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isagisyoichi · 3 years

Note

how do u think the boy would be in a party😈😈

NEW RULES!

SYNOPSIS: blue lock at a party

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, rin, chigiri, naruhaya, niko, nanase, gagamaru, kunigami

WARNINGS: mentions of underage drinking and weed (but no one actually takes anything), swearing, mentions of throwing up and food, again pretend they're all friends and go to the same school because it's more fun to think that way. ooc rin maybe? idk i like pretending he's not as miserable as the manga makes him out to be 🤗 he deserves to have fun i think

A/N: no cause this was soooo fun to write tysm anon, i got through this in a flash cause i loved this suggestion sm :') literally one of the most fun requests i've ever gotten eeee!!!!! also this made me miss my irls bye corona can suck my balls fr

ISAGI YOICHI:

i feel like this would be his first big party aw lol, so he’s kind of nervous LMAO.

gets handed a beer by someone, has his first sip of it ever, and immediately spits it out. mutters “how the hell can anyone drink this?” and “discreetly” pours the rest into a bush.

mainly stays with nagi, chigiri, kunigami, and bachira and they just talk throughout the night

(bachira only sits down and talks after his energy dies down. i'll elaborate on this below the cut).

keeps asking nagi “what song is this?” throughout the night LOL. makes a mental note of what songs to add to his playlists.

slightly nods his head to the music, aw cute. goes a little harder and lip syncs/raps along when he really likes the song, though (i stand by my word when i said he loves “neon guts”)

does accidentally bump into someone, but isagi starts a convo with them after he apologizes, and they hit it off right away 🥰

but, the person left early and isagi, ever the dummy, forgets to ask for their number.

and he's actually so disappointed in himself when he realizes, too 😭

BACHIRA MEGURU:

not drunk or anything at all, but boy, the way he’s acting makes it seem like he is.

the self proclaimed “life of the party.”

can be found “dancing,” though i use that word generously because to classify whatever he’s doing as “dancing,” is a stretch, to every song, even if he doesn’t know the words LOL

really likes when throwbacks come on!!!! he does dance to the lyrics and not the beat sometimes, though 😭

but, bachira looks like he’s having so much fun, it’s so cute, he’s definitely been waiting for this moment his whole life 🥰

if you were dancing with him, bachira would 100% take you by the hand and spin you around

also forces gets isagi to dance with him but isagi’s so awkward 😭

bachira also ends up jumping in the pool sometime later that night. yells “cannonball!” and everything, like, okay michael phelps 😭

he doesn’t have extra clothes so reo has to give him some and they're so fucking big on him LOLLL

texts the groupchat “i was sooo crazy last night😂” in the morning LMAOO, okay babe calm down

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE:

takes it upon himself to make sure none of his friends die LOL

only drinks water and diet coke 👍

his mom calls in the middle of the party to ask how he's doing and bachira and nagi are doing stupid shit like yelling “pass the weed” and fake moaning 😭

isagi and chigiri tell him to tell her they say hi LOL

really likes when the dj puts on 90s/2000's r&b/hiphop songs (i'll die by my hc that kunigami's an oldies fan)

mostly sways side to side to the music, but he did also dance a little, per request of bachira, and ended up talking to a cute person a for little, too 🤗

offers to help clean up in the morning

CHIGIRI HYOUMA:

at least two drunk girls have mistaken him for their friend, and another four have asked to touch his hair.

tried to use one of reo’s many bathrooms, found a couple making out, outwardly said “gross,” and then left to find another one 😭

nods his head and taps his foot to the music, not much of a dancer.

also a people-watcher, and he points out things he sees are happening to his friends.

“guys, i think misa and her boyfriend are breaking up, look.” leave that poor girl alone bro 😭

finds himself laughing a lot that night because damn! his friends are funny, whether they try to be or not.

not really a party person, but chigiri actually had a lot of fun 🥰

NARUHAYA ASAHI:

also on the dancefloor! doesn’t really dance, per say, but he jumps up and down and does the fist pump thing 😭 he has the spirit, let's give him that.

drank a lot of soda, so he’s filled with energy. also pees in at least three of reo's bathrooms.

talks to his friends, but also makes new ones! also i feel like he takes a lot of pictures LOL. he needs the finsta content 😭

plays truth or dare, or something like that. ends up having to do some stupid shit like smack raichi’s ass and run away, but naruhaya did make out with the girl next to him, so fair trade, he thinks.

also ends up in the pool, but he’s playing chicken with gagamaru and some other people. does not win a single round, but he had fun 😇

leaves with like four plates of food and one of reo’s decorative towels for some reason???

GAGAMARU GIN:

goes through a bunch of reo's shit 😭 he's not taking anything, but he's just curious LOL

strikes up very, random conversations with a bunch of people out of nowhere, good for him!

weirdly good at darts, very good aim.

although one round, naruhaya accidentally distracted gagamaru and one of darts ended up in reo's wall 💔

“it's fine, he has the money to fix it,” naruhaya shrugs as he walks away from reo's now punctured, wall. so true bestie!

gagamaru somehow ends up giving some drunk stranger some “life-changing” advice. (whether it's good or not is debatable)

they thank gagamaru for changing their life and he never sees them again

NAGI SEISHIRO:

irritates the fuck out the dj because nagi keeps asking him to play one specific song over and over again.

it was good the first time, don't wear it out for the rest of us bae 😭

doesn't really dance, just nods his head, maybe raps along a little, too

when he talks to the girls that come up to him, nagi says stuff like “yeah, the host and i go way back, we’re best friends.”

“way back,” my ass, but whatever nagi 🤨

knocks out in one of reo’s guest rooms. someone finds him when they’re trying to look for the bathroom and they draw a mustache and a bunch of other stupid shit on him 😭

tries to leave before reo makes him help clean up in the morning. does not work 👍

dumbass also ended up losing his phone (reo bought him a new one so nagi doesn't really care)

RAICHI JINGO:

gasses himself up sooo much when he’s trying to hit on girls.

“yeah, i'm about to go D1 after high school, just wait on it,” yeah, okay raichi 🙄

also tries to show them his highlights, bye. babe, i mean this in the nicest possible way but, i do not care, can we just kiss 🙏

i feel like he’s one of those boys who likes to take his shirt off for no reason, so raichi most definitely ends up shirtless at some point of the night 😭

takes pictures with reo’s fancy cars in his garage to flex 💀 gets annoyed when reo says raichi can’t drive them. raichi doesn't even have his license 😑

plays pool and is actually not that bad. does almost accidentally blind isagi with his cue, though.

IMAMURA YUUDAI:

he's with some girls but, he’s a dummy and he didn’t know his other hoes would be there, so imamura had quite a few drinks spilled on him here and there.

still somehow leaves with like three new girls snaps, four numbers, and a bunch of lipstick stains. not even gonna lie, i respect his game.

actually a really good dancer, and he knows he looks good, too. knows the words to every drake song that comes on, argue with your mom.

lip-syncs the words to you when you dance together and it makes you more flustered than you would think 🙄

the type to pull you close and wraps his arms around your waist or around your neck

actually really fun to talk to. always in the loop with drama and stuff, so he's always got some interesting conversation topics. and he's funny 😭

MIKAGE REO:

obviously, the party’s at his house. what’s the point of having a rich teammate if you can’t exploit them for their possessions?

jokes, but reo did offer to throw it at his mansion house in the first place.

actually really likes throwing parties lmao, so he jumped at the opportunity.

posted on his snap, “party at my place su for address‼️” LOL

natural charm + raised with good manners = reo being an amazing host

but, reo does have a little group of girls following him around the entire night 👎

and it irritates the hell out of whoever reo’s trying to talk to because they’re all up on him, making it hard for reo to pay attention 😑

also doesn’t help that he entertains them and flirts back and dances with a couple of them, too

and looks good when he dances, too UGH!!!! he's the type to run his hands up and down your body while he dances with you 😣

i hate this man 👎 /j

ITOSHI RIN:

practicing. he didn’t come. sike! rin has a social life, too, come on now, y'all 🙄

talked a big game about how he wouldn’t show up then he still came anyways, like rin, what 😭??

super good at cup pong and he knows it. he keeps beating ryusei and if you look closely, rin has something reminiscent of a smirk on his face.

a foot-tapper, not a dancer, which sucks because he’s not even bad at dancing, either 👎

a couple of girls come up to rin to flirt, but rin doesn’t give them the time of day. no response or anything just a little side eye 😭

rin just talks to his friends and that’s it, really.

actually internally glad for the chance to kickback and relax for once, tbh.

but, he refuses to admit he had any semblance of fun. (he did, rin’s just a weenie 😒)

NIKO IKKI:

the team forced him to come 😭

niko’s already a homebody and he doesn’t like loud noises or large social scenes, so he wasn’t too jazzed about going somewhere where the both of those things combine.

also he's picky with music so LOL. does like that one remix to the pursuit of happiness, though

he’s a wall-stander, i hate to break it to y’all. just watched everything from a distance and didn't talk to anyone except for isagi and his friends.

bye, if you don’t get off the damn wall and dance (he'd dance with me i'm different 🥰🤗)

keeps opening and closing his phone so he looks busy but that mf is literally just going through the settings app 😭

called his mom to bring him home an hour and a half in 👎

NANASE NIJIROU:

i hate to admit it, but he’s the annoying first year that documents everything on snap bye

he’s just excited to be there but like, there is no reason for his story to be half an hour long.

i'm not watching all of that! sorry that happened to you or good for you 🤗

probably playing games like spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven. is very proud of himself for kissing four people in one night #bigmoves 🥳

stays with his group of friends and they're sooo loud and rowdy LMAOO. #firstyearthings

you can literally hear them laughing over the music, but they're having fun, so it's fine (at least of those kids hits people when they laugh too)

also dances, too! has super good energy and a natural sense of rhythm surprisingly 🥰 also a good hypeman!!!!! honestly, he's just really fun to be around tbh

overall, has a lot of fun, as you can tell by his story 😇

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alldayangst · 3 years

Text

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!”

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way.

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.”

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again.

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics.

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you.

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.”

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.”

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?”

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer.

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time.

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after.

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.”

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene.

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

#tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #lolbrosgetsicktoo

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kinkyjaems · 3 years

Text

7 Minutes with Nomin

Nomin Smut

Word count: 2.4K

Jaemin and Jeno x fem!reader

Includes: Smut, threesome

“You should wear this skirt” Your best friend Giselle hands you a short plaid skirt. You hold it in your hands until you decide you should wear it.

Mark and a couple of friends are having a party in their shared house and you and Giselle were invited. You were a bit nervous though. The thought of seeing Jaemin and Jeno made your heart bounce.

Lee Jeno, the sweet and most kind-hearted boy you know. He wouldnt hurt a fly. The way his eyes looked when he smiled, how got shy very easily, a little quiet and the cutest little beauty mark on his cheekbone made you smile without knowing.

Na Jaemin, the most confident person you’d ever met. He’s not afraid to say what’s on his mind. He knows he’s attractive. The way he pushes his hair back with his tongue poking his cheek. He can sometimes be a cute weirdo but just him looking at you is enough to make you swoon.

The only problem right now is that they both like you. Of course, Jaemin makes it more obvious by holding you, bringing his lips so close as if he’s about to kiss you but then quickly pulling back. And Jeno, sending you cute messages throughout the day like “I went out today to eat but I wish you were with me :(“ and “I walked past a flower shop and saw some roses that were as beautiful as you”. If one were to ask you out, you wouldn’t know what to do. You did wanna break the other heart and ruin your friendship.

“You okay?” Giselle looked at you a bit worried, seeing the way you were lost in thought. “Yeah, I’m fine” you replied with a small smile. “Okay well, let's go party!” She dragged you out of the house and into a taxi.

The whole taxi ride was torture. You couldn’t stop thinking about what could happen. You can never really expect what happens at a party. You hookup, you drink until you were knocked out, you get sick all over the house.. so many thoughts were making their way into your brain as you got closer to the house.

You ring the doorbell and way welcomed my Mark giving you a huge hug. “Hey guys, so glad you could make it. You can have a seat over here if you want, drinks are over there and the food right next to them..” As Mark was showing you the whereabouts, his words started to go through your ear and out the other side and you see Jaemin by the drinks table staring at you up and down while sipping on his red solo cup. Suddenly another man starts walking towards Jaemin looking down at his phone. He looks up at you and you see it's Jeno. He gives you one of his cute close eyed smiles and waves at you. You wave as a soft smile appears on your face at home cute he looks.

“All good?” You hear Mark say as he brings you back to reality. “All good” Giselle says with a thumbs up and you just nod. You and Giselle walk over to the couch and you sit down. “I'm gonna go bring us some drink, ill be right back” You wanted her to stay with you since you weren’t a big fan of parties and din tiles being alone, but you also wanted to go with her but quickly change your mind since you were nervous about being around Jaemin and Jeno.

You start to scroll through your phone not knowing what else to do until you see a pair of shoes in front of you thinking it's Giselle. You look up and to your surprise it's Jaemin. “Hey,” he said as he looks at you and you greet him back. He goes to sit next to you as you hear another familiar voice. “Do you want a drink?” Jeno says with his eyebrows raised. “Giselles already getting me one, thank you” you smile.

Giselle comes back with your drink and you all got into a conversation with some flirting going around from overconfident Jaemin and shy Jeno.

“Ayo, listen up” Mark announces from the middle of the room. “Let's play some games, starting with 7 minutes in heaven” he smirks. The whole room looked excited to join in the circle except for you. You didn't know many people at the party and didn't wanna have sex with someone you didn't know. “I think I'm gonna sit this one out,” You say to Giselle. “Come on” she pulls your arm “Let's have some fun”. You both sit down on the floor next to each other and Mark puts a beer bottle in the center. “Alright, I'm gonna spin the bottle and whichever two people it lands on will spend 7 minutes in heaven”.

He spins the bottle and your heartaches as you get more anxious. You thought that whoever is in front of you is most likely to be paired with you if you were picked. You saw both Jaemin and Jeno in front of you. Jaemin who’s looking at you in a seductive way and Jeno who’s staring at the bottle, eagerly waiting for it to stop.

The bottle gets slower until it stops. You look at it in disbelief as it's pointing right at you, already knowing who you could be paired up with. You slowly look up at the boys looking at each other and back at you. The whole room is filled with whispers. “Looks like we have a tie” you hear Mark say. The bottle is pointy right in between them.

“Who will it be?” He asks you. You try to speak but you're unable to get the words out. “Why can’t she just take them both” You look to your right and see Johnny. You’ve never wanted to hit a guy so hard on his pretty face. “DUDE! YOUR A GENIUS” Mark replies. You see Jaemin and Jeno stand up and start to lead you up the stairs as people start cheering and you get so embarrassed and red.

As they lead you to an unoccupied room, you can help but think about what was gonna happen next. Are you actually gonna have a threesome? Will one of them end up leaving? Will you be the one to leave? You finally arrive at the room. “Were here princess” Jaemin whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You take a seat on the front edge of the bed, not knowing what to do or say. “Are you nervous” He bend down in front of you, taking your hand in his and smirking up at you. Before you get to talk, you feel a warm breath against your ear. “Don’t be, angel, we’ll take good care of you” Jeno whispered, lightly nibbling on your ear lobe. So you’re really gonna do this, aren’t you?

The thought of them fucking you at the same time was hot but you didn’t want this stupid game to ruin your friendship.

Jaemin was staring at you in the eyes and slowly leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. He broke the kiss to look at you for consent to do more, and you lean in. Jeno goes at your next softly, placing wet kisses up and down until he snaked his hands down to your core and traces small circles around it. You moan into Jaemins kiss and you feel him smiling against you.

“Does that feels good?” He asks, and let out a breathy yes as you break from Jaemins kiss and rest your head on Jenos shoulder. Jaemin also starts placing wet kisses on your neck and lightly sucking on randoms patches of skin. They both stop and bring you farther up the bed so they have more room around you.

Jeno hovers on top of you until he crashes his lips onto yours aggressively, sticking his tongue into every corner of your mouth, not leaving one spot untouched. His hands find their way under your shirt touching you all over until he places them on your hips. He tugs on it asking you for permission to take it off you allow him, bringing it over your head and his along with it.

He breaks away to look at your body and dives back in giving you a kiss from your chest down until he reaches your skirt, pulling it up so your panties are exposed. He then quickly removes both articles of clothing. “Fuck, you already wet” He huffs.

“7 minutes might be a little too short to destroy you” You look at Jaemin who’s palming himself next to you. He saw you quickly look at his bulge and smirks before leaning closer to you. “You want us bad don’t you” He whispers into your ear. “You want us to fuck you so hard you won’t be walking for days”

Jaemin starts kissing and sucking hard at your neck while Jeno teases you by licking your core. Quiet moans leave your lips from all the small pleasure you were receiving from both men. You entangle your fingers in his hair wanting more.

Unexpectedly Jeno pushes deep indie of you to make your back arch in pleasure. His whole length rammed inside of you so perfectly as you looked at him seeing a small smirk crept on his face. He knows he’s big.

You start moaning uncontrollably from Jeno hitting the spot with every thrust. Jaemin who’s now stroking himself removes your bra with his free hand and attaches his pink lips to your nipples. Sucking them and tracing small circles with his tongue, using his free left hand to masses and play with the other one.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping and lip-smacking on your breasts. Jeno starts to get impatient and tell Jeno to fuck you doggy style so he can fuck your mouth at the same time.

Having to switch positions messed up the pleasure you were getting from Jeno but he was quick with his ways and managed to get back on track. You watch Jaemin as he removes his pants and boxers, waving his dick in front of your face.

Your unable to grab it with your hands from Jenos thrusting, with your hands being your only support so you won’t collapse. You try to move your mouth forward but Jaemin stops you. He lips your chin up to look at him“Don’t get too greedy” he says, placing his tip on your tongue. “Can you deep throat?” He says softly. Even though Jaemin is a confident guy who knows he hot, he has his soft moments too. “Angel, let me know if it hurts or you want to stop okay?” You nod and he moves his cock into your mouth, starting off slow, going faster making sure you adjust.

Surprisingly Jaemin was a lot softer than Jeno who rammed into you without warning. Not that you didn’t like that or anything but it would be nice to know.

You manage to deep throat without gagging while trying to use one hand to massage his balls. You hear moth males moan in sync. “Jeno,” You say in a muffled voice from Jaemins length. He understands your close and takes this as an opportunity to go faster. “Say my name, Princess” Jeno says. You moan his name, again it was tough trying to talk while having someone's cock shoved down your throat.

You finally come as a wave of pleasure leaves your body. “Fuck” You hear Jeno say. His thrusts become sloppier as he finally comes in you, letting it drip down. He massages your clit with his finger, using both your juices as some type of lube.

Jaemin's thrust into your mouth becomes slower and slower until he comes, filling your mouth up with his warm insides. You try to swallow it all with some leakage at the side of your mouth. He flashes a wide smile at the sight of you. Jeno comes over to help your out by kissing you passionately and cleaning you up with his tongue.

They both sit ups straight and look at you with curiosity. “What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Who are you picking?” Jeno replies. Your eyes widen in shock. “WHAT?!” You shout ‘what do you mean who do I pick?”. You were so confused. Did they just fuck you and expect you to chose? Of course not, you could never do that.

“He means which one of us will you date?” Your jaw drops open. “Was this planned or something?” You're really hoping your not gonna get the answer you were thinking of. “It kind of went better than we thought” Jeno starts. “We asked Mark if he could announce the game sat in front of you to get picked with you. We also made sure the circle would be big so the bottle has a higher chance of landing in between two people which was us an-”

Before Jaemin could finish. You hop off the bed and grab your clothes making sure to clean yourself up. “No wait,” Jeno says as he pulls your arm lightly. “We just both like you and thought this was a good way to decide. “You think the best way was for to see who I liked better in bed?” They were both silent. You shook your head in disapproval. “I'm not picking between you too” You walk towards the door but before you could turn the knob, you hear Jaemin say something.

“So you’ll just have to have us both them” You look at him thinking about it at first. Honestly, you didn't mind having them both at the same time. “I guess ill just have to have you both then,” You say with a smile, leaving them both with their jaws hanging.

You walk down the party fixing your hair trying not to look like you just woke from a 1,000 year nap. You find Giselle who’s passed out on the couch and go to grab her. “Hey,” she says as she opens her eyes. “I'm so-“ She leans on you as she passes out. You drag her to the front door getting ready to leave. “You're leaving already” You look around to see Mark. “Yes, and I really don’t appreciate you helping out Jaemin and Jeno to get a chance to fuck me” his eyes widen. “Look it wasn’t my ide-“ You flick him on the forehead before heading out to a taxi and driving back to your place.

The whole car ride back home, you couldn’t help but think about how they could be if the time wasn’t so short. Maybe an all night experience for next time.

PLEASE TELL ME IF U WANT ME TO MAKE A PART 2. Im really tempted to make one but I want your thoughts so please let me know! :)

#nct #nct dream #nct smut #nct dream smut #nomin #lee jeno #na jaemin #jeno #jaemin #jaemin smut #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #na jaemin smut

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

supernova, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader, mentions of seokjin x reader

summary: Kim Taehyung is your best friend. Considering him as anything more was asking for a collapsed relationship. You two were just two points in the sky, side by side, always shining together. Stars aren’t meant to collide, right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (m-receiving oral, nipple play, fingering); non-idol!AU; supposed to be crack but, uh, I failed; yes there is a reference to that confused-lady-doing-math meme lol

You were having the stupidest argument of your life with your best friend.

“Obviously I know how to suck dick!”

Kim Taehyung nearly spit his soda everywhere.

“How the fuck,” he sputtered, coughing. “Would you ever know how to suck dick?”

You rolled your eyes. “Duh, I learned, of course.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows so high that they disappeared into his dark brown bangs. “From who? You kind of need a boyfriend to suck dick.”

“No, you don’t,” you retorted.

Taehyung blinked at you. “I can’t imagine who would let you within ten feet of their dick.”

You threw a pillow at his face. He punched it away as you fumed. “If you must know, I’ve been told I’m good at it.”

Taehyung snorted. He placed his soda farther away from you, afraid it was going to be spilled. “By who? Your delusions?”

“Wow, Tae, seriously?” You puffed your cheeks, glaring at him. “You’re being so mean about this. Don’t pretend you have any experience at all.”

Taehyung frowned at you. “I’ve had experience. What makes you think I haven’t?”

You made a face. “You literally only spend your time at my place or at Jimin’s and you definitely aren’t getting your dick sucked here.” You placed a hand over your eyes, scooting away. “I guess you guys are closer than I thought.”

Now Taehyung picked up the pillow and threw it at you. It bounced off your head.

“Jimin doesn’t suck my dick.”

“I mean, you literally just implied–”

Taehyung pushed you into the plushies on your bed, planting a cat one on your head. “Dumbass, I’ve obviously had other opportunities. I’m not a hermit like you.” He pelted you with a Shiba Inu plush as you struggled. “I actually go outside and socialize.”

You glared at him. “I socialize.”

“You play online games all day,” Taehyung shot back, getting off you. “That’s not socializing.”

“Seokjin-oppa comes over,” you muttered, slinging a turtle at him.

Taehyung caught it in the air. He gave you an odd look. You raised your eyebrows back at him. He slowly lowered his hand, narrowing his eyes.

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“I will call him right now,” Taehyung announced, pulling out his phone.

“No, you will not!” you roared, throwing yourself at him and knocking the phone out of his hand. It bounced on your lavender duvet. You planted your hand on it, halfway in Taehyung’s lap. “Ha!” Your other hand was on Taehyung’s thigh. You felt…

Something.

“What is that.” It wasn’t a question. The words just came out of your mouth automatically.

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow at you. “Wouldn’t you know since you have so much experience with the dick of Kim Seok–”

“Do not say it, Kim Taehyung,” you hissed, prodding him in the chest. “I will shut you up permanently. Also,” you added, hand still on his phone. “You shouldn’t be hard.”

Taehyung snorted. “You’re literally going on and on about sucking dick. Of course, I’m hard, you idiot.”

You pointed a finger at him. “It is not appropriate to get hard in front of your female best friend.”

“It is literally appropriate to get hard when you’re next to someone you think is hot and said person is suggesting they can suck pretty good dick.”

“It is absolutely no–” You cut yourself off this time. “Hold up. What did you just say?”

Taehyung’s deep voice seemed to get even deeper.

“I said, if you can actually suck dick, fucking prove it.”

You pulled your hand back, narrowing your eyes. “That’s not what you said.”

“I’m quite sure of what I said.” His expression was completely blank. The harsh overhead lighting of your bedroom seemed to make his dark eyes even darker.

You pointed an ice cream plush at him. “You also said you can’t imagine who would let me within ten feet of their dick.”

“I mean, I can’t imagine,” he said, shrugging. “But I know who would.”

This did not add up. You sat there, trying to do the math to see if it checked out. Which trigonometry equation would it be? Or algebra? An integral, maybe? Kim Taehyung wasn’t making any sense. He sat there, legs spread, obvious tent in his gray sweatpants, brown t-shirt barely covering it. But… why though? In all the years you’ve known him, Taehyung had never, ever asked to be more than friends. Never. In fact, he teased you all the time about how you never had a boyfriend.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’re acting sus.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Are you smooth-brained or what?”

You held your hands up, backing away from him. “All I’m saying is, you’re contradicting yourself.”

Taehyung let out a puff of annoyed air. “I can’t believe you would pick Seokjin-hyung over me.”

You got off the bed to walk over to his soda to drink the rest of it. “He’s good-looking,” you said absentmindedly. “Not that anything specific happened between us or anything.”

“Stop pretending you didn’t fuck him.”

You nearly spit out the soda, coughing. “I only might have suc–”

His eyebrows raised.

“You know what, I don’t have to talk about it. I don’t.”

Taehyung’s mouth thinned to a line. “I’m way more handsome than he is.”

You put the cup down, wondering why you even bothered to drink the rest of that. It was already flat anyway with how heated this conversation was.

“You are handsome, Tae. I just assumed you didn’t want me asking you weird questions like, can I suck your dick?” You shrugged. “Because that would probably make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung muttered. “Because I’m clearly comfortable right now with a raging hard-on and you admitting you sucked hyung’s dick.”

You chopped your hands in the air helplessly. “Look, you asked! I answered! What do you want, an apology?”

“An apology of you sucking my dick, yeah.”

You froze. Did he just–? It was the most childish thing you ever heard. Taehyung tucked his tongue in his cheek and glared at you. You were best friends. Best friends! Best friends don’t do that kind of stuff (right?). Best friends don’t think about each other like that (… right?). And you, well, the thing between Seokjin just sort of… happened. And maybe you had exaggerated a little. You weren’t as experienced as Taehyung. Even though you made fun of him, you knew Taehyung had more sexual encounters than you.

The girls around you always ended up gossiping about it.

You really were a hermit – you stayed home and played games, listening to music in your room. There weren’t any chances to do anything with anyone except for the few friends who visited you. And Seokjin was nice, patient. Just as nervous as you, afraid to make it too, er, overwhelming.

“Why… why are you mad?”

Taehyung looked down at the floor, sighing. “I don’t know.” He tilted his head, frowning. “It just pissed me off that you don’t trust me with something as important as that.”

“That’s not…” You paused, fiddling with the bottom of your purple pajama shirt. “If things got weird and Seokjin wasn’t my friend anymore, I would be sad.” His brown eyes slowly found yours as you spoke. “But… if you weren’t my friend anymore…”

You rubbed the back of your neck, not quite looking at him.

“I would be broken.”

He looked away from you too, to the fallen cat plush on the ground.

You chuckled nervously, sighing. “I don’t know if it would work. And I don’t want to ruin something that is already great with something that is just… my lack of confidence in being as cool as you.”

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and winced. “Cheesy.”

You twitched and picked up the cat plush, chucking it at him. It bounced off his head, making his hair fly everywhere. He didn’t move, staring at you. You hesitated. Ah, you shouldn’t have said anything at all. It should have just stayed a secret between you and Seokjin. But you always ended up telling Taehyung everything, one way or another.

Taehyung patted the spot next to him. You carefully walked over, measuring a very deliberate space between you two before sitting down. He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself.

“You wanna just kiss and see if it’s weird?” he asked suddenly.

“It’s gonna be weird, Tae,” you laughed nervously. “This whole conversation is weird.”

“Hm.” Slowly, slowly, he leaned over and placed his head on your shoulder. You didn’t move away, continuing to stare at your hands. “Eh. It’s fine if it’s weird, I think. All relationships start off weird.”

You snorted. “I don’t think any relationship starts off weirder than you figuring out I blew one of your friends, then getting mad about it, and somehow we–”

He cut you off because he kissed you.

His lips on yours, sweet like cola, that familiar scent you could always associate with him. The scent that lingered on your pillows after he left, the scent that clung to you after the two of you shared a bed, completely platonically. You always thought falling asleep next to Taehyung was comparable to two stars beside each other in the sky, impossibly far away despite being the closest objects in space together.

Nice to sparkle together, but impossible to be together.

Stars colliding made a supernova, which was amazing, but then collapse into a black hole – the part that worried you the most.

And yet.

You pressed back against him, breathing him in. Your hand came up and held the back of his head, not wanting it to end, his soft lips against yours, not even a hint of messy tongue or anything crazy, just his taste. Taehyung mouthed inaudible words against your lips and you pulled back a little, not even realizing how breathless you were.

“Is it…” he muttered, voice so deep it felt like your heart was vibrating. “Weird?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You chuckled, looking down at your lap. “That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Ah.” He didn’t move away from you. “Want to do it again?”

Even if it all eventually collapsed into a black hole… What if I live like that? You looked up, right into Kim Taehyung’s eyes, your best friend in the whole world and, even now, you didn’t know if it was going to work out, but, maybe in the off-chance, in the impossible, improbable probability that it did…

You leaned over and kissed him, arm around his neck, pushing him down onto your bed. He smiled into your kiss, his larger hands travelling up to your waist to hold you. Your eyes opened a little, just to see his dark brown hair against your sheets, his tan skin against the lavender color. Lashes so long and dark they made you jealous. He was usually on your bed, but this time was different. This time, he was in your arms like a lover, pulled into your gravity. You softly moaned into his mouth and his tongue slid between your lips, rubbing against yours. You played with it, sucking on it. He moaned back, grip on your waist tightening.

“Tae…”

You breathed against his lips, not wanting to back away too far. He opened his eyes, so heavy with lust you almost forgot what you were going to ask.

“I need you to move up a little,” you said apologetically. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Taehyung laughed. “Sure.”

You didn’t know how to tell him that you basically only learned how to suck dick when the guy lying down. But he didn’t ask, simply scooting up the bed before reaching for you and placing you on top of him. Normally, you scolded him for laying on your plushies, but at this point your mind was somewhere else.

“Better?” he purred, kissing your forehead.

“Y-yeah.” You got onto your hands and knees, nervousness flooding through you. Taehyung reached for your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. You blinked at him.

“You don’t actually have to suck my dick,” Taehyung chuckled. “I mean, if you don’t want to.”

You gave him a confused look. “Isn’t that why you were annoyed in the first place?”

Taehyung puffed his cheeks. “I was annoyed because you fucking sucked Seo–”

You slapped a hand over his mouth. “Not the time.”

He rolled his eyes at you. You kept your hand on his mouth as you slid down, glaring at him until you had to let go to get into position. He watched you with a raised brow. He balanced on his elbows, amused.

“Stop judging me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I’m not judging. Just viewing technique.”

You frowned and pushed his t-shirt out of the way.

“I can take it off.”

“Let me concentrate, you fool.”

Taehyung finally shut up. You kept telling yourself to just take off his pants. It was not that weird. It wasn’t like you hadn’t walked in on him changing before. But you had never seen Taehyung naked and, obviously, had never seen his cock. The tent in front of you was not as big as it was before, but all the girls ever talked about was…

You heard your name being called. You snapped your head up.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked, tilting his head at you.

“Y-yeah.”

“Sounding really confident there.”

You clicked your tongue. “Hmph.”

And you hooked your fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled down. Taehyung lifted his hips to help you and you were nearly smacked in the face with his cock.

“The fuck, Kim Taehyung?” Your eyes went wide as you bunched his pants around his knees. “The FUCK? Kim Taehyung?!”

Taehyung laughed. “What?”

“What?” you echoed, indignant. “Excuse me, sir, you tried to take out my eye with your dick and–” You pointed accusingly at his cock. “Um?”

“That’s not fully hard yet, yeah.”

Alright, it wasn’t like he was some Dragon Dildo cock but, still. You had a pretty small mouth (at least that’s what your dentist told you before he removed all four wisdom teeth, sigh). Taehyung rubbed his chin, sticking his tongue in his cheek.

“That’s why I said you don’t have to do it.”

You stiffened. “I mean… I can do it. I-it’s not like I can’t or anything.”

Taehyung shrugged. “Just don’t bite me.”

“Why the fuck would I bite you?”

“I’m just saying that’s not my kind of kink.”

“Just… shut up for a second.”

You furrowed your brow. It felt strange remembering Seokjin’s words to you now, but those were the only ones you knew. He told you to be gentle at first. You leaned forward, kissing the head softly. It felt warm and velvety against your lips. Just kisses, all up and down the length. You licked Taehyung’s balls lightly, using your hand to hold his cock out of the way. Taehyung’s eyes went wide as you ran your tongue over his balls, softly taking one in your mouth, bouncing it on your tongue.

“A-ah…”

You wrapped your hand around him to hold him in place, swirling your tongue around and around. You looked up at Taehyung. His eyelids were fluttering, groaning as you switched sides.

“F-fuck, normally they just go straight for the dick…”

You pressed your tongue flat and molded him to the crevices of your mouth, making him gasp and grab the sheets as you sucked hard. He made eye contact with you. Lips soft, mouth tight. Plenty of saliva. Slow, slow, popping your lips off.

“Just that was pretty impressive,” Taehyung panted, pulling his shirt up higher. You swallowed, inhaling sharply as you saw more of his torso. His skin was a lovely tan that accented his muscles and his cute bellybutton. You shook your head slightly, trying not to get distracted.

You pressed your lips just under the head, a soft chaste kiss. Your tongue slid out, running over the sensitive skin, saliva dripping down his cock as you looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, moaning hotly.

Seokjin didn’t teach you to do that. You were just enamored with Taehyung’s cock almost in your mouth.

Taehyung breathed your name, low and sensual.

You took him in your mouth, slowly, lifting and lowering your head as you went, lapping against the underside. Fit only what you’re comfortable with. Don’t stress about getting it all in. Lips loose, inside of the mouth tight. You went straight down, using gravity to your advantage. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but he was getting there, swelling in your mouth as you begun your pace, using his hips as leverage to hold yourself up.

“Right there.”

You paused, repeating your last movement. Rubbing your tongue against the bottom of the head, pressing his cock against the roof of your mouth. Taehyung’s voice was breathy, almost pleading.

“Down.”

You did so, keeping your tongue in place as you slide down, the head against the soft upper part of your throat. Taehyung moaned deliciously, hissing softly.

“F-fuck, that’s so good.”

You repeated the movement, bobbing your head up and down. Slow at first, but building up, gaining confidence. Spit slid down the length, pooling onto his balls.

“Ugh,” Taehyung grunted, clenching the sheets. “Your mouth is soft, but tight. Such a perfect combination.”

You couldn’t exactly respond. He wasn’t fully in your mouth, but you only focused on speed and precision of your pressure, making sure to squeeze the head as it pressed against your lips. You shifted, moving one of your hands to cup his balls, smearing the wetness everywhere. He sucked in a breath, setting his jaw.

“A-ack…”

You decided to try it. A moment of pause and then a slow, slow descent, all the way down. Relax your throat. Front tight, back loose to prevent yourself from gagging. The head hit the back of your throat and your heart jumped. Just a little more. Control. A little lower and your felt your throat tighten around the head. Oh fuck. You couldn’t breathe. But Taehyung was moaning your name so wantonly that you nearly forgot you were almost choking on his dick. You can do it. Slight, sharp ruts of your throat on the tip itself, making Taehyung jerk his head back and cry out in ecstasy.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, gasping down at you. “You have it all in your mouth.”

He sounded very impressed. You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, and winked at him. He laughed, shaking his head at you.

You had to pull back a little, conscious of your breathing as you regained sweet oxygen. You didn’t want to sound like you were dying, after all. Taehyung was about to say something, but you started up your fastest pace yet, bouncing up and down, not looking at him as you focused completely on your pressure control.

“A-ah, shit!”

You used both hands to hold yourself up as you bobbed, hyper focused on giving him a raw, wet, tight hole to slide into. For you, this was the easiest because gravity did half the work for you, adding to the speed and cutting half of the stress on your neck, which was occupied with ramming the head down your throat as you tightened your muscles even more, fingertips digging into his skin. You could taste it, the pre-cum leaking into your mouth. Those pathetic, muffled whimpers couldn’t be you, right? You flicked your eyes up to him. Taehyung was watching you, panting hard, pupils blown so wide that his doe eyes looked even bigger.

“Damn, you’re even hotter than I thought,” he choked out, groaning sharply. “I’m close, I don’t know if you want to swallow–”

You dug your nails into his hips, moving even faster, desperate for him to cum in your mouth. He whimpered himself, leaning his head back as a low moan tore from his throat, your name falling out so sweetly and deeply that you felt it in your soul as he came in your mouth, flooding it. You pulled back a little to give it space to collect as you swallowed, his cock jerking in your mouth. Three gulps and there was still a little left. You swept it with your tongue and Taehyung shivered under you as you swallowed that too, lingering. Your tongue gently coated him. You pulled back, centimeter by slow centimeter, teasing the tip with the end of your tongue. Taehyung whispered at the sensitivity, but you pressed your lips against the head, soft pressure at the very end until the tip popped out.

“Could you just…” Taehyung panted, one eye closing as he struggled to catch his breath. “Not be good at that?”

You grinned, straightening. “Oh? I did good?”

Taehyung gritted his teeth. “I have never thought a blowjob could be comparable to pussy until just now, holy fuck.”

You rubbed your jaw in a startlingly similar manner to his habit. “Think I’m gonna be sore.”

Taehyung gestured down to his cock, who was rapidly falling asleep. “You killed him. How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you now?”

You shrugged. “I like other things too.”

“I’m listening.”

You scratched your head. Shit. You haven’t actually expected Taehyung to want to reciprocate. It wasn’t that what you wanted was strange, but it felt embarrassing to ask him, because it was something you learned about yourself with someone else. Taehyung’s eyes were boring holes into you. He was silently commanding you to tell him right now or else.

“I have to make you cum,” he said softly. “Tell me how.”

A shiver ran through you. Your eyes shifted down to his hands and he lifted them from the bed, observing you curiously. His lips curled into a wide smirk. You glared at him and pulled your pajama shirt over your head so you didn’t have to look at his smug face. You straddled his legs, pulling yourself up to him. You were still wearing your underwear. You reached into the cups of your bra and pulled your breasts out right in front of his face. The bra still on your body pushed them together so your nipples stuck straight out. Taehyung licked his lips.

“A meal? For me?”

You puffed your cheeks and took the back of his head, pushing him towards your nipple.

“Lick.”

His brown orbs became mischievous. His pink tongue darted out, flicking your nipple. You sucked in a breath and grabbed one of his hands, pressing his middle finger on your other nipple, rubbing it in slow circles. Taehyung got the hint, licking one of your nipples as he played with the other with his fingers.

“Pinching?” he mumbled.

“Y-yeah…”

He pinched you lightly. You yelped, fingers tangling in his hair. Lightly constrained in your clothes, your nipples being played with. One more step. You reached down for his free hand and dragged it up your thigh, moaning as his knuckle brushed against your soaking wetness.

“Ah,” he purred, vibrating your nipple with his voice. “You like a triple assault.”

“Tae, just fucking finger me.”

He chuckled deeply, rubbing you though your panties. They sank into your folds. Your clit throbbed with need, desperate for attention as he rubbed the slopping wet fabric against it.

“I will,” he drawled, staring up at you. He rubbed harder, keeping pace with your nipple. “How many?”

“I-I don’t think you can fit more than two,” you gasped, grinding against his hand.

“Okay,” he purred, hooking a finger around your panties. Strings of your juices clung to his hand as he pulled the fabric to the side. “One first.”

You felt him slowly slide his finger into you, his lips pressed against your nipple as he did so, his eyes closing. Your breathing became shallow, pleasure snaking upwards.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight,” Taehyung breathed, licking your nipple in between his words. “So fucking wet.”

You clutched his head tighter as he pushed in and out of you, curling it slightly. You chopped his neck feebly.

“N-no, straight.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows, but complied, straightening his finger and thrusting it into you. Oh, yes. You clenched around him, shoving your tits into his face as you wiggled your hips on his hand.

“Need m-more, Tae…”

He rolled his tongue around your nipple and sucked it hard, shoving another finger into you at the same time, making your cry out and squirm. You gripped the hand on your nipple, encouraging him.

“I got you, love.”

Your heart skipped two beats. And then he began to really finger-fuck you, driving them into you hard and fast, pinching your nipple and sucking on the other. Pleasure shot throughout your entire being, so drunk with lust that you leaned into it, spreading your legs to give Taehyung more space to move his arm, fuck you harder.

“Taehyung, oh, fuck, Tae...”

You felt eyes on you and you looked down, seeing Taehyung’s sharp brown orbs watching you, brows furrowed as you bucked on his hand, detaching his mouth as he whispers hotly into your chest.

“Fuck, I want to fuck your pussy so fucking bad,” he growled.

His eyes were so dark that you felt like you were falling into space, into his gravity, trapped. He pounded you his fingers into you harder, pinching and twisting your nipple. You were ready to fall apart, gasping and moaning so much that your throat was dry.

“Can you take one more?”

“I-I don’t know…” you whimpered. “So f-full…”

He chuckled. “I have a big dick, remember?”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip. “O-okay, do it.”

Slow, slow. His third finger buried itself into you and you squeezed your eyes shut, gasping as you felt him began pace again. Your nipples were extra sensitive now, making your body shiver as he touched them again. Just a little more…

“Tae,” you gasped, “Go as hard and fast as you can.”

“You sure?” Even just the feeling of his lips brushing against your nipple had you trembling.

“Yes, do it.”

He wrapped his lips around your nipple before ramming his fingers into you, tearing a plea of his name from your throat as he fingered you roughly, almost like a fucking vibrator. Oh, fuck. If Seokjin was in the back of your mind, he quickly vanished as Taehyung pounded you, forcing you to take it all, spreading you out as you saw stars in your peripheral vision. He didn’t hold back and you didn’t want him to, squeezing his fingers as they entered you, pressing his head down on your breasts. Everything tightened inside you, so close to the edge that you could smell your juices dripping onto his lap.

“Tae, fuck, I’m so fucking close, a-ah…”

He sucked on your nipple, hard, pinching and twisting the other and it pushed you over, crying out as everything snapped suddenly, pleasure racking through your entire body as your pussy throbbed around his hand. You nearly sank down, Taehyung’s hands the only things keeping you up as you buried your face in his hair, gasping for air.

“Careful,” Taehyung murmured, pulling his fingers out, sticky and covered in your juices. He looked at his fingers for a moment before shoving them in his mouth.

“T-Tae!”

He made eye contact with you as he licked them off slowly and purposefully, moaning lustfully around them. Your pussy throbbed with need at the sight of his pink tongue slurping up the glistening liquid.

“Mmm, delicious.”

You felt your ears turn red and you climbed off him, righting your underwear before flopping onto the bed. Taehyung laid down next to you, pulling up his pants.

“Give me a couple hours and I’ll rail you with my dick.”

“Wow, that’s so romantic.”

Then came the awkward moment. The one where you stared at your pillows and squashed plushies, realizing what you had just done, realizing that you couldn’t turn back now. The stars had collided. Now what? The black hole? You didn’t look at Taehyung. You couldn’t.

He said you name, softly.

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t being serious. You’re a virgin, right?”

You shifted your eyes. “Erm…”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“I’m gonna kill Seokjin-hyung.”

“No, Tae–”

masterpost

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x you #v x reader #v x you #v smut

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secretobsessionstuff · 3 years

Text

Blair's Night Out

Sober, they took an uber to the bar. The plan was to not be so sober on the ride home. Mateo and Shawn successfully went through with this plan. It was a different story for Blair and Dakota.

Sober and sick, Blair rode back with her head in Dakota’s lap, completely aware of every sensation unfortunately. She would have much preferred the blissful buzz from a few drinks, but she never got around to taking the first sip. Her churning stomach dragged her to the bathroom the moment the four of them arrived at the bar.

Dakota and Blair thought it would be fun to tag along with Mateo and Shawn whiled they checked out the newest bar in downtown Toronto. Dakota certainly thought it would help him feel more alive after one exhausting week of work. Blair too thought it would be a good idea to have a night out. She was wrong; it was not a good idea.

As soon as they sat down at their table, Blair excused herself with a hand on her middle. She felt bloated and sweaty in her dress, and so not in the mood for a fun night out. She had hoped that her stomach-ache from that day would go away in time. It didn’t. The nausea was still lurking around when the sun went down. Nonetheless, she joined her boyfriend and their friends because she told herself she could ignore it.

The plan to ignore the nausea went out the window when the loud music and the smell of booze hit her senses. She gave Dakota’s leg a squeeze under the table before going to the bathroom.

“Hey, wait.” Dakota grabbed her wrist before she could leave. For a moment Blair thought that he was about to make them leave. She thought for sure that he saw the way she wrapped her arms around her torso or the fact that she hadn’t said anything in a while. But then a foolishly large smile spread across his face. “You look really pretty, tonight.”

Not for long, Blair thought as the contents of her stomach sloshed around inside. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Thanks.” Oh, Dakota was the sweetest, but sometimes he could be really oblivious. She thought about telling him, but she wanted to give her stomach one more chance to calm down.

She didn’t feel pretty as she stumbled her way to the bathroom. People must have thought she was already drunk. Ugh, the idea of drinking anything stronger than water made her want to retch.

As expected, the girls in the bathroom were unbelievably nice. They complimented Blair’s hair and dress, obviously not seeing the grey tincture to her skin or the sweat on her brow.

Blair stood in the stall instead of dropping to her knees like she wanted to. Maybe if she calmed down and didn’t give in to the feeling, then she could rejoin her friends in the bar. She took several deep breaths, amazed at how fast she felt worse. Minutes ago, she was only a little shaky, and now she was struggling to hold down her dinner.

Eventually she gave up this futile fight. She took off her shoes, knelt on the ground and allowed the saliva accumulating in her mouth to drip into the toilet bowl. An awful tasting burp escaped past her lips before she could swallow it. It made her gag. She moaned miserably, knowing what was about to happen.

Why did she have to get sick tonight? This was their opportunity to be fun again. She and Dakota had gotten so comfortable with each other that they never bothered with clubs and bars anymore. They were becoming an old married couple at the speed of light, and they weren’t even married yet. Compared to Mateo and Shawn, they were boring.

There was no more time to mope about this fact because the food in Blair’s stomach rushed up her throat. She held the disgusting toilet while the force of her heaves pushed her forward. In a stream of pale brown, the sick splattered in the bowl for all to hear. She kept going because she had no other choice.

A knock at the stall door startled Blair enough to give her a break. “Sweetie, are you alright in there?” It sounded like the girl who complimented her hair when she first came into the bathroom. Blair could only see her shoes under the door. They were nice shoes. “You must be a lightweight because it’s only 9’oclock.”

Blair groaned and spat into the toilet. “I’m a little sick.”

“I can hear that,” the girl said from the other side of the door. “The whole bathroom can hear that. Do you need me to get someone for you?”

Blair thought for a moment, trying not to look at the vomit in the toilet. Screw this, she wanted to go home to be boring and sick. “Yes, please.”

…

Dakota was almost excited at the prospect of being hit on. The woman walked right up to him. He thought he was going to have to turn her away. The ‘I have a girlfriend’ line was ready on his lips. This was why they came out in the first place: to feel like they were back in college. Dakota was probably a little too eager to break some hearts.

He did not expect the woman to start by saying: “Are you Dakota?”

Usually, the pretty girls at the bar didn’t know his name before talking to him. Usually, the pretty girls looked less worried than this one did. She wasn’t smiling or touching his arm. The unexpected turn of events made Dakota short-circuit. Somehow, he managed to stutter out, “Uh yeah?”

“Your girlfriend is puking her brains out. She should probably slow down.”

“Wait…What?” Did he hear that correctly? This woman must have been mistaken. Some other girl in this bar must have a boyfriend named Dakota. Still, he had to make sure because his girlfriend had been gone for a long time. “Are you talking about Blair?”

“I don’t know. Platinum blonde, blue dress…”

“Yes, yes, that’s her. She’s sick? But we just got here.”

“Then that was some pre-game because she’s asking for you. Are you coming or not?”

Of course, he was coming. He followed the woman as if it were a police escort. There was minimal protest from the other girls in the bathroom. Dakota would have gone in even if there were because he could hear how horrible Blair was feeling before stepping into the stall.

Before kneeling next to Blair, Dakota thanked the woman who helped them. When she and most of the other girls left, Dakota directed his attention to his poor girlfriend who was retching on the floor.

“Oh, Bee.” He put his hand on her back. “What happened?” She obviously wasn’t drunk.

“I don’t know,” she said after spitting a string of saliva into the toilet. “I thought it was just a stomach-ache, but I think I’m sick…Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay. Don’t be sorry.” Dakota rubbed big circles on her back. “You must have caught a stomach bug.”

There was nothing else to be said after that which was good because Blair felt her stomach rising in her throat once again. This next wave of vomiting was slightly better than the last now that she wasn’t alone. Dakota’s hand was cold on her bare back where the dress didn’t cover, but that didn’t matter. It was better than suffering alone and embarrassed. She burped up a mouthful of sick, watching it splatter into the water below. With each spasm, she moaned in pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” Dakota said softly as he kept up the gentle rubbing. His go-to move of holding her hair back was not an option because someone had already given her a hair-tie to make a ponytail. The only thing left to do was hold her until she felt well enough leave. “I’ll get us an uber home,” he said, remembering how they got here in the first place. It certainly didn’t sound fun to be sick in a stranger’s car, but he had to get her home soon.

…

So, Blair rode back home with her head in Dakota’s lap. They sat in the backseat, hoping that the driver wouldn’t notice that Blair took off her seatbelt to lie down. Sitting up and watching the city lights go by in a blur wouldn’t help her situation at all. Besides, she liked the way Dakota played with her hair. It almost lulled her to sleep. 'Almost' was the key word because she never did fall asleep. Her sour stomach kept her awake.

Dakota could hear her belly gurgling. With his hand that wasn’t playing with her hair, he gently rubbed her middle. Oh, her stomach sounded so upset. He wished he could make it go away. She curled up tighter, bringing her legs closer to her chest. Her constant moans of pain were breaking Dakota’s heart.

“How are you doing, baby?” Dakota asked, knowing that the answer would be worse. He could feel the turmoil going on inside her belly.

In reality, Dakota didn’t get the exact answer that he was expecting. Instead of mumbling something about the pain, Blair simply groaned into his lap. He felt her body tremble. “Oh, Bee. What can I do? Do you want the window open?” The cold breeze would make Dakota freeze in the car, but it felt like Blair would benefit from being cooler. Her skin was already hot and clammy.

Blair squirmed out of discomfort. She didn’t want the window open. She needed to not be trapped in a car. “Make it stop,” she mumbled, too afraid to open her mouth very wide or lift her head out of Dakota lap.

“You know I would if I could.” Dakota traced his fingers along her bare legs. Only soft touches. “It’ll be better at home. You can change into pajamas, and I can get a pillow to put—”

A spasm went through Blair’s body just before she pushed herself up from Dakota’s lap. Another tremor rolled through her shoulders as she gagged into her hand. In between gags she managed to say, “No, make him stop.” And pointed to the driver.

That was when Blair lost the fight with her stomach. The vomit came pouring out between her fingers and dripped onto her boyfriend’s legs. She couldn’t move away fast enough. Even when she did lean over the seat, she was still vomiting all over someone else’s car.

“Oh God,” Dakota said, feeling trapped with no way to help. Trapped…and now damp. He awkwardly held her body while she heaved over the seats. “Pull over!” he called to the driver.

The car swerved as the driver was startled by the noise. “What the hell? You said you weren’t drunk.”

Dakota wanted to growl at this man. “She’s sick, asshole. Stop the car.”

When the car came to a stop by the curb, Dakota helped his girlfriend out. With a hand still over her mouth, she stumbled to the pavement and heaved up what was left in her stomach.

“I’ve got you,” Dakota said, literally holding her at the waist. He ignored the car as it drove away. They would get a better ride because Blair was in no shape to walk the rest of the way.

“Oh fuck,” Blair said while wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist. There was a pathetic splatter of puke on the sidewalk but a more impressive splatter on Dakota’s pants. “I tried to hold it. I really did. God, look at you, I’m sorry.”

Dakota did look down at the mess on his pants. It was only very gross, but he wouldn’t tell Blair that. She no doubt already knew. She was feeling gross herself. “Yeah, you got me pretty good, didn’t you?” He held her against his body as she started shivering in the night air. “We might have a hard time finding a ride now.” He forced a laugh to lighten the mood. “We look like two alcoholics wandering the streets.”

“Ugh, this is all my fault. I just want to go home.” Blair said as Dakota hugged her tighter against his side.

“We’ll have to become hobos or hitch-hikers.”

“I’m serious. I feel really bad.”

“I’m serious too,” Dakota said with a grin. “We’ll have to sleep under a bridge, and I’ll nurse you back to health with nothing but rainwater.”

Blair weakly hit his arm. “Okay you made your point. Call us a ride before the nausea comes back.”

“Fine.” Dakota kissed her on the head. “I’m sorry you feel so crummy.”

She waved her hand. “At least we’ll be the best dressed hobos in the neighbourhood.”

#emeto #emetophilia #emeto fic #caretaking #sickfic #stomach flu #fever #emetophile #vomit kink #belly kink #my ocs #Dakota #Blair #vomiting #puking #stomach bug #emeto fiction

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amythedvdhoarder · 3 years

Text

An Apple a Day

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: Bucky’s eating habits have an unexpected effect on you

Warnings: Swearing. Knife play. Explicit sexual content. Unprotected sex. Oral (f receiving). 18+ only

A/N: This is a completely self-indulgent fic, probably the filthiest thing I have ever written. I watched an episode of Narco’s and saw someone eating an apple and this is the result!

Thank you to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for beta reading this for me and being so supportive and amazing! Ily hun 😘

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. The green apple in his metal hand and the knife in the other. He wasn’t even looking at what he was doing as he cut a piece off the apple, lifted it to his mouth and took it off the knife with his plump lips and thumb. The sight of him, so comfortable, knife in hand was making arousal pool at your core. It was impossible to know if this reaction was because of the action itself or the fact that it was Bucky doing it. No one could deny the appeal of Bucky, his broad shoulders, thick muscular thighs, which were at the minute spread open on the kitchen counter where he was currently sat having another bickering match with Sam.

His tongue darted out to lick some juice that was currently running down his finger. Your imagination went into overdrive, picturing his tongue running up and down your body, tasting you at your most intimate part. You had to bite on your lip to stifle a small moan, your thighs squeezing together to try and relieve some of the pressure that was building there.

“Y/N?... Hey Y/N, back me up here,” Sam’s voice snapped you from your thoughts.

“What?” you frowned, turning your gaze from Bucky to look at Sam.

“Tin man reckons that the food was better in the 40’s. That’s absolute madness, am I right?” Sam was pleading with you with his eyes for some sort of agreement from you.

“Mmmmm…” you looked from Sam back to Bucky who was watching you intently, a small smirk on his lips as if he knew what you were thinking before Sam had interrupted.

Even though you knew it was impossible for him to read your mind, you couldn’t stop the embarrassment washing through you. You had to get out of the room, Bucky’s eyes felt like they were burning into your skin.

“I mean, maybe you should ask Steve, look there he is,” you nodded towards the kitchen door which Steve had just walked through, covered in sweat from his workout.

“Ask me what?” Steve said, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a drink, before leaning against the counter next to Bucky.

You took that as your opportunity to escape, getting to your feet and quietly slipping out of the room. You chanced one look over your shoulder towards the men, and Bucky’s blue eyes instantly connected with yours. He tipped his knife from his forehead in a little salute and winked at you. You looked away quickly and hurried down the corridor to your room, leaving Bucky grinning behind you.

When you got to your room you slammed the door shut behind you. You sat straight on the end of your bed and tried to resist the urge to find some release, but as the image of Bucky eating the apple off the knife flooded back into your memory you caved, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding your hands into your panties.

You let out a sigh of relief when your fingers came into contact with your swollen bud. Dipping your fingers between your lips, you gathered up the slick that had formed there and then began to rub circles over your clit. Bucky had got you so worked up that you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach your peak. Adding a little more pressure, you let out a moan, collapsing back onto the bed, legs hanging over the edge. Your other hand snaked up your t-shirt to cup your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching your taut nipple through your lacy bra.

The coil in your belly was wound so tight, it only took a couple more flicks of your wrist and you were there. Toes curling, eyes scrunched shut as you cried out your pleasure, Bucky’s name tumbling from your mouth carelessly. You kept your fingers pressed to your clit as you prolonged your pleasure, walls pulsating in the aftermath of your orgasm. It took a couple of minutes for your breath to steady and heartbeat to return to normal. Finally, you removed your hand and sat up, shaking your head at how easily you’d become riled up. It made you feel like a horny teenager who couldn’t control themselves. Dragging yourself off your bed to go and have a shower, you vowed never to lose control like that again. Something that Bucky was going to make increasingly difficult over the next few days.

Bucky had walked away when Sam and Steve had begun having an in-depth discussion about the best shawarma place. He didn’t even know what that was. The route to his room took him past yours. He was about to knock on your door to check in when he heard it. His name falling from your lips. Bucky knew well enough what type of activity led to that type of noise. Picturing you, touching yourself to thoughts of him gave him his own problem to go and take care of.

Neither of you had ever admitted that there was some sort of attraction between you, but you had always teased each other and flirted a little. Bucky hadn’t even been trying anything today but clearly it had an impact. Bucky wanted you and he knew you wanted him. Now it was just a case of seeing who would make the other crack first and after today’s incident he had a feeling his road to victory just got a whole lot clearer.

For the next couple of days, every time you ran into Bucky, either in the gym, in the living room or in the kitchen he had a knife in his hand; twirling in around his fingers, doing little catches with it to change his grip. He appreciated how your eyes would widen, gaze fixed on his hand and the blade and bite down on your lip. Bucky would smirk at you and utter the word ‘training’ to you, and you would just nod, unable to form words.

If you didn’t know what he was doing before you definitely did when you found the apple sat on your bedside table with a note.

Just in case you need a little inspiration

Clearly, he had heard you the other day and was trying to provoke you into something. Well, two could play at that game.

The next day you made sure to wear your shortest workout shorts and covered your sports bra with a barely there vest top, the latter of which you planned on removing during your gym session when Bucky arrived. You also made sure that you were all over Sam; laughing loudly at all his jokes, touching his arm when you were having a rest in between reps. Then there was the more direct approach; using the machine next to where Bucky was throwing knives, letting out little sighs or moans when you were lifting weights, squatting in front of him to provide him with a clear view of your ass.

You knew it was working when you spotted the bulge forming in his shorts. Bucky smirked at you when he saw you looking at it and made no attempt to hide it as he walked over to his bag. When you looked around the gym you noticed it had emptied except for the two of you. Bucky walked back towards you, and you let out a little gasp. He sat down next to you on the bench and started cutting off a slice of apple. You watched as he moved the apple to his lips and lifted it from the knife with his tongue, all whilst his eyes were fixed on you.

The next slice he brought to your parted lips; the cold knife touched your bottom lip making a small shiver run through you. Bucky’s bright blue eyes had darkened as they locked with yours with such intensity that you could have forgotten your own name. Your teeth sunk into the crisp apple as you drew in into your mouth and bit down on the cool, sour slice. A little juice escaped the corner of your mouth, you were about to lift your fingers to wipe it, but Bucky beat you to it. Quickly dropping the knife and apple on the bench, thumb brushing against your lips, catching the small droplet. You watched as he then wrapped his plump lips around it, sucking off the juice, letting out a little hum of satisfaction.

You licked your lips and Bucky’s eyes flicked down to them.

“Can I?” he shifted towards you, eyes meeting yours, asking permission.

“Only if it means I win?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Fuck, I surrender,” Bucky’s words muffled as he crashed his lips to yours.

Both of you attacked each other with your mouths, teeth clashing and tongues tangling. You scrambled towards each other and as you tried to climb onto his lap, you tumbled to the mat below dragging Bucky down on top of you.

“You ok?” Bucky asked between kisses.

“Yes, don’t stop” you breathed.

His hands were all over you, fingertips exploring every dip and curve available to him. Your fingers wound into his hair, tugging at it slightly making him moan into your mouth. You closed your eyes, tipping back your head when his lips travelled down your jaw to your newly exposed throat where he nipped and sucked on the sensitive skin, making you gasp as he left a trail of marks down to your chest stopping when he reached the top of your sports bra.

Bucky looked up admiring how dazed you already looked. “Do you trust me?” He said, pushing himself up so his face was level with yours once again.

You nodded at him without hesitation.

“Good,” he lifted off you suddenly as he reached behind for the knife that had been discarded earlier.

You shuddered in anticipation as you felt another flood of arousal pool in your panties when Bucky knelt beside you, the silver blade in his hand glinting in the fluorescent light. He pressed the flat side of the blade to the bare skin on your stomach and slid the cold steel along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His hand went to the middle of your bra, lifting it far enough from your skin so that he could slide the knife into the gap and cut straight down the middle. The material fell back revealing your chest, when you saw the way Bucky was admiring you, you couldn’t even be mad at the destruction of your clothing.

The knife pressed against one of your pebbled peaks and you let out a hiss, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. Bucky’s other hand went to your ribs as he dragged the blade up and over the swell of your breast and down your sternum.

“Keep still,” he murmured in your ear as he moved up the underside of the other breast, the tip of the knife brushing lightly against your flesh before the flat edge pressed against your other nipple. He repeated the same action except this time the knife's journey continued downwards to the waistband of your shorts. Your fingers dug into the mat as you tried to stay absolutely still. Bucky began cutting away at your shorts and underwear until you were bare before him.

“Doing ok, doll? He put the knife down and cupped your cheeks, searching your eyes quickly to check up on you.

“Mmmmm, but imma gonna need you to speed up a little,” you looked at him with the hint of a challenge in your eyes.

“You may regret that,” he grinned as he reached behind, pulling his t-shirt off with one hand then getting to his feet to remove his final layers of clothing

You leant up on your elbows and cocked your head to the side, taking him in all his naked glory. His hardened length twitched under your inspection.

“I can work with that,” you shrugged.

“Oh, you’re definitely going to regret that.” With that he pounced on you capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

Your fingers ran down his back, digging into the rippling muscles as his went to your chest, kneading your soft flesh whilst his thumbs toyed with your peaked buds. His mouth moved down to replace his metal hand, tongue laving at your sensitive skin. You arched your back, pushing your chest against him, craving more contact. He chuckled against you before nipping at your flesh and then soothing it with his tongue. Bucky then went back and forth using your moans and gasps for direction.

His thigh placed between yours was pressing against your core and you couldn’t help but try and grind yourself against it, seeking to increase the friction.

Bucky pulled his mouth away and tsked at you. “I don’t think so doll, there’s only one thing you get to rub your pussy against and that ain’t it.” You let out a huff of frustration which earnt you a sharp pinch of your nipple.

“So impatient” Bucky scolded as he lifted himself off your body and situated himself between your thighs. He snaked his metal hand under your lower back and lifted your core to his face. A man starved. That’s the only way to describe how he ate you out. His tongue speared into your heat, groaning as he got his first taste.

“So sweet,” he hummed against you, the vibrations making your hips move on their own accord. His mouth moved up, lips pushing back the hood so his tongue could press directly to your clit. You nearly came right there, body writhing under his ministrations. As he continued, alternating between quick flicks and flattened circles, you reached down grabbing onto his hair, holding him against you, earning a grunt from the man between your legs. A fire was burning in your stomach that felt ready to explode. And it did when Bucky thrust two thick fingers into your centre, the extra stimulation all that was needed to spark the chain reaction. You spasmed around him; back arching, thighs tightening to keep him in place, as he worked you through your high, tongue lapping up everything you had to offer.

When your thighs finally relaxed, and Bucky felt your walls still, he knelt back on his thighs and sucked your juices off his fingers.

“Tastes like fucking nectar,” he mused, “going to need some more of that. But now, I need to feel that tight pussy around my cock.”

Your desire peaked again at his words you widened your legs to make space for him. He leaned over, caging you in with his arms before ducking to press his swollen lips to yours, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You reached down between your bodies and took his hard length in your hand, thumb gliding over Bucky’s weeping tip. A growl rumbled deep in his chest at you rubbed his cock along your centre, coating him in your slick. His bulbous head caught on your entrance and he slowly pushed into your welcoming heat. Both of you moaned into each other’s mouths as he stretched you open. Bucky dropped his forehead to yours, eyes closed as he sucked in a deep breath trying to calm himself as your tight walls fit around him like a glove.

He waited until you wiggled your hips impatiently against him before moving, almost completely pulling out before slowly sinking home again. Bucky continued at a steady pace, concentrating on how your mouth fell open and the little moans you were emitting that he could have listened to all day.

Even at this slow pace, every vein on his length seemed to be designed for your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you encouraged him to move faster, needing him to go faster. He obliged almost immediately, he dropped his lips to yours again for a messy kiss as his hips began to piston in and out of you. Your arms braced against his shoulders, fingernails leaving marks on his skin as you matched his thrusts with movements of your own. Soon both of you were panting, breathing in each other’s hot breath.

“So fucking tight,” Bucky grunted in your ear and you cried out as he hit the part of you that had you seeing stars.

“Don’t…fucking…stop,” each word was punctuated by a hard thrust.

Bucky could feel your walls starting to constrict around him, so shifted all his weight onto his metal arm allowing his flesh arm to travel between your bodies and find your clit. When his thumb made contact, the coil in your belly wound tighter than it ever had before. A few skilled movements and he had you falling over the precipice and into the abyss. You screamed out his name, eyes rolling back into your head, clinging onto him for dear life, as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through your body, your velvety walls gripping him like a vice.

He could feel his own release nearing and lowered to his forearms, head dropping to your shoulder as he hammered in and out, fucking you through your orgasm. Bucky felt a tightening in his abs and he struggled to maintain a rhythm; hips stuttering, muscles tightening and warmth blooming within him. He pushed in one final time and grunted loudly in your ear as hot ropes of his spend coated your insides.

Your fingers ran through his hair as he dropped an open mouth kiss to your neck before gently pulling out of you and rolling the pair of you over, so you were resting on his chest.

After both of you had caught your breath and were capable of speech again, you tilted your head up so you could look at him. “Can you do one thing for me, Bucky?”

“Sure thing Doll, just name it,” he kissed your damp forehead.

“Could you cool it with the apples? I don’t know what it is, but it drives me crazy,” you admitted.

He wrapped his arm tighter around your back and looked at you very seriously. “I would but you know what they say, an apple a day.”

“Asswipe,” you elbowed him in the stomach, and he burst out laughing making you roll your eyes.

“Ok I’m sorry. How about I make you a deal? I get my apple, but you get to be my second course?” His face was the perfect picture of innocence, the complete opposite to his sinful proposition.

You pretended to think about it carefully, biting on your lip, letting out little hums of contemplation, and scrunching your nose up in thought. Bucky fidgeted underneath you and when you felt like you had teased him enough you sat up and offered him your hand.

“I think I could make that work,” you grinned.

Divider by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

Gif not mine, credit to the creator

Taglists are open. Let me know if you want in or out!

Everything:

@stargazingfangirl18 , @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm @alexa-lightwood-blog, @angrythingstarlight, @drabblewithfrannybarnes, @rogueheretic555, @rebekahdawkins, @chrissquares, @pumpkin-and-pine, @hereforbuckyandsteve, @drakelover78, @baddie-barnes, @cas25214, @pandaxnienke, @thehumanistsdiary, @saiyanprincessswanie, @ladyacrasia, @sweeterthanthis, @joannie95, @lennon-knox, @navybrat817

Bucky:

@its-izzys, @archy3001

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader smut #18+

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

Text

Last chapter of this volume! Can’t believe we’re already through four volumes, and we’re not even done with the second full arc yet. I mean, later arcs are gonna be even longer, but like. Yeah.

[No. 35 - Battle On, Challengers!]

We move on to the next match - Kaminari versus Shiozaki! I’m actually kind of marveled that they were able to thaw out that entire glacier in any sort of timely manner. That’s quirks for you!

Present Mic announces Shiozaki as class 1b’s assassin, and also reveals that he apparently either doesn’t know the full quote for ‘every rose has its thorns’ or started to say it, only to realize she didn’t have roses and scrambled to compensate. Kaminari, meanwhile, gets announced as a ‘sparking, killing boy.’ Really kind of morbid on this round, huh?

Shiozaki turns around to object to Present Mic’s descriptor as an ‘assassin’, stating that she’s merely come this far seeking victory. Present Mic apologises, and Kaminari just kind of watches while admiring her. He takes notes of her eyes, and then thinks about how strong she is. He then sort of counters his previous admiration of strength by asking himself if he really has to hit someone so pretty with a full discharge, then concludes his ‘battle plan’ by determining that he’ll ask her out once all this is over.

Present Mic starts the match while Shiozaki is still focused on talking to Mic - which means she’s facing away from Kaminari. Which is kind of a dick move on Mic’s part, but eh, I guess ‘heroes have to be ready for anything,’ yarda yarda etcetera.

Kaminari asks Shiozaki if she wants to grab something to eat when they’re done there, and that he’s happy to console her if she wants. She turns to stare at him in confusion, just in time to see him charging up his whole body with his quirk. Kaminari makes a quip about this match probably being over in an instant - and then we cut to the immediate aftermath, where Present Mic comments on how it’s already over while Kaminari wheys out in the grasp of Shiozaki’s vines. Shiozaki was both able to create a shield against the electricity and yank Kaminari into the air and away from her, thus causing him to short-circuit.

One on patrol, Mount Lady comments on Shiozaki being a promising one, and another plant user. Kamui Woods amits he wishes he could’ve seen her up close, but that they need to get back to work.

Back in the stadium, Midnight announces Shiozaki moving on to the second round. Shiozaki is relieved to have no wasted the opportunity bestowed upon her, and the narrative finally gives us an informational blurb on her quirk.

...A strange ending note there, but sure. Some of the crowd - or possibly Izuku? Since he’s sinking into a muttering fest right after - comments on the ‘match’ and the participants. Shiozaki’s ability to use her quirk is something else, between building walls, binding enemies… Kaminari’s quirk was no use against her. She countered him well. He might’ve had a chance if he could maneuver better, but he panicked and short-circuited after one attack.

Ochako hears muttering besides her and is a bit alarmed, looking over to see Izuku in the middle of an analysis fugue. Izuku mutters about thinking Kaminari’s quirk would be stronger, but Shiozaki got fourth in the entrance exam, and she’s the real deal. The vine moves are similar to Kamui Wood’s binding attacks, and binding types are always strong, to the point where you almost never see someone break out. It’s pretty much impossible to dodge all the vine attacks, so the only counter is to rip them apart with brute strength - ah, but to prevent that, they tend to go for the hands first.

(...and I just NOW realized that this specific commentary about binding-type quirks and the counter being brute strength is literally something that comes into play when Best Jeanist binds Gigantomachia with those steel cables during the Jakku arc. Holy shit, I don’t think Hori intended it, but what a callback. Or it’s just good worldbuilding, which would also be neat!)

Ochako eventually cuts into Izuku’s muttering - startling him in the process - by commenting on how his match just ended, but he’s already thinking ahead strategy-wise. Izuku denies it, saying that it’s just a hobby of his, and that they finally have a chance to see the quirks of people outside their class in action. He then eagerly shows her his open notebook, stating that he has everything she’d need to know about class A in there - even her ‘zero gravity’.

Me, staring down the people who have the class unaware of the contents of Izuku’s notebooks when writing suspected traitor fics:

Anyways! Ochako is kind of impressed despite herself, stating that she thought Izuku was amazing from the day they met, but this sports festival has brought him to a whole other level. Izuku is confused by the complement, but there’s no time to ask, since Present Mic is announcing the participants of the next battle: Tenya versus Hatsume.

Some of the students are chattering about how the match is going to go, with one asking what is that - which seems to be referring to the support items Tenya is wearing? Midnight comments on it as well, noting that they’re forbidden for hero course students, and that a special request has to be put in for those things beforehand. Tenya admits he forgot, seeing as Aoyama was wearing that belt of his. Midnight reminds him that Aoyama applied for an exception.

Tenya apologies, stating that he’d been touched by Hatsuma’s sense of sportsmanship. Although she’s a member of the support course, she came to him and said that if they’re to be seen as equals, then they should fight on equal footing. She gave those items to him; her earnest spirit… he could never look down on it. That was his thinking.

Midnight apparently is now all for this, calling Tenya naive. Mic says that it’s good enough for him, and Aizawa says that if both parties are fine with it, he supposes it can be allowed… right? Izuku, up in the stands, is looking concerned, wondering if Hatsume is really the type to offer that. Hatsume, of course, is chuckling as she flips down a microphone right as the match starts.

Mei immediately starts going into her spiel, commenting on Tenya’s speed - much to the confusion of both Mic and Tenya. She then points out how Tenya’s legs should feel lighter than usual, and that that’s what one can expect with her custom leg parts, which keep up with their user’s speed! However, dodging is no problem for her with her hydraulic attachment bars! Which she deploys just before Tenya reaches her, causing him to trip over one of the bars and flail.

Mei checks for where the support companies were seated, her quirk zeroing in on the faces she’s looking for - which, to her pleasure, are eating her words up.

Tenya catches himself and spins on his heels, wondering what she’s going. Hatsume complements it, noting how her auto-balancer makes those sorts of tight movements possible. Meanwhile, up in the announcement booth, Mic and Aizawa are both so put out, with Aizawa facepalming and calling her a born saleswoman.

The game of tag, along with a completely play-by-play sales pitch, goes on for another ten minutes. Eventually, however, Hatsume steps over the line, sweating but proud of managing to get through everything she wants to show off. Midnight states that Tenya’s moving on to the second round, while Tenya is just in despair at the deception.

Ah, the face of someone with zero shame. Hatsume gives a completely insincere apology for using Tenya, which Tenya replies to by stating his extreme dislike of her.

Izuku is also a bit dismayed as he notes that Tenya is just too serious, so it wasn’t hard for her to get him to play her game, and that at least she’s honest about her under-handed methods to get what she wants. Ochako herself is looking a bit down as she gets up, quietly noting to Izuku that she should get to the prep room. Izuku notes that she left her still-full drink behind, glancing back to her in concern as she walks away.

As other matches run in the background, we shift over to prep room two, which Tenya is just entering. Ochako, already waiting in there, tells him good which, which startles him out of his funk as he recognizes her. Of course, the first thing he notes is her furrowed brows, which Ochako admits is probably from her being a bit nervous, and how it’s probably showing on her face. Tenya remembers her match is against Katsuki, and Ochako admits that she’s really scared. But, seeing Tenya out there, she…

Well, before she can finish her thought, Izuku bursts into the room. Ochako is confused, since he should be out there watching the other matches. Tenya to the side asks about the story behind the support girl. Izuku ignores the latter, telling Ochako that another two matches are already over, and now Kirishima and some class 1b guy are duking it out. Mina managed to damage Aoyama’s belt, he panicked, and she knocked him out with an uppercut to the chin. Then Tokoyami won his match in a flash - he didn’t give Momo the time to use the objects she made… he’s one of the strongest guys here in a one-on-one. Ochako realizes this means her match is up soon, her heart pounding in her chest.

Tenya can’t imagine that Katsuki would give it his explosive all against a female opponent, but Izuku cuts in, staring very firmly that Katsuki will. Everyone is competing here with the dream of becoming number one. No one’s holding back - Katsuki least of all. However, Ochako’s already helped Izuku so much, so he thought he might return the favor…

He really just stores his notebooks anywhere he can. What a legend. He offers the notebook, stating that Ochako needs a counter-strategy against Katsuki - one that uses her quirk. He came up with it on the fly, but it might work! Tenya is relief, stating how fortunate Ochako is. Ochako thanks Izuku, but says that it’s okay. Both Izuku and Tenya are startled by the reply.

Ochako states how amazing Izuku is, and how he does amazing stuff all the time. During the cavalry battle, she thought the easiest strategy woul be to team up with friends. But when she thinks about it, she was just putting her faith in Izuku. That’s why Tenya said ‘I challenge you’ and all that, which left her feeling a little embarrassed about herself.

She pushes herself to her feet, moving past them to get to her match as she says thanks, but no thanks. Everyone here is fighting for their futures, so doesn’t that make them all rivals? That’s why she’ll see him in the finals!

Ochako, sweetie…

Kirishima and Tetsutetsu knock each other out at the same time. Present Mic comments on the mirror image quirk matchup, and how the winner is… neither! They have a tie, since both are down. Midnight clarifies that in the event of a tie, they’ll determine the winner after the two recover, probably with an arm wrestling match or the like. The crowds comment on how they’re equal in strength, and how that was great though. They kind of hotbloodedness would be a great morale boost, and how they’re desirable as sidekicks.

Shouto watches on as the final two contestants of the first round enter the arena. Tsuyu states her worries about the match, and Jirou addson how she doesn’t want to watch it. Izuku quietly hopes for Ochako to do her best.

And so the final match is announced: Ochako versus Katsuki.

And with that, volume four is done! I’ll be getting up the character sheet first, and then digging into the bonus material. Hopefully y’all enjoy!

#chapter 35 #sports festival arc #readthrough #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #Iida Tenya #uraraka ochako #kayama nemuri #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #Hatsume Mei #Kaminari Denki #shiozaki ibara #not related to this post or anything #but happy birthday tenya #what a good bean #he gets so betrayed in this chapter

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bebepac · 3 years

Text

Derby Girl

ORIGINAL POST DATE: 05/12/21 at 7:22PM EST

This is The Life of Riley Book Two. To catch up with what you’ve missed so far, please click:

The Life of Riley- Book Two.

My Book 2 starts with basically TRR book 1 starts.

If you’re curious to see the elaborate back story I have created for my version of Riley Brooks Please click:

The Life of Riley Book One.

It will answer a lot of your questions that are left out of the Canon that PB wrote.

The Book: TRR

The Pairing: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 2011

Warnings: Sexual innuendo

Summary: Riley goes to her first derby. Liam and Drake make a bet (this episode has a few canon-ish parts. The most you’ll see in my series.)

Deena is my own character, all others belong to Pixelberry.

A/N: I’m on vacation as of yesterday until May 25th. I plan to do as much writing as i can in this time period. Hopefully release some chapters of people’s favorites and get back on schedule a little bit with some releases on things people haven’t seen in a bit.

Riley slowly opened her eyes.

She thought she had dreamed the whole thing. She was sure she would wake up in her tiny little apartment with Daniel. She sat up in the ornately designed bedroom.

She went to peer out over the balcony seeing the beautifully trimmed gardens.

I really have the chance to win a Prince’s heart. She thought. Last night dancing in the Maze with Liam was the most amazing feeling. Riley could not wipe the dopey grin she had on her face.

There was a soft knock on her door.

Maxwell appeared.

“Good Morning Little Blossom! How are you today? You look so happy this morning.”

“I’m great. I’m still so amazed by this place at times Maxwell. There’s just so much beauty here. And Liam is here."

“And you get to be a part of this Little Blossom, because of the way he feels about you. I see the way Prince Liam looks at you.”

“Then why can’t he just say it then?”

“Because that’s not how things are done here with people of his status. You wouldn’t only be only his choice, but the choice of the people and they have to love you too and they don’t know you. No one knows who Riley Antonia Brooks of New York truly is.”

Both Riley and Maxwell abruptly turned around to the voice of the person talking in the room.

Smile officially gone. Stolen by the rat bastard with the sneer standing at the door to her bedroom.

“Lady Riley meet my brother Bertrand.”

“The Duke of Ramsford.”

Riley decided since he went with such a formal title even though she was wearing her pajamas she should curtsy. He seemed stuffy and the antithesis of Maxwell.

He nodded. “The New Yorker can be trained to fit in here.”

Riley glared at him. “I’m not an animal Duke Ramsford.”

“That remains to be seen. If the Cordonian people do not fall in love with you, even though he could be Lady Riley, he will not choose you. Love is not the only thing that matters here. It’s honestly not even a factor here. Prince Liam has a duty to his people to pick the most suitable woman to be at his side. So you, my dear idealistic girl, must learn to give the people what they want. The derby today will give you the opportunity to meet the press for the first time. This will set the tone of how the people will begin to approve of you or disapprove of you. The Queen is also important here as well.”

“I think the Queen might potentially be on my side.”

Bertrand laughed. “You don’t know The Queen.”

“I met with her and she wasn’t rude to me. She was actually helpful when you think about it. She told me to get a feel for the audience that will be watching me and dress for them. I think that’s helpful advice.”

“You’re right, that is helpful advice.” Maxwell chimed in trying to release some of the tension.

“You need to get ready. Head to the boutique and make sure you pick something suitable.”

Riley almost didn’t want to go to the boutique after what happened to her the last time.

However, when she walked in, she was greeted by a kind middle-aged woman with a genuinely welcoming smile.

“And you must be Lady Riley.”

“I am.” Riley still had her guard up her voice and body language tight and protecting herself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh?”

“I know that the last time you were here, you didn’t have the greatest experience with the staff, and I apologize for that, but if there is anything you need I will be more than willing to assist.”

“Thank you so very much.”

Riley smiled.

“It’s no wonder….”

“It’s no wonder what?”

“Why he’s so enchanted with you. Lady Riley you’re absolutely breathtaking, without a stitch of makeup, and you have such a kind-hearted spirit. I can almost feel it radiate off you. I was sworn to secrecy, because he couldn’t hide how he feels about you. Let me know if you need any help picking out something for him. You’re living your very own Cinderella story right now.”

It was the nicest anyone had been to her since she landed. Riley’s eyes filled with tears.

“Oh no, don’t do that dear. I know things have been a little rough for you. The royal life is not easy. They don’t only fight with words, they fight with glares and underhanded behaviors. But I’m here now. At least here, you will always be treated like the royalty I believe you will become someday. Now let’s pick out something beautiful for him.”

Riley thumbed through the racks.

"If I may? I did notice his eyes fall on this dress here. It looks to be your size, and that color would look like heaven on you."

"Pink is my favorite color."

"Then you should try it on."

This woman Deena, had made the palace boutique an oasis.

Riley tried on the dress staring at herself in the mirror.

"His face is going to be just as pink as that dress when he sees you. That dress was made for you. And since you're going to the derby try this as well."

She gave Riley a white hat.

The hat didn't quite stay on.

Riley laughed. "Big hair goals and hats don't generally mix."

Deena laughed. "This is true. I think Dolly Parton said it best, if someone tells you hair is too big. Get rid of them, you don't need that kind of negativity in your life!"

"That's a plan!"

“Thank you Deena.”

“You show them honey. You show them why he’s picking you.”

Riley decided to be the "Derby Girl" for the day she would straighten her hair. The hat laid perfectly.

“Little Blossom! You look amazing!”

“Thank you Lord Maxwell,” she responded as Bertrand walked into the room.

“Yes, she picked a suitable outfit to be seen in and for the media. We should be on our way.”

The whole duration of the ride Bertrand droned on about royalty, the queen, and the event and the Cordonian Ruby Apple.

“When you are done with your interview you’re going to go over to the pink tents to watch the race with the other suitors.”

“Greaaat. Will Prince Liam be dropping by?”

“Probably not, you’ll see him at the picnic afterwards.”

“You got this Little Blossom!”

Riley managed to stay cool and calm while talking to the press. The press deemed her “The Mystery Woman” based on her answers. It was fitting she thought, because a lot of her life, even for herself, was a mystery to her. All the missing memory gaps she had of her life before the accident, at times, Riley felt she barely knew herself.

She looked for the pink tents not seeing any, but when she turned she saw Drake heading toward a tent. She quickly followed him, leaping inside.

The Prince jumped to attention, his jaw locked, his body rigid, and his face stern. She realized what she had done. He had probably been trained for surprise attacks, and he had to always be alert.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t think..” Riley whispered.

The prince visibly relaxed.

“No, on the contrary it’s a very welcome surprise. How did you manage to get in here?”

“Playing a game of following the leader.”

The beer Drake was about to drink she pulled from his hand.

“Thanks for the beer Drake, you're too kind.”

Drake looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.

Liam lightly cleared his throat.

“I’m going to….”

“You don’t have to….” Riley started to say, but she saw the look in Liam’s eyes.

“Bye Drake.” She whispered, her eyes not leaving Liam’s.

Drake walked out letting the tent fall closed.

He pulled Riley to his lap, softly stroking her hair.

“You look beautiful. But you know I love your curls.”

“I know. I would have had a wardrobe malfunction otherwise if i didn’t straighten it. My hat wouldn’t fit.”

“You would have been just as beautiful without it.”

“I know but it’s the derby and Bertrand was making such a big deal about the derby and looking appropriate. And even though I know nothing else about derbys I know next to the horse race, number two is woman in hats. Your hat game must be on point. Serious hat-age.”

Liam laughed, tightening his grip around her.

“Lady Riley, no one makes me laugh like you do. I’m always so happy when you’re around. Not just the things you say, or the way you look at me. It’s who you are, that radiates off you, and I just feel it wrap around me.”

“And what does that feel like?”

“You feel like sunshine Lady Riley. Sunshine on a summer day. The perfect summer day. When you close your eyes and just feel the sun warm your skin, and you are so content to just.....be in that moment. That’s how I feel when we are in the same space together.”

She softly kissed his lips.

He began another kiss, but then pulled away too soon. “As much as I would love to see where this could go, we have to at least watch the race.” Riley slipped off his lap into the seat next to him as he opened the tent.

Drake came in a few minutes later with new beers.

Riley was silent, listening to Liam and Drake talk about the race and their friendly wager, and how she got roped into it she’ll never know. She was going to be sitting on the back of the loser while they did ten push-ups.

“Who’s your money on winning the bet, me or Drake?”

Riley winced.

“As much faith as I have in you Liam, I think Drake might know more about horses and the stables. So my money is on Drake. I’m sorry.”

“Ouch that had to hurt Liam.” Drake chuckled.

Liam looked hurt.

“Did you want the truth, or did you want me to lie to you Liam?”

“The truth Lady Riley, always the truth.”

Annnnd…. Riley was right.

Liam unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it on the empty chair.

He got into a push-up position.

“Lady Riley if you will.”

Riley hopped onto Liam’s back. Even though he was surprised he still held a tight planked push up position.

“Lady Riley!”

“God she’s ruthless, are you sure you want this one?” Drake laughed.

“I’ve been on him before, I knew he could handle it.”

Liam choked back a laugh for a moment, his form unwavering.

“She’s right, I can handle her.”

“TMI Brooks!!!”

Liam easily did all ten push ups unbroken.

When Liam was done he put on his dress shirt again.

“Drake will take you back to the other suitors for a late lunch.”

“A sweet little goodbye kiss to tide me over until I'm in your presence again?”

Riley seductively puckered her lips, tapping her index finger against them.

Liam glanced around and pulled her to him kissing her. Her fingers gently tugged his hair as his kiss deepened and his grip tightened around her.

Drake dropped her off with the other suitors.

“I can’t believe we didn’t even get to see Prince Liam at all!” Lady Penelope's voice rang out in annoyance. “I had the best story to tell about my poodles to make him laugh.”

“Where were you Lady Riley?”

“I got lost again. All these places around here look the same. Drake found me finally and brought me over here to you guys.”

“Lady Riley you need to get it together. Being late because you got lost won’t look well for you with the media.” Lady Kiara shook her head.

“I’m not sure I believe her.”

Olivia stepped up to her staring into Riley’s face.

“Why would I lie? You saw Drake drop me off here right Liv?”

“I saw, but something feels off. I don’t trust you Lady Riley. Something is afoot.”

“Well, then I guess it’s game on then, Scarlet Duchess?”

“Yes. Game on.”

Tags in the comments!

#bebepac writes #the life of riley #book two #riley goes to cordonia #trr fanfic #trr fandom #liam and riley #trr mc x liam #prince liam #riley brooks #riley origin story #trr riley #choices fic writers creations

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straightlikewetspaghetti · 3 years

Text

Demons of the Past

Pairings: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: Mature language

Word count: 3074

Ch.1 Stranger Danger

Poppy Min Sinclair had to arch her slender neck to see her reflection from over the shoulder of Chloe, who had been testing her new artistic vision on her for a good few minutes. For some time now, Poppy had become a canvas for Chloe's magical hands as she tried her luck at running a beauty salon, along with Veronica, who was doing her best advertising.

"What do you think V?"

Veronica tore her gaze away from her phone and looked towards Poppy wrinkling her nose slightly. She usually did that when she was seriously considering something. "As far as I'm concerned she could use some plastic surgery."

"Asshole," Poppy laughed hurling a pillow at her friend, which missed and knocked over a decorative vase standing nearby. Three girls looked in that direction and soon the three of them burst out laughing loudly, curling up on the floor.

"Enough, enough!", Chloe began to shout when she noticed that Poppy wanted to wipe her eyes from crying, and she caught her hands, looking at her with a chastising gaze. She wouldn't let her hard work be destroyed so easily. Poppy rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face remained constant as she silently teased the shorter girl along with Veronica. "Why am I hanging out with you guys..."

"You love us," whined Veronica hugging a reddened Chloe with one arm, who lowered her gaze quickly to her hands nervously playing with the hem of her skirt.

Poppy made the sound of displeasure she made whenever the two girls started acting too cute. She was glad for their happiness, but deep down she felt an incredible jealousy, because she herself would like to share her life with someone too.

The couple sort of understood the blonde, pulled away from each other and looked at her docilely.

"Don't worry Poppy, I'm sure you'll meet someone at the party tonight. From what I heard Zoey invited some cutie from the old days...", Chloe smiled as she tried to convey positive energy with her words. "Besides, you're wearing my makeup, no one will be able to resist you!"

"Cutie you say..."

Ch.2 Party Fever

She was the most beautiful girl in the whole room.

No.

She was the most beautiful girl in the entire world.

Bea watched from a dark corner of the room as Poppy twirled effortlessly to the beat of the music, attracting the stares of drooling people with her movements. Her tiny skirt didn't leave much to the imagination either, but that was Poppy Min Sinclair's style; if she wasn't the main attraction, what was the point of her presence?

"You're acting like a creep," she was snapped out of her observation by Zoey who magically appeared next to her, making her almost gasp.

"You should have some kind of bell around your neck, Wade," Bea rolled her eyes at her friend's laughter.

"Wow, she has nice ass... Ets, yeah, nice assets," Zoey smiled innocently seeing her friend's murderous gaze. "You'd better come over to her eventually,"

Her gaze went back to the dancing blonde. "It's been five years, what should I say to her?"

"Maybe something like; Heya Pops I already have money, maybe you want to come with me for a little Macarena?", the black-haired squirmed as Bea's fist landed right in her stomach, almost knocking the air out of her lungs. The slight pain she felt didn't stop her from laughing at the tomato-like look that appeared on her friend's face. "Come on babe, she's at the bar now, this is your opportunity."

Bea nodded and straightened up, ready to attack. "You finally said something with sense."

Ch.3 Deja-vu

"One Old Fashioned and Sex On The Beach."

Poppy turned behind her with a ready biting remark, but her voice froze in her throat when she saw the person standing behind her. And it was none other than Bea Hughes herself, her first drink, crush, kiss, sex, love, but also her first heartbreak. She stood before her as casually as if those five years of separation between them had never existed. Her short brown hair, now shoulder-length, was whiter than snow itself. Her childlike facial features had sharpened and she could see tiny wrinkles appearing from the overworked late nights. Her style had also changed, from boyishly sporty and bad girl to formal and important. She looked like a millionaire ripped straight from the cover of Forbes. She no longer resembled the person she once was.

"You remembered what I drink," the blonde choked out as the first wave of shock left her and the lump in her throat loosened. Talking to her seemed so unreal that she felt like she had lost consciousness and was now dreaming.

Bea smiled in response, though it was more of a tired smile than the beaming howl with which she had greeted Poppy daily in their school years. "There are some things that are hard to forget Pops," the white-haired girl shrugged her shoulders sheepishly as she slid the hundred across the counter towards the bartender, who with renewed vigor reached over and ran to prepare the drinks, nearly tipping over his own feet.

"Feeling generous tonight?", Poppy chuckled as she watched Bea tuck a rather thick bundle of bills into her pocket. In their teenage years, the white-haired girl had barely been able to make ends meet, but Poppy had always admired her ability to live from day to day and enjoy herself, even when an eviction order from her home hung over her head.

Bea laughed a throaty laugh that sounded almost like a cough. She nodded and tilted her head to one side, the way she did every time she got into a thoughtful mood. "There's nothing wrong with supporting the littles." Poppy's insides tightened to ask where she'd gotten all that money, but by some miracle her strong will managed to curb the urge and nip it in the bud. That would be tactless, and lack of tact is a trait that should not be associated with Min Sinclair.

"You can ask me anything you want," Bea looked her straight in the eye, making Poppy stop seeing anyone else but her. It was as if she had cast a spell on her and moved them far away, enclosing them in a safe bubble illusion. Even the music became just a distant rumble as the white-haired woman looked at her that way. The same way she had looked at her five years ago.

"I don't understand," the blonde cursed herself when she heard her own words, which sounded more idiotic than some of Chloe's wisdom. Bea seemed unmoved, by her clumsy attempt at pretending, in fact, a cocky grin appeared on her lips that she, oh so much, felt like tearing off now.

" Don't play games Poppy, we're not kids anymore," Bea reached for the drinks that had finally been brought in and handed one to Poppy, completely casually, fingertips brushing against the skin of her palm. "Drink up, it'll help you relax, and I know you have a lot of questions."

The blonde lowered her gaze to the drink and took a moment to look at the colors that danced on the surface of her liquor. How was Bea able to read her like an open book after all these years. Everyone said she had changed, but could it be that the change wasn't so great after all? And why was she always questioning herself in her company?

She was pulled out of her reverie by Bea, who unnoticeably slipped her finger under her chin and lifted her face so that they were looking at each other again. This time, however, she was closer, much, much closer. Poppy could without much difficulty smell the expensive perfume that didn't match the Bea of her memories, but did match the woman who sat before her. Just as in years past, Bea's thumb involuntarily stroked her cheek.

For a brief moment, the blonde let her selfish thoughts consume her and savor the touch, but it didn't last as long as she wanted it to. "N-no," she whispered and using all of her strong willpower she moved a safe distance away from the white-haired woman, who didn't object to her reaction. "I can't do it like this," she said as she walked away, escaping as quickly as possible from this cursed place, from this cursed past.

Ch.4 When It Rains, It Pours

When she left the building, it was already dark and chilly outside, and a light rain was drizzling from the heavy clouds hanging in the sky. At this point, however, she didn't care about ruining her expensive and designer clothes and makeup that Chloe had sat on for dozens of minutes. She needed to get some fresh air, cool down, and let her thoughts flow.

Why had she come back just now? Now that Poppy had put her life back together, without her and without thoughts of her.

"Sinclair!"

"You've got to be kidding me," she snorted under her breath hearing Bea's loud voice behind her, who as usual wasn't giving up. At least that hadn't changed. "What do you want Farmsville?"

Bea squirmed at that old nickname, but quickly imposed a stoic expression on her face and shoved her hands into her pockets. Even in this gentle rain and illuminated only by the slightly penetrating moonlight, she continued to look like a goddess, which annoyed Poppy immensely.

"You ran out so suddenly, I thought something happened and I thought..."

"Oooh now you thought?" snapped the blonde, who nervously shifted from foot to foot, almost ready to throw herself at the white-haired woman's throat. Years of pent up rage bubbled through her veins, making her skin almost burn with living fire. "Forgive my surprise, but I would never judge Bea Hughes for her ability to think!"

The white-haired woman watched her in silent contemplation, answering nothing. Her silence irritated the blonde a hundred times more than anything she could say. The atmosphere between them was becoming strained to the limit and all it took was one wrong move, one misspoken word, and the catastrophe was certain. The rain intensifying around them wasn't helping either.

"I don't understand what happened. We were talking calmly like we used to, and suddenly you run out and do one of your tantrums..."

"Ha! Like we used to...," she interrupted her again in mid-sentence, mimicking her and almost bursting into maniacal laughter, but her mood had nothing to do with amusement. "I guess you've already forgotten that you left me for five whole years and now you're back and you expect us to talk like old friends?", her voice wavered between anger and tears. "Someone paid you to come back here? That's where you got the money from, right? You were hired to get revenge on me..."

"What," the astonishment in Bea's voice was almost palpable as she stared at the blonde shaking with anger with her eyes wide open. It was Poppy's nature to explode and make arguments for any reason, but what she was saying now sounded irrational, even for her. "I'm the CEO of my uncle's company, that's where I get my money from," she corrected.

"What," this time it was Poppy's turn to be surprised and her face even softened. "What do you mean, what about your dreams of becoming a music star?"

Bea scratched the back of her neck nervously and lifted her face up, letting the raindrops wash her face of any negativity that had accumulated. When she felt ready enough not to explode, she looked back at the blonde and sighed, her face looking more tired than before. "Those were childhood daydreams. A music career would never make me the kind of money an accounting firm would."

"Childish daydreams? You spent your first earned money on a guitar and an amplifier, how can you call that childish daydreams...", the concern in Poppy's voice was sincere, probably one of the more sincere feelings she had felt in recent times.

"I needed real options and real money," Bea replied dryly, ignoring any emotion from the blonde, who was looking at her with a worried expression on her face.

"What for? Why did you need the money?" she asked, not yet knowing that she would light the fuse from the bomb with that question.

"What for? Is that really what you're asking?", Bea's so far calm expression bent into unnatural anger, her eyes misting over from the emotions gripping her. "And isn't that what you wanted? A girl who can fulfill your every whim, with a stable life, a job and a mountain of money?", a realization and simultaneous remorse appeared on Poppy's face, but it did not satisfy Bea. "Yes Poppy, I heard your conversation with Veronica the other night when you thought I was sleeping."

Poppy blinked several times, unable to formulate a response. She replayed that conversation in her mind, all the words she'd said then that she hadn't really meant, but under the onslaught of people around her, her perception was distorted. "It's not like that..."

Bea raised a hand to silence any explanation from the blonde. She didn't want to hear it. "No Pops" she shook her head, her hair wet from the downpour sticking to her face, masking any tears falling. "It at least gave me the motivation to change my life, for that I will be grateful."

Ch.5 Irreplaceable

"You understand that she still had the nerve to be mad at me? Like it's my fault for changing for her," Bea had been lamenting to Zoey for about an hour, who, like any patient friend, silently let her rant.

"And she's telling me that she changed for me... After all, I didn't ask her to!", Poppy nervously walked around the living room almost already trampling a path in the tiles. A worried Veronica and Chloe watched her in silence, letting her get all the negative emotions out.

"I know she didn't ask me to do this, but I wanted to finally be worthy of her, you know? I wanted to give her the future she deserved, and she wouldn't have it with me if I continued to follow my dreams," the white-haired girl slumped helplessly on the couch next to her friend, dipping her face into her hands. "After all, to a gorgeous girl like Poppy, it wouldn't be enough that I...”

"After all, she knew full well that she suited me the way she was, why did she take away the one person I..."

"Love."

"I wish I could be mad at her...", Bea muttered lifting her face and looking straight at Zoey who seemed to be in deep thought.

"But I can't," groaned Poppy leaning against Veronica's shoulder, who reflexively began to stroke the blonde's back, which slowly began to twitch from her silent crying. Chloe moved to the other side and snuggled into Poppy to give her her full support, knowing that no words could heal these wounds.

Zoey nodded and patted the white-haired girl's shoulder giving her silent support. Bea relaxed from her friend's touch. "Haven't you thought maybe it's about time..."

"To move on and find someone new? It's been five years," Veronica felt Poppy's whole body tense up and prepared for a burst of anger, from the blonde, but the blonde only raised her head and furrowed her eyebrows."

"No. She's irreplaceable."

Ch.6 Where Something Ends, Something Begins

It had been a week since the memorable meeting.

Since then, Poppy hadn't seen or heard from Bea who had sunk like a stone into water. Such disappearing without a word wasn't her style, but the blonde wasn't sure what her style was anymore. The days she lived as she always did, and the nights she sat curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and reminisced about old times while talking to herself.

"Thank you for coming Poppy."

Poppy slipped her sunglasses off her nose and looked over at Zoey who was warming her hands with a mug of hot coffee. "Believe it, I was surprised myself that I agreed," she lied. She agreed without hesitation because she knew it was about Bea, and inside she was dying to know what was happening to her.

Zoey giggled at the blonde's nudge and shook her head. Although her words were biting, there wasn't an ounce of incivility in them. Such a habit between them. "You can probably guess why I met with you."

"Is it about Bea?", Poppy tried to sound as formal as possible and not show that she was thinking about it day in and day out, almost unable to focus on anything else. How pathetic it would be if someone found out she couldn't control her feelings.

The black-haired woman sighed grimly and nodded her head. For a moment she began to search through her backpack and pulled out a strange little bundle. Poppy tilted her head and looked at the colorful paper that only her Bea could choose. She smiled at the surge of positive memories.

"The day she left, she told me to give this to her. I honestly thought about it for a long time, against all odds I wouldn't want you to suffer any more than you already have," Zoey's gaze drifted somewhere behind Poppy's back as she couldn't stand the pain in the blonde's eyes that grew with every word she said. "But I think this will help both you and her close a chapter in your life" Zoey pulled money out of her pocket and placed it next to the empty cup. Without a word, she placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, who stared at the package as if mesmerized. She squeezed it tightly and walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

With trembling hands, she reached for the bundle and prepared to open it. Somewhere deep inside she knew exactly what she would find, but she hoped that it was only an illusion and that it would not really contain what she had in mind. Unfortunately, hope is the mother of fools and when she opened the package, a velvet box appeared before her eyes.

She opened it with tears in her eyes.

"Maybe in another life and another time we would have had a chance, but I will love you always."

#my mood is weird #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #veronica x chloe #queen b #choices #playchoices #choicesfic

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comphersjost · 4 years

Text

All For You | 5 [Finale] ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

firstly, i want to say thank you all so fucking much for the love, the support, the countless asks, comments, and reblogs on this series. this is an epilogue of sorts - mostly focusing on matty’s POV - as well as a tribute to the first part that started this all. enjoy my loves <3

4 times Matty knew he loved you, and the one time he knew you loved him.

word count: 6.8k+

warnings: some smut, not super descriptive, angst, elias and noah being little shits, lots of elaboration on events previously mention in the series :)

part one

part two

part three

part four

masterlist

The game was brutal. You curled up on your couch to watch it, your body tense the entire time. You lost track of how many times Matt fought someone on the ice, whether he went after someone on behalf of one of his teammates, or when he was being targeted. To say the least...Matt got his ass handed to him.

The game ends with the Rangers shutting out the Flames. You keep the TV on, anxious to see if Matt was going to be interviewed. He wasn’t, but you caught glimpses of him behind Mark Giordano as he answered questions in that monotone hockey voice. Matt looked like a wreck from what you saw, bruises forming on his face and hair an absolute mess.

You shake your head and turn the TV off, immediately reaching for your phone. You text him without thinking, not realizing what you did until you see ‘delivered’ under the messages.

you: i’m sorry about the game :( you: anything i can do? you: ice cream or something?

You panic when the read receipt pops up almost immediately. You'd only been in Calgary for about a month, and only hung out with him a couple of times - and that was with constant reassurance from Brady that you weren't a burden on him. Either way, there's no way he would trust you that much right?

Three short consecutive buzzes sounded, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

matthew: can i come over? matthew: if that's cool with you matthew: no worries if not ik you said you haven't totally unpacked

You can't help the smile that tugs at your lips at the last text. Maybe he really didn't see you as just his brother’s best friend. You quickly type a response back.

you: of course you can !! you: and fyi i did unpack you: sorta

matthew: am i supposed to believe that???? matthew: be there in like. 20 matthew: i still gotta shower lol

you: then shower it up stink monster you: see u sooooon you: any snack/drink requests?

It takes a few minutes to get a response from him, and you assumed that he showered during that time. Over the past month Matt almost never lagged when it came to responding to texts, except for practices and games.

Your phone buzzes again, but this time it’s a Snapchat notification from Matt. You click on it and the app switches. Tapping on the red square reveals Matt, seemingly fresh out of the shower with his thumb up. That caption reads “fastest shower time on the team? yessir”, another caption underneath reading “no longer a stink monster”.

You laugh and respond to a photo of the top half of your face, typing out “yeah yeah answer my text stinky”. He opens the snap immediately, and 30 seconds later you get a text from him.

matthew: yo tbh if you have popcorn 👀👀

you: ur in luck i do!! the super buttery kind tho :/

matthew: my fave matthew: don't tell anyone on the team tho

You pause for a moment. You hadn't even met anyone on the team, only heard them in the background of the few phone calls you'd had with Matthew. Did he want you to meet them?

Shaking the thought out of your head, you react to the message with the laugh reaction and assure him you won't. He texts you to let you know he was on his way and suddenly you panic again. Matt hadn't been in your apartment since your first week in Calgary. Even then it wasn't really your apartment, it was just an empty place filled with boxes. He had helped you build all the furniture that had arrived, but since then you’d only hung out with him at restaurants or bars or coffee shops.

You don't know why the idea of him in your space makes anxiety wash over you, and you have to remind yourself that Matt is someone you grew up with. He's your best friend’s brother and someone you've known your whole life, but for some reason you still felt like you had something to prove to him.

There's a heavy knock on your door before you can pull yourself out of your head enough to make sure everything in your apartment is clean and tidy, and you almost want to scream but you figure it would be weirder than having a slightly messy living room.

When you open the door for Matt, the first thing you notice are the two forming bruises on his face. The second thing you notice is how tired he looks, his smile genuine but still not reaching his eyes.

“Hey,” you breathe out, “Come in.” He bumps your shoulder softly in a silent greeting as he slips past you into your apartment.

“The place looks great, Y/N/N,” Matt says softly, admiring the decorations and photos you’d placed around to make it feel more like home. You're glad he isn't facing you and can't see the surprised look on your face at hearing him call you by your nickname.

“Thanks Matty,” you say, your anxiety fading when he turns to smile at you again. “I’ll get the popcorn, you can pick a movie or a show or something, if you want.” You chuckle softly as he all but collapses on your couch, stretching out as you make your way towards the kitchen.

Matt’s eyes follow you as you disappear through the doorway, the sound of the microwave starting just a few moments later. If he wasn't so tired and bruised he would pay more attention to the nervousness bubbling up inside of him. It had been a long time since he really hung out with you like this - the last time he can remember was probably his senior year of high school. Brady had been gone on a class trip for one of the few classes you hadn't taken together, and Taryn was still too young for you to relate to her. So for a full week you showed up at their door and flopped on his bed, or vice versa, claiming that you were bored and were there to stay. He remembers pretending to be annoyed, but inside he was practically screaming, overthinking every little thing that he said to you.

His teammates would chirp him if they knew - Matt had known that for sure. What, a hotshot hockey playing senior getting butterflies over a sophomore girl? Oh, he would be torn apart in the locker room. That's why he didn't kiss you then. It was stupid, really, now that he thought back on it, but he was 17 then, and his teammates’ opinions were more important to him than taking a chance with his brother’s best friend.

But now you were here. In Calgary. And he was here, in your apartment.

He feels 17 again, your sweet voice floating from the kitchen asking him if he wanted anything to drink. He replies that he only wants water, and decides to take you up on looking through Netflix. He settles for a random episode of Parks and Rec when you come back to the living room, a bowl of popcorn in one hand, and two glasses of water somehow held in the other.

You make a face at him and shove his legs out of the way with your foot, placing the bowl and glasses on the table. You laugh when he groans and moves his legs out of the way so you can sit, before moving them back onto the couch to tangle with your own. Matt reaches for the bowl of popcorn as you snatch a blanket from its spot on the back of the couch and drape it over both of your legs.

“Still cold all the time, Y/N/N?” Matt teases, nudging his foot against your knee as you laugh sharply.

“Haven't changed a bit, Matty,” you throw back immediately. Your heart skips a beat when he laughs, a really, loud, genuine laugh, head thrown back and everything. You can't help but think that it suits him more than the tired smile he wore when he showed up at your door.

“You really haven't,” he says with a grin, eyes finally sliding back to yours. His hair curls over his forehead, but you can't look away from his eyes. The intensity of his stare makes you shiver, and you pretend it’s from the cold, pulling the blanket towards you more and looking away. You ignore his grumble of protest, but he lets you do it anyway.

“You haven't changed either, you know,” you say quietly. He stays silent, only shifting in his spot to get more comfortable.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, your eyes on the TV and his on...well his eyes are on you. He thinks back to all the times he wanted to make a move on you. Countless hours he spent beating himself up for letting the opportunities slip through his fingers because of his stupid pride.

He's not 17 anymore, he could kiss you right now. He could wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, kiss you until you're breathless and absolutely begging for him.

But he doesn't.

Not when you look like this, so comfortable and warm and here. He can't kiss you when you opened your home to him after a tough loss. He can't take advantage of you like that.

So Matt trains his eyes on the TV again, sneaking glances at you here and there as he all but shovels popcorn into his mouth so he doesn't say something stupid. He doesn't realize you've fallen asleep until he sneaks another glance at you, this time looking for just a little longer than a split second.

Your eyes are closed, cheek smushed into the cushion and your chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths. He realizes then how tired you must be, it’s nearly 11:30 and he knows you have to be up early for work. He can't tear his eyes away, can't help but take advantage of being able to stare at you without getting caught.

God, you're so cute like this, he wishes you were in his arms instead of on the other side of the couch. He wants this to last as long as possible, but your head is tilted at an awkward angle, and he doesn't want you to go to work tomorrow in pain.

Instead of taking his time looking over every inch of your adorable sleeping face, he gently untangles his legs from yours, grabbing the empty bowl and cups and heading to the kitchen. Once he's done washing them and placing them on the drying rack, he heads back to you, pausing in the doorway for one more moment to just look at you.

He finally convinces himself that he’s stared enough, it’s getting creepy now, and you need to go to bed. Matt makes his way back to you, squatting down and gently placing a hand on your arm.

“Y/N/N?” he says softly, rubbing softly up and down your arm.

“Hmm?” you hum softly, blinking slowly with blurry eyes.

“You gotta go to bed,” he murmurs, and he can't stop himself from brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “You have work in the morning, c’mon.”

You whine in protest and your eyes flutter shut again. You're too comfortable, too warm to get up now. Matt sighs, resignation setting in. He slowly peels the blanket off of you, folding and draping over the back of the couch like before, before sliding his arms underneath your back and knees and lifting you effortlessly.

You mumble something unintelligible as you bury your face in his chest. Matt says nothing as he finds your bedroom, depositing you on your bed as soft as he can, and tugging the duvet out from under you and then back over you again.

“You can't go home,” you mumble again, louder, grabbing his hand feebly before he can walk away. Matt freezes at the implication, even though he knows the thoughts spiraling in his mind are unlikely in your barely awake state. “S’late Matty, you can't go home.”

“Y-you-you want me to sleep here?” he stutters, and you nod, blissfully unaware of the rampage of emotions in Matt’s head.

“Guest bedroom’s furnished,” you slur, voice thick with exhaustion. “Don't go home. S’late.” With that, you're fast asleep again, and Matt - well -

Fuck, Matt thinks. He's fucked. And he knows it.

II.

Based on the look on Noah’s face, Matt knows he's going to get one hell of a lecture as soon as you're out of earshot. He'd finally taken you to meet his teammates, and he was really starting to regret it. He knows that you're beautiful, he'd just rather not watch his teammates stare shamelessly. He really is glad he told them warned them to keep their hands off though, using the excuse that you were his brother’s best friend and there was no way he would let those hooligans go after you.

But now that you're actually meeting them, Matt knows that they're going to call him on his shit. His team knows him better than that.

His hand is resting against the small of your back as he leads you to a booth towards the back of the bar. He slows down before he gets within earshot of the table, leaning in to ask softly, “You okay?”

You glance up at him with a nervous smile, but nod anyways. “Yeah,” you assure him, “I’m good, I just hope they like me.”

Matt laughs at that, shaking his head at your confused expression. His laugh fades as you raise an eyebrow, looking at him expectantly. “They'll love you,” he finally clarifies, “Promise.”

“Promise?” you say skeptically.

“Promise,” he confirms, and the grin on his face is infectious, you can't help but smile back at him. “C’mon,” he says, pushing you lightly until you reach the table.

“Matty!” exclaims one of the men at the table. A brunette, from what you can see in the dim light, and a face that makes him look 14. At his drunken greeting, the rest of the men and women at the table turn to look at you and Matt, making you shift uncomfortably under their collective gaze.

“Aaand he’s drunk already, this is Brady and I’s friend, Y/N,” Matt introduces you, his hand sliding from your back to squeeze your hand comfortingly. He introduces each of the people at the table - the baby-faced one was named Johnny - before nudging the blonde that looked like a Disney prince until he moved over to make room for the two of you.

“Hi,” you say, smiling shyly around the table. “It’s nice to meet you all, Matt’s told me a lot about you.”

“Hope he wasn't talking shit,” Prince Charming teases with a slight accent, flashing you a bright smile. What was his name? Elias?

“Oh he talks the most shit,” you banter, a sly smile tugging at your lips at Matt’s incredulous protest. “Always going on and on about how annoying you guys are - mmf!” Your teasing is cut short by Matt’s hand covering your mouth. Without thinking you lick the palm of his hand, laughing when he snatches it away again and off of your mouth.

“That's gross,” Matt complains, wiping his hand on his jeans.

“You asked for that,” you shoot back, elbowing him lightly when he rolls his eyes.

“You know, I’m starting to regret this,” he grumbles, fighting the smile playing on his lips, “you’re just as annoying as them.”

“Be nice Chucky!” Noah pipes up. You recognize him from the few times you’d stopped by Matthew’s apartment but had never stayed long enough to actually get to know him.

“Yeah, Chucky,” you taunt, “better be nice to me, I know where you live during the off-season too.” The table erupts into laughter at that, and you accept a fist bump from Elias.

“I like this one, Matthew,” Giordano says, “You better keep bringing her around.”

You flush at the compliment, having heard how highly Matt speaks of his captain.

Matt feels you relax into the booth, the tension in your body since your arrival finally draining at the approval from his team. He leans down slightly to murmur in your ear, “I told you they'd love you.” You smile at his words, tuning back into the conversation that had started up again.

“Matthew,” Elias suddenly says, drawing your attention away from the intense discussion about whether or not hotdogs were considered sandwiches (the group was split almost 50/50, by the way). “Let’s go get more drinks. Noah?”

You scoot out of the booth to let the two of them slip out, heading to the bar with Noah in tow, sliding back in to find yourself seated beside a beautiful blonde girl. She laughs when you say timidly, “I’m sorry, could you all tell me your names again?”

She introduces herself in a thick accent as Annica, Elias’s girlfriend, and the other girls do too, before quickly striking up a conversation. “Do not worry,” she says kindly, “I forgot most names the first time I met too.” You laugh at that, before some of the wives and girlfriends start to ask you about yourself.

“How do you know Matthew?” Brittany, Sean Monohan’s girlfriend, asks curiously.

“I grew up with him,” you explain. “Brady’s my best friend, they live across the street from my family.”

At the same time that you’re getting to know the girls at the table, Elias is slapping Matt upside the head.

“Dude!” Matt groans. “What the fuck?”

Noah rolls his eyes at Matt’s faux-obliviousness, “Dude, that girl is a smokeshow.” Noah manages to dodge Matt’s fist aimed at his arm, smirking at the defensiveness. “Just your friend huh?” he chirps, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Matt groans again, “Yes, just a friend, the hands-off rule still applies.”

Elias snorts, unconvinced, leaning back against the bar to observe you interacting with the team and WAGs. “She’s funny, and fits in well,” Elias remarks. “And Noah is right, she is a smokeshow.”

“I know,” Matt grumbles. “Don't you have a girlfriend?”

Elias throws his head back and laughs. “Annica pointed out when you walked in. Anyway, she's yours, clearly.”

“Dude.”

Matt was getting really sick of the chirping coming from his teammates. To be fair - they were right, but he couldn't let them know that. But as he follows Elias’s gaze to see you talking animatedly to the girls at the table - all of their attention trained on you - he can't help the soft smile on his lips. He's right, you do fit in well.

He wonders how you'd look wearing a jacket with his name on the back.

Noah’s voice snaps him out of his daydream. “I'm just saying man, you already look like you're halfway in love with her, so get on that.”

“No,” Matt snaps finally, before his expression drops slightly. “Besides, our parents are fully convinced that she and Brady are gonna end up getting married or whatever.”

Noah and Elias both wince at that, giving him sympathetic glances. Matt rolls his eyes, snatching half the round of drinks the bartender had deposited in front of them, and heading back to the booth, knowing that Elias and Noah were hot on his heels. Thankfully, he makes it before they can say anything else that might inspire Matt to do something stupid.

But as he slides back in beside you, watching you interact with his teammates - his family away from family - he can't help but think about how wrong Noah was.

More than halfway, Noah, way more than halfway.

III.

Matt’s lifelong habit of running away from his feelings just didn't seem to apply to you. No matter how much his feelings grew, how much they scared him, he still stayed. He still hung out with you, and texted you constantly. He still brought you to every team event under the guise of not wanting some random girl with him, and that he'd much rather have you there.

When you told him about your feelings for his brother, it stung. So Matt did the only thing he could - not run away, he could never run from you. He crushed the hurt away, pushed his feelings down down down until they were just a whisper at the back of his mind.

But then he made a mistake. He made an enormous, colossal, devastating mistake.

He kissed you.

He was wine-drunk, and so were you. Maybe that's why you let him. Maybe that's why you kissed him back. It was easier to believe that it was a drunken decision than let himself have any hope.

You'd been at his apartment for dinner, something that had become a weekly occurrence now. Matt couldn't deny that he liked this, having you to himself without anyone Brady to steal your attention.

You'd ordered in today, boxes of Thai takeout littering the counter. Matthew hadn't bothered to clean up after you were both done eating, insisting that he’d take care of it later, and for now you could just hang out. So that's what you did.

The two of you sprawled on his couch, forgoing wine classes to just pass the bottle back and forth until both of you were giggling. Your cheeks felt warm from the wine, and you felt good. You felt relaxed and at home.

You're thrown into another fit of giggles when Matt reminds you of the time Brady had fallen asleep after a game when you had all gone out for ice cream. He had ended up face planting directly into a scoop of his barely-eaten vanilla ice cream in the car on the way home, immediately snapping awake at the cold dessert hitting him directly in the face.

Through your laughter, you say “What about the time you were trying to impress - hic - that girl - what was her name, Brenna? - and then you -” you cut yourself off, laughing uncontrollably at the unimpressed look on Matt’s face. He knew exactly what you were talking about, and it was easily one of the more embarrassing moments of his life. When you can catch your breath again you finish “- and you were staring so you slipped and fell on the ice!”

Matt groans as you keep laughing, before a devious idea comes to mind. You know that look on his face all too well, your eyes widening as your laughter dies down.

“Matt-” you start as he starts reaching for you, turning into a shriek when his hands reach their destination. “Matt, no!”

His fingers finding your sides and tickling you mercilessly.

“Matt!” you gasp, squirming to escape the torture. “I’m sorryyyyy! I won't mention it again, I promise!”

He pauses for a moment, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Promise?” he asks, his hands not leaving your sides even when you nod. He hums when you promise, distracted by your closeness. The wine made his mind fuzzy, and the feelings he's been harboring for so long come bubbling to the surface.

Matt is terrified he's going to say something he’ll regret - especially with the knowledge of your feelings for Brady - so he does the only thing that will shut him up. He does what he was too cowardly to do when he was 17.

He kisses you.

A surprised moan escapes your throat, but then you sigh, leaning into him and leaning into the kiss. His hold tightens around you as he tilts his head to slot your lips together. Your hands come up to run through his messy curls, making a noise of appreciation at how soft his hair is.

Matt can't help himself, he leans back to his side of the couch, tugging you with him and into his lap. One hand leaves your waist to cup your jaw as you straddle him, his teeth tugging at your lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth. The hand on your waist comes down to your ass, a strangled moan breaking the kiss as his hand pushes you impossibly closer to Matt.

Matt reconnects your lips immediately, addicted to the feeling of finally kissing you after all these years. Through the haze in his brain he thinks that this is probably a bad idea, but fuck does he love it.

You whine needily and break the kiss, rocking your hips against Matt and making him gasp.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his hips jerking upwards to grind into you. Your eyes flutter open for a moment, shuddering at the dark look in Matt’s eyes. You think of saying something - anything - but Matt’s hand curls around the back of your head and pulls you back in to meet his lips.

You tug at his hair as he kisses you, letting him move your hips into an undulating motion against his own. Matt's mouth drags away from yours, your whine turning into a soft moan as when he kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You shiver when you feel his teeth graze the column of your throat.

Matt kisses every inch of exposed skin, unable to help himself from sucking a deep purple mark into your skin just above your collarbone.

“Matty,” you whimper, grinding down harder against the growing tent in his sweatpants. Matt decides that your whimpers and moans are his favorite sound, and vows then that he’s going to do everything in his power to pull those noises from your body. He can't get enough of you, the way your hands roam over his shoulders and through his hair and the desperate way your grinding against him. You say his name again, this time a soft sigh as he keeps kissing at your skin, the hand on your ass sliding up and underneath your thin v-neck.

“Baby,” he grunts against your skin, running his nose up along your neck. You whimper at the pet name, and Matt gets impossible harder under you. “Baby,” he whispers again, pulling back to look you in the eye. “Tell me if you want this, angel.”

You nod frantically, leaning in to press your mouth on his again.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “I want this. I want you.”

Matt moans at the words, wishing that it were true in every context. Instead he wraps his hands under your thighs and stands, making his way blind towards his bedroom. He tosses you on his bed unceremoniously, kicking the door shut behind him.

You look up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, reaching for him again, aching for his touch. Matt crawls over your body and brushes the hair out of your face as he hovers above you.

“Matt,” you whine needily, wrapping a hand around his neck to pull him down to kiss you again.

As Matt strips you of your clothes as well as his own, he lets himself pretend this is real. He fucks you with brutal, merciless thrust of his hips, and pretends like this isn't going to be a one-time thing. He lets himself feel while you cry out for him and arch your back as you cum. He calls you baby and acts like this isn't a drunken mistake you’re probably going to regret in the morning.

And when you're both spent, his arms curled around you as you give him a dopey, sleepy smile - looking like a real life angel, he thinks - Matt lets himself pretend, for just a moment, that you love him too.

IV.

He hates this.

Matt hates this.

He hates the feeling of your body shaking against him, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Brady had left that morning for Ottawa after Autumn had reached out to him, asking to give their relationship another shot. And Matt hates him for it right now.

He hates the sound of your crying, the tears spilling onto his shirt. He hates that you feel like this, heartbroken and miserable.

Matt hates how responsible he feels for this. He was so sure that Brady reciprocated your feelings, telling you over and over again that he was positive his brother loved you too. In hindsight, he might have been projecting, but to him, it was impossible not to fall in love with you.

The thing he hates the most, though, is how selfish he is. How he can't help but think of how good it feels to hold you again.

Another sob rips itself from your throat and Matt’s arms tighten around you, pulling you so that you were flush against his chest. He buries his face in your hair, whispering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over as you break down in his arms.

He barely registers the feeling of you shaking your head against his shoulder.

“Not your fault,” you mumble through your cries, shaking your head more vigorously. “It-it’s not - it’s my fault - I thought -” You cut yourself off and bury your head in his shoulder as your bawling continues.

“It's not your fault,” he insists as one hand comes up to cup the back of your head, running through your hair in soft strokes. “It’s not, it’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong.”

Matt holds you like that for what feels like eternity, your sniffles and cries coming slower and slower until they stop. He still holds you tight, tracing patterns over your skin and running his hands through your hair soothingly. He whispers gentle words in your ear, comforting you the best he can.

Eventually you pull back slightly too look up at him, making Matt mourn the loss of feeling every inch of you pressed up against him. You look tired, sleepy, but most of all, you look sad - and it kills him inside.

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely, making Matt’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What for, angel?” The nickname doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you can't help the warm feeling that worms its way through your heartbreak.

“Everything,” you shrug, not wanting to really say the truth. Matt takes it for an answer, even though you both know it’s really not, and smiles gently, brushing hair out of your eyes like he's done so many times. “M’sorry about your shirt,” you mumble, and Matt laughs at that, his head thrown back.

“I've got plenty of shirts,” he teases, thumb sliding back and forth over your jaw comfortingly. As his laughter fades, his gaze becomes locked on yours. You look like you're in deep thought, at war with yourself, and he barely refrains from asking you what you're thinking about.

“Okay?” Matt asks gently, eyes softening when your eyes focus on him again. You open your mouth as if to say something, before closing it again and nodding slowly. “Y/N/N?”

Before he can really ask what's going on, you're throwing your arms around his neck, your lips colliding with his. Matt can't help but melt into the kiss, cupping your cheek as your lips move together. He hadn't felt this in so long.

Oh, he missed this. He missed the feeling of your mouth on his. Missed kissing you until you were breathless. Missed the way you fit perfectly in his arms.

He moans gently, nearly delirious with his need for you.

A pang of guilt shoots through him, making Matt pull away even as you whine and chase his lips. You look up with wide eyes and a slight pout, before you seem to realize what just happened.

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry,” you gasp, scrambling to escape his embrace. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - that was fucked up - I’m sorry -”

Matt’s grip only tightens, grabbing your chin to make you face him. “Hey - hey,” he says sharply, making you stop struggling and look at him. “It’s okay, I promise, we just - you're not in the right - we can't -”

“I know,” you cut him off, “I know, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” he assures you again, before asking you softly, “Do you want to go home?”

You weren't sure which home he meant - your family’s house across the street or Calgary - but either way you shake your head frantically, clinging to him tighter at the idea of being alone with your broken heart right now.

“Okay,” he soothes gently, “That's okay, I’m gonna go shower, okay? You wanna change?” You glance down at your clothes - sweatpants and a t-shirt - and shake your head again.

“This is fine,” you say timidly, your voice small and sad and widen the hole in Matt’s heart.

“Okay,” he murmurs, setting you gently on his mattress and tugging the duvet over you. “I won't be long, I promise.” You nod sleepily, your eyes already fluttering shut as you acknowledge him, as he backs away slowly.

Matt has to clasp a hand over his mouth in the shower, muffling the noises out of his mouth as he weeps.

He almost wants to laugh at the irony of it all. You love Brady. You love him and your heart is breaking because of it. And so is his. And even as Matt puts on clean pajamas and crawls back into his bed beside your sleeping figure, he still feels like he might start to cry again.

But then you mumble his name, your voice thick with sleep as you reach for him. Your hands feel small against his chest as you fist the material of his shirt and tug him towards you, sighing contently when his arms slide around your waist.

You fit so fucking perfectly, Matt thinks, with your body tucked into his like this. His eyes linger on your face for a few moments, taking in the peaceful look on your sleeping face after hours of anguish and emotional turmoil. As he begins to drift off, his last thought before he falls into slumber, is how he's never been more at ease, more happy, more in love, than when he's with you.

Matt has never been in so much pain in his entire life. The moment his eyes fluttered open, still blurry from sleep, he snapped them shut again. It was too bright. Why is everything so bright? He only knows one person that keeps the blinds open when they sleep and that was - Matt’s blood runs cold.

“I like it when the sun wakes me up,” you’d said when he asked you. “It feels less like an alarm clock and more of a gentle reminder, you know?”

He didn't know, he really really didn't, especially with the pounding in his head. But he has to know for sure, so slowly but surely, he opens one eye and then the other. Matt’s heart rises to his throat when he realizes where he is.

Part of him thinks he might die on the spot. But the other part - the selfish fucking part of him - whispers that waking up in your bedroom is what he's been dreaming of for months.

But then it hits him. The pain.

Not the pounding headache, no - this was worse. This was so much fucking worse. It was worse than the day in his parents’ basement when you walked away from him all those months ago. Worse than the night he came home and found you naked in Brady’s bed. This pain felt worse than anything he'd ever felt before.

It’s excruciating. He feels like someone had punched a hole in his chest and torn out his heart. The ache in his chest surpasses the throbbing in his head.

Matt feels like he's going to cry, the desire to curl up into a ball and disappear overwhelming him and he wants to cry.

How did he even get here?

Matt doesn't remember most of last night, little snippets here and there. He remembers your Instagram post, the cutest fucking picture he's ever seen of you holding and ice cream cone and laughing, a smudge of the frozen treat dotted on your nose. He remembers grabbing a bottle the moment he got home. He remembers Noah and Elias, remembers seeing their lips moving, but doesn't remember what they said.

Before he can stop it, there are tears slipping down his cheeks. Matt is so fucking sick of crying. He's tired of feeling like this.

And he hates that he knows that it's his own damn fault.

The idea of seeing you again - of you seeing him like this - makes his skin crawl. He promised to leave you alone after the game, and he’s ashamed that all it took was an Instagram post and a little too much liquor for him to come crawling back.

The selfish part of him pipes up again. You can't help it. You love her. She's yours.

Being here, in your apartment, your bedroom, makes Matt dizzy. He needs to leave. Now.

He’s in such a rush to leave, roughly wiping at the tears on his face, he almost doesn't notice the pair of pills on the nightstand, a glass of water set on a coaster beside them. He hesitates for a moment, but decides that he doesn't want to feel like a trainwreck for the rest of the day, and downs the pills with a gulp of water.

There's clattering in the kitchen, preventing him from a stealthy escape. Matt is shocked when you don't let him leave, head spinning with exhaustion and confusion and really - just your presence. He can't stop staring at you. Even like this, in a hoodie and leggings, Matt thinks you're the most beautiful fucking thing he's ever seen.

This is too domestic. He shouldn't be here. This is too intimate. Too much.

This isn't for you. Brady is the one who should be here. Matt flinches when the thought slithers into his head, but before he can make it out the door, you're turning from the stove and practically yelling at him to sit. You sound like his mom, he thinks, but sits anyways.

When you ask him about Autumn, Matt thinks he might die. Right then and there, he wishes the floor would swallow him whole. But instead of that happening, his stupid fucking mouth moves to vomit out the words before his brain catches up. “I was sick of seeing him hurt you, I watched him hurt you for so long, Y/N, I held you while you cried and I - I never want to be the one to make you feel like that.”

This was the most you'd spoken in months, and even through the pain of seeing you again, Matt can't help but be overcome with relief. You didn't hate him. Matt feels dazed through the rest of the conversation, just barely focusing as a result of your presence addling his brain even as you snap at him to shut up. Until - until -

“..Brady and I are not together…he’s not it for me.”

Matt freezes, the words rattling inside his skull.

Not it for me not it for me not it for me

Matt shoves half a piece of French toast in his mouth, barely chewing it before swallowing and repeating your words back to him. You laugh at his bewilderment, your fingers curling around his own as you speak.

He's going to kill Brady, he decides as he finishes off the rest of his toast, immediately. His little brother is a menace and it’s finally going to catch up to him.

But he needs to hear you say it first. He needs it.

Then Matt is tugging you to stand up, and your hands are wrapping around his neck as he gets closer.

And you say it.

“I love you too Matty.”

And then he's kissing you.

Finally - finally - he's kissing you and you love him.

You love him.

Matt feels like he wants to cry again, this time for a completely different reason. The pain he'd felt this morning starts to drain away as you press yourself closer to him, hand slipping up to card through his curls. He pulls back to look at you for a moment, grin so wide he thinks his face might break. He leans in again, giving you one, two, three, four more kisses. With every kiss, Matt feels a piece of his heart returning to its place.

“Say it again,” he pleads, eyes fluttering closed as you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, Matthew, more than anything, I love you.”

And later, when you're giggling against his mouth on the couch as his fingers graze your ticklish sides and you're whispering the three words over and over and over again, he knows it's true.

He's it for you, you're it for him.

Matt loves you.

But more importantly, you love him.

FIN (for real this time)

#ta daaa #matthew tkachuk #brady tkachuk #all for you series #calgary flames #ottawa senators #hockey #nhl #imagine #smut #angst #my writing #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 3 years

Note

hi! i really like your posts, and I’ve seen you’re taking “emergency” requests, and I’m just feeling so lonely and socially awkard and uncomfortable lately, so I was wondering if you could make Kuroo and Akaashi hcs of how would they react to see their girl / s/o alone and away from people, it would really make me happy 🥺♥︎ thank you in advance! -ghosty anon👻

hello ghosty anon ＼(〇_ｏ)／

I'm sorry to hear you’re feeling that way sweetheart, my messages and ask box are always open if you need someone to talk with <3

also ik it took me a bit to post this, school has been pretty hectic and my brain hasn't been in the mood to write lately so ty for being patient

also i’m aware this definitely isn't the best + I apologize for that, but I hope it brings you comfort none the less :)

•Kuroo and Akaashi Comforting a Distant S/O•

warnings: none

genre: comfort + fluff

characters: kuroo + akaashi

•Kuroo•

kuroo had never known you to be a super outgoing person

you weren’t one to intentionally go our of your way to make new friends or strike up a conversation with a stranger

but the way you had been acting lately was definitely a stretch

you were practically avoiding any social contact with anyone, choosing to detach yourself from the world around you

you had even shied away from kuroo as well

he felt like he shouldn't push you to open up to him but he couldn't just sit there as you distanced yourself from anyone and everyone

so, as the two of you were walking home he decided now would be a good time to discuss the situation at hand,

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Have you been feeling alright lately?”

your steps faltered a little bit as you walked, you didn’t think he would notice your recent change in behavior

if you were being honest you thought you were the only one who had seen the shift in your world

“Yep, perfectly fine, why?”

kuroo slowed down a bit and caught your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours

he swung your arms back and fourth as the two of you walked, hoping to make this conversation a little more comfortable for you by doing so,

“You’ve just seemed really distant lately, ya know? Just wanna make sure everything is alright in that pretty little head of yours.”

you smiled softly at his dorky compliment before letting out a soft sigh

in all honesty, you had been avoid discussing this whole thing with kuroo

the emotions that had been plaguing you lately seemed trivial in your eyes and you had worried he'd also take it as such

none the less, he had strewn the topic out in the open so you couldn't exactly ignore him now,

“I guess I've just been pretty uncomfortable with socializing lately. And I hate it because I want to be with other people but it just makes me so uneasy,”

you let out another exaggerated breath, hating how stupid you sounded

“I don't know, this probably sounds dumb, sorry babe.”

kuroo stopped in his tracks, your connected limbs bringing you to a halt as well

he tugged at your arm and pulled you into a hug

“It’s not dumb Y/N, your feelings will never be dumb to me. I may not understand what or why you’re feeling this way but I still care.”

you wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug as you snuggled your face into his chest

“Thank you Tetsuro.”

he squeezed you tightly in response before pulling away and ruffling your hair

“You know, the team was going to go to lev’s house and hang out if you wanted to come. Maybe you can ease into socializing that way? Or you could just hang with kenma and play games? That doesn't really require talking. Or you don't have to and we can just stay home and hang out.”

you giggled at his scrambled attempts to cheer you up

you had grown pretty close to the team ever since you and kuroo had begun dating to testing the waters by hanging out with them didn’t seem half bad.

“Alright, it wouldn't hurt to try.”

“That’s the spirit! And just so you know, we can go home anytime if you start to feel uncomfortable, okay?”

“Okay.”

and that’s how you ended up sitting on lev’s couch, playing animal crossing with kenma as you snuggled up with kuroo

you slowly but surely felt your walls crumble as you munched on snacks and lightly chit chatted with the boys around you

it was the most comfortable and sociable you had felt in a while and you had your boyfriend to thank for helping you break out of your shell

•Akaashi•

akaashi didnt really understand why you had turned down so many outings lately

sure you weren't the most outgoing person but you usually loved to spend time with friends

recently though, there always seemed to be a perfectly constructed excuse of why you couldn't attend that followed each invitation you received

akaashi usually allowed you to open up about things you were going through on your own time, figuring you would let him in when you were ready

this time however, he had a feeling he should interfere

one morning he had overheard your friends inviting you to your favorite restaurant

that particular establishment was one of the only ones in the area that served your favorite dish so you never turned down an opportunity to dine there

akaashi was happy that you would finally be able to spend some time out of the house and with your friends, it had been quite a while since that had occurred

but his joy died down once he heard you refuse their offer and tell them you’d try again another day

why were you saying no?

as far as he knew, there was nothing stopping you from going

so, despite his usual approach to these types of situations, he pulled you aside later that day to have a conversation

“Y/N, is there something bothering you?”

“What do you mean Keiji?”

“Lately it seems like you’ve been avoiding going out with your friends.”

you sigh in defeat, of course he would notice

akaashi was a very observant person, always noticing the smallest changes in detail

so it wasn't a surprise that he would detect how antisocial you had become lately

you had been planning to sit down and talk with him eventually, but the feeling that you were being overdramatic always seemed to cloud your thoughts

overtime you felt as though it would just be a bother to even bring up the subject, so you never did

now, standing before him, you had no other choice but to come clean,

“I just haven’t really felt the most comfortable with the thought of actually socializing with people, even friends. I wish I could but I just cant bring myself to. Sorry, I know that sounds silly.”

akaashi brought his hand up to your cheek and gave you a soft smile,

“Your emotions are valid Y/N, there’s no need to apologize.”

you leaned into his touch and gave him a small smile of your own

“Thank you.”

he brushed his thumb across your cheek in response before speaking up again

“If you feel comfortable with it, you could come over later and we can do something to get your mind off things.”

you nodded in agreement, finding the idea of your boyfriend’s company much more appealing than anyone else’s at the moment

and that evening you found yourself knocking on the door of akaashi’s home, waiting anxiously on his front steps

as soon as the door opened you were greeted with a familiar smell

“Is that what I think it is?”

he grinned at your question and stepped to the side, motioning for you to enter

there on the kitchen counter were two plates of your favorite food

the same food that you missed out on that night due to your lack of motivation to be with others

“Keiji you didn't have to do all this.”

“I wanted to my love, now here, bring that to the coffee table.”

he handed you one of the plates as he turned to grab some drinks from the refrigerator

as akaashi watched you snuggle up on the couch he felt love flow throughout his body

cooking a meal for you didn't bother him at all

if it meant he could bring you peace of mind, It was all worth it

the rest of the night you two watched movies in each others embrace, enjoying the peace you both brought one another

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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keyofjetwolf · 3 years

Text

What was your first?

So a horse walks into a rehab and says “ouch”. And not a lot. Then a great deal. While also saying nothing. It’s BoJack, in rehab, and going about as well as you might think!

“The Stopped Show” may not have been much about BoJack, but “A Horse Walks Into A Rehab” makes up for it by being 99.9% BoJack, setting aside the brief appearance of the other characters to set their stages for when we get back to them. Diane’s in a shitty motel, Todd’s in a seedy alleyway, Princess Caroline has her porcupine baby, and Mr. Peanutbutter continues to deliver cheer while everything around him burns AND drowns. I’ve now touched base with them about as much as the season premier, and we’ll get busy ignoring them.

As I said, BoJack is the star today, and we continue his quest for ... what, exactly?

Trying to pin it down, that “what is BoJack looking for” question, it’s a lot harder to answer than I expected, which marks another instance of me fucking myself, GOOD JOB ME.

I initially said “punishment”, but that isn’t true, or a least, is too easy. BoJack wants accountability for his actions -- which is a very different thing than punishment -- but he wants it in a way that also absolves him from having to do any work to rise above it. So you’d think he’d love this, the constant claim in rehab that he’s powerless. It seems like the answer to everything, a blanket pass to excuse his behaviour because he’s powerless. Why doesn’t he? I’m not sure I’m entirely clicking with the heart of that, so come with me as I have a poke at it.

For one, I doubt very much rehab would begin and end with “you’re powerless, oh well”. Addiction is some nasty business, but in and of itself, it’s a symptom, not the problem. That in mind, we swing back then to BoJack having to put in the work, only now it’s with the removal of his favourite coping mechanisms.

I think what he was hoping to get out of rehab was more along the lines of “Vodka is a naughty irresistible siren who topples even the most noble of men, but if you cross your eyes and click your heels, you’ll be free from her spell forevermore.” And yeah, no.

I think we get some of that in how, for a while, rehab seems to suit BoJack.

To the point I very specifically said to Doc as I was watching this, “Oh shit, did BoJack just become even MORE insufferable?” He’s okay so long as he has the comfort of the scripts and the regimented plant therapy and the same hike every day. When he starts to get fucked is when he has push further, when he has to work harder, when the treatment demands MORE.

“I notice you tend to deflect when I ask you about the source of your addiction,” his therapist says, causing BoJack to immediately deflect, first with a joke and then, when that doesn’t work, attacking the entire system. Getting to the root of his problem is the last thing BoJack wants, to the point where the entire episode ITSELF is one giant deflection. I made a joke in passing up there about our passing moments with each of the other main characters, but that’s actually it, that’s the heart of this episode.

Each of these are efforts by the episode to deflect what’s going on NOW, tempting us with something shiny and interesting, if only we’d take the bait. I ONLY JUST MADE THIS CONNECTION WELL FUCKING DONE SHOW

And of course, there’s Jameson’s story, which is part deflection, part contrast. She’s intended to appear at first like someone BoJack can relate to, a Sara Lynn Pt. 2 that he wants to save and in whom he sees so much of himself. In equal parts, he’s the adult trying to guide her and the force enabling her, and I’d have to do a bit more thinking on whether I thought his success with her was about him walking both sides of that line, or Jameson just, at the end of the day, being lucky. Either way, it’s also not really about her, so much as BoJack talking a really good game at her, while giving her all the tools to make the worst choices.

Which is, I think, where the episode finally settles. BoJack’s choices have been his own, but they aren’t made in isolation. Throughout this episode, we get moments, presented in reverse chronological order, that could on their own answer that key question: When was the first time you drank?

To settle your nerves to get through a scene everyone was counting on you to nail?

To fit in with the cool kids at high school?

To win your father’s approval?

What’s brilliant to me about each of these flashbacks is that the further into the past we go, the more willing we are to absolve BoJack. In the first, he’s a professional actor required to kiss an attractive and consenting fellow professional in the course of a performance. Nervous? Makes total sense. Getting plastered to do it? LESS SENSE.

The high school one is the most damning, which I adore. BoJack’s the butt of some light bullying by the jock, and I don’t mean to completely dismiss that it sucks, but the remainder of events before he starts in on the beers shows he’s hardly an absolute social pariah. And even if he were, once he begins to drink, BoJack doesn’t just become the life of the party, he becomes cruel (demonstrating quite well that jokes aren’t his only tool of deflection). Worse, that he KNOWS he’s doing it, but cares more about his positive attention than their negative. Still, BoJack’s a kid and peer pressure is a hell of a thing. This isn’t a good look, but it’s also not damning, if he’d come to learn from it.

Now we jump the line to, I’d guess, ten or eleven year old BoJack, who walks in on his father having an affair with his secretary, but too young to recognize what he’s seen. Butterscotch can’t take the risk though, so he effortlessly manipulates little BoJack into getting drunk and passing out, then uses BoJack’s shame about it to keep him quiet on the whole evening. UNDER THE GUISE OF BEING HIS FRIEND AND DOING HIM A FAVOUR BY THE WAY. No question, Butterscotch is a son of a bitch, and the only thing BoJack did wrong here was crave his parent’s love.

Even with the high school one being a little more grey, they’re all pretty cut and dry. Remember that we’re following the thread of “When was the first time you drank?” and to land on the answer “When my unrepentantly dickish father lied to me to save his own ass” puts a pretty solid punctuation mark on the whole affair. Addiction may not be at fault, but Butterscotch Horseman is. Case closed, we can go home.

BUT WAIT WHAT’S THIS

Right at the end, when you think we’re done, there’s one more flashback. A party of some sort, possibly New Year’s. The house sounds empty, there’s only the looping of the record player, stuck repeating the same five seconds again and again and again. Butterscotch and Beatrice are passed out drunk, judging from the empty bottles around them. Was it a good party? A bad one? She has her back to him and they’re about as far apart as they could get while still remaining in the room, but also, nothing’s broken? It’s impossible to know.

What we do know is that BoJack, aged about where we saw him in the “Free Churro” flashback so maybe seven or so? Very young, at any rate, and he’s alone. There doesn’t appear to be anything in the room for a child, so it’s probably fair to say he wasn’t included in the festivities. Did he have something to do instead? His own party maybe? Friends to play with, someone to watch him? Did he even get dinner? From what we’ve seen, “no” is a much more likely answer to any or all of these.

AND NOW THE FIRST TO PUNCH YOU IN THE HEART

Tiny BoJack knocks back several gulps of vodka (like a fucking pro, may I add), then crawls onto the couch next to his unconscious mother, pretending for just a few minutes that she’s cuddling him until he, too, will fall into a drunken slumber.

RIGHT SO WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO WITH THIS JESUS WEPT

Had you told me “Just wait, seven year old flashback BoJack is going to muddy the hell out of this” I wouldn’t have ... okay, well, I know the show, so I probably would’ve believed you, but I would’ve been preemptively grumpy.

This isn’t his fault! But it is! This isn’t his parent’s fault, but it super super is! Nobody MADE BoJack drink the vodka, as the scene goes to great lengths to show. There is nobody to tell him to do anything at all. Beatrice is three fucking sheets to the wind, she has no idea he’s there and he could have pretend cuddled all night AND stayed sober. Did baby BoJack, like adult BoJack, take the drink to calm his nerves for an expression of physical intimacy? Would baby BoJack have even known that was an option? Remember, this is framed as the answer to the question “When was the first time you drank?” Not “took a drink”, but “you DRANK”, the phrasing of which I think is important. It’s all about the root of the problem. What I get out of that question is then is “the first time you drank to numb yourself”.

Baby BoJack is looking at this disaster, this mess that is his every day no matter how many party hats and streamers you stick on it, and he wants anything else at all. So he turns to the easiest thing he knows will take it away the fastest. The situation isn’t his fault. The opportunity isn’t his fault. But the response IS, in a way that EVEN AS I SAY IT, makes me feel shitty.

CONGRATS BOJACK HORSEMAN FOR MAKING ME SEE A LITERAL CHILD SLAMMING BACK VODKA STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE AND MAKING ME GO “okay, but”.

SEASON SIX SHOULD BE A WALK IN THE PARK

#jet wolf watches bojack #it’s no wonder the answers for bojack are so hard to find #when even the goddamn QUESTION requires a dissertation and three hundred caveats #oh i didn't have a place for it really in this essay #but i love the use of the space/planetarium overlay when bojack is really wrestling with his urges

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colormeyondublue · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4: First Date

Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 5 Here

The next morning came and you went about your business as usual, making sure everything was in top shape in your office. If your work was coming in slow without much needing done, you often just checked to see if anyone needed help with anything, played games, or jammed out to whatever music was on. This time, you found yourself getting lost in your thoughts. It had been a long time since you were home. You found yourself not thinking much about your family or old friends recently. But somehow, it didn’t bother you. You felt like you were home. You couldn’t tell if you should feel guilty for feeling that way…but it was the truth. Although you definitely missed your family at times, this whole journey seemed to change who you were as a person.

Meanwhile, Yondu was pacing in his cabin. He asked you on a date, and he had no idea what to do. He hasn’t really dated, or courted, in years. Besides that, he’s never taken a terran out before! He decided to call someone for help. The last thing he wanted to do was get anyone else involved, but Tullk was someone he could trust. He picked up his communicator and pressed a few buttons. The comm beeped and he heard Tullk’s voice. “Yeah, Cap’n? What canneh dae fer ya?” “Uhh, this might sound strange, but could ya come to ma quarters? I need your help with somethin’.” He could hear Tullk hesitate. But then he said, “Ya, sure boss. I’ll be up in just a bit.” The comm clicked off, and Yondu walked to his desk chair and sat down with a huff. He was asking for help. This was unbelievable. “I can’t believe this girl has gotten into my head already.” He muttered to himself. A little while later, there was a loud knock at his door. “Get in here Tullk!” Tullk walked in the room and closed the door behind him. “What did ya need, sir?” He asked nonchalantly. “Well, this ain't easy to ask but, ya got any datin’ advice?” “Datin’ advice? Ya got a lass yer interested in?” “Well, yeah! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have asked!” “Well…its been quite a while since I took a nice lass out. She’s nice is she?” Tulk asked. “Of course she’s nice! She’s damn near perfect. She’s sweet and funny…and smart, and I just wanna show her a good time.” Tullk was surprised to hear his Captain use words like that. He was typically crass, rude, and a straight forward kind of guy. But everyone deserves to be loved, or at least have a chance at love, right? “So you wanna know what to do? On this date? Well…I only know about terran dates. I’m not sure what other races might do fer that kinda’ thing.” The Captain glared at him. “She IS terran ya idiot. That’s why I asked for yer help!” “Yer goin out with a terran lass? But, how? Where did ya meet a -… OH!” A devious grin appeared on Tullk’s face at the realization. “Choose yer next words carefully.” Yondu growled. Tullk let out a boisterous laugh. “You’re takin y/n out on a date? I can’t believe it!” Yondu began to grow an odd mixture of embarrassed and angry. “Yeah! I’m takin y/n out. Ya got a problem with that?!” “No, no, sir. I just honestly didn’t think she’d go for any of us. I’m not laughin’ atcha. I’m just…surprised – is all.” Tullk said with a shrug. “Well, believe it. So shut up and tell me what I need to do fer this to go right.” “Well, it’s pretty simple really. What I always keep in mind, as a Terran man, is to just be maself. Don’t try to be something you’re not, because them Terran lasses will see right through it. Trust me. Terran girls like to go out and just have a nice time. Food, drink, and good company. Don’t be lookin’ or flirtin’ with other women, or she’ll walk right outta there. Think ya can handle that?” He asked with one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, yeah, I figured that much. Is that all?” “That’s about all the advice I have. Just relax and have a nice time.” Tullk stands upright from where he was leaning on the wall by the door. “Need anything else Cap’n? He asks. “Nah, just don’t say a word to the crew!”

"Ah never do!" Tullk shouted back toward the door as he walked away.

___ The ship begins to near it’s destination, Johpar. Yondu is dressed in relaxed black leather pants, with his usual maroon long coat. The handkerchief tucked in his collar is a dark black, to match his matte black boots. The boots are adorned with a narrow gold metal strip at the edge of his toe. The gold matches his belt buckle and ravager badge. He made sure to trim and shape his beard nicely before heading down to the docking bay to meet you. As he comes in, he looks around to see if you had arrived yet. To his surprise, you weren’t there. “She’s probably just gettin’ dolled up is all.” He mutters to himself. The thought of you getting all dressed up for him makes his heart do a little backflip. “The hell?” He whispers as he lifts a hand to his chest. “That’s new.” Just as the words left his lips, he sees you. You cautiously walk into the docking bay. You were wearing a casual tan and black patterned dress, quarter sleeves, that tapers at your waist, and comes down mid thigh. You’re also wearing knee high lace up high heel boots with some black laced stockings just barely visible between the bottom of your dress and the tops of your boots. Your hair is done in a half updo. You’re holding a black leather jacket over your shoulder and glance around the room. The last thing you want is a bunch of grimy ravagers sneering at you. To your relief, there was no one around – but Yondu. You lock eyes with him and your step falters. Wow, as if I wasn’t nervous before. You try to keep your composure as you approach him. He looks you up and down and visibly swallows. “Ya look real nice.” He said. “Thank you.” You answered with a slight blush. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.” “Well thanks, sweetheart. If yer ready, we’ll head out.” and jabs a thumb toward the bay door. The two of you walk together off the ship and quietly chit chat until you reach the rows of shops and bars. You both walk into the bar and notice it isn’t particularly busy. Yondu offers to get you a drink. “What’ll ya have darlin’”? You think about it for a moment, and realize you have no idea. Last time you ordered a drink was back on Earth. Sure, there was always beer and whiskey on the ship, but that was getting old. You decide to play it safe with a glass of wine. “Any kind of sweet wine. I’m not picky.” You smile up at him and he gives you a polite nod. “Go have a seat there in that booth, and I’ll meet you over there.”

“Okay!” You respond with a sweet smile.

He watches you make your way to the booth, noting the way your hips move as you walk. His mind goes blank for a few seconds, your legs and ass are hypnotizing. You turn to seat yourself in the booth and notice that he’s staring. You blush and smile at him. With a small wave of your hand, he snaps out his trance, and heads to the bar. His cheeks are flushed.

Upon getting drinks for the two of you, Yondu plops down in the booth across the table from you. He slides your wine to you, and you take it from him with a gentle, “Thank you.”

“So,” Yondu begins. “You been on my ship for a couple a month’s now, how’s Ravager life treatin’ ya? Better than you thought I hope?”

You take a sip of your wine and shrug timidly, “It’s definitely better than where I came from. But, my story is pretty much the same as any terran or human that ends up way out here.” “Traffickers?” Yondu says with what looks like a little sadness in his eyes. “Yeah, traffickers.” “How old were ya?” He asks. “Honestly, it wasn’t too long ago. Few years maybe? I was on a camping trip with my family. We were way out in the Ozarks when they took me. We were camped in the mountains, a fairly thick wooded place surrounded by rivers and glens. My family used to camp there every summer and I always got up with the sun when we would camp. I’ll never forget it…I got up that morning, put on a tank top, shorts, and my hiking boots and went down to the river just to breathe in the morning. I thought I was completely alone until I heard some gravel on the bank crunch behind me. I turned and expected to see a deer or another hiker or something. But I saw a strange figure. Next thing I know, everything is black. I woke up on a strange ship hearing voices that didn’t make sense. Eventually I put two and two together.” “I’m sorry.” Is all Yondu could say. He understood how horrible that might have been. He recalls his years aboard slave ships. “It’s okay. I think I was on that ship for about 6 months before they sold me to someone else. The ones who gave me a translator implant had green skin and pointed ears. Skrull maybe? I don’t know. Then they stopped on Krylor one day. I saw it as a window of opportunity, so I took it. The Skrull were a bit more flexible or lenient than the ones who took me, so I had a chance to run. I hid for 3 days before coming across that pawn shop. Worked there as cheap labor for a few years. Then I met you.” You smile at the memory of first seeing Yondu at your old job. “And then you met me.” Yondu returned your smile. Although he hasn’t mentioned it, he thinks you have the most adorable smile. The way it makes your eyes sparkle and come to life is something he’s never seen in any other woman. He continued, “Well, I’m sure glad yer here…despite what ya been through.” “Honestly, me too. I mean sure, I miss my family. I hate to think that they’re heartbroken over me. I’m sure they are. Especially my mom and sister. I don’t even want to imagine how they felt when I disappeared.” Your face turned solemn. “What about yer daddy?” Yondy asked quietly. "Oh, he died. He passed away about a year before I was taken. It makes me sick to think to think about how much my family has lost. Dad…then me. Problem is, they know what happened to dad. He got cancer...but I just vanished.” You dropped your gaze to the table. The date started to take a really depressing turn. Yondu thought quickly to change the subject. He wanted you to have a good time, after all. Yondu reached out across the table and gently placed a couple fingers under your chin. He lifts your gaze to meet his and said, “You ain’t alone. Most of us on this crew have a similar story. We been stolen, sold, lost people, seen death…we got each other though. You’re in good company.” His gentle and genuine smile spreads to your face and you simply nod without another word. “You hungry? We could get somethin’ here or we could swing by another place.” “Honestly, unless you are….I’m really not that hungry. But I would like to take a walk and look around this place a little bit?” “Sure thing darlin’. Anything you want.” As you get up and leave the bar, Yondu leaves a stack of units at the table. You walk out of the bar with your Captain in toe behind you. “Besides, I can’t really eat much when I’m nervous anyway.” Nervous? Yondu thought. Why is she nervous? She ain’t scared of me is she? “Nervous?” He asked warily. “Well, not like a bad nervous. Like a good nervous.” You assure him. “There such a thing as ‘good nervous’”? He laughs. “Well, yeah.” You said shyly. “There’s good nervous and bad nervous. Bad nervous is self-explanatory. But good nervous is…well…” You trailed off as you walked through the brightly lit streets with Yondu. There were colorful shops everywhere. Stores were selling various items like clothing, food, jewelry and gifts from various planets. “Oh, I got it! Okay, there is a creature on my planet called a butterfly. They’re hard to describe unless I could draw you a picture of one, but they have wings. They’re very gentle and delicate. Good nervous feels like having butterflies in your stomach. It’s like a fluttery feeling. It’s a good thing!” You smile at him. Yondu just smiles to himself and looks down toward his boots while shaking his head. This girl is somethin’ else. The rest of your evening is spent wandering around the shops looking at interesting items and relishing in sights you’ve never seen before. Eventually, you end up in a part of the district that is pretty quiet. You find a bench near a fountain and sit together looking out at Krylor. “It’s so beautiful. I’ve never been on a moon before…this really is amazing. I never thought all this could be on a moon. Our moon back home is small and desolate. My people have visited it a few times, but there’s nothing up there.” “Ya know, yer really pretty when yer face lights up like that. I been a lotta places and met a lotta different people, and nobody cares about stuff like you do. I hafta say, I really like that about ya.” He says quietly. You smile, and blush lightly at his comment. You both continue talking about nothing in particular for a while. Yondu loves listening to you talk about your home, or anything you find interesting. You’re so bright and happy when you speak. You carry a light with you wherever you go. A light that, he now realizes, he would follow anywhere. As you arrive back to the ship later that night, Yondu walks you back to your cabin with your jacket slung over his shoulder. As you tell him goodnight and thank him for a wonderful evening, he says he had a great time too. He takes your hand and leans in to gently kiss the top of it. “Goodnight, y/n.” He hands you your jacket, smiles at you one last time, and casually swaggers toward his quarters.

You’ve kept your composure until now. You scurry into your cabin, slam the door shut behind you and lean up against it – breathing heavily. “Ohh my gosh. Ohh my gosh okay. OOHkay. Wow…that just happened.” You can’t stop smiling and get ready for bed. Finally, you throw yourself into your bed with a long sigh. You fall asleep almost immediately, only to find your Captain in your dreams. Yondu enters his quarters and just stands there, staring off into space. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, his breathing is heavy. After what feels like ages, he finally begins to undress himself for bed. He can’t get you off his mind. Your smile, that dress, your voice, your eyes…all flicker through his mind. “So, this is love. Huh. Ain’t so bad.” He smiles and snuggles down into his furs and blankets and drifts into a peaceful sleep.

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captainkappa · 3 years

Text

Fanfic:: Hunter and Prey

To be a Mandalorian pirate is to be both hunter and prey. This, Din understood after being taken into their care as a child.

Now he is hunting a Mandalorian artifact to deliver his charge to the aquatic sorcerers in order to teach him how to handle his magic. His quest brings him to a sandy stretch of shore, Mos Pelgo.

Link to AO3

For Day 4 of @dincobbweek aka AU day!

The prophecy as foretold; I have a hyperfixation, therefore I must write a pirate AU. And oh my god, I loved writing this fic so so much.

Huge shout out to @staranon95 for betaing and @ayantiel for providing the needed inspiration to get this thing going!

-=-=-=-

Mayfeld took in a deep breath, letting the salty air fill his lungs. There was a lot riding on today, his reputation, Ran’s reputation, but with the Empire’s finest knelt at his feet, all of their note-worthy possessions, he thought he was doing pretty well.

“No one makes any dumb decisions and you all will get to live,” he called out, voice carrying over the wind so even the poor bastards at the end would be able to hear. “We’re just here for what’s ours and then we’ll leave you be. You’ll never have seen us.”

Xi’an was getting her brother from the prisoners down below and Burg was raiding the captain’s office. Sure, the objective was to get Xi’an’s brother before he made it to the Empire’s colonies, but this was an Imperial vessel. The three of them would have to be stupid not to rob the Imps blind when they had the opportunity. Plus, their informant assured them that not only was this a prisoner’s vessel, it was a transport vessel, moving a map that led to a whole lot of Mandalorian gold.

It was the perfect plan; do a job for Ran, undermine Ran, get filthy rich, and live the rest of their days on an island in the Outer Isles.

And everything was going great, when Burg burst through the captain’s doors, startling everyone on board. Everyone jumped, bar Mayfeld. Burg cut an intimidating figure, a mountain of a man, horns poking through holes he made in his hat so he had to crouch to get into most places. His sudden presence didn’t startle Migs. What was a surprise was the concern on his face.

“Migs! The captain is dead!”

He rolled his eyes. “And? Do you want me to pay you back for the ammo it took to do that?”

“No, he was already dead! And the map’s gone too!”

His blood ran cold. He gave up the act and ran into the room, grabbing onto his hat so it wouldn’t fly away. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. He couldn’t tell if there had been a scuffle or it had been Burg who had torn up the room. Drawers were half open, hanging out, papers scattered, a blood-spatter, maybe, but there was so little Migs couldn’t tell if it was recent.

And in the center of it all, the captain, dead in his chair. His body was cool, so Burg wasn’t bluffing in saying someone had shot him before. There had been a lot of commotion when they had first boarded the ship, could the thief have entered then?

“You swear he was like this when you got in?”

Burg nodded.

“And he wasn’t holding a pistol?”

Burg nodded again and the evidence confirmed it. There was only one pistol in the room, halfway across the floor. That didn’t happen when someone tried to off themself for fear of the pirates coming on board.

Migs pushed the body to the floor, getting on his knees to root through the drawers, hoping to find the map, to be able to smack Burg upside the head, but there was nothing. He ripped them out of the desk, holding them upside down and shaking them, but still nothing. Just useless documentation with Imperial seals splayed everywhere.

He slammed the top of the desk as he stood up.

“Did you check everywhere?! Every possible drawer, false drawer, any of that bullshit?”

“Yeah! But it ain’t here!”

Migs pulled off his hat, balling up the rim in fist before throwing it back on.

Ran would tell him not to get greedy. There was an unknown element at play now, so focus on getting Qin out and run. With the group back to what it was before Mando sold them out, they could rob big ships again, but who the fuck cared about that. If Ran knew about the map, he would’ve said to hell with Qin, focus on the pay-out.

Migs stormed out of the quarters and back onto the deck. It was too sunny to see, but that didn’t stop his furious walk back to the line of Imperials on the ship. He grabbed the one in the fanciest looking clothing, who he could only assume was the quartermaster or second mate, and hauled him to his feet by his collar.

The man made a choking sound and face-to-face, looked at Migs with terror.

“Where the fuck is it?”

“Wh-Wh-Wh-?”

“The fucking map! Lost Mandalorian treasure? I need it, and if you don’t, Burg here will make sure you meet those fucking dead ass Mandalorians that hid it in the first place.”

Something must’ve gotten the man brave, because he said, “I thought Mandalorians were extinct, like you pirates are going to be.”

And as if signing his death wish, he spat on the floorboards near his feet.

Well, Migs wanted a nice clean run, but he had a reputation to uphold.

He threw the man back down to the floor and before he could get his arms out from under him, Migs pulled out his flintlock pistol and aimed it at him.

He was a second away from painting the floor with this asshole, when Xi’an ran out from under the deck, her brother trailing behind.

“Captain! It’s Mando!”

That made Migs whip his head up. “Mando? Here?”

She nodded. “We saw him climbing down. Port side, now!”

The four of them raced to the railing, watching as the small craft sped away, faster than any ship could hope to move. She flew familiar colors, the flag of someone who had sold Qin out in the first place.

Migs thought today couldn’t get any worse.

Then the flare went out, bright and brilliant even in the daytime sky. An Imperial flare, that would’ve had to have come from the captain’s quarters, that they wouldn’t have been able to spot in the chaos of the room, that was absolutely going to call every Imperial ship in a hundred miles radius.

Fuck.

Fucker didn’t even have the decency to flip them off as he sailed away.

-=-

Din keeps his eyes low to the ground, brim of his hat pulled low over his head, scarf pulled round his face as he weaves in the crowd. It’s Nevarro, so he knows he blends in with the rest of the criminals that inhabit the port town, but he finds himself more cautious these days.

Especially with the small cargo at his side.

It’s only when he takes a corner into a dark alley, down a set of stairs just off the tavern, into the gloom, does he look at the bag at his side.

As they passed a torch on the wall, the Child looked up at him and beamed, his pointy teeth just coming in, ears unfurling as he lifted the flap.

“You doing ok?”

The child babbled in reply.

“Good, we’ll be there soon.”

For what was basically an underground network for a bunch of criminals, it was surprisingly clean. There were puddles of brackish water that Din stepped around to avoid, along with passing others, but it wasn’t as piss-soaked as Nevarro was up top.

Hiding a whole community under a criminal network didn’t seem like the smartest idea at first, but the thing about criminals is they can either be paid off or disappeared with little problem. As he stepped around a pair of running children, he hoped there would be one day Mandalorians wouldn’t have to hide. He had no idea how that would happen, but no one had ever died on hope.

They finally arrived at their destination, a door on the far side of the hallway. He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the familiar voice say, “Enter.”

She was already sitting at a table, a bottle of rum in front of her, a candle burning, doing its best to light up the space. Her hat was beside her, feathers drooping so they touched the brim. He made a mental note to pick up more on his next supply run.

He took off his hat as he shut the door behind him, keeping his bandana firmly in place.

“How was your trip?” the Quartermaster asked coolly, picking up the bottle to pour him a drink. It had been years since she had manned a ship, but the title still carries in their community.

He pulled out both the kid and treasure from the bag, setting the kid down on the ground to run around the space before sitting across from her.

“Successful.”

He spread out the map in front of the Quartermaster. He heard those fools talking about Mandalorian gold, and it wasn’t entirely true. It was a map to a compass that would reveal what the holder most desired, which for some might be Mandalorian pirate gold or power or love.

Or the location of the aquatic sorcerers the child needed.

The child wasn’t fully human. He needed to spend a lot of time in water in order to spend time on land, which meant a lot of time spent swimming alongside the Razor Crest. He could also shoot water up out of the ocean, a gift Din was well acquainted with, it being one of the child’s favorite games to play.

Since he had failed to fully deliver the child to the Empire, he had had privateers and other pirates on their tail for months. This map was their last hope to make sure the child got back with his people and then…

And then Din would go back to what he did best; providing for a people now scattered by his actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the Quartermaster’s chair scraping back. She stood up, only to bow over again, her back parallel to the table. She moved her scarf to the side so her lips could ghost over the map as she spoke words of power into the paper.

She stood back up fully as the ink on the map shifted and moved. Waves rolled in place, sea serpents dipped in and out of the surface, all the while the path moved like an eel, slippery and changing, until everything at last was at rest and the ink seeped back into the page.

All three bowed their heads over the map. The starting point of the path was now the tiny cluster of islands of Nevarro and the end point was…

“Tatooine?” he asked out loud. “They’re basically land locked. What would a Mandalorian be doing there?”

Tatooine was a coastal stretch of land, surrounded by jagged rocks and ship-wrecks on one side and impassable mountains on the other, with desert in the valley.

She raised her head, scarf now back in place. “I suspect you’ll find out when you go there.”

He nodded and the child cooed. Din looked over at the child grabbing at the map, hands scratching at the lines like he could pick them back up.

“Come on, little one. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

-=-

Din sailed into Mos Pelgo, following the instructions Peli had given him.

“You have to arrive at low tide, that’s the only way you’ll see all the shit you have to get through. If you haven’t decided to turn tail and leave, you have to keep to the south. If you go north, you’re dead. Last I heard, there’s a pile of sticks they call a dock if you keep going south.”

The dock was a simple thing, as she’d said. Rotten wood, with just one post tall enough to hold the rope to the ship. Din was half tempted to jump straight into the water and swim to shore rather than test the strength of the wood, but resisted the urge with the Child in his bag.

He could see the town in the distance and set off on the beach, letting the Child out to stomp around on the beach.

The town was small, a couple of shacks on stilts for the stormy season. Few people were out, and those that were openly stared at the two of them. Din paid them no mind, one goal in his head.

He walked into the cantina, knowing if there ever was a way to learn about a town, it was going to their cantina first.

And not half a minute of talking with the Weequay bartender, the “Captain” walked in. The man wasn’t a Mandalorian, his face was bare, showing off white hair, sun-freckled pale skin, and a well-trimmed beard. His coat was sturdy, but patched to high heaven, with a bright red scarf around his neck. He wore the compass on his belt like he was flaunting it. It made Din’s blood boil. If Din were a younger man, he would’ve shot him right there for it.

But he tried talking. The compass should be in the hands of a Mandalorian. The Captain swore up and down he had gotten it fairly and therefore it should be his.

“I’ve given you an easy out already. Take it off,” Din said, “Or I will.”

“We gonna do this in front of the kid?”

“He’s seen worse.”

The Captain stood, fingers already itching for the flintlock on his hip, no doubt preloaded like Din’s were. They were interrupted by cries from outside. The Captain holds up a hand before smoothly exiting the cantina. Din follows, but stops in the doorframe to take it all in.

There were several broken fishing boats being led through the rocky shores, dragged onto the sands, people shouting, people carrying others. The Captain was in the middle of it all, shouting orders, trying to bring organization to the chaos.

In the distance, was the unmistakable view of a large tentacle slipping beneath the waves.

Din didn’t want to get in the way of this organized chaos, but then a twi’lek with scarred lekku was shoving bandages into his arms and gesturing over to a house across the way. Din wasn’t going to say no to that.

The house was quieter than outside, only pained whimpers and soft, hushed voices. A collection of wooden splinters already piled beside the bed as the doctor continued to take tweezers to one of the people who came in. Din placed the bandages by their side before stepping back, nearly colliding with the Captain.

He looked at the scene with a pensive expression. Immediately, Din could see that his care for his people went further than words. There was corded energy in those shoulders, anger that wanted to be released at the creature that did this to his people.

The Captain ushered him out of the room.

As they walked back to the cantina, the Captain said, “How about this; you help me with the kraken, I give you back your compass.”

“Deal.”

-=-

The Captain led him past the edge of town to the cliff’s edge. On the journey he told his name was Cobb Vanth; Din held off on his own introduction.

“None of us are much for traveling,” Cobb said, “but the kraken planted itself right where we normally fish. Even when I send people to fish in a different spot, the damn thing follows after. We’ll be starved out sooner rather than later.”

They crested over the hill and the expanse of ocean fell before them. The kraken was visible from the cliffs, a dark mark under the waters, swimming languidly around the coast.

Din did a mental inventory of what he had on the Razor Crest; a handful of spears, a harpoon, some rope. Cobb had shown him the town’s stores before they left. It wasn’t going to be enough.

He stepped back from the ledge, back where Cobb is. “Is there a Tusken encampment nearby?”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “The Tuskens? But they’re-”

“They know the coast and water better than anyone. We can’t kill it with just the two of us.”

“If they know the area then won’t they want to… I don’t know, not kill it?”

“Then, we’ll just have to ask.”

“Ask? You don’t ask a Tusken anything.”

He could, in fact, ask a Tusken for things. Din was thankful for the cloth in front of his face, masking most of his pride as he watched Cobb’s jaw drop as he asked the Tuskens for their help. It turned out, they did want help in defeating the kraken. Its sudden appearance had also affected their fishing.

They had to travel further to where the kraken had made his home. Din stayed in the back with Cobb, where he seemed more comfortable.

Cobb also apparently liked to talk when he’s nervous.

“So, you spend your days on the ocean? All the time?”

“Mhm. Do you spend all your days on land?”

“Mostly. I used to be on a ship, but not like you. I was a galley slave on an Imperial ship, but before then I had dreams of being as free as you, traveling the waters on a boat with a crew of my own.” His face fell. “Haven’t thought about that dream… for a while.”

To have something that should have meant freedom be taken away from you, Din couldn’t imagine.

“But you escaped?”

“Kriff, yes. Raised a mutiny, sunk those fuckers to the bottom of the sea. I found the compass in the captain’s drawers and it pointed us here. Few more people joined, some left, but it’s as home as we can get.”

Din could only nod. He found himself surprised with the thought that he was glad that Cobb got the compass. He had no idea what the Empire was doing with a Mandalorian artifact, but it was definitely put to better use finding people a home.

They made camp up in the dunes. Din had to waste a bullet, firing into the air to disrupt the startings of a fight between Cobb and the Tuskens. Planning was slightly easier after that.

He took off his coat, bundling it up into a nest for the child to sit in. He rolled up his sleeves to free up his arms as he continued translating. He noticed Cobb looking at the tattoos that traveled up his arms. He doesn’t comment on it.

-=-

Small boats littered the coastline the next day. The plan was for people from both the Tusken band and Mos Pelgo would distract the kraken long enough for a boat of explosives to be set up and ignited close enough to kill it but not the people.

It doesn’t go great.

There were enough boats in the water to pick up people who capsized in the wake of the monster’s waves, the thing lashing out as folks took pot shots with pistols and arrows. They managed to set the boat laden with explosives off in its direction, but when the time came to ignite, the explosion happened, but it just managed to scratch the beast.

Din reached for the harpoons he brought as backup. He and Cobb try firing at the kraken, but they skim off its skin.

The Tuskens were still firing their weapons at the creature. Mos Pelgans took turns firing guns and reloading in turn. All it did was keep the creature at bay, which wouldn’t last long at all. He needed to think of something to kill the creature or everyone here would die.

He furtively scanned around the deck for something, anything. His gaze landed on the extra explosives they had kept on hand. The monster’s skin was too thick for the explosions to take but elsewhere…

Din doesn’t think, he just moves. He grabbed as many sticks of dynamite as he could, stuffing them in the pockets of his coat. There was a coil of rope tied off to the railing, which he took and wrapped around his waist. Even after years of living on ships, his hands shook as he tried to tie it. Suddenly, Cobb was in front of him, taking the rope from his hands and tying it tight around his midsection.

He pulled it hard, once, twice, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

“What are you gonna do?” Cobb asked.

“I’m not sure,” Din said, pulling the rope tighter around his waist.

“Then what should I do?”

Din looked at him, really looked at this man who was willing to do so much for his community in light of so much hardship in his own life. He looked back at the dark shape in the water racing for their boats

He took off his hat and tossed it at Cobb. “Take care of the Child.”

And before Cobb could do anything beyond catch the hat, Din leaped off the side of the ship. He couldn’t tell if Cobb shouted anything after him as the kraken burst from the water. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he fell straight into the kraken’s maw.

-=-

It was nothing but darkness inside the beast. Even with the scarf over his nose, the scent of salt water and death was everywhere. He dug himself in the mouth of the beast, boots scraping against bony protuberances in the things throat. He emptied his pockets as fast as he could while holding on for dear life as the monster bucked and screamed.

He hoped the kraken was out of range of the boat.

When he was left with one explosive left, he fished around in his pockets for his matchbook. He struck the match and lit the explosive before chucking it down with all the others like it.

He turned and clawed at the kraken’s beak, heart pounding in his chest. If he doesn’t get out of here before the explosion goes off-

Suddenly, a roaring filled his ears and a mass of hot air flung him out of the monster. His scarf twists around his head and he can’t see anything as he flails. He landed hard in the water and then it was silent as the dark water pulled him down.

He wasn’t sure how long he drifted. The shock of cold water and the heaviness of his coat made movement impossible.

He didn’t regret asking Cobb to take care of the child, he’d be in good hands.

Something wrapped around his waist and pulled. Din tried to resist, not sure if he was being dragged toward air or to his death, but his arms were useless, heavy and leaden. He had no strength and so he let it happen.

And then they broke through the surface of the water, a cool wind icing his skin instantly. He took a shuddering breath and nearly choked on water and his sopping wet scarf. Hands came up and pulled the scarf off his face. He coughed, chest shuddering with each intake of breath. He realized he’s being held, arms around his waist, and it isn’t until he can take a full breath did he finally bother to wipe salt water from his eyes and look at who was holding him.

It was Cobb. His hat and coat were off, red shirt darkened to maroon with all the water. He was searching his face for… something.

Din took a breath, resisting the urge to cough again. “I thought I said- you need to take care of the kid!”

“I am!” Cobb said, holding his head up to avoid a passing wave. “By making sure his daddy lives!”

Cobb maneuvers his arms so he’s gripping a floating piece of rowboat. It’s thankfully big enough that when Din leans his whole weight on it, he doesn’t sink back into the ocean.

“Everyone okay?”

Cobb gave him a look that Din thinks means he’s stupid. “Yes, thanks to you, partner.”

They only have to tread water for a couple of minutes before a rowboat headed by the twi’lek Issa-Or arrives. Cobb makes sure Din is pulled aboard before climbing in himself.

-=-

They stayed the night. Din isn’t in any position to argue with Cobb’s hospitality. He didn’t think he’d be able to turn the wheel on the Razor Crest let alone sail it out of harbor.

Cobb opened his house to them. It was a small abode, raised off the ground like the others. Its small size made it even more obvious the telescope and sextant were on display on the only table in the main room.

Din wanted to pass out then and there, but Cobb firmly set him in one of the wooden chairs before disappearing behind the one door in the house. He returned with a roll of bandages and water. He thought it was to drink, until Cobb started peeling back the wet layers of Din’s clothes to reveal burns and scratches he hadn’t even felt. Cobb dips a rag into the freshwater, rinsing out the salt and detritus from the wounds.

He worked in silence, both too exhausted from the day to say much. They could hear the sounds of the party outside, Tusken and Mos Pelgan alike celebrating the death of the beast.

A drunken group walked past and the two of them can hear the butchered shanty they sing. They glanced to the window then to each other, sharing hidden smiles.

All patched up, Cobb gave him the bed and set something up for the child. Din knew he should be aware of his host, should know where his host himself is sleeping the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with exhaustion tugging him into the bed.

Voices from the other room kept him up, cracking one eye open to focus on the now familiar drawl.

“You know, in the past few days, whenever I looked at the compass for a sign of how to kill the kraken, it always pointed out to sea. I didn’t know what that meant, if I had to go sailing for a kraken expert or find a sunken treasure that would kill the kraken. I don’t know, I was getting desperate. But now… I’m thinking it might’ve been pointing to your dad.”

He heard the child’s burbles of delight and finally, finally, he slid into unconsciousness.

-=-

Din woke up to the sun shining in his eyes, light reflecting off the compass placed on the pillow that wasn’t there last night. Any lingering drowsiness left him when he realized what it is.

The Mandalorian compass.

He grabbed it and opened it up, thinking about Grogu and the teacher he needed. The arrow spun around, until stopping, hovering at a point out back toward the ocean.

A heading. He had a heading.

He fell back into the bed, just staring at the compass. It was embedded in a box made of dark wood, carvings all around the edges, Mando’a script, if he had to guess. It’s incomprehensible, chipped to the point of being illegible.

Something in the bed crinkled as he shifted. He turned and searched for the source and founda scrap of paper. It took a moment for him to parse, but it was just Cobb letting him know he had business to attend to and he would be back when Din left.

Right... they had to leave this town to continue their quest.

He reminded himself of that as he went out to find the child. The house sounded suspiciously quiet for all the mischief the child got into.

-=-

They got their affairs in order quicker than expected. Some people had spent the night alongside the Tuskens preparing the kraken meat to distribute to the rest of the town – and Din, apparently.

It seemed like the whole town had come out to see them off. They apparently had held off giving their thanks until they knew he was conscious. Din looked over the grateful townspeople’s heads to see Issa talking intently with Cobb. When Cobb glanced over his way, he ducked his head back down.

Normally he would sneak out of this kind of attention, but the kid was eating it up, beaming like he was the one who took down the beast, so Din went down the line, nodding respectfully at every given comment.

By the time he got to the end of the line, he was already ready to take a nap, but he raised a hand to bid them all good-bye and turned to walk out of town.

“Mando!”

Din turned around to see Cobb running after him, heel kicking up sand.

He stops in front of him. “Do you- do you need help on your quest?”

“Are you offering? Thought you had a town to look after.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, the kraken was our biggest threat, and with the peace brokered with the Tuskens, there’s not much for me here.”

Din tried to tamp down his excitement, not believing what he was hearing. “You still have your sea legs?”

“Long as you don’t lock me up below deck, I should get them just fine.”

“I’d never,” he said quickly.

Cobb smiled. “Well then, permission to come aboard?”

Din hoped Cobb could tell he was smiling behind the bandana. “Granted.”

-=-

As they sailed out of port, Din kept glancing at Cobb, who was fidgeting up a storm. He kept tapping his fingers against the railing, glancing out at the disappearing coastline.

Finally, after even the Child was tapping on his pant leg to point out Cobb’s unease for him, he hatched a plan. He affixed the wheel so it wouldn’t turn on its own. Then he went about setting the sails and ropes for the same task, keeping them on course while Din took care of Cobb.

“We can still head back if you want to,” he said as he approached the other man.

Cobb turned over his shoulder. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I’ve… My friends know I’m not exactly made for land.”

“Oh?”

Cobb flipped his scarf up to wipe at his head. “Before we made landfall at Mos Pelgo, we took out a few Imperial ports. Small things that we only noticed because of the ships with galley slaves, but… I ain’t felt that alive in a while.”

Din fished the compass out from his pocket, flicking it open. The arrow spun lazily, pointing back to Cobb for a second before spinning around in the direction they were sailing, the same direction it had pointed when he thought about what Grogu needed.

He snapped it shut, coming up to stand beside Cobb.

“I’m sure we’ll run into something along the way. Here, I’ve got something to show you.”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Din bit his lip, glad for the bandana. “Do you trust me?”

Cobb chuckled. “I would have to be an idiot to sail out to who knows where with a man I didn’t trust.”

Din nodded. “Then let it be a surprise.”

Cobb acquiesced, letting himself be led to the middle of the deck. When they were under the main mast, Din grabbed the main line in one hand, pulling Cobb close with the other. He ignored how his cheeks flushed with the sudden closeness.

“Hold on tight,” he said.

“Wha-?” That’s all Cobb got out before Din flicked the switch with his foot and the two of them went rocketing up toward the crow’s nest. Cobb’s arms circled around him like a vice, his shouts lost in the wind.

Din made sure Cobb got in the basket before he did, especially when he realized his eyes were shut.

“Cobb, open your eyes.”

Cobb cracked one eye open and then both flew open as he realized what he was seeing. Glittering blue ocean, as far as the eye could see. There were two dots in the far distance, ships of some sort.

There was no better way to experience the vastness of it all, than looking at it from above.

He glanced at Cobb and saw his eyes tearing up a bit.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, letting Cobb take it all in. This was what being on the ocean was supposed to mean, freedom and possibility, beauty and wonder. Din didn’t expect to do much in laying a balm over Cobb’s past, but he hoped he could communicate with this view that he wanted to help when he could.

Cobb turned to face him and Din knew he understood.

“Thank you, Mando.”

“Din, my name is Din Djarin.”

“Then thank you, Din.” And to his surprise, he leaned over and kissed him just above where the scarf covered his face.

Neither of them acknowledged it, except for an exchange of eye contact. Neither could contain the mirth in the crinkles of their eyes.

“We should start plotting a course, shouldn’t we, Captain?” Cobb asked.

“Yes, Captain.”

#dincobbweek2021 #dincobb #marshmando #cobbdin #dincobbweek #pirate aus my beloved #cant get enough of them #so many times i was like 'oh shit that translates so well into pirate au!!!'#it was just a joy to write #as you can probably tell by how fucking long it is #esp compared to the other fics of sensible lengths for this week #kappa talks #my fanfic

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