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moonshine-nightlight · 2 years

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Don't Shoot the Messenger: Part Five

Despite how it might seem, being a messenger for the feared sea-demon pirate, Admiral Satrasi, infamous far and wide for having an entire fleet of raiding vessels who answer to him alone, is a relatively safe job. After all, no one knowingly crosses the Admiral. However, it appears the most recent captain looking to join his fleet hasn’t gotten that bulletin yet.

Fantasy, pirates, male monster x female reader, male demon, M/F, Part 5 of 9

Story Status: COMPLETE

AO3: Don't Shoot the Messenger Chapter 5

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] Part Five [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Eight] [Part Nine - NSFW]

You leave Wicklow with a map, drawn on scrap fabric and tucked into his pants. He didn’t wake up when the stablehand brought him to his room and he’s still out cold in the morning so you don’t bother trying.

You don’t want anyone else to find the map so you hope he can follow it despite the lack of explanation or labels.

At least for the last leg of the journey, you can just head directly for the cave and not worry about trying to find Wicklow. You weigh the decision of waiting until he wakes up and then going with him, but you’re worried you’ve already spent too much time away from Satrasi and that he needs to salt. Besides, once you give that to him, maybe you can go back for Wicklow.

When you get to the cave, it’s as silent as ever, but you aren’t. Due to a growing sense of urgency and some bad luck, you had to take the last leg of the journey alone on foot while lugging all the salt. As a result, you’re hot and sweaty and head directly for the pool because of your thirst more than anything. You fall to your knees and just stick your face into the water to drink.

By the time you’ve had enough to drink to satisfy you and for your breathing to level, you feel a spike of concern, because Satrasi still hasn’t surfaced.

“Satrasi?” you ask, your voice echoing in the otherwise silent cave.

The longer there’s no answer, the more your concern grows. Is he gone? Should you just heave one of the bags of salt into the pool? Would that make it undrinkable? Is it even worth bothering with if he’s gone or too far gone for it to do any good? Maybe he’s in one of those deeper parts of the cave and just can’t tell you’re here? But shouldn’t he be close by, awaiting your return?

In the end, you decide to open a bag, take as large a handful as you can, and then throw the salt as far out into the pool as you can. A chunk of it sticks together and makes a muted splash as it sinks deeper into the water, but the rest disperses over a wider area than you expect, the light illuminating the specks in the air until they hit the surface of the water and become indistinguishable.

You wait long enough to feel foolish, to feel that worry moving through you and start to think about what to do next, when movement catches your eye. You breathe out in relief as Satrasi’s head breaches the surface, but it's a momentary feeling.

His eyes are still red, but they don’t glow as far as you can tell, his skin looks rough and stretched, puffy and bloated. The tendrils of his hair stick out strangely, looking more false in some way than they did before.

He looks exhausted and desperate. That lessens though, when he spots you at the edge. Your heart picks up speed at the gratitude and hope in his eyes because of you. Faster than you expect given the state he seems to be in, he comes right up to the lip of the pool. “Little bite,” he says, his voice muffled and wet, like his tongue is swollen and he has to talk around it. “You came back.”

You tilt the opened bag towards him and he wastes no time in reaching out for a handful of salt. “Course I did. Got the salt and found some of your people.” One handful he pulls down into the water, no doubt towards that second mouth, and his other hand comes up to take some to shove into his more human mouth, though with those teeth there’s no mistaking it.

You eye the limp, fragile and nearly colorless fins that are on his forearms with dismay and concern, wondering if there’s anything other way to help. It's not until he’s taken at least half the first bag that he looks beyond you. “Where…?”

“Navigator Rietha wanted to get more crew and verify my story—found her in the port a few days ago. First Mate Wicklow I found yesterday, drunk practically under the table,” you can’t keep some of the disapproval to yourself. “Gave him the message, though I’m not sure how much he’ll remember.”

He blinks at you, seeming to truly focus on you for the first time since you returned. Maybe it's just wishful thinking that the salt could be helping so quickly, but some of the glow appears to leak back into his eyes. “You found both of those two?”

“Yes,” you reply, unsure in the face of his surprise but not wanting to show it. “Rietha at a tavern in the port. She had known it was taking you longer than expected to come back, but not that anything had happened to you because no one who’d gone with you had returned. Wicklow was in a tavern in Halletburg, having tracked you that far, but lost the trail once arriving.”

He stares at you, going longer without blinking than he should. Usually that would make you uncomfortable, but you feel trapped in his gaze, finding new flecks of black and gold amongst the red of his eyes. He leans closer, reaching out to catch your chin in his hand between his thumb and forefinger. His touch is wet and cold, his skin has more give though than you expect, for all the obvious strength in even those digits.

You wait, barely breathing, for him to say something, to wait for the verdict of his scrutiny.

“Impressive, little bite,” he murmurs, less wetly but lower; you can almost feel his voice like you do his breath against your lips. “Very impressive.”

He eases himself back slowly and you feel an inexplicable pang of loss at the distance. “I’d only hope you might find one, and even that had seemed like a long shot. I’ll not underestimate you again.”

Your eyes are still locked on his and you don’t want to look away, you don’t want to leave this bubble, this moment frozen in time outside of the rest of the world, where someone intelligent and powerful thinks you worthy of respect. Even your thoughts, usually so quick to knock you back down where you belong are silenced by the surety in his gaze, in his words. They feel like the truth, not just opinion, and you find you believe them.

And it doesn’t frighten you, it makes you eager—though for what, you’re not sure, only that it's tied to Satrasi, tied to the way he makes you feel, the way he finds value in you, the way he lets you be.

When he breaks eye contact around handful of salt, you feel the sting of disappointment even as the rest of your surroundings make themselves known once more. The rock underneath, digging into your knees, the breeze on the cooling sweat on the back of your neck, the exhaustion in your bones from traveling too far while carrying heavy things. You slump a little, taking stock of yourself and adjusting your position to a more comfortable one.

While you refill your waterskin and sip from that, Satrasi finishes off the first bag of salt. He seems to need a break, eyes flicking back over to you, drawing along your frame in a way that makes you want to fidget but also doesn’t want him to stop.

“Thank you,” he says, as intense as before, even if he’s a few feet away this time. You don’t know what to say, so you settle for a nod. Amusement seems to creep back into his eyes at your discomfort with his thanks, crowding out the exhaustion. “I’ll need to rest now, and consume the rest of this, but then if no one has come for me yet, I should have strength enough to go myself and return with your reward.”

“Right.” You nod, he’d said as much before you left on your quest. Some sort of demon magic, taxing, but would allow him to turn from a salt water being to a fresh water one. He needed the salt to give him strength enough for such a transformation and it was difficult—especially since he would have to transform back once he’d returned to the sea. “If you go on your own, perhaps it might be easiest if I went with you.” You shrug, only half kidding when you add, “Quickest way to ensure payment.”

He smirks, willing to go along with the veneer of selfishness to your justification although likely seeing through to your true motivation. That you simply want to go with him. “Of course.”

He reaches to pull one of the remaining bags of salt towards him with his arms. Your eyes widen when a thick dark black tentacle flows out of the water behind him to wrap around the other, drawing it behind him. You suppose that answers the question about how strangely his shadow and shape moved in the water.

“Until then,” he says as he sinks back under the water and out of sight.

You feel hollowed out with his presence gone and merely curl up for a nap, satisfied with a job well done and filled with anticipation for what is yet to come.

The next day, when you come back to the cave, it feels emptier than before. You find your crudely drawn map on how to get here under a rock where you usually sit to talk to Satrasi. You hope that means Wicklow managed to find his way here and not someone else—there’s certainly no sign of a struggle and only another sea demon could have gotten him out of the pool, if that. You feel bereft, even if this is potentially an ideal outcome.

You decide to try to get temporarily hired on at the inn as the easiest way to run into people from out of town. As luck would have it, after the first day of general chores, right as the innkeeper is thinking of sending you on your way, a group with plenty of coin comes into town. They’re demanding and intimidating enough that they could only be mercenaries and the innkeeper makes the decision to primarily have you serve them, not one of her own children. You understand her caution even as you resent being the sacrificial lamb.

You’re grateful when you figure out they’re here for a bounty—one for a demon pirate you quickly deduce is Satrasi. Now you keep your head down and try to draw as little attention so you can learn what they know, what they have at their disposal, so you can warn him.

It’s easy enough to skirt their notice at first, you’ve done yourself up younger as you always do in your hometown and they pay you little heed as you refill mugs and bring them food while they discuss their plans.

“I’ll set the spell up tonight and in the morning we’ll know of any demons in a two league radius. Tiny shithole like this, with jumpy folk just at the sight of us,” he jerks his head at the barkeep who freezes at the attention making him smirk, “no chance there are any demons around besides the ones we’re looking for. ‘Sides, demons always got people who’ll pay well for ‘em. We’ll move onto the next hole in the ground if he ain’t here.”

“That’s all well and good, but that’s not til this morning,” a woman whines, she’d look like a child if it wasn’t for the knives that decorated her entire body. “What are we supposed to do until then? We’re the most exciting thing here.”

One of the other men bats his eyelashes comically at her while you collect mugs and plates as quiet as you can to stay out of their mind. “You could always do one of us.”

She makes a face and throws a roll at him, which he catches and then takes a big bite out of, grinning. She scowls down at her stew. “Proving my point. Nothing else here worth anything.”

“It does seem to just be mice here, scurrying to stay out of our sight while still taking our coin,” an older woman says scowling as well. You hate the way she eyes her ax and shares a mean smirk with the other man. People this strong, used to roaming and fighting and taking what they want are nothing but trouble. “No respect, just fear. Makes me wanna give ‘em something to be afraid of.”

“Y’all are too used to the city, plenty of fun to be had in the countryside—you just gotta be better at finding it. Gotta sneak up on these wary folk. Ain’t that right, girl?” His hand flashes out quick as lightning to snag in your apron.

You freeze instantly, cursing yourself for not moving quicker, for not getting out once you heard about the spell.

“Really?” the one in blue says, eying you up and down, unimpressed. “Her? She’s still a child.”

“No, I don’t think so,” the woman in green replies and you feel as if she can see right through you. You hate how bare you feel under her gaze. Her gaze is cold and dismissive as she continues, “She’s at least legal. Nothing to her though—like as not to break if you try to play with her.”

“You’re all too harsh,” the man in charge, the one keeping you there says to them—still too cheerful by half. “What do you say, lass? I’m sure you’re itchin’ to show someone you’re all grown up.” His eyes drag down your body, lingering on your chest and ass. You hate him even though you try not to show it—that won’t get this type to let you go. He might sound compromising, but he ain’t—he wouldn’t have grabbed you if he was. “I promise no one from this backwater will give you as good a ride as I can.”

Some of the others laugh while you keep your eyes unfocused, not making eye contact with any of them.Your mind races as his fingers tighten in your apron, fisting in the material to keep you close by. It’s time to get out of here, eyes darting to the exits, to who might be in the way. Your fingers twitch to untie your apron springs and flee, but you know you’ll only get one chance and these are hunters.

You just need a…

The door to the inn bursts open, hitting the wall with a heavy thunk because that door is no light weight. Everyone turns to look, a few, yourself included, flinching at the sound, but your fingers are quick because you’ll not get a better distraction. Two quick flicks and all the mercenary is holding is the apron and you’ve moved to the edges of the room, on the other side of the fireplace where the fireplace irons are within easy reach.

Still you’d planned to go out the front door since it’s closer. There’s a greater chance someone could catch up to you if you have to weave through the kitchens. No one had actually come through the door yet so maybe once they came in, you can sneak out past them.

A shadow crosses in front of the door and a woman, backlit by the sun so you can’t make out her features, sticks her head in. “…sure this is the place, captain? Seems rather…” her eyes land on the innkeeper cowering by the bar and she grins, displaying sharp enough teeth you know she must have a demon ancestor. “…quaint.” There’s a threat to her words, as though by her very presence she plans to change that.

“Yer the one who wanted to nab beds afore we got down to business,” a man follows her in, exasperated. Finally your eyes adjust to the light as the pair blocks enough of it and they widen. They’re both clearly pirates—the smell of brine, the fit of their coats, the weathered skin and wind-tosseled hair. You narrow your eyes and then they widen as you identify Wicklow, no slur to his voice, eyes sharp and whole frame tense for a fight. He’s got on a smart black waist coat and blue overcoat—he nearly looks respectable. For the first time, you think you see what Satrasi might in him.

As if summoned by your thinking his name, another, bigger shadow appears and follows them in. “We’re already here,” a new voice grumbles, deep and rolling—like the bells of the church that ring loud enough you feel them in your bones. Without the wet, echo-y quality his voice had in the cave, Satrasi’s voice is so clear despite how low it is. “Just make it quick.”

The first thing you notice are his eyes. You hadn’t realized how used to them being half-closed and dim you’d gotten until you saw these. The vibrant red with pure black pupils are stunning when fully open and fully bright. His main two large eyes a little bigger than yours and then his second set, less than half the size of the first right next to them, are also wide open, both sets glowing in the shadows that fall on his face. They lead your eyes to the red scales, like large freckles except for the fact that they seem to glow too, scattered in clusters near those eyes and the other bare skin you can see.

Speaking of, gone is the sickly pallor his skin had had. Whereas before his skin was a solid dull gray, now his skin is a dark, rich blue which lightens on his underarms and the top of his exposed chest. He seems more solid in this moment than any other previously, more steady—healthy. You hadn’t realized how amorphous he had seemed in the water, although his hair tendrils seem to move more than a breeze would allow them to, given they are no longer in water. Their color improved as well. Only the tentacles on his back, that you know must be there for all you can’t see them, remain dark as ink and meld well with the shadows, leaving them as mysterious as before.

A vibrant red overcoat that complements the rest of his magnificent coloring has no sleeves which reveal the crisp white shirt underneath. The shirt sleeves only go down to his elbows so that the fins on his forearms are left visible. They look so much stronger compared to how limp and colorless they had seemed in your memory, their red and blue streaks bringing to your mind jewelry or tattoos—adornment. You briefly lament how covered his chest is, that maw must be closed, but are fairly confident the rest of him must be in similarly improved shape.

Your eyes travel down to his black breeches which startle you. Yes, he’d said he had legs and yet he had seemed so natural in the water and they seemed so invisible, it is still hard to see them, defined and held in tall black leather boots.

In addition to the physical, there’s Satrasi’s presence. Gone was the skulking predator, hovering just out of your reach, even as you knew you were in his. Now he stands before you, instantly in command of the room, immediately the biggest threat—smug in that knowledge as it sits comfortably on his shoulders. He looks around the room as if searching for anything that might disagree with that assessment and welcoming of the challenge such a creature might offer him. He rolls back his shoulders, almost restlessly, as if he can’t seem to understand why he might be in such a small space so obviously unable to contain him.

How obvious it is that those fools who captured him in the first place never would have been able to keep him caged for long.

He does narrow in on the closest thing to a threat this place has and a hungry grin, his teeth glinting silver and his tongue, black streaked with an almost glowing red, flicks against them. “Well now, looks as though we aren’t the only guests gracing this humble town.”

The mercenaries have frozen where they sit except to put hands on hilts. You see the leader’s eyes dart to the silver in Satrasi’s outfit—the silver braid that goes from his shoulder to his chest, a reference to his self-styled title of the Admiral—and then to his belt buckle which has the skull and tentacles that was his insignia.

He knows exactly who this is.

“Always interesting to meet others passing through the backcountry. What brings you to these parts?” He’s obviously trying to pretend Satrasi isn’t why he’s here, even if he doesn’t bother disguising that he has identified him.

Nothing in his demeanor gives him or any of his band away: they look like uninterested but on guard, as unrelated mercenaries would, but Satrasi is no fool. He smirks and then shrugs nonchalantly. “You know how it is, handling my end of a deal. You?”

“On our way to meet some lord in the port,” the mercenary replies smoothly. “High paying bounty. You know how it is,” he parrots with a bit of a sneer.

“Of course, none that I might know though, is it?”

“We only hunt on land, though I’m surprised to see your like so far from the sea.”

“Deals are deals,” Satrasi replies magnanimously, “wherever they take us.”

“I’ll drink to that,” one of the other mercenaries says.

“Care to join us?” one of the women offers with a wicked glint in her eye that might be flirty but mostly comes across as predatory to you. “I’m sure you’ll prove more interesting than the mudlappers here.”

The woman who came with Satrasi grins and spreads her hands. “Surely they’re not so bad. Small town folks are always so sweet to passers-through.”

“Unless they got cause not to be,” Wicklow says, his eyes flicking to the still frozen figure of the innkeeper, who is obviously fearful of yet more dangerous strangers than she’s prepared for, and the boy whose head leaps out of view by the kitchen door as soon as there’s notice on him.

“We’ve been nothing, but polite,” the mercenary leader lies as easy as he breathes.

“That true, little bite?” Your eyes flick to Satrasi’s face in surprise to find his locked on you. He smirks and you feel any lingering anxiety settle with him here. Of course he saw you and saw these folks for what they are. And he’s here to hold up his end of the deal.

Your trust in him solidifies into something strong and powerful at his look.

His eyes turn back to the lead mercenary, not bothering to watch you cross the floor to him—not pausing as you draw one of the fireplace irons from their stand just on instinct—skirting the mercenaries’ table with a wide berth to be by Satrasi’s side. “Because I’d bet a pretty penny on that being her apron in your hand.” He nods at the material the mercenary has clearly forgotten is in his hand.

“It is,” you say, speaking clearly to Satrasi alone because no one else here matters. His eyes drop down to you as you fit yourself comfortably next to him. You neck tilts up to look him in the eye. You’re so used to him being below you in the water and now he stands nearly a head taller than you. It makes you feel safer. “They were starting to push, but no, hadn’t done anything yet. You should know they’re here looking for you.”

His eyebrows raise in interest. He asks, his voice somehow even more darkly amused than you’ve ever heard it before, “Oh, are they?”

The thud of a mug hitting the table makes you twitch, but Satrasi doesn’t give any sign he heard anything, eyes still on you. “This fluffhead girl doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” the leading mercenary growls, obvious threat in his voice before you can see him lean back in his chair in the corner of your eyes. “Why would we be looking for you?” he asks, trying for casual but that facade is cracking. “Besides, you just got here and we’ve been here for more than a day.”

“Why are they looking for me?” Satrasi asks you, paying the man no mind, his smirk inviting you to be in on the joke they’re going for.

It’s warming, to be listened to, to be part of a group, to know he’ll believe you above others—you feel nearly drunk on the confidence it gives you. “A page did escape you and the forest demon. Governor offered them 100 gold for you alive, half if dead—each.”

“That’s up from last year,” Wicklow says, amused. “Getting frustrated it seems.”

“They have a spell map, finds demons in a two league radius they said—were about to set it and find you in the morn,” you continue to explain, ignoring the muttered curses from the mercenaries who are clearly giving up on their paper-thin ruse with how much they didn’t realize you heard.

“Well now, isn’t that interesting,” his eyes flick to the mercenaries, who are getting to their feet, “Seems I owe you even more than I thought. Why don’t you fetch the rest of my people from right outside so we take care of this annoyance and relieve them of their oh-so-intriguing map?”

That’s too much for the mercenaries, who are over their shock and pretense, and lunge for the pirates. You nod to Satrasi, sliding out of their way. You find Hayleth, the half-demon from the tavern in the port, leaning by some horses with three other pirates. “Fight broke out with some mercenaries looking for your captain,” you tell them. Even Hayleth, who hadn’t seemed to like or trust you previously is moving as the first few words leave your mouth without hesitation—or maybe he can just hear the sound of furniture being knocked about.

You feel full of energy, wanting to help with the fight but knowing you’d only get in the way. Instead you get down on one knee by the still open door to the inn, iron rod in hand. Sure enough, just as the fighting seems to be dying down, someone rushes out. After the split second it takes you to identify the lead mercenary, you bring the iron up with both hands just below his knees. He roars when it hits him and the force nearly throws you to the ground, but you’re able to right yourself and get back as he goes sprawling.

Before you can worry about where the best place to be is, a long black tentacle whips past you, wraps around the mercenary’s belt, and drags his prone form back into the inn. You look up to see Satrasi in the doorway, a full blown grin on his face displaying those sharp, sharp teeth. He pulls the leader behind him, tossing, “find out where he’s got the map,” over his shoulder. He barely looks like he’s been in a fight, clothing in fine order, no blood or injuries on him—only his unsheathed sword in hand as a cue.

His eyes land on you. “You simply can’t help being impressive, can you? I’ve got your payment,” he pats his breast pocket, “but more than that: how’d you like to join my crew? I could use a messenger like you.” He holds out a hand to help you to your feet.

You don’t even think, you don’t need to, as you clasp his hand. “Yes.”

[Part Six]

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the-bluerecluse · 2 years

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Working Through Illness

Sanders Sides: Platonic LAMP; Romantic Prinxiety

Summary: Virgil is very sick but due to financial pressure is forcing himself to go to work despite his illness. His friends are worried.

Warnings: sickness, vomiting, fainting, arguing, i think that’s it.

this fic is... sooooo just my own personal experiences. its practically a self insert. but, oh well.

---

Virgil was getting sick and tired of being sick and tired. He didn’t know what it was about his life, but he was almost never healthy. He’d always have a cold, or the flu, or an infection, or anemia, or a rare tick disease only two people get in his state a year! Lucky him, he was one of the pair that year.

Not to mention all the soreness from his posture, his sciatica issues, hormone imbalances, and on he could go. And he still hasn’t even gone into all the mental issues!

To summarize, Virgil’s life was the opposite of healthy.

He’d gotten a little used to it. Well, there’s only so used to you can get with the diseases, but for the most part he ran with the punches. He saw doctor’s regularly, took his medications, and recorded his symptoms.

But he could sense his bosses at work were getting irate with his many shifts missed due to illness. And worse, if he kept missing work, then he wouldn’t be able to pitch in for this month’s rent.

There was no way Virgil was letting Logan pay all of that month’s rent. They lived together in an apartment with a clear agreement of rent paid 50/50. This wouldn’t be a problem usually, but this stupid tick disease had been clinging to him for weeks! He’s missed almost all of his shifts in those two weeks, and the few he had gone to he’d had to leave early.

Virgil stared his reflection down in the mirror looking like death itself. He shook his head and splashed some cold water on his face. He wasn’t missing work again. He could make it through this shift. It was only 7 hours. He was a delivery driver; he could just throw up out of his window on the road and no one would be able to send him home early. No one would be mad at him, and he could finally get paid for a full shift.

“Are you going to let your bosses know you can’t come in again?” Logan asked from outside the bathroom. Virgil met his gaze in the mirror.

“I’m feeling better today. I can go in.”

Logan sighed. “Virgil, I know you don’t like... ‘feeling like a burden’” Logan made generous use of air quotes. “but you really need to rest. Isn’t that the advice your doctor gave you?”

“Yes.” Virgil sighed. “But. I feel better now.” Virgil turned and pushed past Logan. He stopped for a quick glass of water in the kitchen and downed it.

“You still need your rest-” Logan began a previously experienced rant just as Virgil’s stomach sent a message of “YOU DRANK THAT TOO FAST” and Virgil shoved past Logan to the bathroom to painfully retch up the grand total of nothing in his stomach.

“You cannot work in food service if you’re vomiting!”

Virgil had plenty of time to plan out his retort as his stomach took its time making sure it was completely empty.

Once he finished, he gasped for the air he couldn’t intake while retching. After a moment he wiped the wetness from his eyes and stomach acid from his lips.

“We already know the disease causing it. It’s blood borne; it won’t spread to anyone. I’m not that big of a dick.”

“And if you throw up into the food?”

Virgil gestured to the toilet. “There. Nothing left over. If I don’t eat or drink anything else, I should be fine.”

“That is completely devoid of logic, please lay down!” Virgil could hear Logan growing incredibly frustrated.

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” Virgil panted.

“No! Because my... my friend, someone I care about, is clearly sick and needs rest but he has decided going and delivering sandwiches is more important than that!”

“It’s my life, I’ll do whatever the Hell I want!” Virgil shouted and stomped out of the apartment, all but slamming the door behind him. He made his way to his car and got out of there before Logan could come out after him.

Virgil felt a little guilty for yelling at Logan, but there was no other way he’d listen.

He just had to go to enough shifts for rent. That’s it.

Virgil could feel the bags under his eyes growing as he pulled into his workplace, a chain sandwich shop with a way too loud oven buzzer. He sighed and grabbed his hat from the passenger seat and pulled himself out of the car with a groan. He wobbled a bit before firmly planting his feet into the ground. His vision was a bit fuzzy around the edges.

He checked his phone for the time only to see 11 new texts. 4 from Logan which he expected, but now his boyfriend Roman was texting him too.

Logan snitched on him, the bastard.

Virgil sighed again.

Logan wasn’t a bastard, just... being a bit of a mom.

Whatever.

Virgil set his phone to do not disturb and went in for his shift.

Just seven hours. He could do seven hours.

...

It wasn’t even 30 minutes of work before workers were commenting on his paleness and asking if he needed to sit down.

Pity. Oh, how he hated pity.

Eventually one of his managers came out with a frustrated look. “Are you going to ask to miss the rest of your shift again? We can’t keep calling in people to cover for you.”

Virgil winced. “Yeah, I’m fine. No more leaving during shifts.”

The manager’s expression softened just the slightest bit. “Good. Now, you’ve got a few deliveries. Remember your car topper!”

Virgil nodded and got to work. The deliveries themselves were the easiest part, just driving with his playlist in the back, it was the in-shop work that was the hardest. Working with and around food, sweeping and mopping, cleaning the bathrooms, all that was making him regret not just hiding under the blankets for the next 5 years.

Rent. Gotta pay rent.

That was the only thing pushing him at that point, that and adrenaline.

Virgil wasn’t sure how far he was into his shift when he felt the tell-tale curl of his lips and nausea in his gut. He walked as quickly and discreetly as he could to the bathroom, locked it, and had a repeat performance of that morning. He retched and hurled so much he couldn’t get a breath in. He just kept gagging and hurling until he could finally breathe. At that point, he tried to stand up and instead things went black for a moment.

Virgil slowly opened his ten-ton eyelids with his face on the goddamn bathroom floor of a shitty sandwich shop. He could feel a bruise forming on his chin and bile in his mouth.

He heard a knocking. “Virgil? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Virgil rasped out in a voice that most certainly did not sound fine.

“Are you sure?”

Virgil cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine!”

“You know, if you’re sick you can go home-”

Virgil’s mind flashed to his disappointed manager and his double digit paycheck. “I’m fine! I promise.”

There was a pause. “Okay...” The voice trailed off and footsteps were heard leaving the bathroom.

Virgil let out a breath of relief. “I swear to god, if I hit my face on the fucking toilet...” Virgil muttered to himself. He stood and looked in the mirror.

That bruise was already noticeable, but what bothered Virgil most was the fact that his face just came off a bathroom floor. He quickly made use of the hand soap and thoroughly scrubbed his pale face.

He pulled out his phone. Just an hour and a half left. As long as he doesn’t pass out like that in front of people, and he keeps his vomiting to the toilet, he can keep this up right? Seven-hour shift with his wage... plus what he had in savings...

...He’d still need at least three more full shifts before he had enough for rent this month.

Whatever! He could do this!

He’d made it this far, right?

Virgil plastered on his usual smirk and exited the bathroom.

Just a bit more for today...

...

Virgil pulled into his apartment complex feeling oddly proud. He may have felt like complete and utter shit, but he did it. Just a few more, and he’ll pull it off. Maybe tonight he can finally eat something and just get some sleep, maybe watch some anime or something.

He fiddled with his keys and entered the apartment, not expecting to see his roommate, his boyfriend, and his best friend all sat in the living room waiting for him.

“Dear Zeus, there you are.” Roman rushed to Virgil and wrapped him in an embrace. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Virgil winced, trying to pretend like that didn’t sting a bit.

“Kiddo, let’s not make him feel any worse.” Patton put an arm on Roman’s shoulder.

Roman sighed and let Virgil go.

“We were worried sick, mi amor. Though not as sick as you’ve clearly been.”

“Virgil, why on Earth did you go to work after being so sick?” Patton asked.

“In case you don’t remember, I’m an hourly worker. I don’t get sick leave. So, no work, no money, no rent.”

“Oh, honestly, Virgil, is that what this is about? I told you I’d cover this month.”

“I’m not gonna have you spend all your savings paying the rent I’m committed to paying.”

Patton spoke softly. “Vee, we can all pitch in to help, it’s not just on Logan.”

Roman shrugged. “Yeah, and Logan’s got a great job, he can handle another month’s rent.”

“That’s not the point!” Virgil practically shouted. “I am not gonna depend on others and never do anything for myself. I have to do this. I have to do things for myself. I have to carry my own weight!”

Logan matched Virgil’s volume. “Virgil, you are ill! You can’t carry your own weight right now no matter how bad you want to. You need to depend on others. On us!”

“I can’t! I can’t just- I can’t! I-” Virgil gagged and ran to the bathroom for another encore of that morning.

Logan sighed and looked to his friends, feeling helpless.

Patton walked towards the bathroom and took a knee behind Virgil, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

“What are we gonna do, specs?” Roman asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

“Honestly, the rent’s not that big of a problem if you two can help out. However, the issue rests in Virgil’s pride. He feels burdensome and weak if he cannot figuratively carry his own weight.”

“Even if he’s practically dying?”

“He’s not dying.”

“I said practically!”

“In any case, Virgil is suffering physically and mentally. And by his behavior, I believe his mental suffering is more distressing than anything physical he may be dealing with.”

“Then what do we do?”

Logan was quiet for a moment. Nothing was to be heard other than Virgil gagging and gasping.

“We support him mentally however we can. We cannot force him to take care of himself, but we can encourage it and be there for him.”

“Agreed.”

#fic #virgil sanders #fanfic #sickfic #angst #roman sanders #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #fanfiction #thomas sanders

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holy-hyuck · 3 years

Text

NCT Dream Reaction: They See You Wearing Their Clothes

warning: there’s like a swear word or two in jaemin’s

by the way, would you guys want me to add shotaro and sungchan as a bonus into these since they’re not in a permanent unit yet?

also no, i absolutely do not have a crush on jaemin, what are you talking about?

Mark

It was so cold, so unbelievably cold in Mark’s apartment. You told him to fix the heating but he’s been too busy binging Netflix to bother. Shivering in your thin tee, you rummaged through Mark’s closet for something warm to wear. If he wasn’t going to get the heating sorted, you were going to steal every last one of his hoodies until he had no other choice.

Throwing the black, oversized hoodie over your head, you made your way downstairs and plopped on the couch beside him, making him turn his attention away from the TV screen and towards you.

“Is that my- Is that my hoodie?”

“Yes, it is. Actually, it’s now mine, at least until you get the heating fixed.” You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

Laughing, he threw his arms around you and started mumbling into your neck.

“Gosh, you’re so cute, you have no idea.”

You let out a whine, surrendering. This was not how this was supposed to go.

Renjun

You stayed over at the Dreamies’ dorm with the intent of catching up with them since their busy schedule meant you barely saw them - especially your boyfriend. A sleepover and a movie night seemed like a great idea.

The boys already had a table stacked with snacks and drinks.

You made the awful decision of wearing denim shorts, which meant twisting and turning for the first thirty minutes of the first movie Jeno picked until he had to go to the toilet and you paused it.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, seeing your discomfort.

You shook your head, looking over at your boyfriend. “Do you have anything comfortable I could wear?” you asked, a puppy-like look on your face (or at least an attempted one), and he obliged, bringing you a pair of his sweatpants.

Once Jeno exited the toilet, you changed into your boyfriend’s clothes, coming back into the living room. Upon seeing you, Renjun burst into laughter, the already slightly baggy (on him) sweatpants completely drowning out your legs so it looked like you were wearing a trash bag over them.

“Y-You l-look great-”

He managed between laughs, covering his face, his head falling back into the couch cushions as he nearly fell on Jaemin. He was hoping his hand also covered his blush because - although he wasn’t sure what exactly it was - something about you wearing his clothes made him feel fuzzy inside and he hoped to see you in them again - just maybe in different circumstances.

Jeno

Out on the beach with your friends was the best way you could think of to spend the last weekend off before school. You sat on the sand, watching Yeri and Jaemin splash each other with water, their swimming suits soaked. They've been at it for the past fifteen minutes, and it all started because Jaemin drank one espresso too much and threw Yeri into the water.

You sat next to Jeno, both of you watching your friends laugh, and next to him sat Renjun, who typed on his phone like his life depended on it. You and Jeno didn't speak much; you were a bit awkward around each other, you'll admit, but that's only because two months ago, you kissed during a game of spin the bottle, and it was a little more heated than you would like, and now maybe, just maybe, you've developed a crush on the black-haired boy.

It was weird - you've known him for three years, and never looked at him that way. Only after the kiss, you started seeing him as this handsome guy with crescent-shaped eyes when he smiled, and not just a friend who wasn't ugly.

Your two friends finally got out of the water, making their way to their towels and drying themselves off. You shivered, the evening weather finally catching up to you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you rubbed the skin harshly, hoping to generate some heat, and hoping you'll be making your way back home soon.

Renjun noticed this and shoved Jeno with his elbow, gesturing to you. When Jeno gave him a confused look, he rolled his eyes and started tugging on Jeno's jacket in an attempt to take it off. They had a little fight to the right of you, but you were none the wiser and ignored them until Jeno cleared his throat. You looked in his direction to see him taking off his jacket and draping it across your shoulders before giving you a small smile.

"You looked like you needed it."

You smiled at him. "Thank you." Both of you looked at the sand beneath your feet, heat rising to your cheeks.

To your left, Jaemin and Yeri exchanged a look and simultaneously rolled their eyes. You were both so goddamn oblivious.

Haechan / Donghyuck

You clipped your hair back with the lonely bobby pin in your pocket, pulling the jacket around you tighter to brace yourself for the ruthless winds outside. Exiting the shop with Donghyuck by your side, you picked up your pace to make it home before it became any colder or windier - which it did, a minute into your journey.

The wind made your eyes water and you shrunk yourself, head down, ignoring your boyfriend, who began failing to catch up to you.

Suddenly, you felt something warm wrap around your neck and turned around to find your boyfriend securing his scarf around it, unzipping your jacket to tuck it underneath, then zipping it back up. It left his neck exposed due to the low-cut t-shirt he wore under his leather jacket, and you frowned at the sight of it, opening your mouth to protest before he interrupted you.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. You look like you need it more than me.”

Wrapping his arm around you, thus offering you even more of his body’s warmth, he led you towards his apartment, where he made you hot cocoa and cuddled you until you felt warm again.

You still didn’t take off his scarf, and he never asked for it back.

Jaemin

Maybe you didn't remember much from last night, however, when you woke up with a white, oversized denim jacket hanging from your desk chair, you were reminded of Jaemin - a loud and charming boy from one of your classes - lending you the covering after he walked you home after one too many drinks. In your defence, you bet with your friend that you could handle more shots than her, and won (the vomiting-in-the-garden part doesn't matter).

You got ready and rushed into your lecture hall, sitting somewhere in the middle and eyeing the students to spot the black-haired boy. When you managed to finally do so, he was already talking to one of his best friends, and the professor had started the lecture.

At the end of the lecture, you went up to Jaemin, who again, had busied himself talking to his friend. But when the other boy, Lee Jeno, saw you, he slapped Jaemin across the chest to get his attention.

Finally, Jaemin turned to you, taking a second or two to take in your appearance, his denim jacket hanging loosely on your shoulders. He almost laughed, his smile getting bigger than you've ever seen it. In the background, Jeno was laughing his ass off at Jaemin's reaction.

You cleared your throat. "Sorry, I just saw it on my chair today. It's yours right?" You took the jacket off of you and handed it to him once the boy nodded his head. "Thanks for last night, I don't know how I've survived but you certainly made it easier. Anyway, I'll see you later. You too, Jeno."

The older boy waved his hand at you and walked to Jaemin as the two of them watched you leave. "They looked good, huh?"

Jaemin looked to Jeno and smiled. "Fucking gorgeous."

Chenle

You may or may not have gotten too comfortable during your last few weeks of university, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie every day around your house, only swapping out the bottoms for a pair of jeans when going out. Honestly, you couldn't even remember the last time you put any effort into your appearance.

However, the dreadful day came when you had to meet Chenle's friends. You weren't dating for long, only a couple of weeks at most, so you felt the need to impress both them and your boyfriend. Thankfully, the plan to go to an amusement park were cancelled and swapped out for a movie night, so you felt okay with throwing on a hoodie and calling it a day. Spotting a bright blue coloured one in the corner of your bed, and realising it's Chenle's, you quickly pulled it over your head and rushed out of your house after realising you were late.

You were shaking the whole way to Jisung's house, hoping to calm down by the time you got there. He graciously let you inside and introduced you to two other guys and a girl, and you hoped they would spare you the embarrassment of wiping their hands after touching your sweaty palm.

"I like your hoodie," the girl said.

"Oh, thank you. It's Chenle's, actually," you replied after a beat. "Um, where is he?" You looked around, unable to spot the blond boy.

Suddenly, you heard a high-pitched scream coming from your right, an exclamation of "cute!" yelled your way, right before being tackled to the ground by the man-child in question. He pulled the hood over your head and grinned down at you.

"I'm guessing you like it?"

Jisung

Grabbing a book off Jisung's bedside table, you plopped on his bed with nothing but his thick, blue robe on. Admittedly, it was warm and cosy; definitely something you would have to steal. You skimmed through some of the pages of the history textbook before becoming bored and chucking it next to you.

Standing up from the mattress, you wandered around his room, waiting until he finished his shower.

"Hey, have you seen my-" Jisung came out of the bathroom, holding a towel to his chest, "-robe?"

He sighed, looking at you in his garment as you smiled like the Cheshire cat.

"Can I have that back?"

You skidded across the room to stand in front of him, going on your tip-toes and giving him a peck on the lips. "Nope."

Jisung shook his head at your antics before going to change into some clothes.

#nct reactions #nct dream reactions #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #mark reactions #renjun reactions #jeno reactions #haechan reactions #donghyuck reactions #jaemin reactions #chenle reactions #jisung reactions

477 notes · View notes

celestial-kit · 3 years

Text

When He Sees Me

Pairing: Kirishima x f!reader

Warning: NSFW, Minors DNI, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Penetration, Just general sex I guess

As a waitress in a diner, it wasn’t uncommon to have regular patrons. You often saw a group of nurses come in for mimosas and pancakes after finishing a night shift, a pair of retired old men who set up a small, mobile tv to watch old movies while slowly eating their lunch, and a gaggle of grumpy middle aged women who always tip you with spare change and life advice. One regular that you always look forward to seeing is Pro-Hero Red Riot. He started coming by the diner a few months ago, looking for a quick meal after finishing a long patrol and, even though you could tell he was tired, he greeted you with a big, toothy grin and introduced himself as Kirishima.

Since that first night, he started regularly eating dinner at the diner every Monday, always sitting at the same table in the back of the restaurant and always looking so happy to see you. He took the time to ask how you were doing, he was patient and kind when you were having a particularly busy shift, and he always tipped very well. He was, undoubtedly, your favorite customer.

This Monday, you were surprised to see that Kirishima wasn’t alone when he walked into the diner. Standing next to him was Pro-Hero Dynamight, wearing his signature scowl as he looked at you with annoyance. You had to admit, you were a little frightened to see him in person. He was rather intimidating and it was a stark contrast to Kirishima’s disarming nature.

Kirishima saw you freeze as his best friend gave you a death glare. He rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned down and gave you a sympathetic smile, “Don’t mind him, he gets hangry. Can we have my normal table?”

“Sure!” You squeak nervously. You grab two menus for the large men and quickly walk them back to their table. After they’ve taken their seats, you whip out your notepad and pen. “Can I start you with something to drink?”

Kirishima gives you a smile as he looks up into your eyes. “I’ll just have water. How’s your night been?”

You can feel your cheeks warming up at his attention. He was always so genuine when he spoke to you, with his head resting on his fist and looking at you like you’re the only person in the room. You meet his eye contact and tuck some hair behind your ear as you reply. “It’s been good. A little slow, but that just means I have more time to read between tables.”

His eyebrows rise at that. “Oh? What are you reading?” You open your mouth to respond, but you’re interrupted by a cough next to you. You turn your head and see Dynamight with his arms crossed and his death glare now focused on Kirishima. You quickly realize that you never took his drink order.

“I’m so sorry! What can I get you to drink?” You respond hastily. Without looking at you, he grumbled a low “Water” and you left to get their drinks. As you came back, you could see them both leaning over the table and whispering about something.

“Just tell her, idiot,” Dynamight whispered loudly to Kirishima as you set their water on the table.

“Tell me what?” You ask, innocently looking at Kirishima. His face went almost as red as his hair as he waved his hands in front of him.

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it,” he laughed as he looked pointedly at his blonde friend. Dynamite groaned at this, clearly annoyed with this interaction.

“If you don’t tell her, I will. I’m sick of you talking about it all the time,” he crossed his arms again and looked at Kirishima with an eyebrow raised, daring him to take on his challenge. Kirishima looked horrified for a split second before he looked at you and ultimately looked away, a soft blush painting his cheeks as he started to speak.

“I have a little crush on you,” he admits, making Dynamight snort. Kirishima frowned at his friend before he continued, “Ok, it’s not little. I think you’re beautiful and you’re all I can think about. Can I take you out sometime?” He finally looked up at you, hopeful and nervous after his confession. You stared at him with your mouth agape as your face started burning up. You were shocked that he felt this way, but you weren’t displeased. You always thought that Kirishima was handsome and you loved the brief amount of time you got to spend with him each Monday.

As you tried to wrap your mind around the situation, you could see Kirishima’s face fall. You realize that it had been a minute and you still hadn’t responded to his question. “Yes! Of course, I’d love to! Are you free Friday?”

Kirishima’s face brightens at this, excitedly saying, “Really? Yeah, let’s do Friday!” He stands up with a big grin on his face, raising his hand to high-five his friend, and starts to walk out of the diner, with Dynamight following closely behind. You gawk at them as they push the door open to walk out onto the sidewalk.

“Wait! Aren’t you forgetting something?” You giggle as the redhead turns around, looking as if he had an epiphany and starts walking back to where you're rooted at his table.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughs sheepishly as he pulls out a large bill from his wallet and places it on the table, presumably to pay for the water that neither of them drank.

You blink before you push the bill back into his hand and say, “No, don’t you need my phone number?”

Kirishima blinks back at you and nods, pulling his phone from his pocket and handing it to you as a fresh blush paints his cheeks. You giggle again as you input your number, acutely aware of Kirishima staring over your shoulder, his large frame invading your space. You hand his phone back to him with a dizzy smile, his hand brushing yours as he takes it from you.

Kirishima meets your eyes and flashes you another smile, “I’ll text you!” And then he was out the door, meeting up with his scowling friend and walking away from the diner.

Kirishima did, in fact, text you. During the days leading up to your date, you spent every spare moment you could texting each other, updating each other throughout the day of what you were doing and texting late into the night, getting to know each other. You also swapped photos back and forth, nothing raunchy, just little snapshots of your day. You would send photos of you curled up with your cat, cooking dinner, drinking wine. He would send photos of himself at the gym, walking with Dynamight, and showing himself looking bored as he filled out paperwork.

One picture in particular had your mouth going dry and your stomach doing flips. Around midday on Wednesday he sent you a picture of him sitting on top of a criminal, pinning him to the ground with one hand on the back of his head, the selfie taken at an angle above Kirishima’s head and showed off the sweat stuck to his brow as he grinned proudly at the camera. You zoomed in on the picture, admiring his pectoral muscles and chiseled abs, imagining how it might feel to have him pin you down like that. You texted back a simple “Be careful!” before rushing to the restroom in the diner to splash cold water on your face.

When Friday came, you were eager to see Kirishima. It had been a while since you had been on a date, so you took your time getting ready, sipping on a chilled glass of wine to calm your nerves. The restaurant you agreed to meet at was close to your apartment, so you knew you could walk there and didn’t need to worry about driving. When you arrived, you could see Kirishima already at a table, wearing a simple white button down tucked into black slacks. A few buttons were undone at the top of his shirt, showing off his pecs and some of the black hair that littered his chest.

When he saw you walking up, he broke out in a massive grin, standing up and wrapping you in a warm hug, landing a quick kiss on your cheek. He pulled away, still grinning, to pull out your chair for you to sit down. Your cheeks were burning red from the affection as you sat down and said, “Thank you.”

Kirishima sat across from you and took the time to look you up and down as you started perusing the menu. His gaze swept across the gentle features of your face, admiring the curve of your lips which was accentuated with your lipgloss, and continued to move his gaze down past your exposed neck to land on your cleavage. Your dress loosely fits your curves, and he can’t help but stare.

The rest of your evening seemed like a blur, you and Kirishima falling into a rhythm of talking, laughing, and drinking. Together you share a bottle of wine, various appetizers, and, at one point, shots of tequila. You were feeling warm and giggly from the booze and the company, it felt nice. Under the table, Kirishima had kicked out his long legs and intertwined them with yours, playing footsie as he looked at you dreamily. The waiter eventually interrupts you to ask if you would like dessert. You and Kirishima share a look before he declines the waiter's offer. As Kirishima pays the bill, you reach across the table to graze your fingers over his knuckles, gently asking, “Want to have dessert at my place?”

Kirishima’s hungry, red eyes meet yours at your suggestion and he simply nods before throwing some money on the bill and grabbing your hand to pull you out of the restaurant. You lead the way down the street, walking swiftly with Kirishima’s hand on your back, keeping you close. When you get into your apartment elevator, Kirishima doesn’t hesitate to grab your face and crash his lips to yours. It feels as if the events of the week have been leading up to this moment, and the release of tension between the two of you has you moaning into his lips.

The elevator ride is short, and you’re pulling away from him before you really want to to lead you both to your apartment door. You fumble with your keys as Kirishima holds onto your hips, pressing his chest to your back and laying soft, wet kisses to your neck. When your door finally swings open, Kirishima is quick to turn you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you as close as he can while he bullies his tongue into your mouth. He blindly kicks your door shut and starts walking you backwards into your apartment, practically lifting you off the ground to keep your mouth glued to his. When he pulls back for air, he can’t help but groan when he sees your disheveled state. You hair is a mess from his hands wandering in it in the elevator, you dress is pulled down dangerously low, exposing more of your cleavage with one strap falling off your shoulder, and your bruised lips are agape as you look at him with glassy eyes.

“You know, I think I changed my mind. I do want dessert,” he states simply before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and walking through your apartment, searching for your bedroom. You take this opportunity to attack his neck, doing your best to leave your mark on him while your hands fist in his hair.

Before you can do too much damage, you are dropped unceremoniously on your bed, startling your cat who was sleeping peacefully on your pillow. “Sorry buddy,” Kirishima mumbles without looking at the animal, too focused on running his hot hands up your thighs and under your dress. He wraps his strong fingers around the edges of your underwear, pushing his thumb into the fabric at your crotch and feeling how you’re already soaking through your underwear and wetting his thumb. He brings his hand back to examine the glistening digit briefly before sticking it in his mouth and sucking your essence off it, his eyes meeting yours as you gasp his name.

He frowns at the use of his surname. “Call me Eijiro,” he says gruffly.

His tone and intense stare warm you up, turning your cheeks red and filling your stomach with butterflies. “Eijiro,” you moan, as he goes back to rubbing you through your underwear.

“Good girl,” he smirks at you. Then you hear a ripping noise and you realize that your underwear is now just a limp piece of fabric being tossed behind Kirishima’s shoulder.

“Eijiro!” You exclaim, shocked that your favorite pair of panties are completely destroyed. Kirishima just laughs at you.

“Don’t worry, precious. I’ll buy you a new pair.” Then he was leaning in and swiping his tongue across your wet heat, making you gasp at the contact. He uses his big hands to push your dress up past your hips and bury his tongue inside your pussy, thrusting in and out and drinking your essence as you moan his name and grab fistfuls of his hair.

His hot tongue works its way up to your clit, circling it as he moans against you, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He brings one hand down from your hips and slowly works a finger inside you while you hiss at the stretch. His hands are so big, like everything else about him, and if you weren’t so wet then the intrusion might have hurt. He starts working this finger inside you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace and curling to hit that spongy spot inside you each time. His attention on your clit persists, making you whimper, and soon you can hear the loud squelching noises of his finger moving inside you while you sucks and licks at your clit.

When he pushes a second finger in, you let out a loud moan, throwing your head back and doing your best to buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. He groans against you and uses his one hand on your hip to halt your movements, holding you in place while he starts pistoning his fingers into you. You feel tears beading at your eyes as you start heading towards a familiar cliff.

“Oh god, Eijiro!” you gasp as you near your peak.

Kirishima pulls back briefly, “Cum for me, honey. You can do it. Cum on my fingers.” His fingers don’t relent and his mouth goes back to abusing your clit as you let out a pitiful sob, gushing around his fingers and clamping down on him. He works you through your orgasm, your quiet cries spurring him on as he continues to slowly push his fingers into you.

Eventually, he pulls away, kissing up your body and dragging your dress with him until it is over your head and on the floor. He leans down to place a kiss on your lips while he grabs your breasts and flicks your hardening nipples with his thumbs. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue and then your pushing at his shoulders so that he’s hovering over you. Before he can say anything, you grab at the edges of his shirt and pull to try to pop the buttons off his shirt. It doesn’t work, so you try again, but still fail.

You pout at his indestructible shirt and he laughs at you again. Then, he sits up and grabs the edges where you had and rips the buttons open himself. You gasp as he shucks the ruined material from his shoulders with a cocky smirk and you reach up to run your hands over his newly exposed chest, admiring the way black hair is scattered across his chest and leads down his abs to below his belt. Your mouth starts to water at the idea of what his pants might be hiding, so you sit up with him to start laying kissing on chest and stomach while your hands work his belt open.

When he’s finally free from his confines, you can’t help but gasp at his size, your eyes widening as you take him in.

He’s thick and long, the weight of him causing his length to fall despite him being fully hard. The black hair that you admired on his torso is neatly trimmed around the base of his cock, which sits directly atop his full, round balls. You clench your thighs together at the idea of him filling you up. Part of you doesn’t think he’ll fit, but another, more excited, part of you is eager to try.

You tentatively wrap a hand around the base of his cock, looking up at him through your tear stained lashes for approval. His hand reaches down to fist your hair, nodding and pulling your face closer to him. You bring your other hand up to wrap around him as well and you poke your tongue out to give him kitten licks around his head. He groans and tightens his hand in your hair, thrusting his hips a little, wiping his head and smearing precum along your cheek. You sit up on your knees for better leverage and bend down to wrap your lips around his head, feeling his fist tighten again as he starts dragging your mouth along his cock.

Kirishima knows he’s big, he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s gentle as he fucks your face. When he starts hitting the back of your throat and tears start spilling down your cheeks, his other hand comes up and he uses his thumbs to wipe them from your face and cradle your cheek, feeling the way his length fills your cheeks.

His moans are loud, he wants you to know how good you’re making him feel. He tells you things like You’re doing so good, baby and You’re taking my cock so well. When his moans get louder, you think he’s going to cum, so you twist one hand at the base of him and use your other hand to hold and squeeze his balls. Right when you expect him to finish down your throat, he’s using your hair to pull you back, looking down at your tear stained face while his chest heaves up and down from the effort of holding off his orgasm.

“Don’t want to cum yet. I wanna fuck you,” he says, pushing your shoulders until your back hits the bed. You nod your head like a woman possessed while he kicks his pants off and pulls a condom out of his pocket. You want to tell him not to worry about it, you’re on birth control, but you understand that as a Pro-Hero he may want to take certain precautions. Next time you think to yourself as he rolls the latex down his length and lines himself up with your leaking hole.

When he pushes in, you gasp at the burn of it, and new tears start rolling down your cheeks as he continues to push his monster length inside you. Kirishima knows it probably hurts, but he ignores your weak cries of Wait, you’re too big because he knows that the best way for the pain to stop is to just push through it. When he’s fully seated inside you, he just sits there, leaning down to kiss the tears from your face as you sob weakly. You want him to fuck you, but the stretch of him is making you clamp down so hard that he’s unable to move from his spot inside you.

“Relax, baby. You gotta stop clenching,” Kirishima says through gritted teeth. He looks as if he’s in pain, too.

“I can’t,” you say. “You’re too big, Eiji. I can’t do it.” You let out another broken sob, wishing your body would listen to what you wanted. Kirishima didn’t say anything, he just leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth again and making out with you to distract you from the pressure of his length inside you. His lips moving against yours have you warming up again, and you can feel yourself flutter around his length, your wetness giving him enough lubricant to slowly pull out and push back in at a shallow pace.

When you start moaning at this action, Kirishima takes this as a cue that you’re feeling good, you want more. He leans back from kissing you and grabs the backs of your thighs, pushing your legs up and close to your chest, and starts fucking you faster and harder. You cry out at the new angle, watching him as he watches his cock disappear inside of you, his mouth hanging open as he releases long, loud moans. When he looks at your face, he smirks.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” He asks, continuing his brutal pace. You nod your head, holding his eye contact and reaching up to play with your breasts, tugging on your nipples and moaning out his name. He grunts at your display, pushing himself harder into you and reaching down to swipe fast circles around your clit.

You can feel that coil tightening again in your stomach, nearing your second orgasm of the night as Kirishima’s hips increase in speed. You start to feel delirious from the pleasure, drooling and babbling about how good he feels, how he’s so big, how you’re so close to cumming again.

“Yeah, baby? You want to cum again?” Kirishima asks lowly, trying to contain himself as you writhe beneath him.

“Yes, yes! Please Eijiro, I want to cum!” Your head is thrown back and you know you won’t last as the head of his cock hits your g-spot over and over and over.

“Cum for me, angel. Cum on my cock, I want to feel you.” Kirishima encourages you, and you listen to him. You arch your back and let out a wail you didn’t know you were capable of as you cum all over his cock, clamping down on him again and holding him in place as he groans at your tight walls. As you’re coming down from your high, Kirishima pushes your legs closer to your chest and fucks you faster and harder than he had all night, chasing his own high. You gasp and watch him as he grunts and groans and moans your name unashamedly, drowning in pleasure.

You moan at the feeling of him dragging inside your wet walls, and you tell him how bad you want him to cum. You tell him you wish he could cum inside you, you want him to fill you up until your dripping cum. It’s too much for Kirishima as he hastily pulls out with a loud groan, ripping the condom off his fat cock and fisting himself until he’s cumming all over your breasts and stomach.

You gaze up at the man above you, his head thrown back as he tries to catch his breath, his length softening in his hand, and you think that he’s beautiful. He looks down at you, sees you covered in his seed, and gives you a shy smile. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

You giggle a little, “It’s ok, I like it.” You smile up at him and rub your hand through his cum on your stomach. He groans again and then leans down to give you a long, wet kiss before leaving the bed to look for a towel. After cleaning up, it doesn’t take long before you’re climbing under the covers, cuddling against Kirishima’s chest as his soft snores lull you to sleep.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro smut

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blissfulparker · 3 years

Text

Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee.

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

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rafescoke · 3 years

Note

hi ! i'm obsessed with your work ! <333 can i request a rafe cameron x reader

the reader is always there for rafe when he's sick or in trouble but rafe doesn't really show any reaction or gratitude from the reader's affection - but when reader goes sick (or nosebleed) he immediately begins to worry/make sure reader is okay. basically fluff !

August ; Cupcake! Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Read Cupcake if you haven't before you start this fic!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: In which Rafe cares more for the girl he likes rather than himself.

Warnings: Extreme fluff! Mentions of alcohols and drugs, Rafe Cameron being a complete sweetheart

A/N: After a week full of nothing but angst I've decided to give y'all what y'all have been screaming for; fluff. Thank you for all the love over my stories, I love you more than anything else in the world <3

p.s, I'm so sorry @blank-velvet if this isn't what you had in mind :(

"Hello, beautiful."

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, giving him a side smile as she locks her front door. "You're late today."

Rafe pouts, pulling her into a hug as he breathes into her scent. She doesn't smell like cupcakes anymore, thank god, because he can't take another few hours of flashbacks of him whisking the batter.

Turns out, the children's home becomes a fortnight habit for the both of them. They would bring so many cupcakes for the kids and spend the new 2 hours chatting and playing games.

Rafe hates to admit this, having to show the soft side of his, but he likes it. Every single bit of it; children telling him he's the best person in the world and how they like his frosting over (Y/N)'s because his were more 'unique'.

"Are you thinking of another girl?" (Y/N) teases, poking him by his side. Rafe looks down to her height with a shocked expression and shakes his head.

"Never."

"Yuck," she replies, but she's smiling. She keeps her hands in his, loving the way his fingers are wrapped around hers. His metal rings knock against hers, and she can feel the slight tightening every time the light turns red.

She wishes she can assure him that she'll never leave his side, no matter what happens. She knows how hard his life is for him, dealing with his family and his addiction, and she swears to be in his life until he's okay.

"I don't want you to leave once I'm okay."

"I don't mean it that way, Rafe. I'm just saying that if you decide to find anyone else after this whole bullshit ends, I'll be fine."

Rafe shook his head, "I don't want anyone else, (Y/N)."

"Now you're thinking of a guy," Rafe rolls his eyes playfully, turning into a corner before stopping directly before a fancy restaurant (Y/N) can't roll her tongue to call it. He steps out, helping her to her feet, and proceeds to give his car keys to the butler.

"You don't have to pay 30 dollars for valet parking," (Y/N) rolls her eyes. "I'm perfectly fine with walking a long distance, you know."

"Not in that heels," Rafe answers, pointing to her pink mules. "You'll get your dress dirty too."

Rafe escorts her to their table by the beach with her arms in his, and the couple never looked so beautiful. Rafe's hair is left messy today, since (Y/N) likes it that way, and anything that (Y/N) likes, Rafe will try to obey.

"We can eat at Fraiser's and I'll be happy, Rafe. This is too much."

Fraiser's is Obx's famous burger shop located in The Cut, and sometimes even the kooks would come down to the other side of the island to enjoy the food.

(Y/N) stares at the beach, hearing its calming waves and turns to Rafe. He's still admiring the view, his lips pulled into a charming smile, and (Y/N) has the urge to kiss him.

"I want to," he says. "I'm glad we met."

The candle burns brightly by the side of their table as he gazes into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them. Her (E/C) eyes are mesmerizing, and it had struck him.

"Stop. You're getting all mushy mushy."

The dinner is perfect. To (Y/N)'s surprise, Rafe had requested her favorite song to be played by the band earlier. When the starting melody to August by Taylor Swift starts playing, she's basically gaping at Rafe.

"Shut up! You did not!" she hits him on his arms as he laughs.

"I thought you'd like it," he shrugs, stuffing his mouth with the garlic bread. "Do you like it?"

"Are you crazy? I love it, Rafe!"

Before Rafe can process his mind to what she just said, she pulls him into a hug from the other side of the table, and the other diners glance at the sudden sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor and clanking of cutleries.

Rafe relaxes, "You're embarrassing us."

She pulls away, her face red, but Rafe holds her tightly.

"It's okay. I like it. Embarrass us even more, please."

(Y/N) feels like she's in heaven, soaring high above the clouds with Rafe by her side. Her life can't be more perfect; being in a close relationship with the boy he likes, doing so many things together she feels like they were married already.

Keyword: close relationship. He never proposes her to be his girlfriend, and she's too afraid to bring it up.

But whatever they're having now; she loves it. More than anything else in the world.

"Let's go to the beach."

"Okay," she giggles, gathering her clutch and her forgotten shoes somewhere under the table. She feels like leaving them, but the heels were one of the many presents from Rafe a few weeks ago, and she intends to keep them until the day she dies.

She stops, placing the clutch against his chest. "Have you paid?"

Rafe looks up to her, "Nah."

"Go pay."

"No."

"Rafe!" she widens her eyes, closing her mouth with her hands. "They'll catch us!"

"Not if we act like we've paid. Come on, they know me. They wouldn't suspect me of fleeing before paying."

She bites her lips nervously, but her heart is thumping wildly against her chest. Fleeing away from paying is never on her bucket list, but she always likes watching these kinds of scenes on the big screen.

"Okay. Fine."

"Okay, sweet. Come on."

He pulls her hands in his as he walks towards the exit. The waiter close to them bows, giving them his thank you, and when (Y/N) feels like they're safe, a loud voice from behind them shouts.

"Sir! Madam! Have you paid?"

(Y/N)'s grip around Rafe's hands tighten, but Rafe is a natural at lying. She wonders if he ever lied to her before.

"We have, a few minutes ago. This is a very bad moment for me and my wife, we are catching a flight back to Paris in an hour and you're wasting our time."

(Y/N) looks at him, gawking. His wife?

(Y/N) isn't sure if his lie would get them out of this situation, because his fake British accent does not sound anywhere near British and no English couple would spend their summer in a place like Obx.

The manager, (Y/N) assumes takes a step back, bowing down to them. When he looks up at them, he still has the curious glint in his eyes.

"Can I get your name?"

There's a long silence between them, and (Y/N)'s getting more and more nervous. "Coke." she blurts before she can stop herself.

"Coke?"

"That's her nickname, right, my love? It's not coke, my dear, it's Cookie," Rafe sighs and turns back to the manager. "I'm sorry. She had had a few drinks tonight."

"Sir," the same waiter that had muttered his thanks to them says, standing beside the stern manager. "They haven't paid."

"Run!" Rafe exclaims, running towards the exit with (Y/N) in his trail. There are shouts behind them, but they don't stop, running for dear life until the music from the band playing sounds a distance away.

Eventually, the gravel turns into sand, and they stop running. (Y/N) is the first one to laugh, throwing her head back and pulling him into a hug.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, Rafe, that's the best thing that has ever happened in my life!" she exclaims, placing her arms around his neck. The adrenaline from before is still flowing at a fast pace, and she never felt more alive.

Rafe smiles, catching his breath. He let her in his arms, smoothing her locks and lifting her slightly from the ground.

"Let's go in the water!" she says excitedly, pulling him towards the waves.

The cold saltwater pools around their ankles as they stand in the water, intertwining their fingers. (Y/N) looks up at him, watching as he stares at the darkness ahead.

She looks in the direction he's gawking at and sees the silhouette of a huge boat somewhere in the distance.

"What's wrong?" she asks, tugging at his hands.

"Someday, (Y/N), I'll bring you around the world."

She smiles. Always the charmer, that one.

"Rafe!" She suddenly shouts, bending down and letting the water soak her dress. "Something bit me!"

Rafe snaps back to reality, holding her in place and trying to find the mysterious creature in the water. Can a piranha get this far?

"I don't see-"

(Y/N) cuts him off by splashing the water at him, and he steps back with a shock.

"You'll regret doing that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not feeling anything."

"Get ready."

"For what?"

Rafe splashes her with a larger amount of water and uses the stalling time as she gasps and tries to get away from him by pulling her down into the water.

"This," he laughs, watching as she screams playfully. She's between his legs now as they sit peacefully, letting the water soak their expensive clothes.

"I'm sorry I'm ruining the dress you bought for me."

"It's okay. It's just Dior. Besides, I'll probably ruin it by-"

"Later," she cuts him off, placing her pointer on his lips to silence him. "Let's just watch the ocean."

And Rafe obliges.

A walk back to your home doesn't take long when you're in love. (Y/N) has Rafe's hands in hers, swaying them back and forth as they skip back to her apartment.

"I'm not going to be responsible for your car if it goes missing, Rafe."

He smiles, "It's okay. I have insurance."

She's on cloud nine; singing along to August and letting Rafe twirl her around under the night sky full of twinkling stars.

"I love this," she whispers, stopping midway. "Thank you, Rafe."

"For what?"

"Being the best."

He kisses her cheeks in response, "Always."

Just before they can continue their walk back to her apartment, a familiar blue mustang pulls up beside her, and Rafe pulls her to his other side in reflex.

He waits until the car window pulls down, revealing a half-drunk boy with his black hair messily slicked back.

(Y/N)'s breath hitches, and she pulls Rafe closer to her.

"What do you want?" Rafe sighs. "Can't you leave her alone?"

"Rafe," she whispers, pulling him in alarm. Out of all the time in the world, her ex-boyfriend decides to surprise them after a good night full of good memories.

Jack ignores Rafe and stares at (Y/N), smiling in a taunting way. "Hey, (Y/N), why are you all wet?"

"Rafe," she pulls him again.

"Come on, I'm just asking," he laughs. "I thought you liked getting wet."

"Fuck off," Rafe says, gritting his teeth. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, and he longs for the moment to connect his fist with his smug face.

"Aw, come on Rafe, you used to be so fun," Jack fakes pout, sighing. "Now you're all up in her ass. Does she feed you bone?"

Rafe steps forward, but (Y/N) quickly pulls him back.

"Does she beg you to go to the some children's shit too?"

Rafe stalks forward again before (Y/N) can help it, and launches Jack's car door open. He topples over from leaning over and not wearing the seatbelt, and Rafe uses the chance to throw him on the road.

"Wanna talk shit again, asshole?" Rafe yells, pushing him as he staggers backward. Jack clutches onto his chest, holding a hand up and moving backward.

(Y/N) cries, waiting for Rafe to come back. As Rafe turns away to go with her, Jack takes the free time to bring him down to the road again and throws a punch against his face.

"Jack! Let him go, please!"

Rafe groans, feeling his bones cracking, but he's too fueled by the snickering Jack had made toward (Y/N). He turns him over and continues his punches against the thrashing boy.

(Y/N) pulls Rafe's arms, not wanting him to get hurt, but the pull is so strong that when he finally lets go of Jack, she topples backward and falls straight on her bottom.

He gushes out beside her, "You're okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you!"

Jack scatters into his car again, muttering a curse word under his breath and saying something along the lines of 'I'll get back at you, Cameron' before speeding off into the night.

(Y/N) groans, rubbing her legs and turns to Rafe. She gasps, holding his face in her hands. "Oh my god! Your nose, Rafe!"

Rafe grunts, pushing her hands away. "I'm fine. It's just a nosebleed. You scraped your thighs!"

"Just the side of them," she mumbles, glancing at the ripped part of her used-to-be beautiful midnight blue dress. "Let me see your nose."

"No."

"Please."

He sighs and lets her examine his broken nose. His eyes are red, and (Y/N)'s sure there's some kind of a broken blood vessel in there, and there are bruises starting to form under his eyes.

To compare with her pain, Rafe is a hundred times worse.

"Jesus Christ, we have to get you to the hospital."

"No!" Rafe exclaims, pulling her hands away from his place. "No, please. I hate hospitals, you know I do. Let's just get home."

(Y/N) sighs, knowing there's no way she can win this fight against Rafe and helps him to his feet. She staggers backward, feeling the sudden pain coursing through her from the gash on her side.

"Oh god, you're losing so much blood."

"No, I'm not. I'm perfectly fine. It's just a scratch," she bites her lips.

"Let me carry you." he stops her.

"No! You're an idiot. If anything, I'm the one who's supposed to carry you," she rolls her eyes and turns to look at him again. "Rafe, you're crying blood. Let's get to the hospital."

"I'm not, I just drink too much red wine."

"It doesn't work that way. Please, Rafe? I'll be there with you the whole time."

Rafe sighs, and after a long time of thinking and weighing his options, he nods.

"If they start telling me to open my clothes, I'll head out. I will only remove my clothes from you tonight."

He can still joke around at a time like this?

(Y/N) bites her lips, "You will do exactly what the doctor says."

"You're my doctor," he shrugs. "Be my doctor?"

(Y/N) decides, with Rafe limping beside her, walking towards the hospital will be the stupidest idea ever. She orders an Uber, and before the driver can ask why they're booking to go to the hospital at 11p.m. on a Friday, he speeds away when he sees the sight of Rafe.

"It's not too late to just go home," Rafe mumbles against her neck. Her hair tickles his nose, but he likes it like that.

He feels safe. Protected.

"We're not sleeping in my apartment tonight."

"Can I still make love to you in the hospital?"

"We'll think about it."

(Y/N) pays the driver, muttering her thanks, and attends to a groaning Rafe again. One of his eyes is shut, and the other is fighting its best to stay awake.

The EMTs grab a wheelchair for Rafe as soon as she pulls him in through the automatic door, and when (Y/N) finally lets go of him, he shouts over the loud orders of the workers.

"She needs to stay with me or I'll die!"

One of the technicians looks at (Y/N), and she sighs. "I'm sorry. We got into a fight, and I think he's just not thinking straight right now."

She nods and asks (Y/N) to wait for him in the waiting room.

Half an hour later, with a coffee from the 24 hours cafeteria near the emergency room in her hands, the doctor finally calls for her attention. She stands up, her dress sticking to her bloody wound, and she winces from the pain.

"Why didn't you tell us!" the doctor sighs, pulling her into the same room he brought Rafe in. Rafe isn't in there, and (Y/N) can't help but search around.

"He's okay. He's sleeping. He's suffering from subconjunctival hemorrhage. It's nothing serious, really, but we decided to keep him under our watch for one day."

(Y/N) nods, slightly relieved, and let the doctor removes her skirt so he can take a better look at her wound.

He clicks his tongue, "What's your name?"

"(Y/N)."

"Okay, (Y/N), we called for your boyfriend's parents and they'll be here in an hour. Do you have any parents I can contact?"

"I'm okay. I'm not suffering from any hemorrhage."

The doctor sighs, "I know. But you just confessed to being in a fight, so I have to get the parents involved. It's protocol."

Fuck.

(Y/N) mumbles out her brother's phone number, and she hopes against hope he's out with his friends and getting drunk so that she wouldn't have to face her family.

"Okay. Do you want to see your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend. But yes, I want to see Rafe."

(Y/N) holds out his hands as she sits beside his sleeping form. She smiles, grazing her fingers across his soft skin as he breathes peacefully.

"I'm awake now."

She pulls her hands away, gasping slightly at his tired voice.

"Come on, hold me again."

She rolls her eyes, but her fingers are around his again. "We look so corny."

"I know. Wanna know something cornier?"

"What?"

"Take that thing out of my pocket. No, not that, that's my dick, (Y/N), my pocket, yes, yes, take that box out."

(Y/N) holds out the small box in her hands, letting the white light from above illuminate the box. Her face is still red at the mention of accidentally touching his private part, but she's more intrigued by the box now.

"Open it," he says softly.

(Y/N) hesitates, and pops the box open. She gasps, having a small diamond glinting back at her.

"Do you like it?"

"You did not, Rafe, oh my god."

"Wear it. Wait, fuck, I messed it up. Wait, wait, let me just-" he sighs, trying to sit up, but (Y/N) stops him midway. "Would you like to be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?"

She looks up at him, her eyes teary now, because God, no one has ever done this to her.

"Would you?"

"Of course, asshole, even when you're asking me in the middle of your deathbed."

He smiles, "Okay. Now you can put the ring on."

She slides the ring on her ring finger, holding her hand up and admiring the way the ring compliments her hands.

She loves it. More than anything.

"Oh, and they called Ward and Rose. I'm sorry it's going to be your first time being my girlfriend and meeting them."

She laughs, leaning over him and placing a longing kiss on his lips. He kisses her back, feeling so much better now he can walk out of this hospital.

"You're like a princess. Nursing me back to health. None of these Harvard graduate doctors can compare to you."

"Urgh, shut up," she rolls her eyes. "Now you're pushing it."

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia @alwaysclassyeagle @rottenstyx @wxn-drlst

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron fluff #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #rafe cameron imagines #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks one shot

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

that kind of morning, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You’re really bad at waking up. Big sleepyhead with foggy memory kind of bad. Your brain is on autopilot. Hm, kind of hard to pilot when everything seems out of place. And you’re mildly hungover. Ow. You just ran into a muscular chest. Who could that be?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; morning after a wild night; graphic descriptions of sexual acts and a tiny bit of smut–while on the phone (fem reader, nipple play, dry humping, hint of a handjob); non-idol!BTS; basically sleepy and slightly hungover reader trying to piece together life lmao

–

Most people make their worst decisions at night.

Not you. You make your worst decisions in the morning.

Maybe it's because you don't drink coffee.

"Ow!"

Was your bed always that high? Huh. You squinted in the sunlight filtering through the window, far too bright for your sensitive eyes. Instead, you occupied yourself with sniffing the t-shirt you were wearing. It smelled clean, like fabric softener. Also, it was white. Generally, you didn't buy white shirts since they dirtied easily. A miracle that this one wasn't stained.

You stumbled through the bedroom door – was it always that far? – and smacked your nose into a wall.

"Ow!"

"Ah!"

A moving wall. Wait, not a wall. A shirtless guy. Oh. It had been that kind of night.

You rubbed your nose. "Erm, hello. You're still here, huh?" you mumbled.

The guy blinked at you. "What do you mean? This is my apartment."

Oh. That's why everything seemed unfamiliar. Now that you looked at him, he was pretty attractive. Long dark hair, large brown eyes, dark brows, shapely pink lips with a mole underneath his lower lip. He had two more on his nose and cheek. Lightly tanned skin and a cute confused face. Huh. Nice muscles too. Good for him.

"Alright, I'll be on my way then, uh..." you trailed off awkwardly, pushing past him. The events of last night were hazy and your head hurt a little, although not so bad that you couldn't function. You were just poorly functioning because you weren't a morning person.

"Do you want coffee or something?" the guy asked, following you. He sounded a little worried.

"Nah, I don't drink coffee," you muttered, holding onto the wall as you walked down the unfamiliar narrow hallway. "Stains your teeth."

Speaking of teeth, your breath was probably awful. Hopefully that poor guy didn't breathe near you. Come to think of it, this wasn't what you were wearing last night. It was probably his shirt, considering the large size. Where were your clothes? Oh, look, a bathroom.

"I could order us some breakfast," the guy continued as you stuck your head into the bathroom and saw the sink. There was a black toothbrush and a crumpled tube of toothpaste, definitely not yours. A black cup for rinsing one's mouth, with a winking emoji printed on it. A black shirt bunched up and half-falling off the sink. Deodorant. Cologne. You picked it up and sniffed it. A clean scent. Didn't make you want to throw up. Awesome.

You flicked on the faucet and shoved your hands under it. Cold. Fuck. Whatever. You cupped some and brought your hands to your face, dripping water everywhere, and cursing under your breath before gargling some. Best you could do. You spied something red out of the corner of your eye. What was that? You squinted at the towel rack through the mirror, water trickling down your chin. There was a thin scrap of ripped lace fabric on the hanging white towels.

The guy was still talking.

"I can get you a spare toothbrush? Do you want some cleanser to wash your face?"

He had a pleasant voice, a little deep. Clear, smooth. Made you think of a cool, refreshing breeze.

Wait.

Were those your red panties on the towel rack?

You winced at the mirror. Welp. Those were done for. Didn't look like you could salvage them. You suddenly felt a chilly draft on your bare ass. Your arms were still dripping water as you leaned down and splashed your cheeks. Guess you'll just have to figure something out. You turned off the water and wiped your face off with your palm. A white hand towel appeared. You took it, seeing the guy's tattooed hand and arm. Sexy. He had an emoji tattooed onto his knuckle of a sheepish, crooked smile.

Kind of looked like you, at the moment.

You dried your face and hands.

"Thanks, but it's fine, I'll just go home so I don't bother you," you said, folding the towel and placing it on the sink before moving past him and his curious expression.

"You're not bothering me. I want to make your morning comfortable."

You noticed your red dress from last night on the ground. The thin straps were torn off and there was a distinct, dark stain down the front. Hmm. You vaguely remembered scooping your tits out and smashing them against his hard dick and dropping a stream of spit down your chest for lubrication before furiously tit-fucking him and making him cum all over your collarbones and neck.

Ah.

Well.

That dress was fucked.

"Can I borrow this shirt? I'll give it back," you said, turning around to see the guy's face bright pink, staring at your dress on the ground.

"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever you want," he rambled, shifting awkwardly. He was wearing light gray sweatpants. You looked down. He shifted away quickly, but it was pretty hard to disguise that tent.

You scratched your head. Hm. "Say, uh..." you trailed off again.

He blinked with those big chocolatey eyes. "Oh, um, Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook."

He stuck his hand out. You shook it, fitting your hand in his, suddenly remembering when you grabbed it and put it between your legs, smearing your juices from his wrist to his forearm and grinding onto his muscle, flexing your opening on his skin as he moaned darkly into your ear.

Ah.

You let go.

You were probably past handshakes, but, oh well?

"Right, erm, Jungkook, do you know where my jacket is?" you asked sheepishly.

Jungkook whipped his head around, sending his black hair flying everywhere. "I think... it's in the living room?" You remembered running your hands through that hair, panting in his face as he shoved you against the wall, two fingers on your clit and rubbing furiously, those big chocolate eyes watching you come undone under him.

He moved past you and you flattened against the wall, not touching him. Hm. This increased clarity as you continued to wake up was starting to make this more and more, uh... less chill? Weird? Awkward? You followed him at a slight distance, lifting your head to see his back. Your eyes widened. Long red scratches up and down his defined back, caused by your fingernails as he fucked you violently into his bed, your thighs clasped around his waist and his name in your mouth, his thick cock making your pussy so tight and full that you felt like you were going to explode, so completely jammed with pleasure that you couldn't stop moaning.

Erm. Hm. You kind of needed panties with the sudden leakage happening down there.

Oh shit, did you use protection? You frowned as you screwed up your eyes to think. Yes. You did. Jungkook had grabbed them from his nightstand and spilled the whole box, thus causing you both to scramble to detach one in your and his haste.

For.

Er.

Fucking like animals.

You both got one condom and ended up using both.

"Ah, here."

You reached out and took your long-line black leather jacket from Jungkook. That's right. You'd worn that red satin dress with this jacket and black high heels. You spied them by the mat at what you assumed was the front door. Jungkook wasn't looking at you. His face was red. You slipped on the jacket. Smelled the rum still sticking to it. Right. You went to the club, got a drink, and Jungkook had knocked into you, spilling it into your jacket. It was an accident, but that was fine, because Jungkook was hot and you bribed him into talking to you by asking him to buy you another drink.

Super cute with his apologies, nervously speaking to you all night before loosening up with a few drinks and beginning to tease you, little by little, until you were in his apartment, getting your jacket slipped off your shoulders and his mouth on your newly exposed skin.

The memory made you reach up to touch your left shoulder. You winced. Peered under the jacket and shirt to see a giant purple hickey.

"Oh... er, sorry..." Jungkook sputtered sheepishly. "You seemed really into it at the time."

There was damn waterfall between your legs now.

"I was," you replied, a little too quickly. "Uh, I mean, I am. Was great."

You facepalmed. Jungkook jumped, startled that you slapped your own face.

"Sorry, I'm not a morning person. What I meant to say was last night was amazing and I had a great time," you sighed. "You were wonderful. And hot. And sexy. And I'd do it again."

Jungkook blinked at you with those big chocolatey eyes.

"O... oh."

He seemed torn on whether to believe you or not. To be fair, your voice was hoarse and you sounded half-dead. Plus, your speech was a little cliché. Sigh. You struggled to retain brain function, shaking your head roughly. It always took you a long time to wake up and it was worse when you weren't home doing your usual routine. You furrowed your brows, raising your head to frown at Jungkook.

Hold on.

"Don't you work for my dad?"

Jungkook started, eyes shifting.

"Er... yeah."

Did you just fuck one of the waiters at your dad's high-end restaurant? All night?

Huh.

What are the chances?

You were going to have to see Jungkook later that night, since you were the hostess.

"You know, Jungkook," you said, realizing why you had spoken to him last night, why it was fun and familiar banter, why he was so cute to you, and why it had been such a good chance. "Let's not tell my dad about this."

Jungkook's eyes went shifty again. "Yeeeeeeeah... let's not."

Your dad meant well. He was loud and brash by nature and scared every human being that hadn't lived under his roof for decades. Speaking of living under his roof... Maybe you shouldn't go home smelling like rum and Jungkook's cologne, wearing his t-shirt and no panties.

"You... sure you wanna go home?" Jungkook asked, chewing on his lip. You noticed he looked a bit disappointed. Sad.

"Actually," you sheepishly began. "Maybe I shouldn't. Not until Papa leaves the house." You twisted your mouth to one side and poked your index fingers together. Awkward. "Your offer for breakfast still stands?"

He brightened. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. What do you want?" He held up the phone form the coffee table. "We can order something."

Your eyes shifted to the phone. Ten missed calls.

"I would call Papa first," you muttered, walking forward and taking the phone from him. You felt his body heat, the closeness of his bare torso. He smelled nice. Jungkook made a surprised noise, only now realizing he had picked up your phone by accident. You slipped your other arm around him and pulled him to you, inhaling his scent. He made another squeak of confusion as you pressed your lips to his warm chest.

Mmm. Nice.

You phone vibrated violently and you answered it without looking, kissing Jungkook's skin softly, hearing him gasp and stifle his moan as the sharp bark of your name blasted from the phone speaker.

"Where are you?!" Your dad was yelling at the top of his lungs. Jungkook shivered under you. He probably thought your dad was pissed, but he was only worried.

"I'm fine. Slept over at a friend's since I went to the bars last night."

"Oh, fuck, sheesh," your dad grumbled, swearing repeatedly. Your lips began to travel and Jungkook was smacking your arm impatiently, shaking his head, mouthing at you, are you crazy, what the fuck are you doing, before he clenched his jaw and tipped his head back as you began to lazily lick his dark nipple, feeling it harden with your touch.

"Are you eating?" your dad barked in your ear.

"Mhm, can't start the day unless you eat," was your reply, grinning around Jungkook's nipple as his face was becoming more panicked by the second.

"That's right," your dad huffed. "What are you eating?"

"Korean."

Jungkook gave you an exasperated, pained look that quickly turned to ecstasy, placing a hand over his mouth and muffling his moan as you sucked in his nipple, bringing your hips into his sweatpants, the tent returning.

"Hah, fine, would it kill you to fucking call so I don't think you're dead?" Now that you were an adult, your dad didn't bother filtering his cursing anymore.

"Ah, sorry, sorry," you replied, very apologetically and sweetly, grabbing a handful of Jungkook's ass and ramming his rock-hard cock into your crotch, clamping your thighs around it. Jungkook was flailing his one free hand and pressing the other over his mouth, trying not to make a fucking sound.

"I'll remember next time. Promise, Papa."

You heard your dad let out a puff of air. "Hmph. Fine. Don't forget you have to work tonight. I'll let you have the day after off..."

You raised your eyebrows, switching sides and slowly flicking your tongue on Jungkook's nipple, thighs sliding back and forth on Jungkook's clothed length. He was losing it above you, muting his cries and rutting against your thighs to match your pace and add more simulation.

"I thought the other hostess was on vacation for a couple more days?"

"I asked your mother to cover for you," your dad grunted. "You should have some free time while you're still young. Have some fucking fun before you die. That's why I work."

"Ah... okay, thanks Papa. I love you."

"Love you too," was your dad's reply, not so gruff anymore, but warmer and kinder.

He hung up.

You dropped the phone from your ear.

Jungkook gasped a lungful of air, throwing his hand aside now that he could finally breathe, turning into a high-pitched yelp when you yanked his pants down, shoving his cock between your thighs again, but skin on skin this time, angling him down, the head smearing pre-cum in your mid-thigh. Ah, yes, what a pleasant surprise it had been when you saw this pretty cock for the first time, looking so perfect squashed between your tits.

"B-But breakfast..." he choked out between moans.

"I'm getting it," you panted, grinning, sliding up and down his hot stiffness, feeling it twitch. "Best to have some protein in the morning."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, horny and indignant.

"Korean? Really?"

You switched to your hand, kneeling down as you stroked his stiff length hard and fast, giving him a devilish open-mouthed smirk, wet tongue sliding out.

"Hey, I didn't lie."

wondering how Jungkook feels about all this? that kind of evening.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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miyagihawk · 3 years

Text

why’d you only call me when you’re high? pt. 2 | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

part one

here’s part 2 by popular demand! based off the arctic monkeys song and amazing request by @deadbeatharlz <3 thank you guys for the support on part 1 im so happy you liked it :)

warnings: self harming behavior, LOTS of swearing, alcohol and drug abuse, sooo so angstyyyy buckle up

summary: it’s been 3 months since your last night with hawk, and you haven’t been yourself.

word count: 3,062

The past 3 months have been rough. Maybe the worst you’ve ever been. You fell into the deep hole that you dug yourself. The hole of loving Hawk Moskowitz.

You never thought you’d be one of those people who let unrequited love devastate their whole being. In fact you always thought the whole heartbreak thing was pathetic and melodramatic. Until it happened to you.

You hate yourself for letting him have this effect on you. But there’s a pestering voice in the back of your mind that reminds you: it’s all your fault. He didn’t ask you to love him. It’s just easier to blame him for your downfall.

Parties, drugs, alcohol. Sex with people you don’t even know. High on the same drug that compelled him to call you in the night.

You’ve become so desperate to forget him that you ruined yourself. It hurts your pride to be the whiny heartbroken girl who let a stupid boy’s rejection shatter her self worth. But the hole is too deep and there’s no hope trying to grasp onto the dirt walls to get out.

The worst part of it is that he sees it all. At school, (if you even go) he looks at you like the scum of the earth as he passes by with his little karate gang. When you end up at the same party, he’ll have a disgusted expression on his face and leave as if he can’t bare to look at you.

Tonight is one of those nights, and you watch him from across the backyard as he goofs around with his friends. He hasn’t noticed you yet, hence why he’s even still here and not on his way out the door to get away from you.

“If you stare at him any longer, I think he’ll shoot up into flames,” your best friend Robby hands you a cup, and you don’t hesitate before downing its unknown contents. The burn in your throat makes you hum with content.

“That’s the plan,” you take your eyes of off Hawk to look at Robby. You gesture to his own cup in his hand, “Are you gonna drink that?”

“Easy there, Y/N. We got here 5 minutes ago,” he warns, but holds out the drink towards you anyway. Robby’s always been worried about you and your habits, but he knows how you can be when you’re told no.

You swallow down the drink in a few seconds, ignoring his remark. “5 minutes? I can beat my record!” you cheer sarcastically, and start walking to the kitchen in search of a keg. Robby follows closely behind you, a wary look on his face.

The fuzzy feeling starts to take over your body as you throw back drink after drink. It’s the buzz you crave every second of every day because it just makes you feel so good. Everything is happier and your cares feel so far away. Hawk feels so far away.

You sit on the couch next to Robby in your dazed trance, drunkenly rambling to him about random things. He glares at anyone who comes near you and looks like they would take advantage of you in your state.

Robby really hates you like this, but he can’t help but feel protective over you. He’s not even a fan of parties; he really only goes to keep an eye on you. You’re grateful even though you act like you hate it when he babysits you.

“Heyyy pretty Y/N! Want some?” Yasmine approaches where you sit, a joint held between her fingers. Her eyes are drooped and she sways as she stands.

You reach out to take the blunt, but you feel Robby push your arm down. “You’re already drunk. That’s enough,” he says sternly, making you roll your eyes.

“I can do what I want, Dad,” you taunt, and take the joint from Yasmine. Smoke fills up your lungs, immediately giving you pleasure. Robby just shakes his head in disapproval as the air around him becomes hazy.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Stay here,” he orders, getting up from the couch.

You nod, but of course, you don’t listen. The sound of splashing from outside sets off a lightbulb above your head and you feel like you’re floating while you walk to the backyard.

Right as you step out of the house, you make eye contact with none other than Hawk. He gives you a distasteful look like always, before turning back to his group. Asshole.

You just scoff and stumble towards the pool, where a couple is making out and a few people are drunkenly playing with the water like little kids.

Reaching the edge of the pool’s rim, you let yourself fall in with a splash. You feel the pressure in your ears start to build as you sink to the bottom. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re cross faded, but being underwater feels like a world of bliss.

The loud music of the party is muted, creating a sense of serenity. The legs of the other people in the pool make you laugh to yourself, sending bubbles from your mouth to the surface. It’s glittery and pretty and you want to stay forever.

You don’t know how long you’re under there for, but you don’t notice your lungs running out of air. It just feels good to be alone for a second. Next thing you know, you feel your eyes start to droop closed; a strange peace overcoming your body.

A loud thrashing noise in the water makes you wake up with a gasp. You swallow too much water as you feel someone grab hold of your arm. It’s all a blur and you’re being pulled up to the surface, taking you away from the tranquil world you were just in.

The music is pounds against your ears again and the air is cold on your skin. You feel your body being laid down on the concrete of the poolside, but everything feels numb. You just feel sleepy and you want to close your eyes again.

“Y/N, hey, wake up. Wake up,” a voice makes your eyes shoot back open. Someone is looking down at you, with a hand shaking your shoulder. Your vision is somewhat blurry, but the mohawk gives it away. It’s him.

You suddenly become aware of the large amount of water in your lungs and you turn over to your side to cough it up. After you get it all out, you notice the people at the party looking at you with eyes of pity mixed with judgement.

“What the fuck were you doing? You could’ve died, are you fucking stupid?” Hawk curses, but even in your inebriated state you can hear a hint of worry in his voice.

You sit up to face him. He looks angry; his clothes and hair are as wet as yours.

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen in your brain, or maybe it’s the marijuana and alcohol, but you just feel the urge to laugh. So you do. Like a complete maniac. The way he probably just saved your life like he cares is sickly comedic to you.

His face twists in confusion as you break out into a fit of giggles. “Are you serious? You’re fucking insane, Y/N,” he gets up, shaking his head at you. He gives a glare to the people staring, and they look away in fear.

You think he’s going to leave like usual, but he surprises you by grabbing your arm to pull you up. People whisper amongst themselves as he drags you through the backyard, going through a gate that leads to front of the house. You trip over your own feet, still feeling dizzy from almost drowning, but he just pulls you along.

“What are you doing?” you ask, tugging on your arm to try and release it from the tight grip he has on you. You’re both dripping chlorinated water, leaving a track of drops on the concrete below.

“You’re going home Y/N,” he says sternly. You two arrive at his car and he opens the passenger door. “Get in.”

“Hey!” a voice yells from the house and you both turn to see Robby rushing towards the car. He looks pissed, and now you remember him telling you to stay put. Shit.

“Robby I-”

“Don’t get in there with him Y/N,” he says, sending a death stare to the boy next to you.

“I’m taking her home, Keene, so back the fuck off. Get in Y/N,” Hawk snaps, clenching his fists.

You keep quiet, not wanting to add to the fire already starting. They loathe each other; if not because of the karate rivalry, then because of you. To Robby, Hawk broke your heart and made you spiral. To Hawk, Robby is the piece of shit who he thinks is your boyfriend, and he won’t admit it but he’s jealous.

“You’re not driving her, asshole. You’re probably as drunk as her,” Robby reaches to take your arm, but Hawk pulls you back.

“You don’t know shit about me, Keene. I’ve been sober for three months, so yeah, I will drive her,” Hawk picks you up like you’re a doll, placing you in the passenger seat and closing the door. You don’t resist, you just feel tired and your head starts to pound as if the mix of drugs in your system are punishing you. The window’s down, so you can still hear the two boys loud and clear.

I’ve been sober for three months, his voice echoes in your head.

“Oh so now you care so much about her? It’s your fault she’s like this!” Robby raises his voice even more, starting to move towards Hawk threateningly. You begin to feel scared that a physical fight might actually break out, but you don’t know what to do.

“I’m not the one who almost let her die a few minutes ago, am I? Just fuck off, we’re leaving,” Hawk dismisses him, walking around the car to the driver’s seat. You’re surprised by his self control to not throw a punch, especially with his reputation.

“Robby, it’s okay. I just want to go home. I’ll call you, alright?” you reach your hand out of the window in reassurance and he takes hold of it. Hawk clenches his jaw as he turns on the engine.

“Promise you’ll be careful? I’m sorry I left you,” Robby furrows his eyebrows in worry. When he came out of the bathroom, someone filled him in on what happened to you and he almost had a heart attack.

“Promise. And it’s my fault,” you hook your pinky with his, before the car pulls out of the curb and separates you from your best friend. He watches you guys drive away, an anxious expression etched on his face.

The whole situation has sobered you up pretty well, and now you’re left with a throbbing headache, wet clothes, and awkward tension. You hate it. Being sober. You miss the foggy feeling that prevents you from thinking too hard about things. But now you’re inches away from the boy who broke your heart, all by choice.

You don’t know why you agreed to go with him, but did you even have a choice? You’re confused by his actions. He acts like he hates you but he jumps in a pool for you. He yelled at you but he’s driving you home. It all makes you overthink and it causes your head to ache even more.

You hold your head in your hands to try and ease the pain as Hawk drives quietly.

“You good?” he breaks the silence. His voice is softer compared to how he talked to Robby minutes ago.

“Head hurts,” you mumble.

“What were you doing back there? If I didn’t get you out, you’d probably be in the hospital right now,” he says. You peek at him through your hands and his eyes are on the road.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It was just peaceful. I didn’t really even think about breathing.”

He scoffs. “Well that’s just fucking stupid. You’re lucky I noticed you were under for so long.”

“Well thanks,” you reply quietly, feeling like a little kid being scolded.

There’s a couple beats of silence before he speaks, “What happened to you?”

The question makes you sit up and look over at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The old Y/N wouldn’t even touch a drink. You’re different,” Hawk taps his finger on the wheel in thought. His icy blue eyes quickly glance at your confused look before returning to the road.

“You happened, Hawk.” You pinch your temples in frustration. Anger starts to bubble up in your stomach at his criticism. At the mention of “old you”.

“I didn’t do this to you,” he shakes his head, as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

“You did,” you raise your voice, making him flinch. “You know it.”

“What, because I stopped sleeping with you? I didn’t make you fall in love with me, Y/N. You did that to yourself,” he spits, sending a knife to your heart and making you see red.

“You knew I loved you way before I said it. But you still stringed me along, didn’t you? You knew I would pick up everytime you called. You knew that I would let you into my bed because I was the girl who loved you no matter how fucking shitty you were!” you fire back, vomiting out words that you’ve wanted to say for months. The alcohol in your system makes you bolder than usual, but you’re grateful for it.

He’s at a loss for words at your outburst so you continue, “I didn’t ask for this Hawk. Loving you. I’m sorry that I’m such a burden and that you hate me so much that you can’t stand being in the same room as me. But please just answer me this and I’ll leave you alone forever. I’ll leave when we show up at the same party and I’ll even hide in the halls so you don’t have to see my face.”

You pause, choking on your words. You didn’t even realize that the car is already parked in front of your house and your clothes are halfway dry.

“Why don’t you love me?” your voice cracks as you spit out the question that has caused you to throw yourself away. The question with an answer that could dissipate your self worth in a mere moment.

Hawk finally looks into your glassy eyes with shock. He could’ve never anticipated what you asked him and his mouth runs dry.

“I told you, I- I don’t deserve someone like you loving me,” he swallows, but you shake your head.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He blinks slowly, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse, to avoid telling you the truth. You can see the inner conflict on his face, the panicked speed of his running thoughts.

“You should go home, Y/N,” he deflects, turning away from you. Putting on his mask to keep you from reading him like a book.

“I’m not going until you tell me,” you demand.

“Just get out of the car, fuck!” Hawk yells, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel. It makes you jump a little, but you’re too angry to fear the flames in his eyes.

“Why can’t you just tell me!” you fire back. “You came to me almost every night, so why do I feel something that you don’t? Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?”

“What do you want me to fucking say Y/N! That I do love you? Fucking fine. I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear? Just get out.”

I love you.

The same words you said that made him leave.

“You don’t even mean that,” you blink back your tears.

His voice is softer now, more gentle. “If I didn’t mean it then I wouldn’t have said it.”

“You said you needed me and then you left me,” your voice shakes and you hate how pathetic you sound.

“I-I didn’t leave you,” he stammers before taking a deep breath. “I left because you wanted something more than I could give you. I would’ve felt like a selfish asshole if we became more than just sex, Y/N. You deserve someone like Keene and yeah he’s a pussy but he’s good. Better than me.”

It feels like every piece in the puzzle is being put together. Everything makes sense. He does love you, but he was just afraid. He can’t be near you because it hurts too much to see someone he can’t have. Somehow, you can’t find the anger you’ve held against him for these past months; you just understand him now.

“I’m sorry, alright? For everything. For treating your feelings like shit. All of it.”

You swallow, thinking about his words. It all feels too much and the truth is now looking you in the eye, demanding an answer. You love him, but he dropped your heart on the floor for you to pick up every shard. Is one sorry going to magically fix everything?

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit, and he nods in understanding.

“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just... move on. And you get better... I hate seeing you like this,” Hawk scans your red eyes and dilated pupils. “We’ll get to a better place and you and me, we’ll be good.”

It’s bittersweet, but he’s right. Being together now just because he loves you back would be a huge jump that would only end in broken hearts and toxic cycles. It would be foolish. As much as you want him, the only person who can fix you is yourself.

So it’s a meet up at the top of the mountain, when you’ve both made the journey from opposite sides.

“A better place,” you reiterate, before placing a light kiss to his cheek and leaving the car with a new sense of closure.

a/n: that was longer than i planned and a freaking roller coaster!!!!!!! im not sure if there should be a part 3? lmk what you think maybe it’ll just be short. but hehe i added robby into the mix he was so cute. ty for reading!

taglist for people who wanted part 2 :) ty friends for the support <3 @littlered6307 @deadbeatharlz @spiderman-berries @axastasiasstuff @r0-xie @estupidteen @hawkwhore @idkwhatishouldput4

#eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobrakai #hawk moskowitz

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impactofthegenshin · 3 years

Text

dark dreams and wild love

how the bois will take care of you after a nightmare wakes you up from your sleep

characters : zhongli, childe and diluc

reader : gn!reader

warnings : mentions of death, blood and gore (?)

a/n : this took too long, i was busy in schoolwork. hopefully, the other stuff will be done quickly

Zhongli

you were falling

falling into an endless void, your hands reaching out to grab something but couldn’t

there were voices

voices calling you out, but you couldn’t do anything

then came hands, dragging you with them

you were screaming and thrashing, but they dragged you down down down down-

you jolted awake, gulping down night cool air and drenched with sweat

zhongli was up in an instant, strong hands supporting you as he made soothing circles on your back

you leaned into him, trembling from the nightmare and shivering with cold

“same dream again dear?”

you nod, unable to form words

he sighed and pulled you closer, running his hands through your hair

you don’t know how much time passed, but the trembling stopped

noticing that, zhongli got up but you held his arm tightly

“don’t....don’t leave”

“i’m not leaving dear, just going to the kitche-”

“then..i’m coming too”

you stood up, but zhongli was faster and lifted you in his arms

a gasp left your lips, which soon turned into a giggle

you rest your head against his shoulder as he walks out to the kitchen

putting you down on the countertop, he gets to work

you stare at him, his hands flying around the ingredients, every movement precise and sharp

after a while, a sweet aroma wafts to you

inhaling the sugary scent deeply, you find zhongli holding a steaming cup of tea in his hands

he holds it out to you

“drink this y/n, it’ll help”

“thank you zhongli”

you get down, then lean up to peck his lips softly

he almost drops the cup in surprise, the liquid splashing around

you take the cup from his hands as zhongli tries to compose himself

sipping the tea, you sigh as the liquid warms your insides

"this does feel better"

zhongli's eyes sparkle with satisfaction, knowing the tea had worked

finishing in an instant, you sway on your feet, sleep hitting you

keeping the empty cup aside, zhongli lifts you again

you almost sleep against him, his hair tickling your face

keeping you down on the bed, he covers you with a blanket and lies down next to you

you lean back against him, your back pressed against his chest as he wraps his arms around you

"wake me up dear, if you feel uncomfortable again"

you nod, trying and failing to keep your eyes open

"i love you y/n" zhongli whispers in your ear as you fall asleep in his arms

Childe

you could see them

your twin

kneeling, face twisted in agony

they looked up at you, face bloodied and battered

you couldn’t do anything

not as your legs worked on their own, kicking them in the chest

not as they coughed up blood, their face contorting in horror

you couldn’t do anything as you raised your sword, to strike them down

someone was screaming your name

maybe it was the person kneeling in front of you

maybe it was...it was..

you opened your eyes, childe looking down at you, eyes wild

“y/n are you alright?”

you got up, clinging to childe and sitting in his lap

surprise lit his face but he didn't say anything as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer

wrapping his arms around you, he held you against his chest

"i...i was there..."

your voice was hoarse, as if you had been screaming

childe didn't say anything but listened, stroking your back

"i could...see them..but i couldn't...do anything...."

tears ran down your face, falling onto your boyfriend’s shirt

he sat up straighter, wiping away your wet cheeks

“you were screaming in your sleep y/n...i got...scared”

you looked down at the bed, the sheets were astray and crumpled

sighing, you slump down to childe’s chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm in your ears

“how long have you had these nightmares?”

“this is the second...or third time”

“and you never told me?”

you can hear the worry in his voice, wondering how many times he hadn’t been able to help you

“i always slept through them. but tonight....was bad”

he yawned into your hair, making you realize you had woken him up

“wait i was screaming?”

“yes, real loud at that. people really must be thinking something else”

you don’t understand what he meant, his eyes twinkling with mischief

then it hit you

“childe!” you smack him hard on the shoulder as he laughs

you heave an exasperated sigh, trying to contain the heat rising to your face

he laughs harder

“you should see yourself y/n, your face is as red as a pyro vision”

taking a pillow, you hit him right across his face, making him yelp

“ho ho y/n, you are so gone”

pillow in hand, you scramble away from him, laughing

he chases you around the room before catching you by the waist and pulling you closer

he throws you over his shoulder, dancing around

“childe! put me down!” “you have to apologize first”

“no” “fine then, i can do this all night”

“no no! ugh fine, i’m sorry”

he puts you down on the bed gently

you pull him down with you, wrapping your arms around him

resting your head against his chest, you realized how sleepy and tired you were

chuckling, he kisses your forehead, coaxing you to sleep

you don’t argue with him, falling asleep in an instant

Diluc

surrounded by enemies, diluc raised his weapon

limping and wounded, he held his ground

you were screaming, telling him to walk away but your voice never reached him

before you could react, someone plunged their blade through his back

blood splattered on your face as you saw the light leave diluc’s eyes

you started screaming again, as the masked face raised his bloodied sword to you

you woke up to a large bedroom and an empty bed, trying to shake off the dream

diluc was fine...diluc was fine...WHERE THE FUCK WAS HE?!

you searched around the room frantically before you realized he was probably out doing his batman nightly duties

breathing heavily, you sat on the bed waiting for him

after a while, when you stopped shaking from the nightmare, you heard shuffling outside

the door opened softly, and a familiar face with a mess of red hair appeared

almost sobbing, you ran and jumped into the arms of a very surprised diluc

you two hadn’t had much physical contact despite being in a relationship, but you couldn’t hold back

not after your dream

he was sweaty and dirty, but you didn’t care as he held you close

you looked at him, cupping his face

“you’re alright?”

“i should be asking you that. why didn’t you sleep until now?”

you couldn’t tell him why you had woken up...what had woken you up

telling him would only make him worry and feel guilty

so you just shake your head, telling him you couldn’t sleep

you could tell he didn’t believe you, but thankfully, he didn’t push it either

keeping you down on the bed, he murmured about taking a bath before sleeping

so you lay down, waiting for him

the dream flashed in front of your eyes again and you shivered

shutting your eyes, you didn’t see diluc coming out quietly and lying down next to you, until his strong arms came to wrap around you

you turned to look at him

and came face to face with his wet hair

laughing, you get up and pull you with him

“what are you-”

diluc gets cut off when you run your hands through his hair

sighing, he leans back into you

“blergh, your hair is wet. wait” you say, getting down and finding a towel to dry his hair with

you twirl your finger, telling him to turn around

he does so wordlessly, closing his eyes as you dry it out

as you stared down, the colour of his curls reminded you of the blood in your dreams and your breath hitched

noticing this, diluc turns around to look at you

keeping the towel away, he makes you lie down next to him

“there is something bothering you. but if you don’t want to tell me y/n, i won’t push it”

you wanted to tell him, your heart was bursting from the effort, but...not yet

not when you knew he’d blame himself. he’d feel guilty and fall into that state you’d seen before so many times

not yet, you told yourself

you assured him everything was fine, and told him not to worry

wrapping your arms around him, you sink into his chest

wondering why diluc was so quiet, you look at him, only to find him asleep

smiling, you lean up and kiss his forehead softly

this man, who did everything for you..and monstadt, you’d protect him

protect him from anyone and anything that threatens to harm him

with these thoughts in mind, you slept, your nightmares driven away by the burning fire

#genshin impact #genshin mihoyo #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #genshin diluc #zhongli #childe #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #fluff

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anaiswriterr · 3 years

Text

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part four, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW. Todays chapter does include gore, death, killing, hunting, sickness, etc.

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you’d marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he’s not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him…

- chapter five: the blood a trickster spills -

•

You grab onto a tree branch, grunting as you pull yourself up. It has been an hour since you've been aimlessly walking through the enchanted forest, your feet already burn in exhaustion. You managed a to find a stream, the land was smooth - perfect for a fire in the morning but right now your main priority:

Is to somehow climb this tree without breaking a leg.

You grumble incoherent words to yourself, enraged by the stubborn bark your hand could not grasp. You opted for another tree branch, pulling yourself up to a reasonably thicker branch - which you deemed was thick enough to wait the night out. Though sleep was definitely out of the question for you, a fall from this height was enough to put you out of commission and paint you dead.

You wrap your arms carefully around the trees trunk taking deep breathes in attempt to sooth your beating heart, "don't look down.. don't look down." you chant, the words stitching together like a prayer. But your eyes glance down - for only one second. One second and suddenly your breath hitches and fear burrows into your stomach. One slip and it was over. Your hands grasp hard onto the trees bark, imprinting your hand with small indents of patterns.

Your eyes grow heavy with sleep, exhausted from climbing. You mentally curse yourself for not taking advantage of the time you had in the carriage ride.

From beneath you, bushes rustle and heavy footsteps emerge.

Yet, you don't dare look down to peep what roams the dark night; growling and far away howls creep up your skin as you shiver. You were in a long night - a cold grueling night.

***

You shiver against the bark, as rain pours down from above soaking your boots and clothing. The rain clouds cover up the moon - as if the night couldn't get worse - you feel small rain drops drizzle down from the skyline. Tapping your nose and cheeks, falling hard onto the ground after a few seconds. You roll your eyes in annoyance, tightening you grip against the tree bark as the rain soaks you from head to toe. In this case you were going to get sick if you didn't dry up soon - and sickness in the kingdom was a true tragedy. Your grip is slippery, chunks of bark peels off the tree and onto the ground below. Startling the animals that roamed below - one snarls as it's hit on the head with one piece. Tightening your legs and arms you realize if you fall now, in this darkness, at this moment..

You would never see another night again.

Determined to survive you travel even further up top into the tree line, it wasn't the smartest idea, staying put in the position you were in and waiting the rain out seemed like a logical solution.

But you needed to get to the tree line.

The sky could tell exactly what time it was, where the rain was coming from, and when it would end. It was better visually, other than waiting for you to fall.

But that also was a thought, what if your foot slipped when you were trying to get further on top, surely by that height you wouldn't have to worry about getting eaten alive by creatures of the night - you'd simply die just by hitting the ground. In all actuality, you didn't wanna think about it, but each time your damned eyes just peered down you saw death. This entire forest reeked and felt like death, or was it a curse, a game? A game to see which Queen can be the most traumatized?

If so, you were pretty sure by the end of this you'd have to see the royal therapist. If there even was one in this kingdom you served.

Grunting you pull yourself up, cheering yourself on internally. You're just nearly there, one more step and the sky line would be clear!

Rain droplets splatter your face, gliding across your cheeks and drenching your hair. Just a few more branches, a few more pulls. The dark clouds peer through leaves above, and you can already see the rain clouds gathered together. You sigh in relief, the rain would stop soon, you estimated the rain would most likely stop in approximately five minutes. And the moon would shine down again. the clouds were just passing by.

You breath in the fresh air, ignoring the pelting rain.

You just simply needed to breath, tears run down your face as you stare off into the Kingdoms silhouette - staring angrily at the sky refusing to place your fate in another persons hands. Clutching onto your dagger your carve into the tree branch.

"I will not accept the fate you place me under, you scoundrel pieces of shit!" You say quietly under your breath, a promise you will get to retell to your future children when the time came.

***

Birds chirp all around you, it's officially the first day.

The beating sun scorned your skin, but the cough in your throat is enough to pull your attention away from the scorching heat. You are developing a cold.

Your throat tickles and your nose feels stopped up, your hand shoots up to cover the suns beating rays off your face. It was early, if you had to estimate most likely seven in the morning. The sun came down behind the kingdom at exactly seven thirty, (you made sure to observe), which only meant you had had twelve hours and thirty minutes to find food, make a fire, track down a goblin, and lastly if you were lucky enough to stumble upon safe herbs to create a tea that would soothe the pending cold.

If an infection didn't kill you, it'd be a cold that would have a final say, but the cold was the least of your worries.

You had a goblin to track down, and those tricksters could kill you faster than any fever.

You slowly move down the tree, checking your surrounds.

You found yourself a loose rabbit wandering off into its borough, noting your next meal for the day was only a few feet away. Your boots crunch onto the dried leaves and wet dirt, you search for dried logs that survived the rain fall, along with rocks that you could create a pit with. You set up directly in the sun in hopes to dry out a few damp logs. In the meantime you went to the rabbits borough - it had two entrances and from what you learned from Kirishima it would attempt to escape from the back. You stealthily placed a large heavy rock at the back entrance blocking its way.

Intricately you back away, you weren't so immune to dead animals. Your father went on annual hunting trips all the time, but, this would be the first time you are hunting out of survival.

The entirety of the "game" was survival.

You check up on your logs, noticing they are now dry from the suns heat. You grab your sticks rubbing your hands up and down to create a spark - fire blazes in front of you. Normally you'd say it was to hot to start a fire, but at night you rather face the cold than a grueling hungry Ogre. Of all things you had to deal with in life at this moment, a bitch ass Ogre was not one of the problems you had the proper strength and patience to deal with.

You grab an end of a stick, lighting the other half on fire. Waving it as a torch, your meal for the day would be served.

You rush over to the borough, lightly throwing the stick into the hole before closing it off with the boulder. Running over to the other end you hold your dagger.

You felt bad for the poor thing.

But a girls got to eat.

***

You have no idea where to start.

When one thinks of a goblin one would refer to the story books that claimed they lived under bridges - shunned away from society maybe even deep into forests. But those were simply just stories, if you had to think like a goblin you'd live far away from the kingdom in fear of being killed.

Nobody prepared you for the hunt, only survival.

You decide you should move, being stuck in the same place wouldn't get you very far. The herbs you were in search for in the meantime for your throat weren't found so you inevitability gave up on the luxury of a warm leaf of tea. You cough into your arm, sniffling your nose from running. The heat rose your temperature to the point you had to stop your travels to lie down, mentally cursing yourself for wasting time.

Heaving, you look up towards the sky, noticing the sun has moved positions. Only a few hours away of setting and you have yet found a single clue where you could find a goblin. You crouch down beside a creak, cupping your hands and drinking away the water from your palms. Splashing your face with it as well to cool the rising fever you felt approaching. You only had three days and if you were gonna make it back to start on time by the third day the heart must be in your possession. Your feet ache, and your calves muscles cramp. The lower part of your back is sore and the sun is burning the sides of your feet - you were in complete misery.

Black dots appear in your line of sight, you stumble onto your feet holding back the urge to vomit what little food you had left in your system.

Your hand quietly slaps over your mouth, clamping it shut.

"Well well well... what do we have here?"

Before you can even answer your sight goes dark, and you feel your head hit the ground. It falls silent.

***

Humming.

The sound of a cackling fire.

And the warm rich scent smell of hazelnut soup.

You slowly open your eyes, "What the-" your heart rate rises in fear, where were you? Who's here? Why are you here, how are you here? You search for the dagger but are left bewildered when the sharp blade is nowhere to be found. You shuffle backwards, your hands running over the wooden floorboards - splinters penetrate your skin. But you could careless, you remember passing out from the heat - or was it from a fever? You didn't know, footsteps approach you.

"Oh well it seems like you're awake!" A females voice cheers, you scan her body, taking in her frame. She was tall, and very beautiful, her striking long brown hair and dark green eyes, a dark red gown adorned her body. Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you bark at the woman, "Who are you-"

"Now, that isn't a way to speak to a woman who saved your life your Majesty."

"How do you know who I am-"

The woman chuckles, "Well I hear everything! The forest, it speaks to me. And not to mention the witches that live here love to gossip!" You stare at her, blinking your tired eyes. It still didn't make much sense, yes technically you ruled this land as well but it's so far away. You can feel your pounding headache even worsen, "So you're a witch?" You ask, pulling your feet in.

"Ha! You think I'm one of those people! How rude. See I'm just a modern lady sitting in a cottage, I don't suppose you would know that kind of lifestyle." The woman shrugs, sipping her cup of tea.

You nod, "I'm afraid.. I don't actually." All your life you were surrounded by jewels and gold's, fed the most expensive meats and the most tasty fruits. Living a fast paced life of "don't say that." "don't touch that." "sit like this." and "who told you to speak." Speaking to Mina about eventually running away from marriage, even planning to take her too.

"Well it seems to me you are part taking in those heinous games the Dragons throw women into. What a shame, you are beautiful too."

You arch a brow in curiosity at her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean this isn't going to end well for you. I mean, look at you! You look like you couldn't hurt and fly, I wonder what King Bakugou must be up to? You wouldn't stand a chance against a goblin!" The woman laughs manically placing her cup of tea onto the table, she steps towards you. "I managed to survive one night alone-"

"Oh please, If I didn't take you in the wolves would've had a feast. You should be thanking me." You roll your eyes in annoyance, "Now dear," she grins, "you look parched. How about some tea."

Tea.

Your body is practically begging for a warm remedy to sooth your raw sore throat, oh.. you realized that you're actually growing sick. The headache on the sides of your temples is beating - pounding against your brain. Your vision is cloudy. How could you not of realized. You were so distracted by where you were you barley remember you couldn't find the herbs you searched for.

The lady wags an empty cup in your face.

"Come on. Your cheeks are burning red, and whether that's just a sun burn or fever I'm sure you need a sip. You're burning up a storm."

A part of you wonders her name, but was it truly important? Could she possibly show you were you could find a goblin? You look over your shoulder out of the window realizing the sun was just barley going down.

"H-How long was I out?" You shakily ask, pulling your hands into your chest.

The woman arches a brow, "You know for a Queen you surely do stutter a lot. You've been out since noon."

Lord if you didn't have strength to be patient you probably would've thrown a wooden slab at her by now, you breath in heavily through your stopped up nose; coughing in despair. Blowing out a few pieces of hair from your face. "Well, then do you want the tea or no - your royal highness?" She asks in a taunting matter.

"No. I'm fine." You huff.

"More for me then-"

"What's your name?" You interrupt, "Id love to know the name of the woman who saved me after all." You grin tilting your head to the side. The lady clears her throat, "Marigold. My name is Marigold." You nod, finally knowing her name. "Well Marigold, do you know where I can find a goblin?"

The word seems to stop Marigold in her tracks. Her face grows pale for a second before returning back to her natural nonchalant expression. Blowing a raspberry she proceeds to laugh, "Well honey, that's a days trip. They live deep into the forest. You wouldn't make it there in time."

Hmm, you nod suspiciously. Recalling the last conversation you had with Kirishima.

"What do goblins look like? I've only ever read about them." You asked, moving beside him following him into the horse stall. He combs out the mane of his horse, "Well that's a tricky question my Queen. They are real tricky and can spew lies just to get you where they want... they promise you things. You have to be real smart to not fall for it - I've encountered one in my youth. It didn't look anything like those storybooks."

Your eyes wander her body; she looked normal. But to trust her would be a stretch, one that could kill you. Her voice sound normal. You watch her closely, "Where's my stuff?" You ask. Marigold arches a brow and shrugs her shoulders; "What stuff?"

You bark, "My dagger! My holster for it! Where is it?"

"Oh those things.. why do you need them?"

"I need to leave-"

"It's dark out, you wouldn't want yourself to increase your fever now would you. I promise this tea will sooth all your pains away. Even the ones deep in your heart."

You arch a brow, narrowing your gaze. Even the ones deep in your heart. Your brush her off as a bluff, "You don't know what you're talking about." You push yourself up from the floor, stumbling from the sudden wave of nausea. Sweat beats run down your forehead as you attempt to stand up straight. Marigold clicks her tongue, her long fingers run through her long brown locks. "No. No. It seems that... I do know what I'm talking about. A Queen who's too good for her new kingdom, thrown, stuck and forced into a loveless marriage; suddenly thrown into the enchanted forest to find a heart that she will be forced to eat? Poor unfortunate girl, you were better off dead."

Her words cut deeply, anyone could figure that out though. She didn't know you, how could she possibly think she had your life figured out. You were a Princess made into a Queen; it wasn't that hard to understand. To create peace between your kingdoms you had to marry Bakugou.

"Darling... you are unhappy." She takes small sips of her tea, "I can help you escape.. you don't love him you don't even know him. Come with me, and I can help nourish you back to health. You won't even have to return, I'm quite lonely myself. Now, have some tea. Your cheeks are practically scarlet." Marigolds grin is sinister, she taps her nails slowly against the table; that's when you realize:

Her fingers and nails are sharp, green, and coated with old blood.

Her green eye sharpen with each passing second - her pupils are almost snake like. You gulp down the fear that rose in you, ignoring the raging pound against your chest. What do you do? You can tell she's growing impatient, if you run out now with no weapon you could kiss your life away. If you stayed... no. You needed a knife, your dagger, anything even a wooden stake would do fine. "I don't bite, sit down." Marigold says menacingly, your feet scuff the floor as you make your way to her. This is the time where you're supposed be strong, you guess.

Marigold lifts up her tea kettle, you notice her teeth for the first time.. how sharp they were.. separated and long.. how could she disguise herself as someone so beautiful?

"Remember.. they are tricksters. They are going to tell you things you wanna hear, they can be anyone and anything." Kirishima's words rang through your head, "Well wouldn't that make them a shape shifter? I've heard those are a thing too, how can I be certain?" You pout, how would you know. The creatures of the Enchanted Forest were so complex. He crosses his arm, "You'll know when they begin to turn.. back into the creature they were originally. Don't catch yourself entertaining, they'll slice your throat in a second."

Your breathing grows heavy, she's a goblin. She's what you've been looking for, her name wasn't Marigold - Marigold was a the woman who the face, the body belonged too. This thing... is morphing. You choose your words carefully, slowly reaching out for an empty tea cup and quietly asking her to fill it. If you could just lead her into the kitchen somehow you could possibly get a knife, "Well now that's the spirit my Queen. I promise this tea with sooth everything away, melting all the overwhelming emotions you may be feeling." The woman mutters before pulling back a hot tea kettle.

Hot.

Tea.

Kettle.

Boiling water is in there. Your heart prancing in joy, you have a chance. You had an opening, quickly, you stop her with your hand. "Actually, may I poor it? I-I sometimes like mines a little more full than usual." You smile nervously, "Oh why of course, here. Have as much as you'd like - it came right off the cauldron."

You nod, taking the handle away from her and carefully pouring the boiling tea into your cup. You make note of her wandering eyes, you've got to make this quick. You finish pouring, opening the kettle lid you ask aloud, "What kind of tea is this? It smells wonderful." You needed a distraction, a reason to open the lid.

"Lavender green tea with a speck of rose water-"

Your throw the boiling water over her head, her screams erupt in the as dining room; as her skin bubbles up. You throw the kettle at her head and knock back your chair, running towards the kitchen. "You wretched! Horrid- I'll slice your throat!" The Goblin screeches, you search the drawers and cabinets for something, anything! But to no avail you didn't find a single thing. Now you were completely done for.

Heavy footsteps and angered huffs make their way towards the kitchen - it's now or never. Throwing pots and pans you make sure to strike the goblin in the face, "After I saved your life! This is the thanks I get?" You hear, bending down to hide underneath the counter your eyes lock with a shining blade.

Your dagger!

Hidden behind the cauldron, you just needed a way to get back there. You needed a way to grab it, the goblins footsteps grow heavy. You silence your breathing with your palms, "I could've helped you, I could've been your escape. You greedy rat!" You hear tables being flipped over, cabinets being thrown open violently, "Wait till I get my hands on you.. I'll cut you open and gut you like a fish."

You attempt to keep calm, either way you were a goner if you hadn't left in that moment. When you hear the goblins footsteps move away in distance you shuffle onto your feet and zoom towards the cauldron. The crackling fire and boil contents bring you an idea. You hurry for the dagger, flipping it between your hands.

"There you are.." you hear a snarl from across the room, readying your blade to attack, you throw your hands up, "Thank you for the hospitality, but it looks like you have something I need." You point towards the goblins chest, the heart. A viable beating heart, only feet away. In mere seconds the goblin launches at you, reaching out to tackle you. You swiftly move out of the way throwing yourself to the ground, your palms throb in pain from the splinters lodged deep into your flesh - but that's the least of your worries. You scurry to your feet and push over the boiling cauldron over the goblin and stab your dagger deep into its head. Blood splatters your face in small droplets, staining your face and clothes.

You've never killed a "person" before.

Never did you think you could actually do it, but the small sigh of relief escaping your throat tells you that you are finally safe.

You proved what you had to prove. And for the night you had sanctuary.

Your mind races in adrenaline, you're alive.

Yet you had to kill in the process, does that make you one of them? No, you did what you had to do. It was a matter of kill or be killed. You pull your dagger away, out of its head, you didn't kill an innocent women. You killed a beast. Small gurgles and a moan fall from its mouth, the sound of death. You wipe away the blood on your forehead with your forearm and roll the dead corpse to the side.

The heart...

A token for the kingdom.

***

Blood stains your chest; dried up to the color brown as you stumble through the forest. Your eye lids feel heavy with every step you take yet you fight off the urge to fall to your knees and succumb to the dark black dots in your vision. It's tempting, yet you are so close to the finish.. you walked the full second day. With no breaks and no source of water on the way, your fever had returned full force as the sun blazed down your body.

You cough into your arm as your second hand clutches onto the heart you were meant to return. Fresh blood coats your hands from the animals you had to fight off for the heart, the trip back was just as worse, your eye lids flutter, opening and closing with each step you nearly fall to the floor.

You look like a dead girl walking.

Your feet shuffle and kick at the ground below.

Your back is sore and your throat feels dry from the cold of the night - the forest was ruthless. You can hear the tribal drums from afar, the sound edging closer and closer, increasing its volume with each step. You stumble to the ground, exhausted, thirsty, and sick. You consider staying down, to tired to even pull yourself up. You hear voices, they sound so close.

"I told you already, she'll be here."

Bakugou?

The king, your husband.

"Give her some more time."

It must be near afternoon then, you push yourself up when you heard Kirishima's voice agree with your husband. Providing you some more time to make it to the finish line - you assume the politicians want to speed up the process. You swore they must have something against you.

Your body feels sticky from the old, dried blood on your chest. Fingers still freshly coated in blood and dirt you push yourself off from a nearby tree - edging closer to the entrance of the Enchanted Forest. The setting suns sunlight peers through the small branches and leaves of the trees above, kissing your exposed shoulders, reddened from the sunburns that littered your skin. You wipe the sweat off your forehead; smearing a combination of dried and fresh blood all over your face. But you don't care, you just had a few more step till sanctuary.

The entrance is clear, open to the trail you followed.

You can see Kirishima from a distance, his rough shoulders tense in worry. Beside him, Bakugou stands with his arms crossed over his shoulders. An expression you couldn't make out contours his face.

You know you've finally made it out when a wave of heat smacks your face even harder - the setting sun beating on your body you stumble over to the King.

A smirk on your face as you hold up the heart, his eyes widen in surprise, taken aback you watch his lips move. But no sound comes out, it's all muffled around you. Black spots collect in your vision, "I-I did it.." you mumble, falling into his chest his hand reaches out to touch your forehead.

You lie passed out in his arms as he calls out to his guards, Kirishima collects the heart from your hand just before it could fall. "What do we do?" The dragon frantically says, Bakugou looks out for the Counsel men, his eyes fall onto the President. Glaring he announces, "We're taking her back to the Palace now!"

"You will do no such thing, your Majesty! She will be brought to the plaza hall, your people are waiting! Handmaidens, guards, take Queen Y/N, preserve the heart and bathe it in pigs blood. We are continuing the ceremony."

Your fever rose with each passing minute, and the exhaustion you'd expedited already was enough to kill. Bakugou breathes in heavily knowing he had no say in the ceremony. There was no way he could just simply override the parliament. Arms wrap around your body as the guards and handmaidens assist in take you.

They rip you away from Bakugou's arms.

"We'll take care of her after the ceremony-"

Kirishima interrupts the Counsel man, bearing his sharp teeth he growls, "I believe you will. I don't necessarily like the taste of humans." He threatens as they user you off. Bakugou stares in annoyance at the carriage that rushed you off to the plaza. Nightfall was close, and he could already feel the rumbling of ceremonial drums beneath his feet. A hand comes to pat his shoulder, the Counsels president, Hagoku Tekona, smiles. "You should probably head back to the plaza.. she might wanna see you as soon as we wake her up."

"You're just gonna wake her up?"

"We'll just drench her in pigs blood to wake her, she'll anyways have to. The tradition calls for the Queen to bathe in pigs blood as she intakes the heart to be fully part of the dragon clan-"

Bakugou, walks away, reaching out for Kirishima he taps his back.

"Make sure... they don't throw her around too much."

Nodding in agreement Kirishima fetches their horses, "I'll take care of her. Make sure she's conscious." The two jump onto their horses settling into the saddle, Bakugou mutters to himself, incoherent words bungled all in one sentence, he pulls back on his horse. Kirishima arches a brow in worry, eyeing his friend he doesn't know what to say neither what to do, the dragon mutters, "You seem surprised. Did you think she wasn't going to make it?"

Nodding Bakugou turns to face Kirishima, with notable surprise written on his face. "I thought I was going to have to find another wife..."

Chuckling Kirishima shakes his head before taking off with his horse, "Depending on how well tonight's ceremony goes.. it appears Bakugou that you have a wife beside your side."

"It appears.. so."

AUTHORS NOTES: Yooooooo! How are you guys, sorry for taking to long. This chapter was longer than the others so I’m happy with where this is going. I have been going through a few things, remember guys I’m just a teenager so it can be hard to fit things in on time. I just got a job, just waiting for the orientation, I have school work and I’m glad I have all A’s! Anyways I hope you liked it!!

TAGLIST: @loxbbg @urmomsshousee @samkysnks @mikithekiki @aegeanblues @mykuronekome @lowkey-a-faerie-in-disguise @orange-aesthetic-yay @katsukibabe @bnhaficswriter @vvanills @katiekat300 @utterlyconfused-tm @learningasigo @bigkoalafications @bnhaficswriter @sugarandsoft @aegeanblues @tspice283 @simpforeveryone @crackhead1-800 @poetryandhoetry01 @bakasbitch18 @riceballsandanime @franko-pop @lostmarimoismyhubby @junniev8 @thirsthourdemon @cowward @the2ndl @reaperintheroses @bakugousmrs @maemi324 @beautifulparisiangirl @commandertorinshepard @velosrantipole @kirishimaisthatbitch @soft-levi-girl-blog @chims-kookies @smtmusic @jokerloverparis @polpoes-blog @sunaswife @lordexplosion-murder20 @lostmarimoismyhubby @awkward-bard @jazzylove @katsukibabe @whalerus @misssugarless @hikaru-mikazuki @greenchild @bubbzibubbles @the-fluffy-emo @anon-weeb-030 @cottonccandyxx @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @avocados-and-lemons @lucyheartfilias-wife @alisonhappy @wthrae @karitamaki @mydads2ndmistress @asemerose @chwlogy @foreverdebbie @bakugosbabie @bakuinred @thatkoicat @kkitakenma @bnhafan101 @meliapis @thecaoswitch @liviwivi1 @angie-1306 @theinfamoushotdog @minibobabottle @honeylemondragonemperor @iloveitblackbnha @yokesmam @annepamgkrth

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

you got any delusional/love sick yan Kiri on valentines day👀👀

You said lovesick and my mind jumped to

(What to expect - no NSFW, drugging, manipulation, marriage talks lol)

(inspired by when I was in the hospital and high off of whatever drug they fed me, I was so relaxed and did whatever the heck they asked. I had to get a catheter and they were like “Strip kid” and no questions I shucked off my scrubs right then and there, spread my legs when they asked, had no worries nor a care in the world. I agreed to anything and everything they proposed bc I was loopy as hell, glad my parents were there to like reel me in afterwards)

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

A hand on your shoulder eases you from your slumber, blinking awake into the soft light of the morning.

“Breakfast in bed, your favorite-” Kirishima’s grinning wide, eyes big and full of love.

He’s pulled back the curtains, straightened up your room a bit, placed a vase full of flowers on your dresser, directly in your line of sight.

There��s a tray on the bed, a plate stacked with fruit, toast, and a cup of warm tea on the side. Tucked in the corner of the tray is a little red, heart shaped box.

“K-Kiri? What are you-”

“Here, open up!” The man is picking a strawberry, pinching it’s leaves, shoving it against your lips, but you turn your head to the side, brows furrowed.

He shouldn’t be here.

You shove his hand away with a stern look. “What the hell, how did you get in?” there’s no trace of sleepiness in your demeanor as you sit up.

Kiri waves his hand. “Ah, that doesn’t matter-”

“No, it totally does-” You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “I took your key back. How the hell did you get in Kirishima?”

The man deflated slightly, placing the strawberry back on the plate. He was sitting on the bed, shoes off, in casual clothes. “You know me, always loosing’ that thing. I made a bunch of copies for when I got drunk and couldn’t find my keys.” A toothy, apologetic smile is offered, but you’re furious.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to get the fuck out of my house. We’re done. It hasn’t even been a month, Kiri, I told you I wanted to take a break and that I needed space.”

Kirishima bites his lip, bows his head, looks up at your through his eyelashes like a wounded puppy. “But I missed you, and-well... it’s Valentines Day...”

“Get out Kiri, this is ridiculous. This is why I needed a break from our relationship in the first place. You can’t respect my boundaries.” You maneuver around the tray, slipping off the bed and onto your feet, before facing your ex-boyfriend. “Now leave.”

He doesn’t move.

No, he just sits there, staring at you. Then he sighs heavily, sadly, as if you had just insulted his manliness. “At least open the present I got you?”

“No Kirishima, please just go. And get rid of the copies you’ve made of my key. That’s fucking creepy.”

The redhead bristled at that, shoulders rising defensively. Yet still, he refused to move from his spot on the bed. “Hey, it’s not weird! They’re backups-”

“So you can come snoop through my stuff when I’m gone? I don’t want you around anymore.”

Maybe you were being harsh, but you had tried being nice.

Tried letting him down gently, that you wanted to work on yourself and focus on your career. That you wanted him to find someone who could give the same effort that he did, since you obviously weren’t.

Then you had been firmer after he didn’t accept it, explaining that he was smothering you in this relationship, guilt tripping you every time you wanted to go out, trying to manipulate you into feeling bad for him when you chose to do anything but spend time with the man.

He was co-dependent, and reliant on your presence to a frankly alarming degree.

Your stern words seemed to get through to him. The man nodded slowly, running his hands over his face. “God, okay, I’m sorry. I know I can be a little much. I just thought maybe.... I don’t know, that I could fix this? Fix us?”

“Breakfast in bed isn’t going to fix anything, especially not when you break into serve it.” You snipe, feeling a little cold, exposed in your big pajamas. It was warmer under the covers.

“I didn’t! I didn’t break in! I have a key-”

“Just leave, please.”

Kirishima sighed again, before he reached over the tray, picking up the heart shaped box. “Open the present and have one, then I’ll leave?”

Anything to get him going. This was how the two of you would fight, you struggling to make yourself heard, to be respected, and Kirishima completely ignoring your wants, stubborn and unrelenting in his desires.

You took the box as he held it out to you, quickly lifting up the lid to see mini chocolates. Classic Valentine gift.

“Just one? Then I promise I’ll go.” He pleaded.

A chocolate was selected, one with little sprinkles on the rounded top. You had to admit, they did look delicious.

Your ex-boyfriend always was a generous man, insisting upon giving. Giving back rubs, giving kisses, giving you prime cuddles and giving you undying love.

“Can I feed it to you?”

A glare was shot his way, and Kirishima quickly fell silent.

One bite, then two, and the chocolate was gone. it was sweet, almost sickly so. When Kirishima left, you’d be throwing the entire box into the trash.

“Good girl.” His voice was low, mischievous, and your body heated up at the praise while you swallowed the chocolate down.

“’Kay, I had some, it was lovely, now get out.”

He rose to his feet, and you were reminded of his size, intimidated immediately by the way the man towered over you. You’d forgotten how big he was in the time you’ve spent apart.

But he moved past you without another word, out of your bedroom.

You followed him down the hall, through the dining room, to the front door, where he stopped and turned.

“I know why you’re really pushing me away, (Y/N).”

“Oh, do you.” Crossing your arms, you waited for his explanation.

“You’re scared. You found the ring, didn’t you? I understand if you don’t want to get married just yet, but I wish you had just told me that instead of freaking out.”

Ring? What ring? Marriage?

Kiri continued. “I’m willing to wait. I’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes. You can’t rush love, baby, you taught me that.”

Your face felt warm, he couldn’t be serious. Marriage? The two of you had been dating for a significant amount of time, but there had never been any talk of marriage.

“Kiri-”

The man took two steps towards you, invading your personal space. You tried to backpedal, overwhelmed by his sudden, looming presence, but meaty hands gripped your arms, locking you in place.

“Are you starting to feel it yet?” His face was too close, warm breath splashing against your skin, those dark red eyes searching your own, eager, anticipating.

“What? Kiri, let me go-”

“It’ll kick in real soon I bet, and then the real Valentine’s Day fun will start. Fuck-” The man breathed, pushing himself back from you a bit, taking a deep breath. “I’m so excited that I get to be with you again. I’m going to treat you right, you won’t ever have to feel afraid of commitment again. I’ll be the best boyfriend, best fiancé, best husband, best dad-”

“Kiri-” You gasped, struggling in his hold. The man didn’t even notice, lost in his own convoluted fantasy as he stared down at you with affection. You were starting to feel warm, woozy.

What was he saying about something kicking in?

“Did you-oh my god, did you drug me?” Is that why he had been so insistent about the chocolate?

“It’s not really a drug, more of a relaxer!” His smile was so bright, teeth too sharp. You felt unsteady on your feet. “I know you’ve been stressed out lately, and that's another reason why you needed a “break”, so this is the perfect way to relax!”

When had he picked you up? Kirishima was carrying you back towards your bedroom, bridal style. You rested against his chest blearily, blinking your eyes in confusion as your world spin.

“A nice breakfast, some cuddles...” He cooed, setting you on the bed, climbing up after you so he could rest you against his side. You felt like you were asleep, dreaming maybe? You didn’t know.

Kirishima held a strawberry up to your lips. “Open sweetheart-” You opened, bit down, chewed, swallowed.

“We can mess around a little, I’ll light some candles- oh! And I brought wine too! We can drink some wine, play with each other.... I love you so much, (Y/N).”

A kiss, pressure against your lips, body crushed in a hug against a broad, muscular chest. You relaxed into it. Nothing felt real.

“We’re gonna spend the rest of our life together.”

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bestintheparsec · 3 years

Text

Between the Lines

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: A trip to the bookstore brings you more than you’re looking for.

A/N: This is just something short/sweet I came up with (it’s probably the least deep or angsty thing I’ve ever written, unlike my usual). It’s a standalone, but obviously I have a thing for coffee...anyways, I hope you like it!

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: none

(Masterlist pinned to my page)

You've found it.

After countless stops at multiple bookstores, you've managed to track down the book you've been searching long and hard for. It's a new release you've been eager to get your hands on—collector's edition, special content included. Every store you've gone to has been completely sold out of it, but after many phone calls and Google searches you'd found a store, one town over, that still had it.

Determined to get it this time, you'd shown up as soon as the store opened today. Stepping inside you see that it's a fairly big store, but it seems to be a local place since you'd never heard of it prior to your extensive search. You make a mental note to come back here more often, taking in the quaintness of it. There's plenty of books, of course, but there's also a section full of cute memorabilia and stationery, and a cozy coffee place tucked into the back corner.

It doesn't take you long to find the section you're looking for—you easily spot the beautiful cover on a display at the center of the store. There's only one copy left, and you're giddy with excitement and relief as you reach for it, sliding it out of its spot. It's the last one on the shelf, but it's in impeccable condition—no wrinkles or folds on the cover or pages, and not a single fingerprint on the jacket. Usually the last ones to go are ones that have been handled by other readers, shoved aside for a more pristine copy on the shelf. But this is your copy now, and it's perfect.

Smiling to yourself and cradling it in your arms, you walk hurriedly back to the front to pay for it and finally take it home. Turning quickly around the corner and not paying attention to anything else in particular, you wonder how long it'll take you to finish it.

And then you crash into something large and sturdy. The book falls onto the floor with a clunk and you feel something hot splash onto your skin. Someone steadies you, only for a moment before stepping back.

You gasp and blurt out an ouch! before realizing that said large and sturdy person was holding a cup of coffee, which is now spilled all over the front of your shirt and the floor.

“Shit, I'm so sorry, are you okay?” a deep voice asks frantically. Still processing what happened, you haven't looked up, focusing on shaking the brown beverage off of yourself.

Some of the hot liquid is on your arm so you briskly brush it off and shake out the front of your shirt, trying to cool off your skin. It's not until a large pair of hands gently takes your wrist, dabbing your arm with a napkin hastily pulled out of his pocket, that you finally look up at this person—and find an unassumingly handsome, albeit panicked-looking, man with wide brown eyes and a face that looks about as hot as your skin feels. You let yourself imagine that if this weren't an inconvenient moment, you might be looking at him as if something clicked into place.

“I'm so sorry, we should get some cold water on that,” he says again, urgently, wiping away at your skin before realizing he's still holding onto your arm and awkwardly letting go.

“No, it's fine, I'm a klutz, really,” you mutter to yourself, dropping your eyes to the book on the ground. It's covered in coffee now, too, much to your disappointment. Way to go, you chide yourself, deflated at the sight. Not only have you ruined the book you've gone through so much trouble to find, but you've also embarrassed yourself in front of this cute stranger in the process.

This is why you stick to books.

“I've ruined your shirt...and this book,” the man murmurs, bending down to pick it up. His furrowed brows and pursed lips make him appear softer than you might expect.

He meets your eyes, swallowing hard and peering at you with what can only be considered as puppy dog eyes. You really look at him for the first time, noticing the unruly dark curls poking out from under his cap, and the distinctly “outdoorsy” attire he has on, worn-out flannel button-up and suede jacket and all. Honestly, he looks mortified, but it's sort of endearing that he's so concerned when many others would've just muttered a curt apology before leaving you to your business. In any case, you find yourself wanting to know more about him. It's a thought you immediately push away; after all, you'd only just met him and he probably only thinks of you as some clumsy girl.

“It's okay, really, it's my fault,” you shake your head at him. “I'm an idiot, I wasn't watching where I was going.”

“But that coffee was really hot, it might've burned you—” he insists.

“I'm wearing another layer under this,” you reassure the man. Taking the book from his hands, you sigh quietly. “I can't say the same for this, though.”

He looks like he's about to ask you something else when another man, probably his friend, walks up next to him, glancing back and forth between you before making a face like yikes when he sees the large stain on your shirt.

"It's not his fault," you sputter at the same time that Coffee Man mumbles, "It was my fault."

After inquiring if you're alright, his friend reaches down to pick up the now-empty cup from the ground, then playfully smacks the man's arm.

“I can't even leave you alone for one minute,” he shakes his head jovially and you almost miss the mischievous eyebrow raise he gives him before turning back to you. “You know...you should let Francisco here take care of that. He's military—first-aid-trained and all,” the friend says with a grin and knowing wink. Coffee Man's jaw clenches, glancing timidly at you as his friend keeps talking, then shooting him a glare that says please stop fucking talking.

"Now you've ruined my coffee and a pretty girl's shirt," his friend jokes.

Coffee Man tries to smile but is visibly embarrassed as he swats his friend on the arm. “Get your own fucking coffee, then, Santi,” he tells him under his breath, which elicits a grin out of you.

Santi throws his hands up in mock-surrender. “Alright, alright. It was nice meeting you,” he nods and smiles at you before walking away.

“I really am sorry,” he tells you again as soon as his friend is out of sight. He fidgets with his hat, removing it for a second to smooth out his hair and then pulling it snugly back down. “I—I'll get you another copy of the book. And a new shirt…”

You chuckle, trying to put him at ease. “Seriously, it's fine…um, Francisco, was it?”

“Oh—Frankie,” he tells you, the smallest of smiles on his lips. He peers at you with that concerned gaze again and you both keep eye contact for what feels like several moments longer than necessary. Despite yourself, you start to feel heat creeping into your face.

Smiling softly back at him, you suddenly feel self-conscious and hug your arms to yourself. “Well, Frankie, it's no big deal. I was going to go home after this, and this shirt is old, anyways." You examine the damage to the book, flipping through the pages. "Mostly I just wanted this book—it's the last copy in the store...but that's okay, too. There are worse things.”

“What's it about?”

“Hmm?” you reply, looking back up at him.

“What's, um, what's the...book about? It has to be good if you were so excited to get it.”

You hadn't expected him to care what you were reading, and you can tell by the shy look in his eyes that it's a genuine question and not anything more.

“Oh. Well…” you start, and it doesn't take long for you to go off about its synopsis and why you've been waiting forever for it. It takes a while for you to realize that you're rambling, and you stop your muddled train of thought. But by the soft look in his eyes as he listens, you get the feeling that Frankie doesn't mind. That, or he's the kind of person who always makes the people around him feel comfortable.

"Anyways, I should let you go on with your day…" you trail off, but both of you remain where you are, not seeming to want to move.

“Wait—will you let me pay for the book?” Frankie insists. “They'll want someone to cover the damage. It's the least I can do.”

“Actually...I think I'm going to keep this copy,” you tell him. “It's still in decent condition and I can read it while I wait for them to get more in.”

Frankie smiles at you, genuinely and without embarrassment for the first time. “You really are excited for it, aren't you?”

“Yep,” you reply with a nod. “It's the same story, even if covered in your friend's drink,” you tease.

“Okay, if you're sure,” he continues. “I'm sorry again, um…I didn't catch your name.”

You tell him and he smiles again, repeating it.

“It was nice meeting you, Frankie,” you tell him as his large hand shakes yours. “Please don't worry about all this.”

Returning the sentiment, Frankie turns to head back to his friend. For a second you consider calling to him, asking to see him again. Not that you'd be bold enough to actually do that. But he quickly disappears behind the rows of shelves and you figure he has other places to be, anyways.

It's almost a week later when you return to the bookstore.

You'd given the front desk your number so they could call you when more copies came in, so you asked them to hold one for you, which they happily did. When you get to the register you find the same cashier who helped you last time, greeting her with a smile. She knows what happened last time, grinning as she hands you the book carefully wrapped in a plastic bag.

When you reach for your wallet she shakes her head. “Oh, no, honey. You're good to go,” she tells you.

You look at her, confused, and she smiles again. “Think of it as a makeup for the last one you already paid for.”

After her insistence, and many thanks on your part, you take the book and leave. When you get to the car, you take it out of the bag, pleased to finally have it. You find the smooth receipt neatly tucked in between the pages and pull it out.

What you don't expect is, at the bottom, it has some handwriting scribbled in pen along with a phone number jotted down under the note. Warmth sneaks into your cheeks and you smile as you read the words.

Would you maybe like to get coffee sometime? I promise not to spill it on you this time. -Frankie

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#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #pedro pascal x reader #my ff #please see my 2 other frankie works if you want more deepness or angst lol

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