#they just ignore the progress he's made and it makes me irritated | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willowser · 7 months

Text

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds.

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating.

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is.

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

#narrator voice: willow did not have the spoons to extend the ending #whoopsie #okie okie part 2 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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thatdammchickennugget · 2 months

Note

Wassssup okay, if you want for something to write you could do Mattheo with the quote “a special place in hell for me? For me personally? Aw wow that is so sweet” like him being sarcastic. Lmao I saw this on a TikTok once anyway ilyyyy have fun writing bub 💛✨

Brewing Tension

pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader

warnings - bickering and teasing, use of petnames

a/n - greggy my favourite little flower I love this and I had so much fun writing it

wordcount - 838

You couldn't deny the rush of excitement every time Mattheo Riddle walked into the classroom. His smug demeanor, coupled with his sharp wit and undeniable charm, drew you in like a moth to a flame. But as attractive as he may be, he was also a huge pain in the ass. Especially if he was your assigned potions partner and seemingly couldn’t care any less about the subject.

It was a typical day in class, the air thick with the scent of potions and brewing ingredients. As Professor Snape droned on about the properties of Wolfsbane potion, you couldn't help but steal glances at Mattheo. His focused expression, the way his brow furrowed in concentration—it was mesmerizing.

But when he caught your eye, his lips curled into a smirk, you quickly averted your gaze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. You hated how easily he could get under your skin, how effortlessly he could turn you into a blushing mess.

As the lesson progressed, tension simmered between you, fueled by a series of snide remarks and sarcastic jabs. You couldn't understand why the curly headed boy insisted on pushing your buttons, why he seemed determined to antagonize you at every turn.

Finally, unable to contain your frustration any longer when he blatantly ignored your instructions to slice the flubberworms instead of crushing them, you spoke up, your voice laced with annoyance. "Do you have to be so insufferable all the time, Riddle?"

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a full-fledged grin. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your delicate feelings, sweetheart?"

Your jaw clenched at the condescending tone in his voice. "You know what? Forget it. I don't know why I bother."

The tension in the air crackled between you like static electricity, each word adding fuel to the fire of your growing frustration. Mattheo's grin seemed to widen at your irritation, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Oh, come on," he taunted, leaning back in his chair with an infuriating nonchalance. "You know you love it when I rile you up."

You scoffed, unable to resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Yeah, because nothing gets me going like your insufferable attitude."

Mattheo's grin only widened more at your retort, his gaze locking with yours in a challenge. "Is that so? Well, forgive me for trying to make class a little more entertaining."

Your frustration boiled over at his flippant response, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out in a rush of anger. "There's a special place in hell reserved for you, Riddle."

For a moment, there was silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air between you. But then, to your surprise, Mattheo's laughter rang out, filling the classroom with its infectious warmth.

"A special place in hell for me?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "For me personally? Aw wow, that is so sweet."

You blinked in confusion, taken aback by his unexpected reaction. "I-I didn't mean..."

But Mattheo waved off your apology with a dismissive gesture, his grin never faltering. "Don't worry about it, pretty girl. I'll be sure to save you a seat right next to me."

You grumbled in embarrassment, cheeks burning at the pet name and the attention of the entire class now directed towards you. But as you turned your attention back to the potion instructions in front of you, you made up your mind to just ignore him being a prick and get your work done.

With a deep breath, you focused on the task at hand. As you carefully sliced the flubberworms according to the instructions, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

And when you finally finished the task, you held up the neatly sliced flubberworms mockingly, meeting Mattheo's gaze with a defiant glare.

"There," you said, your voice tinged with satisfaction. "Done correctly."

Mattheo's smirk faltered for just a moment, surprise flickering in his eyes before he recovered, his grin returning in full force.

"Congratulations," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You managed to follow basic instructions. Color me impressed."

You scowled at his dismissive tone, mumbling more to yourself than to him. “Something you’re unable to do, apparently.”

As the class continued, you focused on your work, stealing glances at Mattheo when you thought he wasn't looking. Each time, you found him doing the same, his expression unreadable but his eyes betraying a hint of curiosity.

It was a strange dance you and Mattheo were engaged in—bickering one moment, stealing glances the next. But beneath the facade of sarcasm and pride, there was something else brewing between you.

And as the class came to an end and you gathered your belongings, making your way out of the classroom, you couldn't resist one last glance at him. And to your surprise, you found him already looking back at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the two of you yet.

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cno-inbminor · 1 year

Text

repertum

plot: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise // ft. lumine and nahida

warnings: afab!reader, 3.4 spoilers, smut but reader and alhaitham get blue balled, angst, fluff and comfort later. probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics.

a/n: :)))))

EDIT: Part 2 (FINAL) | AO3 Link

“I don’t–” You rush out before your breath hitches. “-- think this is a good idea, ah–”

Alhaitham keeps you pinned to the wall of your apartment, pelvis undulating against yours in an erratic beat. He drinks in every gasp that leaves your pretty little mouth, the same lips that have haunted his passing thoughts for the past month. His fingers dig into your waist and he leaves subcutaneous blooming sore spots on your shoulder and collarbone, relishing in your hisses of pain and pleasure, if the grip you have around his neck is any indicator.

Your words send a spike of adrenaline – he vehemently denies the possibility it may be fear instead – through his veins, to do anything to keep you right where he wants you, and he gives into the primal urge to dig his teeth into the very shoulder he’s been nibbling and sucking onto for the last ten minutes. The resulting yelp from you keeps him sated, and he places a soft kiss where he’d bitten you; a stark contrast.

Alhaitham lifts his head to look into your eyes, pupils swallowing over your irises and your eyelids half-open. He takes pride in having been able to push you towards such a state of inhibitions. “And what would make you think such a thing?” His lips ask against yours, tone dark with an alarming amount of clarity that you find absolutely unfair and unjust.

Despite his protests, there are several reasons why this isn’t a good idea. To be a scholar and also involved with the Akademiya’s former scribe? You’re practically begging to be academically slaughtered by the masses, as everyone knows Alhaitham has the ears of the General Mahamatra and, at times, Lord Kusanali herself. It goes both ways – having always been regarded as the level-headed, purely rational individual, most would agree that his current actions are the complete opposite. Those traits themselves are a recipe for disaster – sure, you could be witty and hold your own, but it was clear to you that you could not give him what he needs, he neither for you.

The sexual tension between you two is palpable. You briefly remember the day you first exchanged words with the man right before his new promotion. Both of you had reached for the same textbook one early, early morning, and being that it was the only copy in the entire library, you were determined to get your hands on it.

“I believe my hand was here first,” you said in a matter-of-fact tone. Part of you was screaming at yourself for even thinking about going against Alhaitham in any way, but this research paper is due next week and you will not let anyone hinder your progress. “I can give it to you when I’m done with it.”

Annoyance with a hint of amusement had crossed his features as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, the action drawing your gaze. The man had always been a great distance from you, but now seeing him up close, you can understand why some of the other scholars made it a point to mention just how attractive this man was. The brains, brawn, and looks all in a single individual? The archons were quite unfair, if you had anything to say about it.

“I believe the scholars understand they should not hinder any work of mine. It would be best for me to take it, and I will return it once I no longer need it.”

You wanted to wipe the smugness of his face. With a kiss or with a book thrown at him, you don’t care to differentiate – but the confidence he exuded was starting to irritate you, and you ignore the beginnings of an unwanted heat swirling in your core. “Well if the Scribe would so kindly lend it to me, I only need it for the next 36 hours and it will be all yours afterward. Surely your work can wait for that long?”

He took a step towards you to level with your impertinent gaze. Part of you thought you had had the higher ground, granted you were standing on a step ladder so you could reach the book, but you then saw that even with the extra centimeters, you were simply at about the same height as the man. Again, unfair.

“What is your name?” He interrogated.

“What is it to you?” You snapped back. If he really wanted to, he could demand to see your student identification credentials. But part of him wanted to hold back, to watch you bend to his will.

“I may consider granting you your wish if I can learn of your identity.”

The look of surprise on your face had been the beginning of his downfall. Normally the other scholars would have cowered beneath his presence by now. Yet the little spurts of fight from you had elicited some excitement from within, a feeling he hadn’t felt in quite a bit of time. Such emotions were for the weak for they clouded one’s judgment and logic.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will take this and, once again, will return it when I am done with it.”

He outstretched his hand to lay his claim on the book’s spine, fingers pressing gently against yours that were still adamant in your pursuit. Both of you made it a point to ignore how the touch made goosebumps form on your arm, thankfully hidden underneath your clothes. The Akademiya’s Scribe knowing you by name never boded well, but it was 2AM and you were perhaps too desperate.

In a state of unfounded confidence and irrationality, your fingers moved to intertwine with his. Watching his jawline slack the slightest bit fueled you, and you dragged your hands off the shelf and pressed them against his chest. With it, you leaned into the bounds of his personal space, using everything you had left in you to keep his eyes on you. Perhaps his pupils had become dilated, you can’t remember at this point, but it was enough distraction for you to use your other hand to snatch the book from its confines between other hardcovers. Once acquired, you disentangled from his grasp and took hurried steps off the step-ladder, clutching the book to your chest. You backpedaled some decimeters away to create some much needed distance. Alhaitham seemed stunned into silence. Or perhaps he was plotting your murder.

“(Y/N).”

And before you disappeared around the corner, he called out to warn, “I will see you in 36 hours.”

For many weeks afterwards, he made it a point to alert you of his presence whenever you were in the Akademiya’s building. If you were furiously annotating notes from multiple annals spread across your table, he would saunter by and subtly brush his cape against your clothes. If you were simply reading for pleasure, a knee pulled up into your chest because fuck Akademiya propriety, he would make sure to sit at the table across yours and in a chair on the side facing you head on. Did he let himself stare at you too much, finding some enjoyment in watching your facial expressions as you read? Perhaps. If it was late at night and you looked incredibly stressed, he would invite himself to look over your shoulder and observe your information, only to point out some details and offer tidbits of advice. Sometimes you found yourself in deep, research-heavy conversations and got a taste of Alhaitham’s inner workings, which only made you want more.

Tonight after a big project, he invited you to a drink at Lambad’s Tavern, though it was under the guise of needing some help bringing food back for his roommate afterwards, and you were going there anyway. Tucked in the corner, you, aided by alcohol, had let your inhibitions fall. You would need to be passed out to not feel the heat and weight of his gaze on you for the entire night, and you found yourself reveling in it. Yet it didn’t make sense – why would he find an interest in you, out of all the people within Sumeru? Alhaitham could have his pick of anyone, yet he decided to put his eggs in a basket with your name and face on it.

The thoughts stewed inside, even as he made a nonchalant offer to walk you to your apartment. “It is late, and you have no means to defend yourself.” That had been the end of it as he walked towards the path leading to the outskirts of the city, and you had no choice but to follow. At your doorstep, underneath a waning gibbous and cloudy skies, Alhaitham’s body language communicated his hesitancy in leaving you alone for the night, and with a swallow, you had invited him in for a cup of coffee.

He gave a nod. The door clicked shut. And as soon as your eyes with hints of lust met his, he made his move – surging forward to pull you into a kiss, and then spinning to press you against the wall with his thighs slotted between yours. The faint, yet unbridled moan for just mere kisses made his chest swell, and he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip.

“It’s just not – Haitham – a good idea,” you pant, thoughts back in the present moment.

“I disagree,” he retaliates, pulling back to remove your shirt. The rate of his disappearing self-control only increases when he does everything to commit this moment to memory. You’re so beautiful, he laments, torn between wanting to maintain the sanctity of your figure and forcing you to succumb and accept his attempts to claim you. He wants you to feel his kisses and bites for days, so you would never forget and inevitably crave his touch.

You don’t want to argue with him now, not when you finally have him in your hands. Your lips desperately meet his again as you unclip your bra and shrug it off. He follows suit and undoes his cape so he can pull his sleeveless shirt over his head, groaning when he pulls you close and his bare skin takes in the heat emanating from yours. Feeling your hardened nipples slide against his pectorals should not be so alluring, yet he finds himself wishing you two could stay in bed for eternity, naked and entwined and drunk on each others’ touch.

Fingers dig into his silver-gray locks and tugs, to which he answers with a punishing nip on your neck. “Bedroom,” you plead so prettily and he can only let you draw back to lead the way. He wastes little time in pressing forward until the back of your legs hit the bed frame, causing you to fall back. From mere kisses and heavy petting, the look on your face is already so sinful, and Alhaitham can’t help but imagine how you’d look once his cock was inside you.

“You siren and minx,” he sighs in faux displeasure, planting gentle pecks down your chest and abdomen until he hovers over the band of your pants. He tugs them and your underwear down with the aid of your lifted hips – and doesn’t miss the glossy thread of your slick from your vulva to the damp cotton. When it eventually breaks, he feels twinges of regret for not being able to catch it on his tongue and have a taste of you, like a man dying of thirst in the desert.

His hands have a firm grip underneath your thighs and pushes them towards your chest. Alhaitham curses when he has the full view of your pussy, puffy and wet and demanding any attention. “Haitham, please,” and you sound like you’re on the verge of tears.

“Hmm?” His voice teases as his fingers spread and his thumbs are so, so close to where you want them to be. Your pitiful cry is answered with– “Use your words. You surely have never had a problem with that.”

You beat a fist against his chest in retaliation, though there is little to no force behind it. The pathetic attempt at communicating your embarrassment is not lost on you.

Yet despite the heated blood in your veins, the near desperation to climb this high, your heart stills at the smirk sitting devilishly on his lips. You suddenly become hyperaware of every part of your body that he is seeing and touching, and the rational part of your brain returns once more to remind you, again, that this is not going to end well.

In the years that Alhaitham has roamed and trudged through the hierarchy and floors of the Akademiya, everybody knows he is not one for intimate relationships, whether it be deeper friendships or romantic partnerships. So for him to spend his precious free time with an ordinary scholar such as you, no legacy or prestige to your name – it made no sense. You are more than ready to understand that if this night were to run its due course, the end result would be the same if it were to never happen.

The dread that settles into Alhaitham’s body is murky and viscous as he watches sobering clarity fill your system, most noticeably in your eyes. Irises expanding, pupils shrinking, the life and spark from earlier swept away, don’t make much sense to him as you gently remove yourself from his grasp. “Y/N?” He inquires with some of the most uncertainty he’s felt in the last ten or so years. Adrenaline dissolves into veiled panic as he watches you slip on a new pair of underwear and an oversized sleep shirt.

“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling too well,” you supply in a meek voice, looking around and eventually finding his shirt from earlier. The man appears as dumbfounded as he can behind such a blank and austere face such as his, pulling the material back over his head and looping his arms through in a trance. He doesn’t remember following after you but finds himself back in your living room where his cloak had been haphazardly thrown onto the ground. With the way you slide it over his shoulders and make no mistake in securing it properly, he feels as if ice cold water has been dumped over his head.

And then you’re both at the front door and all he knows in this precise moment is that he really, really doesn’t want to leave.

“Thank you again for the drink,” you say, voice cracking near the end and gaze avoiding his at all costs. “You didn’t have to.”

Alhaitham chooses to say nothing, and despite how much the inner turmoil is wrecking your nervous system, you know this is for the best.

Right?

“Did I do anything wrong?”

Yes. No. Of course. Not at all. Maybe.

“No, I just don’t feel well. Maybe the alcohol isn’t agreeing with me.”

At the same time you twist the doorknob and pull, you stand on your tiptoes to plant a shaky kiss against his cheek.

“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”

It’s clear that he’s being banished now, door wide and a clear signal for him to leave. While he may want to slam the door back closed and demand all the answers he needs to the sudden change in your behavior, he simply nods and steps over the threshold, pausing when he fully steps into the hallway. The man doesn’t have the gall to face you straight on, but he lets you take one last look at his side profile, eyes glancing briefly over his shoulder.

“Have a better lie next time.”

This is for the best, you repeat to yourself minutes later when you’re curled underneath your blankets.Your breath shudders as the tears begin to stain your pillowcase, and before you slip into a fitful slumber, you worry about what dreams will greet you.

Alhaitham doesn’t see you for a whole week.

For seven agonizing days, 108 frustration-ridden hours, you are nowhere to be found or seen, as if you decided to hole up in your apartment and never leave your own self-made prison. It’s embarrassing, to a certain degree, just how much he’s been around the library, constantly on the lookout for your figure. Kaveh caught him reading the same page of a history book for at least ten minutes on one of those days, but chose to keep his mouth shut for once and snarky remarks to himself.

On day 8, Alhaitham wonders if he’s begun to hallucinate when he sees you in plain view at the market stand, attempting to barter with the owner to get a better deal on some vegetables. But it’s your voice he hears, your hands he sees, your hair that makes his fingers twitch in a thinly-veiled hidden desire to run them through. He’s left standing in the middle of the street looking like an idiot, yet others perceive his heavy gaze upon your figure to assume that you’re about to get into some trouble and the General Mahamatra was calling in a favor of some sorts.

On day 11, he catches you running up the pathway that leads to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, which is bewildering and confusing in its entirety. What business do you have being anywhere near the residence of Lord Kusanali? Even he as the former Scribe, favored and the most unwilling Acting Grand Sage, and one of the saviors of the Dendro Archon, has not been there since the whole hubbub died down, and it’s been months.

On day 14, you run into the traveler who seems to be making her rounds of saying goodbye to various citizens. Alhaitham had spoken a number of times about her and her travels and you knew her next destination was Fontaine. Not far from home, but far enough away to rid yourself of all these ugly, human emotions and get over this huge crush on the aforementioned man. With unfounded confidence, you call for her attention with shaky breaths.

“Can I help you?” She questions softly, not missing the clear distress in your body.

“My name is Y/N and, um, I’m a scholar at the Akademiya. Though I guess my attire gave that away,” you laugh nervously, gesturing to said clothing. “I’m, uh, an acquaintance, I guess, of Haitham’s? Anyways, that’s not really important, but you’re going to Fontaine, right?”

Lumine nods and stays silent.

Well, here goes nothing. “This might sound really weird but…can I come with you?”

Perfect, golden eyebrows rise in surprise – it’s not everyday a mere stranger so brazenly asks to travel with her, especially to another nation.

“I have some research that is taking me there, but I’d prefer not to travel alone. I was going to leave soon, but just now when I heard you telling people goodbye, I thought I’d try to ask? I’ll pay for your help, and I can even help you find and cook food! Hopefully you don’t find a Vision-less person like me a burden but I promise I won’t get in the way.”

Lumine looks you up and down once more while her thoughts process. You look harmless and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have another set of hands along the way. Fontaine really wasn’t that far away once they crossed the border. It was becoming clearer to her that you truly did need to get to Fontaine, and not just for research. Perhaps –

“Could it be that you’re running from something?” She asks with curiosity.

“...wow, nothing really gets past you. It’s more like…someone,” you confess, sheepish and embarrassed.

“Are you in danger?”

“Not at all, no!” With hands waving in front of you, you speak with clear denial. “I’m trying to figure some things out and, well, I’d rather do it when I’m not constantly at risk of bumping into him.”

“Clearly I don’t know the details of your situation but…wouldn’t it be better to just be honest with him?”

You take a glance in the direction of the Akademiya and allow a bittersweet smile to grace your lips. “I think my honesty would simply be a burden for him.”

“And you know that because…?”

“Because he is that kind of man. There is no need for him to have a place for me in his heart. But I’m really bringing the mood down – could you please consider my offer? I forgot to mention I can be quite handy with a dagger if need be.”

Lumine and Paimon exchange a look, the fairy shrugging. “We leave tomorrow at first light,” the traveler speaks up. “Is that enough time for you to gather everything you need? If not, as long as we leave by midday, we don’t mind waiting.”

Perfect.

“It’s more than enough time. I pack light anyways.”

“We’ll meet in front of the Sanctuary then. Paimon and I need to meet with Lord Kusanali before we depart.”

You barely get any sleep that night, a ball of nerves and excitement. Your neighbor has been kind enough to hold your spare key to check in on your apartment every once in a while, waving you off when you begin to discuss forms of repayment for their generosity. The last time you ventured out of the main city and its surrounding areas was perhaps a few years ago to get a look at the famed Palace of Alcazarzaray. Alhaitham had briefly spoken of Kaveh a few times, though his tone was an odd amalgamation of genuine respect and scathing admonishment. In fact, you met the architect once when he came to the Akademiya to ask (more like loudly demand) for a copy of their house key. That was one of your first deep dives into how much of a teasing asshole Alhaitham could be, and you had already been spending most of your hours with him.

Fontaine has only ever been presented to you in sketches and paintings, so for a chance to see it in person…you can’t wait.

When your alarm goes off, you practically jump out of bed, throwing on your travel attire that you had set out the night before. With your research materials in a bag and travel essentials in another, you give one last look at your apartment. Who knows when you’ll be back?

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact smut #al haitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact angst

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space-helen · 29 days

Text

Silenced

Words: 1114

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

A/N: I know this has taken forever but I hope this is ok! (not proof read before releasing)

Request: Could you do something angsty for stephen strange, where he's working on researching some magic thing and his relationship with reader fell to the wayside as he's totally obsessed with whatever he's working on and anyway he gets more and more irritated and tells her to leave him alone and be quiet but for some accidental magic reasons he unintentionally made her mute. Then when everything's settled and his work/research is finished he assumed things would go back to normal but reader still isn't talking to him, he thinks he's getting the silent treatment for ignoring her while he was working but it's been weeks and she still hasn't said a word to him so he tries to talk to her about it and then he realises what he accidentally did and just angst and sadness pls, but like they work things out and stay together - Anon

______________________

"Y/N, please just leave me for a second" the man spoke totally exasperated. He'd been absorbed into new research for a couple of days now. He'd really planned to get it done quickly but with you interrupting consistently every hour he wasn't making as much progress as he'd have liked.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to make sure you were ok and didn't need anything"

"Y/N I love you, I really do but you're making this ten times harder with your constant interruptions. Just leave, It'll get done quicker and then we can spend more time together."

You were slightly hurt by the comment and felt a twang in your chest. You bowed your head "I'll come back with some dinner for you in a couple of hours" with that you quickly left. The man sighed and buried his head back into the book.

As promised you returned, nervous but hopeful the man was in a better mood. You'd seen him grumpy and mad before but He'd never been like this towards you so you knew it was serious.

You balanced the plate of food in one hand to knock the door before opening it. Allowing it to swing open you politely greeted you boyfriend but before you could say another word he quietly muttered something under his breath and absentmindedly gestured his hand towards you. You thought you saw some orange sparks but couldn't be sure.

Approaching his desk you placed down the plate but he continued to read the pages in front of him. You opened your mouth to say "here's the food I promised" You realised not a single sound came out. Tears instantly brimmed in your eyes and you turned on your heels to leave.

You'd seen him jokingly mute people before but quickly unmute them. But this? It felt like a punch to the gut. Had you really annoyed him so much that he'd done it to you? He'd promised from day one to never use magic on you unless it was to save your life yet here you were. Mute and unable to speak because of him.

Heading to your bedroom you sat on the edge of the bed. Somewhat still in denial that he'd done it you tried speaking to yourself but heard nothing. Letting the tears roll down your cheeks you lay down. He didn't mean it. He couldn't have. Yet he had been annoyed at your talking.

You’d busied yourself for the rest of the day. Hoping he’d be done soon and would come and find you to undo his magic. Walking through the corridors you could see the man in the distance talking to Wong. You gazed at him hopeful before he quickly spoke “Y/N it’s an overnight trip. We’ll be back in the morning.” and before you could even react he’d disappeared with Wong.

Defeated you sighed a noiseless sigh and continued on your way through the sanctum towards the bedroom. Sluggishly you moved around and found yourself resting your head on your pillow for sleep.

The next day was spent moving around the sanctum trying to busy yourself, thanking yourself that you’d pre-booked time off work because you didn’t know how you’d function without being able to speak. You knew Stephen had arrived back in the early hours of the morning but you’d continued with his wish and stayed out of his way.

What you hadn’t realised was the longing looks from the man every time he saw you move around that day. He was still busy wrapping things up but wanted nothing more than for you to interrupt him, and save him, from Wong.

Eventually the day was coming to a close and he made his way to bed. He could feel his muscles relaxing as he made his way to you. He’d wanted nothing more all day than to see you and hold you in his arms.

Coming into the bedroom he could see that you were reading, what was unusual though is that you didn’t look up from your book, like you usually would, when he came into the room. Plodding around the room he quickly got changed before pulling the covers up and getting into bed.

He sat for a moment before adjusting to get comfy. Not a single word from you? “Thank you for being patient with me. I’m sorry.” he moved to give you a kiss on your cheek but you moved away quickly and turned away from the man. Closing your book you went to put it on the nightstand.

His heart dropped, the silent treatment. He was seriously getting the silent treatment and it’d been that way all day and he hadn’t realised. He kicked himself internally.

“I’m sorry Y/N I really am but I promise not to be that way with you in the future. I just had Wong breathing down my neck about the work and how important it was and the emergency at hand. I understand if you’re giving me the silent treatment. I love you, I know I messed up.”

You turned back to the man and tried to reply in the heat of the moment, forgetting about the fact that no volume would come out.

The man looked at you confused for a second. “Say something again.”

You did as he wished and you could see his features tense up “Someone muted you?” he quickly moved his hands and undid the spell. “You weren’t giving me the silent treatment? Who did this? What happened? Who do I need to go and speak to?”

You could see the anger bubbling up within him but you just stared at the man puzzled. “Wait.” the man stopped and looked at you “do you seriously not know?”

The man gave a very small and slight shake of his head.

“You did. When I came in yesterday to give you food.”

His eyes widened and he froze “I’m so sorry.” his words were slow and he brought his eyes to yours and found your hands with his “I’m so incredibly sorry. I didn’t even realise. I promise to never do it again. If something like that happens you have to come and let me know.”

You nodded, you could see that the man didn’t truly mean it and you couldn’t hold a grudge against him. “It’s ok. Just promise to actually communicate with me next time as well instead of just telling me to go away.”

He nodded and brought your hands to his mouth to place a gentle kiss to them. “Anything Y/N. Anything.”

With that you happily accepted his embrace when he opened his arms to you.

Tag List: (open)

All: @perasperaadastrawriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @trippol-threat @captainsophiestark

MCU: @coffeeandcrimeshows @spunky-89 @heyitsaloy @captainsophiestark @discocactusblogs @butchers-girl

#mcu x reader #stephen strange x reader #dr strange x reader #marvel x reader

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blurredpurplemint · 6 months

Note

Ooo can u do jealous bi han scenario/one shot?

i didn’t have inspiration at first but it suddenly came to me, like, ok why not. was supposed to be short but is kinda more than i anticipated (0.4k words). lot of dialogue cuz i suck at description lol. not proof read (will do it later, maybe, i’m tired, its 3 am, i have school, i’m talking way too much, gn)

───────────────────────────

you've been tasked with organizing the cleaning tools and supplies as it's your responsibility to take care of cleaning the backyard today.

while absorbed in the task, you failed to notice someone entering the room.

“so this where you were…”

caught off guard, you dropped what you were holding.

“by the gods! you- wait. how did you know i was there?”

“unimportant.”

you sighed as you picked up what you had dropped.

“i swear you almost scared me to death…”

“death may be imminent for you depending on your answer to my oncoming question.”

you paused, reflecting on his words with closed eyes and furrowed brows, then shook your head.

“ok… what have i done?”

you replied as you continued with your task.

“don't assume I overlooked your actions with that foolish monk.”

you quickly turned around to gauge his expression, and you could discern his anger beneath the mask. the least you could said was that you were doomed.

“who? raiden?”

“the other foolish monk.”

in an instant, everything made sense in your thoughts.

“ohhhh… kung lao! haha…”

“is this amusing to you?”

“it's just that... i don't understand what you're accusing me of.”

“quit feigning ignorance; you know exactly what I'm referring to.”

you huffed.

“if only!”

you pivoted entirely to confront him.

“why not be more direct about what I've done wrong? it could help us make progress. just saying.”

“what was the reason for him holding you earlier?”

“ohhhh…”

you recalled the events from this morning.

“explain.”

you waved your hand at him, dispelling his concerns.

“it was nothing; i just lightly twisted my ankle, that's all.”

“what?”

he nearly rushed to you, but you halted him in his tracks.

“bi-han, i said "lightly." it was truly nothing, just a slight twinge of pain. that's why kung lao got a bit carried away and assisted me.”

he huffed, swiftly raising his chin in disdain.

“he didn't just assist; he practically enveloped you.”

“if you had witnessed the entire scene, you would have observed me leaping out of his arms.”

“i should consider tearing his arms off for this.”

“huuum, sexy~”

“alright, I'm done dealing with your attitude.”

you began to laugh at his irritated expression, prompting a deadly glare from him. he then turned away to leave.

“oh come on! don't give me the cold shoulder now!”

you spoke amid laughter.

he halted, slowly pivoting to cast upon you the most exasperated expression.

“oop- no pun intended!”

his sigh was so deep and prolonged it caused the room temperature to plummet by at least five degrees which elicited a shiver from you.

you shrugged apologetically, wearing a sorry smile, and approached him slowly. softly chuckling, you ran your hand over his torso, eliciting an eye roll of annoyance from him due to your feeble attempts to soothe his nerves. he subtly made sure you weren't limping.

“don't be upset with me. you're well aware that I have no interest in him.”

he didn't respond but glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow, prompting a smile from you. you couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

“you are incredibly cute when jealousy surfaces, grandmaster.”

“i am not.”

“oh yes, you are!”

you spoke as you gently tapped his torso.

“whatever you stance, i’ll leave you to it. i have duties to fulfill.”

he said as he walked past you, intentionally bumping into you to clear his way. you let out a small whine in response to his abruptness.

“bi-han! we are not done here!”

“in my perspective, we are.”

you sighed, crossing your arms. you knew he was thickheaded before, but now he's just downright childish.

you watched him leave, but he suddenly halted in his tracks and spoke without turning back.

“i will meet you tonight… we’ll dine out.”

you gasped in excitement, placing your hand over your mouth to suppress your laughter.

“ow… you big softie <3”

he grunted and shook his head, immediately regretting his statement.

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holylulusworld · 8 months

Text

Breathless

Summary: Dream a little dream…or shit…

Summary: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Secret crush

Warnings: angst, language, Bucky being an awful boss (mentioned), enemies to lovers, tension, daydreams, secret crush, fear of flying (implied)

Words: 1440+

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C5: Remote control

Square filled for @sebastianstanbingo: Square 10: Sexual frustration

Square filled for @allcapsbingo: G 4: “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

Square filled for @marvelfluffbingo (expired): Square 19: office au

Part 1

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Miss Y/N to my office,” Bucky barks. “I think we should talk about a few things…”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Barnes?” You are still a little shaken from the naughty dream you woke from moments ago and struggle to look him in the eyes. You only pray you didn’t talk in your sleep.

“I need you to come with me,” he casually says. “Tomorrow. On a business trip.”

“Tomorrow?” You splutter. “But…I didn’t pack, and I don’t know where we are going. Why do you tell me about this so late?”

“It’s a case of emergency. Stark wants to do business with one of my business associates. I need you there to distract him so I can make the deal with Barton.”

“You want me to distract Tony Stark? How? Do you want me to give him a lap dance or more?” while you cross your arms over your chest, and glare at your boss, the man himself still looks proud of his idea.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re not too bad to look at and you are good at making conversation. I want you to go home, pack a few things, and meet me at the airport at 7 o'clock sharp,” he demands. “Don’t run late.”

“I never ran late in all the years I’m working for you. But… tomorrow is my day off! I had had plans, and you just tell me I must go on a business trip.”

“You can take a day off after any other day, Ms. Y/L/N. I need you and I won’t ask again.”

You huff. He didn’t ask but demanded your obedience. Mr. Barnes doesn’t understand your irritation or that you’re angry at him. In his opinion, he gives you the perfect opportunity to prove your worth as his assistant.

“7 o'clock sharp, no discussion,” he snaps at you. “You are my assistant and will do as told. I need you at the airport tomorrow morning.”

It’s situations like this leaving you helpless and struggling. You should tell him, no, and to fuck off. But this would mean losing your job. Mr. Barnes is not being reasonable, and he knows it.

You’re fuming but can’t do shit about it. So, once again, you give in to someone else’s demands and swallow the words you’ve got on the tip of your tongue.

“Fine.” You turn around to storm out of Mr. Barnes’ office. If you stay for longer, you’ll slap the smug grin off his handsome face.

Morning came much too soon. You’re in the worst mood ever, and tired as fuck. On top of all, you dreamed of the smug fucker named James Buchanan Barnes again.

This time, he fucked you on top of the printer and plastered the copies of your ass all over the office. He was into degrading you in your dreams and it made you horny as hell. Sadly, you didn't have the time to take care of the problem. Now you are tired, cranky, and frustrated because you didn't get off.

“You made it in time, a progress,” Mr. Barnes dares to say. In the four years you’re working for him, you only once didn’t make it in time.

“I’m always on time.” Your boss ignores you sassed back. “So, where are we going? I still need to get my ticket.”

“What are you wearing?” Mr. Barnes shoves his sunglasses down his nose, looking you up and down. He almost looks offended by your styling. “Are you wearing sweatpants and a Hello Kitty t-shirt? Where are your shoes?”

“It’s casual Friday, Mr. Barnes,” you feign ignorance. “I didn’t know we’ve got a dress code for a flight. I don’t think people in economy class will judge my choice of clothing. I want to be at least comfortable if I’m stuck in an airplane with two people for hours. And I got shoes on. Flip-lops.”

“Economy class?” He takes his sunglasses off. “I hate to disappoint you, by you are going to enjoy only my presence. I already got your ticket.” Mr. Barnes smirks. “I wonder if people in the first class will like your outfit.”

“Stop fidgeting,” Mr. Barnes mutters. You’re always nervous before take-off and can't sit still. You are gripping your remote control tightly with your right hand and press it to your chest. “Why in the world did you bring a remote control?”

He watches you stare down at your feet. “It calms me. When I got scared at night, I grabbed something to hold tight onto. If it happens now, I use the remote control from the TV in my bedroom.”

“Hmm…interesting,” oddly, his features soften, and he grabs your left hand. “If you are scared, squeeze my hand. It’s better than the remote control.”

“I didn’t know you can be nice too.” You glance at your boss. “Thank you.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he replies sharply as if you offended him with your words. “In my world, you must be hard and strict. I can’t attend a business trip in flip-flops and a Hello Kitty shirt.”

You feel insecure out of a sudden. At the airport, you felt self-confident, but now, you feel like a fool. “I wanted to be comfortable. I didn’t know I’d end up in the first class.”

Mr. Barnes doesn’t reply. He waits for the take-off and thinks of the deal he wants to seal with Barton. “You should try to get some sleep after the take-off and redress at the hotel. We don’t have much time until the first meeting.”

“Okay,” you focus on breathing, and the warm hand holding yours. Your boss can be an ass, but right now he grounds you and helps you not to be scared anymore.

“Mr. Barton,” you politely shake Clint Barton’s hand. He smiles in return and asks you about your flight. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he holds your hand a little too long for Mr. Barnes’ liking. Your boss sneers, and he squares his jaw when you giggle at something Clint said.

“Clint, we should get going. I have a few more meetings this afternoon. Can we talk about the deal now, or not?” You quirk a brow at your boss.

“Shall we, Ms. Y/L/N,” Clint smirks at your boss. “We don’t want Bucky to get impatient, right?”

“Right,” you nod. “We should talk about the deal and the upcoming contract. I checked on the numbers, and you’ll see that Barnes Inc. is the perfect partner.”

Mr. Barnes dips his head to look at you. He looks impressed and nods his head in approval.

“Well said, Ms. Y/L/N.”

The meeting dragged on. Your boss and Clint talked about every single detail while you tried to keep up with them and take notes. Or at least look interested when they started talking about cars, and investments.

While they sealed the deal of the century, their words not yours, you wondered why Tony Stark didn’t show.

Now that you think about it, neither your boss nor Mr. Barton mentioned Tony Stark.

“Perfect,” your boss exclaims. He and Mr. Barton shake hands, as you are still thinking about the things Mr. Barnes told you. “Ms. Y/L/N, are you ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

“We earned dinner, didn’t we?” Mr. Barnes asks, taking you by surprise. He furrows his brows as you don’t answer immediately. “Italian, Indian, or Asian. What do you want to eat?”

“Okay,” your heart flutters when he holds out his hand to take the iPad and folder out of your hands. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

He grins. “Remember, you asked for this…”

“A hot dog,” you giggle. “I thought you wanted to dine tonight, boss.” You don’t mind your boss’s choice. You love a good hotdog.

“Y/N, that’s the best hotdog in the world. And for tonight, call me Bucky. We are officially off duty and got the deal done,” he grins before taking a huge bite of the hotdog. He smears mustard all over his face, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got something…wait,” you use the napkin to clean his face, making things worse as you smear the mustard all over his cheek. “Sorry…let me get a tissue.”

“Not bad, but there are better ways to clean my lips…” Your heart beats out of your chest when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. “You didn’t think I brought you here to flirt with Stark, right?”

“What? I-“You pinch your arm to check if you are dreaming again. “What?”

“Doll, I think we should talk about a few things after we finished the hot dog…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #buckybarnesbingo2023 #sebastianstanbingo #bucky barnes x reader #ceo!bucky barnes x reader #office au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #kinktober vs flufftober 2023

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babiebom · 5 months

Text

When You Fall (VIII)

A/N: i got the sweetest message from someone(idk if they’d want me to call them out) and somehow it made me want to start on this chapter so I guess it literally just takes someone being nice for me to actually do something lmao. Also happy new year!! Also also whenever I’m writing one of these chapters and the tumblr notif shows up it jumpscares me. Like how do y’all know?

Tw: depression, reader decides to force themself to be happy, cursing. The usual

Wc:3.0k

Previous Next Masterlist

Sweat dripped from your forehead as you attempted to clear some of the farm from debris. It was taking long to clear everything, and though you knew that most of the land would be unused until you actually got enough money to plant more things and get a coop or barn.

Shadow ran around wildly, barking happily as she snapped her teeth at the air. It’s funny, watching her as she runs. Getting pets didn’t make being in a depressive pit completely go away, but they did make that pit less dark, less daunting and lonely. Mango lazed around on the porch, his tail slowly waving side to side as he watched you.

Sticking your rake into the ground and wiping the sweat again, you grin at your animals, letting out a labored breath. “Okay, so, I love you both very very much. And I’m sorry that I can’t take you but they’re hosting an Egg Festival in the town and I’m going.”

You move to sit on the porch, Shadow dashing to crash onto your lap. You open your arms and let her move her big body onto you with a roll. “And I swear I’m not going to enjoy being away from you both, but I have to go as part of my healing. I’ll be back soon.” Neither one of them did anything other than stare at you and then go about their own business as you get up and head inside to shower. Shadow trails behind you after a moment, her tail wagging so hard her butt wiggles along with it. You take one last glance at her as you finally get in the shower, hoping the day goes by quickly.

Walking into the town’s square, it’s like a decorating bomb went off. There are banners and decorative flags and other things littered around in a way that made you think whoever decorated spent way too long out here only for them to be messed up by the wind. There’s so many layers of tape that you feel irritated for whoever had to fix it.

“Farmer!” Pierre calls out from behind his booth. You want to ignore him, not really ready for social interaction but go over to him anyways. Forcing a smile onto your lips you lean on the booth counter, looking at the things he has stocked.

Some strawberry seeds, lawn flamingos, plants, a painting, a bright pink banner, a plush bunny, and a….decorative pitchfork? What kind of stock is this? What does this have to do with the egg festival? You blink a couple times and attempt to control the look on your face, maybe you could buy a couple of strawberry seeds. Even if you don’t plant them this season you can always wait. “Hey Pierre! Selling some good stuff?”

He smiles and moves his hand around, gesturing to his stock. “Yeah, looking to buy anything?”

“Sure…a couple strawberry seed packets…and that plush bunny.”

“It’s pretty cute huh? Okay that’ll be 2,500g.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. 2,500g? The man has to be insane! What the fuck costed so much that you were being charged this much? “Yeah, prices are a little steep. But I have to make a living somehow,” he chuckles when he sees your expression. You try hard to keep your face in check, not wanting to snap on the man in front of everyone. You were here to make progress, not to make enemies.

After giving him the money you take your new things and stuff them into your backpack. The letter said the festival ended at two, and looking at your watch it was only 9:30. That meant 4 and a half more hours of agony trying to force yourself out of a depressive pit that you aren’t really all too sure you’re ready to leave just yet for the sake of getting better.

Well, at least there’s food…

Hurrying along, the sight of the buffet table makes your mouth water. Not eating breakfast and working all morning in a large field without totally knowing what to do is a bad idea, but now that you’re looking at all the different types of food you can’t help but praise yourself for how lucky starving yourself got you. Now you can eat, then when you get home you can pass out and sleep until tomorrow. Like another rest day that feels like a reward after running around in the dirt.

As you fill your plate with food, you can see Gus and what’s his name…’Clive?’ You think to yourself, nose scrunching in confusion, ‘No, that's a stupid name. Carl? It has to be Carl…what other C names are there?’ In your thoughts you almost drop your plate and gain the attention of the two men, Gus smiles brightly and waves you over while the other man averts his eyes. Weird…

“Hey Gus!” You smile warmly at the older man. There was a twinge of stress in his eye, but it seemed rude to point that out to him. His eyes moved over the rows and rows of food and it occurs to you that he must have cooked almost everything himself being the Towns Saloon owner and all.

“Hey farmer! I was just telling Clint here…you’ve met Clint right?”

You shake your head at his question. You had only seen him around maybe once and heard his name in passing from the blue haired girl who was talking to him when you passed by and from Maru when you were in the clinic. Thank Yoba Gus said his name or you would’ve been stood awkwardly just like you are but more so because you wouldn’t have known his name. “Oh well, he’s the towns blacksmith…anyways I was just telling him how I hope everyone’s enjoying the food. I’ve been cooking for days to get the food ready.”

“Days? Wow thats a lot of work…”

“Yeah I made fried eggs, boiled eggs, poached eggs, deviled eggs, scrambled eggs, chocolate eggs, you name it!”

“I mean it is the Egg Festival…”

“Yeah, not to mention the other foods. I’d be upset if it turned out horribly.”

You take a bite of whatever was on your plate in front of him, trying to make a show of how good it is, but not really needing to act because WOW can this man cook. How’d he even make this? His eyes light up at your expressions and mannerisms, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of you enjoying the food. “No Gus, I swear this is amazing! You don’t need to worry about anyone not enjoying the food at all!”

“Thank you for the kind words, Farmer, it means a lot to me.”

You nod vigorously, not wanting to ignore him but now overcome with the urge to stuff down as much of the food as you can. What the fuck was in this? Drugs? You can’t even remember the last time you were this hungry.

With your plate you walk around, smiling at anyone who talks to you, and try to carry on conversations that you didn’t really care much about. It had been weeks since you moved here, and you were just now meeting everyone personally. There were so many people living here in Pelican Town that you wonder how you had managed to avoid 60 percent of them whenever you ventured out.

As you make your rounds to the buffet table for the second time, the sight of a bright red cape catches your eye and the man with the eyepatch flashes in your mind. You hadn’t seen him since that day, but you had to find out what those stupid jelly things are.

“Marlon!” You call out, rushing to the man in the corner. He looked surprised that you were speaking to him, but made no moves to walk away or ignore you. Instead he looked slightly pleased. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

His eyebrows quirk up in amusement, “I could say the same about you, don’t hear anything about you going around.”

You shrug and realize that just as much as you stick to your farm, he must stick to the caves and mountains. Neither bad, but awfully lonely when you think about it. You wonder if there’s anyone he lives with up there. “I just thought that you would prefer to be adventuring or something…like in the caves?”

“Yeah, but even with my bad leg I never miss a festival.”

“Oh…say you know down in the caves how there are…things right?”

“Yeah the monsters?”

“Yeah um, have you ever seen the little Jello creatures? They’re really tiny and all but are like really strong for some reason, and jump at you like they’re legless spiders?”

“The slimes? Yeah you have to be careful with them. They might be easy to defeat but can quickly overwhelm you if you’re not careful.”

He frowns at you and you swallow. That’s exactly what had happened. The stupid things were just too much the more you ventured down. But you’d be ready for them next time, and whatever else is down there. “Yeah, they kinda kicked my ass last time I went into the caves.”

He nods solemnly, as if he could relate. Maybe he could relate, having a bad leg and an injured eye and living up there. There had probably been times that he’s gotten overwhelmed and hurt. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. If he could get hurt down there, and you have already been hurt, who’s to say that you won’t just die the next time you go down? It’s weird to think just how lucky you truly were when you were saved.

Thinking of being saved…your eyes flit around quickly trying to spot the man that had saved your life. Maru and Sam had said that Sebastian had gone down into the caves himself to save you, and even though you hadn’t seen him personally since meeting in the Saloon, the need to thank him was always in the back of your mind. And now you have the chance, Yoba you wished you were home.

You bid goodbye to Marlon and shuffled your way to the trio standing off at the bottom of the town’s square. Rehearsing what you’re going to say in your head, you hope that it would be a quick conversation, that you wouldn’t stutter over your words and that you wouldn’t act so awkward that they think you’re weirder than you are. But as you clear your throat as you walk up to them, regret settles in your belly at the looks on their faces. It was like being in school all over again and the kids that you thought were cool were too tight knit as a group and hated outsiders.

Before you could say anything Abigail speaks first, staring straight at you. “Do you think I’m too old to do the Egg Hunt?”

You frown at her in confusion before shaking your head. “No?”

She punches Sebastian’s arm as soon as the word leaves your mouth. “Ha! I told you I wasn’t too old. It’s like, why stop if I’m having fun?”

“How are you having fun searching for eggs with actual children?”

“Hey! Searching for eggs is like going on a treasure hunt! Besides, your sister does it too!”

Sebastian rolls his eyes at her, looking towards the river without saying anything more, choosing to sip on the punch in his cup. Sam looks like he’s suffering and you tilt your head, silently questioning him. “Ugh…it’s my doze…allergies.” His nose is so stuffed up that his words seem heavy. You wince at him and nod in understanding, Springtime wasn’t the best for people with allergies.

Sebastian clears his throat after a minute. “You know what I miss? The rotten egg toss.”

Both Sam and Abigail agree quickly, words coming out both of their mouths too quickly for you to really understand anything they’re saying. They’re very enthusiastic about it, recounting things that happened in previous years. In your confusion you look over at Sebastian, and he swallows his drink quickly. “We used to do a rotten egg toss, a couple years ago. It was only for like two years, Mayor Lewis put an end to it pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, too many people complained that it stunk.” Abigail laughed. It sounded pretty fun, tossing rotten eggs at a target or something, but the smell…ugh.

Before you could say anything else, Sam says he’s going to get more food before the egg hunt starts and they put everything away. Abigail looks between you and Sebastian and smiles. “I’ll go with him, either of you want anything?”

You shake your head, plate still full from the second round. “Maybe some punch? If it’s not too much trouble?” She shrugs and looks at Sebastian who just hands her his cup. She leaves without another word and without turning back. Ha…now it’s awkward…

“I didn’t think you were one for socializing.”

You’re surprised at his words, but think that in a small town there are rarely secrets. Everyone must know that you’re suffering. “Yeah um, just had a bad couple of weeks. I’m better now, though, ready to mingle and become part of the town…being alone is no good.”

He snorts, glancing at you and your heart stutters in your chest. Did he think you were joking? Were you that obvious in your dislike of talking to others? “Yeah sure…been there once.”

You don’t ask him what he means, understanding that he’s seeing right through your fake chipper exterior. For a minute the silence stretches on, but it’s not as tense and awkward as it was before. Maybe it was a good thing he could tell you were faking, there was no need now that it was only you two. “Y’know I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

“For?” He sounds disinterested, but when you look at his face he seems more…uncomfortable.

“You saving me? Your friends told me you went down into the caves to get me.”

“Fucking…yeah. It was no problem. You should be more careful, though, I was only able to help because I noticed that you didn’t come up.”

“Yeah…I really should…anyways. Thanks for saving me, hopefully you won’t have to do it again.”

He shrugs and says nothing.

“I owe you one.”

“Sure.”

The mayor claps his hands loudly, speaking into a megaphone that he’s holding. “If anyone is participating in the egg hunt, gather round. It’s almost time to begin!”

“You participating?” He asks, and for a second you almost say no before remembering that the whole point of coming was to become part of the community and bettering yourself.

“Yeah…you?”

“Nah…”

You nod and cough into your fist, unsure of how to separate yourself from him. “Well, I guess I’ll see you…later?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m either at home, or at Sam’s or the Saloon during the weekends…”

“Okay, cool.”

You walk away quickly, confused as to how you had somewhat made a friend of him? There was that saying that misery loves company…maybe he was the perfect person to be miserable with. He seemed like he had problems himself. Mayor Lewis claps a hand onto your shoulder a little harder than necessary, causing you to wince. “Enjoying yourself, Farmer?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s good! It’s about time you introduced yourself to the townspeople. Everyone was so excited to meet the new farmer in town and you just…disappeared. They thought you were a recluse or something!” He lets out a laugh that makes you frown. You had forgotten how much this guy could talk.

“Yeah well, family deaths will do that to you.” You keep your face straight as you stare at him. He coughs and sputters out some words before the conversation is effectively ended.

After another minute and a half the egg hunt begins and your heart starts thumping in your chest. The kids are already running off, and Abigail is darting around so quickly that you think that she’s going to knock one of them over. Looking at the other participants, the urge to beat them overcomes you. Winning at this means that you’re officially part of the community right? You’re putting yourself out there?

Your feet move without another thought from you and soon enough your basket is full with eggs. Looking at the others it seems theirs are too. You can hear Lewis counting down from ten and your heart races even more. How were you supposed to win this? You run across the square, hoping to get one last egg.

Five…

Where are the rest of the eggs? What the fuck is there no more?

Four…

In the corner of your eye something yellow gleams under the sun. An egg! Near the river!

Three…

You dash towards the egg, hand stretched out towards it.

Two…

A couple more steps to go, you’re unsure if you’ll get there in time.

One…

Your hand closes around the egg and into your basket it goes. Your heart thumps and your breaths come out uneven. But you made it! The last egg.

Lewis calls everyone back towards the center of town, eyes gleaming as he looks at everyone’s baskets. He seems happy to see more people participating in a dying tradition. There were only two kids in town so an egg hunt is bound to get boring as everyone gets older.

It takes five whole minutes for Lewis to count everyone’s eggs, yours being the last basketbhe gets his hands on. “Nine…ten…” Abigail groans in annoyance next to you. “Eleven! The winner is the Farmer! Come up and get your prize!”

Prize? If you knew there was going to be a prize you wouldn’t have tried so hard. Now someone was going to be mad at you for winning instead of them. You walk slowly to Lewis confused as to what he could be offering.

“Enjoy!”

He hands you a straw hat…well at least it’s helpful?

110 notes · View notes

solitaryearthperson · 2 months

Text

You Changed Me

Summary: While patching you up, Chishiya confesses something to you.

(The reader is gender-neutral. The race/ethnicity is preferably black/person of color.)

*I am not a medical professional so I don't know if any of this is accurate*

"Hold still," Chishiya told you as he continued to dab the scratch marks with more antiseptic, concentrating on not pressing too hard on you.

"Sorry," you hissed, trying not to feel too flustered at having him so focused on your body even if it was just to patch you up.

Lifting your head up from the bed, you couldn't help but notice the close attention he gave to your wounds. You had seen him focused before when it came to tampering with a tricked-out device of his or a new plan that he had schemed up and wouldn't give you the full details, only the parts involving you. This type of focus he currently had was quite different. He's in his doctor mode, you realized. Right now, you weren't (Y/N), one of the few people he expressed slight concern and affection for. Right now, you were just a patient who needed his professional skills.

"Okay," he began, throwing the now blood-filled cotton ball away in the trash, before getting up and heading to the bathroom. You heard the cabinet open and close before you saw him walk back over to you on the bed, and felt him sitting down on the edge with a needle and thread in one hand, and a box of gauze pads in the other. "I need to stitch you and then dress your wounds."

The sight of the needle and thread made you gulp nervously, but not wanting to seem weak in front of him, you took a deep breath before nodding your head to him.

As he lowered himself to your side, you looked up to the ceiling of the room and tried to ignore the painful sting of the needle entering your skin and the thread following behind.

"Hey Chishi," you said, knowing the nickname irritated him, but not currently caring.

"Yeah," he replied back, his voice the usual devoid of emotions.

"Were you a good doctor," you asked him, feeling curious. He never gave that much details about his life before the Borderlands, besides the fact that he came from a rich family and that he was a doctor.

"Yes, I was," he answered.

The way he answered was full of assurance, leaving no room for doubt, and hearing it made you smile.

"What type of doctor were you? Like general, or surgeon, pediatrician, psychiatrist...?"

"Heart surgeon."

Heart surgeon, you repeated in your mind. The thought of him being a doctor was still a strange thing you couldn't quite grasp, but you were still impressed at the amount of knowledge he secretly had.

"Hmm," you hummed aloud without thinking.

"What?"

"Nothing it's just-," you suddenly hissed at the feel of the needle piercing you sharper than before and you glanced down to see Chishiya was already looking up at you apologetically. "Do you think me and you would have been friends before all of this?" you asked him, slightly twitching at the uncomfortable feeling of the thread moving through your skin.

"Probably not," he answered a little too quickly for your taste and you quickly looked down at him to see the dark roots of his scalp as he continued to stitch.

"Why not?" you didn't mean to show the offense in your voice, but you had thought you and Chishiya were making progress with each other.

"You wouldn't have liked me before this," he answered. "The only reason we are together is because of this place."

He was silent for quite a while, and for a second, you thought that maybe he just simply ignored you, but doing a quick glance down, you saw that while he was still lowered over your stomach, needle and thread in his hand, his demeanor and aura had somewhat changed.

"Do you really think we wouldn't have been friends before this?"

With a tired sigh, he replied, "I know we wouldn't, (Y/N)."

"Why wouldn't I have liked you before, Chishiya? If I like you now, I definitely would have before."

Letting out another hiss, you watched as he finished up stitching your side, then took out a small pair of scissors that you had no idea where came from, and used them to cut the remaining thread.

"I have changed here."

Changed? Is he serious? "Chishi, we all have changed here. This place does that to you-"

"I wouldn't have cared about you before," he interrupted you. "Not you, Kuina, Arisu, or anyone else. I didn't really care much about my patients, either."

The confession made you become quiet for a second. It was something you were glad to hear come out of his mouth as it meant that he trusted you just as much as you trusted him, trusted you enough to confess something personal like that, but still...How could you not care about the patients you saw, worked on?

As if reading your mind, he answered you, "They were just people my job required me to help, just like you all were nothing but pawns to me."

Even though it was the honest truth and something you and the others had already known, you still couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. Despite how close you two had become, it was still a bit of a struggle to not get sometimes offended by his apathetic voice coupled with harsh truths.

"Well, what changed?" You asked, using your elbows to try sitting up, but he quickly placed a hand gently on your shoulder and nudged you back down, flat on the bed.

"You're not ready to get up yet. Just relax and let me know if you need anymore medicine."

You nodded your head, before giving him a silent look, urging him to answer your question.

"You know what changed," he answered.

The answer was true, but you wanted to hear it straight from his mouth. "No, I don't. What changed, Chishi?"

Even though some strands of his hair covered his face, you could still see a slight blush appearing on his face and couldn't keep the grin from growing on yours.

Letting out a sigh at what you were trying to do, he tried to ignore the growing hotness in his face and answer you as honestly as he could. "Kuina...Arisu...and you. You changed me."

I sure did, you thought proudly, watching as he got up from the bed, gathering the needle, leftover thread, and other times in his arms before going back to the bathroom.

#aib #alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya #aib imagine #aib x reader #aib x black!reader #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland imagine #chishiya imagine #chishiya x reader #chishiya x black!reader #chishiya x poc!reader #chishiya shuntaro x poc!reader #chishiya shuntaro x black!reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n

95 notes · View notes

kinzis-writing · 2 years

Text

Only Exception | Robert “Bob” Floyd

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Fem! Mitchell! Reader, Rooster x Fem! Mitchell Reader (platonic)

Summary: Y/N Mitchell swore to herself that she would never allow herself to date or get involved with anyone from any branch of the military. After worrying about her father, the past few years, she knew that she never wanted to experience that worry for a significant other. After her father gets ordered back to California, she may just meet the one that ruins all her plans.

Request: Yes | No

Warning(s): swearing, slight angst, mentions of sexual material, top gun related themes, Top Gun: Maverick spoilers! Also timelines probably won’t add up for this imagine.

note from me: this is my first top gun one-shot and I am not sure how I feel about it. This may end up being really long or multiple parts. I personally wrote this because Bob is one of my favorite characters. I don’t feel like he gets enough love but that is just my opinion. I have always been one to like the characters who are more quiet and shy.

I have watched the original Top Gun multiple times (I thank my mother because she loves the original) and I’ve went out with my college friends and watched TGM four times now (i know). With this being said, I still do not know much about the navy or such. However, reader will have a nursing profession because I do know about that. I am currently a nursing student so... just so I can talk about one job that I actually know about.

Update: this is now a mini series! *Not Edited*

Series Masterlist: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.

Gif NOT mine, all credits to owner/maker.

The wind blew through the y/c/h girl’s hair as she drove down the street. She had a feeling that she knew the exact reason her father had been called back into town. It was obvious that he had a job here, or else he wouldn’t be back. She also knew that there was a reason that her father had made her wait until Penny called her to tell her that her father was back in town. It did irritate the girl, that her own blood wouldn’t tell her that he was back. She would have appreciated a text or phone call instead of relying on his ex-girlfriend to tell his own daughter.

pushing her anger and irritation to the side for this moment, she pulled into a parking space. The hard deck was already crowded and there was no doubt that more people would pile in as the night progressed. It was the best bar in town for the Navy folk and everyone in between. Y/N took a deep breathe, what was she preparing to hear, she wasn’t sure, yet she knew that she would need to prepare herself for whatever the outcome may be. Walking through the doors of the infamous bar sent her memories skyrocketing. She had been here many times, lately she had neglected the place due to her hectic work schedule. Y/N made sure to ignore the looks that some of the guests sent her or the obvious man-whores making comments. Luckily, the girl had inherited some of Pete’s attitude, meaning part of his cockiness rubbed off on her.

“Y/N,” Penny greeted with a smile causing Maverick to look over to his daughter. “Can I get you anything?”

Y/N gave a light smile to Penny as she sat on the barstool beside her dad, “No thanks, I have an early shift in the morning.” She dismissed as she heard cheering and chaos behind her. The girl rolled her eyes as she slightly turned her head noticing a tall blond-haired person in uniform. “Top gun students?” the younger girl spoke up as she waited for Penny or her father to answer her question.

Maverick cleared his throat before speaking, “Top Gun graduates.” He corrected his daughter making the younger girl turn to her father with a knowing look. “I’m teaching them, training them for a mission.”

“The best of the best?” Y/N asked turning back to look over at the pool table. She caught the obnoxious attitude of the two huddled around the table and the girl who seemed to be reconciling what he had started.

“Yeah.” Pete sighed. He knew that his daughter wasn’t dumb. She knew that if her father was training graduates that the mission had to be dangerous. She had been scared for her father enough to know that it was the case.

“Lovely.” She muttered before the bar doors opened and in walked her old best friend, she hadn’t seen him in years. The aviator glasses laid on his face until he pulled them off and let them hang on the neck of his white tank top. The Hawaiian shirt laid over top of his white tank unbuttoned. His style matching his father’s, that the girl had noticed in pictures that her father had kept. Y/N let a small smile grace her features knowing that her best friend had went through life doing what he wanted. She knew he deserved it; he deserved some sort of happiness. “I assume you knew he would be here?” she spoke up as she turned back to her father.

Penny gave the older man a knowing look causing him to sigh, “Yeah, trust me… it’s not my first option.” He added making his daughter roll her eyes. She knew that Bradley would never appear ready enough or old enough to please her dad. Simply because he didn’t even want him in the Navy, the same way he begged his daughter to have no interest in the military. He explained how he didn’t want his own daughter or Bradley to be a part of this, how he wanted a better life than this. Y/N knew there was a deeper story though. She just knew when to stop prying her dad for answers.

“Would he ever be ready to you?” Y/N asked her father giving him a knowing look. She watched as her father deflated as he looked for an answer to the girl’s question. She knew the answer already, she just wanted to see what her old man would say. Bradley had been angry with her father for some time now, to be fair, Bradley hadn’t been Y/N’s best friend for many years. Because of their ten-year age gap, y/n was more like his little sister. They had reconnected when she was working as a travel nurse, and she happened to have a contract at a hospital close to where he was working at the time. That was a couple years ago when she was a fresh nurse.

Instead of waiting for a reply she knew wasn’t coming, she got up out of her seat and made her way over to the group of pilots. Bradley was in a conversation with the only girl pilot in their group before Y/N interrupted. “Well, I’ll be damned, if it isn’t Bradley Bradshaw.” She spoke up causing the group of Pilots to turn their attention to her. Y/N Crossed her arms over herself as a smirk made its way onto her face.

“Y/N?” Bradley’s voice sounded surprised to say the least. Within the next minute Y/N was wrapped up in a tight hug from her previous best friend. “It’s been so long, how’ve you been?” he asked quietly as they slowly parted from the hug.

“Besides getting a new job and living here for the next couple years, not much.” The Mitchell girl shrugged as she looked over and noticed that the two were the center of attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She added causing her friend to turn and look at his fellow pilots.

Bradley placed his arm over her shoulder before turning more towards Phoenix. “This is Y/N, I basically grew up with her.” He announced as a few of the pilot’s murmured greetings and went back to what they were doing. Natasha was the first to walk over and introduce herself, insisting that the newbie call her Phoenix.

“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing being friends with Rooster?” The tall obnoxious blond-haired person from earlier spoke up. He wore a smirk on his face, one that Y/N knew. It was common for the same type of boys to have that overconfident smirk about them. “I’m sure I could show you a better time.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she eyed the man across the pool table, his cue laid on his relaxed shoulders. Almost like he was enjoying being her center of attention, yet he wasn’t getting the attention he wanted from the girl. “I don’t get involved with any branch of the military,” Y/N announced with her eyes narrowed in slits. If she hadn’t remembered the bar sign, she would have added another smart remark. However, the girl didn’t feel like buying a round for everyone in the bar tonight.

He muttered a reply with a smirk before going back to playing pool with the other boys. Before the guy, who she learned was Hangman challenged Rooster in pool. Y/N rolled her eyes but stepped away, she turned to go back towards the bar before noticing one of the men that she didn’t talk to yet. She didn’t want to just walk up to him and be blunt or seem too interested in new people. He stuck out to her though, mainly because he didn’t seem to be cocky like the others, he was quieter and seemed to keep to himself. That was rare to find in people like him. Even Rooster was cocky about some things. Pushing her annoying thoughts away, she walked over to the unknown man and leaned against the wall next to him. “Hey,” She started causing him to look around a moment before turning his gaze up to meet hers. Since he was sitting on a stool, and she was standing. “We haven’t met yet, y/n.” she introduced as she held her hand out.

The guy reached his hand out and shook hers, “Bob.” He mumbled. Y/N gave him a small smile before he released her hand. The girl went to say something else before Penny rang the bell and everyone started chanting. Hangman and his fellow pilots were quick to get to the bar. The girl knew what was happening, whoever had gotten the bell rang on them was being tossed out of the bar.

“So, how do you like being a pilot?” Y/N asked bob over all the noise. Her attention was on the boy with glasses in front of her, until she noticed the biker jacket on the guy that Hangman and his friends were throwing out. “Oh, shit.” The girl mumbled to herself.

“I’m actually- “Bob started until he noticed the look on her face. She looked worried for a moment before she stood up and gave the man apologetic eyes.

“I have to go, but I hope we can finish this conversation sometime.” She told him honestly with a smile before pushing herself off the wall and out of the bar. Y/N left without wishing anyone a goodbye as she went outside to make sure her father was okay after being thrown out.

⁂⁍

Y/N was pissed, that was the best way to describe what the woman was feeling at this very moment. She had shown up to her shift early this morning and had a wonderful day, until lunch break. Too many things happened in her life currently. Someone had called and reported her for no reason, she tried to tell her bosses that it was more than likely a family member of the woman she had been taking care of. The daughter of the woman was a pain to deal with every time she came to visit. She got mad if the nurses weren’t there to get Ice chips right when the call light goes off. Y/N could understand if it was an emergency but reporting her over delayed ice chips or delayed water refills was a joke. She was busting her ass for her patients because she knew they deserved the best.

“Y/N, you’re off work early.” Penny greeted cautiously. Never had the Mitchell girl came into the bar when her four shifts in a row started. She also never came to the bar in her scrubs which is what she was currently wearing. “Can I get you something?”

“Something strong please.” Y/N muttered while taking a seat at the bar. Her hand was holding her head up as her elbow rested on the bar that Penny had just wiped off. She knew that her father would be done teaching his first class today and he would be here. That’s when she would have to face the music and tell her dad the cold hard truth. “Thank you.” She thanked the older woman as she laid a glass in front of her.

Just as she had predicted, her father came into the bar an hour or two after she got there. She hated having to admit to her father what happened. It wasn’t like she couldn’t live, they had to pay her contract that she signed out, but it was the fact that she had lost her job. This job had guaranteed her in one place for the next three years.

“Y/N, you’re off work early.” Pete stated as he took the seat next to his daughter. Penny laid a beer in front of him as he thanked her before turning back to his daughter. “I thought your first day was a 16?”

Y/N sighed as tears welled up in her eyes, her gaze dropped down to her drink as she tried her best to blink the tears away. “They let me go.” She mumbled as she took a deep breath. “They paid out my contract and got rid of me.” Y/N picked up her glass and took a drink before sitting it back down.

“Did they mention what happened?” Pete asked his daughter softly. He hated that this happened to his daughter, especially when he knew how hard she worked.

“Some daughters of one of my patients called to report me three separate times. The same old asshat of a Karen.” Y/N stated as she rubbed her eyes to get rid of the tears. She was tired and upset, more than she had ever been in her life. “It was the same ones who got mad over ice chips and drinks being delayed. That’s why I got reported. I swear that was the only reason.” She promised. All the girl could do was feel disappointed in herself. She wasn’t sure what to do, she knew that she had to be looking for a new job to survive.

Penny gave the girl an apologetic look before leaning over the bar in between the daughter and father duo. “I can let you work here until you find another nursing job.” Penny offered. Y/N gave her a thankful smile but declined her offer. Afterall, she didn’t study for four years just to let her degree go to waste.

“I could try to get you an interview in our med unit on base.” Her father offered knowing that his daughter wanted nothing to do with the navy boys that would see her the most. He was against her being in any part of the navy, but he did want her to get back on her feet.

“Thanks dad, but that will be my last option.” Y/N told her father honestly as she traced her finger around the rim of her glass. “I’ll use the money they had to give me to live while I look for something else.” That was the most logical to her. She didn’t want to be in a job where she hated the facility or where her father is the reason, she got the job. Y/N knew that it wouldn’t hurt her to have a small vacation either. It would be good for her to have some free time and be able to relax a bit.

The girl zoned out as her dad and Penny engaged in a conversation, with the time it was about to get packed. Pete’s class had already joined each other in the back where they usually stay and the chaos they were causing. Y/N’s gaze landed over to Bob who was talking to Phoenix before the girl stood up and started walking towards the bar. The unfinished conversation hung over her, making her want to go over and spark up the conversation. So, without a further thought, the girl made her way over to the quiet navy man.

“Bob,” Y/N spoke softly so she wouldn’t scare the man. He turned to face her, a small smile appearing when he noticed the girl. Her hair was in a messy ponytail and her scrubs marked every curve of her body, not that she got them tight. It was just the brand she was wearing that day; she would admit that she had some looser ones at home.

“Hi.” Bob said, almost sheepishly as he noticed her scrubs and her appearance. He would be lying if he told anyone that the girl in front of him was not attractive. Of course, he thought she was gorgeous. How could he not?

Y/N let out a short giggle as she took the seat next to him, “hey.” She replied before noticing Bradley’s gaze from across the pool table. She sent him a smile with a wave, he returned the smile before turning back to the game in front of him. “I rushed out yesterday so I thought we could finish our conversation.” She enlightened as she turned towards him a bit.

“Oh,” Bob nodded as he noticed the girl’s eyes glisten with an emotion he could not decipher.

“I didn’t get an answer to my first question,” Y/N started.

“Oh, uh, I’m actually not a pilot.” He announced to the girl beside of him. “I’m a wso.”

Y/N nodded understanding that he would not be the one flying the jet. She had grown up listening to her father tell her stories about the navy and what he did for work. Of course, it was not exactly well known around the younger lieutenants that Maverick even had a daughter. After all, he was known to be one of the fastest, if not the fastest, flyer in the navy. “Is bob your callsign or your name?”

“Both, well my real name is Robert.” He explained as he grabbed his drink off the ledge beside the two of them. “Everyone just calls me Bob.”

“Ah, well…” Y/N trailed as she thought about her next comment. She did not want to seem weird or come off too strong. “I like to have my own nickname for my friends.” She spoke lightly to see his reaction. “Like Bradley, well, Rooster to everyone else…” She started as she pointed her finger in the direction of her older friend. “When we were close, I used to call the guy Brownie.” She spoke up causing said man to look in the direction of his two friends.

Y/N laughed as a groan came from the Bradshaw boy’s mouth. She knew he hated that nickname since she started calling him that. Given they had a sibling relationship, so it started out to just annoy him, then she finally just called him that when they were together. She would not put Bob through the torture of having a horrible nickname like that. She just liked telling her new friends about what she put the poor boy through.

“Don’t start that again.” Bradley spoke up as he passed the two on his way to the bar. No doubt getting another drink if they were about to have that conversation.

Y/N glanced at Bob noticing the smile on his face, “I’m thinking Robby, or Bobby, it’s a hard choice.” She spoke up as Bob met her eyes.

Y/N could feel her cheeks heat up as she noticed how his gaze lingered a bit before he cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink. The Mitchell girl bit her lip to keep the grin off her face before looking away towards her old friend who had rejoined the group. Rooster sent the girl a knowing look with a smirk occupying his lips as him and Phoenix whispered to each other. No doubt talking about the two of them.

Y/N cleared her throat before standing up getting the shy boys attention, “I should get going, but uh, I hope to see you again bobby.” She mumbled softly before standing up. Rooster followed the girl out to her vehicle. Mainly to interrogate her about his classmate, but also to tell the girl goodbye. “I’ll see you later Bradley.” She bid goodbye as she hugged him quickly before letting go.

“I thought you weren’t into Navy guys?” He asked with a knowing smirk on his face.

The girl felt her face flush as she playfully rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She replied as she crossed her arms over her body. Honestly, she felt exposed with this conversation. She knew that there was some reason she wanted to get to know the quiet wso, but she was not sure exactly what it was. Maybe it was because he was vastly different than the other guys in the navy. She did not plan on ever dating a military guy, and her plans were still to only be friends with them. Nothing more and nothing less, even if it was against what she personally wanted. There was no way that she was going to risk the heartbreak of her lover never coming home. It was too much, and, in all honesty, she did not want a tragic event to ruin her life like that.

“Come on, y/n/n.” Bradley spoke softly in hopes that she would not get defensive. “I am not saying you like him or anything right now. I just know how you act when you think a guys attractive, plus your type tends to be the quiet or shy ones.” He explained causing Y/N to sigh.

She knew Bradley was right. He had been around her when she first started going on dates and her boyfriends always ended up being the quiet ones. The ones that had clean reputations, and she tried her best to stay away from man-whores. That was until her ex that she dated when she was eighteen, Bradley had been briefed on that story once they reconnected. Her ex-boyfriend had been in the military, the army to be exact, he was one of the overconfident ones. Hangman had reminded her of that ex plenty when she met him. He had proposed to the girl less than a year of dating and she agreed, mainly because she was hung up on his looks. Pete would tell you that he was a dick who did not deserve his daughter. Y/N knew that her father, friends, and everyone around her hated him and the way he treated her. He was not the best, always demanding that she move with him. She had eventually found out that he cheated on her while he was stationed elsewhere. There were multiple girls, yet the most recent one before she broke off the engagement found out that she was pregnant. That was the last straw for her, knowing that she knew better, and she swore to never date anyone in any kind of branch of the Military. Of course, worrying for her father did play a part in that. It just was not the main reason.

“Of course, I’m attracted to Bob, it’s painfully obvious that he’s, my type.” Y/N muttered before running a nervous hand through her hair. She knew that if she kept talking to him or trying to hang out with him that she would eventually get feelings for the man. “I don’t want to get my heart broken again. Whether it being from mistakes or death.”

Bradley sighed; he knew where she was coming from. The fear and pain of becoming close with someone in his line of work. Y/n knew about Goose’s death, and he knew that it was probably a reminder for her, just like it was him. The only fact that it was his father and he met him, and she did not. She had comforted him a bit when he got mad at her father and when he would want to talk about Goose. “Phoenix seems to think he’s a great guy and he has a clean reputation.” Rooster started slowly to see how his younger friend would take the information. “I get that you are scared, but you can’t use that your whole life. You need to do what makes you the happiest and if that ends up being Bob in the future… so be it.”

Y/N shook her head and without saying anything else she got in her vehicle and left the bar. Leaving Bradley alone outside, until he sighed and walked back into the bar.

⁂⁍

Y/N had woken up the next morning with a text message on her phone from Iceman. She rarely talked to the man since her college graduation. He was someone that she was close with as a kid and teen, mainly because that was who her father hung around the most. He was mentioning how they were looking for a nurse to be on standby at their North Island base. She knew that her father had something to do with Iceman offering her an interview if she wanted one, how did he have that connection? She wasn’t sure, but she also didn’t want to refuse from him. It was better than her father going to the base himself and begging them to give her an interview. She had agreed to go in for the interview at 1200, which led her to drive to the base an hour before her interview. She knew that her father would be training the graduates so she could wait and talk to him about it after.

Y/N went to her interview and after she patiently waited for her father. She knew that she had the right qualifications to work at the base. Like she had told her father, the navy wasn’t what she wanted, plus she knew that if someone applied for the job that was in the navy that she would not get the job. All because she had grown up with a pilot father didn’t mean that she would have everything they preferred.

“Y/N?” A soft voice asked as the girl turned around. The Mitchell girl came face to face with Bob, who seemed like he was a bit sweaty and tired. “What are you doing here?”

She gave him a smile before opening her mouth to speak, “Well, you see Bobby, I happen to be a nurse and I got called here for an interview.” She explained. “They’re looking for a nurse to stay on base for the next few months and I thought it would be a wonderful opportunity to understand exactly how my friends and dad work.”

“Dad?” Bob asked confused with a small smile on his face. “Was your father in the navy?”

“Actually- “Y/N started before she heard footsteps behind Bob. She noticed her father walking towards them causing her to give him a smile.

“Hey kiddo, what’re you doing here?” Maverick asked as he stopped beside one of his students and his daughter. Pete wasn’t stupid, he knew that his daughter hung around the hard deck because she met Bob. Of course, he knew her no navy boy rule as well, he just didn’t believe she would stick to it.

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Y/N scoffed as she gave her father a look. The quiet boy looked between the two as they conversed, finally seeing the resemblance that he didn’t notice was there earlier. It was clear that Y/N probably got more looks from her mother because she wasn’t an exact replica of her father, but you could tell they were related.

Maverick gave her a look back before looking between her and the wso, “what’s going on here?” He knew how to make his daughter annoyed and how to intimidate one of his students.

“Uh, nothing Captain, I just- “Bob started before he started tripping over his words.

Y/N held in a giggle as she shot her dad slight glares, “We were just saying hi.” She replied with Bob giving her a thankful smile. “I’ll see you later, Bobby.” She told him with a grin as her and dad started walking down the hall, letting her father lead her wherever.

“Bobby?” Maverick asked his daughter with an eyebrow raised. The girl rolled her eyes as they entered the area where her father must be teaching. “You’re hanging out with Lieutenant Floyd now?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again before crossing her arms. “I am not, but so what if I was?” She shrugged as she sat down in one of the empty seats. The pilots must have been getting ready for a new exercise seeing as they were nowhere to be found. “What I waited around for is to ask why you told Ice about my job problem?”

“Honey,” Maverick sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. To be fair, he didn’t expect his friend to message his daughter about it. “He asked how you were since I was back in town. I told him.”

“I told you that I didn’t want your help getting this job,” Y/N sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “If I got a job, especially like this, I don’t want it because I consider Ice an uncle or because Maverick is my father.”

“Job? Y/N, I didn’t mention him helping you get a job. I just told him that you were looking for one currently cause of the shit that your old facility put you through.” Pete honestly told his daughter. Y/N noticed the look in his eyes, he was telling the truth and she knew it. That meant that it was Ice who was trying to help the Mitchell girl get a job, but why? She understood that he was close to her father and that they were once like immediate family, but times have changed as they have grown older.

Y/N nodded bidding her father goodbye and leaving her dad and friends behind until they all made it to the bar tonight. The bar wouldn’t open for many hours, but she thought that she could go help Penny until training was over and she could get to know her new friend a bit more. “God, what am I getting myself into.” She muttered to herself as she left the base and headed towards the Hard Deck. She needed to set some boundaries for herself so she wouldn’t start catching feelings for Bob. She knew that if she didn’t set some ground rules that it would happen. Y/N Mitchell was lost in thought and slightly zoned out until she arrived at the bar, only one vehicle parked out front. She knew it had to be Penny’s.

The y/c/h girl placed her sunglasses on her dashboard before climbing out of her vehicle. The quickly pressed the ‘lock’ button on her car remote before jogging into the empty bar. Amelia sat at the bar with a notebook and pages sitting on the bar in front or her. Before the girl could speak up, Penny came out of the bag with a box that was clinking as she carried it. “You need some help?” Y/N offered as she walked closer to the older woman.

“I’m fine, thank you though.” Penny dismissed as she took in Y/N’s attire and how she was fixed up properly. “You have an interview today?”

Y/N nodded with a sigh escaping her, “Yeah, thanks to Iceman.” She told the woman as she sat a few seats down from Penny. The woman could tell by the girl’s tone that she didn’t want to talk about it. So, she did the opposite.

“I heard you have your eye on a certain Navy boy.” Penny brought up as she started wiping off the beer glasses and getting them ready for opening. Y/N groaned as she laid her forehead on the bar. It was bad enough that Bradley and her father thought they knew about it, now Penny was on her back about it too.

“Why does everyone keep telling me that?” Y/N sighed as she picked her head up and leaned against her hand. Her elbow was on the table keeping her head steady in her hand. “In case everyone forgot, I have a strict ‘no military’ boy policy in my life.” She muttered as Amelia turned to give the girl a knowing look.

“Please, even I can tell your sexually frustrated.” Amelia spoke up as she gave the girl closer to her age a look.

Penny scolded Amelia causing the teen to turn back to her homework. “Bob’s a nice guy, very shy.” Penny spoke softly as she continued her job. “I’m sure he wouldn’t break your heart.”

Y/N glanced at the two girls at the bar and sighed. “I’m not into Bob, can we just drop the topic.” She begged causing Penny to sigh but agree. That’s when the older woman finally accepted help from the younger adult.

⁂⁍

The bar had been open for about two hours and it was just a few minutes before the rush would start coming in. People would be getting off work and everything in between. Maverick had texted Penny and his daughter that he ended class a bit early today, just to give the team time to relax before tomorrow. Mainly because he had made them do pushups that day of.

“Here comes your ‘friend’” Penny stated before sliding down the bar and taking a new guy’s order. Y/N rolled her eyes at the older woman before taking a sip of her coke. She wasn’t drinking tonight, for many reasons, but the main one was she didn’t trust herself drunk or even tipsy. Especially with her Bobby in the same bar.

“Hey, Y/N.” Bob’s shyness was evident when he spoke up. More than likely because there were many men making comments to you which you just shrugged off. “Seems like we’re always in the same place.” He laughed nervously.

A grin spread across the girl’s face as she noticed his nerves. No doubt because one of his pilot friends put him up to this. “Well, Bobby, I do live here and now you know my father so…” She trailed off as she turned towards the boy that she hadn’t known for exceedingly long. “But, uh, I was actually wanting to get to know you.” Y/N spoke up, so Bob didn’t have to struggle.

“Do you, maybe, want to take a walk?” Bob offered.

A blush fanned Y/N’s cheeks as she impulsively grabbed Bob’s hand and lead him out of the bar and towards the beach. Penny watched with a smirk on her face as Phoenix and Bradley high-fived over at their table where they were seated. On the other hand, Pete knew that his daughter didn’t notice him come in the bar.

“She said she isn’t into him.” Pete spoke loud enough for Penny to hear in front of him.

“You honestly believe that?” Penny asked her ex-lover as she gave him a knowing look.

Pete shrugged, “If she isn’t, she will be.”

Back on the beach Y/N was walking with Bob, not realizing that their hands were still clasped together. It felt natural to the girl and yet she paid no mind to it. Bob had noticed and decided not to say anything. Mainly because he hadn’t had any sort of affection in a while. It’s not like he never had any, it had just been hard for him to find someone recently with his work and everything.

“What made you choose the navy?” Y/N asked softly as she sat down in the sand, their hands now disconnected. She waited for his answer as she slipped her shoes off and let her toes sink into the sand.

Bob shrugged causing their shoulders to touch, “Many factors.” He replied. “I was always a bit fascinated with the career.” He added before switching the question to the girl beside him. “What about you, what made you choose nursing?”

Y/N gave a soft smile, “Helping people.” She mumbled as she glanced over and noticed his full attention on her. “I always wanted to help people, I almost decided on Medical school, instead of nursing school.” She admitted as she watched the waves crash on the shore. It was beautiful. The beach had always been one of her favorite places. “I had it drilled in my head as a teen that I should not join any part of the military, that it was too dangerous, and I deserved to have a family without worry.” Y/N mumbled as she noticed Bob’s gaze drop down for a moment before glancing back up at her. “That’s Maverick as a dad for ya, so reckless but his kid isn’t allowed to be.” She added with a laugh to lighten the mood.

Bob shrugged, “I think that’s just what parents do.” He muttered back the reply.

Y/N gave him a small smile in understanding. She did know that it was part of Pete’s problem, but she also knew that Goose had a lot to do with how he felt about his kids joining the navy or the military for that matter. “You’re right, he was just as hard on Bradley as he was on me about it.”

Bob tensed a bit at the mention of your best friend. The clearing of the throat caught your attention, “I’m sorry if this is too personal but have you two ever been a thing?”

Y/N could tell that he was unsure and nervous to ask that question. She knew that they were close, but they never were romantically attracted to each other. They always had a strong sibling like bond. “No, we haven’t.” she spoke honestly. “We’ve never viewed each other like that. Given, he did live with us for a little bit… we grew our sibling bond.” She explained.

Bob nodded not saying much after that. The quiet WSO knew that he didn’t want to have to compare to Rooster if they ever dated. It wasn’t something that would end very well, considering he believed that Rooster outdid him many times. It was clear that the older pilot had an extrovert personality which Bob knew was usually a hit for the woman.

“what’s going on in that head of yours?” Y/N interrupted the guy’s thoughts. She watched as he pushed his glasses back up his nose before shrugging his shoulders. Bob would be embarrassed to tell her what he was thinking about. The two hadn’t known each other for very long but he was definitely attracted to the captain’s daughter. “Bobby,” she playfully nudged the boy. “You can trust me.” She assured.

“It’s nothing.” He dismissed. He didn’t miss the way that Y/N rolled her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. It wasn’t that she was disappointed, she just wanted to know what he was thinking. She knew that he was previously deep in thought and his facial features showed that he was concerned about something.

Y/N grabbed her shoes before dusting off her feet, “I’m always here if you need me, Bobby.” She assured as she carefully slipped her shoes back on. “I should be getting home; it’s getting late and I’m sure my dad won’t go easy on you guys tomorrow.” She easily stood up with Bob following her. “See you later, Bob.” She waved before turning around and started walking towards the parking lot.

Bob stood planted on his place at the beach, until his feet took off without him thinking about it. “Y/N!” he called causing the girl to stop her walk and turn around waiting to hear what he had to say. “What you told Hangman… is that true?” He asked as he walked closer to the girl that he was starting to develop a crush on.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed slightly before realization dawned on her face. He was concerned that what she told him was true. Honestly, it was. The girl didn’t want any significant other being in any branch of the military. Especially not after her father and her dating history. Yet she felt like she would be lying to him if she told him that it was a hundred percent true. “Why don’t you just wait and see, Bobby?”

Next Part.

#Top Gun #Top Gun Maverick #Robert Floyd #Robert Bob Floyd x Reader #Robert Bob Floyd oneshot #Robert Bob Floyd imagine #rooster x reader #Pete Mitchell x Daughter reader #Top Gun Bob imagine #Top Gun Bob One shot #Top Gun Robert Bob Floyd #Bob Floyd x reader #Bob Floyd oneshot #Bob Floyd imagine #top gun oneshot #top gun imagines #top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagines

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nox140497 · 4 months

Text

Among Us, Corpsehusband, and a Jealous Boyfriend

Prompt: No

Request: No

Prompt Number: None

Summery: Makr and Y/N play Among Us with some friends.

Pairings: Mark Fishbach x Female Reader

Materlist

Prompt List

_______________________________

Mark and his girlfriend Y/N were avid gamers. Of course they were, they are gaming Youtubers. One of their favorite games lately was Among Us, a popular multiplayer game where players work in teams to complete tasks while trying to identify and eliminate any imposters among them. They were also adding proximity chat to it as well. Meaningbthat those near enough to eachother could hear eachother spek.

One evening, Mark and Y/N decided to invite some of their favorite streamer friends to join them in a few rounds of Among Us. As they waited for the lobby to fill up, Y/N couldn't contain her excitement when she saw that one of the players was none other than Corpsehusband, a streamer known for his deep and mysterious voice.

"Oh my gosh, Corpse is playing with us!" Y/N exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

Mark couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched Y/N fangirl over Corpse. He knew she had a crush on the streamer, though he tried not to let it bother him. After all, it was just a harmless crush, right?

As they started the first round of the game, Y/N was quick to join the Corpse's side. Mark watched as they chatted and laughed together, his jealousy growing with every passing moment. He couldn't help but feel like he was being pushed to the sidelines.

But as the game progressed, Mark and Y/N found themselves on opposite teams. And to Mark's disappointment, Y/N seemed to be more focused on impressing Corpse than working together with her own boyfriend.

Feeling frustrated and left out, Mark decided to confront Y/N after the game.

"Why were you fawning over Corpse the whole time?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Y/N looked taken aback by his question. "What? I was just having fun playing the game with everyone," she replied with a shrug.

"But you were constantly talking to him and ignoring me," Mark pointed out.

Y/N sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mark. I didn't mean to make you feel left out. I just get nervous around Corpse because he's such a big streamer, and I never thought I'd get the chance to play with him. But you know you're the only one for me," she reassured him with a smile.

Mark's jealousy melted away as he realized that Y/N was just caught up in the excitement of playing with her favorite streamer. He wrapped her in a hug and whispered, "I know, babe. I just don't want to lose you to some deep-voiced streamer."

They both laughed and continued to play Among Us with their friends, including Corpse. And as the night went on, Y/N made sure to give Mark just as much attention as she did the other players. Mark couldn't be happier, knowing that he was the most important person to Y/N, not some streamer she fangirled over.

#markiplier imagines #markiplier x reader #markiplier

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rubylace · 8 months

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— NEIGHBORLY EVOLUTION . [니키]

genre: hate-to-love, highschool

pairing: Ni-ki x fem!reader

synopsis: find yourself living next door to Ni-ki, a classmate who never fails to irritate and annoy you. However, as both of you mature, something unexpected happens. Ni-ki's cold exterior begins to thaw, and he starts to care about you. Can this transformation turn a rivalry into a surprising love story?

Your move to a quiet suburban neighborhood should have been an exciting adventure, but it quickly turned into a daily annoyance. Why? Because your next-door neighbor, Ni-ki, also happened to be your classmate. From the moment you arrived, it was clear that he had a knack for making your life miserable.

One sunny afternoon, as you were taking out the trash, you spotted Ni-ki leaning against his porch railing, wearing his usual scowl. "Taking out the trash again, huh?"

You clenched your fists, your patience already wearing thin. "What's it to you, Ni-ki?"

He simply smirked, not bothering to offer an explanation. "Maybe you should learn to be more organized and produce less trash."

Rolling your eyes, you thought, 'Typical Ni-ki.' He was known for being irritating, annoying, and cold to everyone. But it seemed like he took particular pleasure in tormenting you.

As the days passed, the encounters with Ni-ki became a daily routine. He'd "accidentally" spill his drink on your homework, give you condescending looks in class, and even throw paper airplanes at you during boring lectures. It was as if he had made it his mission to make your life as miserable as possible.

But little did you know, beneath Ni-ki's icy exterior, something was changing. As he grew older, he would discover that his constant annoyance toward you was hiding a different kind of feeling—one he was not prepared for.

The daily grind of dealing with Ni-ki's irritations continued. It was as though he had made a personal vendetta out of bothering you, and it was impossible to ignore. He was relentless, but you were equally determined not to let him get the best of you.

One rainy day, as you hurried to school with an umbrella in hand, Ni-ki appeared out of nowhere, bumping into you and causing you to drop your books into a puddle. It was the last straw.

"Seriously, Ni-ki? Can't you just leave me alone for once?" you exclaimed, frustration bubbling over.

He didn't respond with his usual smirk or a snarky comment. Instead, he looked taken aback, as if your outburst had genuinely surprised him. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.

As days turned into weeks and the school year progressed, you couldn't help but notice subtle changes in Ni-ki's behavior. He'd occasionally offer to help you carry your books or save you a seat in class, only to revert to his annoying self moments later.

It was confusing, to say the least. You couldn't figure out what was going on in his head, but one thing was clear: Ni-ki was not as cold and heartless as he pretended to be.

As the school year continued, you couldn't ignore the fact that there were moments when Ni-ki's demeanor seemed to crack, revealing a more complex side to him. It was during those fleeting glimpses that you couldn't help but wonder what was hidden beneath his irritating exterior.

One day, during a particularly boring history lecture, you noticed Ni-ki doodling in his notebook. He'd drawn a smiley face with glasses and scribbled your name next to it. You couldn't believe your eyes; it was a stark contrast to his usual cold and distant behavior.

Confused and intrigued, you decided to confront him after class. "Ni-ki, what was that all about?"

He looked caught off guard but quickly regained his composure. "What are you talking about?"

You held up his notebook, showing him the drawing. "This. Why would you draw something like this?"

Ni-ki sighed, his usual defensiveness giving way to vulnerability for a moment. "I don't know. It's just... you annoy me, okay? But sometimes, I can't help but think about you."

His admission left you speechless. It was as if he were revealing a secret he had been hiding for a long time. Could it be possible that there was more to Ni-ki than met the eye?

As you pondered this new development, you couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for your relationship with Ni-ki to evolve into something beyond the constant irritation.

Ni-ki's unexpected admission had left you in a state of confusion. It was like discovering a hidden layer of a person you thought you knew so well, yet still couldn't fully understand.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself paying closer attention to Ni-ki's behavior. There were moments when he would go out of his way to help you, such as holding the door open or offering you a piece of his snack during lunch. But just as quickly, he'd return to his usual irritating self, leaving you baffled.

One afternoon, as you were both assigned to work together on a school project, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Ni-ki, what's going on between us? One moment, you're nice, and the next, you're back to being annoying."

He glanced at you, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I told you, you annoy me. But there's something about you that I can't ignore."

You couldn't help but press for more clarity. "What is it, Ni-ki? Why can't you just be straightforward?"

He let out a long sigh, as if wrestling with his own thoughts. "Because I... I think I might like you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected confession. It was a moment you hadn't anticipated. Ni-ki, the person who had made your life a daily challenge, was admitting to having feelings for you.

As you stared at him, the two of you found yourselves at a crossroads. The rivalry that had defined your relationship was now on the verge of transforming into something entirely unexpected.

In the wake of Ni-ki's confession, a fragile connection began to form between the two of you. It was a stark contrast to the constant irritation and rivalry that had defined your relationship for so long.

Ni-ki's behavior became even more erratic as he grappled with his newfound feelings. There were moments of warmth and kindness, followed by a return to his usual teasing and annoyance. It was as if he was testing the waters, unsure of how to navigate this uncharted territory.

One day, as you were walking home from school together, he suddenly stopped and turned to you. "I know I've been difficult, and I'm sorry for that."

You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by his sincerity. "Apology accepted, but why the sudden change of heart?"

Ni-ki hesitated, his usual cold facade cracking just a bit. "Because... because I want you to see the real me. The me that cares about you."

It was a side of Ni-ki you had glimpsed before, but now he was showing it to you more openly. Despite your lingering doubts, you couldn't help but feel a spark of something deeper between you two.

As the days turned into weeks, your relationship with Ni-ki continued to evolve, no longer as rivals, but as two people tentatively exploring the possibility of something more. It was a delicate dance, and neither of you was quite sure where it would lead.

Navigating the uncharted territory of a changing relationship with Ni-ki proved to be both exhilarating and confusing. The moments of warmth and connection you shared were interspersed with flashes of his old, annoying self, leaving you constantly on edge.

One sunny afternoon, as you were both studying at the park, Ni-ki suddenly leaned over and whispered, "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I actually enjoy spending time with you."

You couldn't help but smile at his admission. "I never thought I'd say this either, but I kind of enjoy it too."

Ni-ki's lips twitched in what could only be described as a half-smile. "Don't let it get to your head. I'm still going to tease you mercilessly."

Your laughter filled the air, a sign of the growing camaraderie between you two. It was moments like these that made you realize that maybe, just maybe, there was something worth exploring beyond the rivalry.

But as much as you enjoyed the moments of connection, doubt still lingered in your mind. Could you truly trust that Ni-ki's change was genuine, or was it just another one of his mind games?

The tug of war between your growing connection and the lingering doubts about Ni-ki's sincerity continued. It seemed like he was constantly testing the boundaries of your evolving relationship, leaving you in a state of emotional uncertainty.

One evening, while you were both working on a group project at your house, Ni-ki casually leaned closer to you. "You know, I've been thinking..."

Your curiosity piqued, you prompted him to continue. "Thinking about what, Ni-ki?"

He hesitated, his usual bravado momentarily fading. "About us. About what this is becoming."

Your heart raced at the thought of finally getting some clarity. "And what have you concluded?"

Ni-ki looked into your eyes, his gaze surprisingly earnest. "I think... I might actually care about you more than I thought."

It was a bittersweet admission, one that both warmed your heart and left you with a sense of caution. You couldn't help but wonder if Ni-ki's transformation was genuine or if he was merely toying with your emotions.

As you continued to navigate the delicate balance between your evolving connection and your lingering doubts, you knew that the path ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and unanswered questions.

As your relationship with Ni-ki continued to evolve, you couldn't escape the shadows of the past. The memories of his relentless teasing and annoyance were never far from your mind, creating a constant inner struggle.

One evening, while you were out for ice cream together, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Ni-ki, do you ever think about how you used to bother me all the time?"

He looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and sincerity. "All the time. I wish I could take it all back."

Your heart softened at his admission, but doubt still lingered. "Can you really change, Ni-ki? Can we move past all of that?"

He sighed, his gaze steady. "I'm trying, [Your Name]. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and it scares me. But I want to be a better person, for you."

It was a moment of vulnerability you hadn't seen often in Ni-ki. The sincerity in his words tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't help but hope that he was truly changing for the better.

But as you looked at the ice cream melting in your hands, you knew that the shadows of the past would continue to cast a long shadow over your evolving relationship.

The heart's dilemma weighed heavily on both you and Ni-ki as your relationship danced on a fine line between your past rivalry and your newfound connection. There were moments of tenderness that left you hopeful, but there were also times when Ni-ki's old habits resurfaced, leaving you questioning whether genuine change was possible.

One weekend, you found yourselves at a local carnival, surrounded by the colorful lights and laughter of the crowd. Ni-ki, seeming more genuine than ever, tried to win you a stuffed animal at a game booth. When he finally succeeded, he handed you the prize with a small smile.

"This is for you," he said, his eyes meeting yours.

You couldn't deny the warmth that spread through your chest at his gesture. But in the back of your mind, doubts still lingered. Could you truly trust that Ni-ki's feelings were sincere, or was this all just an elaborate game?

As the carnival lights flickered around you, you knew that your heart was caught in a dilemma. The familiarity of your rivalry and the uncertainty of your evolving relationship clashed, leaving you torn between the past and the possibility of a future with Ni-ki.

One sunny day, you invited Ni-ki to your favorite spot in the park. As you both sat on a park bench overlooking a serene pond, you took a deep breath, gathering your courage to address the lingering doubts that had plagued your heart.

"Ni-ki," you began, "I've thought long and hard about us, about everything we've been through."

He looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "What's on your mind?"

You smiled, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "I've seen you change, Ni-ki. I've seen the moments of kindness and vulnerability that you've shown me. And I've realized that love can be unpredictable, just like our journey."

Ni-ki's expression softened, and he reached for your hand. "I've changed because of you. You've shown me a different way of looking at things."

With a heart full of hope, you continued, "I want to give us a chance, Ni-ki. I want to see where this journey takes us, with all its ups and downs."

Ni-ki's eyes sparkled with newfound warmth and affection. "I'd like that more than anything."

As you sat together in the park, hand in hand, you knew that the future held endless possibilities for your relationship, and you were ready to embrace it together, leaving behind the rivalry that had once defined you.

With a bright future ahead, your love story with Ni-ki was just beginning, promising a lifetime of happiness and togetherness.

#enhypen #niki #enhypen niki #nishimura riki #enhypen riki #riki x reader #riki x you #fanfic #ffs #enhypen ff #engene #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen female reader #niki x y/n #niki imagines #niki story #niki oneshots #enhypen oneshots

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frownyalfred · 3 months

Note

If this too much or too personal please ignore!

But I was just wondering if you had any advice for grieving? (I lost a close family member very recently)

I'm so sorry for your loss, anon. I don't know your exact situation, but I hope your loved one's memory is a blessing to you and your family. I'll leave my thoughts below the break, since I'll discuss death and dying a little.

I am, as many people on here likely know, still grieving the loss of my father. It was sudden and unexpected. It was bloody and somewhat traumatic for our family. Thinking about it still leaves me dazed and unfocused.

Grieving is such a strange process. I've been talking about it with my therapist weekly, and her main takeaway has been that there is no right way to do it -- and that it is far from linear. There are positive moments and regressions. There are funny memories and difficult truths to grapple with. There is anger, confusion, sadness. Despair. So many unanswered questions and moments that hover on the edge of veneration simply because they are the only ones you have left.

How did I grieve? I cried a lot, at first. I took off work and sat shiva with my family. I answered a thousand well-meaning messages and played one singular song on repeat on my phone. I barely slept. I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed. I woke up crying without remembering exactly what I had been dreaming about.

Then, as if in reprieve, my brain let up. I slept somewhat normally again. My body was no longer on the edge of tears at any given moment, nor was I entirely numb. Slowly, I began to think of normal things again; new television shows, updating a chapter, irritation at the banal things like traffic and work.

And anon, I thought to myself, this must be it. I'm no longer "grieving," or at least not in the traditional sense of the word. I was eating, sleeping, going to the gym and work, updating my works and hitting the club again on the weekends.

But I wasn't done. And I'm not sure I ever will be. I wanted to be done, in so many ways. I was mad at my father for dying, for making me grieve, for keeping me in this state where I couldn't be confident in anything I was feeling, any progress I was making. Where I could remain silent and resolute at his burial, but sob like a baby in my apartment when the concert t-shirt he gave me was stained by some soup.

But that's a lot to put on the dead. And sometimes I have to keep reminding myself that -- that he is dead, that there is a gap in my life I keep trying to skip over, like avoiding tonguing at the aching tooth in the back of my mouth. And when I forget, the world is more than glad to remind me, whether through well-meaning neighbors, colleagues, etc etc.

I suppose that's a long way of saying, I think I'm still grieving anon. I'm not sure I'm doing the best at it, active or involuntary as this process seems to be. I have an amazing support network, but so much of this work seems to be solitary, even when someone is sitting right next to you, crying with you.

The Jewish saying "May their memory be a blessing" has been a good focal point for me, I think. It dovetails nicely with the Mandalorian saying "Not gone, merely marching far away." I've thought about both a lot in the last few months, because I'm a huge nerd and also because I don't think the cultures are too dissimilar.

Let your loved one's memory be a blessing in your life, anon. Remember the happy moments, and speak them out loud if you're able. Don't let their name remain sacred. Don't sanctify them, for we are all humans and humans are complicated, but don't leave their life behind you.

Those memories of them, those funny moments and sad days, fun trips and strange conflicts, those are all yours now. No one else has them. And when you and your family are gone, those memories are gone too.

Other small things that have made this whole process easier: Starbucks and DoorDash giftcards (seriously, some days are too hard), letting myself take time off hobbies (gym/writing) without penalizing myself, naming my grief and allowing myself to sit in it (I'm sad today about x, and I want to lie down for a few hours. I'm lying down because I'm feeling sad about x, and I'm allowed to feel that way). Going to the gym and running until the natural endorphins help. Talking with my families about good and complicated moments with my dad. Writing, when I'm able. Reminding myself it's okay to not be very functional, that it's okay to not be perfect and you would never expect someone who is grieving to be so. Talking to a therapist and getting treatment for what I experienced. Accepting the kind words of others, even if they hurt or are unintentionally difficult.

I'm sorry you're going through this anon. I know how you feel, or at least some of what you feel. I hope you have support and loved ones around you who can help shoulder some of this process.

<3 Jay

#tw grief #tw death #tw dying #tw grieving #personal #about me #forgive me for being terribly emotional and personal for a moment #asks #anon

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photmath · 1 year

Text

Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Birthday Bleus

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: cursing, fluff!, angst kind of, mommy issues

Note: Happy readings! *wink*

Kylian lets out a grunt and then a shaky exhale. Sweat lined the sides of each temple and Aurie could only smirk as she watched his shoulders tense through his sweaty tank.

“Who knew massaging your thigh could work you up such a sweat?” Aurie teases and then squeezes the lower end of the back of his thigh. The bruising had gone down tremendously through the last weeks. It was still there but was starting to blend in with his skin more, and for that reason, Aurie still hesitated to massage his calf. She only ran her fingers against the skin softly, not wanting to irritate the already exhausted muscles any further.

His head rolls into his folded arms, “You had me walking back and forth in here like a mad man, and then complained every step that it wasn’t correct.”

Aurie ignores him, wiping the back of his sweaty thigh with the towel. She didn’t realize that the abundance of sweat was from Kylian’s nerves. Not only from her hands, but from his own progress in his healing process. He was walking without his crutches and he found it relatively pain-free. He was surprised by the first couple of steps, expecting pain to shoot up his leg but none came. He felt giddy from the idea of finally being able to walk normally again, and listening to Aurie repeat over and over that he wasn’t allowed to run or ‘speed-walk’ only made him want to drop his head to lay a bashful—and thankful—kiss on her lips.

Aurie taps the back of his leg, “Okay, you’re done. Now, hurry and shower if you want to come with me to bingo. Can you believe some of the residents actually missed you?” Kylian turns around and sits up in front of Aurie who now holds a spray bottle and a different yellow towel. He gives her a sheepish smile. “What are you doing? Move so I can clean the table.”

He shakes his head, “Thank you for making me walk again.”

“You say that like you were never going to walk—”

“Take the compliment, Aurie, it won’t kill you,” he says, standing up. He slips into the space between her and the table just inches in front of her. He lets his neck fall down to look at her, entranced with the way her eyes peered up at him carefully.

“You’re welcome,” she exasperates. He smiles, pulling her into him to kiss her forehead. “Kylian—” she pushes him off but he’s already let go of her, walking away to the restroom. She shakes her head as she cleans the table, biting onto her lip to suppress her smile.

Kylian had briefly checked his phone for a message from the nursing home. His plan was haste, but turns out Aurie’s coworkers were already in the process of having something planned for her. All Kylian had to do was bring the cake—which he got the aid from Estrella and Maria to bake because they did not trust him to make a proper one.

There’s one message on his phone: Everything’s ready. Another from his dad but he ignores it.

---

“I should’ve known Angie was in on this,” Aurie scowls at the blindfold in Kylian’s hand. He can only smirk as he steps towards her. “How much did you pay Angie to do this?”

He feigns hurt, “Pay her? You really think I’d pay her to blindfold you?”

“Yes,” Aurie crosses her arms. “I don’t think my coworkers would willingly blindfold me so I say this is your idea.”

Kylian shrugs, pressing the blindfold against her eyes, and then ties the back of it against her hair. He grins next to her ear, “200 euros.”

She gasps, “No way!” Kylian chuckles in her ear and she has to move away from him to stop the visceral reaction of growing goosebumps on her neck.

“No, Aurie, why would I do that?”

She raises her shoulders, but she isn’t sure where he’s standing. Kylian grabs a hold of her hand and leads her to the ballroom where the residents and Aurie’s coworkers were gathered. She follows him silently, bumping into his arm occasionally but neither of them are bothered by it.

“No more blindfolds after this, okay?”

“Okay,” he promises. The small smile on his face only grows as he watches Aurie’s nose swing around the room searching for something. He chuckles quietly because all he wants to do is grab a hold of her cheeks and kiss her.

“It can’t be that big of a surprise if I already know what’s happening,” she comments.

“Shh,” he presses his pointer finger against her lips and she quiets down, shocked with the feel of his finger and breath fanning across her face. “I’m about to open the doors okay, and then you’re going to pretend that you’re super shocked.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

He opens the doors for her and leads her into the room with his hand pressed against her lower back. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

She takes it off swiftly, her jaw immediately dropping at the different orange colored balloons around the ballroom. There was a table of a giant card that was signed by each of the residents. Aurie was able to make out the smaller messages from a distance but she was transfixed with the cake. There was an abundance of strawberries on it, and a beautifully cursive message that read: Happy 25th Birthday, Aurie!

“Ahh,” she turns towards Kylian, “this is so beautiful!” She rises up to give him a hug and he chuckles within it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The bubbly excitement has her pressing her lips against his cheek before she can stop herself and Kylian gapes at the contact of it. Before he can relish in the feeling of it, she’s off to greet her residents and coworkers.

His breathing quickens at the sight of her, enamored by her gratitude towards them and him. He doesn’t notice Claude until he says something, “She looks a lot happier now that you’re back. She was still pretty chippy but she was missing the glow.”

Kylian couldn’t be at the last bingo session because he was with Martin for his progress check up. Kylian smiles, “She’s great. She makes me happier if anything.”

Claude tips his hat towards him, “Don’t break her heart now. She’s too pure for someone like you.”

“She might be too pure for anyone,” Kylian retorts.

Claude agrees, “That may be true. You think you have it in you to keep her?”

Kylian shrugs, staring at Aurie from a distance, “I don’t think so. I don’t think she’s made for my kind of lifestyle that her trying to fit into it will only be a disaster, but I would be an idiot to let someone like her go without a fight.”

Claude groans, “I forgot you are the French man! Oh no, you must stay away from her. You can’t take her from us.”

Kylian chuckles to ease the tension from growing. He didn’t want to think too far ahead of himself, certainly not about what the future held for his own career. His still vibrating phone was a sign of how much he was ignoring it.

Claude reaches out to grab a hold of Kylian’s wrist, noticing the smile on his face falter, “You should try because what’s the worst that can happen?”

Kylian nods his head slowly. The possibilities were endless. Getting someone like Aurie into the spotlight would only diminish her spark. “I’m trying.”

“Keep going. It would be unwise to throw away something great because of the ‘what ifs’ so don’t think about them,” he advises, patting Kylian’s wrist and then rolling his wheelchair away.

It was easier said than done, but Claude was right and Kylian knew it. Either way, he was waiting to see how Aurie was holding up. He didn’t want to rush her with anything, and he didn’t want to come off too strong. They weren't in a rush to label their relationship.

---

“Just answer the question,” Aurie pesters, slightly annoyed that Kylian isn’t indulging in her game. “Anywhere in the world, where are you going?”

Kylian rolls his eyes, “I’ve already been to many places, Aurie.”

“Okay then which is your favorite?” The car jostles as it passes the gravel road of her driveway. Kylian’s nerves had started a few kilometers away when he noticed the lack of cars in Aurie’s driveway. Where were they? They were supposed to be here before they returned and here Aurie was oblivious to what she was missing.

His hands clutch around his phone as it vibrates. He looks down at it, hoping it’s Camille, having had to go through so many hoops to get her number. Thanks to Angie, the lady at the front desk of the nursing home, he now had her number.

“Kylian?” Aurie peers over, shutting the car down.

“Tokyo,” he answers quickly.

She raises her brows, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs defeatedly. His second surprise had failed in front of him, even if Aurie knew nothing about it. “C’mon, I’m about to crash from all that cake.”

She chuckles, “You did eat a lot of it. Wait, is that—” Aurie rushes to open the door and Kylian tries to see what’s suddenly got her attention but he can’t. He steps out of the car, each step a little more frantic now that he can’t see Aurie standing next to the car. His fear calms down with the sound of her laughter. “Bleu!”

Aurie is crouched down, scratching the sides of a black, fluffy German Shepherd. Kylian smiles at Aurie trying to push Bleu off of her, but he wants to attack her face with more excited jumps. “Look over there, Bleu!”

Bleu notices Kylian, raising his ears suspiciously. Kylian freezes and strains out a smile towards the dog. Bleu sniffs the gravel as he walks towards Kylian and Aurie can only laugh as Kylian grows more noticeably worried.

“He’s not going to bite you,” she promises. She walks behind Bleu as he sniffs at Kylian’s shoes, scoffing as he moves up to sniff his legs. “He probably smells me all over you.”

Kylian lets out a breath, “He’s a lot bigger than I thought he would be.”

“Oh yeah,” she rubs her hands on her thigh, whistling for Bleu’s attention. Bleu licks Kylian’s hand before finding his way next to Aurie. “Are you scared of dogs?”

Kylian shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if he had heard me coming behind you and the last thing I wanted was him thinking I was trying to attack you.”

Aurie smiles, leaning her head against his arm as the two of them walk to the front of her house. “He would’ve attacked you way before I noticed him if so. I wonder why he was out here alone. Maybe Camille dropped him off at my mom’s place and he wandered here.”

Kylian nods, looking down at Bleu’s wagging tail. He was growing more antsy as Aurie fumbled for her keys to unlock the door. She coos at Bleu to quiet down but he isn’t bulging. As she opens the door, Bleu runs inside and Kylian peers around, noticing the streamers and birthday banner before Aurie does.

“He’s so happy to be back,” she turns around, waiting for Kylian to move so that she can lock the door. He chuckles and she looks up at him, “What?”

He shrugs but his grin deepens. As she turns around, Camille and the rest of her family jump from behind the hallway and stairs, “Happy birthday!” Aurie jumps and crashes into Kylian’s chest. His large hand against her waist steadies her.

Simone runs to Aurie’s legs, holding out a flower for her, “Tatie Aurie, a daisy for you!”

“Ahhh, this is so pretty,” Aurie gushes.

“Happy birthday,” Simone cheeses and Aurie pulls her in for a hug. Simone goes up to Kylian and wraps a fistful of his shorts into her hand, “Bonjour, Keelan.”

Kylian laughs, “How are you, my little rockstar?”

“Mama says I have to be nicer to you,” she rocks on her heels. Her hands play with the ends of her skirt. “But I think I’m already nice to you and instead you have to be nice to me.”

Kylian only laughs harder, bending down to her level as Aurie goes and greets her family. He notices the way her mother hugs her tightly. He looks back at Simone, “I’m nice.”

Simone places a finger to her mouth, “Hmm…okay. I have an idea, how about we go outside and play with Bleu?”

He shakes his head, “And not eat the food your Mama made?”

She crosses her arm, pouting, “I don’t want to eat right now.”

He looks up to see Camille standing next to him, a small smile on her face, “Thank you for doing this for Aurie. I can see how she’s been working herself up these past two weeks.”

Kylian furrows his eyebrows. He knew she had been running around relentlessly at the beginning of his arrival, but she was still doing that? What had been tirelessly occupying her mind?

Bleu comes by and sniffs Simone’s face, earning a screech from her. The two of them wander off into the living room; Bleu is following closely behind her as she waves a lollipop in his face.

Camille nods at his leg, “I see the crutches are gone, that’s good at least.”

“This morning, Aurie says to take it easy.”

“She should take that advice for herself sometimes.”

Kylian looks at her, confused again at her comments about Aurie, “What is that supposed to mean?”

She simpers, “I’m worried she’s been stressing herself too much. I know they cut off funding for the Summer Gala, but some projects are okay to delay. Maybe a Fall Gala would be better.”

“A gala?”

“For her residents at the home.”

Kylian’s eyes search for Aurie, who’s deep into conversation with Raphael and Simone.

Camille’s smile saddens, “I just hope when finds out this doesn’t break her like her last job. And the one before that.” She pats Kylian’s arm as she leaves because Simone is beckoning her over.

Kylian only grows more puzzled as he stands there. How did Camille know this before Aurie? Before he can gather more answers, something furry and fluffy rubs against his leg. He looks down and sees a gray cat pressing her weight and wrapping her tail around his leg. He moves his leg as Maple’s bright brown eyes look up at him.

“Nope,” he mutters, walking off to the kitchen.

It wasn’t that he hated cats, he didn’t understand the fame around them. They aren’t large. They don’t go on walks like a dog. They scratch up the furniture and knock down everything in their path, and their litter boxes smell so rancidly every time they have to use the restroom. It didn’t make sense to him why someone would give up their house willingly for their feline.

Kylian helps Raphael pull a couple of chairs to Aurie’s small dining table. It was only going to fit four, but he and Aurie were going to be squished on one end while Simone sat between her parents. Aurie comes beside him, cheesing up at him. His legs go awry and Aurie expects it, nudging him towards the back of his chair.

“Clumsy boy,” she whispers and heat rushes to his cheeks. He ducks his head down bashfully as she chuckles, sitting down in the seat beside him.

He takes a seat and then Simone steals most of the conversation at the table. She talks about Bleu’s and Maple’s escapades while they were at her house and how the two of them would wake her up every morning.

Aurie snickers, knowing all too well what Simone meant. Her animals were relentless in the morning, especially whenever they entertained themselves, which consisted of the two of them wrestling each other until one of them let out a cry and they separated. Aurie rests her thigh against Kylian and he gives her a wink when she looks at him innocently. He smirks, shoving his thigh against hers playfully.

After the lunch, Simone steals Kylian from the table and the two of them sit on the floor and play with her dolls. Aurie catches his attention as she walks into the rehab room with her mother behind her. She sends him a smile as his brows only furrow, but then cringe at the sudden screech Simone lets out.

“Araignée!” She stands up quickly and hides behind Kylian’s shoulders, grasping onto them as Kylian looks for the spider in question.

He smashes it with his shoe, “It’s gone.”

“Thank you, Keelan,” she wipes the imaginary bead of sweat on her forehead and Kylian snorts. “Hmm, did Aurie fix your leg?” She stands in front of him, examining his outstretched leg.

“She fixed it a little bit.”

Simone pinches her fingers together, “A little bit? So you can’t kick a ball yet?”

“No.”

Simone nods and then runs away to her toy box outside, getting what Kylian can only assume is some other game of entertainment for the both of them.

---

Aurie chews on her bottom lip as she watches her mother touch the different equipment in the rehab room. She already knew by the look on her face that she wasn’t happy and she hated that Kylian and Simone were just right next door. She didn’t want little Simone to hear the two of them arguing, so she could only hope that Kylian was occupying her attention diligently.

“I mean look at this place,” Elina starts, waving her arms around the room. Aurie sniffles, quickly wiping away the tear that threatens to spill out. “Are you going to keep rehabbing broken boys forever, Aurèle? Is that your plan? That’s Kylian fucking Mbappè out there!”

“I know,” Aurie says. It’s taking everything in her to hold in her anger.

“Do you not understand the problems that can cause? What if you don't complete a proper treatment on him, then what? You face a lawsuit—”

“That’s not going to happen, Maman. Besides, that can happen anywhere I work.”

“He’s a superstar, Aurèle. I know I said to get back into the football world but I didn’t mean for him to be your first.”

Aurie bites her tongue from spewing the first words in her head. She shakes her head, “Is that what you brought me in here for? So that you can criticize him and me?”

“I’m not criticizing him. He didn’t choose to do this,” she points out. Aurie scoffs, looking away from her. Elina steps closer to her, “You’re 25 now. You’re not a kid anymore. You need to get a real job; one that is stable for both you and your future. I’m not telling you to find a husband because you saw where that got me and your father, but a real job at least. Go back to PSG or the hospital because that damn nursing home is holding you back.”

Aurie steps away from her, “It’s not, and it’s a real job. I work there five days a week just like you did. I’ve never had problems before with money and I’ve always been overly-cautious. This? What I’m doing right now is a favor for Martin. I didn’t ask for any of this, but I’m doing it either way—”

“That man is in love with you!” Elina glares. “Everyone can see it, Aurèle. What are you going to do when he wants to tell you to the public?”

Aurie chokes on her own breath, coughing hoarsely to catch it. Kylian’s poor attempt of hiding his longing glances had caught up to them. Only a fool would miss the looks between them, and her mother was certainly no fool.

Elina crosses her arms, “Is that why you haven’t gone back to PSG or the hospital? Because it will only complicate things?”

“No!” Aurie yells. “I’m not going back there, okay? I still do everything I was taught and more at the nursing home. They’re a family there and everyone is always happy to see me—”

Elina raises her hand to stop Aurie from talking, “I hope you’re able to sustain it and that you don’t run away from this job like the last. What are you going to do when one of your patient’s passes away?”

Aurie’s eyes widened, “How could you say that?”

“I’m being realistic.”

“You’re being inconsiderate,” Aurie replies. She didn’t like talking back to her mother, but sometimes it was better to speak than wallow in the conversations of what she should’ve said.

Elina opens her mouth to speak but Aurie beats her to it.

“And I have lost patients already,” Aurie continues, “you’ve never asked so I never said anything. It’s hard, but I move on because I have a village supporting me. Treating Kylian like the ‘superstar’ he may be is undermining his entire character. He is a lot more than that, just ask Simone. He is also someone I have to heal, not you, me. I know what I’m doing with him just like how I knew what I was doing with you.”

Elina gapes but Aurie is fed up. She shakes her head and turns away from her, hoping that she takes the sign to leave the room. Aurie knew that her mother was always going to have doubts about her profession but it was her life to live. It was her life. She knew how easily her mother could control her mind because she had done it her entire life. She always tried to appease her mother in whatever way that meant, even if it went against her own interests. Aurie played football for years as a child and teen even though she absolutely despised playing. The only way she finally stopped was by faking an injury, which may have been her biggest regret, especially after watching the disappointment on her mother’s face grow as Aurie showed her her actual interests.

The door shuts and Aurie lets out a shaky breath. She squeezes her eyes closed to stop the tears, but they only want to flow more freely. She gives herself a moment to cry for the loss, and spark of courage she felt for speaking her mind against her mother’s wishes. It needed to be done. She would reach out to her mother in a week after it all simmered down.

Aurie dries her eyes and makes sure she looks presentable before stepping out into the main room again. Kylian gives her a concerned look from the ground while Simone pats his head. She flashes him a smile and then finds Camille, needing comfort from her sister.

---

Aurie scrambles to wipe away her tears as she hears a knock on her door, while Maple sleeps quietly in her cat tree. Kylian on the other end of the door can hear the sudden movement and her sniffles. His heart pangs, “Aurie?”

“Are you okay?” she asks, glancing into the mirror to check how red her eyes are.

Kylian wants to gawk at her audacity of asking him if he’s okay when he’s able to hear her sobs across the hallway. His knuckles rap against the door again, “Can I come in?”

Her shoulders sink at the inability to hide her puffy cheeks and irritated eyes. She twists the doorknob slowly and opens the wooden door to a worried Kylian who starts pushing the door harder to be let in. His eyes scan her legs in her pajama shorts, and then rake up towards her black tank top until they land on her tear-stained cheeks.

“Chèrie,” he whispers. His hands find their way to both of her cheeks immediately, her frown is squished between his palms. “What’s wrong?”

“Today was a lot,” she laments. Kylian’s heart is crumbling by the second as he listens to her wobbly voice. “I don’t get it.” Aurie’s voice chokes as warm tears drip down against Kylian’s thumbs. He’s quick to wipe them away and then pull her close to him, wrapping his arms tightly against her head.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I thought it would be a good idea to invite them—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she sniffles, pulling away from him. “My mom is just…a lot.”

Kylian dejects, “Do you want to talk about it?” He guides her to her bed and he pushes her to sit down, but she doesn’t. Instead, she moves out of his grasp and walks the stretch of her bedroom. He plops down on the end of her bed to watch her. He notices Maple arching her back to stretch, then hopping down and jumping onto her bed, loafing at the other end.

He wants to whisper ‘useless’ towards her, but Aurie’s grunt grabs his attention, “She isn’t happy with me. She hasn’t been for years and I don’t understand why she has all these expectations of me. I mean I’m happy, I’m doing what I love—working at a place that I really care about, but somehow it’s not enough. Ever since her accident, she has always looked down at me this way. Like I should be doing more.” She huffs, sitting down next to Kylian and crossing her arms. “As if what she’s doing is any better.”

Kylian watches her silently. The tension between her eyebrows only grows and a scowl grows more and more.

“She’s upset that I didn’t continue at Marseille or PSG for that matter. That I quit working at the hospital and am now working at a nursing home that pays significantly less. She says I should’ve fought harder, that I’m wasting my years doing this, but I’m not.”

Aurie walks to the end of her bedroom, swinging her body around to walk towards the other end. Kylian stands up, and then takes small steps towards her.

“And I mean she acts like I don’t have a heart,” she spits. “That I quit because I stopped caring, or that I was scared of commitment. I mean are you kidding me? I had her in my home for two years! Two years of listening to her complain, and then also having my dad scream at me about her treatment. I had to kick my own dad out of the house so she could progress because he kept thinking I was too hard on her. Like what? I’m supposed to go ‘easy’ on a spinal cord injury? As if I wouldn’t know that?”

She spins again on her toes, her voice trembling with both rage and exhaustion. If she had known stepping into that rehab room with her mother was going to be a lecture, she would’ve never followed her into that room. It was debilitating to live her life knowing her mother was right behind her, criticizing every move of hers. How she was able to hold herself up for the rest of the night surprised her.

Kylian crosses his arms, looking down at the teary glow of her eyes, “How was her treatment?”

She huffs, shrugging, “It was hard. I mean, a spinal cord injury is delicate. It’s everything all at once. It’s learning how to live again, not knowing what the progress will actually be like.” She sits down on the edge of her wooden bed frame. “My dad and her moved in here together. My dad didn’t trust himself to be able to take care of her so I offered to help. I offered to do everything. And then once the rehab portion of it started, my dad would watch us, despite me telling me that he probably wouldn’t like it. It was stress-inducing. My mother is an impatient person, so she would get frustrated when she couldn’t grasp the shapes and squeeze them into their correct spot. I would encourage her but sometimes it wasn’t enough.”

Kylian sits down next to her and Aurie plays with the hem of his shorts, tracing the French emblem.

“There were days where she got it; the shapes were easy and matching the colors didn’t phase her. But then there would be days where she would regress, where she couldn’t carry the one kilogram weight she had to. Where she would scream that it was too much and that she wanted a break, but we couldn’t take a break because everything she learned would be gone the next day if so. My dad got so upset at listening to us that he finally yelled at me one day to stop,” Aurie wipes the tear that rushes out of her eye and then caresses Kylian’s fingers. “Somehow, my dad yelling at me only awakened my mother’s will to continue. She woke me up the next morning by telling me how bad she wanted to get better. How grateful she was for me helping her, and that she wanted me to help her get better, even if she was begging me to stop.”

“And?” he runs his finger across her ear, trying to delicately soothe her.

She shakes her head wistfully, “I pressed on. My mom and I got far but my dad was still there, watching us closely. There was a day where she had to pick herself up from the ground in the event she fell. She was already starting to gain most of her control in her arms and upper body, but she still had trouble moving her legs, so we were working on picking herself up from the ground to her wheelchair. It was difficult because her legs still vividly shook and trying to get back up was hard for her. She started to groan, like it was hurting her, but it was just her trying to will herself up. My dad heard the noise and walked in and absolutely lost it. He yelled at the both of us for doing the exercise when my mother was ‘clearly in pain.’ But she wasn’t.”

Aurie looks at the door, already hearing the pitter patter of Bleu’s paws coming down the hall. He bumps the door open, sitting right in front of her and resting his head on her thigh for comfort. Aurie pets his folded ears.

“Anyways, the next day I realized I couldn’t continue on with the both of them in the house, so I told him he had to leave and go back to the house across the field. Him and my mom got into this big argument and then shortly afterward he moved to Spain…only visiting a couple of times for the next two years. My mom chose me that day, but sometimes it feels like I’m the one who was left. Like she blames me for leaving him.”

Kylian shakes his head, grazing her chin so that she looks at him, “You aren’t the reason he left. That was their own relationship, it had nothing to do with you”

She shrugs, wishing it was true. She looks away from him, “As if her and I’s relationship is any better.”

Kylian purses his lips together, meanwhile Bleu whines as Aurie sniffles again. I know, Kylian silently says to Bleu.

“She didn’t want me to leave the hospital. I worked at the hospital as the in-patient therapist, working with different age groups but I mainly did pediatrics. Kids. My first patient was a boy from the Netherlands,” Aurie leans her head against Kylian’s shoulder while he wraps his arm around her. “He was seven and loved to play football. He was really good and apparently played for the U10 Netherlands team and everything, but he suddenly couldn’t keep his legs straight. His knees kept knocking into each other that they finally got it checked out. Once they realized it was a lot more serious than they thought, he and his mother took a train to Paris. So here I was, having to rehab a boy who suddenly couldn’t walk but only wanted to run.”

Kylian kisses her forehead, wanting her to continue but he can hear the sorrow in her voice. Wherever this was going, it wasn’t going to be easy for her to say. He grabs a hold of her hand, clasping his fingers with hers.

“His disease had progressed too long before he had come to us. I mean, his thigh bone—the top part of it—was dying a little every day. Blood had stopped flowing to it, perhaps a year before they initially came to us. The bone had been decaying since then. He would walk with a limp because the bone didn’t fit into the hole of his pelvis anymore. And so we had to wait. Wait to see if the bone would fix itself as he grew, or if he would have to have surgery. It was restless, he just wanted to play football and I had to sit there and get creative with his healing process. I helped him with his school work at times because he wouldn’t be in the mood to do his rehab. Talking with his mother was depressing because she would tell me how the little boys on their street always played ball and he couldn’t join him.

“Eventually, as his thigh bone was starting to regrow, the damage had already been done from him fighting through the pain and discomfort for the last year while playing. He had to have surgery and came out defeated. It was difficult to initially help him out and it hurt. It hurt watching this boy go from being so bright, a laugh that filled the entire room to just this sad, battered boy that lost all the hope in him. He was going to be eight soon, and it was like all the life was already sucked out of him. It was to him at least, because once you tell that same boy that he can play again, you see the hope go back into his eyes, but I knew he only had a couple of years. I knew that it wasn’t going to last long. By the time he’s fifteen, the arthritis in his hip will be so bad that he’ll have to give up the sport. But he doesn’t know that. I never had the guts to tell him.”

Kylian’s frown grows the longer she speaks. He couldn’t imagine having a disease that stopped his ability to play. One that suddenly occurred without a warning. “What’s his name?”

“Stefan.”

“How old is he now?”

“Ten. His birthday was in April. I worked with him for years, and once he was finally released, I quit. I couldn’t bear to have another kid and strip away their dreams.”

Kylian’s hand squeezes hers while his other turns her head to look at him. His chest aches at the tiredness of her eyes, but most of all, the confusion. The confusion from her mother’s attitude towards her and wondering when it will finally change. He gives her a small smile, “You didn’t strip away Stefan’s dreams. You gave him a couple of more years.”

“He doesn’t even know, Kylian.” He’s quick to wipe the tears away that follow her trembling voice.

“You gave him a couple of more years, Aurie. Years that he wouldn’t have had,” he whispers. “You also gave him answers to what was happening with his body. He may hate it now, but as he grows up, he’ll be thankful for how hard you tried to fix it.”

Aurie chews on her lips, listening to the sounds of Kylian’s careful breathing. His thumb pinches her bottom lip, tugging it, and she groans, “Stop it.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m okay.”

He sighs, “Don’t bite it.”

“It’s a force of habit,” she mumbles. Her tired body slumps against his chest, relishing in the feel of his chin resting on top of her head and his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her hand plays with the small hair on the back of his neck and he purses his lip at the ticklish feel.

“How about you get some rest?” he asks. His voice vibrates the rest of his body as she sighs comfortably against him.

“Sleep with me.”

He looks down at her, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We could put a pillow between us if—”

He chuckles, kissing her forehead, “I don’t want a pillow.”

“I don’t either,” she smiles. Kylian presses his lips against her eagerly smile, excited that he could cause her to smile.

She lets out another breathy sigh as she pulls away, “I’m super thirsty…I don’t know why.”

He pecks her forehead as he stands up, “Stay here, I’ll go and grab you the glass.”

He’s quick to fetch her a glass of water, wanting to be in her arms again comforting her. He didn’t care if Aurie would probably knock out the second he returned with the glass. If he could hold her while she slept, he would die happy.

As he makes his way up the stairs, he hears Bleu letting out the same whine he had whenever Aurie was crying earlier. He quickens his pace, grimacing as his calf reminds him to slow down. He nearly drops the glass on the floor when he hears Aurie’s mewl of pain.

“Aurie!”

“I’m okay,” she rasps. She’s holding onto the right side of her pelvis while laying on the floor. She wasn’t on the floor when he left him so he could only imagine that she must’ve fallen.

“You don’t look okay,” he kneels down next to her, handing her the glass.

She shoos it away, “You’re going to hate this.” Her hand presses deep into the spot of pain as she grits her teeth. She whines as another spasm of pain occurs and tries her hardest to muffle the sound through her closed lips.

“What is it?” Kylian tries to move her hand but her death grip won’t allow him. “You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be scared,” she cries. “I think my appendix is about to rupture and we need to go to the hospital now.”

“Your appendix?” he shrieks. Bleu barks at him and Kylian frets, looking back at Aurie concerned.

“Don’t panic because you’re going to scare him.”

“I’m really fucking scared right now,” Kylian whispers quickly. “Are you going to die?”

“No,” she groans. “But this hurts a lot, Kylian, and we need to go before this actually does rupture and becomes a bigger issue.”

Kylian lets out a groggily noise, “Bigger?!”

She presses her hand against his cheek, trying to rub the worry away, “You need to breathe, okay? Just breathe. I’m going to give you ten seconds to freak out and then you’re going to pretend you know how to drive and take me to the hospital, okay? It’s a five minute drive, and there aren't any cars on the roads right now. The hospital is right next to the nursing home, right before it, you’ve seen it before. Okay? Ten seconds starts now.”

Kylian rapidly shakes his head, “I can’t drive you!”

“Four, five—”

“Aurie, listen, I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Seven, eight—”

“Fuck, chèrie,” Kylian curses as he watches the sweat drip down her temples. Her breathing was starting to get more ragged the longer she counted and he couldn’t handle listening to her moan in pain. It was like nails on a chalkboard to his ears.

Tonight was going to be his first time behind the wheel of a car, albeit with someone he cared deeply about.

------

Note: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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sashimiyas · 2 years

Text

TIme is a fickle thing

Summary: Suna’s patience runs thin while he waits for you to give him an I love you back

Word count: 2.7k

Genre: angst; ex husband Suna and ex wife reader; the fourth installment; depictions of an unhealthy relationship; one threat of violence; Suna is quite volatile but that is the theme

A/n: they make me so emosh! if you want a happy ending, stick with Back to shore. Otherwise, this is a continuation to Frost

Cutting open a scar doesn’t undo the evidence of the first gash.

Suna realizes quickly but he cannot help but press, indent his affections as though it could erase former transgressions. Yet it’s hard to ignore your watery expression whenever he whispers the three words, the way you retreat whenever he tries to progress forward. His intentions are sincere and yet this feels like punishment.

Why does loving you always feel so guilty?

Suna leaves your front door once again defeated and maybe just a little hopeless. He doesn’t want to say it, but the novelty of it all, of the I love you’s spoken as greetings, whimsy, as alibis on the good natured jokes he likes to tease you with, and the farewells, it’s turned into an onerous load that he struggles to bear.

And he’s mad at himself for thinking that, for being so hypocritical when he told you he could wait, mad at himself for fucking up everything because it wouldn’t be like this, feel like this if the past didn’t happen.

It must be his fault for thinking things would have changed.

When has he not agonized over your existence, rueing it and thanking whatever it is that brought you into his life. The turn of this new chapter seduced him into the idea of a happy ending when it’s anything but. Suna feels like he’s sprinting to the finish line that doesn’t seem to exist.

He takes a scalding hot shower once he gets home that blots his back pink in the fresh shape of misery. The downpour mixes with his tears. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he hears his sobs echo back at him.

What’s even sorrier is the way his eyes shine when he wishes you good night. The message is filled with stupid emojis and a cheesy Facebook mom meme for good measure because he knows they irritate you in the it’s only funny because it’s from you kind of way. How pitiful it is that he cannot settle into bed until he receives something back.

And it’s still not an I love you.

So Suna lays on his mattress in the shape of a star and he stares at his ceiling. He replays the moments he’s spent with you, a practice he’s now done for the past few weeks, considers every action he’s made, and he tallies all the smallest missteps that have led him astray.

Maybe he does need to rein in his affections with the way you’re no closer to saying it back. He can’t tell if he’d rather be strung along by the imaginary pull of possibility or for it to dangle and rest beneath your tongue. While he laments his situation, a budding weed grows in between his ribs, resentment in the shape of a thorn.

There’s an apathy that slackens his gait when he meets with you the next day. He’s so used to walking on eggshells that this liberation feels heavy. Downtrodden when he greets you and you notice immediately.

“Rin?” you ask in a tiny voice. Suna’s hands, curled in his hoodie pouch because all he wants right now is to protect himself, forgets all about it. Fuck self preservation when you look at him like that with a concern for his wellbeing that makes him actually feel important.

Your warmth stings into the cold of his palms. Fingers blindly reach into the spaces between his and you look at him imploringly and Suna finds himself wanting to apologize.

He sees a vision of his past, of a fast fashion blazer and documents with two separate signatures. That precedence makes him weary, that despondent expression of yours one he’d never want to be the cause of again. The man pulls you in and desperately mumbles an I’m sorry into your temple.

“It’s nothing,” he assures, “don’t worry.”

“Hey, you poop,” you peel yourself from him with a small push of his hips. “What’s wrong?”

You trace the bones underneath your fingertips and blink while you patiently wait. Suna wants to tell you, wants to bare himself open because that’s all he’s ever wished. He wants to be true and honest and completely yours but why won’t you tell him what he’s doing wrong? What is the secret to getting you to say that you love him back?

But then you slink your hand up his abdomen and he gets lost at the way it swims past his chest, sloping up his neck so that you can dig your fingers through his hair and tell him, “I’m worried.”

The sensation is sedating. He spills into you and you hold him carefully like a pile of unwound yarn. What was he thinking? What’s another lifetime to the years you’d spent separated? When all he had were memories and spared glances?

Suna pulls your other arm around his neck and draws himself to you. He inhales and leads you on top of him as he seats himself onto your barstool.

He likes the way you look above him, and it’s impossible not to admire you with the most adoring eyes. Suna settles on the fact that you’re real and in his lap and just barely his and decides to ignore everything else.

“I was being stupid,” he says distractedly as he brushes below your jaw with his knuckles. “Forget about it.”

“Are you sure? You can talk to me.” You pinch the strings of his hoodie in anxiousness, “shouldn’t we be more, I don’t know, open this time around?”

“Yeah? You have some shit to complain about?”

Suna laughs at the face you make, puckered and suspiciously sweet, “your feet are fucking cold.”

The athlete has to kiss you to stop himself from laughing too hard.

“I’m serious! They’re like icicles and they wake me up at night.”

Your giggles join his when he tickles your ribs, a perfect symphony he orchestrated. Happiness is shared and it’s with you.

“I’ll wear socks if you buy me them. I’ve always wanted some weed socks.”

“You don’t even smoke.”

“But they look cool.”

You snort, “okay. That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Suna nods with his eyes on your lips. He drags you down to him and his eager lips, “that’s it.”

He feels like he’s holding the sun in his arms. It’s amazing how your body can hold all the warmth that he’ll ever need and the fear wanes into nothing but words of adoration.

“I love you,” words fluidly slipped between chaste chasing of lips.

You kiss him instead of saying it back.

And the illusion shatters. Suna presses his feet against the floor so he could move back, creating distance between the two of you. He holds his arms out straight to push you away.

You still on top of him. Concern is apparent on your face and there’s a piece of him, that thorny little bud, that just hates the look of it.

“What’s wrong?”

“You tell me.”

You sputter as if he’s said something absolutely inane and that anger, the one he thought had burned away, coils tighter around the bones in his chest.

“What are you—? Nothing.” With the moment lost, you step out of his lap and stand in front of him with a helpless shrug. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Suna finds himself standing too. He’s defensive and scared. He’s offered everything he has so what does he do now that he still isn’t enough?

“Then why do you look like you’re going to cry every time I tell you I love you?”

He watches the way you recoil into yourself. You hunch over with pinched shoulders as if to shield your heart and the image stings when he’s opened up his ribs and left his on display.

“Why do you make me feel guilty for the way that I feel?”

Your face breaks in devastation, but Suna is too busy being swallowed by the depths of frustration to even care.

“I don’t mean to. I’m just—“

“You’re just what?” he goads, then fills the silence of your response with his pent up rage. “Scared? Again? Like I’m fucking not?”

Suna’s breathing erratically and his heart is working just as hard. He wants to break something, run some sprints, he doesn’t fucking know. Just do something to rid himself of this feeling.

And all you do is just stare at him wordlessly with no response. Just the same as every time he bares his feelings for you and he’s had enough of talking to a fucking wall.

“Say something because clearly anything that comes out of my mouth hurts you.”

“Rin,” you plead with a step forward. He flinches away slightly, making you halt in your step. “I’m sorry. Let’s talk this out.”

All he does is look at you because Suna can’t trust the words that could slip between his lips You try to reach for him again and he lets you place your hand on his forearm. He gulps at the touch, swallowing a despair that builds in his throat, but makes no move to pull you in.

“I—“ your expression is distraught. You stumble over the vowel repeatedly, dancing on the precipice of everything he desires. “I-I… I’m— I…” you shut your eyes and shake him in your grip, head pressed against his chest. “I’m trying. I want to.”

“Is it me?” Suna has to ask though the crack in his voice makes it difficult.

“No. No, it’s—“

“It’s what?”

“It’s us.”

If Suna thought he was broken then, he doesn’t know what he is now.

“You’re my ex-husband.”

He takes your hands in his, “and I don’t want to be that anymore.”

“Me neither,” your eyes shine at him in a plea, “I don’t want that either, I promise. I’m just so confused and I need time to think it out and talk it out. I’ve been talking to my friends and Komori’s been helping me—“

“Wait,” Suna whips his wrist to loosen your grip on him, “who is Komori?”

His newfound rage has your hands reaching for him. They wave in the air as if trying to smother his fire but Suna only repeats himself with a singular step back.

“Mo-motoya,” you finally tell him while looking guilty.

“Motoya?” He laughs at the name. Something viscous builds in his gut and it takes too long for him to realize it’s jealousy. The feeling is almost unrecognizable and Suna realizes it’s because he can’t remember the last time he was.

Regret? Yearning? Self pity? Yes, a perfect cocktail for an ex husband but jealousy had never been in the mix. He wasn’t allowed to, not when Suna knew his place in your life as someone on the outside, as someone who once was.

Now he is someone who is. He is yours. He could be all that you need.

“Since when was Motoya your friend?”

“After we divorced. He reached out to me.”

Suna’s barely cognizant. Rage clouds his mind along with the memories of his teammate offhandedly asking about your wellbeing on occasion. He thought that concern was for him when in reality, he’d been talking to you behind his back.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“We just got divorced and he—“

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to say it.” Suna runs a hand across his eyes, tired of looking at you for once with that confused expression like you’ve never done anything wrong. Are you blind to what you’re doing to him? Do you even care? Have you been leading him on this whole time? Is this your version of some sick and twisted plot for revenge? “I know that’s all you see me for. You hate me for it. I’m the guy who fucked up. I’m the ex husband. That’s all I am and that’s why you can’t even say you love me back.”

You don’t even grace him with a response and that’s enough to prove that he’s right. The confirmation forces fury to flow into his palms.

“That’s why… that’s why you can’t even talk to me– why you’re talking to Motoya.”

“Everything’s so complicated,” you murmur. “Don’t you talk to your friends about us too?”

Suna’s never considered it. He never needed advising because with you as one of the options, who else would he choose?

He follows your example anyways even if it’s out of spite. Suna’s never been a guy to air out his laundry but if that’s what you want to do, then he will too.

Osamu meets him at his house at the whim of his call. Perks of being your own boss, he guesses. The man mostly responds with facial expressions as he explains his situation on their journey to dinner, refraining from offering advice unless prompted.

He does whisper into Suna’s ear when they enter the restaurant, grazing an elbow against his, “ya gonna be alright?”

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Ya know he would have never brought him if he knew,” Osamu pulls him back by the sleeve when the athlete takes a step forward, “ya know that’s how Tsumu is. They’re in their puppy love stage.”

Love. The sound of the word brews an acrid taste in his mouth.

Osamu senses the oversight of his word choice and tries to correct himself, “I mean, they’re attached to the hip right now, ya know?”

“They’ve been together for a year. How are they not tired of each other at this point?”

“Rintaro.” It’s all Osamu says and it sounds a little too familiar to their former captain. It instinctually has him straightening his spine without pushback. The sound of it rattles across his skin: a warning, a reminder.

So Suna takes a breath. He’s different. He’s grown and Osamu allows him to approach the table despite his initial hesitations.

“Oh, Suna, Samu,” Atsumu happily greets. Their arrival has Sakusa removing their intertwined fingers from the table but just by Atsumu’s expression, he can tell they’re now holding hands underneath it.

Suna does his best to commit to his unaffected persona when he sits next to Komori’s cousin with Osamu opposite of him and near his brother. The chef prompts him with a thumbs up every so often, a questionable look whenever they cross gazes. He waves him off every time, focusing on his phone that he closes and reopens apps on. Who was he to think time has changed? You haven’t reached out to him since he walked out on your last argument. It was stupid of him to think any of this would turn out different.

“Hey, Suna,” the man glares when his shin is struck with a shoe. Tsumu simply dismisses it. “Aren’t ya the one that called us out tonight? Why ya staring at ya phone then.”

Samu nudges his brother a warning that the other doesn’t seem to catch.

“What? Omi and I were planning a movie night and then all of a sudden Suna calls to meet– Hey!” Atsumu dodges his brother’s smack and counters with his own precise hit, “I’m just saying! He should hang out if he actually wanted to.”

“Shut up Tsumu,” Suna’s patience is running thin and really, he didn’t even want to do this. He wants to be in your bed or his, with you. He wants the two of you to be okay and maybe he’s being unreasonable. This is confusing and Suna might be asking a lot. He should text–

Slam.

“What the hell is up with ya, Suna?” Equipped with his famously menacing glare, Atsumu’s halfway up his seat and leaned over the table, “ya call us out but then ya decide to ignore us all night.”

Osamu is already pushing his brother away to diffuse the situation but Suna's always been petty, “I called you and Samu.”

He goes on to glare at Sakusa who comprehends much quicker than his boyfriend. The man doesn’t even spare him a glance.

He simply stands up and says, “let’s go, Atsumu.”

It makes Suna laugh because who is he to be all high and mighty when he has a cousin who, the whole time they’ve been teammates, never mentioned he’d been talking to you? Who never once felt compelled to tell him what should have been a harmless truth?

“Sure, see ya. But Sakusa?” Everyone turns to face him, “tell your cousin to keep my wife’s name out of his mouth.”

Sakusa spares him with a blank expression. He allows a single moment to pass.

“Do you mean ex wife? Or did you happen to marry another sorry woman on a whim?”

Vows aren’t meant to be broken but maybe Sakusa’s fucking face is.

#reina.writeshaikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu angst #suna rintaro angst #currently sleeping rn! she’s q’d bc live reactions are scary

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