

"Probably just wants to scare you," he said as he set about tidying the little house up. "Knows that baby is coming soon. Just wants to stress you out more."

As if on cue, a particularly rough false contraction hit and you vaulted forward to grip the edge of the table. You arched your back, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

"Oh, kriff," you gasped, gritting your teeth. You squeezed your eyes shut and took a few deep breaths in and out. "Maker, I don't want to know how bad the real thing is gonna be."

"You won't be alone," Mando said softly as he placed a hand on your back.

"Yeah, well," you gasped, "No offense, but have you ever delivered a baby?"

Mando was quiet.

"Yeah, didn't think so."

"You'll be fine," he assured. "Sit. I'm gonna go look around, see what we can salvage and use."

You sighed and nodded. "If you need help, let me know. Sometimes walking helps with the pain."

He looked around at the state of the main living room. "Okay. Here, I'm gonna fix the bed. You go and get the blankets from the ship. Take a few trips if they're heavy."

You took the key from him and started back towards the ship, a hand grasping your belly. It's okay, my moon.

As you boarded the ship and headed towards the bedroom, you heard what sounded like voices from the cockpit. Taunting voices drifted down the ladder and through the corridor to you, though you couldn't make out what was being said. As your heart hammered away in your chest, you tiptoed to the ladder to ascend to the cockpit.

It became obvious to you as soon as you breached the top of the ladder that the voices were on a recording, an old transmission that must've automatically started playing when the ship picked up a bio feedback on board.

"...don't worry, Mando. We just want the little whore you been travelling with. Not that ugly kid," a low voice growled up at you from the holopad. A thin blue image of a burly, bald man was staring up at you and illuminating the otherwise dark cockpit. "Ain't got nothin' to worry about with us. In and out, like always. She got a good price out on her, and with that baby intact, there's a double offer on 'em. So we call it even, got it? Besides, Xi'an misses you."

Your heart was pounding in your throat as you sank into the pilot's chair. Mando was right. People were looking for you.

A chilling thought entered your mind and no matter how much you tried, you couldn't shake it.

Did Mando turn you in?

You broke out in a cold sweat as you glanced around the cockpit for something that could be used as a weapon. If he knew that you saw this message...

Maybe he didn't have to know you saw it. After all, he just sent you in here to get the bedding. He wouldn't know... You hit delete, hoping maybe he wouldn't find out about it.

You quickly descended the ladder and retrieved some of the bedding and carried it down the ramp of the ship.

Mando was tending to the moisture tanks a little way away from the house and you eyed him warily. It was the first time in six months you had not trusted him.

Why would he wait until now? Were he and his friends waiting to literally snatch the baby from between your legs and drag you by your hair, kicking and screaming to your ex-husband, a bloody trail dragging behind you?

Mando wouldn't do that. You knew he wouldn't. So why now were you so afraid? Was it just the mounting anxiety of new motherhood catching up to you?

You busied yourself as best you could while you waited for him to come back to the house, both by trying to clean up all the dust that gathered and by watching the baby.

He had been uneasy the last few days, especially around you. He would babble softly and reach for you to pick him up, which you had been having trouble doing due to the fact that you could barely bend over.

One time he cried so hard and so loud that Mando ended up taking him for a walk off the ship until he fell asleep so your breasts would stop leaking and soaking through your shirt.

The lights came on automatically a few hours later and were droning steadily for half an hour by the time Mando came back inside

"So bad news," he said with a tired sigh as he dropped into a chair at the rickety kitchen table. "Moisture tanks are busted to hell. Looks like Jawas scavved the machinery. I tried to salvage what I could but no luck."

"What are we going to do?" you asked softly.

Mando shrugged. "Gonna have to go find somewhere. We're gonna need a lot of it, especially when that baby decides to make an appearance."

"Should I come with y--"

"No. You're gonna stay here," he said firmly. "I'll leave my gun and a knife for you."

"You're going to leave?" you asked, heart racing.

"I'll only be gone a couple of hours," he said, getting to his feet. He unholstered his blaster and took a knife from his sheath. "Safety is off on that. Use it like I taught you if something happens, okay?"

He handed them both to you and picked up the baby. "I'll leave the ship. If anyone comes, you go inside and you lock that door. Nothing on this planet will get inside. I'll be back by morning."

Mando came over to you and cupped his hand around the back of your head and pulled you close to press his forehead against yours. Second time he's done that...

He seemed hesitant to pull away from you. He placed the baby in his pod and looked back at you, his shoulders tense and squared.

"You'll be safe here. I promise," he said as he opened the door. "I'm gonna take the kid with me. You need to take it easy and he'll just be upset the whole time."

You looked at him, eyes wide with fear as you watched him leave.

For a moment, you debated telling him about the message on his ship. But you knew then he wouldn't leave - and you needed water. Washing, cleaning, sanitation, drinking. A lot of water was necessary, especially if you were going to be here for a while.

He shut the door behind him and you waited a few minutes before you got up and shoved a broom through the door handle, effectively locking it from the inside. If you needed to escape out the back door, it would buy you a moment of time.

He knows where I am. He knows I'm with the Mandalorian... He knows that I am alone.

You had to do something to keep your mind busy and off of the thought of being taken back to evil himself. It wasn't easy, and you desperately wished that he left the baby. He was right though. You needed to rest and sleep as much as you possibly could.

You also wished that you brought something to do to distract you from the excruciating pain that was now tearing itself through your lower body. As quickly as you could, you ran to the section of the abandoned homestead that had once been used to repair the moisture tanks, both now stripped bare of essentials. A passing knowledge of some of how some of this stuff works comes in handy every now and then. You had a timer fastened together in no time, set to beep once a minute. It would keep you alert, at least.

As you made your way back to the main part of the house, the pain subsided. You allowed yourself to eat part of the food that Mando had brought in, hoping that would quell the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

The baby turned and shifted as the night went on, even as you bedded down to for the evening.

Sleep didn't come easy that night for you and as you lay awake in the darkness of Arvala-7. All you could do was hope that you wouldn't be alone when the baby came.

***

Mando wasn't back the next morning. He wasn't there to help you out of bed, or to call you me'suum. The Crest was still there though, which brought a little comfort to you that he hadn't simply abandoned you on this desert planet to die of thirst.

He didn't come back by lunchtime.

Or dinner.

Or long after the lights came on.

You found a small leather skin under the bed that had about a day's worth of water in it. It was warm and had a bit of a sandy grit to it, but you drank deeply from it all the same.

That night, in the early hours of the morning, your waters broke.

And you were utterly alone.

***

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!):

@miscellaneous-mando @lestrange2703 @someplace-darker @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @poeticparker @blackbird337 @the-last-twin-of-krypton @divineangelix @c1996 @mell-bell @qhbr2013 @bookszazzy @marvelbros-oneshots @cuteboyking @boomtownboy @connor-challoner @fandom-lover-4 @itsmysticalmystery @love-struck-aries

#my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #no use of y/n #look around fic

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blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

Seasick Pt.7→Peter Parker friends to lovers AU

Parings: College!Peter Parker x reader friends to lovers

Summary: when you give one lie to your mom that you have a boyfriend, she ends up buying an extra ticket for a cruise you guys are going on. Now you’re stuck looking for a fake boyfriend and eventually drag peter in. Except you and peter both like each other and don’t know how long you can last pretending.

Warnings: angst, fluff

A/n: so this is a repost because tumblr glitched and it didn’t post the full thing? It only posted the title that’s it and I don’t know why it did that but hopefully this works this time😤

Masterlist

The makeup brush meets your cheek as you stand in the bathroom getting ready. Peter finds one of the nicer outfits May packed for him. He wears black shorts and a red Hawaiian top. Maybe matching will make them see how cute and happy you are.

“Do you ever feel bad about doing this?” He stands in front of the full body mirror struggling with a button. His fingers shake at how nervous he is.

“Bad about what?” You ask, eyes wide as you bring the mascara to your lashes.

“Lying? Pretending I'm your boyfriend, lying to your mom and dad and sisters?” his words not meant to be so strong but he felt he should know. Being dragged into all of this, kissing you, touching you, hell making himself more uncomfortable than you.

“No, do you feel bad?” Your voice soft as you ask him, he lets out a huff. Boy does he feel bad.

“I mean, a little. I've never met these people before in my life and I'm just lying to them about everything.” he runs a hand through his curls. They’re soft from a shower earlier and smoothed out with gel.

“Honestly Peter, they don't even pay attention to half of the things we say. You could tell them you've committed murder and they would gloss over it.” you tell him and he raises his brows. It doesn’t make sense. If they didn’t care so much why would you care enough to bring him on a whole trip?

“But like it's your mom. Why do you even need a boyfriend? Why lie?” He feels if his mom was still alive he would love her so much. Cherish every moment with her and make sure to visit her all the time like he does May. May is his only mother figure, she’s his only mother figure and he loves her like that too.

You pump the lip gloss a few times before swiping it over your lips. Pressing it together to get a soft pink that makes your lips look softer. You stare at your reflection and know he’s right. You know he’s right but you hate it.

“Can we not go into all of this right before we see them?” You come out of the bathroom, placing a gold stud into your ear. The dress manages to look better now than it did earlier. Maybe it was the sun setting into your skin, maybe it was the gold highlight at the tip of your nose that made you glow even more. The dress that brought out your features, maybe it was how he always wore the red suit back home, how the color red drives him crazy on you.

“Wow Peter, two in one day. Im proud of myself.” you look down at his pants and he quickly looks down to then realizes you're just teasing.

“Stop.” he groans standing up. “Are you ready?” he asks and you nod. You have a necklace in your hand and look at him.

“Yeah, i just had trouble with this necklace, could you help?” you ask, handing it to him. It fumbles in his hands as he comes behind you and takes it around your neck clasping it. He brushes some fallen hair hair to the side as he latches it in place. Coconut and peaches and the mixture of the lavender vanilla perfume was perfect.

“Peter?” your voice weak in a whisper as you feel his breath on your neck, how his hands are rough and calloused but so large and warm. Your lower half is pressed up against his by accident. You feel how strong he is and how maybe with one simple phone call you two would be out of dinner but rather in bed with each other.

He blinks a few times before backing away. Realizing he was standing too close for too long.

“It's good.” he swallows, gaining his composure. You turn around and reach behind him to grab your bag.

“We good?” You nearly spoke in a broken sentence and he nods before you pass him and grab the door.

“Y-Yeah.” he nods following you behind. He wouldn't let his feelings get the best of him now, not after all he's done here.

The light was dim.

You and Peter sat towards the end of the table. Island music plays throughout the restaurant but is drowned out but the sound of talking.

You are uncomfortable already. Drinking a margarita that was served to both you and Peter. Yet Peter didnt touch his, he didn't really enjoy drinking, he couldn't really get a good buzz unless he had a lot.

“Hey,” his hand places over the drink, “Slow down.” he warned you and you stopped drinking to look at him.

“Sorry mom.” you set down the glass and rest your head on his shoulder. His hand on your thigh and even if no one could see it, he knew you needed some sort of reassurance.

“So peter.” your oldest sister, Arden, folds her fingers and leans over to him. Her husband talking to your dad so nothing could distract her. “Stark tower? What a tragedy that happened to him.” she doesn't care, and you know it. You knew peter was close to tony so you wanted to shut it down quick.

“Arden, don’t.” you give sharp eyes and she bats her lashes a few times at you. Acting completely clueless to what she was about to do.

“What? Im pretty sure i was talking to peter not you.'' That was the first time she got his name right. Peter was shocked.

His hand squeezes your thigh to let you know its okay. You pick your drink back up and take a sip before picking away at the food in front of you.

“It was a tragedy, but um, luckily the tower is ran by his wife, Mrs.potts.” he tells her and she hums.

“Do you plan on staying there forever?” she asks and just before peter can speak you take your head off him and lean in.

“Peter makes very good money working for the towers, he's very smart and is promised a job after graduation. Since i know that's what you're asking.” You say in a little of a slur. You're tipsy. Oh my god. Peter thought. you were tipsy.

“I never thought about that until you put it in my head. Peter what do your parents do?” she looks back at him as if you never even spoke. You pick up your glass again, almost empty and he knows you're moving onto his next.

He's now stuck. Back home dealing with physics and maths while also taking the role of Spider-Man was cake. Answering questions from your sister that made him uncomfortable and dealing with a now somewhat drunk you, that was his biggest mission yet.

He's seen you drunk before, but you were happier. You laughed with MJ and ran down the streets of queens. Once ned had to prevent you from throwing your top off a balcony. This was different, you're slouching in your chair, touching him, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it.

“My mom and dad passed away when I was young so I've been living with my aunt—“ he starts. You set the now empty glass down. Warm feelings going through your blood, you are angry. It doesn’t take his advanced senses to tell him that.

“Why do you care?” you interrupt him. His hand moves from your thigh to your shoulder, gripping it tight.

“(y/n) i think you've had enough to drink—“ he states and you look at peter with sharp eyes.

“No peter.” you nearly spit at him and look back at her. His eyes go wide at how aggressive and assertive you were.

“(y/n) just listen to Parker and sit down and eat your pasta, not everything is about you. Sometimes people can have conversations and it doesn’t revolve around you.” Her words blunt and shocks peter. When sisters fought he thought it would just be about clothes, maybe stolen makeup and hair ties. Never anything like this.

“That's actually my last—” he starts to himself but you speak out not even hearing him.

“No, why do you do this? Every single year you treat me like this? You hate me for no reason and I'm your sister. You didn't even want me at your wedding two years ago, you barely even wanted Maya and she's not any better than you or me.” you pause to look at the girl who falls back into her chair with a glass of white wine knowing she's made you snap. Peter's hands are now both on you trying to get you to take a seat.

“You call me names, make fun of my looks, make fun of the fact that i never had a boyfriend and now that i've found someone and i'm happy you hate him for doing that. So what is it that you want? Are you mad that I wasn't exactly like you? Are you scared that I might be better than you? That i might be happy without being perfect? That I don't need money and a rich man to make me smile? What do you want? I'm nineteen you're twenty seven. Grow the fuck up.” you grab peters drink and take a sip, leaning back. Peter has his hand on the glass too trying to take it away.

“Girls, please.” Your mom has her hand on her face, embarrassed of the little fight. All eyes are on you two, Peter tries his hardest not to go bright red while you try your hardest not to let tears spill.

You pick up your fork, eating a small bite before you look at your sister who rolls her eyes and mumbles something under her glass. You didn’t know why it was your breaking point but it was.

“You know what?” tears threaten to spill, they burn at the corner of your eyes making your vision blurry and your skin hot. “I'm done, you win. Im done.” you get up from your spot leaving the dining area.

Peter sits there awkwardly, shocked not knowing if you need anyone to chase you or what. He gets up anyways, saying a mumbling a few sorries before going after you.

“(y/n)! (y/n)!” he calls after you. People walk past carelessly enjoying their own blissful vacation. You walk quickly with a bit of a lean. You weren't a lightweight, you just were furious.

“(y/n), wait, please.” he stops in front of you, you’re on the beach, close to the main ship. If he can just take you to the room, get you in bed with no struggle, this will be nothing by tomorrow.

“What peter?” you stop, you wipe a tear and look him in the eyes. They’re bright red and puffy, he wishes he would’ve know so much sooner. How a girl like you, the perfect girl in the world could be so broken.

“Look i know you don't like them—” he wants to help he just doesn’t know what’s too far and what’s not. You laugh not wanting to hear it.

“Peter you don't understand. You don't. You never will understand. You think this is all a paradise and thats exactly what they want you to think! It's a cover up peter, this is all just a coverup to be perfect. They Are obsessed with perfection. I'm not perfect to them peter. I'm not. And I thought bringing you here would prove to them that I am. I can have the hot smart boyfriend and handle college at Columbia and look all pretty but I can't. Peter i—“ his arms wrap around you. You sob into his chest as he strokes the top of your head and rubs your back. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. As real Peter, not fake peter.

He holds you there for a moment. Letting all the years you’ve hidden this collapse. He doesn’t care about the stained makeup that will appear later, he doesn’t care about anything right now except you.

“Lets go to the room okay?” you nod into his chest, pulling back a bit but he lets you lean into his shoulder, he allows you to rest while he walks you two back to the ship and to the hotel room.

When he walks in, you're practically asleep on his shoulder. Drunken state and crying was probably not the best mix.

“I'm gonna take off your dress now, okay?” he asks respectfully. More nervous than you.

“I've always liked the color red on you.” you mumbled letting him slide down your straps and letting you slip from the dress. You try and play with his shirt while He shuts his eyes trying not to look at your exposed body.

“Relax peter. I'm wearing a bra and underwear.” you stumble a little and Peter catches you.

“You need to get some sleep.” he holds you and you fall into the bed. Crawling to your side and pulling the sheets over your body. Not changing into anything, just laying there in the lace bralette and panties. Peter looks at you already falling asleep, full face of makeup still paints your face. Even if most of it ran down from your tears he still took a rag and some face wash to your face.

“Thank you.” you whine. Touching his wrist as he wipes your face. “Thank you for everything.” you sniffle.

“Of course.” he takes out the earrings and takes off the necklace too. “C-can you wear a shirt?” his voice chips a little and you stifle a laugh.

He grabs you one from the dresser and you allow him to slide it on. It's one of his shirts, you don't know why he's given you his old star wars shirt but you love it. Maybe it had a few pizza sauce stains but it smelled like him.

He walks off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and by the time he's back you're passed out, snoring into the pillow and your hair is already a mess against the pillow.

He smiles softly before hearing the sound of your phone going off in your purse. He knows he shouldn't look but the least he thinks he can do is plug it in.

MJ: so did you tell him?

Betty: He totally likes you back and its not just the fake dating, you should see him when you miss study sessions.

MJ: Why are you afraid of peter? He weighs like 10lbs i could easily knock him over

Betty: ugh you guys better be real when you come back

He shuts it off quickly feeling like he's invaded something. He saw the texts a few days ago but he just thought it was harmless. He was completely clueless.

He plugs the phone in before laying in the bed. Pulling the sheets up to his chest and staring at the ceiling a bit before he feels your arm wrap around his torso. He looks down at you and thinks with all the moments he's seen so far, with all the things you've been through, You need the most comfort now.

He wraps his arm around you and pulls you into his chest. He lays staring for a little while longer before he falls asleep with you on his chest. Arms around your protectively as you both snored into the night.

“Goodnight peter parker.” you mumble into his chest.

“Goodnight (Y/n).”

Next morning peter woke up with you tangled in bed with him. Your cheek presses against his bicep and he really didn’t mind, after the night you had you deserved to sleep. It was late though, a lot later than he expected. 11am and normally he was up. But he didn’t want to move to disturb you.

A knock on the door makes him groan. His body was sore from swimming yesterday and he was starving as he realized he barely ate. He rubs his eyes as he trips over the sheets as the knock gets louder and louder.

You still being dead asleep, he gets up and opens it being faced with your sister.

“Is (y/n) awake?” It’s Maya, not Arden the one who fought and should be here but it’s the younger one.

“Uhh, no, she’s still asleep.” He mumbled trying to gain good vision. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and holds onto the door handle tight.

You’re starting to wake up though, you can hear them talking but your head is pounding and your eyes are puffy. You can’t makeout who’s talking but the sheets are missing peter and you can hear the low morning voice he has.

“Well when she wakes up can you tell her Arden says sorry?” She huffs almost as annoyed as peter that she’s standing in front him.

“Well...shouldn’t Arden come say sorry if she’s sorry?” It was the first time he said something that was in use to defend you. Something he should’ve been doing the whole time.

“She’s busy.” Maya tells him and tries to peak around to get a look at you.

“Well if she was sorry she can make time to apologize to her own sister.” He isn’t as scared of her as he was two days ago.

“Look, kid, I know you want to help but none of this is your place—“ she starts and his grip on the door tightens.

“I think it became my place last night after my girlfriend's sister made her cry.” He tells her with a sharper tone. The girl stands in front of him with a defeated look. She doesn’t say anything before she picks up her phone and starts typing.

“Just, tell (y/n) mom wants to see her for lunch. Just her.” She tries and Peter looks away at you.

“No, sorry we're busy today.” He shuts the door on her before rubbing his face. He scared himself there for a moment but he knew you couldn’t handle another day with them. If he could do one thing for you that would be stand up for you.

“Who’s that?” You asked and he shook his head.

“Oh, just some kid who had the wrong room. ‘Tis all.” He told you and you nodded. You grabbed your phone from your nightstand not remembering if you plugged it in or not. Messages flooded from Betty and MJ scare you that peter might’ve seen.

“Hey did you plug in my phone last night?” Your voice soft as you ask.

“Uh yeah, it was at like seven percent.” He told you before he went into the bathroom and quickly shut the door to take a shower.

You sit up feeling the pounding in your head before walking over to the bathroom door. If you just get in and get the Advil without even looking at him things will be fine.

“Peter,” you knock twice. “Peter I’m coming in.” You open the door hands over your eyes as you move your hand around for the medicine cabinet.

“What are you doing!” He almost shouts and you keep looking.

“My head hurts!” You tell him and he groans.

“So wait until I’m done?” He asks and you shake your head grabbing the bottle.

“No!” You take the bottle and fall out the door. Sitting on the bed you take two before he comes out in fresh clothes and wet hair.

“You could’ve waited…” he mumbles as he puts his dirty clothes back in his suitcase.

“Well, my head was pounding.” You drink all the water from the bottle on your table. He watches you flop back down before you touch your legs. “Where’s my pants?” You ask and he decides with all the things happening, he can at least play a game with you.

“Oh you know, we were both a little drunk and then things escalated pretty quick and you get a little loud. I'm surprised we have—“ he starts and you give him a dead look.

“Peter.” You give him a stare and he huffs.

“You didn’t wanna wear pants.” He told you and you nodded.

“Cute story though.” you wink at him as you walk over to the dresser to find pants.

“Do you remember yesterday?” he asks in more of a shy voice, he doesn't want to get you mad this early in the morning.

“Peter, I was tipsy not blackout drunk.” you chuckle but bite your lower lip.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he comes up behind you and you turn around with a pair of shorts in hand.

“No, not really right now.” you tell him honestly.

He mentally slaps himself for even asking. He knows this is hard but in a way he feels he should know. He should be allowed to help you. Maybe after this trip if you guys were still friends things would go back to normal. Although he hated the idea of normal, friends or not. He wanted to be there for you and maybe you’ll never let him take care of you in the way he wants but he still wants to be there.

You grab your swimsuit that hangs on the clothing rack and take it to the bathroom.

“W-well are we doing anything today?” he asks, defeated.

“Yeah, we can go down to the beach. If you want to come of course.” you say before locking the door.

He was going to the beach.

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