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maybe-your-left · 3 years

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ASK FRIDAY - CREATE A SCENARIO: roommates trope with Kylo

Due to some last minute room swapping and late registering Reader and Kylo end up in the same dorm but they're mad about it and hate each other (cue intense sexual tension)

Dorm room, Snowed in, evening time like 6

The heater/power has just gone out and Kylo knows a few ways to get warm...only if Readers up for it...

been working on this for FOREVER ANON.

I loved it!

Crushed

TW: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes, exhibitionism, kinda fluff, Kylos not that nice and is an entitled man.

Oh yeah, you fuckin’ slut.

Yes-Yes-Yes!

‘M gonna cum all over your fucking tits.

You slapped the wall next to your bed, hard.

“Can you guys keep it down! It’s 1 in the morning!”

Muffled voices came through the paper-thin wall, sounding like bodies moving to the floor. Good, you thought, at least he will get rug burn from the shitty carpet, might keep him from fucking everything that moves.

A hard knock on the wall pulled you from that thought.

“Go read your fucking Bible! I’m trying to get my dick wet!”

“Please!”

“Why don’t you go get fucked!?”

Some giggled came through next, followed by more muffled whispering. You whined loudly, trying to ignore the sounds of him fucking whatever bimbo your dormmate had in his lair. Shoving your face into your pillow, muffling your tears and wails.

You turned on your TV, drowning out the final act of his performance. Fingers poised over your keyboard to file another noise complaint with the RA… not like they ever helped you. The last time they intervened they left with a black eye and broken nose, shrugging for you to sort it out yourselves.

A door slammed shut, you let out a sigh of relief.

At least he wasn’t a cuddler.

You climbed out of bed, tip-toeing to your door to take a peek of whatever slut found her way into his room this evening. The special lady was a new cinderella every fucking week, he didn’t even try to know their names. You heard him admit it once in class to his friends, saying he called them all ‘baby’ so he wouldn’t have to learn.

You peeked out the door, blinking from the harsh fluorescent lighting of your dingy dorm halls. The walls were a screaming white, yellowing from years of shoddy cleaning. You tried to clean your room when you first came to school, but it was too disgusting.

A non-smoking dorm, ha. Everyone smoked, especially your neighbor.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed creeper?”

You jumped at his voice, exhaling harshly through your nose. You steeled your features, caught red-handed looking for his latest prey. Crossing your arms defensively, not that there was anything to hide. You were in your ratty pj’s, they were on sale at Old Navy a few years ago and you never threw them away even though they barely fit anymore.

“If you’re so interested in being a cuck,” he grinned at you, flashing his crooked teeth, “I would love to have you over for an encore, I’m sure you’d love to watch me in action.”

“Buzz off, Ren.”

“Ooo, angry tonight,” he smirked, now stepping out of his door frame. You choked a little at his appearance, no shirt on, basketball shorts barely hanging off his hips. Dangerously low, seriously, if he took one wrong move they would be on the floor. His chest was covered in fresh scratch marks, no doubt from his latest victim, a sheen of sweat glistening under the lights.

Fuck, he was good-looking.

But he was terrible.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, daring you to stare back at him.

You gulped, caught again. You were better than that, you were just tired from being kept up since ten with his version of ‘love-making’.

“My eyes are up here cupcake,” he stepped forward. Pushing you back into your doorframe, almost inside your sanctuary. “If you ever decide you want to break your vow of chastity, I’m right next door.”

“Step away from me, Kylo.”

He cocked his brow, “I love when you’re mean, come on. Let’s see if kitty has claws.”

You bared your teeth, fists balling under your underarms, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth.”

He shrugged, backing away from you.

“Deal, bitch.”

You moved to shut your door on him, “Go away.”

“See you in class, bright and early.”

------

When you imagined leaving for college, it was different.

Saying goodbye to your parents, packing your car with whatever small valuables you owned. Determined to make a name for yourself all the way across the country, no friends or family, truly on your own. You imagined everything would be different, the dorm would be filled with new and friendly faces.

RA’s greeting you as you parked outside, giving you a tour and maybe a group lunch with all your floormates. Getting to know each other, maybe even going to some new-student orientation event they planned for the newbies.

Classes were smooth, acing all your major requirements. Professors were kind and ready to help you at any moment, letting your artistic vision flow through your body every morning with your 8 AM yoga class.

But no.

Instead, you registered late.

Your classes all at the worst times, bright and early.

Second rate dorm, COED even… smelly dudes between your single bedroom which would be better defined as a broom closet. Burping and fucking on both sides of you while you tried to study. Your major requirement classes were boring and filled with pretentious art students who thought they were the next Picasso.

Professors didn’t care if you lived or died, only focusing on the bell schedule because they couldn’t control what the freshmen did in their classes.

Your options for clubs were limited, either join a sport or a cult.

And worst of all.

Kylo Ren.

He was your neighbor, signed up late just like you. You actually arrived at the same time, he pushed you down on your ass in the lobby so he could be checked in first. Calling you a clumsy bitch, only for you both to be handed keys to the same floor. Right next to each other, sharing a flimsy wall.

On top of that, he was an art major like you.

And since he registered late, he was in almost every class.

Even yoga!

He took your mat the first day, leaving you in tears in the hallway. He apologized afterward, handing it back to you before storming off to be with his beefy upper-class friends. Any moment he could, Ren would humiliate you. Trying to push your buttons, whistling at you when you had to cross the hallway to the showers. Tripping you when you had your hands full, making fun of you for hanging out with your sparse group of friends.

And when he found out you were annoyed with him making noise, he latched onto it.

One week he decided to recite the entire Phantom of the Opera, just because you mentioned in class that you loved that play.

He did every part, even the musical scores, you could’ve sworn he did it with a megaphone on the wall, just to spite you.

Your parents told you ‘he just likes you, he’s a boy.’

No!

That’s not how people express feelings, at least not healthy people.

Your alarm clock blared on your nightstand, you didn’t sleep so it didn’t bother you. Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Ren ruined another night for you, a night you’d never get back. Of precious, precious sleep that you desperately deserved.

Slipping on some plum leggings and a sports bra. No one gave a fuck about your outfit in your early morning class, as long as you went with clothes on. You popped on your headphones, trying to drone out the noise of Ren’s music through the wall. He liked to blast some god-awful music every morning.

Today, it was an old Black Veil Brides album!

You made it out of the dining hall, snatching a muffin for breakfast. Smiling at some guys you knew, waving at your friend Rose as you stormed off to the gym. The cold chill of Winter biting at your nose, it was too cold to not wear a full outfit. But there was no time, with Ren keeping you up all night and classes back to back, you didn’t have time to fuck around with dressing up.

Ren ran in after you, laughing with his friends. Big nose all red from the frost, his hair looked frozen to his scalp, probably showered beforehand. You rolled out your mat, trying to stretch while he bragged about the pussy he got last night. Making a big show of your complaining, saying you were desperate to fuck him based on your whining.

You rolled your eyes when he planted next to you, “Good morning, you ran out in a hurry.”

“I didn’t want to be late,” you sneered, not giving him the time of day, still stretching your back into child's-pose.

“How are we supposed to walk together if you run away from me, cupcake?”

You scoffed, shooting him an icy glare. Despite him grinning at you like the happiest man on Earth, god, you needed to stop giving him a reaction. That would shut him up if you didn’t give him the attention he is clearly lacking from his parental figures.

“Good morning class,” your teacher greeted you calmly, “I hope you’re all doing well. As you all know, this next week is finals week, I’m offering makeup classes to those of you who need to make up some credit hours. We are also hosting some meditation if you need time to relax between classes.”

Next to you, Ren leaned towards your mat, setting his hand right behind your back. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was hovering. Ready to devour you like a piece of meat.

“Hey,” he chuckled.

You stayed quiet, pushing back into his arm so he would move. Ren stayed put, purring in your ear, “Did you sleep well?”

“Move off my mat, Ren.”

He smirked down at you, “You seem stressed, do you want me to help by fucking your brains out.”

You shot off your mat, effectively knocking him onto his back. Laughing loudly in a relatively silent room of students trying to center themselves. He grinned from the floor, hands up in the air in defense, “I’m just offering to help you, Jesus!”

“Just,” you pointed in his face, hair falling out of your ponytail. Everyone was staring at you, even your instructor. Shocked you were yelling, you barely spoke in class, at the scariest person in your class.

“Just, leave me alone.”

------

Ren avoided you for the rest of the week, mostly.

Still had his nightly fuck-more subdued though, you had on noise-canceling headphones to try and focus on studying. There were still so many classes to get to, and you wouldn’t be finished until the day before Winter break… you were desperate to get this over with.

You missed your family, the plane ticket itself cost you a whole month of meals.

Of course, you would do fine in your classes, it was just the motivation to get there. Every morning you glared at Ren when he greeted you in yoga, still standing next to you like a menacing shadow.

This morning was no different, only you skipped class to study in the library. Bundled up in your winter coat, long black scarf, hair in a lazy braid, and thermal leggings on. The wind had picked up last night, bringing on an ice storm that wasn’t expected until late next week. You walked on treacherous sidewalks, dodging all the other students who were seeking the warmth of the library.

You settled inside, sprawling your books and laptop on an old desk. Grabbing out a few sketch pads so you could finish up some pieces that were due in a couple hours. Most of your finals in art were ‘unconventional’ which meant the professor wanted to see what you were motivated to work on during the year.

For yours, you had decided to draw the people you saw on campus.

Studying their faces, mannerisms, languages while they were in an organic environment. It was a great piece, and one of your professors was very interested in showcasing it in a show. You were proud, it wasn’t large but it was important for you and you wanted it to be perfect before turning it in.

Your pastels were spread out, fingertips smudged and stained from charcoal, a few lines on your face and brow from forgetting about the streaks. There was this one person you couldn’t finish, it was one of your friends from last week. She was laughing and holding a drink, the expression wide and full of emotion but it was hard for you to capture without her being there.

But you steeled yourself, you weren’t leaving this spot until you finished her.

“You smudged that dude's face,” a low voice rumbled behind you. A finger pointing down at the top left corner, “Stop-don’t touch it.”

You moved to swat the hand away, not wanting some random guy to ruin your piece with their grubby fingers. Recentering yourself, he wasn’t smudged, he was just in the corner so it looked like it wasn’t finished… what did he know, anyway?

“You didn’t draw me?”

Now you stopped, why you didn’t recognize the timbre of his voice was ridiculous.

You let out a long sigh, “Please, don’t touch the canvas, Kylo. It’s not ready, yet.”

The chair that housed your backpack slid out next to you, your things tossed on the ground carelessly before Ren sat. You scooted away from him, he smelled like he just showered. Judging by his wet hair you were probably right… “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, fiddling with one of your notebooks. Flipping through pages carelessly, “I don’t know-you weren’t in yoga so.”

“So,” you gave him a weird look, “You stalked me to the library?”

“There’s no reason to go to yoga if I can’t bother you,” he flashed a smile, dropping it slightly when he saw you weren’t playing back with him.

Silence fell over you both, the only noises the heat kicking in around the scuffling of boots and shoes to face the weather again.

“I like your piece,” he gestured to your work, “For drawing, right?”

You nodded stiffly, not enjoying his friendly tone. Like he wasn’t your demon neighbor who made it his job to annoy you and had for the past four months of your life. Ren shifted again, now leaning on the table with his cheek resting on his forearm. Looking at you with wide eyes, you never took the time to look at his face.

He had very large eyes that betrayed his emotions. Swimming with flecks of auburn, gold, and some streaks of green, blinking slowly as he studied your canvas. You looked away from him, trying to ignore the urge to draw them, how his long lashes rivaled your own. How his skin was freckled with beauty marks, creases from frowning lined his forehead and nose. You could even make out his stubble, some pieces he must’ve missed the last time he shaved.

You went back to drawing, no longer focusing on it. Just trying to understand what was happening, your tormentor was a foot away from you. Breathing calmly like a cat laying in a patch of sun. Hunched over the edge, torso too long to rest like a normally proportioned human being, had he always been this big?

“Wanna get coffee before class?”

“Huh?”

You blinked slowly, not registering that he spoke to you.

Ren leaned off, letting out a big yawn and scratching the back of his neck.

Yes, definitely a cat.

“Do you want to get coffee,” he stared blankly, “Before we head to English?”

You looked down at your mess, then back up at him. Shaking your head softly, voice quiet as a mouse, “No-thank you.”

He exhaled harshly, “I’m not gonna burn you with it, it’s just coffee.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said firmer, “I wanna work on this some more.”

Ren stayed still, probably trying to think of a way to get you to agree with him. You had known him long enough to know he doesn’t like people disagreeing with him. Didn’t have to be a college graduate to see that the man had issues with control, hence terrorizing you all semester. You didn’t want to offer him an olive branch, because he was just doing it as a joke. Probably, waiting until you were calm around him to do something cruel.

You went back to drawing, listening to him get up and leave you. Mumbling something under his breath about ‘trying to be nice’ before walking out. You shook off the awkwardness, not willing to break down and let him do something nice for you, just because he didn’t ruin your final piece didn’t mean he wouldn’t do something in the future.

The day was still young.

------

Oddly enough, Ren didn’t bother you that evening.

Not even a door slam!

You almost thought he was dead, but you saw him in the hallway when you were walking to the bathroom. Wrapped in your robe, caddy in hand, he didn’t whistle or try to touch your ass like he normally did. Just a stale smile before closing himself back in his room.

Not to waste the precious quiet, you went to work packing your bags for your trip tomorrow. Deciding to do a quick load of laundry, your hall was almost empty, so no one would be down there while you waited.

Piling up your hamper, you threw your pj's and slippers on. Remembering to grab a blanket and your laptop so you could hang out down there while you waited.

Your friends back home were all excited to see you, ready to hear all about your time away. The boys you met, friends you made, classes, all that. So excited to get home and see your cat, Gremlin, he was all alone without you. Your mom sent you pictures earlier of him curled in your blankets, saying that he knew you were coming home soon.

Maybe next Fall you could get an apartment, you didn’t want to leave him for another year.

A washing machine door slammed shut next to you, causing you to jump from your perch atop your own. Faced with Ren, who was doing his laundry in his pjs, or his version of pjs. Giving you another tight-lipped smile before leaning against the far wall. Yawning loudly before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

You ignored him, turning back to your laptop that was playing a crime documentary. Texting some friends to keep your mind from wandering to Ren and why he was in such a mood.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Ren called from his wall.

You pretended to not hear him, refocusing on the documentary, there was something very interesting happening and you weren’t about to miss how they found the killer's shoe prints in the mud just because Ren was trying to talk to you.

Then something was thrown at you, and it smelled awful.

“Oh-my-god!”

You shot off the washing machine, throwing down the offending garment. Ren was laughing loudly, “Chill out! It was just an old shirt!”

“How old was it?!”

He smiled at you from the ground, propping an elbow on his kneecap. One leg stretched out on the tile, you tried to regain a sense of calm, he was just messing with you again. Just take some deep breaths… in-out-in

“Are you leaving tomorrow, after our final?”

You let out your deep breath, sitting back on the washer. “Yeah,” you paused your show since mister meanie wanted to have a tea party. “I have to get to the airport right after.”

He hummed, “Same.”

The washer beeped loudly, echoing in the otherwise empty room. Ren watched you hop off, fixing your shorts which definitely rode up too much. Trying to not flash him your underwear as you bent to move your clothes to a dryer. You cursed when a sock fell from your pile, great.

“How come we’ve never fucked?”

Now all your clothes were on the floor.

Along with Ren, who was staring at you like you were an art exhibit.

You dragged your clothes back to the washer. There was no way you were finishing now that they touched the dirty floor, no one cleaned down here and just because it looked clean didn’t mean-

A whistle, “You good over there?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” you heard him stretch, popping his joints as he lifted off the floor. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he closed in. Almost touching you, no escape, “As I was saying, how come you’ve never let me steal your virginity?”

You scoffed, “I am not a virgin.”

Ren pressed into you, pushing you against the washer now. Grinding his hips into your own, you squirmed, trying to dispel every fantasy flooding your brain. Every night you spent listening to him through the wall, imagining just once that it was you. If he weren’t such a monster, you would have gladly laid on your back and let him do whatever he wanted.

“Nothing?”

You took a deep breath, placing both palms on the top of the washer. Biting your lip as you silently pleaded for him to let you go, but also continue. You could smell his cologne from this close, how it complimented him so well. Mixing in with his dark aura, you wanted nothing more than to spin around and…

Soon you were doing just that, but not on your own violation.

Ren had his hands grasping your hips, thumbs slipping under the fabric of your t-shirt to caress your soft skin. Lips capturing your own, you froze in his hold. Unsure of what to do, a part of you wanted to scream and smack him, but the other part loved the smell of his toothpaste.

He relaxed when you relaxed, your lips still awkwardly locked together. Not opening and allowing for more, but not moving away either. You stared at him, startled to see him looking back at you. Pulling back slightly, you watched his face chase yours. Bringing your lips together a few more times, kissing at the seam.

You felt his tongue flick for entry, trying to pry your mouth open so he could explore. When you didn’t move he finally huffed in annoyance, “I know it’s your first kiss, but you’re supposed to open your mouth.”

You groaned, bringing both hands to cradle his cheeks. There was no way he was going to make fun of you, he initiated this so.

Ren made a muffled noise when you pressed your lips back together. Probably of shock and surprise, because, no. This was not your first kiss, not even your fourth or fifth kiss. Working your tongue skillfully into his mouth, you moaned softly at his taste. Just like you imagined… not that you put much stock into this but… it was wonderful.

Bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, tugging on his dark brown hair. Just like you always wanted to, whenever he walked past you with it tied in a bun you dreamt of tearing through it. Ren returned your affection in kind, his left hand moving to the small of your back. Fingers dancing under the waistband of your pajama bottoms.

You heard him swear when he felt the lace underneath, nestled between your cheeks. Ren slid a hand over the globes of your ass, moving his hips in time with his tongue. Tasting every inch of your mouth, even growling in approval when you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip.

Petting and groping each other against the washing machines, the sound of you swapping spit barely heard over the rumble of your clothes. Ren had gotten sick of grinding against your hip bone, pulling away from you for a moment. Shushing your pathetic whimpers, he hooked the hand not cupping your ass behind your left knee.

Hiking it over his hip, opening your legs up. Allowing him to assault your center with his straining erection, oh you could picture it now. How easy it would be to just let him slip inside you.

Right here, in the laundry room.

*Beep*

You pulled back roughly, barely able to unsuction your lips from Rens' own. A string of spit connecting your kiss-bitten lips, he looked at you with pleading eyes. Grinding himself against you harder, pulling a few soft mewls from your throat.

“I need to switch my clothes,” you croaked.

He nodded, shakily setting your limb back on the floor and backing away. You watched through your own lust-filled state as he trembled. Walking back to his far wall, a hand cupping his cock through his sweats. Your throat clicked as you took in a much-needed breath, doing what you said you would.

Setting them in the dryer, all the more aware of his eyes watching your every move.

Not sparing him a glance when you sat back on the washer.

Turning on your laptop once again to watch your crime documentary.

Ignoring the throbbing between your legs, his deep breaths, and your shaking limbs.

------

The TV’s at the airport all said the same thing, “Record snowfall this winter, right before the holidays! Experts say that we will be lucky to keep power until it passes. Our friends on the west coast are enjoying a white Christmas, while we’re stuck in the North Pole.”

All flights have been grounded until further notice.

Stuck.

You could barely make it back to your dorm without crashing.

Bursting into tears several times when you realized you wouldn’t be home until it was over. Wouldn't be able to safely leave your dorm room until it passed, leaving you utterly alone.

You had emailed your RA letting him know your bad luck, he let the staff know you’d be there so they would have food and water running still.

But other than that, this was your holiday.

You slipped on the walk up to your room, sobbing loudly in the halls as you clutched your luggage. No going home, no seeing your friends or family, no Christmas dinner, no personal shower, no Gremlin to sleep on your face.

Collapsing on your bed, curling yourself in the multitude of pillows and blankets that adorned it. The room had shitty heating, the entire building had shitty heating. The entire month of December you’d been freezing, and no amount of personal heaters could fix this kind of cold.

You drifted off to sleep after crying for a few hours, letting your parents know what was happening. Setting alerts for earlier flights, anything you could do to get home. You were so tired in fact, that you slept through a power outage. Leaving the entire building to shut down, no backup generators.

And no heat.

It wasn’t until you felt yourself being lifted that you woke up to the commotion.

Squirming in the kidnappers' arms, limbs aching from freezing for a time in your bedroom. The window must’ve cracked open because it was much colder than when you arrived. Your attacker didn’t let you go, growling in your ear to be still.

Dragging you out of the building, towards a car you didn’t notice when you pulled in. With the snow swirling all around, it was a miracle they could see their own vehicle. You were thrown in the front seat, followed by your luggage tossed in the back. You stayed still, every time you moved it hurt, hypothermia. Common in the New England storms if you were foolish enough to be outside…

You about passed out when the driver's side door opened, Ren climbed in. Looking just as frozen as you, slamming the door shut and mumbling something as he started his car. You could’ve cried when the engine turned, heat blasting between the both of you.

“Hands,” his teeth chattered, holding his own out. He nodded for you to do the same, grasping your pink fingers between his own and blowing on them. “Power went out,” Ren took a shallow breath, “I was leaving and I saw your car. You were almost frozen to your bed, the window broke.”

“Th-thank you-u-u.”

Ren cringed at your fingers, slowly gaining back their normal color. “I tried to grab everything I could, like your backpack and luggage. But we can’t stay there, we’ll fucking freeze.”

You nodded, tugging your hands away to curl into your chest. Thankful that Ren had enough sense to grab blankets, stuffing them in your lap from the backseat. You thought about grabbing your phone, but you could barely make a fist so it would do you no good.

“My plane g-g-got ground-d-ed.”

Ren shivered, nodding sharply, “Mine too, my mom got me a hotel room not far from here to stay until the storm passes. So, I’m taking us there.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract him from the treacherous roads. Thank god he had a Jeep, or else you would’ve died. You couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, less than that when you were on the highway out of the city.

Ren kept mumbling things like it’s okay, I’m sorry, I know it's cold, whenever you shivered and took in sharp breaths. You must’ve been out for a while, to get this bad. A quick look at the clock in his car said you’d been asleep for three hours, who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t noticed your car…

He helped you out, more carried you, towards the check-in desk. Too worried you would pass out in the car if he left you for too long, the front desk lady was quick and sweet. Making sure to send up extra blankets and pillows to your suite. Ren had you walk up with him, so he wouldn’t have to carry you and the luggage on separate trips.

You clutched his hand like a child, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. But he was so warm, it’s all you could think about. All you wanted was to be warm, nodding blindly to whatever Ren said to do.

Plug your phone in, check.

Let him talk to your mom, check.

Draw a bath for you, check.

Climb in the bath with you, double-check.

It wasn’t until you were defrosted in the clawfoot tub that you realized you were naked with him.

Rens chest against your back, holding you like his life depended on it. Judging by his shaking, you both were probably suffering from acute hypothermia. You had been silent for so long your voice spooked him a little, “Thank you.”

He hummed into your hair, which was sitting on top of your head in a messy bun. “Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly, “Can we go lay down?”

“Yeah,” Ren hastily got out of the tub, draining it and wrapping you in plush towels. You were still too cold to blush from your nakedness, not how you pictured this going. You imagined you would finally give into him on some drunken party night, barely remembering his reaction to seeing you nude.

But now he had seen you half-frozen, forced to cradle you back to life.

------

You squinted from your cocoon, greeted by a dimly lit room.

One spare lamp on a dingy-looking nightstand, well it wasn’t terrible. It was better than your nightstand in your dorm room… where was your dorm room anyway?

Something vibrated behind you, followed by a heavyweight sprawling against your back.

You held your breath, you were in a hotel.

With a stranger.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Okay, you could wiggle out of here. You took a moment to study the room, there was the lamp from before, and some curtains on a metal rod in the far corner. If you managed to get out without being detected you could knock out the assailant.

“You smell so good.”

More weight settled on you, now you were trapped. This bear was closing in, who knows what happened while you were asleep! All you could remember was falling asleep at your dorm after the upsetting trip to the airport, then being dragged away.

Your fingers burning when you tried to use them, being shoved in a car…

Kylo.

“Kylo?!”

“Mhm.”

You threw your arms up, successfully throwing him off you and the covers. Your limbs screaming at the sudden movement, you were still suffering from the cold. Next to you, curled in a ball, totally catlike, was Ren.

A sleepy smile gracing his lips, hands curled under his cheek, and legs moving towards his chest, Like a child under a blanket. You gasped when you saw he was naked, “Fuck!”

You were too.

“What the fuck, Ren!?”

“Stop yelling,” you watched his hand bat his nose like an animal, “Come back, you were warm.”

You huffed, flailing off the bed in search of your bags.

Memories flooding back to you, he took you here after saving your life.

The bath.

Ugh, bad time to remember your kiss the night before.

Ren sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly. You flushed red when you looked between his legs, shit. How does he walk around with that? Is that why he has bad posture? You choked on your spit when he spread his legs out.

Sprawling completely on the mattress like he wasn’t in a room with a stranger.

“Snow hasn’t stopped,” Ren yawned, snapping a hand and pointing between his legs, “Come back.”

“I’m not doing anything until you have clothes on.”

He rolled his eyes, now looking you up and down. Focusing on your bare tits, swinging around with your erratic movements. You watched him lick his lips, wagging his eyebrows, “Come on, don’t you want to sit back on the bed?”

You shook your head, crouching down to your bag. Trying to not flash him more of your goods, but that didn’t work. Not with him leaning to the side of the bed to make a show of him peeping on you.

A wolfish grin splitting his face, “You have a nice ass.”

“Can you stop,” you huffed, tugging on some sweats you found.

Ren made a pouting noise when you stood, pushing his bottom lip out while you threaded your arms through a t-shirt. You shivered a little-it was still freezing in the room. Probably from the weather, it sounded like it got worse… hopefully this place would keep power.

You looked back at the bed, Ren was still manspreading. One of his large paws crawling towards his cock, watching you with the same smirk. He let out a soft sigh when he touched himself, eyes momentarily shutting in bliss.

“Do you have to do that with me here?”

He cracked an eye open, “Do you have to be that far away?”

You scoffed, moving to the corner of the room. Shivering since you were near the window, you plopped down in the cheap armchair. Ignoring the sounds of his fist gliding along his cock, you tucked your feet under your body. Humming a tune to ignore the arousal growing between your legs, there was no way you were caving to him.

What kind of man does that with a complete stranger present!?

More importantly, why was it turning you on?

“Come here,” he whistled, you spared a glance at him. Blushing profusely at the sight, his cock was now fully erect. Standing tall and proud, tip flushed almost purple from want. You quickly looked away, trying to swallow down the drool that gathered in your mouth.

What would happen if you gave in?

Not like it would hurt you… he looked so delicious.

“If I come over there, what's gonna happen,” you whispered, determined to stay put.

With a deep breath, the mattress groaned under his weight, probably leaning back to get comfortable. He seemed to love you being there, watching him, or trying not to. Ren made a small non-committal scoff, “Whatever you want to happen, baby.”

“Don’t call me that, you know my name.”

“Meow.”

Your head snapped towards him, met with his grin. “Come on-you really want me to do this by myself?” he waved his cock, fist tight around the base. You rolled your eyes, training your eyes to focus on the least attractive part about him.

You were coming up empty, all you could stare at was his cock.

The prominent vein along the underside thrumming in time with his heartbeat. You could practically feel it along your tongue, rigid and stiff. Slowly, you stood from the chair, met with a soft whine from Ren. Eying your hungrily as you sauntered over, you planted a knee in the mattress.

Between his legs, which were spread obscenely wide, he licked his lips in anticipation.

“If I help you, are you going to be nicer to me?”

He nodded, chest taking in sharp breaths. You slowly leaned back on your heels, stripping your top off, despite him seeing you naked earlier. Surprised when he bit his bottom lip, watching you play with your tits, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Just to make him squirm a bit, “I’ll be nicer, whatever you want.”

“I’m really cold still,” you spoke softly, making sure to lean in close enough to graze his lips with your own before pulling away, “Can you help warm me up?”

“Yes,” Ren's hands shot out, kneading your flesh a few times. Debating to grasp your tits or the small of your waist, like a kid in a candy store. So many options, but you didn’t want to wait. If you were doing this, it would be about you.

“Eat me out.”

He stilled, cocking a brow, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you exhaled on his neck, being sure to drag your kitty claws along his chest. Briefly grazing his nipples, savoring the way he gasped. “Eat me out, if you make me cum, I’ll let you fuck me. Like the desperate slut you are.”

Ren scowled for a moment, nudging your face from his neck. Eyes dancing across your face before capturing your lips, moaning softly in your mouth, “I can make you cum so hard you’ll never want another man again.”

You placed a soft kiss, rolling onto your back dramatically. Splaying your legs wide, “If that's true, why do you fuck a different girl every week?”

He growled at you, actually growled.

Hands no longer soft in their quest to memorize your skin, instead Ren pinned your legs hard enough for them to pop. Making you squeal from the stretch, “How fast do you think I can make you cum? Hm?”

Before you could answer, he dove in.

Lips wrapping around your clit and suckling fast, tongue flicking out every few seconds. You were already bucking up to meet him, but his firm hold kept you flush. While his tongue began to lap thick stripes along the seam of your pussy. Briefly hooking the tip into your entrance, both of you moaning when he tasted your wetness.

“Shit-Kylo!”

“Mm,” his voice vibrated against your clit, continuing his assault until you choked on your spit. You buried your fingers in his hair, keeping him in that right spot. “I’m so fucking close,” you cried out, pleading his name over and over and over.

“You know,” he popped off, smacking his lips that were glistening with your cum, “I’d rather you cum on my cock.”

“Wait-”

Ren flipped you onto your chest, yanking your hips into the air. You barely had time to take a breath before he shoved his cock inside you. His breath hitched as he sank to the hilt, you groaned at the stretch. Now this, this you could get used to.

He pulled out slowly, you heard him swear under his breath. Leaving just the tip of his cock inside and ramming his hips into yours. Pulling a loud scream from your lungs, Ren chuckled at that. Pumping his cock at a rough pace, “Shh-you’re going to upset our neighbors.”

You huffed, cheap shot, angling your hips a little so his cock would rub up against your front wall. Moaning when he picked up the pace, skin slapping skin. Ren leaned over your form, planting a hand on the headboard to keep it from knocking. You weakly lifted your head, clenching at the sight of his knuckles turning white.

All you could do was sit and take it, revealing in the bliss you’d denied yourself for four months.

-------

Ren dropped you both off at the airport two days later.

You spent three days together, fucking each other's brains out.

Choking on his cock while he was brushing his teeth, eating you out while you read through your newsfeed. Bouncing on his cock while he fed you breakfast, you didn’t need to change clothes the entire vacation.

But you wanted to go home and were thankful for the storm ending so you could head home. It was a little awkward, Ren wasn’t very excited about the snow stopping. It felt like he was trying to stall you leaving but reluctantly listened to your desire to fly home.

“Got everything?” he mumbled, hitching his backpack over his shoulder. The two of you were waiting in the TSA line, about to part ways to head home. You nodded, giving him a tight smile before stepping up on your own.

Ignoring the feeling of his eyes on the back of your head.

Both of you stood awkwardly after making it through, “Well-my gates over here,” you pointed behind you. Ren hummed in acknowledgment, kicking at the ground instead of looking at you.

“Thanks for letting me crash with you,” you tried again, still nothing.

You groaned, spinning on your heel. Back to being an asshole, you were kicking yourself for thinking he would be nicer. All he wanted was some pussy, and you willingly gave into him when you should’ve remained strong.

Your parents picked you up back at home, lots of tears and laughs were shared. Thankful that you made it home without freezing, your mom was grateful for your friend who saved your life. She wanted to call him and tell him how much she appreciated it but you shrugged it off, he was just being nice. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything, you left out the part that he was the neighbor you always complained about.

Collapsing on your bed felt surreal like you would wake up and be back in the hotel room at any moment. It was odd not sleeping next to him, you had grown accustomed to his clingy arms. Circling you in the middle of the night when he thought you were dead asleep, smelling your hair before tucking you into his naked chest.

You tossed and turned all night, groaning when you were woken by your siblings to get up the next morning. Barely sleeping a wink, you resolved to take a nap later to try and not spoil your trip back home.

At breakfast, your mom yelled at you from the kitchen.

“Hey hon, someone’s calling you!”

“Just answer it,” you groaned through a mouthful of cereal. Briefly hearing your mother answer in a typical chipper tone, stalling mid-sentence before she yelled again, “It’s someone named Kyle?”

Shit, you shot to the kitchen.

Snatching the phone and escaping to the living room where no one was hiding.

“Kylo?”

Hey, didn’t think you’d answer.

“How’d you get my number?”

Took it while you were napping the other day, I knew you wouldn’t give it to me willingly.

You rolled your eyes, “Alright creeper, what’s up?”

Just wanted to talk or whatever, felt weird not to.

Silence.

Are you gonna let me buy you coffee when we are back?

“You were being serious about that?”

A scoff.

Yeah-or we could just fuck again if that’s all you want from this.

“Coffee sounds good.”

Cool. Cool.

It’s a date.

-------

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttless @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

#adamdriver #adam driver #kylo ren #anon asked #create a scenerio #modern kylo ren #college kylo ren #roomates trope

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lackingspace · 4 years

Text

Vindictive (Ghostface x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Danny is jealous and that’s your fault.

Warnings: Rough oral sex, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, cum swallowing, light daddy kink, Danny just being Danny.

A/N: Had a request for a Jealous Danny. Here it is! I hope you like it. Sorry its taken so long! ･ﾟﾟ･(>д<)･ﾟﾟ･

When you were first dropped in this place you’d been confused, scared, and a little more than annoyed because what the fuck had you done to land yourself here? After the first few freak outs of death and despair, being sacrificed, and the general malaise of being here became your new normal. Falling into a routine became easy after that- trial, struggle, escape if you were lucky, die if you weren’t, and repeat.

Quite frankly, things were getting boring. The others trapped with you made it better, talking, joking around on occasion- friends forged in unfortunate circumstances. It was a tiny slice of normality that you were grateful for because who knows how long you’d been here or would be here. Time didn’t mean anything when there was really no way to measure it. You just knew that it was far longer than you’d have liked. Long enough to become numb to the killers and their brutal treatment. To find them not so threatening and more of an inconvenience.

You missed the real world. Missed the simple things in life- a walk in the park, meeting up with friends, food- God did you miss food. But what you missed the most was an intimate connection. And sex. You definitely missed sex. Relieving tension and having something to distract you from this monotonous existence would have been a blessing.

None of the others trapped with you really appealed to you. Sure Jake was cute, and Yui had that badass look, even Ash had the daddy thing going for him...but none of them really set your nerves on fire. At least not even enough to try it out and spend eternity awkwardly if it didn’t fly. But damn did you need release. so with no options for a partner, you settled on sneaking away into the woods to take care of yourself.

And that’s how he found you. One hand down your pants and the other up your shirt, eyes closed, head tossed back, and softly moaning. He’d leaned against the tree directly in front of you and waited quietly until you opened your eyes. You’d almost had a heart attack when you opened them to see Ghostface casually leaning there while staring you down. It was altogether embarrassing but still had your senses buzzing.

All he did was firmly tell you to keep going. That he was enjoying the show. And something about it, his voice? The command? It just worked for you. Maybe it was the combination of him being dangerous, a killer- someone familiar, but not, an unknown that made your senses tingle mixed with his nonchalant attitude and that damned voice that made your toes curl. So you’d done what he’d asked and kept going.

That marked the start of whatever it was you had going on with Ghostface. At first, it was just hooking up- sneaking away when you saw him lurking and wandering back with a few new pleasurable aches, pains, and bruises. You were sure some of your friends noticed- you knew for a fact Bill, Ace, and David did. The raised brows they’d give you on occasion told you that you were found out. That they knew a clandestine meet up just took place. As long as they knew what you were up to, just not with who, you didn't care. For all they knew it could be another survivor who hadn't wandered back from a trial yet because who would be fucking a killer?

You were content with ignoring them and they seemed fine with not questioning. Besides, it wasn't their business and you have no plans on stopping because it was something you enjoyed- it unquestionably helped deal with the mental stress of repeatedly dying. After a while though, and you really couldn’t pinpoint when, it turned into something a little more. At least for you.

Made you unnecessarily giddy when he was the killer in your trials. Both of you more playful in chases, he had a habit of drawing those out with you, grabbing your ass before letting you run away only for him to ambush you, down you, and then run his hands up all over you before picking you up.

If he caught you jumping through a window? You better expect a few well-placed slaps while he teased all sorts of dirty things he'd do to you once he had you alone.

You didn’t want to admit it, but feelings had reared their ugly head in you for this sarcastic bastard. You caught yourself being soft for him when you really shouldn’t have. Honestly, you felt a little bad because you weren’t the best teammate if he was the killer of the trial. You should have been focusing on gen rushing, saves, or even trying to distract him- which you were more than capable of doing.

But instead, you found yourself being distracted by him. You'd be there staring, sighing while watching him sneak around. Giggle to yourself about how much of a sadistic bastard he was when in a chase. And if he found you? And God did you want him to- you were even more useless. You weren’t fooling anyone with your pseudo-chase. You didn’t really try to escape but that was ok, both of you liked it that way. You always blamed it as an off match when questioned why you’d done so poorly. No one seemed to notice it was only during a trial with him, and you were totally fine with that.

So that was how your existence was for now. Honestly, you weren’t mad about it either. His attention in and out of trials gave you back a spark that had been dulled after one too many sacrifices. This trial was no different, you found yourself relaxed, good-spirited, and snickering at a comment Zarina just made. When the gen popped you looked over to see Jane shaking a hand with a mumbled apology. A second later she let out a shriek and started running away.

You knew what that meant and so you tried to gauge if you should sneak away as well, but you hadn’t seen what she had. Would've been nice if she’d have at least said the killer before sprinting off, but you understood sometimes they just caught you off guard and fight or flight took over.

Cautiously looking around you decided it was best just to move on, Zarina had the moment Jane ran. You probably waited around too long and would get caught, but at least you'd be prepared after you got off the hook. The fact that you hadn’t heard any footsteps or seen anyone usually meant it was someone stealthy too. You really didn’t want the shape. He was always terrible to play against in this underground lab. Harder to outmaneuver him within the space. Hope welled inside you that it was your...boyfriend? well, whatever he was, you wanted Ghostface. Trying to quietly sneak away seemed like it was going fine until you were suddenly stopped.

Something had gripped the back of your shit and yanked. You stumbled and then felt yourself being dragged around a corner only to have your face pressed against a wall. You were pretty sure you knew who it was, but shit why was he being so rough?

“So that’s the game you want to play, huh?” Your wish came true, it was your sarcastic boo, Ghostface- you had no idea what he was talking about though, “What the hell do you mean? What’s th-” he cut you off as he pressed in against your back while placing a hand in front of your smashed face, “Don’t give me that. You know damn well what I’m talking about.” He said it with so much venom dripping in his voice, you’d never actually heard him like that before.

He was usually snide, sarcastic, kinda dark, sometimes angry, but this? He sounded well beyond any of that. And it was all aimed at you….shit.

“Dude, I really” He pressed a forearm to the twisted side of your neck and gripped your shoulder. You winced at the pressure, “Really have no idea what you’re talking about. What game?” There was silence as you felt cold sweat run down your spine. In that same vicious tone, he answered as his grip tightened on your shoulder, “I saw you and that bastard.”

You wracked your brain trying to figure out what he meant. It had to have been something in this trial, he wasn’t upset when you’d seen him be-- oh god it hit you just like that. You’d slipped and would have had a nasty face-first fall into some crates, barrels, and a pallet, but Ace had grabbed you. Unfortunately, it’d been by the hips and as soon as he got you up he’d apologized for the placement while patting a shoulder.

He must have seen that. It had to be what he was talking about….But did that mean....was he jealous? His knife suddenly stabbed into the wall next to your face, ohhh, even if he denied it you could tell, he was. There was no question with the growl in his voice, the tight grip he had- which you’d like to point out was only getting tighter, and now the knife threateningly in your face? This wasn’t his normal rational ‘let me weasel my way in, tease, and manipulate to my advantage’, this screamed irritated topped with irrational.

And even though your brain screamed it was an awfully bad idea, you were going to have fun with it.

“Not even going to deny it? You little fucking whore.” The rage in his voice felt like someone had submerged you in acid. It really did make your skin crawl that he thought you’d do something like that. After everything the two of you got up to he should have realized how much his dick did it for you. And only his dick. That aside, you weren’t going to just lay down and take his attitude. Nope, not at all. If he was going to be a jealous prick then you were going to be a coy bitch. It might land you in hot water, but you were hoping it was the kind you liked with him, “Oh, but Ghostface, I thought you liked it when I was bent over?”

The arm still pinning across the back of your neck lifted off quicker than lightning only to move into your hair and rip your head back with a snarl, “Only when your bent in front of me you little cunt!” You moaned at the pain in your scalp but still enjoyed the feeling. It sent some nice jolting tingles straight to your nipples, “But I was in front of you.” The grip in your hair was impossibly tight as the knife scraped against the wall as it moved from next to your face to press against your newly exposed throat. Ignoring that you pressed on, “You’re just pissed that it wasn’t your hands on me.”

Even with his knife millimeters away from cutting into you and the very real possibility that he was beyond reasoning, would just slit your throat and throw you up to hang- there was still an overwhelming feeling of bravado and the need to tease just as much as his anger was crushing down on you.

With that feeling overflowing, you took the chance before he responded to push just a little more, “In fact, I bet you’re mad because you couldn't make me stay like that.” Wiggling under his tight grip had your hair pulling and the knife pressing harder into your throat- a wet trickle down the side told you skin broke, “Bet you would have fucked me right there too. Let my friends see who's been giving it to me.” The hiss he let out had a smirk clawing its way onto your lips. That feeling of getting under his skin made it impossible to keep your next thought locked inside, “Too bad it was just Ace...His rough hands grabbing me, having him pressing against me, he could have pushed me however he’d wanted...too bad it wasn’t you.”

Growling out, “You little bitch.” he quickly pulled his knife away as he pressed his hips into yours- he must have liked what you'd said because he was half-hard already. Pulling your hair harder had you moaning out at both the rough treatment of your scalp and the hard length now pressed against your ass. A hot flush circulated your system as relief filled you- The fact that he hadn’t plunged the knife in was a good sign. It seemed like your gamble had paid off.

You moved your hips against his as he leaned in to hiss in your ear, “You’re fucking right I would have fucked you right there. Would have shown that prick exactly who you belong to.”

His knife hand grabbed your hip in a bruising grip and directed you how he liked, “I should just throw you up on a fucking hook with your tits out and my name carved across your chest for everyone to see.” Another wave of heat flushed through you at that, Would he? That’d be embarrassing as hell and you really did not want to explain that to your friends, at least not yet. But it sent heat through you all the same. "Show them how nasty you really are." On second thought explaining wouldn't be that big of an issue. Your squirming gave away how much you liked the thought, which he pointed out, “Of course a dirty girl like you gets off on that. I shouldn't even let you come. Should just use you and make you wait until you're really fucking sorry. ”

Ignoring that last part to focus on his phrasing. He had said should, which implied that he was questioning it, so you asked in a shaky voice, “But?” Between his hands and his hips, you couldn’t hold back the moan at the pleasurable drag of him against your ass- he was only getting harder, “But nothing, I might just fucking do that...either way, they're going to talk. ” The hand in your hair released and reached around to hold your cheeks in a harsh grip, “I’m going to teach you a fucking lesson because it seems like my mouthy whore needs to be reminded of who she belongs to and what that means. They get free tickets to the show...Lucky them.”

The venom was still there, but instead of the pure angry tone from before, it was colored by an undercurrent of something darker- something hotter. Something that told you on an instinctual level you wouldn’t be walking the same if the entity didn’t have pity and heal whatever he was about to punish you with. Fuck, you wanted it though. Wanted all the pleasurable pain he was about to dish out to you. “You’re going to regret letting that bastard anywhere near you.”

Your brain wasn’t functioning not when he’d just declared he wanted everyone to hear him fucking you. See the evidence of it. Threatening it like he’d done about carving up your tits was a hot possibility, but he was actually serious about this. You weren’t sure what it was he was going to do to you, but you could tell you most certainly weren’t going to be quiet about it.

Ghostface could get rough sometimes, but it wasn’t the usual. Demanding? Yes. Controlling? Definitely. Explicit? Absolutely. But being rough just to be rough was generally only when he was especially frustrated, and that wasn’t often. Maybe only a handful of times since you’d been together and at this point, you weren’t even sure how long that was, all you knew was that it’d been a while.

Which boasted to how much this affected him. How jealous he was seeing something that really, really hadn’t been anything at all. It should have turned you off, sent you running by how possessive he was, but you ignored that in favor of knowing he got you wetter than anyone else had ever done before. There was no way he’d admit to being jealous though, not outright, but you knew that’s what this was all about and fuck did that work for you. Having him teach you a lesson? All you could do was moan at the prospect.

“Such an eager slut for it even after knowing your friends are gonna see. So pathetic.” You whined, whether in protest or confirmation it wasn’t clear, “You think it’s ok to let someone else put their hands on what’s mine? That’s not going to work, kitten.” at the pet name you knew this was going to be fun- but you couldn’t let him know that though, would have to turn up the waterworks, “We’re going to show them just what a disgusting whore you really are for me. Let them see you taking my cock and how you beg for it.”

He shoved you down to your knees. The impact against the hard concrete making you wince, “Good, feel the sting. Better get used to it because your throat is about to feel it too.” he was going to fuck your face? God. You loved when he made you choke on it and you could tell with how aggressive he was you really were going to choke.

The thumb on the hand on your face swiped across your bottom lip, dipping in to press down on your tongue causing some drool to slip down before regripping your face with the now wet appendage, “You’re going to open wide and let Daddy use this pretty mouth of yours while we let all your little fucking friends know whos been sending you back to that fucking fire pit covered in bruises.” Goddamn that set your nerves ablaze and if your panties hadn’t already been drenched that was added insurance. He was usually subtly possessive but this was flat out plain as day possessive and it had you crying for it.

You didn't care anymore. You didn't give a single fuck if you had to explain why they'd caught you with a mouth full of Ghostface's cock- and maybe more. if this meant him declaring to everyone that you were his you’d happily tell them to fuck off if they had any issues.

You were going to beg him for it, but the hand gripping your face prevented anything escaping outside of mumbled strained moans. He answered for you though because he forcefully made you nod up and down. In a mocking falsetto, he voiced for you, “Yes, sir. I’ll open up like a good girl and apologize with my filthy mouth. I'll show you how sorry I am for letting some asshole put their hands on me.”

Yes, fuck yes! is wanted to say, but all that came out was a garbled moan through your closed mouth. At the sound, his grip tightened, “Such a fucking slut. Would you have moaned for that fuck too?” At your muffled outrage his grip forced your gaze up, “At least you fucking know better on that.”

You thought he would release you to undo his pants, but after a second of silence and you quietly looking at him, he said, "well? Get to apologizing with that pretty mouth before I decide to gut you instead." Ah, he wanted you to do it. That was fine by you, didn't really want him to let go of your hair anyways. You opened his pants with ease, already intimately familiar with the clasps and he squeezed your cheeks forcing your mouth open before he finally released the grip as you took him in.

He was hard and pulsing when you pulled him out, precome just slightly swelling at the tip. He would have shoved into your still open mouth if it hadn’t been for the entranced look you were giving him. The affectionate desperation you wore while staring helped quell the rage clawing through him. He decided he'd let you play for a second, seeing you so willing to drool for him tore against the need to roughly shove down your throat.

Unabashedly licking a hand before wrapping it tightly around his base to give him a rough tug. Staring up at his mask again you pleaded with him, "I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t do it on purpose." Teasing his tip against your lips before you kissed the head, "I don't want him. Or any of them. Wanted it to be you" Licking the underside followed by a few gentle nibbles to the base made his breath catch, "Always you, daddy."

His cock twitched against your tongue as he hissed, "And I like that they'll know. I want them to hear what you're about to do to me." He retightened his fist in your hair to pull your head back slightly. He took himself from your hands to slap his cock across your cheeks, "Yeah? You're gonna get off on them hearing your mouth full of killer cock? Filthy thing." You whined desperately trying to nod against his grip, "Then open fucking wide." You dropped your mouth quicker than he finished speaking and you were rewarded with another slap across your cheek before you felt him rest heavy against your tongue.

It was hard not to close around him and start working on the shaft, but you could tell he wasn't going to let you warm up to it. He wanted you wrecked- a gagging crying used looking mess. And the heat that sent through you had your clit pulsing in want and made you squirm around for some type of relief. But you'd be a good girl and take it for him.

"Keep your fucking eyes on me and don't you dare try to keep quiet. You better make as much noise as you fucking can." Before you could answer he was shoving to the back of your throat and down. The choked sob you made was just what he wanted as you gagged around him. Sliding down your throat, he mockingly cooed, “Aw, is that too much? Don’t lie, I know you can take it, kitten. Just relax and swallow like my good girl. Impress all your survivor friends.”

You gagged hard and sputtered around him while he kept thrusting using the grip in your hair to hold you in place, “Don’t even try to deny it. You’re always gagging for it regularly. I bet those little boys wish they were here in this tight wet heat instead.” His voice was strained and you could hear him holding back his own moans.

Gripping his thighs tightly while trying to relax like he'd suggested, but the burning stretch of your throat was hard to ignore, “But that's why we started this, huh?” his thrusts had been rapid and shallow, but were turning slower while he held in your throat longer, “None of their cocks would do it for you.” Swallowing around him only made him hold deeper, “ For as much of a dirty slut you are, none of them could get you going like I can.”

Tears were freely falling- leaving tracks down your cheeks, drool was constantly spilling out, your throat ached at the persistent gagging, and the obscene noises you were making with each thrust was driving the both of you wild. “None of them. None...of...those...pricks!” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, “No one can fuck you like I do.” You moaned sloppily around his cock in agreement, “ They’re not going to throat fuck you like this. And they not going to bend you over and make you fucking take it like daddy.” crying out around him just as much as you were gagging- near constantly and God did you love it.

You’d be begging for him to fuck you if you didn’t have a mouthful at the moment. So instead you were squirming, tightly gripping his thighs, tears continued to spill down, and taking anything he gave you. He knew you well enough to know what your pathetic looks and sounds meant, but he wasn’t folding, “Aw, do you want something?” all that came out were some choked sobs, “What's that? I can’t really understand you.” He shoved completely down your throat and held your head there causing you to swallow and make some disgusting throat sounds, “You should really learn not to talk with your mouth full, kitten.” He tutted at you while you sobbed harder, “ But I can’t expect any manners on such a dirty girl.”

His hand tightening and his voice gaining a shakiness betrayed how close he was even if he looked like the picture of control, “You’re not meant for them.” His pace quickened, “Your place is right fucking here.” He was using both hands to direct your head now, “On your goddamn knees for me.” He pulled out as he ripped your head back, “Gone on, tell them who fucking owns this you!” It only took you a second to catch your breath before you were rasping out his name, “Ghostface! I’m yours, just yours!” Movement in your peripheral caused your eyes to widen, someone was definitely watching. Maybe they all were, but you wouldn’t fuck this up by looking over to them. Who knows what he’d do then.

You could hear how smug he was when he whispered, “Yeah they’re fucking watching. Saw you choking on it like a professional. Now show them how much of a cumslut you are for me and beg for it. If you do it good enough, maybe I’ll be nice and let you cum before the end of the trial.” Denying him wasn’t even a question, you’d said you wanted them to hear and now they had. The satisfaction that at least one of them knew was sending a burning hot pulse through you.

So you started begging with your raw voice, “Please, I need it Ghostface! I want it so bad! Need your cum! I wanna taste it so bad. Please! Please, daddy, can I have it?!” He was still pumping his cock in front of your face while you continued to say his name like a prayer, “Open that pretty mouth for me, Babe.” You did as you were told and opened wide while staring up at his mask. The hand not working himself gripped your chin, sliding his thumb inside before moving back up into your hair to yank your head where he wanted. Keeping your mouth open as far as you could you moaned for it.

You could see more movement to the side, but you ignored it when you felt the first spurt of his cum splash against your cheek. He covered your face before giving you the last on your waiting tongue. “Keep your mouth open.” You heard the telltale clicks of his camera and embarrassment flushed through you just as a new wave of arousal settled low in your stomach. “You can swallow it now.” You made a show of savoring the taste for him, and anyone watching.

Slowly opening your eyes you could feel your lashes heavy with his cum. You moved to wipe some of it away, but he caught your wrist, “You’re going to leave that right where it is.” You gave him a questioning look that he answered with, “I’m going to hang you up on that hook and you're going to run around the rest of this trial with it on your face.” Your jaw dropped as your face burned. That was so fucking embarrassing. You’d think that wouldn’t bother you since you let everyone watch you be thoroughly face fucked but having to talk to them with cum on you went to the next level. But you wouldn't try to stop him- didn’t want to. It sent a nasty pulse of perverse heat through you, “If you keep it like a good girl, I’ll fuck you in front of them before the trials up.” You were begging before you even realized.

He chuckled while brushing some of your hair back from your face, “Well, let's get you up there on the hook then.” He lifted you with ease and surprisingly gently compared to his treatment just a second ago. You felt the familiar feel of the hook entering you, heard yourself scream, and then you were hanging there and he was patting a cheek of your ass, “Remember, no wiping it off until I say.” and then he was walking off.

You hung there for a few minutes before you saw Jane silently walking towards you. You tried to look away, but she was already lifting you off of it. Settling on your feet had you unconsciously looking up to her. She was taking you in with a raised brow and a slight smirk, “Ghostface, huh?” Hearing her say it was about enough to kill you from embarrassment.

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salsadips · 3 years

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Love your work❤️❤️ I’m not sure if you write for Rafe but I you do, how about number 79 with him?✌🏼

To the beach - Rafe Cameron

I know you requested this such a long time ago and I'm sorry that I never got to it, but I haven't been on this app for so long and I just recently rewatched the show and wanted to write this<3

Prompt 79: "We'd make such a badass couple"

Prompts

Summary: you convince Rafe to go to the beach with you while you’re both as high as you can be

Warnings: drugs, swearing, violence (just a little fight were sexy Rafe kicks ass), a little sexual but nothing dangerous;)

Not my gif, creds to the owner

You had always been close with Sarah, ever since you'd met on the playground when you were both five. That meant you'd been to dinner at her house a hundred times and slept over at least a thousand times. Sarah was your best friend and the two of you were rarely seen without the other.

It wasn't until about a year ago that you'd started noticing Rafe Cameron, Sarah's older brother. He'd always been around and he loved to make fun but you'd never seen him as anything more than Sarah's annoying brother. Last summer though, you'd suddenly realized how good-looking he actually was. It had been like a wake-up call for you. One day he was the same he'd always been, and the next he'd walked out to the pool where you and Sarah had been tanning, sending a wink your way, as he often did because he was a tease, and then jumped into the water, looking extremely good. You remembered the way he'd pushed his wet hair aside once he'd reached the surface again, and the way his muscles had tensed when he'd pulled himself out of the pool.

Since then you'd been aware every time Rafe had entered a room and somehow the smirk and winks that couldn't get to you before, now made your knees weak. You hadn't told anyone about this newfound discovery of yours though and it was a secret you intended to keep. It wasn't like you wanted to go anywhere with Rafe, he was your best friend's brother, but you couldn't help sneaking a peak of him from afar from time to time.

Currently, you were in Sarah's room, getting ready for a party. It was a party Topper, Sarah's annoying and overly protective boyfriend, had gotten you and Sarah invited to. You knew a lot of the people who were coming you just didn't know the guy throwing the party. His name was Toby if you remembered correctly, and apparently his parents were out of town for the weekend.

When you arrived at the party, Sarah quickly disappeared somewhere with Topper. He was probably showing her all the things he didn't want her to drink or touch or do. You rolled your eyes at the thought. Sarah knew you weren't Topper's biggest fan, but you never voiced your opinion of him.

You wandered around by yourself for a while until you found a group of people that you knew. You sat with them for a while, laughing and drinking more than you should, until you were pretty wasted. You must've sat there for about an hour when Rafe came and sat down beside you. You weren't surprised to see him, Rafe had always been where the party was.

The sofa you were sitting on was small, so Rafe and you were close once he'd squeezed down in between you and a girl named Carla. Carla was beautiful in such an annoying way. She was the kind of beautiful that made her get all the attention and she never even tried hiding how much she enjoyed it. She knew she was gorgeous and she would always use it to make a big drama. And even though she scooted closer to Rafe the minute he sat down, carefully tracing a finger down his arm while she spoke with a flirtatious tone "hi Rafe", his attention was solely on you.

"Wanna try this?" Rafe asked you as he pulled out a bag of pills from his pocket. You'd taken drugs before, but never with Rafe, and though you knew it was a bad idea and Sarah would kill you, how could you say no?

You starred into Rafe's eyes as you sank a pill. He smirked as he took one as well, before smoothly draping his arm around your shoulders, leaning back on the couch. "Get out of here" Rafe demanded Carla, who'd been looking at you and Rafe with surprised eyes during your whole interaction. She huffed and made a dramatic swing of her hair before walking off towards the kitchen.

You smiled, no one dared stand up to Rafe Cameron. You had no idea why he was there with you, you figured he had lots of other people to do drugs with, but you didn't mind. You casually leaned into him, trying not to make it look like it was intentional, and waited for the room to start spinning.

It surprised you how fast the pill worked. Soon your body relaxed the way it only did when you smoked weed, but it was different from that still. It was like your limbs weighed a hundred pounds, but you still had all the energy in the world. You had a hard time describing the feeling, all you knew was that you liked it.

"I'm gonna go for a swim" you announced after you'd gotten used to the way your brain worked while under the effect of the drug. You rose from the sofa and almost fell to the floor, but Rafe caught you. "Thanks" your words came out blurry as you took Rafe's hand and led him towards the exit. Once you passed the kitchen and kept heading for the front door, Rafe pulled your arm back. "Pool's this way" he pointed to his right. You laughed at him as if he'd said the dumbest thing in the world.

"I don't wanna go in the pool, I wanna go in the ocean" you deadpanned as if it was obvious. "And how will you get to the beach?" Rafe laughed while slowly pulling you closer to him. "You have a bike don't you?" You raised your brows whiled tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You looked at his lips, lingering them there for a moment before you looked back into his eyes. God, he was so hot.

When he didn't protest, you turned around and started walking again. You immediately spotted Rafe's bike once you were outside, and you ran towards it, excitingly placing yourself on it once you reached it.

"I'm a bit too drunk to drive," Rafe smiled as he reached the bike as well. "It's never stopped you before, come on" you insisted.

It didn't take long for you to convince Rafe to take the two of you to the beach. After all, he wasn't the most responsible person on the island, so after a promise that oh yeah, you'd most definitely be skinny dipping, Rafe was all for it.

Your hands were snaked around Rafe's waist as the wind was blowing through your hair. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being close to Rafe while driving through the night. The moment was ruined though when you felt your phone buzzing in the back pocket of your pants. You released your grip from around Rafe and pulled out your phone, it was Sarah calling. Instead of answering though, you went to the camera on your phone and took a couple of pictures. Your brain was pretty clouded though, so you chose to listen to the only current reasonable part of your mind, and put your phone back in your pocket before you dropped it.

It didn't take long for you to get to the beach, probably having something to do with Rafe driving way over the speed limit, but life was too good for you to care at the moment. Rafe stopped the engine of his dirtbike and you laughed, kissing his neck once from behind, before jumping off the bike and running towards the water.

Rafe had to take a minute, he was more used to the drugs, so it took a bit longer for him to get affected by them. He was just thanking God or the universe, or whoever the fuck was in charge, that he'd managed to drive here with a somewhat clear mind. The drugs slowly crept in on him now though and when he spotted you laying in the sand, laughing, some ten meters in front of him. There were absolutely no cons for him to go join you.

When you were laying in the sand with your eyes closed, you swore it felt like flying and you couldn't stop laughing. You questioned if you'd ever experienced anything as extraordinary. While Rafe was locking his bike, two guys approached you, drunk and curious as to what you were doing. You didn't notice them until they stood right above you, looking down at you. You opened your eyes and raised yourself in a hurry but your forehead collapsed with one of the guys' noses and you fell down again. You couldn't help but laugh, not even feeling the pain.

"What the fuck! I think she broke my nose" the guy called out. "Dude, chill, I barely bruised it" your laughter had died down to giggles as you rose from the ground. "Shut up! It fucking hurts" the guy raised his voice slightly, but you kept laughing. "I'm sorry, really, it wasn't even on purpose" you blinked repeatedly, trying to see straight.

"Hey! Who the fuck are you?" Rafe roared as he approached you, having finally noticed the guys. "Your girl almost broke my nose dude, fucking bitch" the guy yelled out. It was like Rafe had a switch that went from decent to aggressively angry in a matter of seconds, and he lunched at the guy. His fist landed right in the center of the guy's face, so hard you were able to hear the bones crushing. His nose was definitely broken now. The guy stumbled backward and his friend, who'd been quiet until now, immediately jumped forward, but Rafe grabbed his fist in the air and hit him in the stomach. The guy hunched forward in a cry of pain.

Both guys soon regained strength and though their punches were sloppy due to the obvious intake of alcohol, they managed to get a few good hits at Rafe seeing he wasn't really in his best state either. Everything happened so quickly you barely got to react before Rafe was in a boxing match with two strangers. They hadn't even done anything, why did Rafe freak out?

You didn't wonder for long before you ran to Rafe's side and kicked one of the strangers in the balls, making him instantly fall to the ground. Rafe hit the other right across the jaw and the strength of the punch made him fall to the soft sand as well. Both guys laid whimpering on the ground and Rafe pointed a demanding finger at them, "do not call her a bitch, you fucking losers" he roared before he grabbed your hand and walked in the opposite direction.

Once you were a couple of meters away his demeanor completely changed again, as he looked back at the guys and started laughing. "We'd make such a badass couple" he announced as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders for the second time that night, and pulled you close.

You couldn't help but smile, did he really just say that?

Your brain didn't get a lot of time to overthink what Rafe had just said though before you looked at the ocean and remembered why you were even here in the first place. You smiled like a little girl who'd just gotten a candyfloss and ran towards the ocean. You threw off your shirt while running and stepped out of your pants as you reached the water, wasting n getting in.

You were only in your underwear, but it wasn't nearly as cold as you'd feared. You dived under, getting your hair and face wet, and when you resurfaced two things happened. One, your brain immediately cleared up from the fresh sensation of water in your face, and two, Rafe was standing right in front of you.

You giggled, "wasn't it worth it? Driving all the way? A pool can't compare to this."

Rafe didn't answer, he just looked at you. He was determined to kiss you. He barely registered what you were saying, because all he could think about was kissing you. So he did just that.

Taking you by surprise, he walked forward, grabbed your face, and smashed his lips onto yours. It didn't take you many seconds to realize what was happening and you snaked your arms around his neck, eagerly pulling him closer.

What was even happening? Why would he even want to kiss you, you were younger than him and Sarah was your best friend.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was only for one night and that Rafe was the fuckboy of them all and you were probably just a fun challenge for him, his sister's best friend. But you didn't mind, you were just gonna make tonight last as long as possible and you knew you'd have no regrets in the morning.

The water stopped at your waist, which meant it reached Rafe just to the top of his hips. His hands moved from your face, down your waist, and down to your butt, giving it a squeeze. You gasped and he smoothly sneaked his tongue into your mouth. He grabbed your thighs and lifted you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and the kiss turned rough and heated. His hands stayed on your thighs, holding you up, while his thumbs traced small circles on your skin.

Truth was, Rafe had wanted to kiss you for a while. He had always thought you looked good, but recently his eyes had opened to how good-looking you actually were. God, you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

There was no sound other than the gentle waves and the sound of your mouths moving against each other. Rafe pulled your legs tighter around him and your hands moved to his hair, pulling slightly. You both let out a moan, swallowing each other's sound. You couldn't get enough, it was like you needed more, faster.

There was no way you were having sex with Sarah's brother though. She was never gonna find out about this, but if she did, she would might be able to get over a kiss, but she'd never forgive you or Rafe if you slept together.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, Rafe let go of you and you separated yourself from him. You couldn't help but smile.

You looked up at Rafe who was smiling down at you, moving his hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You tilted your head, certain that this came close to the best night of your life. You broke the silence after a couple of minutes.

"Hi Rafe" you mimicked Carla's high-pitched voice from earlier and you both started laughing. Rafe shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips as he leaned down and kissed you once before grabbing your hand and you walked back towards the shore.

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on-maars · 3 years

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Find My Way Home (Back To You)

Alright I wrote a post Eddie Begins episode fic and I really hope you’ll like it :)

Read it on AO3

Eddie sighs and turns around for what might be the tenth time in the past two hours.

He can’t sleep. He can’t sleep without being back there again. He can’t sleep without stopping the nightmares. Not about the war. He’s had his fair share of night terrors about the war, but lately the nightmares have taken another direction. He doesn’t dream of being the target of a thousand snipers anymore. He dreams of that moment. He dreams of being back there again, buried in the ground, thirty feet of wet earth above him, trapped, without any way of getting back to his son, without any way of getting back to his family. It’s suffocating, and Eddie often wakes up soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead, his sheet drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat, and tears. His tears.

He can’t sleep and he tried everything. Every method he can think of. Every method his mother used to teach him when he was scared and alone at night, suffering from insomnia. He tried some breathing exercises his therapist showed him the week before, tried taking a walk around the neighborhood to clear his head and take his mind off things, he tried reading a book and even went through some meditations videos on YouTube that Buck recommended to him a while back. But nothing is working. His mind keeps sending him back to that place. To the well.

Eddie turns around again and lets his eyes fall on his alarm clock as it reads 2:49am. Eddie sighs and presses his hands to his face, apprehending the 24 hours shift waiting for him in the early hours of the morning. Not necessarily because of the fatigue. After all it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie gets through an awfully long shift with the 118 with only a few hours of sleep in his system.

No, he’s only apprehending it because he knows, deep down, that he’s so far from being in the right state of mind to face the difficulties of his job. He feels more restless, more fidgety, less focused than usual. And if there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that the 118 is going to notice his mood swings. And if they notice, then he’s going to need to explain. Explain the extent of how messed-up he is in the head. Explain how the war still terrorized him sometimes at night. Explain how tight his throat is ever since he’s made it out of that well. And that’s a conversation he’s not ready to face.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling and gropes around in the dark until his right hand finds his phone. He knows scrolling mindlessly the news is only going to keep his brain more awake but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He unlocks his phone and frowns when he notices an unseen message from his sister in his inbox. The message is short, but it catches Eddie’s attention.

“Isn’t he your friend Buck?!”

There is a link just underneath it and when Eddie clicks on it, his breath catches in his throat and his heart starts pounding hard against his chest. It’s a video. A video of that day. A video of the rig, collapsing, and burying him under thirty feet of earth in the process. Only the video doesn’t show only that. It also shows his coworkers’ reaction. It also shows Buck.

Buck

Buck, who collapses on the ground and completely falls to pieces. Buck, who screams his name and starts digging the earth with his bare hands. Buck, who bursts into tears and whose face is contorted with fear, rage and pain. Eddie watches him as he continues calling out his name in agony, he watches him as Bobby needs to physically restrain him to stop him from digging, and Eddie swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the sight.

The scene is devastating, heartbreaking, and the last seconds of the video only shows Buck, sitting on the ground, his head down, tears rolling down his face, as the rain continues pouring down on him.

By the time Eddie finishes watching the video, his hands are shaking and the room is spinning. His whole body is tense, buzzing with a nervous energy and Eddie closes his eyes fiercely but he can’t get the images out of his head. How can he? How can he when he had to sit through and watch his best-friend having a complete breakdown in a video with more than a million views? How can he when until then, he was so far up his own ass not to notice that Buck was hurting too? Not to notice that he wasn't the only one who ended up traumatized by this day?

He sits back straight on his bed, and leans his back against the headboard, running both of his hands through his hair a few times, ignoring how his heart pulses in his head, making it hurt.

He takes his phone in his hand and gets up, stepping out of his room and going down the stairs until he reaches the living-room. Here, he lets himself fall on the couch, rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed. In vain. It’s no use. It’s no use trying to get his breathing back to normal while the only thing he really wants is to see his best-friend with his own two eyes and make sure he’s okay.

“Can you come over?” He sends. It’s short and vague, but Eddie knows Buck keeps his phone in sound mode at all times just in case this kind of emergencies come up.

But is it an emergency? Eddie asks himself as he brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It’s not. Not really. But Buck’s answer still comes after just a few seconds.

“Be there in 15. You okay? Christopher?”

“We’re okay. Just need to see you.”

Eddie jumps out of the couch and starts pacing back and forth in the living-room, not knowing what to do with himself. He squats down and starts picking up every Lego bricks lying around on the carpet, on the coffee table under the sofa. Christopher was in the middle of building a (more than unstable) house before heading to bed and he seemed so tired from his school day Eddie didn’t have the heart to ask him to tidy. He’s in the middle of retrieving a brick which ended up under the carpet when he hears the distinct sound of someone opening the front door.

He whirls his head around and finds himself face to face with Buck who looks around the living-room in alarm, his eyes wide. His hair is disheveled and his shoes are mismatched and Eddie almost feels bad for waking him up in the middle of the night while they both have a 24 hours shift waiting for them in a few hours. His best-friend’s face softens when his eyes fall on him, and Eddie doesn’t waste any time to close the gap separating them and wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Evan Buckley I swear to god you’re going to be the death of me.” He says, not thinking twice before burying his face in the crook of his best-friend’s neck. Buck seems taken aback for a few seconds, but he doesn’t question it and reciprocate the embrace with just as much vigor. “I’m sorry.” Eddie eventually says, grabbing his tee-shirt with his right hand.

“You’re sorry?” Buck repeats, his voiced filled with confusion. “About what?” He adds.

“God I’ve been so far up my own ass these past few days, haven’t I?” Eddie asks, taking a step back and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, following his gaze until he’s sure Buck looks at him in the eye. His best-friend seems reluctant at first, almost as if he already knows where the conversation is going, but then he finally meets his gaze and Eddie’s look is so intense and he’s watching him with so much attention something in his face just breaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what, Eds?” Buck asks, but from the way his voice breaks, Eddie knows it’s just a way for him to try and take the conversation elsewhere.

“Buck.” Eddie says, and it’s a warning. We’re having that conversation whether you like it or not.

“Eddie, just- Don’t, alright?” Buck starts. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s all that matters.”

“I saw the video.” Eddie says, taking another step backwards until he sits on a kitchen chair, running his right hand through his hair.

“What video?” Buck says, his voice small, but sighs and looks down when Eddie maintains eye-contact. “Took you long enough.” He only adds, leaning against the fridge. “It was literally everywhere on the news. Big headlines too.” He says, letting out a humorless laugh.

“Buck-”

“But again, I’spose it’s fun to see a firefighter completely losing it after his best-friend has been buried thirty feet underground.” Buck cuts in, his voice hollow. “I guess it ‘entertains’ people just fine”

“Buck-” Eddie starts, but his friend is faster.

“As if I want to relive that moment, you know?” Buck goes on and his voice is louder now, more aggressive. “As if one time wasn’t enough.”

“Buck, I-”

“Eddie, you cut the damn line!” He exclaims and Eddie jumps with surprise at how raw and demanding his tone is. “You cut the damn line!” He repeats and a tear rolls down his left cheek. “And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I can’t even blame you for it! You wanted to save that kid… I mean, how can I blame you for wanting to save that kid, Eddie? I can’t. I would be a fucking hypocrite if I did, man. Cause I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t be mad.” Eddie says, keeping his eyes down, incapable of meeting his best-friend’s gaze. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be angry.” He adds. “Hell, I know I would be.”

“I just- Eddie, did you ever stop for a second to imagine what it was like for me? I was pulling you out Eds. I was pulling you out and then the weight was just- the weight was just gone. You were gone.” He says through gritted teeth and Eddie darts his eyes towards him for just a second, but that’s still enough time for him to see the expression of complete agony and pure heartbreak on his best-friend’s face. Eddie looks away just as fast and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“But that’s not even the worst part, oh no.” Buck goes on and Eddie knows this one is on a roll. He’s determined and he won’t stop until he got everything off his chest. “ Because then this damn rig just collapsed and I- I couldn’t get you out, I- You were… You were buried, Eds. You were buried and I swear to god I would have dug the whole thing with my bare hands if I had to.”

“I know you would’ve.” Eddie only says, staring at Buck, his eyes filled with the tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past fifteen minutes. “I know you would’ve.”

“I didn’t give up on you.” Buck answers, as if he’s trying to justify his actions in a courtroom. “You’ve got to know that, alright?” He repeats. “I didn’t give up on you. Even when people were trying to convince me that there was no way you would have survived that, I didn’t- I didn’t give up on you.”

“Hey, hey, I know.” Eddie instantly reassures him, getting up and closing the gap between them. “I know.” He repeats, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands. “You didn’t give up.”

“I didn’t give up.” Buck nods, his lips quivering.

“Buck, do you think- do you think I’m mad at you because you didn’t try hard enough?” Eddie manages to articulate, his fingers playing with the roots of Buck’s hair. “How could you have tried any harder?” Eddie adds, letting out a nervous laugh. “For Christ’s sake Evan, you told me yourself you were ready to dig the whole thing by hands. There’s nothing you could have done. You hear me?”

Buck frantically nods and Eddie sighs, wrapping his right arm around his neck to pull him forward. Buck’s whole body tenses and it’s only when his shoulders start shaking that Eddie realizes his best-friend is full-on sobbing against him, his tears wetting his white tee-shirt. Buck rests his forehead on his shoulder and Eddie simply runs his left hand through his hair while the other traces small patterns on his back, holding him tight. He presses his lips on his hair, closing his eyes fiercely for a few seconds while throwing his head backwards, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.” Buck says against him. “Here I am again, making the whole thing about me while you’re the one who’ve been buried underground.”

“Don’t be stupid Buck, I’m the one who should apologize here. I was so focused on my pain and the nightmares that I-”

“Nightmares?” Buck whirls his head up to meet his eyes. “You have nightmares about the well?” He asks, his eyes full of concern, and Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah but that’s not the point, Buck.” He says, dismissing his concern with a hand’s gesture. “I should have seen you were hurting. I’m sorry.” He adds. “And yes I have nightmares but Buck you need to know you’re the only reason I got out. You and Christopher? I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Wouldn’t have done it. But I promised myself I’ll always find my way back home. So I did.”

Eddie cradles his chin with his left hand, forcing him to look up.

“That… That was sappy as hell, man.” Buck tries and Eddie snorts, placing his hand on his cheek to make him look away.

“Says the one who was ready to dig thirty feet of wet earth with his bare hands.” He says playfully and then Buck does this thing again where he looks down with a shy smile and Eddie’s heart just melts at the sight.

When Buck lifts his gaze again, their lips are only separated by a few inches of space and Eddie’s head is spinning. He stays there, motionless, not knowing whether he should finally gives in to years of pining and unresolved tension. But then, Buck’s eyes dart towards his lips and all his good sense goes up in smoke. Eddie looks at him for permission and when Buck nods, he places his hand on the back of his neck and presses their lips together. It doesn’t last long. It’s brief, and when Eddie takes a step back, Buck’s lips chase his own a second time and he only smiles and complies happily.

This time, the kiss is more heated and Buck’s hands find their way on the back of Eddie’s neck, biting his lower lip to demand access to his mouth. Eddie smiles against his mouth and runs both of his hands through his hair, bringing him closer. This earns him a small whimper from Buck and Eddie only kisses him harder, pressing his best-friend’s body against the fridge and sliding his hand underneath his tee-shirt.

“God I can’t believe we waited three years to do that.” Buck says Eddie huffs out a laugh against his lips.

“Well I mean you were a bit slow on the uptake.” Eddie teases him.

“Oh fuck off.” Buck taps him on the head playfully. “You know I couldn’t just- I had to be sure.”

“I know.” Eddie says, his voice soft.

“I couldn’t do the first move. I had to wait for… I had to wait for you to do it. Even if I knew that you- because I knew. Of course I knew. But-”

“Hey.” Eddie cuts him off by cupping his cheeks with his hands. “I know.” He repeats. “Alright then Evan. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Lead the way, Edmundo.”

“Not my name.” Eddie says with a smile, taking his hand in his to guide him towards the bedroom.

“Sorry. Eduardo.”

“Still not my name, man."

"Diaz?"

"That's it, you’re sleeping on the damn couch, Buckley.” Eddie warns but the smile on his face betrays him.

“Really? You would make me sleep on the couch? The guy who was ready to dig 30 feet of wet earth with his bare han-”

“Oh my god will you shut up?” Eddie whispers loudly, being careful not to wake up Christopher fast asleep in the adjoining room.

“Make me.” Buck says, a hint of amusement in his voice and Eddie?

Well Eddie wastes no time to crash their lips together another time.

#buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 #Eddie Begins #Evan Buckley #Eddie diaz #911 #buck x eddie

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devil-in-those-eyes · 3 years

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Joke Part 2- Mat Barzal

Okay, I really didn’t think there would many people who wanted a part two, but if it’s wanted, there might be a part three. I hope you guys enjoy.

Warnings: None? Maybe swearing? I wrote the first half months ago, so my memory if foggy.

“You’re leaving… already?” Jesse and Tito exclaimed together, not missing a beat as you slid you chair back from the brunch table and finishing the last bit of your coffee.

“Not all of us can laze around on Sunday’s.” You answered with a smile, pulling your coat on and grabbing your purse.

Everyone let out grunts and groans that sounded close to displease, but you shook your head and rolled your eyes. You waved goodbye to your friends and smiled at Jesse as he tilted his head back to grin at you as you passed but what, or who, caught your eye was sitting to his left.

Mat sat with his back leaned into the chair, looking the most relaxed out of everyone with one hand in his lap and the other around the black mug of coffee. Dressed in a dark grey sleeve and black jeans, he looked delicious with his hair getting more unruly as the days went on, leaving his scruff and giving you butterflies the whole time.

Mat looked up from his mug and at you, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You mumbled a goodbye, fighting to your cheeks from turning red and keeping a neutral smile on your face. You made your way out of the restaurant, ready to start running errands before you started your work week. New York was somewhat quiet, a small amount of people buzzing around and leisurely enjoying their Sunday.

“Y/N, wait up,” You heard behind you after you got a few steps away from the restaurant.

You turned in your boots to see Mat had just walked out the doors and walking towards you. Your heart clenched and pushed your hands into the pocket of your jacket, “what’s up?”

“I, uh, what are you doing Tuesday night?”

Your eyebrows pulled together, confused by his question as your head suddenly started whirling because was he asking you out? And if he was asking you out, what changed his mind?

“You should come to the game,” he cleared his throat, his hands fisting inside the front pocket of his black jeans. “I know Jesse has an extra ticket, figured it might as well go to you.”

Might as well. Almost like an afterthought, to keep the ticket from going to waste. Normally, you wouldn’t have picked up on his words like that but because you already felt inadequate compared to him and his women he chose to interact with, it was all you could focus on.

“Oh,” you breathed, struggling hard to shake off the disappointment you felt because for a split second you thought he wanted to hangout. “Um.”

“I just thought his ticket would go to waste,” Mat shrugged, playing it off sweet and innocent, as if he didn’t realize he was digging himself a deeper hole. “Jesse always talks about how much you like hockey.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and took a step back, watching his eyes go a little confused as he watched your feet step back. “Maybe,” you answered, giving a tight smile. “Have a good day, Barz.”

Have a good day, Barz?

How did Mat go from Maty, your knight and shinning armor one night, to being Barzy in a matter of less than twelve hours? Mat wasn’t entirely sure where he went wrong and for the next few days he kept going over Sunday morning, while trying to subtly stalk your Instagram. That Sunday morning was beautiful, he woke up with dusty cobwebs on his brain but the second he watched you walk into the restaurant in jeans and a comfy, oversized sweater, he was wide awake. You were quiet in your seat, chugging down coffee like a champ and keeping up with the twenty different conversations while catching Mat’s eyes every few minutes.

Mat thought maybe things changed between the two of you Saturday night, he could still feel your body pressed against his, your warm hands against his chest. The second your hand cupped his jaw, your eyes pleading to walk away, he felt his anger melt away. You were warm against his hot blooded body, calming him down before he realized just how angry that dude made him.

He really wanted you at the game Tuesday night, he wanted to see your face light up the second him and the boys hit the ice. How much Mat knew about you was because of Jesse, because his two best friends were in love with you and just rattled off facts. Mat knew about your job, who your top three hockey teams were (while taking deep pride that the Isles were your number one). He knew what music you liked and what you liked to do for fun. Mat paid more attention to you than you realized, but he had gone wrong somewhere, and he thought asking you to the game was his way of righting it. Except he faltered when you gave him a confused look and he fumbled over his words, feeling like a thirteen year old boy asking out his cooler and totally out of his league crush.

“Have you ever considered just… I don’t know, maybe asking Y/N out?” Tito asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm as he and Mat sat in the locker room after the game.

“You dick, I tried.” Mat answered, groaning. “It’s like she doesn’t even wanna give me the time of day.”

“Huh, wonder why.” Tito mumbled, but Mat definitely heard him and clenched his jaw. “Listen,” Tito lifted his head and cleared his throat, “Jess and I wanna get drinks, why don’t you just… steal her away?”

Mat stared at Tito, wondering if that would really work. He had no doubt that Jesse would be more than happy for Mat to take Y/N off his hands, considering Jesse mentioned them getting together every chance he got, but would Y/N really go off with him? She seemed distracted and distant two days ago. Mat wanted to reach out, something was drawing him to her and he just wanted to keep talking to her, but he didn’t have her number and didn’t want to deal with the way Jesse would look like a Cheshire cat when Mat asked for it. So, he settled for hoping that you’d show up to the game.

And to his shock, you did. It wasn’t like you haven’t been to games, because you’ve been to plenty to support Tito and the boys, but now Mat was one of the boys you were supporting and it made his heart flutter knowing that.

Tito and Mat walked out of the locker room, just after Matt and Sydney bid their goodbyes to Jesse and you. You looked cute, already bundled up for the early November snow in your tan pea coat already done up, your hands holding the New York Islanders knit pom hat that Jesse got for you not that long ago. Your smile was bright, but as you turned away from Matt and Sydney and locked eyes with Mat, it faltered and he noticed your hands start twisting the hat in a nervous habit.

“Great game, boys,” You breathed, smiling at them and welcoming Tito’s warm hug, patting his back and letting your hand fall on his tight stomach as he stood with his arm around your shoulders.

“You see that goal Barzy scored for you?” Tito asked, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking at you. Your heart stopped and your cheeks went pale instead of pink as he said, “Pretty hot, eh?”

Mat ran his fingers through his hair and you could have sworn his cheeks had gone pink, “Shut up, Tito.”

As Mat turned his eyes onto you, you quickly looked away just in time to see Jesse nod at Tito, “You ready to head to the bar?”

“Yes!” Tito exclaimed but you pushed against Tito’s side and his arm dropped from your shoulders.

“I made your asses food,” you looked away from Tito and at Jesse. “You told me they wanted to come over, asshole.”

Jesse rubbed the back of his neck but smirked before motioning to Mat, “Well, Barz doesn’t wanna come out, you two head back and enjoy the food.”

Your eyes shot to Mat and noticed how he looked like he wanted the world to swallow him up, he was avoiding your eyes and glaring at his two friends. Disappointment settled inside your chest because it was clear to you that he didn’t want to go anywhere with you, so as soon as the boys were out of ear shot, you’d let him off the hook.

You rolled your eyes and grumbled about how much you hated Jesse, turning on your heel and leaving the three boys. You had taken this way many times, so you knew the way to the car park where Jesse and the boys had parked and even though you were still annoyed at Jesse, you couldn’t help but join the conversation about the game.

Tito and Mat seemed to be on a high about the game and you were proud of them, as the three boys relived their goals and assists you couldn’t stop the smile on your face but that smile soon left when you reached the doors and stood outside by Jesse and Mat’s cars.

You sighed after you said your goodbyes to Jesse and Tito and grabbed out your phone, about to order and Uber, and when Tito and Jesse got into Jesse’s car you went to go speak to tell Mat he didn’t have to do anything with you but he beat you to it.

“So, what’d you make us for dinner?” Mat asked, still resting against the side of his car, his hands in the front pockets of his jacket.

“Uh, what?” You asked, lifting your head from your phone and looking at him. He was smirking, his hazel eyes looking dark under the night sky and it made your heart flutter because he still hadn’t gotten rid of the scruff and it grew. “Oh, no, Mat. You don’t have to come over.”

“I don’t?” He asked, tilting his head but still smirking.

“No, I mean, why would you?” You asked, huffing out a smile. “I’m gonna get an Uber, you can catch up to the boys and ride out on your high.”

Mat watched you for a hot second, licking hit bottom lip. “Nah, you’re not taking an Uber and I’m not going out tonight, I’m gonna hangout with you.”

“Mat,” you groaned as he unlocked his car and pulled the passenger side door open and he motioned for you to get in. You grimaced, “Mat, you don’t want to hangout with me. I know you don’t.”

Mat didn’t bother arguing with you. He just lowered his eyes, still smirking and pushed off of his car while unlocking it, “Get in the car, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupted deep inside you at the low grumble falling past his lips. You made your way to the passenger side of the car and got in his car, rubbing your hands together as he started his car and let it run for a few minutes.

The ride to your apartment was quiet other than music softly playing between the both of you, it was like the butterflies had paralyzed you and you forgot what it was like to act around a human being. You could barely remember the last time you felt this nervous around a guy and what was more annoying was how relaxed Mat looked as he sat in the drivers seat.

He had one hand on the steering wheel while propping his elbow up on the window sill, the other lightly resting on the gear shift. Every once in a while he rolled his head from side to side, keeping his eyes on the road, but a few times he had taken small glances at you.

How come Mat got to look so perfect while you felt like you were twisted in knots. It was like he was totally fine with spending his evening with you, like he wasn’t actually wishing he didn’t get stuck with you.

Which again, was a joke because there’s no way Mat was fine with Jesse and Tito finally shoving you onto him.

You fiddled with your keys once you reached your door and as you popped it open, you decided to give Mat one last chance to walk away. You turned in the middle of your doorway and sighed.

“Whaaat?” Mat asked, dragging the word out and almost making you smile with that boyish gleam in his eyes.

“Thank you for giving me a ride home, but seriously, you don’t have to hangout with me,” You answered, taking off the hat and pushing your hair off of your neck. “I know you’d rather be with your friends.”

“Y/N,” he said your name slowly and lifted his hand to the wall beside your door. As he leaned in closer, you could smell the cologne that had been teasing you the whole way home. “I’m getting the feeling that it’s you who doesn’t want to hangout with me.”

“What?” You asked, shaking your head. “It’s just,”

“Just, what?” He asked, cutting you off. He saw something in your face that he didn’t like because his eyes softened and he lost the joking smile on his mouth, “I actually want to be here with you, Y/N, but if you don’t want me to stay, then I won’t.”

You took a second to let his words sink in as you nibbled on your lower lip. Realizing that Mat might actually rather spend the high of his win with you, you found yourself murmuring, “So, you didn’t ask me to the game as an after thought?”

In that moment, Mat realized where he had gone wrong Sunday morning. Understanding filled his eyes and he tilted his head to the side. He slowly stepped towards you, dropping his hand from the wall and resting his shoulder against the doorjamb.

“Definitely not,” He murmured, his voice matching yours.

Your cheeks heated up and you lowered your eyes, trying to hide the way your cheeks filled with pink but Mat had seen it and found himself smiling softly.

“Chicken pasta sound good?” You asked.

“I’m starving,” Mat grinned and you backed away, letting him into your apartment.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl islanders #nhl imagine

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

Text

I saw my love walking down the aisle

So I don't think Robert would do this fresh out of prison, because he'll feel like he really doesn't deserve Aaron anymore, but let's just have fun because reality is boring.

(AO3 link)

"...if anyone has any objections to the marriage, please state them now."

Ben winked at him because who would? His family were almost giddy with happiness and he's sure if he turned round his Mum would be crying while trying to keep hold of Eve who had recently decided that being held was bad and tried to escape at every opportunity. Ben's family were all smiles when he'd met them earlier.

There was no one who was going to object to the marriage.

It was just a whisper and he thought he was imagining it, nerves getting the better of him, but then it got louder and then he heard footsteps on the ballroom floor, gasps following them.

"I do. I object." He'd known, from the first whisper, that voice would never be strange to him, he heard it in his dreams almost every night.

If he turns round he might not be there. Maybe he's dreaming now, perhaps that's what all of this is, just a dream and then he'll wake up back in his bed, familiar blonde hair tickling his chest as Robert fidgets in his sleep.

He couldn't be here, he just couldn't.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you're in the wrong place."

"Aaron." He almost smiles at the fact that Robert's clearly just ignoring Ben completely but then he remembers what's actually going on and he turns around, hands balling into fists.

"Why are you here?" He almost gasps because even though he's different, there's lines on his face that weren't there before, he's thinner, and his hair is a mess, but he's still Robert, the man he loves, the man he married. "I don't understand."

"They let me go."

It's like there's no one else in the room and it's only Ben's hand on his arm that drags him out of that fantasy.

"This is Robert?" The way he says his name sets his teeth on edge, a hint of disdain, like he's better than him. He just nods, eyes not leaving Robert's, can't get his brain to hang onto a single thought. "You need to go mate."

"I'm not your mate."

"Whatever. Me and Aaron are getting married."

"Well we'll see won't we."

He isn't fast enough to stop him, Ben's fist flying out, catching Robert's chin, and he comes round enough to drag him away before he can do any more damage. Robert, the bastard, just laughs and it makes him shiver. It's a laugh of someone who's been punched too often, that it just rolls off him now.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You're asking me that? He's the one bursting in on our wedding!"

He turns to look at him, still holding his chin, eyes dark but staring right at him. "If you tell me to go I will."

The silence goes on because he knows he should, Ben's been good to him and he likes him he does, and how will it look to everyone if he just runs off.

"Well? Are you going to tell him to go? Aaron?"

"I..." He should, he knows that, it's the right thing, they only end up hurting each other, but he can't find the words.

"He left you, he threw what you had away and then he cut you off, divorced you without a word. Where was he when Liv was struggling? When you needed someone? He was nowhere. I was there, I was the one helping you."

"I know." Another look at Robert sees him looking ashamed, and it kills him. "Can you just...I need a minute." Ben looks furious but he nods. He daren't look at his Mum, probably the only thing holding her back is Cain because he can't believe she hasn't tried to bundle Robert out all on her own. "Come on."

Robert follows him, leaving a buzz of noise behind him. He finds an empty room along the corridor, slamming the door shut behind them.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Stopping you from making a mistake."

"What would you know about it? You don't know anything about my life anymore. That was your choice! You can't just come in here and...how did you know about it anyway?"

"Vic. She doesn't know I'm here, she would've killed me. I heard her and Diane talking this morning." He'd invited her, and Diane, feeling weird about it but he'd known them both long before Robert, but a couple of days before they'd both cried off, telling him Harry wasn't well, which was obviously a lie. "So, Ben seems..."

"Don't."

"Boring. Or maybe he just makes a bad impression?" Of course he can't help himself. At least he's not half cut this time, and singing badly. "All of this was his idea I suppose?"

"Robert just shut up! You don't know anything!"

"I know you. I know that fancy hotels, tons of guests and I'm guessing tiny little canapés aren't you. I know that when you're happy, truly happy you can see it in your eyes. They shine and they're an even deeper blue than normal."

"I love him." It sounds fake even to him and he doesn't know why he's bothering.

"Do you? Honestly?"

"That's none of your business." He can't help himself, reaches out to touch the bruise on his chin, already angry and red. "You idiot."

"I've had worse."

"Don't." He doesn't want to think about it, can't let him in because if he does, that'll be it. "How are you even here?"

"I got out on appeal." He's staring out of the window now, but Aaron knows he's not here anymore, he's back there. "Some solicitor friend of Vic's wrote to me. Seems like Luke had a fight with his brother the same day I hit him. He said it was a really small chance but he owed her...found someone who said it couldn't be proved which blow actually killed him." He can barely take it in, will ask him more later, his mind still catching up with itself.

"Did Vic know?" Robert nods. "When?"

"I called her the day of the hearing. A week ago."

"You've been out a week? And you didn't tell me?"

"She said...well I wanted you to move on didn't I? Live your life. When she told me I accepted it, I did, but when I woke up this morning I couldn't just let you go without giving it one more try. Was going to try and find out but then I heard her." Aaron sinks onto the arm of a chair, overwhelmed with anger, at Luke, at Vic for not telling him, and relief that Robert was out, not in that place anymore. "I meant what I said, if you tell me to go I will."

"You'd let me marry him?"

"I'd let you be happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you. I would've done anything for that to happen." He comes back over, sits in front of him. "I mean it, if you really are happy with him, if there's no way you and me can ever happen then I'll go, I'll move away, whatever you want."

"You'd leave your family, for me?"

"I...I don't think I can stand seeing you and him. Vic would understand."

There's no question, he knows that, has known it ever since he'd heard Robert's voice. Ben's right, he has been there, has helped him, but if he's truly honest with himself there's always been this feeling of guilt, or an obligation, like he should be grateful that Ben's interested after everything. He'd thought it was just reluctance on his part after Robert, but now he knows different.

"You'd really let me go?"

"If it's what you want, yeah." He looks stricken at the thought however much he tries to hide it.

"I want you." He whispers after what feels like ages. "I've always wanted you, even when I was hating you."

"Yeah?" It's a whisper and it has him on his feet, holding onto Robert for dear life, for whatever's happened to him inside. He's never letting go again.

"What did you tell me once? It's you and me, always has been, always will be."

"You remember that?" The look of embarrassment on his face makes Aaron smile because it really wasn't one of his finest moments. Despite that it was probably one of Aaron's favourite moments because even though they were broken up and Robert was making a holy show of himself, the words had meant everything to him.

"Vividly." Robert laughs and then he's kissing him and not stopping until there's a quiet knock on the door, then Cain's poking his head round the door.

"Right then. I guess that answers everyone's question." Robert's laughing against his shoulder and he slaps a hand against his arm to shut him up. "Your Mum is about to storm in here so..."

"I suppose I should talk to Ben." He really didn't want to, didn't want to face him because he was the one at fault wasn't he, for going this far when he'd known deep down it wasn't what he wanted, but then he'd thought he couldn't have what he wanted.

"He, uh...he left." Cain look uncomfortable, scratching his chin and looking back out the door.

"Oh. Right, well...I best explain to everyone else then."

"There's just our lot, and well most of us knew the minute that lump turned up."

"Cheers Cain., nice to see you too."

"You hurt him again and they'll not find a trace of ya, got that."

"I won't." With that Cain goes and the two of them fall into hysterical laughter.

"So, what now?"

"Well...I'm guessing Mill is full of all his stuff?" Aaron nods. "Vic's is full of...well Vic, and I can't help noticing that we're in a very fancy hotel."

"Very fancy. Very pricey. Especially the honeymoon suite." He's smiling though.

"I do like a good hotel if you remember." He shakes his head at him. They need to talk, they're not fixed just because of this and he knows Robert's putting on a front, but right now he doesn't care. He just wants Robert.

"Be rude to let it go to waste then, wouldn't it?"

#idk what this is #but i really want robert bursting into their wedding #robron fic #ben tucker #but he doesn't hang around long

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zhowongli · 4 years

Text

neon lights (in a world gray)

notes: tried some msby interactions but i’m bad at writing a lot of characters so they may be a little flat. some underage drinking, fwb, & drunk texting. i’m v bad at humor but i tried. song accompaniment recommendation: million days by sabai x hoang & let’s not fall in love by big bang! also posted on ao3.

summary: sunday mornings and midnight lights turn into songs that you watch me write. AU where you share extreme feelings with your soulmate. - atsumu/oc

wc: 10.7k (v sorry)

Your body is first to know your soulmate. The way your heart beats faster in exhilaration, your muscles burn in soreness, your body demands for food and sleep even though you are not doing anything in particular, hits you on more days than others. There’s always this constant feeling before a particular day, where you feel all these things plus a sense of hunger for something, anger and frustration, and accomplishment. Sometimes, these sudden days end in a panging ache in your heart, but usually, there’s always a sense of elation after these moments.

You are often left to wonder what kind of person your soulmate is. It makes your days a little more fun from the way he feels this sense of euphoria from doing such physical activities, from the soreness of your calves and the dull ache of your hand and wrists, from the sense of successfulness after, because he always feels so passionate about it. You wonder if sharing his passion for doing whatever he’s doing, for life, feeds into your thirst for adventure.

Your life is pretty boring and at an impasse, and while you don’t particularly mind it all that much since it has served you well thus far, you always want something more. You suppose this is why you’ve always liked chasing the thrill. You like feeling the adrenaline in your blood and the accelerated thumping of your heart because it makes you feel so alive. Doing things that you aren’t supposed to be doing is a sort of fun that you like to have because there’s something just so riveting, and it keeps calling you back.

You have a bucket list of things you’d like to try before you die because you want to involve yourself in things that bring you happiness, to do something that fills the hole in your heart, however temporary that may be. There are already some small things on there that are already checked off: skipping class, getting a belly button piercing behind your parents’ backs, trying a sip of alcohol. As you keep fulfilling the little things, you end up always adding more back onto the list. You like to turn these little gratifications into memories by weaving your emotions into words, words, words on paper, and before long, you have an accumulation of untold stories written in secret.

But there’s always one thing you have at the bottom of the list that you’re not sure if you could ever check off, ever write about: falling in love and being loved in return.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

You first feel a gnawing pain in your heart at the end of your third year of high school. At first, you think it is you who is experiencing this pain, but then a sense of fury settles in. Your soulmate is angry, you think as you put a hand over your heart, and you begin taking deep breaths as you lay down on the rooftop just to feel breezy spring winds in your hair and on your skin. You know your emotions are interconnected, so you suppose you are trying to help calm his tremulant heart in your own way.

Breathing in the chilling air as it blows the ends of your hair and flutters the ruffles of your skirt, you find yourself feeling more at peace before, anger diminishing. You’re not sure if it helps, but at least it makes you feel like you’re being helpful. Then, a sense of sharp betrayal and waves of sadness hits you. Your soulmate feels betrayed and hurt, and it makes you feel a sense of unsettlement in your heart. Your initial thought is that you want to help to ease his pain, but you think if he feels so intensely about it, it isn’t your place to try to override his emotions. So, you close your eyes as you lay on the rooftop, hands clasped together as if you’re holding his hand, and hope he feels your presence alongside him as a sort of moral support as he goes through whatever is happening.

Before long, his emotions leave you, and you’re glad at least he isn’t feeling as sad and betrayed when his emotions first flare in your soul. You smile, and you decide to skip class for the rest of the day, mind never too far from wandering what your soulmate is like.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

You haven’t felt much from your soulmate since then. There are days when the exhaustion in your body hits you harder than normal, but at this point, that has become a part of your daily routine. Sometimes, you feel the occasional intense, lasting embarrassment, and you end up feeling embarrassed and heat rushes to your cheeks. You think your soulmate may be an idiot at times like these, to be honest. But you become less focused on him and more focused on you and your bucket list as time goes by because his emotions just become a part of you.

You are about to start university when you first meet your roommate at a party some upperclassman invites you to. She is a mess, you think, as she stumbles in the bathroom, tears stain on her face and alcohol in her breath. You’re probably not in much better shape. Your head is a little dazed, and you feel a little extra empty on the inside right now because you feel like you have nothing. She wails loudly when she sees you, and you open your arms to hold her.

“I hate him!” she sobs and whimpers into your shoulder. “Why do I love him? Why doesn’t he love me?”

You can only rub small circles on her back and press soft kisses in her hair. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t have how it feels because I don’t know how to love.”

You think you don’t want to love after seeing this poor girl.

“But what’s the point of love if it doesn’t consume you?” she breathes out in between sobs, the scent of alcohol hitting your nose with each breath.

You hmm in agreement because you think you’d like to lose yourself in something so passionate, so intense that it fills your soul, but you don’t say anything more.

Somehow, in between drunken conversations, you two end up becoming roommates. The two of you are more similar than you initially thought: both of you are empty on the inside, for different reasons of course, but that makes you two get along so well.

Her words still echo sometimes in your head as you two go on in your daily lives: you with your volunteering at the animal shelter to distract yourself from reality and her with her morning runs to run away from her problems.

What is the point of love if it doesn’t consume you?

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

Your roommate has a bad habit of going out and home with someone whenever she feels extra hung up on her soulmate. You know this because although the two of you don’t say it outright, your habits rub off on each other. Of course, this means you two have fakes and often end up hitting up parties and clubs dressing a little extra provocative to fill up the hole inside your hearts. She just wants someone to want her, to hold her like she’s not broken, like that’s her soulmate holding her; you just want someone to bring some fun and thrill in your life.

You’re not sure how you ended up here. You remember the dim lights and the loud music; you remember dancing with your roommate and wanting someone to go home with after she leaves with some blond guy. You suppose your brain is a little buzzed from the alcohol, but you still vaguely remember feeling someone grinding against your body as you continue to dance. You turn to the stranger who moves so in tune with your stumbling beat, and you find yourself looking at blond hair and black undercut, darkened hooded eyes, and a small drunken smirk on his face.

You vaguely remember staring at his lips and slurring some flirtatious words, and before you know it, you two are out of the club, hands on each other, and lips barely apart. The soft, loving voice of your mother briefly echoes in your head - “Don’t be with someone who doesn’t love you.” But her voice drowns out the moment your desirous eyes and eager lips meet his, and you don’t think you’ll ever regret this. You love the feeling of his lips roughly on yours, like he’s hungry for something, for more. His roaming hands leave a trail of fire with each touch, and you cannot tell if your heart is beating in exhilaration because of you or your soulmate. Whatever, you think to yourself, you don’t care right now because all you can think about is how good it feels to be held by him.

Your back is pushed against the cold wall of the alleyway beside the club, and this coldness strikingly contrasts with the heated kisses and fiery touches of his hands and momentarily clears your mind.

“My apartment is close by,” you mutter in between kisses.

He nods, and you only remember the way back in glimpses between frantic kisses with your hands in his hair and his hands slipping under your short dress, hot breaths between your lips as you continuously find your way back to his, as if you need him, as if he is air.

You don’t even make it to your room before he hoists you up and your legs reactively wrap around his waist. Your hands are back in his hair before you begin raking your nails softly against his back. His hands are slightly colder from being outside but each touch sends a lingering, blazing shiver down your spine. Before you know it, your clothes are thrown off along the hallway to your room.

With half-lidded eyes, you see the blinking starlight through your window blinds, almost as if it’s twinkling in disappointment. But you don’t have the heart to care when he’s leaving trails of fire along your body and your nails are digging lines of raw pink all over his back.

You hope your soulmate somewhere out there also feels the thrills, the excitement, the passion you are feeling right now.

You feel so alive.

When you wake up the next morning, he is gone. If it isn’t for your scattered clothes along the hallway and marks all over your body, it would have been like he was never here in the first place. You are not surprised, but you are not sure if the disappointment you feel in your heart is from you or your soulmate.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

Funnily enough, you see him again at the next club party you go to. You are just dancing the night away, a little drunk on alcohol and high on emotions, when your body meets his again.

“Wanta get outta here?” he asks over the loud music as his hands are on your waist and yours are around his neck.

“Okay,” you nod and pull him out of the club, stumbling upon the same steps to your apartment, and remembering it happening in the exact same way as last time.

And exactly like last time, he is long gone by the time you wake up, leaving you to feel the same disappointment in your heart.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

It’s always a good time with him. He is fun, passionate, and it is a little thrilling that he is just some random stranger. But you’re not sure if you can still call him a stranger when this happens for the third time.

“If you just wanted to see me, you could have just called,” you laugh in his ear, hands playing with the hem of his shirt as his ghosts over your thighs.

He looks a little dumbfounded before he joins your laughter and gives you a roguish smirk. “Sorry, my phone’s broken. It didn’t have your number in it.”

You could only stare at him blankly. His sly smile falls off under your unmoving eyes, and he begins to chuckle nervously in embarrassment. You’re not sure if you’re embarrassed because that is lowkey cringe or if your soulmate out there is in another bout of doing something embarrassing, but you laugh softly.

“That was bad,” you admit in between laughs and holds your hand out for his phone, “But here. Let me fix that.”

You see the relief on his face, and the embarrassment you feel in your heart feels subside. He’s interesting, you think, because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

Whatever mood there was before is gone, but you still end up leaving with him after a quick kiss becomes two, three, numberless because it feels like you can’t ever get enough of him. The two of you make your way back to your apartment once again, much like your previous encounters.

However, when you wake up in the morning, you are surprised to find him still next to you. His eyes are closed, but you can tell he’s awake through his twitching eyelids and uneven breathing. He probably missed his chance to leave, you think, and you debated on whether you should spare him the awkwardness and pretend to continue sleeping or to wake up and continue from last night because you’re not quite ready to go back to feeling empty again. You’re a little selfish because you decide that your escape from reality is a little more important to you than his awkwardness.

“Hey,” you sit up slowly to not irritate your pounding head, blanket pooling around your legs, “Wanna join me in the shower?”

You don’t even have to look back as you hear the ruffles of the blanket and feel his arms around your waist.

You are drying your hair with a towel when your eyes trail to his form. His blond hair is still a little flat from being damp and there are still droplets of water on his body when he begins putting on his discarded clothes, and you have to remind yourself to breathe because he knocks the air out of your lungs. He is attractive, and you’re not easily impressed, but there’s just something about him that makes your heart flutter and squeeze excitingly.

But it’s also a little unsettling when you see him in your room in the daylight. Your room is a collection of books, papers and ink, and coffee mugs, and seeing him here with his blond hair, broad shoulders, and smile that’s brighter than the sun is startling because he contrasts so much from your monochrome room. This is the first time you’ve seen him when you’re both completely sober, without the haze of alcohol and the darkness of the night. It’s almost like you’re exposing a part of your life that’s previously only set to nights only. It suddenly hits you that you still don’t even know his name even though you know his body as well as your own by now.

Almost as if he feels your unsettling heart, he turns to question you, “Ya good?”

You nod only because you’re not about to open up to the guy you’ve slept with three times but still don’t know the name of. “I’m fine.”

He looks at you pointedly, but he ruffles his blond hair and doesn’t push it. “Okay, I’ll see ya later?”

You hmm in agreement and laugh, “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

Contrary to your statement, you don’t see him soon. He’s not at any of the parties you subsequently go to. He never texted you after you put your number in his phone, so you figured he was just here for a good time, not a long time. Knowing this doesn’t help the tightness in your chest when you think about him.

Somehow, you think you finally understand why your roommate only has eyes for guys with long, bleached blond hair because you find that you are naturally attracted to guys who resemble him. You almost end up going home once with a different blond guy when you don’t see him, but you don’t feel the same excitement from his touch so you just left.

You begin to wonder since when did your eyes always look for signs for a tall blond with a lazy smile and addictive kisses. You wonder since when did your body only react so intensely when it comes to his touch. You wonder since when did your soul only feel so vibrant when you are with him.

You wonder if your soulmate out there feels the same too because you’re not getting such vivid liveliness from him these days. You still feel the adrenaline in your blood, the dull aches of your arms and hands, and the usual exhilaration after certain days. However, there’s a sense of lingering mundaneness too. It’s a little funny if you think about it because it’s almost like your soulmate is here with you, feeling the exact same feelings as you.

He’s the one who approaches you first when you see him again months later. It’s the same old story: you’re at the club with your roommate, though she’s coming with you less and less, and you’re just having fun on the dance floor when he appears. When his hand touches you again for the first time, you feel that same electricity, the same intensity that only he draws out.

“Hey,” he smirks, “Ya look good, as always.”

“Hey yourself,” you smile flirtatiously back at him, “You look alright too, I guess.”

His mouth drops and his eyebrows furrowed together like he’s offended at your comment, but you don’t feel that bad since his expression is rather hilarious.

“I missed ya,” he continues, ignoring your previous comment like it doesn’t hurt his ego.

“And I missed you too,” you smile a little more genuinely now.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you are touching, kissing, and leaving together again. It’s always more fun when he’s around, you think to yourself before you lose yourself in him.

For the first time, you two are talking in your bed, still naked, instead of sleeping after being too spent for another round. He’s a little closed off, you think, regarding his personal life, and he’s somewhat reserved and awkward at first. When the topic of careers comes up, his eyes light up under the dim lights and he tells you he’s a volleyball player in Osaka and he’s only in Tokyo for random occasions.

Ah, this explains the long absence.

You listen to him as he passionately talks about the sport, his Kansai accent slipping out more and more as he talks. You can just hear how much he loves it and the silent message of how little room he has in his life for anything else.

You tell him you don’t have anything you’re passionate about. He is confused by your statement like he’s surprised that there’s someone with no passions in life, like he’s almost offended that you have no passion in life. You only shrug and continue to tell him you volunteer at the animal shelter, and you write occasionally sometimes because it is your major.

“Really? Ya seem to be someone with a lot of passion for life just from the way ya kiss,” he comments offhandedly as he rolls to his side towards you and props his body up on his elbows, eyes looking into yours.

It takes you by surprise because no one has ever told you anything like that. “You think so?” you ask as your eyes meet his. You tug softly on his arm to pull him towards you, and when he lays back down and wraps an arm around you, you absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair.

He hums in agreement as he relaxes into your touch. There’s a sense of domesticity in this situation that makes you feel both scared and comfortable. You haven’t experienced this sort of intimacy with anyone else, where you are just talking about life still naked after fucking, and it’s scary because it’s so unknown. But there’s just something about being with him that feels so at home, like he’s supposed to be relaxing in your touch as you play with his hair, like he’s supposed to believe in you and inspire you to chase your passions, like he’s supposed to be here with you. Your heart flutters as the conversations continue through the night. You try not to think about it because maybe your soulmate has suspiciously crazy good timing and is the one with the pulsing heart.

The two of you fall asleep only when dawn comes and the first rays of the sunlight hit peek through the blinds. Unlike the stars that seemingly twinkle in disappointment, the soft lights look gentle, hopeful, positive, in a way you haven’t thought of in years. When you see his sleeping face, his mouth is slightly gaped open and his limbs are taking up all the bed space, you find that it’s a little endearing.

Your heart flutters again, and this time, you don’t fight the fact that you know it’s you and your dumb heart, not your soulmate’s, that’s animatedly beating like this.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

“I said sign me the fuck up, not assign me the fuck up,” you groan into your hands. The forming headache from earlier exacerbates into throbbing pains of a migraine.

Your roommate just pitifully pats your head before she just says, “Unlucky. How’s he even a fuck up? Isn’t he like, on his way to becoming a professional volleyball player?”

“Well, okay, he’s not really like a fuck up. But yeah, basically, he only cares about, like, one thing and one thing only: volleyball,” you continue to whine as you bury your face in your arms. “God, I knew blond guys with poor dye jobs were a bad idea.”

“No,” your roommate rebuttals, probably because her now not-boyfriend-but-basically-boyfriend’s black roots are showing and he definitely needs a retouch on that blond soon, “Being friends with benefits was. You’ll always end up catching feels, babe.”

Your roommate’s words from forever ago echo in your head - “What’s the point of love if it doesn’t consume you?”

“Ughhhhh,” you groan again, purposely dragging out the sound to express your exasperation. You hate that she’s right. You hate that you kind of had an idea this was going to happen. You hate that your stupid fuck buddy is so stupidly hot, and he makes you feel so alive .

“So what are you going to do now?” your roommate questions as she pulls your head out of your hands and into her lap, fingers softly playing with your hair and soothing the tension from your headache.

You pause for a moment as you move your arm to shield your eyes from the light before you answer truthfully, “I don’t know. It’s kinda… scary.”

She hmms in agreement. “It is. But isn’t it better to just fall? He doesn’t seem like the type to let you fall.”

“I don’t know,” you mutter weakly again, “I never know with him. He’s driven by things he’s passionate about, and he’s always either giving his 0% or 120% into whatever he loves, like volleyball. I’m just a booty call. I’m scared to be 0%.”

“Babe, I don’t think you’re 0% if he’s still hitting you up every single time he’s in Tokyo.”

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

He texts you first. It comes at an unexpected moment for you because your soulmate is going through a series of accelerated palpitations and a sense of hesitance that makes even your palms sweat, and when it arrives, this nervous energy doesn’t leave you. You feel a little anxious, but you’re not sure if that’s because your soulmate is so jittery right now or if you are scared to open his text.

When you finally open it, you forget how to breathe for a moment. If you were confused about whose beating heart and jitteriness it was before, you were definitely unsure now. Your racing heart adds onto this tension right now, and you make sure to read it twice, thrice, before you exhale softly.

In hindsight, it’s not even a special message, but when you think about how this could complicate things, how this will change from being just whatever you guys are right now to being something more, your heart flutters a little more.

“wanna come to my volleyball game?”

You force yourself to take a deep breath, repeating the words inhale and exhale in your mind like a mantra before you respond with a simple “sure.”

The instant relief you feel in your heart comes quicker than a ray of light. Once again, you are unsure whether that relief is coming from your soulmate or you, but either way, you are just glad you can breathe again.

You try to not think about the giddiness in your heart and the matching smile on your face.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

“Bro, what the fuck do I wear to a volleyball game?” you cry out in frustration as all you look through all the clothes you dug out from your closet.

Your roommate walks through your door, “Dude, what the fuck?” She makes a disgusted face as she walks into your room, picking up pieces of clothing along the way, “You’re just going to a volleyball game, just wear something comfy and cute.”

You let out a strange noise before you plant your face into the small mountain of clothing you accumulated. Your roommate sighs before you hear some ruffling and feel a light tap on your head.

“Here, wear this,” she offers. “You’re thinking too hard about it. Just have fun!”

You take the clothes out of her hand and let out another noise. Your roommate only laughs at you before she pats your head, “Okay, go on. Don’t want you to be late for your date!”

A feral noise comes out of your mouth as you try to hide your embarrassment. “It’s not a date!”

She laughs again and before you can yell at her, your phone lights up. Your eyes naturally trail to the blue light of your phone, and you see a text message from him. You quickly open the text, and your face heats up a bit when you see a picture of him in his black jersey, flashing a peace sign with a lazy smirk. He is almost handsome enough to distract you from the cringe caption that comes along the picture.

“hope ur ready to see me smack that ball like i smack ur ass ;)”

You snicker because oh my god he’s so embarrassing . Your fingers automatically type a quick response.

“yikes. hope you smack it harder than you smack my ass bc it ain’t going over the net otherwise :p”

In milliseconds, you receive a short “what!!!! :(“ in return, and you burst out laughing.

All the worries of what to wear and the tension in your body dissipates as the sound of your laughter rings in the room. From the corner of your eye, you see the small journal you kept in high school with the list of things you’d like to accomplish in life. Remembering the last item of the list to check off, to fall in love and be loved in return, you scoff softly to yourself. There’s a sense of acceptance and sereneness as you admit that you can check off the first part now because you are undeniably falling in love with this idiot.

However, minutes later, your face heats up because you feel so embarrassed. It almost feels like your soul is leaving your body because you just wanted to be swallowed up by the earth. You could only hope your soulmate is okay.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

To be honest, you’ve never gone to a volleyball game before, but the rush of emotions and energy in the area fills you up. It brings you a sense of passion, intensity, and you take in this moment and capture it in your mind. You mentally make a note to incorporate this feeling into the new piece you’re writing.

The actual game goes by in a blur, partially because you don’t know what’s going on but also because the heat, the rush just draws you into the moment and you are hyper-aware of all the movements in the court. As Atsumu goes up to serve, you see his brown eyes scan the crowd, and when he spots you, he smirks and points a finger at you as if he’s saying this serve is for you.

The crowd goes wild by his gesture, and the teenage girls sitting in front of you, the middle-aged man sitting behind you, and the grandma next to you all squeal and argue half-heartedly who he is pointing to. You only laugh, hoping he is too far away to spot your heated cheeks, before you flash him a quick thumbs-up, hoping he’ll catch it before he focuses on the game again.

He puts too much power into his spike and misses his serve, and his face is comically dejected so you laugh quietly under your breath because he just missed the serve he dedicated for you. You see his teammates go up to him, the one with the black and white hair slapping his back with a hearty laugh and the one with orange hair bouncing to him to make a joke. Only then, you feel a pang of embarrassment in your heart, and you wonder if this is what Atsumu feels at the moment. You are beginning to craft up a ludicrous theory that he’s your soulmate because somehow, your soulmate always has impeccable timing attune to your emotions and what’s happening around you.

The rest of the game goes by in a swoosh. There is a combination of bam, whoosh, and wham, and there is a boing here and there. It becomes more BAM and sploosh after the player with the black and white hair keeps scoring points, and this seems to fire up the orange-colored hair player and Atsumu even more. The colored hair trio continues to score points, almost as if they are feeding off each other’s energy and trying to one-up one another. Though the latter is more like Atsumu trying not to be outshined by his teammates, you laugh to yourself.

They end up playing three sets and win the game. You are honestly amazed because you can barely keep up watching. Now, you have a newfound admiration for Atsumu. The cheers in the stadium are loud, deafening, but all that drowns out when you see Atsumu’s genuine smile. He looks so excited, happy, and your heart beats in exhilaration. Your eyes meet, and you flash him a bright smile because you cannot contain the energy in this arena, his happiness, and the exhilaration in your heart within you. For a moment, his smile drops and he only gawks at you before his two teammates from earlier slap his back again, causing him to bend over from the force. His eyes only leave yours then, but it seems like his two teammates are curious about what he is looking at. Following his gaze, you now find yourself looking at 2 additional pairs of eyes, and suddenly you feel a little shy. You give a small wave, and they wave back boisterously before they begin to exclaim something to Atsumu before you feel a new sense of embarrassment in your heart again.

The crowd thins out as Atsumu and his teammates make their way towards you. You suspect that this is more so because you’re next to the exit than anything, but they all stop to greet you with knowing smiles on their faces. You try to take it at face value and not think too much into the meaning behind their smiles. The two that introduce themselves as Tomas Adriah and Barnes Oriver leave after a wave. Shortly after a pleasant conversation, the ones named Meian Shuugo and Inunaki Shion follow suit. This leaves you with the colored hair trio, who is currently arguing and strangely reminds you of the three stooges, and a player with wavy black hair and two moles on the right side of his forehead. He’s beautiful even with his mask on if you’re honest, and his calmness feels like a breath of fresh air here.

You hold out a hand to introduce yourself, but before you can say anything, you see him squeeze some hand sanitizer into your palms. You blink twice before you mutter a soft thank you and rub your hands together. A little peculiar, but you appreciate the value of cleanliness. After your hands are clean, you try the introductions again. This time, he introduces himself as Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Your hands are still connected when Atsumu swings an arm around Sakusa, breaking off your handshake. You see the disgruntled look on Sakusa’s face as you catch Atsumu’s eyes fleetingly before he turns to talk to Sakusa loudly about something. Just then, you see orange hair bouncing to you, and within seconds, you find sparkling brown eyes staring at you.

“Hi!! I’m Hinata!!” He greets you eagerly.

Before you could reply, the taller player with black and white hair pushes Hinata down, his sparkling golden eyes that match Hinata’s in excitement, and he loudly introduces himself. “Hey hey hey!! I’m Bokuto!!”

You could only introduce yourself briefly before they start talking again.

“You must be the girl Tsumtsum talks about!! Did you know he tripped before the game started today, and he was soooo embarrassed??” Bokuto starts playfully as he leans closer. He is so tall and muscular, and you feel so small in comparison.

“Yeah!! You must be the reason why he tried so hard to look cool serving today!” Hinata merrily adds as he leans in closer too, laughing at the expense of Atsumu.

Atsumu’s “Hey!! Shut up!!” could be heard softly in the background as they continue. Your mouth only drops a little bit. You try to chalk your shock up to the fact that they still have so much energy despite just playing three sets of a difficult game, and not because they are telling you things you’re not sure if you’re supposed to know. After all, this gives you a sense of hope that you may not be 0%.

“Well, too bad he still missed those serves…” you inject teasingly.

At that, Hinata and Bokuto burst out laughing, and you join in their contagious laughter before Atsumu leaves Sakusa and whacks his teammates softly before the three of them begin bickering lightheartedly.

“You guys are both terrible and embarrassing. Goodbye,” Sakusa sighs as he makes his way out of the stadium.

You meet Sakusa’s eyes as he leaves, and you nod in agreement. He gives you a nod in return, and you think you discover a newfound sense of comradery with Sakusa.

The trio waves goodbye to Sakusa before going back to bickering. You can hardly keep up with the energy, but it’s so fun. You catch Hinata saying something about how Atsumu is failing at all his attempts to be cool and how Atsumu is furiously denying it because he’s naturally born cool. When you guys finally part ways, you pretend not to see Bokuto and Hinata’s attempt at wiggling their eyebrows and flashing conspicuous smiles at Atsumu.

“Ignore them” is the first thing he says after he flips them off and turns to you. You only hum in acknowledgment, laughter bubbling up.

“They’re fun,” you offer with a small laugh.

“They’re scrubs, but I guess they’re kind of okay sometimes,” he huffs.

“You guys are cute,” you coo teasingly, “Are you what they call… a tsundere?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles with flushed cheeks.

You pat his arm softly as you laugh. “You did great today, by the way. It was all bam and whoosh and wham!! I can see why you like volleyball so much now.”

His face scrunches up at your description of the match, but his brown eyes light up nevertheless. He begins to zealously talk about the game. While you are listening to him, all you can think about is how he outshines the twinkling stars and how beautiful he looks in his messy hair and sweaty jersey.

“Are you listening to me?” he pouts when he finds you not very responsive.

“I am,” you reply half-heartedly, still a little too taken with him.

“Then, what did I just say?” he questions dubiously, one eyebrow raised.

“How you missed your first serve and definitely did not smack that ball as hard as you smack my ass,” you poke fun at him.

His face falls almost comically, but you can’t help yourself from laughing because he’s just so fun to tease.

“I’ll show you how hard I can smack that ass alright,” he grins with a smug look on his face as he pretends that your last comment didn’t hurt.

You tug on the collar of his jacket before you pull him into a kiss. “I suppose I can indulge my winner tonight,” you mutter with a sly smile.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

Pillow talk becomes something that’s happening more and more often between the two of you, and you’re not sure what to make of it. He is the type of person who is independent, and you kind of get the idea that he is a little awkward around his feelings despite his front. It’s nice, you think, because he is opening up more and more to you. He is still relatively drawn back, but he is slowly letting you in, and it makes your heart flutter in hope.

Much like the nth times before, you two are talking about such mundane things that shouldn’t make your heart wild, but it does. He tells you about his twin brother and how they used to play volleyball together, how betrayed and hurt he felt at the end of high school when his twin decided to pursue a different career than volleyball. Your mind briefly wanders back to laying on the rooftop, feeling the wind in your hair, and holding your hand like you’re trying to hold your soulmate’s as he falls apart. He tells you about his previous teammates and how they still keep in touch and try to schedule yearly hangouts. He tells you about his dreams and how he will play for the Japanese national team one day.

His speech is always so animated and passionate, and you look at him with admiration in your eyes. You share bits and pieces about your life because it’s only fair he gets to know you when you know so much about him. There’s not much to say about yourself because you feel so boring, so you opt to talk about the stories inside your head.

You scrunch your eyebrows together, trying to condense the storyline to not spoil him, as you tell him about the historical fantasy piece you’re writing. You tell him about the characters, their backstories, and the worlds you’ve crafted for them, explaining each one and their feelings with wild gestures of your hands. You tell him about the short and arguably bad poems you write sometimes for a change of pace and will never show anyone because it’s so embarrassing. You tell him quietly about the unfinished story of a girl who checks things off a to-do list because she feels like she has nothing and is on a journey to find something, anything.

“How does that one end?” he asks eagerly.

When you look at him after you describe your life, your heart thumps loudly and wildly and you almost forget how to breathe because out of all the stories he takes interest in, he picks the one about you. He’s looking at you with so much curiosity and affection in his eyes. There’s something more there, but you’re scared to think it is what you think it is.

You wonder if that’s how you look at him.

“I don’t know,” you finally breathe out, “I’ll let you know one day when I know.”

He hmph softly, like a child who doesn’t get the answer he wants. “Will ya read it to me then?”

You pause because this implies that he’ll be around, he’ll be here to find out how your story unfolds. You want that so, so badly, but you settle for a quiet, “Maybe.”

He seems to be pleased enough with your answer. His hand is playing with yours, and you find that he is gradually becoming more and more touchy as time goes on. There’s a crease in his brows that makes you wonder what he’s thinking so hard about. There is an unspoken tension between the two of you, and you’re not sure if you want to break it. What you guys have right now is fragile, and you’re scared that if you say anything it will shatter. You don’t think he wants to address this either because he just doesn’t seem to have the time or will to commit to anything with you. You are okay with this, you think, because it is what you expected, but it still sends a pang to your heart.

Surprisingly, he does address this though. He always wears his emotions on his sleeve and his every reaction is always on his face, and it makes you appreciate him because he is always surprisingly honest, albeit blunt sometimes.

“I like ya, but let’s not fall in love.”

The statement comes out straightforward, and it almost catches you by surprise.

“What do you mean?” you ask softly, head tilted to the side and hand tugging slightly at his because sometimes his intentions don’t come across well with his blunt words.

He looks at you with that same something in his eyes that you’re scared to identify. His eyebrows scrunch together as if he’s trying to formulate the words to express his feelings. “The word love feels too constricting,” he eventually mutters.

“Should we stop this then?” you ask quietly, retracting your hand hesitantly.

He stares at you like he’s confused, and you find it a little difficult to look him back in the eye. Well, honesty is always the best policy, so if he’s honest with you, you might as well be honest with him.

“Because I like you,” you admit softly.

His mouth drops into a small ‘o’, and you think this is an awful moment for your soulmate to have such a rapidly beating heart because you almost think it’s your own, almost hope that it’s Atsumu and it’s his heart that’s beating like this.

“What we have now is fun, but I don’t think it’s fair if I’m the only one falling,” you add on quietly.

“I like ya,” he repeats as he grabs your hand, a glint of desperation in his eyes, “But I just can’t promise a tomorrow.”

You hum in acknowledgment before you meet his eyes again, and there are flashes of too many emotions. You pull back your hand slowly, “I understand.”

You really do because there’s something so scary about falling, about the unknown, about not knowing the ending. You know he can’t promise tomorrow because he lives for now, but when you are living in now, you can’t help but think about tomorrow. You can’t help but want him to be there for tomorrow, for the days after, for as long as you can foresee. Maybe you are also holding back to prevent yourself from falling deeper too, you think, so you just settle for leaving this in more than friends with benefits and less than lovers as it is now. Just as those words leave your mouth, his brown eyes dull in defeat and he gets up to leave.

“It was fun,” he tells you on his way out.

“It was,” you agree.

He looks back, but you’re too afraid to meet his eyes, so you settle for an awkward smile as you pull the blanket around you, desperately trying to cling onto the warmth he’s leaving behind.

You’re unsure if your heartache and tears are from your soulmate or you, but all you can do is muffle the sound of your sobs into your blanket as you breathe in the last of him.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

You end up taking up more hours at the animal shelter, and you begin writing out the thoughts inside your head. It’s kind of therapeutic because you can weave together a world, a reality that’s not yours. Sometimes, you are just staring at a blank page on the screen because you don’t have it in you to write, but you just end up trying to type out your incoherent thoughts anyways because it feels like it’s a way to get it off your chest, because it feels like you can live somewhere else as someone whose heart isn’t constantly in pain.

And, if your mind and fingers are preoccupied with creating, typing out a story then there are fewer chances that you end up thinking about brown eyes and dyed blond hair and smile brighter than the sun, fewer chances you end up texting him the thoughts inside your head and the feelings inside your heart.

It doesn’t work though because you find that all your stories have some parts of him in there. The protagonist that you unconsciously modeled after him, the love interest with his passion for life, the best friend with his embarrassing tendencies, the villain with his hunger for more, everything comes back to him.

You try not to think about the constant dull heartache and mild confusion that resides in your heart. You try to not mind the fact that there’s a constant hope somewhere in the back of your mind that whenever your phone lights up, it’s a message from him, and the tightness of your heart when it isn’t.

You wonder if he feels the same way.

It’s a Saturday night, and usually, you’d ask if your roommate wants to hit the club with you. Then you realize Atsumu just had a game in Tokyo, and you always somehow end up bumping into him at clubs. You only wrap yourself in your blanket once again as you curl up in a ball. You feel a little woozy like you’ve had too much alcohol, and your head is throbbing. Your soulmate has been drinking a lot in the past month, you think, and it’s a little crazy because this past month without Atsumu has been a little bit of a new low for you too. You almost hope that your theory about Atsumu being your soulmate is wrong because you’re a little concerned if he’s drinking so much recently.

When your phone lights up and vibrates, signaling a text message, you mindlessly grab it because you are expecting a text from your roommate.

But it is from Atsumu, and all the air in your lungs leaves you when you read his message.

“i miss u”

You’re hesitant in responding. You want it to mean something, mean he actually misses you and cares about you, but you’re scared to get your hopes up. What if it isn’t even meant for you?

You only respond with a short, “are you drunk?”

“maybr but i miss u all the samne”

You don’t know how to respond, but he continues to send you texts before you can think of a response.

“i miss sseein u in my ned and dryin u hair aftet hsowers”

“i hera ur laugh wjen i makr a joke anf ur all i think fo when i ssemll books and inkk”

“i c u efvrywhere i go”

“i thik im in luv w u”

Your heart is drumming instantaneously to an irregular rhythm, and you exhale forcibly when you read his last message. The message becomes blurry on your screen as your tears drop. Your mind is feeling a million things and your heart cannot keep up with his confessions. He’s drunk right now, you think to yourself, so don’t take this to heart. Don’t think too much into it. Don’t.

“you’re drunk tsumu”

You are about to type more when you see him send another message.

“can i cone c u”

“pls”

You see the three dots at the bottom of your screen before it stops. Shortly after, you see the three dots again and you wait in anticipation, subconsciously holding your breath as you bite your lip.

“Hello, this is Meian. Sorry about Atsumu. He’s drunk, but he is true in his feelings. I think he (and the rest of the team) would appreciate it if you could spare some time to talk to him. You don’t have to if you don’t want to or feel uncomfortable though.”

You don’t know what to think, but you are reluctant to see him. “What is the point of love if it doesn’t consume you?” echoes in your mind. You remember wanting to be absorbed in love, to find passion that makes you feel alive, and you find that in Atsumu. You realize you can’t keep holding back like this if you want to live, and you’ve always wanted an adventure and he is your greatest one. He is someone you are willing to fall for, even if you aren’t his 120%, because he makes you feel like you are 120%. You take a deep breath and begin typing.

“okay. where are you guys?”

Meian drops you a pin, and you realize it’s the park you two always pass by on the way back from the club. You fight the slight dizziness in your head as you get up to put on your black coat with gold trims that oddly reminds you of his jersey and head out. Your heart is running at a million miles per hour, but the burn in your lungs as you breathe in the cold air oddly gives you a sense of calmness and clears your head.

You are not sure what you want from this - you do, but you don’t want to say it aloud because what if you jinxed it. You are trying to calm your raging heart as you near his location. Your head is getting clearer and clearer, and you wonder if your soulmate is finally sobering up.

You arrive at a park shortly after. You see Atsumu slump on a bench, arm over his eyes as if he’s contemplating his life. You see some of his teammates around him, Meian and Bokuto sitting on either side of him, Hinata crouching in front of him, and Sakusa standing close by but not in their proximity, saying something you cannot make out. When Bokuto spots you, his golden eyes light up under the lamplight and wave you over vigorously. The rest of the team follows, but all you can focus on is Atsumu raising his arm slightly to peek at you.

Sakusa is the first to approach you, and he nods as a greeting. You nod back, and his voice is even, albeit frustrated, you think, as he says, “Please talk some sense into this idiot.”

Your throat dries, but you nod again nevertheless. “I’m not sure if anyone can talk anything into him,” you offer with a dry chuckle.

He sighs in agreement before he looks at you with something akin to sympathy in his eyes. “Good luck.”

Bokuto comes up as Sakusa leaves. His good-natured eyes and energetic smile energizes you, and it momentarily brings a small smile to your face.

“Hey!! Thank goodness you’re here! Tsumtsum’s been in a slump ever since you stopped hanging around. He’s a good guy!”

“Yeah!” Hinata’s voice chirps in, eyes bright and smile even brighter, “He’s a little troublesome, but he’s a good guy.”

The two of them look like they are about to continue saying more when Meian comes and places a hand on both of their heads and ruffles their hair a little to stop their tracks. It’s kind of sweet, and it warms your heart a little bit because it looks like a dad calming down his children.

“Good to see you here. As they said, Atsumu is a good kid, but I’m sure you already know that,” Meian says with a small knowing smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I do,” you admit softly and return his smile.

“Alright, well we were just here to make sure he got here okay. Here are our numbers if you don’t want to deal with him anymore,” Meian laughs softly.

You whisper a soft thank you before your eyes flicker to where Atsumu is sitting. He is still slumped over, though you can see the red in his cheeks and the tip of his ears. It’s kind of adorable, and it makes you smile, but your feet feel glued to the ground when you want to step forward. You know you told yourself it’s okay to embrace these feelings, to fall, but it doesn’t make you any less afraid. Your brain is prepared but your heart is still scared.

As if the trio senses your uncertainty, Hinata starts, “Tsumtsum’s an honest guy, so he wouldn’t say anything he doesn’t mean!”

Bokuto nods his head vigorously and cheers you on. “Yeah!! Go for it!!”

Meian just pats your shoulder and ushers the two with him as he walks forward. “Go.”

You inhale a deep breath and nod, feeling like they just gave you wings to move forward. “Thank you.”

They laugh it off before they walk off, and you can still make out some of their conversations - something about making Atsumu treat them some A1 wagyu steaks and “oooh, what about all you can eat BBQ!” next time.

With newfound confidence, you walk towards the bench where Atsumu is sitting. He peeks at you from under his arm again but doesn’t say anything otherwise. You take a seat next to him, leaving some space in between despite the cold weather enveloping you. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, and it’s so quiet that you feel like you can hear your pulsing heart. You stare at the evening sky and take in the stars that no longer seem like they twinkling in disappointment.

He tugs the end of your sleeve, and this pulls you out of your reverie. “I wasn’t lyin’,” he says softly. You can smell the alcohol in his breath and hear the slight slur in his voice, but he sounds genuine and exposed.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you silently admit.

His fingers on the ends of your sleeve make their way into your cold hand, instantly starting a fire on your hands and burning into your heart. “I just want ya.”

Your head snaps to look at him, and for the first time in a month, you’re really looking at him. You see his honest and hopeful brown eyes, face red from the winds or the alcohol or from being so raw, and form tense, almost as if he’s scared to hear the answer. You miss seeing him, being next to him, being with him.

“I thought you didn’t want to fall in love,” you respond faintly, almost inaudibly because he is holding your hand and it sets your soul ablaze in a way that you only feel when you’re with him. You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long because you’re absolutely in love with him and you’re scared to get your hopes up only to have them crushed again.

“I didn’t,” he admits honestly, “But it was too late. I see traces of ya everywhere even when ya aren’t there - in the crowds, at coffee shops and bookstores, at home when I’m back after a long day. Even when I close my eyes, I can see yer dumb smile and hear yer cute laugh, and it drives me insane.”

You smile as you whack him lightly with your other hand. “My smile isn’t dumb!”

“It makes me dumb, so it’s dumb,” he argues with a pout, but his pout fades into a smile that matches your own.

“That makes no sense, dummy,” you whack him softly again. You are almost afraid to process the latter of his statements because your heart is pounding so hard you can’t focus. You don’t miss the softness in his eyes or the affectionate smile when he’s looking at you, the gentleness and warmth of his hands as he’s holding yours.

“I think I was already in love with ya,” he confesses softly and squeezes your hand.

You can only stare at him. You feel a sudden rush of heat and excitement, of longing finally answered, of magic and love that sparkles and fills your heart and down to the depths of your soul. The words you never thought you would hear from him, the feelings you never thought would be returned, is right here. He is right here. Your heart is on fire, and you’re so hot it feels like you’re melting despite the cold weather. You feel like you’re on top of the world.

“I love you,” you whisper hesitantly as you search his eyes, not wanting to scare him off. You know he is a free spirit, and he doesn’t want and shouldn’t be tied to anything he doesn’t want to. When you only find the same look he gave you in his eyes, you can now finally put a name to the emotion: love. It gives you more confidence to squeeze his hand back and continue. “I love you with all my soul, with everything I have in me, from the beginning until the end of everything.”

Your heart beats madly and irrevocably, and for a moment you’re not sure if that’s your soulmate’s heartbeat or your own. You can only disorientedly stare at him, and he takes this moment to take your shaking hand and place it on his heart. You feel the rapid pace of his heart, and your accelerated heartbeats sync together in beats. His thumb gently brushes against your knuckles, and you find that this is a reality you don’t want to escape.

“It’s the same,” he affirms, easily and unquestionably.

“It’s the same,” you repeat slowly, words breathe out airily, and you are still a little in disbelief. “Looks like I stole your heart, huh?” you laugh softly.

“It was yer’s for the taking,” he replies honestly with a grin.

The distance between the two of you is gone, and you bask in his warmth. Your heart feels absolutely at peace and in love, and you’re wondering if your soulmate is feeling the same thing.

“You know,” you start, voicing out a theory you’ve had for a while, “Sometimes I think you’re my soulmate.”

He stares at you dumbly. “Huh, ya know, I’ve been thinking the same thing for a while too. I just wanta sleep sometimes after a long day, but then I suddenly feel excited and caffeinated and then want to cry in the middle of the night. There’s no one else I know who’s like this except for ya because I know ya do this when ya write the stories inside yer head.”

You stare at him. You don’t realize that he notices these small things about you, that he watches the way your face contours into a smile or falls into tears when you invest yourself in your stories. You can only smile wholeheartedly. “No one else has so many embarrassing moments that it makes me embarrassed and want to hide in a hole.”

“What!” he exclaims and adamantly insists, “I’m always cool and suave!”

“Uh, yeah, that ain’t it chief,” you retort with a grin. “You’re kinda embarrassing.”

He puffs his cheeks and pouts. You smile as you poke his cheek. He’s so cute. When his eyes meet yours again, your world stills. He is handsome, you think, as he leans closer to you. There’s something magical about this moment, and when he finally kisses you this time, delicately and hesitantly almost like he’s afraid and uncertain to, it feels different from the lustful, passionate kisses at night. It feels softer, indulgent, and it sparks a fire in your soul, like neon lights in a world gray, like summer in December, like you’ve been consumed wholly by love. When you finally separate for air, all you can do is mutter an airy, “Again.”

He swiftly kisses you again, and you kiss once, twice, until all you can think about in this moment is him.

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

You are writing your graduation project when you hear loud footsteps behind you. The scent of spices and soft cinnamon hits your nose before strong arms wrap around your torso. Blond hair tickles the side of your face as Atsumu rests his chin on your shoulders.

“Good morning,” you greet softly. It’s still early in the morning, and you’re a little surprised he is awake before his first alarm for his morning run.

“Mornin’, love. Whatcha doing?” he asks as he stifles a yawn, voice still groggy.

“Finishing a long-overdue story,” you hum out in response, your eyes never leaving your computer and fingers still on the keyboard.

You continue to work as Atsumu holds you, and for a moment, you think he must have fallen back asleep because he’s so quiet. That idea quickly disappears as he kisses your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin. When you laugh lightly and swat him away, he groans out in frustration from the lack of attention and buries his head in the crook of your neck.

You only laugh again, “I’m almost done, Tsumu.”

He whines in response before he lifts his head and settles his chin on your shoulder again. He quiets, and you can feel his eyes following the movement of your fingers as you type.

“Whatcha writing about?” he asks curiously, eyes now glancing at the words on the screen.

“The girl who felt like she had nothing,” you hum softly, a little distracted. “Then a dumb idiot came and made her realize she had everything all along.”

“Does it have a happy ending?” he asks, curiously, playfully, and almost shyly. He remembers you telling him about this story, about you from days long ago.

You stop typing momentarily and turn to meet his brown eyes and a soft smile. In moments like these, you wonder how you are so lucky. Your heartbeats sync together, and in his eyes, you find the passion you’ve always dreamed of, the 120% you’ve never thought you could be, and the love you’ve always wanted that consumes your heart and soul.

“I love you,” you breathe out.

His enthusiastic smile and loving eyes already answer you silently before he says it, but when he whispers “I love ya too”, it feels exciting yet peaceful, full of contradictions, but it feels so soft, whole, complete, and you want to live in this moment forever.

“A love like ours doesn’t have an ending, dummy.” The corners of your eyes crinkle in joy as you lean your forehead against his.

“Good,” he responds, hand tucking the loose strands of your hair from your bun behind your ear, “That means I get to keep ya forever.”

You hum in agreement. The thought of your bucket list from high school that you started to find fun briefly flashes in your mind, and you are glad to know that you don’t need things to check off to find fulfillment because you already have all that you want right here. But, you admit, you are glad you can finally cross out the final item of falling in love and being loved in return because you find that in Atsumu. He pushes you to find your passions, to fulfill your dreams, and he is your home regardless of whether you succeed or not. Whatever it is, whenever it is, you know he loves you all the same because he always looks at you like this , like he can see the stars in your eyes, like you hang the moon up every night, like you’re brighter than the sun.

“Yeah, forever sounds good.”

.✫彡.✫彡.✫彡.

stole your heart, and I got lucky. stole your heart, and it was mine in a million ways, for a million days.

end notes: pls don’t ask me how this soulmate au works. i don’t know either.

#miya atsumu #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #hq!!#haikyuu!!#miya atsumu x you #haikyuu x you #sorry this got kinda long #lowkey inspired by million days by sabai and lets not fall in love by big bang #head empty miya atsumu only #sometimes i write things #idk why these keep getting longer and longer when i just wanted to write a short fic #im sorry i have the vocab of a child #dunno how to describe volleyball games so i went the Hinata route #text

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oneletteredwondered · 4 years

Text

Insulted

Sum: Virgil works at a coffee shop and Remus is annoying. Annoyingly pretty.

Pair: Virgil/Remus, Dukexiety

Written for @dukexietyweek! Day 4: Coffee (Shop)

Warnings: Lots of swearing, mentions of the word pedophile in reference to Remus’ mustache, insulting remarks towards customers, some awkwardy mild panic feels, mostly stupid interactions.

Roasted is a fairly popular coffee shop. If only for the tourist attraction aspect of it that the employees are allowed to be as mean as they want to you and insult you with every order. They’re snarky and rude, and unless they actually get your order wrong, which they don’t, they don’t apologize for shit. They’re delighted when new-comers enter the shop unaware of the rules.

And whatever deity believed in above help the poor soul who asks for the manager because they are worse than the employees with a wicked wit and sharper tongue.

The rest of the employees would be scared of the manager because of this, but they have seen the man have a panic attack over potentially not having enough straws for the day even after three separate employees offered to go to the store and buy some. They’ve also seen the manager cry because they saw a video of a spider that was too cute for words which renders him pretty unintimidating. Besides, the manager has always been on their side of an argument anyway.

It’s a slow day and Virgil knows Missy hasn’t been sleeping right, or eating right, or feeling like she’s been doing anything right. So he packs her a muffin and a hot chocolate, and tells her to fuck off on home for the day. She doesn’t say thank you but the relief is clear in her shoulders so he knows it was the right thing to do. Besides it’s dead right now and he can handle a few customers for the time being until another employee shows up.

He serves a few people, some very eager to be insulted, some coming in with gaudy outfits for the sole purpose of being insulted, he has fun with those.

“What do you want?” He asks the next person in line, not even looking up from the register.

“I’ll have a large cup of whatever you are.” The person says and Virgil narrows his eyes and looks up. He stares at the stranger for all of three seconds.

“You have a pedo mustache.” Is what he says. The stranger breaks into a wide grin.

“Why thank you!” They sound far too delighted by that. Virgil continues to glare at them while writing the word ‘pedo stache’ on a large cup.

“What do you want?” He asks again more forcefully. The stranger hums in thought and Virgil would snap at them for taking too long but they are the only one in line right now.

“Hello?? Hurry up?” Screw it. He snaps his fingers in their face. Stranger man gives him a wicked smile and Virgil hates the little lurch in his chest because holy fuck and wait stranger is actually kind of pretty. Even with a fucking thin line mustache. Their eyes are bright green and streaks of white are layered in their hair. And Virgil always was a sucker for people with piercings and this dude sure has some to spare.

“Well if you’re not on the menu, I’ll have the raspberry lime tea. Hot as you please,” They say. Virgil writes cold on the cup.

“Anything else you fucking weirdo?” Virgil asks cause seriously it is kind of rude to be flirting with employees while they’re working but in the worst way Virgil kind of likes it cause it means he can say shit like that.

“Oh shit uhm, fuck.” Stranger man says and Virgil glares at them. Both for not being ready and also he kind of likes the way they say fuck which is not what he was expecting to deal with today.

“Jesus Christ dude were you not ready to order like why are you wasting my time?” Virgil demands. A few patrons of the place snicker into their cups and stranger just smirks at him.

“Sorry I don’t have a brain to mouth filter and it gets worse when I see a pretty person,” They wink and Virgil glares harder to will away the attempt at a blush on his cheeks.

“What else do you waaaaant.” He whines at them. Stranger laughs and pulls out a piece of paper. Virgil can already see the long list of items on it and groans.

“Relax it’s all one order,” Stranger says and Virgil scoffs.

“That’s so much worse!” He says. Stranger laughs hard at that.

“Well it’s not mine, princess back at the office is a picky bitch.” Stranger says with comically wide eyes and Virgil hates himself for it but he snorts. He schools his face back to neutrally angry and refuses to give the stranger the satisfaction of seeing him smile just yet.

So stranger man rattles off a long winded order that Virgil groans at with every new direction. He can easily make the drink of course that won’t be hard but he can complain about it so he will. He writes ‘princess’ on this cup.

Stranger man pays and Virgil sets about making the drinks very aware of the other watching him from the waiting counter.

“You just gunna keep staring at me like a stalker or what?” Virgil snips at them, pausing for dramatic effect. Mustache dude grins at him and leans on the counter with his head in his hands.

“I like the view,” He says. Virgil makes a retching sound and keeps making the drinks in question. He does his damn best with them and hands them off.

“Get the fuck out of my establishment,” He says and turns away. Stranger laughs and takes his drinks.

“Thanks for the buzz baby!” He calls out as he exits. Virgil flips him off.

As soon as the dude is out of sight, Virgil collapses on the counter in a heap of nerves and embarrassment. The only reason he was able to keep his cool was because he could hide it behind a massive amount of snark and spite. But stranger man was super pretty and wild and Virgil almost wishes he did something about it.

“You okay?” Parker asks when they show up for their shift.

“Do I fucking look okay?” Virgil asks them desperately. Parker just laughs and that’s good enough of answer for him.

“Hello gorgeous!” Virgil snaps his head up from the counter he’s cleaning.

“Oh hell no,” He says and walks away from the front to the back office, leaving his employees to handle Mr Mustache in his stead. He can’t handle it right now. Not when they’re wearing a fucking leather jacket and wild smile. He just can’t do it. So he hides in the back for as long as he can. Which ends up being about a whole ten minutes.

“Uh boss man?” Virgil groans cause that’s him. He’s boss man. Fuck. He drags his hands down his face and looks over at Todd. Todd shifts from foot to foot.

“There’s uhm. I just. Can you-” They don’t have to finish. Mom friend override has been activated and Virgil is heading to the front no questions asked. It’s not a rush right now thank goodness, but they lady at the counter is giving her all in 'entitled customer'.

“This is an outrage, I want to speak to the manager.”

“The fuck you want bitch?” Virgil says without thinking. The lady gapes at him openly.

“This is the worst shop I have ever been in.” She says as if that’s supposed to hurt. Virgil shrugs at her.

“You’re the worst customer that’s ever been in, did you want coffee or not?” He asks her and she gapes again and walks out.

“Put another ten in the draw for walk outs.” Virgil tells Todd who beams and takes the money from the register to put in a jar near the back. Once it’s full they have a party of some kind.

“That was beautiful,” A voice says and Virgil whips around and comes face to face with Stranger Man over the counter. They’re smiling at him crookedly and Virgil's mouth drops because he was not prepared to see them here still or this close to him or so damn pretty.

“Fuck you,” Is his reflex response.

“When and where darling?” Stranger angles over the counter to leer at him and Virgil squeaks. Full on, flat out, squeaks in embarrassment. The entire room seems to pause and watch. Virgil is frozen in shock and stranger looks like he just saw light for the first time which is absolutely unfair.

Virgil dips, and dips hard. He spins on his heel to lock himself in the office. He makes it there only to realize he can’t handle being in such a small space with his anxiety overriding him. He snatches his jacket off the back wall and catches Todd’s eye before he slips out the back door and into open air.

Once outside he leans against the wall, puts his head in his hands, and lets out a very pitiful whine as he sinks to the ground. That has to be one of the softest things he’s ever done in regards to a customer in his life and it will haunt him for years to come he knows it.

He spends a few minutes running through his breathing exercises which goes directly to shit when he hears footsteps approaching.

“I’m fine Todd go back to work,” He snaps.

“The name’s Remus actually.” Virgil jolts and looks at the stranger standing over him. Stranger, or well, Remus, gives him a small sheepish smile and pulls at a random strand of his hair. Virgil sinks lower in on himself.

“You’re a lot different in and out of shop.” Remus says after a sufficiently awkward silence. Virgil grumbles and hides his face in his arms. His entire body tenses when he feels Remus slide to sit beside him.

“I am uh. Like, legit sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Remus mutters. Virgil groans.

“I was not ready to deal with your stupid pretty face today.” He whines. Remus laughs at that.

“You think I’m pretty?” He asks and Virgil realizes his mistake in word choice. He glances up to Remus in panic cause now that he's admitted it, Remus looks even more pretty.

“Well I just- you know it’s- I don’t- Whatever!” Virgil word vomits all over the place. Remus continues to smile at him infuriatingly.

“Even with the pedo stache?” Remus continues to tease. Virgil decides he’s had enough and elbows Remus hard as he can. Remus lurches a little but he’s laughing. They lapse into an easier silence.

“Silver tongue ain’t so shiny out of work is it?” Remus asks him then but not meanly. Virgil snorts and covers his mouth with his hand to hide his smile.

“I have to get passed the awkward first,” He says. Remus hums in thought and snatches Virgil’s hand away from his face. Virgil lets out a dignified noise and snaps his jaw shut so hard it clicks when Remus places a kiss on his palm... then licks him.

“Gross what the fuck!” Virgil yanks his hand back and wipes off the slobber and decidedly not looks at Remus’s blinding grin.

“There! Now it’s not so awkward!” Instead of an answer, Virgil stands up and heads back inside the shop, leaving Remus cackling in the back. Virgil leans up against the door to hear him walk away and finds himself smiling at the interaction.

“Welcome to Roasted, or not welcome because we close soon I don’t actually care, what do you want?” Virgil is looking through receipts, making sure the till is all correct for the money they made today.

“I want your number.” Virgil freezes. He blinks dumbly at the papers in his hands and then up to Remus standing casually at the counter. His hands are in his pockets and he looks for the world unbothered but more subdued than Virgil has seen him before.

“Numbers not on the menu,” Virgil says dumbly in attempt to cover his frantic feelings. Remus shrugs and looks around the empty shop.

“Yeah but it’s what I want.” He says it so plainly. Virgil glares at him.

“Order something or get out.” That causes Remus to smirk. He orders a small tea and Virgil makes it silently, adding the receipt to the pile to check on. He pauses before handing the drink over, looking over his shoulder at Remus who is preoccupied with some of the decorative things on the walls. Virgil writes his number on the cup.

“Get your shit and get out,” He says and puts the cup on the counter, going back to his papers and ignoring the way his heart pounds in his chest at what he just did. Remus gives him a sad sort of look and leaves with his drink leaving Virgil wondering if he did the right thing.

Only for his stomach to swoop pleasantly when Remus swoops back into the shop 3 minutes later with a wild smile on his face and refuses to leave until they work out the plans for a dinner date.

“Go away.” Virgil greets.

“Never.” Remus smirks back at him.

#dukexietyweek2020 #virgil sanders #remus sanders #dukexiety #fic #my post

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sloppy-butcher · 3 years

Note

I will sacrifice my first born for a part 2 of dare you with joey

well anon, hand it over. give me the baby

edit// this thing is long like godDAMN i need to relax. hope yall enjoy it :)

Part 1: Dare You - Joey x Reader crackfic

Double-Dare You

The Legion (Joey) x Survivor!Reader

The pallet dropped against the concrete wall with a loud whack followed by a disgruntled shout. Joey reeled backward, his head aching from the collision with the wooden object. At the moment of successful contact, you spun around to the killer and passed him the biggest shit-eating grin you could conjure. Joey catches your elation and decides to ignore the pain to instead focus on you.

“Y’know, I’m still waiting for an answer,” Joey said, his tone casual as if this were a conversation taking place between equals in a normal situation. You rolled your eyes amazed by how stubborn and oblivious the man appeared to be - he would not drop the topic for anything, not even as he chased you with a hunter’s knife poised. “When are you going to take me on that date you promised?” This earned a chuckle from you, fully swinging round to face the masked man with your arms crossed over your chest.

“You’re joking, right?” He tilted his head feigning ignorance. Your smile stretches to an impossible brightness, how exactly this killer always made you feel so giddy and playful was beyond your simple understanding. Perhaps it was because you had never experienced a killer who was so talkative and lively, this being such a unique situation that against your better judgment you decided to humor it and actively encouraged his behavior. It was fun. “And where,” You shake your hands in the air, “would I take you on this hypothetical date?” Joey hummed, standing straight with his knife tapping under his chin in a contemplative manner.

“That should be for you to decide really. Though we could always go check out some cool places. These realms,” he gestures to the weepy forest around you both, “are ten times cooler when they are empty.” You raise a curious eyebrow, demanding an explanation without uttering a word. He sighs and lifts his foot to kick the pallet. “I mean, that cowboy saloon place is pretty awesome on its own. All old-western and shit. But it would be even cooler if it was just us two.” At the sound of the wood splintering, your instinctive reaction was to flee to another pallet leaving the man's comment to fall of deaf ears. Joey followed but stayed far enough behind to not have his skull caved in with another hit. You bring the new pallet down between you two and once again spin around to the killer.

“Tell me again why exactly I have to take you on a date? I don’t remember doing anything wrong.” You spit at him, venom dripping from every syllable of your inherently rhetorical question. Joey smirked under his mask - oh you were a feisty one alright. Cocky and proud even when kneeling at the feet of a predator. Rather than kicking the pallet, Joey let it sit between you two, making it an honorary truce-table. You would not run if he did not chase. And he only wanted to talk.

“Because you harassed me. Remember?” You shake your head in a mischievous ‘no’ earning another grin from the enthralled boy. God, you were good. Doing absolutely nothing at all but dragging him in all the same. “You smacked my ass,” Joey deadpans, “And you never made up for it.”

You smile at the reminder of your triumph from a few trials previous. Though you were scared pant-less at the time, looking back now only filled you with the taste of sweet victory. You would not let anyone convince you to do anything like that again, not even Meg with all her stupid, little games even if it did somehow end up with the outcome of befriending a killer.

“I don’t see why I have to pay anything for that little smack,” You toss your head and throw him a coy eye. You practically see the man shake from restrained laughter and knew that you had him wrapped around your little finger. You could easily manipulate him just as he could easily kill you. You shudder at the glimmer of the knife in his hand but decide to focus on the conversation rather than his purpose being there. “It was a harmless little thing.” You pull your hand up to your mouth to nonchalantly hide your growing grin.

“It was twice.” Joey retorts matter-of-factly. He watches as you release your tense posture, throwing a hand on your hip and rolling your eyes.

“Oh please, that is nothing really. Besides,” Your gaze falls down to his knife again and you feverishly swallow your mounting fear. “You have done far worse things to me.” At your words and pointed implication, Joey’s confidence plummets to the ocean floor. Of course, you would never trust him willingly, not after all he has done. And though he knew full well that he could just take you if he truly wanted to, Joey denied his animalistic urge in favor of keeping the peace. He wanted to keep your fire - preserve that genuine playfulness that he oh so enjoyed lest he shatters it by forcibly caging you.

“I know you have no reason to trust me,” Joey’s voice has lost all semblance of the peppy court-fool it was just moments before, catching you off-guard in its sudden change. He lowers his hand that holds his weapon, moving it behind his back so that it was out of your view. His head drops, the ebony eyes peeking out from underneath his mask glistening with unmistakable remorse. “But, when I say that I don’t want to hurt you. Please know that I mean it.” You wanted to scoff, to call his bluff and his terrible acting skills but something about his tone made you hold back your comments. There was a pure genuineness in his voice that flickered a light of hesitation in your head. Maybe it was your nativity or that stupid part of your brain that always wanted to see the good in people, but you believed him. You believed that he did not want to hurt you. At least not now.

“What about my friends?” You ask through your dawning affinity, guarding your words with the last ounces of your resistance to him. He was pulling you into him, dragging you down into those deep-as-night eyes.

“I will let them all go. But only today. Next time I…” Joey turns his head away from you, embarrassed and partly ashamed that he could not even offer you a solid answer. “There are things you don't know. I can only spare you sometimes before It gets angry.” He sighs and his shoulders deflate, making him look pitiful and small. You frown and feel yourself unconsciously step towards him, reaching out to try to comfort the killer. “Please believe me.”

“I do. I do believe you.” You spoke without thinking, stepping closer to the pallet, and to him. He instantly raises his head at your words and approach, surprised by your forwardness but nonetheless delighted. “For some reason, I do believe you. But I can’t…” You pause, shaking your head free from the intrusive thoughts daring to bubble over, “I can’t be alone with you. Not yet.” Joey understood that completely and a little too eagerly, nodded his head in agreement.

It wasn’t much but it was a start. And he was beyond happy to be given this opportunity.

“For now, I suppose.” You cringe inwardly as the idea formed in your head and moved into words. “I suppose you can smack my butt if it will even the odds.” Joey nearly fell over at your suggestion. He bit back a laugh and had to spin around so that he could compose himself. You watch as he doubles-over, clutching his stomach while emitting sounds of stifled giggling. After a few minutes, he straightens and faces you again, his expression and tone stone-like.

“Yes. I think that would suffice.” He narrows his eyes cunningly, “For now.” With your mouth agape in shock, you scoff and throw your arms up.

“Dude! I was joking! I didn’t think you’d actually agree to it?!” You feel your face begin to heat up. The man tilts his head ever-so-slightly and you could physically see his enjoyment growing at the expense of your humility. From the way he was standing so assured in his next decisions, you had the dawning realization that there was no way to talk him out of it now. Sucking back your pride you bite your lip and glare daggers at the man.

“Fine. Just,” You twist your body around, presenting your ass to him. How embarrassing. How humiliating! Every inch of you burned from excruciating pain, birthed from the pure absurdity of the situation as it finally rested upon your shoulders. “Just make it quick!” You practically shout over your shoulder, your face now a burning furnace you were sure was bright enough to light up the night. Joey was overwhelmed by your willingness to oblige and for a second, contemplated if this was even real. Just minutes before he was chasing you, begging you to so much as to stop and talk to him, give him just one single chance to try to reach out. And now, in the most brilliant and wonderful course of events, you had offered yourself to him! His fingers itched, his heart pumped louder than gunshots.

“Close your eyes.” Joey reactively says without planning or action. He only realizes his command when he notices your confused expression. “Please, trust me.” Your face flickers, shifting between utter bewilderment and denial. Then something clicks and you agree, closing your eyes and squeezing them shut. Joey goes to break the pallet, its job as instigator between debating parties no longer necessary. You flinch at the sound and fight the inherent urge to run from it and the monster behind the noise. Suddenly you feel him closer, the brushing of fabric against your bare arm lets you know that he was standing right beside you.

Ordinarily, killers breathed obnoxiously, panting loud and hard like hungry wild boars with their teeth bared and frothing saliva dripping from their bleeding lips. But as the man neared you, coming closer than you had previously ever allowed him to, he was quiet and gentle as a bee. Buzzing around slow and tentative, asking for you, a sweet flower, to open up and let him rest. He held back that part of him that had scarred you so many times before, confining the violent boar in favor of being human - if only for a moment.

Joey’s heart threatened to pump straight out of his chest, the hammering so boisterous in his ears that all he heard was thumping and all he saw was you. Your lip twitches, your eyes furrowed shut tense as his shadow covers your face. He slowly lifts up the bottom of his fabric mask, careful about his movements so as not to alert you. You were so much like a rabbit, frightened and easily spooked - he could not risk losing you now that he was so close. So close - close enough to…

In the blind obliviousness, you grow impatient, wondering why he had not already taken his chance you return his ass smack tenfold. But as you went to open your mouth to curse his slowness, a pair of lips land ever-so precariously on yours. Light as the cool breeze of a winter’s morning, so soft that you doubted they were even there. It was only when you pushed up into them did you realize their fullness. The man was kissing you - if you could call this weak excuse of a peck a kiss. He was scared to force himself on you, scared to chase you away if he let loose his full eagerness to consume you, and in doing so barely even allowed himself to touch you. You appreciated his controlled reluctance and as your boldness grew, so did your pressure into the embrace. You deepen the kiss and you feel the man shudder.

After a few seconds, the man pulls away gasping, his hot breath cascading across your flushed cheek. You stand there a moment longer with your eyes closed, unsure of what to do after this peculiar sequence of events. You feel the man move his lips once more to your tender face and place one last kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“The name’s Joey by the way.” He whispers into your skin, his voice a creamy, dark mess. The power you had over him, even in something as simple as a shy kiss, was immeasurable. Joey knew he couldn’t be around you for much longer lest he does something regrettable so begrudgingly he lowered his mask and stepped back. He looked you over one last time before sprinting off into the foggy abscess in that unnatural speed of his. You watch the whiteness consume his form and scream after him,

“That was not part of the deal!” But Joey was long gone before the first word had even left your mouth. Suddenly you couldn’t wait for that date.

#another joey crackfic #im waiting for the baby anon #lowkey really had fun writing this #dbd imagine #dbd x reader #dbd the legion #dbd the legion xreader #dbd the legion joey #dbd the legion joey x reader #dbd joey x reader

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

Thoughts - Part 1 // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This timeline is set around 2006 because that's when the actually 2nd season of Criminal Minds was going on. So Matthew is about 26.

Summary - Soulmate AU! Once you turn 18, you can hear some of your soulmates thoughts. And when you meet, your thoughts go silent for 30 seconds. Readers soulmate is quite the character. (Anything you see in bold is the other persons thought.)

Word count : 2.1k

This is kind of experimental lmao, lemme know if you like it :)))

"What was your first soulmate thought y/n?" I got this question often, everyone did. This time it was asked by a new friend of mine, we met in our cinematography class this semester at LAFS ( Los Angeles Film School ).

"I think my story is one of the more fun ones."

"I bet mines better." Her eyes held promise, but I wasn't sure she could beat me.

*It was currently 1:15 pm, and I was waiting patiently for my first soulmate thought. I was with my best friend Marley, we sat in the cafeteria of my college, mind you, surrounded by other people.*

*"What time were you born again?" She had asked the question so many times this hour, by the way she was bouncing, you would think that we were waiting for hers.*

*"1:19 pm for the last time Marley." I giggled, nudging her shoulder. I took a bite of the cupcake she had bought me for my birthday. It took no time for the clock to hit 1:19, I anxiously waited to hear something, anything.*

"Now disclaimer." I told my friend, who I now knew as Alex. "I knew that some people had reported that their first soulmate thoughts were kind of, *loud*. But I can tell you that I was severely unprepared."

*Only 30 seconds after my watch ticked past 1:19, I heard a near deafening screech in my head.*

***"What the fuck?!"** The thought was so obnoxious and loud that I spit the fluffy pastry from my mouth and directly onto the back of another person, holding tightly to my ears, this did not help.*

*"What's going on? What did they say?" Marley leaned over to me, rubbing my back with a horrified look. Not long after, the man I had spit on turned around with a furious look.*

*"Hey I'm so sorry." I choked out, waving a hand at the man. "My soulmate thought was painful." The man rolled his eyes with an angry huff, taking his cardigan off and turning back to his table.*

*"What did they say y/n?!" There she went again, bouncing like a dodgeball.*

*"What the fuck." My eyes darted to hers, narrowed slightly. She furrowed her brows at me. "He literally thought, what the fuck, so loudly."*

Alex was on the floor giggling like a fiend, she held her stomache as if her guts would spill out with so much joy.

"Nope, you're right." She could barely speak between laughter. "I can't beat that." She promptly wiped the tears from her eyes, composing herself. "So you haven't met him yet?" She let out a final sigh.

"Nope. When I meet him, I kinda wanna slap him." A sly smile made it's way onto my lips. "The little shit thinks the weirdest things! I have had to deal with his thoughts for 4 years, and I'm ready for the complete silent bliss when I meet him." I laid my head back on the couch.

**I would really like a fruit roll up right now.**

"Speak of the idiot, he really wants a fruit roll up right now." Alex shook her head at me.

"Maybe he will be funny?"

"We'll see about that. What was your first soulmate thought?"

Tonight was Marley and I's 'introduction night.' Similar to a movie night, we have a night every two weeks where we either introduce the other to a new show or movie, alternating turns.

"I think you'll like this one." She plopped onto the loveseat, nearly throwing and spilling the hot popcorn on me while grabbing the remote. "It's a crime show, just started last year so after this season we can just keep up with it. If you like it of course." The show was flipped onto the first episode, it was a man talking about an unsub, or unidentified subject. Then a younger guy walked in, interrupting him.

"Who is that guy?" The words flew from my mouth before I could even think them.

"Spencer Reid-"

"No, I mean his *real* name. He looks *so* familiar." It felt like my brain was eating itself alive, why did he look so familiar.

"I think his name is Matthew Gray Gubler." Marley shrugged, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Has he been in anything else but this?"

"He models a lot. That's probably where you saw him." She pushed some magazines around on her coffee table and threw one at me. "He's on page 16, Hilfiger Jean's." I flipped to the page, seeing his face again.

"Wow, he is something else. I must have just unknowingly saw him in a magazine somewhere."

"I know! Once I saw him on here, I knew you would think he was cute too. Plus, he's a genius. I figured this would be another Peter Parker situation again." She teased, poking at my giant crush on Spiderman AKA Toby Maguire a few years ago.

"Shut up!" I snickered, throwing a pillow at her head. My own thoughts were interrupted by one that was not my own.

**I wish Halloween would come faster.**

"Its literally May." I whispered to myself, earning a weird look from Marley. This is the typical weird thought, Halloween is big on his mind.

I of course ended up loving the show. ~~And may or may not have had a huge crush on Spencer Reid already.~~

I informed Marley that we would most certainly be catching up on the show regularly, making that out new weekly thing for a while.

Though I could truly not get that Matthew guy out of my head, and I had a weird feeling it wasn't just because I thought he was super hot.

Matthew

**Who is Matthew Gray Gubler?**

The thought nearly made me spit out my coffee as I walked through the set. I knew for sure that wasn't my thought.

*No shit sherlock.*

Now *that* was my thought.

The question swirled around in my head, I really wanted to just think,

*I'm Matthew Gray Gubler!*

Just to make this whole process easier. Who knows if she could even actually *hear* it if I did answer her, or that she would believe me.

So lost in my train of thoughts, pun intended, I ran right into a punch cart.

"Holy shit!" The punch came spilling down right onto my khaki pants. I rested my forehead on the rim of my coffee mug. "I'm so sorry Terry, I was really caught up in my head."

"It's alright." He pulled a towel from his back pocket, throwing it onto the puddle that was forming on the wood floor. "Thinkin' about a girl?"

"Yes actually, thinking about my soulmate. Let me help you with that." I kneeled down on the floor, wiping up the spill. "Sorry again."

"It's all good Matthew." He dragged the cart to the opposite side of the room.

**Why can I not focus damnit?! This trip is suppose to be fun. Focus y/n. Focus!**

Y/n! I've never heard her name before. Maybe shes getting closer to me.

I set my coffee on the table of the reading room, pulling my script out and sitting next to AJ.

"You seem out of it today, are you feeling okay?" She tapped my shoulder. "I saw you run directly into the lunch cart." She clearly tried to suppress a giggle.

"How did you meet Nathan? How did you do it?" My script was not slammed onto the table, my hands pressed firmly on top of it.

"Are you worried about soulmates again? Matthew, she will come to you-"

"She said my name!!" My hands flailed wilding in the air. "I heard her think it! This sucks." I laughed a bit at the end, feeling ridiculous and vulnerable. Ask phone buzzed on the table, interrupting my dilemma.

"Well I hate to stop you in the middle of this debacle, but we have a film class coming in to observe, I guess sit was suppose to be a surprise." AJ shrugged with a pity smile, which is my least favorite version of a smile. I dramatically slammed my head on the back of my rolling chair, groaning like a child.

"Come on Gubler, we don't even have to do anything, we just have to act normal so they can observe. Let's go educate some college kids." She stood above me, patting my head and dragging my seat from the table a few inches. I reluctantly stood up and left the reading room.

To be clear, if it were any other day than the day that I found out my soulmates name, I would be totally in the game. I love teaching people, I love being an inspiration, but all I could think about was how close yet how far I was from meeting the love of my life. I shook it all off, physically and mentally, while heading to the set.

*Time to get my head in the game.*

I hope my soulmate heard that and started thinking of highschool musical.

"Action!" I held my prop gun in my hand while following Shermar, he proceeded to kick a door down that had a camera on the other side to capture it. The class that was observing sat on the other side of the door, seeing all of the behind the scenes that goes on during filming.

To avoid making direct eye contact with the camera, I often look right past it. So instead of making eye contact with the camera, I made it with a girl.

Then it was silent.

I stopped in the doorway, leading AJ to slam right into me on her way through the door.

"What the hell are you doing Matthew?"

"Cut!"

**You have got to be fucking kidding me.**

We did not break our stare, her eyes wide now with the realization.

*Wow.*

The girl sitting next to her was shaking her shoulder violently, but she sat unfazed.

"Can you excuse me for a second?" Bobby Roth, our director for the day looked at me like I was dumb, inevitably giving in.

"Whatever, take 5 guys."

I immediately waltzed past the cameraman and over to, who I could only assume, was my soulmate. The girl next to her was promptly slapping her arm and squealing like a pig, but she was giving her quite the death stare.

*She's my kind of girl already.*

Right as I thought that, she looke duo at me with a large grin and a tilt of the head.

*Shit.*

**Damn, even cuter in person.**

"Thank you." I couldn't suppress the automatic pep in my step meeting her. "I'm Matthew, you must be y/n?" It came out as a question because I was worried I would be wrong, and embarrass myself.

Which I've done, many times.

"You know my name?"

"I uh, I heard you think it." I pointed to my head, nodding awkwardly.

"You are so weird." She laughed, which made my face reddened more 3x more than I'm sure it already was.

"What?" I managed to murmur out.

"Well, you just think about weird stuff, mostly Halloween though." She was slowly smiling more as she spoke of me, which made my heart skip a few beats. She was so much more beautiful than I had pictured her. Her eyes held every intelligent thought that I had ever heard from her, and I knew right then that the eyes were the door to the soul. "Now that I'm here," she finally stood to my level, poking at my chest. "Do you wanna do a couples costume? This year?" She did a cute half shrug, as if I would say no.

"Oh my God, you really are my soulmate." I pulled her into a hug, a tight one, never wanting to let her go now that I'd found her.

"Alright guys! Let's go!" Bobby motioned everyone back to the set.

"Yeah, get out there *Spencer*." She patted her hand on my cheek. I didn't know if I hoped that she *did* see or *didn't* see how much I already liked her on my face, but I could feel the admiration spilling from my features.

"I- I'll talk to you after this!" I stumbled backwards from her, going back to the set and awkwardly running my back into the cameraman.

"Can't wait!" She waved with a flushed face, sitting back down next to her friend who was now shaking both of her shoulders violently.

*This is the best day of my life.*

**Same.**

---------

I've got a few more Soulmat AU ideas if you want more! I just don't know if theres any demand, so LEMME KNOW.

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic #mgg imagine #MGG #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Note

Hi! Do you think you could write something about being Scott Lang’s other daughter and dating peter?? Thank youu

Like Father

Pairing: Peter Parker x Lang!reader

Synopsis: “You see your dad shrink down to the size of a thumb tack and ride on the back of an ant and you think, “hm, that’s the grossest thing I’ll ever see.” And that this happens.” You gestured to the mess in dismay, noticing something shiny on Peters wrist. “Are you guys handcuffed together!?”

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“Baby sitters here!” You called upon hearing the doorbell ring, despite being the one closest to the door. You refused to answer to door when people rang it out of silent protest for your dad making the doorbell chime “La Cucaracha”. It embarrassed you every time. Every damn time.

“Let it ring again!” Your dad called from his makeshift lab in the basement. “I want to hear those sweet tunes.”

“I’m going to answer it, just so you cant hear those sweet tunes.” You yelled back as you opened the door.

“Hey Mr. Pym.” You said, expecting to see Hank Pym, Cassie’s usual baby sitter. Instead, a complete stranger in a hood stood in your doorway. He gave you an awkward smile as he stood there, shivering in the rain. “Oh. You’re not Hank.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” The stranger said in a voice much higher than you’d think he’d be carrying considering his broad shoulders and strong demeanor. “I’m here to babysit Cassie. C-could I please come in?” He asked, still shaking from the cold.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” You said sheepishly as you opened the door for him to walk in your house. He took a step inside and gently shook off the rain drops from his coat. “Here, let me take your coat.”

You slid the damp raincoat off the strangers and hung it up on the rack next to the door. Once his hood was off, you could see the stranger more clearly. He was young, probably around your age or older. There were incandescent rain drops clinging to his tousled brown hair that reflected off the lights on the ceiling. He wore a wool sweater that looked like someone’s grandmother knit over a button down top. He was undeniably cute, in a nerdy kind of way. You became unexpectedly aware of your appearance, pulling down your skirt and pulling up your top. You were planning on going to a party and never normally dressed up. You didn’t want to leave this stranger with the wrong impression of you in case this was the last time you saw him.

“I see you fell for my reverse psychology to open the door.” Your dad said triumphantly as he came up the basement stairs. “Peter, you remember my daughter.”

“Uh, no actually.” You said, never taking your eyes off of Peter, who was giving you the same wistful look. You racked your brain for where you’d met this handsome stranger, but you came up empty. “We’ve never met.”

“Oh, you’ve never met Peter?” Your dad asked you, leaning against the doorway. You shook your head no. “Even better. You opened it for a complete stranger.”

A completely adorable stranger, you thought.

“I’m Peter by the way.” Peter awkwardly stuck his hand out for you to shake. “Peter Parker.”

“Y/n.” You said as you took his hand. “Y/n Lang.”

A bashful smile dressed his lips. If you thought he was cute before, he was even cuter with a grin.

“Mr. Lang, you never told me you me you had a second daughter.” Peter shifted his backpack on his shoulder and looked almost offended at your dad.

“I don’t like to give to much information anyway.” Scott shrugged and folded his arms. “I’m a very private man.”

“Since when?” You snorted. “You shouted your phone number out the window of your car the other day because some guy let you come into his lane.”

“Well, some guy was very nice and I wanted to thank him. And if it weren’t for some guy, you wouldn’t have gotten to school on time.” Your dad was heavy with the sarcasm, as usual.

“Well maybe you should take some guy out on a date tonight instead of Hope. I’m sure she’d love that.” You dished his sarcasm right back as Peter let out a laugh.

“You’re funny.” Peter said as he scratched behind his ear. Your dad looked surprised, then smug, at Peters sudden declaration. You, on the other hand, were throughly blushing and remained silent, not even giving him a thank you.

“Like father, like daughter.” Scott remarked, unblind to the connection forming between you and Peter. He knew his daughter well enough to know when she was crushing. You were witty and quick, and never one to be rendered speechless. After all, you were your father’s daughter. But here you were, standing in front of Peter, and not saying a word.

“Well, I’d hate to keep Hope waiting. She’s a truly hideous woman and doesn’t go out on dates often.” Scott rubbed his hands together and looked around for laughs at his joke. You did nothing but roll your eyes and toss him his keys. Peter, not knowing your father well enough to know he was never serious, looked horrified.

“He’s kidding.” You quickly assured Peter. “He worships Hope like the sun.”

“Yes I do.” Scott clapped his hands, proud as ever. Cassie suddenly came into the room and ran into Scott’s arms.

“Bye Daddy.” She said, giving him a hug.

“Bye pumpkin.” Scott kissed her cheeks and set her down. “Ready to go, Y/n?”

You looked between your dad and Peter. You had two options. Go to a fun party with your friends after a stressful week at school, or stay home with your little sister and a total stranger. The choice was obvious.

“I actually think I’m skip the party.” You said, much to Peters surprise, but not surprising your dad at all. He saw it coming the moment Peter walked through the door. “I think I’ll just hang out with Cassie tonight.”

“And Peter?” Your dad asked with a wicked grin. You gave him an angry look.

“Yeah.” You said, staring your dad down. “And Peter.”

When Peter was distracted with adjusting Cassie’s fairy wings, you and your dad got in a silent fight. He made kissy faces and dreamy eyes at Peter while you mouthed “shut up!” and hit him on the arm. When Peter looked up, you and Scott cleared your throats and leaned against opposite sides of the doorway, pretending nothing happened.

“Well, I best be going.” Scott said, shooting you a wink. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Okay, bye dad!” You yelled as you pushed him out the door. Scott left and got in his car, yelling something about how Teen Mom 2 was already cast.

You locked the front door and turned to Peter. To your surprise, he had Cassie in his arms, who had her arms comfortably around his neck. They were giggling quietly among themselves.

“Oh.” You blinked at the sight. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“I’ve babysat her a few times.” Peter told you as he fixed Cassie’s tilted crown. “Whenever Hank can’t make it.”

“I never knew that.” You said, feeling dumb for being the only Lang who wasn’t buddies with Peter Parker.

“Because you’re never home.” Cassie said, kind of sadly. You didn’t expect her answer to be what it was. Sure, she wasn’t wrong. But you didn’t think your after school activities and hang outs with friends had an effect on your little sister.

“I’m home now.” You told her, feeling guilty for not realizing until this moment that your little sister missed you. “And I want I hang out with you guys.”

“Really?” Peter asked, a gleam of hope in his pretty brown eyes.

“If that’s okay.” You offered.

“Yay, Y/n!” Cassie held up her little arms in triumph.

“I guess it’s okay.” Peter laughed at her reaction.

“Great.” You smiled, feeling surprisingly exciting for the night ahead. “Let me go change.”

You went up to your room and stripped out of your party clothes. You opted for a big Captain America shirt that your dad brought you after the battle at the airport and some soft sleep shorts. You wiped off your makeup and put on some light mascara and tinted lip balm. You judged your appearance in the mirror, decided you liked it, and went downstairs.

When you came down the stairs, Peter was running around the room with Cassie in his arms. Her fairy wings were on and her arms were out, Buzz Lightyear style. Peter was making plane sounds as he jumped over furniture. You didn’t make your presence known just yet. You wanted to watch how sweet Peter was with your little sister for a minute more.

“Peter.” Cassie giggled. “I’m not an airplane. I’m a fairy.”

“Well what sounds do fairies make?” Peter played along.

“I heard that they sound like wind chimes.” You said with a smile. Peter stopped spinning around and smiled sheepishly at you.

“Oh, sorry.” He apologized. “She likes it when we do this.”

“Don’t apologize.” You told him, walking further into the living room. “You’re good with kids.”

“I’m good with my favorite kid.” Peter set Cassie down, gave her a fist bump and wandered into the kitchen. It made you wonder how many times he’d been in your house without your knowledge. “How about we make your favorite brownies, princess?”

“Brownies!” Cassie cheered, getting the mix out of the pantry. Hearing him call her “princess” tugged at your heart strings. He was being a better sibling to Cassie than you had been lately. That stopped tonight. You helped Cassie and Peter mix the batter and spoon it into a pan. He helped Cassie crack some eggs and add in the vanilla.

“Alright miss.” You said once the oven was preheated and ready to go. “You’ve been a great help but you can’t use the oven. Peter and I got this part.”

“I’m gonna wait in my room.” Cassie told you before scurrying away, leaving you alone in the kitchen with Peter. He popped the brownies in the oven and immediately got to work cleaning the mess you’d made along the way.

“You don’t have to do that.” You told Peter as he put the ingredients you used back in the fridge. “We can leave it for my dad to clean when he gets back. Cassie and I are very good daughters in that way.”

“Its no trouble.” Peter told you as he wiped the counter top of any stray crumbs. “I like your dad. I’m happy to help him out.”

“You do?” You asked in shock. How could a smart guy like Peter like your butthead father?

“Yeah.” Peter laughed at the disgusted face you hadn’t realized you were making. “He’s funny.”

“Funny looking.” You replied.

“I see where you get it from.” Peter said playfully, untying his apron and putting it back in the drawer.

“People say we’re alike, but I don’t see it. My dads a little nuts.” You admitted with a proud smile. “He’s kinda like a sentient roomba.”

“I would love for you to explain further.” Peter chuckled as you picked up a rag to help him clean.

“Like, he means well, but all he does is clean and bump into things.” You said as you hit your hip on the corner of the table.

“Like father, like daughter.” Peter commented as you doubled over in pain.

“Speaking of my father, how do you guys know each other?” You asked, rubbing your sore hip.

“We met in Berlin a few years ago.” Peter said casually.

“Oh.” You nodded. “Wait, you were in Berlin? At the battle at the airport?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m…Spider-Man.” Peter stammered. He wondered why he even bothered wearing a mask these days if he did nothing to keep his identity a secret.

“So you’re the one who made my dad fall over like he was in Guilliver’s Travels?” You recalled the story your dad told you, which involved him growing really big and Spider-Man wrapping “something sticky” around his huge legs.

“It’s um, The Empire Strikes back, actually.” Peter reluctantly corrected you, not wanting to seem like a smart ass. “And he’s totally cool with that now. He knows I had to do to to impress Mr. Stark.”

“So you’re like a full blown Avenger?” You asked coyly, knowing Peter wasn’t the type to brag.

“Yeah, basically.” Peter nodded in a higher voice than usual. “Mr. Stark recruited me for that fight and I’ve been working with him ever since. He basically became like a father to me since…” Peter trailed off and looked embarrassed for a second.

“Since?” You asked, trying to meet his gaze, which was glued to the floor.

“Nothing. He’s just like a father to me. That’s all.” Peter finished. You knew not to press the topic any further. Peter looked up at you graciously for understanding.

The ding from the oven pulled Peters attention from you. You watched him curiously now that he had a new air of mystery around him. He knew exactly where your oven mitts were and slipped them on. He took them out as Cassie came bounding into the room.

“Are they ready?” She bounced up and down, trying just to see into the pan.

“They’re a little burnt, but they’re ready.” Peter told her. He bent down so she could see how they came out. You admired how gentle he was with her, keeping the pan away from her so she couldn’t burn her fingers.

“They’re so ugly.” Cassie said with wide eyes. “I love them!”

After eating too many brownies and wiping Cassie’s face with a warm towel, Peter suggested another activity.

“How about some makeup?” Peter asked as he put the dishes in the sink.

He’s washing the dishes, you thought, he’s perfect.

You watched Peter with a sly smile. He was being so domestic and wholesome that your heart melted.

“Cassie’s too young for makeup.” You suddenly realized what Peter had said.

“Not for her.” Peter laughed as he dried a plate and put it in the correct spot in your cabinet. “For me.”

“Follow us.” Cassie commanded as she lead you and Peter by the hand into her room. She got out her Claire’s makeup set and sat Peter down in her rolling pink chair. He sat down like he’d done it a million times before. You just stood by and watched as Cassie smeared shimmering purple eyeshadow to Peters eyelids. He was so compliant, staying perfectly still as she poked and prodded at his face.

“Shoot.” Cassie said as she finger painted orange blush to Peters cheeks. “I left your tiara in the basement.”

“Well I simply can’t go out like this.” Peter pretended to be insulted as he gestured to his outfit. Cassie giggled with delight.

“I’ll be right back. Y/n, can you put his lip gloss on?” Cassie asked as she crossed the room and went out the door.

“Sure.” You called as Cassie ran out of the room. She had been standing on a stool to apply Peters makeup, but you didn’t need the stool. You couldn’t get to his lips from where you were standing. You tried to go in from several different angles, but you could never reach. Finally, you straddled Peters lap and looked up at him shyly, lip gloss tube in hand. Peter hesitantly rested his hand on your legs with a feather light touch.

“So, uh,” you smiled nervously at him, which he returned. “Or you a Cherry Red kinda girl or a Princess Pink?”

Peter laughed, fanning your face with his minty breath. “Princess Pink. Cherry Red would clash with my blush.”

You tapped the tube against the heel of your hand and twisted the cap off.

“Pucker up.” You instructed. You absentmindedly puckered your own lips as you applied the sparkly gloss to Peters lips. He kept his eyes trained on you as you lathered it on. You were so close. Close enough for him to smell your perfume.

“What’s that perfume you’re wearing?” Peter asked without moving his lips. You were concentrating pretty hard for someone using Claire’s lip gloss.

“Why?” You laughed softly. “You want some?”

“I just want to know the name.” Peter smiled, careful not to mess up your work. Though you didn’t have to be, you were both speaking quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence.

“I’m not sure. I’m think it’s one of those dumb ones like “Midnight at the Beach.” As if anyone knows what a midnight at the beach smells like.” You answered him. Peter took a whiff of the air. Your air.

“Midsummer Bay Breeze.” Peter suddenly identified after racking his brain. “My mother used to wear it.”

“Used too?” You asked, wiping off some excess gloss with your thumbnail.

“She and my father died when I was young. I live with my Aunt now.” Peter confessed. You set the tube down and looked at him seriously.

“I’m so sorry.” You told him, squeezing his hand. “You didn’t tell me that before.” He’d begun to tell you before when you had been talking about Mr. Stark, but he stopped himself.

“I didn’t want to scare you away.” Peter said honestly.

“What changed your mind?” You asked curiously, still in a hushed tone.

“You weren’t sitting on my lap before.” Peter said with a sly smirk. You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes.

“Is it okay?” You asked his cautiously, treading the water. “That I’m sitting there now?”

“It’s more than okay.” Peter tilted his chin upwards, his lips grazing yours as his breath fanned your face once more. You stayed like that for a minute, just breathing each other in. The scent from his sticky gloss wafted into your nose, causing you to smile.

“Are you going to kiss me, or am I going to have to lie to my diary tonight?” You whispered when he was taking to long, making you more and more anxious with every passing second.

“You keep a diary?” Peter teased, reaching his chin even higher.

“You keep talking.” You didn’t let him get another word in as you pressed your lips to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He moved his hands to your waist and kept them there, in true gentleman fashion.

“Ugh.” Peter giggled, when you pulled away breathlessly. “You totally messed up my lip gloss.”

“I found it!” Cassie burst into the room with a purple, feathery tiara in her hands. You wiped Peters lip gloss off your mouth quickly and got off his lap.

“Thank goodness.” Peter said, snapping out of his love struck daze. “My outfit was incomplete without it.” He took the tiara from her hands and put it on his head. He turned to you after taking a look in the mirror.

“How do I look?” He asked you with a cheeky grin. Cassie looked between him and you thoughtfully.

“Like a million dollars.” You told him, clasping your hands together and resting your chin on them.

“I feel like it too.” Peter smiled, his smeared lip gloss glistening in the light.

“You’re terrible at putting on lip gloss.” Cassie suddenly spoke up. “You got it all over Peters mouth.”

Needless to say, your diary heard all about it.

But that was eight months ago.

“What the hell is this?” You stopped in your tracks when you walked in on Peter doing the unthinkable.

“We’re doing magic together!” Your dad cheered. There were about four decks of cards scattered around the room like confetti. They were sticking out of your dads pockets, Peters sleeves, and you were pretty sure there was one stuck to the ceiling.

“I can see that.” You grumbled angrily. “Why?”

“We’re magic buddies.” Scott replied with a shrug as he pulled a long, colored handkerchief out of Peters shirt pocket.

“You see your dad shrink down to the size of a thumb tack and ride on the back of an ant and you think “hm, that’s the grossest thing I’ll ever see.” And that this happens.” You gestured to the mess in dismay, noticing something shiny on Peters wrist. “Are you guys handcuffed together?”

“One of the magic tricks didn’t go as planned.” Peter told you timidly. You groaned loudly and stamped your foot.

“This is like the worlds worst reboot of A Bugs Life.” You complained. “I’ve seen a five foot tall ant in our shower, and somehow, you handcuffed to my boyfriend is worse.”

“Technically, your boyfriend is handcuffed to me.” Scott sassed you.

“That’s just not true at all.” You deadpanned.

“Yes it is.” Scott taunted. “Because I have the key.”

“Then use it!” You exclaimed, growing frustrated.

“That’s a great idea.” Scott realized. “I didn’t even think of that.”

Scott took a small metal key out of his pocket and unbuckled the hand cuffs. Peter slid out and went over to you, giving you a kiss hello.

“I won’t do magic with your dad anymore if it bothers you that much.” Peter said with a grin, knowing damn well he’d still be doing magic with your dad. “But I do have something to show you.”

Peter pulled out a magic wand and held it up for you to see. He shook the wand, making it turn into a single rose.

“Aw.” You said as you took the rose. “I didn’t hate that as much as I thought I would.”

“Thanks.” Peter smiled. “Your dad taught me.”

“And now I hate it.” You said sarcastically.

“Fine.” Peter agreed. “What about this?” He pulled a card out from behind your ear and handed it to you with a cheeky grin. You took the card skeptically and looked at it.

“The Queen of Hearts.” Peter said softly, in a more serious tone. “Because you’re the Queen of my heart.”

You took the card with a small smirk, hating how much you adored the trick.

“You’re lucky I love you, Parker.”

“I already know that, Lang.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #peter parker x lang!reader #spiderman x lang!reader #scott lang #antman #antman and the wasp #spiderman: far from home #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #cassie lang #tom holland x y/n

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notaburgler · 4 years

Text

Catch me off guard, Ok? Aizawa x Fem!Reader SFW

You worried. You worried during the day, you worried at night. You just plain worried. The lingering feeling of dread followed you no matter how many times he said he was perfectly capable of defending himself.

“I’ve trained for years. I know how to do this. You have no reason to worry,” he would say with a lazy smile and a kiss to your forehead.

You still worried. He was always so tired; so out of it. It started as a simple fear of losing your new husband, but after years together and the attack on the USJ, it turned into paranoia.

You’d call him at all hours when he wasn’t home. This wasn’t an untrusting wife checking in on her husband to make sure he wasn’t cheating— you knew he’d never do that— it was a wife scared she’d get a call from the cops and would have to prepare a funeral for the love of her life. Some might say it was pregnancy brain since you had just found out you were with child a few months back. You’d dismiss this claim stating you had feared for his safety for years.

You really shouldn’t worry. Shouta was quick on his feet and had an awareness of his surroundings that most people didn’t. His quirk, although useful, wasn’t a quirk meant for strength and fighting, so to say. He compensated by familiarizing himself with hand to hand combat and the use of his capture weapon. But you still worried.

He grumbled as he squatted on a rooftop watching people pass by in the darkness. It was a slow night. “Yes, dear?” He answered his buzzing phone just as he did forty-five minutes ago.

He loved you, but your fear was a bit annoying at times. You needed rest but you’d stay up all night scared that someone would take him away from you, and it only got worse once you found out you two were going to be parents.

“Baby,” he sighed and leaned back against a wall, “I know you are worried, but I’m fine. No one's gonna hurt me.” He couldn't help but smile at your crazy babbling.

Not many people in his life had cared so much about him and showed it so openly. “Our baby won’t grow up without a dad. I promise. Now go to sleep and I’ll be home soon.”

He snickered at your light crying, “I’m not making fun of you babe. Please go to sleep. I’ll be home soon.” He waited for your response.

This, the tears, were definitely the pregnancy. It just recently started. “Good night, babe. I love you.” He hung up and went back to watching the streets.

****

“I just think that while I’m carrying your baby inside of my body, You should be home every night,” you argued that morning as your husband tried to stay awake, resting his hand on his face to prop it up. “See!” You screamed making his eyes bulge open and his head shoot up, “You're falling asleep at the table! How am I supposed to feel ok with you out fighting villains when you can’t even stay awake at home?” You spoke with slightly trembling lips and a lump in your throat.

“I just woke up, babe,” he reasoned, the best he could.

“Just-“ your thought was cut off.

“Alright.” He sat up and shook his tiredness away. “I’ll prove that, even when I’m tired and groggy and half-asleep, I can still dodge any attack coming my way.”

You furrowed your brows in question. How did he intend to prove something like that?

“I want you to start throwing random stuff at me. At any moment. In the shower, when I’m cooking. As I’m sitting eating breakfast. Just toss it at me as hard as you can.” He stated taking a bite of food before grabbing his scarf and heading to the door.

“Catch me off guard, ok?” He gave you a smile and left.

You had the rest of the day to think on it. Could you get yourself to throw stuff at your husband? What if you were right and you ended up hurting him? You wouldn't be able to live with the shame of hurting your love when he wasn't paying attention. But the invitation was intriguing. You did have some pent up frustration since you got pregnant. It was his fault to begin with anyway. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

Having taken time off work, you got to prepping the baby’s room. Shouta wouldn’t let you paint because of the fumes, but he didn’t seem to be jumping to get it done either. In a few short months that room would be occupied, and Shouta was always such a busy man.

You let out a sigh when you felt a kick. “Well don't be mad at me,” you say as you started putting the crib together. “Your dad didn’t pull out and that’s his fault.” You kept going, spending your day complaining to your baby about your frustrations.

You’d go back and forth on the subject: how much you loved Shota to how much you resented him for being able to leave the house. Lately, it had become far too dangerous to go anywhere. With All Might in retirement, the villains were running around like caffeine-driven, unattended toddlers in a candy store. You felt safer behind those four walls with a heavily locked door between you and the world. Soon, Shouta would come home and you would feel safer still. He didn’t have patrol that night and you needed to go grocery shopping; a chore you loved doing with him. But before that, you still had a lot of stuff to do to prepare for the baby.

The cats nearly killed you on multiple occasions; swerving in and out of your legs as you walked. You wouldn't be surprised if he came home with another cat sometime soon. The two you already had were brought in on rainy days. Shouta looked to you with an uncharacteristically pouty face, batting his eyes and silently begging to let him keep them. You relented, soon loving your little fur babies. He always got upset that the cats liked you more, and you loved rubbing it in his face when the opportunities arose.

He came home to see you still trying to figure out the crib and leaned on the door frame to watch. “Are you gonna help or just make fun of me?” you asked with attitude.

He smiled, but remained still until your brows furrowed. “Just gimme a minute to change,” he said at last with a laugh.

You huffed, gripping the wrench tight in your hand. As if possessed by some demonic force, you turned your growing body and tossed the wrench at him as he left. Instantly, watching the heavy metal object fly through the air with a whoosh, you felt the regret sink into your bones. He tilted his head just in time and the wrench flew past him and landed in the living room with a small thud.

“See babe.” His light snicker only made the anger you felt a few moments ago boil up once more, “I can dodge anything you send my way.”

You were still mad as you marched up and down the aisles at the grocery store. He smiled, happy as a clam. You knew he thought you were so cute when you were angry. The small wobble of your gait made his heart melt. Bow legged and huffy with attitude, you grabbed a can of soup, and as he turned his back to check the rice selection, you narrowed your eyes and tossed the can as hard as you could.

He didn’t even lift his head. He didn’t even glance your way. He simply lifted his hand and snatched the can mid air, tossing it over his shoulder and into the cart. It was impressive. Maybe you were wrong about his inability to defend in a tired state. For a moment, you relented in his claims that he was capable of defending himself; but part of you felt this exercise of throwing random items at your husband, knowing he’d catch them, was a bit… therapeutic.

He looked up with a bag of rice and tossed it in the cart with a yawn. Maybe he was trying to trick you into thinking he was tired when in reality, he had slept all day in class.

“Babe?” you asked.

He hummed, looking up and down the cereal aisle.

“I think you’re trying to trick me.” You huffed with your hands on your hips and pouty lips.

He kept looking at the boxes. This drove you up the wall.

“Babe!” you screamed.

“I’m not tricking you or lying to you. I’m just proving my point. Keep throwing things at me until you feel I’ve made my point, that any time, any where, I can dodge an attack.” He selected his cereal and put it in the cart.

Shota kissed your forehead and moved along. The rest of your shopping adventure was uneventful other than a few more attempts to catch him off guard.

At home you tried again. You threw everything you could as fast as you could while unloading the groceries, but your damn husband had reflexes like a cat. He wasn’t even sweating and you were out of breath.

He turned around and let his shoulders fall, that same drowsy look painted all over his face. “Are you done?”

His question was met with a pout and a huff. “You're just hyper aware that I’m trying. I’m gonna get you when you least expect it.” You pointed out to him with a determined stance.

****

The next day was uneventful. You lounged around waiting for Shouta to get home. You were bored and restless. As the hours passed, you managed to keep busy with housework and working on the baby blanket you were crocheting; you hatched a plan that would easily catch him off guard. You selected a stress ball as you item of choice and as the hour hit five, you crouched into your hiding spot waiting for the familiar jingle of his key chain at the front door.

A wicked smile crept to your normally soft face hearing that squeak of the door hinge he had promised to fix ages ago.

When the door shut, you had to hold your breath to stop the urge to snicker. “Babe?” He yelled tossing his keys to the counter top, “Babe?”

His footsteps made their way down the hall to your shared room and another squeak of a hinge made you bite your lip in anticipation. It was exhilarating. Hiding in wait to attack your husband, no matter how harmless the attack may be. It was fun and kept you busy.

“Babe?” He asked once more, looking inside the dark room.

You hurled the stress ball at him as he turned to look into the bathroom.

This was it. He was gonna get hit. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before and the phone call you had with him from earlier made you positive that he would be way too out of it to dodge this one.

But of course, his hand swatted the ball away, and to prove his point, he used his scarf to wrap you up and draw you to him.

His Cheshire grin made you even more angry, in a playful way, of course. He was so confident and cocky about it. “Babe, you can’t get me, even if you are hiding in the dark.” He smirked, kissing your cheek and heading back out to the living room.

His scarf unwound and fell to the floor at your feet. You looked down at the material. He was so quick to coil it around you, gentle enough as to not hurt you, but strong enough to keep you from moving or being able to free yourself.

You smiled. You were so lucky to have him. Your mood swings had taken hold and you had been emotional about everything. He stood by smiling and holding you, even when you’d call him a heartless monster or something even worse. It wouldn’t be but a few short minutes later that you’d curl up in his arms and demand love from him- a silent apology for your actions and words.

He had already started the movie he promised and was in the kitchen popping the popcorn. You relaxed on the couch, sinking into the plush cushions you knew you’d need help out of later. He looked in the fridge for drinks. With how frequent your tastebuds and cravings had changed, he wasn’t sure what to get you anymore.

“Babe,” he yelled lifting his hand to grab the remote hurled at his head, “milk or tea?” He looked up to see you struggling to adjust again.

You crossed your arms. “Tea.”

*****

As the weeks passed, most of your attempts to get Shouta had failed. Actually, all of them failed. But this time… this time, you’d get him.

He stood at his podium speaking to his class. Your eyes scanned over each one wondering which ones were the problem children he had mentioned in his nightly rants. The spiky blonde was the kid on the news that was abducted by the villains. And the green haired one was always at the center of each villain attack. You glared at them both. They were the reason you had gone completely nuts with paranoia.

You gripped the egg in your hand. You never wanted to hurt him, you just wanted to make sure he was safe when he was out doing his hero work.

“Alright class,” his eyes were basically closed, “Hero work is more than just saving lives and fighting villains.” Shouta always complained about how this part of class would lose them: hero laws.

As he reached for his book on his desk near the corner, the door slid open. His class glanced over expecting a surprise teacher, only to see a very tiny pregnant woman throwing something small and white at their teacher.

A collective gasp echoed in the room, but before anyone could warn him, Shouta had already grabbed his book and held it up in front of himself; the egg splattering across the cover.

“Babe,” he sighed, checking the damage, “really?”

You shrugged. This time, your emotions didn’t get the best of you. This was fun. And it was possible that getting out of the house helped make you feel more calm when your plan failed.

A student spoke up, “Mr. Aizawa?” The trouble child, Midoriya shakily raised his hand, “What just happened?” The kid was a nervous wreck and you only threw an egg at his teacher.

The explanation went over with shocked faces and a few stars shining in their eyes. Most didn’t know their home room teacher was even married, let alone expecting a child. They all seemed to be engaged by the sudden arrival of his wife, and he took that as a sign that the lesson wouldn’t happen any time soon. He was bombarded with questions that he knew, if left unanswered, would distract them enough to make his lesson go unheard.

“So let me get this straight,” Kaminari leaned back in his chair playing with Ojiros tail, “you're married and expecting a baby with a super hot babe of a wife. And that babe of a wife randomly throws things at you for fun?”

Shouta, clearly over this conversation, responded with an exasperated sigh, “She’s worried I’ll get hurt on the job. So I challenged her to throw things at me at random times and as hard as she can so that I can prove that I’m capable of defending myself even if I’m dead tired.”

You smiled at him and kissed his cheek before leaving. You still weren’t convinced that he wouldn’t die a painful death, but all of that walking made you tired yourself.

As you left the classroom, you heard the hollers of the students. A smile graced your lips; you had gained more people in your venture to keep your husband on edge and aware.

“Mr. Aizawa!” A voice came barreling down the hallway making you stop to listen.

“You all need far more training to be able to hit me with anything.”

He sounded so cocky, it was kinda sexy. You left vowing to make sure that he was well taken care of that night. “Oh he’s so getting some when he gets home.” You laughed, carefully making your way down the staircase.

Upon arriving home, you waited. Maybe you’d give it a break for a few days. After his students’ declaration to join you in your task, he was sure to be tired. But that tiredness would serve as a good means to catch him off guard. You mulled over the thought as his keychain jingled. A heat rushed to your cheeks and a tense, tightness grew in your chest. You were anxious to see the love of your life. He hesitantly opened the door, his eyes peeking in and scanning the living room first. He was definitely on edge. His class must have really put him through the wringer if he was this paranoid. His eyes, more blood shot than usual, landed on you cross legged on the couch with your blanket on your lap.

You tried to hold back the smile, but couldn’t muster the strength in you to do so. “Don’t worry babe, I’m not gonna try tonight. Come sit with me.” You patted your lap signaling you wanted him to place his head there so you could play with his hair.

He was still hesitant, his thoughts clear to your knowing gaze. Was this all an act to catch him off guard? Was this just his loving wife being sweet and doting? Maybe asking you to catch him off guard wasn’t the best idea. He’d probably feel safer standing at the end of a shooting range and dodging bullets.

His head fell into your lap and you chuckled at how tense he was. “I promise, no throwing things tonight. I’ve got sexier things in mind for you.”

He looked up into your eyes, “All day,” he finally closed his own eyes for the first time that day. “All day students were throwing things at me. Even the teachers got involved- and not in the way you’d expect.” A long sigh lasted the duration of his speech.

You spent the night catering to your man. Letting him know how appreciative you are of him. He took care of you and watched out for you, even after dealing with a bunch of prepubescent high schoolers all day. You took the lead, letting him enjoy himself and relax. You could see the waves of stress rise from his body with every passing moment. Laying down to sleep for the night, you kissed him on the lips and smiled down. He was already asleep.

“Tomorrow, I’m gonna getcha. But tonight, sleep well.”

#shouta aizawa x reader #shoto aizawa #bnha #bnha fanfiction #married life #pregnant reader #fem!reader #Female reader #domestic life #domestic fluff #eraserhead

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