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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

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hello i'm such a huge fan of your works, you're absolutely one of my favorite writers here (｡・//ε//・｡). my request is : where reader secretly leaves romantic notes/messages at eddie's locker to show him that people like them admires him so much. then eddie caught them in the act of leaving another poem and you can go beyond your imagination after that. thank you so much and i hope you're having an amazing day !!!

Ughhhhhh I love this smmmmmm.

Not rlly any warnings it’s pretty fluffy, one or two mentions of masterbation, cliffhanger (pt 2 maybe)

pt 1/2/3/4

Pt2 here

It started out innocent enough, Eddie finding a heart shaped post it note in his locker with romantic song lyrics scribbled on the back of it.

He had assumed someone left it in the wrong locker, considering his was mostly unmarked and unused.

Then there was another note the next day. A pinkish cream piece of paper, the kind someone would buy at a specialized stationary store. It was tied with a red ribbon and the writing was the same color.

A sweet and only slightly creepy letter written about how pretty he was, stamped with a sparkly pink lipgloss kiss and doused in perfume.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t jerk off to the thought of it later, the sweet floral scent of the paper invading his mind all day and night.

The notes continued, each more personal than the last, always packaged so prettily. But they never gave any sort of clue about who she might be.

After a few weeks he finally came up with a plan. He would leave a letter in his locker for her to find, that way they could communicate.

Snatching a random notebook from one of his classmates, he ripped out a sheet and scrawled a note on it.

Dear secret admirer person,

Uh hi. I don’t know how to write letters. Who are you? Wait no that’s rude, first of all thank you. But I do really want to know who you are because your handwriting is so pretty and your notes are so sweet and I like the way your perfume smells. Ok bye. Do you say bye in letters? Whatever, goodbye anyways. P.S. your notes make me really horny.

He scribbled a messy heart at the bottom and signed the letter with his signature, slipping it into his locker when he left school for the day.

The next day he opened an empty locker, finding no note inside. This trend continued for the next three days, no response to his letter. He feared he had scared his admirer away.

The weekend came and went and when he returned to school that morning he didn’t bother to check his locker. The whole school was ushered into a pep rally before he even had time to bother with it.

The band played an upbeat congratulatory melody as the cheerleading team rushed in. “Give a warm welcome back to our very own Hawkins Cheer team,” someone announced.

They had been gone for the better half of the last week, at some regional competition. Bam lightbulb moment! His admirer was one of the cheerleaders.

And sure enough when he checked his locker later that day there was a brown paper package tied neatly with a red bow. It was addressed with a heart shaped sticker.

For Eddie (open in private)

It was signed with only a heart, much more carefully drawn than the one on his own note.

He didn’t bother to finish the day, leaving school with a hurried excuse so he could open his gift in the privacy of his home.

And it was worth it. Wrapped in the paper, was a small vial of sweet smelling perfume, a cassette tape, and a pair of cute pink panties.

Attached was another note.

For when you’re thinking of me

He had to know who this girl was, it was driving him insane. He figured maybe if he never left his locker he would catch her leaving the note.

Later that week, after his DnD session, he camped out infront of his locker. First he checked for a note to see if she had already struck. The locker was empty.

He waited all night, dozing off at about 3 in the morning.

He ducked behind the corner, watching intently to see who it was. Sure enough it was his girl, she hummed a song he didn’t recognize while she carefully looked around. One hand clutched a note while the other played with a heart locket around her neck.

“It’s you,” he whispered, stepping out from his hiding place.

“Jesus fucking hell-“ she yelped, jumping slightly at the sound of his voice.

“What brings you here so early?” He asked, stepping closer and effectively caging her between him and the lockers.

“I’m always here early. Cheer practice,” she explained, her eyes searching the empty hallway for an escape.

“Good to know.” One of his hands came down to cup her waist, sliding her closer to him. His other hand gripped her chin, tilting her face up to look him in the eyes.

“Yep. Yeah. Good to know,” she agreed, flinching slightly when the first bell rang. People started to filter into the hallways and they broke apart.

“Meet me in the woods behind school during lunch,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and kissing her cheek quickly.

“O-ok,” she stammered, but he was long gone, not having bothered to wait and hear her answer.

Taglist here

@angelsarecallin @sebby-staan @niviiera @chaoticgurl @evqans @slut-for-matt-murdock @multihaven @tinyboxxtink @hold-our-destiny @weh-heh-heh @battiebabe216 @captain-satan @avril-reblog-cave @dragon-ash13 @stxvercgersslut @fangirl199812 @variety-fangirl @buckybeefybarnes @strangerthings64 @baddestbiddiesonly @the-obscurity @racyreverie @ches65 @onxlymnsn @e-girl-on-the-server

(Lmk if u want to be added)

#stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #secret admirer series 💌

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passionfruitbowls · 5 months

Text

eternal promise

Among all their frantic preparations for the holidays, Marinette and Adrien still find the time to make a heartfelt confession.

rated: g | pairing(s): adrienette | word count: 1k

read on ao3

—————

“Wait, when did we buy Nativity-themed ceramic plates?” Marinette asks, peeling away the bubble wrap to get a better look at this unusual discovery. Her and Adrien are currently in the middle of decorating their apartment for Christmas, but thanks to numerous distractions and a surprise akuma attack, they haven’t made as much progress as they would’ve liked.

“Oh! Tom gave them to me when we moved here.” Adrien explains while placing the carrots in the freezer (well, more like shoving, since there’s so little room). “He said they’ve been sitting in that box for years, so we might as well have them.”

“Huh. Guess that’s why I’ve never seen them before. They do look kind of dated.”

Marinette notices Adrien hesitate slightly before talking about her dad. He’s still getting used to being on a first-name basis (something her parents had insisted on, since he’s part of the family now), but it’s clear from the way he smiles that it makes him happy. It's a welcome change from the formality of Mr and Mrs Dupain-Cheng, not to mention the coldness he used to receive from his own father, which they don’t like to dwell on.

Moving the plates off to the side, Marinette refocuses her attention on the main objective of the day. An abundance of lights are scattered across the dining table, the wires entangled and the plugs buried beneath the mess. Somewhere behind her, a cupboard opens, bags and packets are moved around, then the cupboard closes again.

“Consider the groceries sorted.” Adrien pipes up, dusting off his hands as he comes over to her. “What next, my lady?”

Barely suppressing a smile, Marinette gestures vaguely at the table.

“We still have to work our way through… all of this.”

“Got any ideas about how we’re going to do that?” He asks, in that tone he always uses when she’s trying to hatch a plan after summoning a Lucky Charm.

“Okay… I take one end of the wire, you take the other, and hopefully we’ll meet in the middle?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Twenty minutes later, it becomes clear that untangling this beast will take a while, even with their ability to work in tandem. Tikki gets roped into helping, and Plagg follows suit after being promised an extra stash of cheese. Ten more minutes pass, and Marinette begins to feel like she’ll go ballistic if she sees another knot. Ten minutes after that, success at last.

“Chaton, can you do me a favour? Write down somewhere that we shouldn’t randomly shove all the Christmas things in a box the next time we’re packing.” She says after a celebratory fist bump.

“On it.”

Before Marinette can clarify that she didn’t mean right away, Adrien makes a beeline for the hallway, picks up her collection of post-it notes and scribbles down her reminder. She has to give him credit for his diligence. It’s one of the things she loves about him, as well as his supportiveness, his jokes (even if his timing can be terrible), his laughter, which always makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside-

“Marinette? We, uh, still have to actually hang the lights up on the wall.” He says with a little smile on his face, and damn it, how can he look so cute even when he’s doing nothing?

“Oh! Riiight. Right. I totally remembered that. Anyway, let’s get going.”

They’d decided beforehand that, due to his height advantage, Adrien was going to stand on top of a chair and do most of the hanging, with Marinette supporting him to compensate for them not having a ladder. Both of her arms are wrapped firmly around his waist; it’s slightly awkward, but they’ve been in worse situations.

“So, how do you feel about doing this every year for the rest of our lives?” He asks suddenly, while leaning over the mantelpiece. It’s obvious that he meant it in a humorous way, but it takes everything in her to not stumble backwards in shock and send him flying.

“I… I don’t know.” She says, much quieter than she’d intended.

“What do you mean?”

Marinette’s heart lurches, and she immediately tries thinking of a way to explain herself so Adrien won’t get the wrong impression.

“It’s- I’m not saying that it would be a bad thing. It wouldn’t be bad at all! I- I love being around you, and doing things with you, and the idea of us having a future together makes me so, so happy, but…”

“But what?” He whispers, his voice filled with concern. Her legs feel weak. She wishes they were face-to-face.

“…I guess I wasn’t expecting us to make such a big commitment so soon. I didn’t know if you were ready for that, and I never want to scare you or pressure you into anything.”

“My lady,” Adrien says as he climbs off the chair and turns to look her in the eye. “If you asked me to spend a lifetime with you I’d do it in a heartbeat, you can trust me on that. I mean, we’ve already gone through a milestone together, haven’t we? We’ve got our own apartment now!”

Marinette can’t help but smile and nod.

Sometimes, it feels a little surreal knowing that there are things and places in this world which belong to her and Adrien and no one else. Their lucky charms, made with the utmost of care as a display of friendship and, eventually, love. Their rooftop meeting point for patrols, for playing leisurely games of cards while talking endlessly. Their home, where his gorgeous face is the first thing she sees in the morning and the last thing she sees at night.

“Yeah, that’s true. And we’ll always have each other’s backs, right?” Marinette asks. She already knows the answer, but it feels wonderful to hear him say it.

“Always, with or without the masks.”

As if by instinct, they melt into each other’s embrace, and for a moment it’s as though all of their troubles are gone. Marinette wishes she could hold onto this moment forever, wrap it up neatly and place a little bow on top.

“I love you.” Adrien says faintly in her ear.

“I love you too, minou.” She whispers back, blushing like she always does.

They eventually separate, but judging by the way his eyes keep darting to her lips, it’s clear that he has things other than Christmas decorations on his mind. Besides, she thinks to herself as she reaches out and cups his face, pulling him close, the baubles can wait.

#WE’RE SO BACK i say as i yeet this fic at you #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #adrienette #adrinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #pfb writes

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laheysdork · 3 years

Text

cliché - dylan o’brien (teacher!dylan)

request: (x)

word count: 0.8k

warnings: there’s a little age gap here but it’s not really specified (i’m thinking the reader’s probably like 24/25 while dylan is 30)

a/n: felt like posting my first dylan fic todayyy 👀 idk how to feel about this like i LOVE the idea so much but idk if i wrote it well??? hope yall like teacher!dyl as much as i do! and i’m so sorry that this is so shorttt

masterlist

imagine being in a zoom class with him okay moving on

Tapping your toes, you are waiting impatiently for your morning coffee order in the cafe right next to your campus. You lean on the counter, watching the barista prepare your drink. It’s your first day of your masters degree, unsure of what’s waiting ahead of you. You’ve heard from other seniors that your master is supposedly different from your bachelor, having to handle a pile of assignments along with bigger projects altogether.

“Y/N.” You hear the barista calls. You nod and gave him a small smile before grabbing your coffee. But just as you turn around to leave, you are met with the sight of a man’s chest right in front of you. Not having any time to process what happened, you bump right into him, spilling your newly bought coffee all over his tidy shirt.

Gosh, you’re such a klutz, Y/N.

Cursing under your breath, you immediately take some tissues from the counter, shamelessly trying to clean your drink that is now on him.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize hastily, still rubbing his shirt in an aimless attempt to get the soaked coffee off his attire. But you are soon stopped by a strong grip on your wrist, immediately halting all of your movements.

“It’s fine. There’s barely any stain,” a deep voice reassure you despite the obvious brown patch on his shirt. You look up, finally seeing the owner of the voice. The brunette’s honey eyes stare right into yours. His features are warm and soft but also sharp and charismatic at the same time, thanks to the stubble beard decorating his face.

“No, really, I feel bad. How do I make it up to you?” you question desperately, feeling more guilty now that he’s actually nice about it.

“If you’re really insisting, you can take me out for a treat then,” he suggests with a light tone, his lips pressing into a genuine smile.

“Okay, well-“ You pause, catching a glimpse of the digital clock on the wall. You squint your eyes, making sure what you are seeing was right before you gasp.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry but I have a class to attend to in like 3 minutes, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make it up to you!” you frantically ramble while walking away backward, before immediately fleeing after the last sentence, too panicked to give him a chance to reply.

────── ˋ*✧₊∘

Finally seated in the hall, you let out a long sigh of relief. Apparently, despite being late for a few minutes, the professor is still nowhere to be found.

If only you knew your professor would be late, you would’ve stayed back a little longer to ask for the cute coffee guy’s number.

“Good morning everyone,” a voice you recognize echoes around the vast hall as your head shoots up faster than a bullet.

Yup, it was him. Your little cafe crush. How cliché.

The sight of the familiar man causes you to internally scream out of embarrassment, your jaw dropping to the floor, totally dumbfounded.

Could this get any worse?

“I’m sorry for being late. I swear I’m not those annoying slow professors and I really hate making a bad first impression but clearly the universe has other plans.” He gestures to the coffee stain on his shirt, the one that you caused by the way, as light laughter fills the hall.

And, it just did.

Despite his humorous intent, you can only bury your head in your palms, silently dying. He proceeds to his table to unpack his bag, zipping the front pocket open and taking out a marker.

“But anyway, welcome to advanced econ 101,” he scribbles messily on the board as he enunciates each word.

“I’m Dylan and I will be your lecturer for this semester so bear with me,” he introduces himself, heading back to the table to set his laptop.

Once, he’s done, he clasps his hands together. “Okay, let’s start with the class shall we?”

────── ˋ*✧₊∘

Chattering fills the hall once again, the long lecture finally coming to an end. You do not waste a single second as you dump all your things into your back, quickly shuffling on your feet to exit the building. As you are about to pass the front of the hall, you duck your head low in hopes that your awfully attractive teacher will not notice your presence. But just as you thought you are going to get away with it, you hear his voice call.

“Hey, you!” Panicked, you halt in your tracks, standing frozen unable to move.

“Yes, you, grey sweater, jeans, white shoes,” he declares the outfit you are wearing which gives you no choice but to face him.

Collecting the crumbling courage you have left, you finally turn around, approaching him nervously. “Yes, is there something wrong?”

“Yeah, you promised to make it up to me,” he grins, making you chuckle sheepishly.

“I’m a woman of my words,” you reply, your nerves starting to die down a little from his cool response.

“And does she have a name?” he raises his eyebrows.

“Y/N.”

Finally getting to hear your name, his lips curl into a radiant smile.

“Okay, Y/N, how about you give me your number so you can pay for the coffee you owe me.” His arm reaches out to hand him his phone.

The universe really does love its clichés.

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tetsurouskuro · 4 years

Text

Reunion

pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, slight angst, breeding kink, unprotected sex, public sex, bokuto does the kabedon

word count: 5,006

a/n: this is my submission for the Haikyuu Headquarters second NSFW server collab! this time it’s the prompt “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” you can find the masterlist HERE by the amazing @vixen-scribbles who is my queen so go give her a follow! 💖

thank you @deathcab4daddy & @gallickingun for beta reading, ily guys so much (go give them a follow if you aren’t already)! 💖

now enjoy; feedback is always appreciated! <3

tag list: @miamiya (message me if you want to be included)

Synopsis: Three years has passed since you got your heart broken by your one true love Bokuto Koutarou. A high school reunion is about to take place at Fukurodani Academy. What will happen when you finally meet your ex boyfriend?

MASTERLIST!

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Your eyes scanned the invitation card from your high school. Reading every word that’s written. A high school reunion. The thought alone makes you think of him. Wondering how he’s doing. He may be your ex and the boy who broke your heart, but he was your first and still to this day, your only love, and you knew why he did it. He had his reasons.

He had talked you through it before you both graduated high school. He had told you that he wanted to focus on volleyball and that he was going to move away from Tokyo, and you were not the type to try and stop him. You wanted him to succeed. You also had to think about your future and what you wanted to achieve. Both of you went your separate ways, heartbroken that you could not be together anymore.

Bokuto succeeded in achieving his dream. He was playing in big arenas with huge crowds, on TV and he was a well-known volleyball player. The number 4 ace and captain from Fukurodani made it big, just like he promised you all those years ago.

You sighed and placed the card onto your fridge. There was still one week left until the reunion, and it wasn’t like Bokuto would show up. He was busy with volleyball, especially since a new season just started.

You sigh and turn around to grab the warm coffee cup and head to your couch. Once seated you turn on Netflix and start a random show. Grabbing your phone, you go to the search bar on Facebook and search for your ex-boyfriend. Once the two of you had broken up you had unfriended him immediately. You knew it was going to be hard to get over him, so to save you from having to see his posts and face on Facebook, you removed him.

He’s the first one that pops up. You share mutual friends, so it isn’t that weird. You go to pictures and see him with all sorts of different people, smiling and laughing. Sometimes even looking, upset?

Sighing you close the application, lock your phone, and toss it next to you on the couch. Closing your eyes, you throw your head back against the headrest, hoping and praying that Bokuto doesn’t show up to the reunion.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Wearing a black evening gown with a front slit, thin shoulder straps, and a pair of black heels you step into the big gymnasium where the rest of all the third years are gathered. A waitress walks up to you with a tray in hand, offering you a welcome drink, probably champagne. You take a glass and nod your thanks. Taking a sip, you sigh and take in your surroundings. People are standing in groups, chatting, and laughing. You see Yamato, Konoha, Haruki, Yukie, and Kaori in the middle. Konoha looks your way and you lock eyes. He smiles widely and waves you over. The rest of the gang turns around and sees you too, all of them start to yell at you to rush over.

You smile at them and head towards the squad.

“(y/n)! you’re here!” Yukie excitedly exclaims.

“Yes. Here I am,” you laugh. “How’s everyone? Haven’t seen you all in ages.”

You stand there talking with everyone. You chug the rest of your glass and turn around to grab another just as a round of applause is heard. You follow everyone’s gaze and see someone enter the gymnasium.

“Hey, hey, heeeeeey!” The voice echoes. A familiar voice.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You chant and shove your champagne glass to Yukie. “I need to use the loo.”

“Wait- (y/n)!” She yells after you, but you’re already headed for the door that leads you towards the nearest toilet.

Your heart is beating hard, you can feel your pulse rising. Adrenaline has kicked in and you feel nervous. You’re breathing heavily as you reach the door, turning around slightly to just peek at the man that has made you react this way.

He hasn’t spotted you yet. He’s surrounded by girls and boys, welcoming their former ace to the reunion. You stand there, the door slightly opened, your body halfway through the doorframe and take him in.

He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a matching black tee, black vans, and a light blue jean jacket. His hair is spiked the same way as usual and his golden eyes are filled with happiness. He laughs loudly and scans the room like he’s looking for someone and then his orbs land on you. The way he gazes at you makes your whole-body shiver and you feel like you can’t breathe. You stand still, watching him watch you for a second more until you turn your body back and go through the door and towards the ladies’ room.

Once inside you stand by the door, back against it, trying to control your breathing.

Okay (y/n), calm down! Act normal and don’t freak out!

After 5 minutes you turn around and push the door and walk out, walking back to the gymnasium. You pass a hallway when suddenly-

“(y/n)?”

“Jesus fucking christ!” You jump. “Don’t scare me like that.” You exclaim and turn around and are met with a pair of golden eyes.

“Ah sorry,” Bokuto speaks, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “I just wanted to see how you were feeling. You rushed out so fast.”

“I’m fine,” you sigh. “I just needed to use the toilet.”

“Oh. Okay.” There’s a long pause. Both of you are silent.

“Bokuto-kun!” A female voice yells out, interrupting the awkward silence and you turn around to see where the female is.

“I should head back. Yukie is probably waiting for me,” you lie. “It was nice seeing you Bokuto,” you smile at him and turn around to leave, but he grabs you by the forearm and pulls you towards him.

“Let’s take a walk around the school. I don’t wanna head back just yet.”

“Bokuto I-“

“Please (y/n)? I haven’t seen you in ages and I just wanna talk.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

“Great,” he smiles. “Let’s go then!” He grabbed your hand instead and intertwined his fingers with yours as he dragged you down the hallway and escaped the voice of the girl that was calling his name.

He suddenly stops outside of your old classroom and you both stand there, panting and trying to control each other’s breathing.

“Felt like a teenager doing that,” he laughs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just need a moment.” Still panting, you stay silent, and watch his tall frame. You stand up straight and clear your throat. Bokuto turns his body sideways and looks at you.

“Do you think it’s open?”

“I don’t know, but what do you wanna talk about Bokuto?” You speak up, wanting to get away from this situation. “We broke up. We’re exes, we’re not supposed to be like this.”

The silence returns, Bokuto’s eyes never leaving yours. You watch him, still out of breath you feel an aching pain in your chest. You fist both of your hands beside your body, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“I- shit,” you curse and let out a small laugh. “I need to leave.” You’re just about to turn around when Bokuto’s right arm slams itself on the wall to your left, stopping you in your tracks. You press your back to the wall and raise your head so you can meet his gaze. His tall frame towering over you.

“Don’t,” he sighs. “Don’t leave.” You don’t listen to his plea and try to leave again but this time he slams his left arm on the wall, caging you in.

“Bokuto. Let me go!”

“No!”

“I- What?”

“I came to this reunion mainly so I could see you,” he pauses before continuing. “I made up my mind that if you came, I would try to get you back, ‘cause I still fucking love you.” His golden eyes stare right into yours. You can see the determination in them.

“The way we broke things off, I should never have ended it that way. We shouldn’t have ended it that way. If I could go back and change it, I would’ve made you come with me. I was stupid to let you go.”

“Bokuto, I-“

“And stop calling me Bokuto!” he fumes. “You never called me that while we were dating and-“

“We’re not dating now!” You respond, interrupting him.

“I know!” He slams his right fist on the wall, making you jump. You have never seen Bokuto this upset before, not even when you broke up.

“I’m sorry. Shit (y/n) I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I-“

“It’s okay, Bo! It’s… fine,” you sigh out that last word. You let your head hang low, watching the ground, seeing how close his body is to you. You gulp, trying to contain your thoughts. You haven’t had any sexual contact with anyone for as long as you can remember, and seeing Bokuto now, here, this close makes you clench your thighs together. But you would not let your sexual desires over him take over. If he wanted you back, he had to tell you, and apologize.

“When I- We broke up I did it because I wanted to focus on volleyball.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Wait, let me finish.” You stay silent and let him continue.

“I wanted you to come with me, I wanted you with me so badly and I thought that I couldn’t let you come with me because I didn’t want you to stop chasing your dreams. Volleyball was my ambition, not yours.” He pauses for a second, collecting his thoughts and breathing before continuing.

“But I was wrong and dumb. I didn’t ask what you wanted, I just assumed and chose for you. I should’ve talked it out with you, asked you if you wanted to come with me and I didn’t. I fucked up,” he takes a deep breath before yet again continuing talking, expressing his emotions.

“Over these past few years, I haven’t been able to let you go. You were always on my mind. You had taken over my head so bad that I started seeing things. Seeing you on the streets, in the audience while I was playing. I never stopped thinking about you. I even stalked your Facebook multiple times and-”

“You stalked my Facebook?” You look up, watching him. Your heart beating fast against your ribcage.

“Yeah, not my proudest moment but I did. I needed to see your face, needed to see what you were doing, and if you were seeing someone. If you were as miserable as I was,” he sighs, his eyes watching yours. “Please (y/n) I am desperate. I want you back. Give me a second chance. I need you back in my life. If you just give me a small chance, I will prove it to you that I will be one of the best decisions you’ll ever make.”

Bokuto sighs out loudly, like he was in pain, and places a kiss on top of your head before sinking so his eyes are in front of yours. His face just mere inches from yours.

“Just give me one chance. Just one so I can have you back. I want you (y/n). I want to be able to call you mine again. I just need one-“

You decide to instead of using words you crash your lips against his. Cutting him off mid-sentence, wrapping your arms around his neck. It only takes Bokuto a few seconds to respond by kissing you back, his body pressing itself close to yours, his forearms bracing him on the wall.

You break off the kiss, bite your lip, and look into his golden shimmering eyes. “I never stopped loving you either.”

“Really? I expected you to have a boyfriend or fiancé by now.”

“No,” you groan. “I tried dating, but nobody compares to you.” He smiles widely at your words. Like a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’ll try to give you everything I can Bo, I’ll try-“

“Everything means nothing if I can’t have you (y/n)!” Blushing you look down, but Bokuto grabs your face in his hands and presses a kiss on your lips again. And again. You fist a handful of his shirt in your palms and press your body close to his, feeling his semi poking you and showing how much he wants you.

“You’re mine, (y/n). I love you so much,” he moans against your lips and then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth. His hands moving to grab your ass, pushing your pelvis against his. “I’m gonna prove it to you. I need you now. No time to waste.”

He pushes himself off you and turns around, trying to open your old classroom door and to his luck it does. His wide smile is back as he ushers you in.

“Wait- Bo! We can’t, not here.”

“Aww c’mon baby, it’ll be fun and besides,” he pauses, still looking at you as he undoes his belt. “I always wanted to fuck you in this classroom back in the day.”

His sentence makes you hurry inside, and you look around the now unfamiliar classroom. You hear Bokuto close and lock the door, the sound of his zipper being pulled down makes you turn around and face him. His pants are undone but still around his hips.

“Come here baby,” obeying, you take a few steps forward and stop once you’re in front of him. Both of his hands grab you by the waist and pull you forward, his lips instantly crashing to yours. His lips don’t stay on yours too long as they start to travel down the side of your neck towards your exposed collarbone. While his lips are giving your upper body some attention, his hands push your dress up, exposing your black lace thong to his fingertips.

Bokuto recognizes the material and stops his movements just so he can peek at your underwear. He grunts.

“Do you… like them?”

“I love them, baby. Jesus Christ.” Bokuto’s lips return to yours, his index and middle finger tracing the outline of your slit, making you squirm. He then removes them and ushers you to get up on one of the desks, and you do, but not before you remove your thong as sexy as you can, and throw it on the ground nearby.

“Babe, you’re gonna be the death of me!” he exclaims in a groan and hurries back to you. His body standing between your thighs. A slight breeze passes making you shudder, your nipples peek through your dress. Bokuto notices this and instantly with both of his hands, he pushes your dress down your arms and chest, making your breast spring free.

“Haven’t touched these girls in years,” he speaks while palming them both. “So beautiful.”

“Bo- I-“

“Shh love. It’s all about you now,” he removes his right hand just so he can tease your opening. Lubricating your core with your wetness before inserting a finger inside you, making you moan and throw your head back.

“Baby. Look at me,” he groans. You pull your head back and watch him. He removes his left hand and places it beside you, bracing all his weight on it while his other hand is occupied with your cunt. His finger going in and out of you, your walls clamping around him tightly. He snickers at how wet you feel around him and adds another finger, his middle and ring finger are fucking you slowly, too slow for your liking.

“Bokuto, please. I want more,” you moan.

“Easy now baby, I wanna savor this moment. Feeling your wet cunt around my fingers after such a long time,” he grunts. “God baby, you’re so wet.”

“I know, it’s all for you Bokuto.”

He licks his lips seductively and leans in closer to you, his breath hits your neck and makes your whole body shudder. His tongue comes out and licks you up from your collarbone to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you let out a sigh in pleasure.

“Do you like that, hmm?” He snickers. “Do you like my fingers inside you (y/n)?”

“Y-Yes Bo, I-I love them,” you moan. He lets out a slight “fuck” as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and thrusts his digits harder inside your wet and aching core. Wanting you to cum so badly. He arches his fingers inside you, making them hit your g-spot.

“Bo, please. I’m so close,” you groan. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You keep on whining to him, the once familiar feeling returning to the pit of your stomach. The pressure in your lower abdomen is getting higher and higher. Your legs start to shake and in just a couple of seconds, you’re releasing yourself around his fingers, your right-hand wraps itself around his wrist, nails digging into his soft skin as you moan out loudly from orgasming.

“Kou!” you scream, your walls clamping themselves around him, his fingers still going in and out of you, your legs shaking and your pelvis grinding itself on his hand. Eyes closed and mouth wide open and panting, trying to get your breathing under control.

After a minute, you open your eyes and are met by a smug smile as he removes his fingers and raises his hand to his lips, licking your juices off his fingers while still maintaining eye contact with you.

“I missed the taste of you baby,” he groans. His long fingers going inside that beautiful mouth of his. A big smile on his lips, his excitement palpable.

Once he has licked his fingers clean, he moves his hands to his pants and starts to pull them down his long legs along with his briefs, his cock springing free and colliding with his lower abdomen. Precum leaking from the tip.

Your eyes are glued on his hard member. It’s as beautiful as you remember, two veins going around his shaft, the pink head craving attention.

Your eyes never leave his crotch as his hand goes down and wraps itself around his hard cock, moving up and down slowly.

“You’re so eager, I love it baby, so sexy when you look at me like that,” his voice speaks, making you look up and meet his golden eyes. He takes a small step forward and with his hand that’s around his cock he traces your lips, mixing his precum with your wetness.

“Wait Kou- Condom!” You moan. The fact that you managed to even utter those words surprised you, but you didn’t know who he’s been with.

“I didn’t bring one,” he answers. “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you instead,” he groans and rams himself inside you. Your walls clenching around him tightly. Your heat making his cock twitch from excitement.

“Fuck Kou, you- you feel amazing.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. I can feel you pulsating around me.” He’s still for a moment, letting you get used to him. Had he gotten bigger since you last were with him? Or had it just been such a long time since you’ve had sex? It didn’t matter to you, you loved the feeling of him stretching your walls, making your tight cunt ache for him to move.

His hips backtrack only to force themself back to you, colliding and hitting your g-spot, making you throw your head back and grip the edge of the table hard. Your eyes are closed as you take in all the pleasure that he’s giving you. He repeats the same action, he grunts and you moan at the friction.

“Baby look at me,” he moans, his hand going to your cheek, holding it with his large palm. “I want you to look at me.”

You answer him by moaning, opening your (y/e/c) eyes looking at him, pleasure displayed on his handsome face as he starts to increase both his speed and the power of his thrusts. His hips colliding against yours with a strong force. The pleasure is displayed on your face, a lewd look as you’re loving the way he continues to ram himself inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum inside of that pretty cunt, baby. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he moans loudly, not caring if anyone hears him. He loved the excitement of knowing you could get busted having sex in your old classroom but he didn’t care. He had craved you for 3 long years and he wasn’t going to let this moment pass up.

“I want a future with you,” he continues. “I want to marry you. I want to get you pregnant.”

This makes your cunt clench for him. Your walls clamping themselves tightly around him. Marrying him? Pregnant?

"Oh, you'd like that baby? You want me to breed you, baby?" His thrust hits hard, his cock going deep into your core. His eyes travel down, watching his cock going and out of you. The wetness surrounding it like lube, making it easy for him to thrust in and out of you. His gaze is locked on where both of you connect, watching the way your cunt swallows him whole.

"Fuck baby. Beg for me to fill you, I know you love the feel of my cum inside you."

"Oh god Kou, please fill me with your cum. Breed me," you almost sing. Your voice is filled with all kinds of emotions, pleasure consuming you.

"You want me to breed you, baby? Fill you up with all my sperm," he moans, his hands holding your hips in place as his thrusts got deeper and deeper inside you. The tip of his cock grazing your g-spot viciously, the pressure in your abdomen getting stronger after each thrust. The thought of you swollen with his child made him even harder and closer to reaching his climax.

"Cum for me baby, I want you to cum for me. Cum with me. I'm so close," his thrusts get sloppier and you know he is near his release.

"Cum with me Koutarou. Let's do it together."

"Fuck (y/n)," his whole body stills as he ejaculates inside you. The warmth of his semen spurting in you, coating your walls and you follow him soon afterward. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you coat his cock with your release.

Your body is shaking from the intense orgasm you just had, your teeth biting into your lower lip and you feel him move, his still hard cock going in and out of you. Bokuto is making sure that his cum doesn’t come out, to make sure you’re bred and hoping you get pregnant from this.

"Mhm Kou," you moan. Your eyes glance up to his face. A big smile was plastered on his lips.

"That was so hot baby. I want more."

"I don't think I can stand," you giggle. His eyes are watching you, the smile on your face making his heart squeeze harder and being filled with all his love for you.

"What now?" Your tender voice asks.

"I'm waiting."

"... On what?"

"For you to calm down before I go for round two,” he smirks.

“W-Wait. Hold on. Round two?”

“You didn’t think I was already finished with you, baby? I’m just getting started.” With that being said, he flips you over. The action making his cock get pulled out from your heat.

You’re bent over and your front is pressed against the now warm desk. His hands start to caress your body, from the base of your neck to your naked ass. He gives your ass some attention before slapping each cheek, making you jump from the sudden action.

"I could just cum from the sight of you," he grunts. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, to make sure you're bred."

"Kou-tarou~," you moan as he enters you without warning, his cock rock hard and coated in both your juices and his semen. His hands holding your hips still as he thrusts deep inside you. Ramming his cock hard into your wet and tight core. His fingertips are digging hard into your flawless skin, leaving a mark but you don’t care. The only thing that’s going through your mind right now is the way his cock is pounding into your wet and swollen cunt.

"I won't stop until you're dripping with my cum, to be sure you're pregnant with my child," he almost screams. "Jesus fuck baby the way you clench around me is wonderful."

Your cunt clenches harder around his cock, the thought of being pregnant with his child makes you reach some kind of bliss that you never thought you could. The soft image pops up in your mind for a second, but it’s soon gone as one of his hands grabs your shoulder, his other following suit.

You can feel his semen leaking out as he continues to ram into you, and you know he notices it cause he lets out a snicker.

"My cum is seeping out of your pussy, but I'll fill you up again baby. I'll fill you up again and again."

"Kou- I'm gonna cum again," you moan. Your left hand holding the edge of the desk while your right one is in front of you, trying to grab something and it does as Bokuto's right hand comes forward and intertwines with yours, clamping around it. His body pressed against yours. Feeling his breath on your neck.

"Say it, baby, say what I want to hear."

"P-Put a baby inside me Koutarou please."

"Fuck yes," he moans vocally, biting down on your neck as he fills your cunt with his cum, the feel of his cum inside you again makes you clench around him and you reach your climax.

"Yeah, my cum makes you orgasm so fucking hard right baby?"

"Mhm," you answer, too worn out to even form your own words.

You press the side of your face on the desk and close your eyes. You're breathing heavily, so is Bokuto. His warm breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps form on all of your body.

"(y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm getting soft."

"Oh my god!" You giggle.

"Stop. You're making me fall out, stop it!" This makes you laugh out loud, this man who just minutes ago went all sex god on you is now filled with concern.

"Are you alright though? I wasn't too hard? Or rough? Or-"

"Baby, you were perfect," you answer in a giggle, interrupting his worrying self.

There's a comfortable silence surrounding you both, not a single word is uttered. The only sound is the sound of your breathing.

Suddenly you feel him move and pull himself out of you. Bokuto is fast with tucking himself inside his briefs and pulling his pants up, buckling his belt too. While doing this, you feel his cum seeping out from your hole.

"Hold on I'm on it," his voice speaks and you can hear him look for something to clean you up with. "This will do."

He's back fast and with some paper towels that are not very nice to your lady parts, and he cleans you up. The feeling of the paper made you wince, both from being sensitive and roughly fucked by your ex and now boyfriend, but also from the paper not being soft enough for your liking.

"I'm done, there," he softly speaks, his voice filled with tenderness but also worry, that it was hurting you. He wasn't. He was doing something so much more, and you loved him for that.

Getting up and getting dressed was the part where it got uncomfortable for you, his eyes stared at you as you dressed, fixing both your gown and hair, making it not look like you’ve just been fucked.

Your thoughts wander to what had just happened. Was this just some kind of roleplay or did he want to impregnate you? Not that it mattered for you, you couldn’t care less because you got what you had wanted for years. Him.

Once you’re done you turn around and see that Bokuto is already watching you, a big smile on his lips.

"What?"

"Nothing. You’re just so beautiful I can stare at you all night.”

"I-" you blush. “Thank you.”

"Now,” he says as he takes a small step forward and grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. His smile still there and you can see how his eyes are glowing.

“I love you,” he kisses you. “I love you so much (y/n). You’re the love of my life.”

"Again."

"Huh?" He turns his head to the side, not knowing what you mean.

"Say it again. I need to hear it again." With confidence, he grabs your face in his hands and holds you in place. His eyes watching yours and with the softest smile on his lips, he says:

"I love you.”

"I love you too." You sigh in happiness and he seals your lips with a passionate kiss. Both of you smiling through the kiss in pure bliss.

He pulls away and grabs your hand and starts to lead you out of the classroom and in the opposite direction of the party. Confusion consumes you as you speak.

"Kou, baby. The party is that way," you giggle and point down the other side of the hall.

"I know. We're not returning."

"We're not?" You ask in confusion.

"No."

"Why not?" He stops in his tracks and you collide with his rock hardback. He turns around, smirking.

"We have 3 years of lovemaking to do and I want you in my bed when doing that." He returns and walks you out and into the parking lot, leading to his car and a future of you and him together again. Nothing could stop you now.

#haikyuu!!#bokuto koutarou #haikyuu!! smut #hqhq server collab #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #sanda writes #my writing #smut

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h2bakugou · 3 years

Note

Yes yes yes yesyesyesyesyes ok!! So then can I request present mic? Doing anything??? No I’m kidding I do actually have a prompt. I was thinking abt mic’s radio show and specifically, if he had an s/o who wrote music. Bc u know he would help them produce it and then play it nonstop on air aaaaaa

a/n: yes!! present mic love!! i love him so much i swear! <3 he has my heart dkdkmn this is such a cute request please- i apologize for the late posting!!

summary: you're an ambitious, gleeful, songbird at heart, and though you're quirkless, you've captivated the heart of the music-loving, radio show hosting, loud, sweetheart, present mic!

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 1.3k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

You started as an intern. A beaming smile on your lips most days, always happy to be in the studio with Mic when he was teaching you the ins and outs of radio hosting.

You'd majored in music business, the end goal in mind of writing and releasing your own music, though most of your plans had fallen through, the only opportunity to get you back on your feet after college being this deal you couldn't pass up.

Co-hosting with Present Mic on his own radio show.

The offer had actually been given to you by one of your superiors at the studio you worked at, having seen your optimism when it came to writing music and your love of music in general.

They wished you good luck and would always welcome you back if things didn't go so well. But you kept your head up high and marched into that studio ready to take on the world alongside the loud blonde.

And down the line, three years later, you were surprised to say the least.

"Your coffee as usual." Hizashi sets down the patriotic blue U.A. thermos sent out to the teachers at the beginning of the year. Since you'd practically moved in 'unofficially' with Mic, unofficially because you weren't technically allowed to stay due to the fact you didn't work for the school, rather employed by Mic himself in his private studio, but you were the tiny exception since you did technically work in the school.

"Thanks! Hey, I was wondering if you could check this new thing I've been working on and give me some criticism, it's just a rough draft, the lyrics just kind of came to me after a shot or two at Vlad's birthday party the other night." You giggled as you tossed him the flash drive containing your latest project, the sensitive information contained on the tiny disc landing in the palm of your boyfriend's hands.

"Another song? You're blessing my ears so early in the morning. I'm dreaming! Pinch me!" He teases. Mic's been the biggest supporter of your music since he overheard the pipes you had.

You'd had that kind of night the second week of your internship, battling the oncoming hangover after drinking with your cool new pro-hero teacher friends, your thoughts turning to lyrics as you worked in the studio, the only light being the small lamp on the side Mic kept when he worked late too.

He'd forgotten his room keys in the studio again, something you realized he did often and as he stopped by to pick them back up, that's when he heard you. You sounded so angelic, almost as if you were some sort of angel.

At first, he thought maybe it was just a recording or some sort of dare he say, Melodyne filter while you were messing around in the mic at night.

But you weren't. Your authentic voice shell-shocked him, and he sort of listened to you the entire night until you nearly pissed your pants turning around and seeing him.

“Yeah, it’s nothing special really-” You’re back to reality as Mic quickly has his headphones over his ears, a large grin on his lips as he listens, his fingers tapping away to the beat already.

You work on other tasks, filtering through requests and putting them in the queue while Mic listens to your song, his heart pounding. You were so talented and he’d wish you’d give yourself a bit more credit. You have what it takes to make it big, and he’d support you every step of the way.

“You know with this and the other tracks you have, you’d have enough to push out an EP. All you need is a bit of marketing and producing, and I’d be more than willing to help!” Mic smiles, wheeling over to you, pressing an encouraging peck to your cheek.

“It sounds great, but who would wanna listen to what I write?” You giggle, toggling an advertisement as you glance over at the blonde.

“How about this, You let me help you, I’ll spread the trial around here at work and if it gets good reviews, we publish.” Hizashi is nothing short of persuasive, and for the rest of the week he has you in his studio, adding layer after layer, fine-tuning and weeding out bits of the collection of songs you’d written until you have an EP.

Long nights fueled by coffee, water, and tea, and takeout eventually land you with the very first copy of your own EP.

In your hands, it’s palpable. It’s real. It doesn’t have any cover art, or a title, let alone who sang it, but Mic hands you a sharpie and you feel this fire coursing through your veins.

You feel more than accomplished.

You scribble some title down that you’d work on later and messily sign your name for Mic to make copies and then throughout the next week, you’ve got dozens of messages flooding your inbox telling you to drop it on some streaming platforms.

And the following night Mic is consoling your tears as you hit your first 100 streams.

“I’m so proud of you.” He coos, kissing your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his kisses, patting you on the head.

“You’re so cheesy.” You tease him.

“Says you! You named an entire song after me.” Mic huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What if ‘my beloved’ was about Marty?” You giggle. Marty, the sparkly, beautiful, elegant, beta-fish you’d adopted as the studio mascot swam around in his tank, decked out with super cool aquatic music themed stuff.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Mic laughs, his long blonde hair sweeping over his shoulders.

“Your hair always looks so nice down.” You snuggle into him, your fingers twisting around the ends. Hizashi shakes his head and stares down at you.

“And you’re as radiant as ever, my love.” Hizashi pulls you into him, snuggling his head into your neck, placing a gentle kiss to your skin as he holds you near to him.

“Do you sing, ‘Zashi?” You ask quietly.

“No comment.” Mic giggles, his laughs tickling your skin.

“Would you work on a song with me?” You ask sweetly.

“I would love to.”

Callers chime in every so often for requests, since Mic loves to annoy the listeners by playing your EP track by track almost daily. You have to knock some sense into him telling him that there’s a quota to fill and while you love how he supports you, you’ve got them stuck in your head too.

And when you play them every so often, your heart warms when someone requests one of yours to play. Even more so, when your songs rise to much more notable fame, you’re working on your own album, with the lovely producing of Mic, and it even features a lovely duet between the two of you.

In fact, something you’d found out with having so many connections to pros, was the amount of hidden talent.

You’d requested a song with Kyoka Jiro, the beautiful voice you’d heard at the school festival had belonged to her and you’d been wanting to work with her since she also shared a love for music, and though she was young, she seemed rather happy to sing, even if she might’ve been shy about it first.

An unlikely duo might’ve come from a dare, Hawks. While he was rather against the idea at first, his voice was smooth and mellow, and it clashed with yours perfectly for some sort of sappy anti-romantic love song. Whatever the case, it made charts.

But Mic continued to be your biggest supporter, no matter how or if you got big. You’d always find your way back into his arms, messing around with him on the radio show, and dodging paparazzi whenever you two left campus.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Light Up the Ice - 12

Summary: Aelin Galathynius has never really been into sports. Yes, she likes to keep in shape, and she works out, but watching people run up and down a field, trying to keep a leather ball away from each other? It’s always seemed a bit childish to her, and decidedly NOT a way for a grown adult to make a living.

Rowan Whitethorn has recently been drafted by the Terresen Staghorns, one of best teams in the EHL (Erilean Hockey League). And since he moved to Terresen from Wendlyn, it’s been hard for him to get more than 30 seconds alone from someone demanding a picture with him. Getting drafted straight out of college wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he’s not complaining. Until he accidentally meets a girl. More specifically, until he accidentally meets his neighbor. She seems to have no idea who he is and for some reason, that’s refreshing. But will she still want to be with him once he shows her the truth?

Co-written with @tacmc.

A/N: No tag list tonight. This is the 3rd time I've tried to post this chapter and every single time, it's crashed before I can post or save. AKA I’m about to punch my computer and don’t want to push my luck anymore. Next chapter, I will be copying and pasting my old tag list, deleting the inactive blogs, and adding those who have asked. Enjoy!

It never failed to amaze Aelin how slow business got when the university took their breaks. It was only the second day of the University of Terrasen’s fall break and she’d already had enough spare time to reorganize the stock room, deep clean the kitchen and now, she was sitting at a table in the corner, staring at a print out of her menu.

She chewed on the end of her pen and then drew a line through another item. In the four years she’d had the café, she’d never changed a single menu item. It wasn’t that anyone was complaining about her food, but she was bored with it and wanted to add some new variety. She scribbled some notes in the margin of new recipes she wanted to try to replace the old ones, but the sound of the bell above the door distracted her. She was beaming before she even got out of her chair.

“Hey,” she said, approaching Rowan and Lorcan, pressing a kiss to the cheek of the former and keeping her distance from the former. “How was practice?”

“Good. Save for the fact that I’m still sitting on the bench,” Rowan said, sighing. “Coach said I can be on the ice from now on, as long as I’m still not running drills and agree to see the trainer every day.”

“That’s great,” she said, smiling. “You hungry?”

“Yes, please,” he replied, a lopsided grin on his face.

She headed for the cash register Elide had been sitting at a few moments before. She was now working on rolling silverware father down the counter, quietly humming along to the music that played in the café. “You want the grilled cheese and tomato soup again?”

“Please,” he said, smiling. He turned to his friend and asked, “You want the Reuben, Lor?”

Lorcan didn’t reply. He was staring back towards the door.

Back towards Elide.

“Lorcan?” Rowan said, again, finally getting his teammates’ attention.

“Reuben, yeah, sounds great,” he mumbled, pulling out his wallet.

“Lunch is on me,” Aelin said, eyeing him, not liking the way he turned back to glance at Elide.

She didn’t like the way Elide was sneaking glances at him either.

As she walked behind the counter, Aelin cleared her throat, making Elide jump, her fingers dropping the silverware in which she held. It clattered against the counter.

“Care to give me a hand?” Aelin asked.

Elide blinked. “It’s just two sandwiches-.”

“If the bell rings, you can come back out,” Aelin said, taking Elide by the wrist and dragging her back toward the kitchen. She called back to Rowan and Lorcan, “Make yourselves comfortable!”

Once in the kitchen, Aelin dropped Elide’s wrist and began with the sandwiches.

Elide watched her friend, her boss, skeptically. “Care to tell me what that was about?”

“You were practically drooling over him,” Aelin said, raising an eyebrow as she looked at Elide.

Elide’s cheeks darkened and she hurried around to the other side of the kitchen to get Rowan’s soup. “I was not.”

“You definitely were,” Aelin replied, turning and dropping the grilled cheese on top of the griddle. She may have put more cheese on than she would have for a regular customer and melty, delicious goodness dripped out the surface of the cooktop.

Elide was standing in the alley of the kitchen, looking back through the serving window at Aelin. “And…? So what if I was? He’s hot.”

Aelin fought the urge to roll her eyes. “He’s a hockey player, El. Rowan has told me about how he spends his away games.”

Elide was quiet as she put the soup in the window to stay warm as Aelin finished their sandwiches. If her friend and boss’s back hadn’t been facing her, she probably wouldn’t have had the courage to say, “Wow, Ace, be careful. Your hypocrisy is showing.”

She whirled, pointing a spatula at Elide. “That’s a completely different situation and you know it.”

Elide lifted a brow. “Do I?”

Aelin’s lips thinned. “Yes, you do. At least, you should. Rowan and I… it’s different.”

“If you would have known he was a hockey player, you would’ve never started seeing Rowan,” Elide went on, trying to hide both her frustration and amusement. “The fact that Lorcan plays hockey is all you can see when you look at him.”

Aelin scoffed. “Wrong. All I can see is his jackassery.”

“Jackassery?”

“It’s a word,” Aelin snapped, flipping over the sandwich on the griddle. “And, again, Rowan has told me about his post game activities when they’re on the road.”

“It doesn’t make a difference, I don’t know why you’re even upset about it,” Elide muttered, coming around to the salad station and popping a cucumber slice in her mouth. “He’s Lorcan Salvaterre. He’s the captain of the team. He dates bikini models and actresses. I’m just a broke college student. I’m just…me.”

Aelin’s eyes softened as she turned to one of her oldest friends. “That’s not true, Elide. You are a phenomenal, beautiful, smart woman, and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind. Including yourself.”

Elide’s cheeks darkened, slightly, as she tried to fight the smile growing. “I’m going to go finish my silverware. Holler if you need me.”

Aelin nodded and watched as she pushed through the swinging door to the dining room. She finished up the sandwiches before grabbing Rowan’s soup and carrying them out front.

While she and Elide had been in the kitchen, Fenrys had appeared, a fast food bag open in front of him. She chuckled as she sat down Rowan and Lorcan’s food. “You know I would have cooked for you.”

His mouth was full of a massive bite of hamburger, so Lorcan answered for him. “He also knows coach would kick his ass if he knew he was eating that. Yet he does it anyway.”

“It’s so good,” Fenrys said, his mouth still full, his manners shot. “What coach doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Rowan snorted. “Tell yourself that when you feel like shit once the grease sets in.”

Lorcan stared at his sandwich for a long moment. Then, he mumbled, “Thank you.”

Aelin blinked. Even Rowan looked nearly surprised.

“Did you just thank me?” Aelin asked, perfectly still.

Lorcan didn’t say anything else as he bit into his sandwich.

A few more people trickled in and Aelin got back to work, the shock of Lorcan’s almost-kindness still shocking her. The dinner rush, even though slower with the college campus dwindled, still kept her and Elide busy, and by the time eight rolled around, Aelin was ready to close up.

Rowan, Lorcan, and Fenrys remained at the corner table.

Elide came out of the kitchen, having grabbed her purse and coat from Aelin’s office. “I’m gonna head home, if there’s nothing else you need me to do.”

Aelin shook her head. “Nope, you’re all set. Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Elide said, smiling, and Aelin noticed that her eyes slid to the table again, before she turned and was out the door, heading around the building to the small lot behind the café.

As she approached the table, Lorcan was standing and shrugging his jacket on. “Thanks for dinner. It was good.”

Aelin was still stunned by his niceties earlier that his words barely registered. “You’re welcome, I’m glad you liked it. I guess I’ll keep it on the menu.”

“You heading out, man?” Fenrys asked, finishing off the large plate of fries he’d ordered after his burger and first order of fries was gone.

“Yeah. Got some stuff I gotta take care of.” He said nothing else, but headed for the door.

Turning towards Rowan, Aelin tried to keep her expression in check as she realized that he, too, was heading for the back lot. Rowan, not fooled by her attempts, held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not getting involved.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t like it.”

“Like what?” Fenrys asked, and Aelin rolled her eyes as she took his plate and headed towards the kitchen.

“I’ve gotta lock up,” she called out over her shoulder. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

“Love you, too, sweet cheeks!” Fenrys called out.

Even through the swinging door, Aelin heard Rowan smack him on the back of the head.

****************

Rowan skated around the ice.

He was bored shitless, not even in his hockey gear, but sweatpants and a hoodie. His hands were shoved into his pant pockets as he circled the rink, close to the sideboards. The constant blow of the whistle was the only thing keeping him awake.

He didn’t even bother asking if he could practice, even though he felt up to it. He already knew what the answer would be.

And yet, he longed for practice to last. When it was over, he’d have to make his way into the locker room for Maeve.

And he was not prepared.

He’d felt her eyes on him since the moment he hit the ice, yet he hadn’t looked over at her once. Dorian was thankfully on the other end of the rink, so as he skated by at the beginning of practice, he was able to flag him down.

“Hey, man, how are you feeling?” Dorian asked, leaning on the half wall separating them.

“Much better, like it never happened,” he said, and the lie was barely there.

Dorian quirked an eyebrow and snorted. “Good try. You can’t practice today.”

“No, I get it, I understand that.” Roan cleared his throat. “But, uh, is there a different massage therapist I can see?”

Dorian blinked. “Did something happen with Maeve the other day? She didn’t mention anything-.”

“She’s my ex,” Rowan interrupted.

Dorian hesitated before nodding, slowly. “I see.”

“You can massage me,” Rowan said, quickly.

“As flattered as I am, I’m not a massage therapist,” Dorian chuckled. “I can talk to-.”

“No, don’t…tell anyone. If you don’t know of anyone, it’s fine,” Rowan said, the words rushing out of him.

“Look, I don’t know Maeve very well,” Dorian began, shaking his head. “But, she seems perfectly fine, alright? Has it been a while since you’ve been together?”

Rowan gave him a curt nod.

“Then give her a chance to be civil,” Dorian said, shrugging. “If she’s disrespectful, let me know. Otherwise, I have no reason to think she won’t do her job appropriately, and if she doesn’t, then you can leave.”

He sighed, nodding, and skated off.

He spent the next two hours dreading every minute that passed.

He heard Brello’s whistle blow and slowly glided across the ice, coming to a stop next to his line.

“Everyone was looking good today,” he said, looking at them one by one. “Take it easy tonight. The boys from Eyllwe aren’t going to go easy on us tomorrow night, especially since we’ll be in their territory. I want all of you in your best form.” He gestured to Rowan. “Whitethorn will be back on the ice next week.”

There were cheers and hollers from the team and Rowan couldn’t help but smirk as Lorcan shoved him.

Brello, to everyone’s surprise, smirked as well. “Hope you’ve enjoyed your time off, but relaxation time is over. You ready to go?”

“Aye, coach,” he replied, nodding.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

After a couple more announcements from the coaching staff, everyone was skating towards the locker rooms of the practice facility and Rowan felt like his nerves were going to snap.

He took his time removing his skates and grabbing his bag, before slowly walking down the hall leading to the training rooms. He was silently praying Dorian would be in his office, right off to the side of the therapy room, but he wasn’t.

There was only one room with a light on, and with a deep breath, he approached and knocked on the half-open door.

Maeve looked over her shoulder with a smile. “Come in, I’m ready for you.”

Rowan hesitated, but went in. Dorian was right. Maybe she had changed, maybe there was nothing to worry about.

Yet Rowan felt nauseous as he approached the blanket covered table.

“I’ll give you a minute to strip down and be back.” She left without another word, shutting the door behind her.

Rowan stared at the door before kicking off his shoes then lifting his shirt over his head. He only hesitated for a moment before kicking off his sweats and laying down on the table, pulling the blanket up to his waist.

A soft knock informed him of her approach, and he grunted to let her know he was ready.

When the door reopened, the lights suddenly dimmed and Rowan awkwardly shifted on the massage table.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Rowan was grinding his teeth as she worked on the muscle in his lower back that kept spasming when she said, “I have to say, I was surprised to see you the other day. Dorian hadn’t told me who I would be working on, but…” She paused and chuckled quietly, running her hands up his back.

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

When Rowan was drafted into the EHL, it had been a pretty big deal in his city, but more specifically, his university. He’d dropped out of school to accept the offer from the lower level team and climb his way to where he was. And everyone in Wendlyn knew.

There was no way Maeve didn’t know he was playing for Terrasen when she took the job.

He gave her a small nod and a quiet noise that said he was listening. She kept going, taking that as a sign he was interested in the conversation.

“I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” she sighed. “Things ended so...abruptly. I’m glad to see your doing good.” Another chuckle. “Save for the injury, of course.”

It was so strange to hear another accent from Wendlyn that was still somewhat fresh. Lorcan, Gav and Fenrys, they’d been in Terrasen so long, the accent almost disappeared sometimes. But the lilt of her tone, the way she phrased certain words… It both soothed and unsettled Rowan.

“Don't you care to know how I’ve been?” She asked, her voice low. When Rowan didn’t reply, she continued on, anyway. “I’ve been pretty good. Got myself a little place in the city. A dog. Little chihuahua named Fiona.”

Rowan blinked. He was tempted to say that he hadn’t asked, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ve got some pretty wealthy clients, too,” she continued, continuing to work out that knot. “For the first time in ages, I’m secure, you know? Not just financially, just…secure.”

“Good to hear,” he replied, the words sounding more like a snarl through the pain, and she dug her knuckles into his back. The sound he made was halfway between a moan and a groan, he bit his lip to cut it off, but he noted the change in the way Maeve’s hands touched him.

Her touches became less like determined movements meant to heal and were more akin to petting, brushes along his side and a slow finger down his spine.

“And you?” She asked, pulling the blanket a bit lower on his back. He’d worn underwear for just that reason, not trusting her to not make an inappropriate move. “Are you living in Orynth?”

He cleared his throat and said, “Yep. Got an apartment down the road from the university.”

His answer was short and sweet. He wasn’t trying to invite more conversation.

“Not far from me then,” she replied, humming quietly.

Rowan’s shoulders tensed, but that just made her want to ease it away. His eyes closed and he remained quiet.

“What about your personal life?” Maeve asked, at last.

Rowan didn’t answer, he just took a deep breath.

“Not trying to pry,” Maeve said, at last. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“I’m in pain,” he said, gently, the lie coming out easy. “Not really in a mood to make conversation.”

He could have sworn he felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees.

Her answer was curt. “Sorry.”

She stayed quiet for the rest of the massage, and when she finished, she told him to get redressed and left, heading back out into the main training facility.

He emerged a few moments later, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his silver hair. He was already heading for the door, giving her a nod of thanks, when she spoke up.

“Rowan, wait.”

He hated hearing his name on her lips. His steps slowed and he turned around to look at her.

She hesitated slightly, but said, “I was going to go get dinner in a little bit. It’s been a while, I didn’t know if maybe you-.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mae,” he sighed. The familiar nickname slipped out before he had time to stop it. It caught him off guard. “I- I gotta get home. I’ll see you later.”

Rowan had grabbed his bag and was out the door before she had time to say another word

****************

Aelin was at the stove, stirring a pot of homemade marinara sauce and humming quietly along with the radio when Rowan unlocked the door to her apartment and came in. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at him before turning back to the cooktop. “Hey, you. How was practice?”

“My new massage therapist is my ex.”

The words came out in a rush and Rowan wasn’t even sure he consciously knew he had planned on saying them.

Aelin’s back stiffened and she set the wooden spoon on the trivet beside the stove. Silently, she turned and asked, “Your ex-girlfriend is giving you massages?”

Rowan closed his eyes and took a deep breath before nodding. “Before you say anything-.”

“Did this just start today?” she asked. Her tone held no judgement, only curiosity. However, there was a slight edge to her tone.

“She gave me the massage in my apartment-.”

Aelin held up a hand, and Rowan’s words instantly fell into silence.

Silence, where the room remained for far too long. “Aelin-.”

“Who is she?” Aelin asked, one brow raised. “I’ll kick her ass.”

“Her name is Maeve,” he said, making his way into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter. “She was my girlfriend in college. We dated for a couple of years, but… It didn’t end well. It became more about who I was in hockey, how I was playing, than it was about our relationship.”

“Maeve,” Aelin repeated, turning back to the stove. “Maeve, Maeve, Maeve… Hmm.”

Rowan was quiet, not exactly sure what to say.

“And you have to see her? You don’t have a choice?” She finally asked.

He shook his head. “Brello told me to get over my personal issues. I’m sure I can book a personal masseuse, but-.”

“No, your coach is right,” she sighed, stirring the pot, before putting the lid on and walking over to where Rowan stood. She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “I don’t like it, but… that isn’t really my call to make.”

Rowan let out a relieved breath. “I know, it’s not mine either. Maybe you can give me massages here to help?” He smirked and, finally, Aelin’s beautiful smile returned.

“We’ll see,” she chuckled, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Looks like I’ll just have to come to your games and make my presence known.”

“Make your presence known?” He crooned.

“I like to mark my territory,” Aelin breathed, her eyes bright.

“And I’m your territory?” Rowan grinned.

“Whether you like it or not,” Aelin said, laughing softly. “Yes, you are.”

“Hmmm,” Rowan said, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t say that I don’t like that.”

He leaned down and kissed her one more time before asking, “So you aren’t mad?”

She stepped away, back to the stove, and said, “No, I’m not mad.” She paused and pulled a few spices from the cupboard. “Do I like it? Of course not, but there’s not much we can do about it.”

“Once I finish up this round of therapy, I won’t need it again,” he promised. “No more fights, no more getting slammed into the boards. I won’t have to see her anymore.”

Aelin laughed as she turned back to him. “You can’t make that promise, who’s to say what could happen?”

Rowan cringed. “That’s true. No more fighting though, I mean that.”

Aelin nodded, and he could tell she believed him.

He took a step closer and brushed her hair back. “You look beautiful.”

Aelin’s lips quirked as she said, “Trying to kiss my ass to get back on my good side?”

“Maybe,” he muttered, and kissed her forehead, softly. “Is it working?”

“Hmmm,” Aelin began, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Not yet, keep trying.”

Rowan’s grin widened as he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. “Now?”

Aelin sighed. “Getting there.”

“Only getting there, huh?” He breathed, his lips still brushing hers.

“I guess you’re going to have to step your game up,” Aelin cooed, slipping her hands down his back and into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Rowan’s grin was positively feline as he picked her up and carried her back into her bedroom.

Dinner was forgotten about for quite a while.

#lui #light up the ice #rowaelin hockey fic #snacmc #snelbz lui #snelbz tacmc collab #rowaelin #tog #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

71. you’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account

Sternclay, NSFW, please!

Here you go! Let's end this round of meet uglies with a bang

The post-holiday slump is always the worst; everyone maxed out their credit cards last month and doesn’t want to buy anything, and the tourists won’t be back until the spring. It’s not that he’s concerned about keeping the lights on; Bookworms is popular and has a prime spot downton. It’s that he’s bored out of his mind.

All his orders for the day are in, everything’s been received and shelved, and he’s running out of things to tidy. If he’s lucky, the clouds that have been threatening a snowstorm since this morning will burst and drive some people to shelter among the stacks.

Dingdong

Thank the lord.

“Welcome to Bookworms, can I help you?”

The man stays by the door, peering through the glass onto the street while pulling off his beanie, “Huh? Oh, uh, nope, just coming in to, uh, get out of the cold.” He turns, and two realizations slap Joseph in the face.

One: this is the hottest man he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Two: He’s seen this man dozens of times, just never in person.

Barclay Cobb is a Food Network darling who got his start on Youtube, sharing recipes from vintage cookbooks he found at garage sales. That’s not why he’s starstruck, but it is probably why the taller man is hiding in the craft books alcove and keeps nervously looking his way.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Mr. Cobb.”

“Phew” the man sighs, unzips his jacket, “thanks man. Thought I’d be bundled up enough that no one would spot me while I was out, but I didn’t get my hat on in time coming out of the Chinese place down the block.”

“I love that spot, they have the best beer-braised duck.”

“Yeah, I always stop by when I’m in town, they’re food is worth getting photographed for.”

It’s odd, everything he’s read suggests chef Cobb is friendly and warm when approached by fans in public.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate that people like my shows but, I, uh, sometimes I just want to eat or walk down the street without someone taking pictures of me.”

“Do you want to head into the back sections? There’s no windows in that half of the store.”

“Sweet, thanks. Uh, would it be cool if I autographed any books of mine you have? I like doing that, means I can send a little business towards smaller stores.”

“Of course. Here, the cookbooks are on this wall.” He slips into his office to grab a sharpie while Barclay pulls a stack of books and sits down on the floor. As the scratching of the pen fills the air, Joseph takes a trip to the paranormal and occult section, coming back with three copies of The Case for Bigfoot.”

“Y’know, not everyone stocks these.” Barclay smiles as he adds the paperbacks to the pile.

“Which is terrible business; you’re just as famous in the cryptozoology community as you are in the foodie one. This is the best book on bigfoot ever written, and I should know; I run a, um, a blog where I review books on paranormal topics.”

“You a true believer?” The cook blows on his signature in the copy of Desserts for All Seasons

“More an optimistic skeptic; your book is perfect because you make your case using actual evidence instead of reporting the same ten, poorly verified stories that everyone includes in their books. And I appreciated that you included recipes from the places you visited; that was a very nice touch.”

“Funny story about that” Barclay freezes as the front door opens. There’s definitely more than one person coming in, and when Joseph pokes his head around the corner he sees fifteen people, all with cameras or phones.

“Shit. You might want to hide in my office for a few minutes.”

By the time the crowd reaches him, Joseph is almost done re-shelving the signed books.

“Good afternoon, let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Uh, yeah, we do, someone saw Barclay Cobb in your store-”

“Strange, we’ve only had one customer” he winces as someone’s shoulder knocks a hardcover off its display, “I didn’t get a good look at them before they went downstairs.” He tips his head at the staircase to the YA and Graphic Novel sections and is promptly knocked into the shelf as the throng hurries away.

“Come on, I can get you out through the back door” Joseph whispers to the Red Dust on his Soul poster on his office door. Barclay is remarkably quiet for a man his size as they sneak across the floor and let frigid, January air rush into the store.

“Thanks man” Barclay whispers, “I owe you one.” He sets a big hand on Joseph’s shoulder, squeezes it with a wink, then pulls on his hat and disappears into a crowd coming off at the bus stop.

---------------------------------------------------

Joseph always comes in through the back, flipping on lights as he goes, so the sea of bodies pressed to the front windows like a zombie horde surprises him. He knows Barclay tweeted about the signed copies, but this seems like excessive excitement even for a celebrity chef.

“Morning, Joseph--whoa, what the heck?” Aubrey clocks in without taking her eyes off the crowd, “why is everyone here this early.”

“Fan culture. I think.” The registers finish waking up, “I’ll pay holiday rates if you open that door for me.”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, unlocks the double doors, and is swallowed up so quickly he worries she might have been trampled until she emerges near the greeting cards. Some people swarm the cookbooks, but an alarming number cluster around the counter, all shouting for his attention.

“How long have you been seeing Chef Cobb?”

“What?, I, I’m not-”

“Does he often visit your store?”

“No! He just came by yesterday!” There’s a horrible clatter of all the books on display near the door taking each other out like dominoes.

“Do you fuck in the backroom all the time?”

“Oh come on” He pushes past the man who asked that, deals with shouting all the way to his office and slams the door. A quick Google search for “Barclay Cobb” brings up a blurry photo of them in the alley, Barclays hand on his shoulder, and multiple headlines speculating on why the reclusive chef and author has chosen a nobody bookstore employee (he’s the owner, damn it) as his lover.

Okay, there’s a logical, easy fix to this.

He opens the door enough to speak, whistles so everyone will be quiet and listen to him, “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Mr. Cobb isn’t in any kind of relationship with me; he just came into the store yesterday for some peace and quiet. So, if you’re looking for information about him, this is not the place for it. If you’re looking for the signed books, the cookbooks are there, and the paranormal section is just around that corner.” He gives his best customer service smile as the paparazzi exchange perplexed glances.

“...Is it true he bought you this store?”

“Wh--no! We rent this space.”

“From him?”

“Arggh!” He closes the door, slumps against it and cards his fingers through his hair. As he contemplates closing for the day, he spots a little, copper card on his desk. It’s Barclay’s, which is what he expected, but when he flips it over there’s a message scribbled in pen.

Main St Hotel, room 503, here until Monday.

He pulls out his phone, tells Aubrey she’s allowed to get the crowd out by any means necessary except for fire, and elbows his way out into the winter air.

------------------------------------------

Barclay almost purrs when he peers through the peephole in the hotel door; Joseph, as his nametag read, is standing on the carpet, looking twice as handsome as he did yesterday. His cheeks are even a little pink, and Barclay has some thoughts on how to make that blush deepen.

“Hey, glad you found-”

Joseph holds up his phone, screen in Barclays face, “please fix this.”

“Oh fuck.” He ushers him in, “I’m so sorry, I thought they’d stopped doing this shit.”

“No, and they’re fucking up my inventory as a result.”

“On it, lemme text my assistant, she’s good at drafting these kind of messages.”

“Thank the lord. Right, thank you for that, I’ll go now.”

“Wait” Barclay reminds his instincts that blocking the door is rude, “do you wanna stay a few minutes? You look kinda stressed.”

“Because my store is being overrun!” Joseph snaps, then takes a deep breath and straightens his sleeves, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for, this morning has just been a mess. And it, um, it’s a little bittersweet to have people thinking I could land a hot chef when I can’t get past a first date with most people. Um, sorry. Too much information. That’s a bad habit of mine.”

Barclay tucks his hands into his pants pockets, “About that. Y’know how I left my card?”

Blue eyes blink, then brighten, “I thought that might be the reason but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.”

“Nope. A guy who's hot, nerdy, and competent enough to sneak me away from the paparazzi? Sign me the fuck up.”

“I’m not opposed to a, um, tryst, but I really, really need to get back to the store, I can’t abandon Aubrey to deal with this mess on her own, that’s not fair, and now we’ll have to reorder things too....” He laughs, a tense sound, “good lord, I get a chance to fuck a celebrity crush and I’m turning it down for work.”

“Hey” Barclay sets his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, “it’s okay. You’re not the first guy to be married to his job. But, uh, out of curiosity, you got any vacation days to spare?”

----------------------------------------------

“This is all yours?” Joseph takes in the sprawling farm as Barclay unlocks the front door of a charmingly rustic house.

“Yep, all the way to the creek and all the way to the road. Might surprise you, but I like my privacy.”

“I’d never have guessed.” He replies with faux shock.

“Smartass.” Barclay kisses his cheek, holds the door open with his shoulder so Joseph can pull his bags inside. He packed as light and efficiently as he could for two weeks away (he’d initially planned on one until Aubrey and Moira ganged up on him and told him he hadn’t taken a real vacation in years so he was taking one now, damn it) but his suitcase is still heavy as he rolls it to the stairs.

“I got that.” Barclay shoulders his own travel bag and hoists Joseph’s in the other hand, carrying them to the second floor like they’re nothing more than pillows.

The week the chef was in Madison, Joseph went to his hotel almost every night. Fell asleep in his bed more than once, when discussions of fusion cuisine or the Fresno Nightcrawler turned into frantic, heated kisses under the covers. It’s only when the cook drops all luggage into the master bedroom that the truth of why he’s on this trip sets in.

“You really invited me all the way here because you think I’m hot.”

“Yeah but no.” Barclay drapes his arms over his shoulders, lips still a little chilly as he kisses them, “brought you here because you’re smart” another kiss, this one on his jaw, “and funny” another, on his nose, “and you’re the biggest bigfoot fan I know.”

“You wrote a book on it!”

“Point stands. And yeah” he pushes Joseph back so he lands on the bed, crawling atop him as he growls, “I invited you here because you’re so hot I wanna pour sugar on you and see if it melts. Now get your pants off; I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick since we left the city.”

------------------------------------------

“How did the whole bigfoot thing start?” Joseph sips his Irish Coffee as Barclay puts his feet into his lap.

“Guess the same way any famous person ends up with two gigs; I was doing the thing I love, then was dicking around on cryptid hunter forums and found out I was also hella good at researching bigfoot. By the time I got really into it, I had enough cash that I could write my book without worrying about going broke. Helps that I’d handed off The Arch and The Lodge and was just the exec chef on them, since then I could travel if I needed to.”

Joseph nods, moves one hand down to rub Barclays foot; in spite of no longer working the kitchens of his five restaurants or having to test recipes for the books right now, he spent most of today on his feet making elaborate meals for two. Joseph teases him that he’s trying to stuff him to the point he can’t leave. Barclay always chuckles and says he doesn’t know how right he is. The last two days, Joseph then wraps his arms around his boyfriend and tells him he’d stay forever if he could.

He’s never thought of himself as romantic; he’s pragmatic, knows that relationships are things built out of time, trial, and error. But god help him, he’s fallen for Barclay like they’re rom-com leads with only ninety minutes to reach their happy ending.

They’re out near the creek--really more of a small river--the next morning, talking about books and speculating on the existence of life on other planets, when a storm sweeps through the trees. As trunks groan and roots pull loose from the snow, Barclay calls, “we better head back.”

He gives a thumbs up. Then the ice under him cracks.

He doesn’t correct course quickly enough, the rest dropping from under him and dunking him in freezing water. It’s deep, too deep to stand, but he’s a decent swimmer and kicks towards the surface. When the shadow covers the opening with a boom, panic threatens to push the rest of his precious breath away.

The tree that fell across the ice is heavy, and no matter how he pushes it won’t give. He bangs on the ice on either side, trying to get it to crack, but his lungs scream and his limbs alert him that the cold will soon shut them down.

He closes his eyes, trying to think, not ready to give up, not with Barclay so close. There’s a groan of wood and frozen water. His mouth opens without permission, desperate for air, and chokes him on frost instead.

-----------------------------------

“...be dead, please don’t be dead, please please please don’t be fucking dead.”

“Nnff.” That’s not what he meant to say, but it seems to calm the voice above him.

“Thank fuck. I’m so sorry, I got to you as fast as I could, do, do you need anything?” Barclay sounds exhausted.

“Cold.” He mutters.

“I’m trying to warm you up gradually, that’s what the first aid book said but, uh, here.” Warm, fuzzy arms draw him into a hug.

Wait.

The first thing he sees when his eyes flutter open are arms covered in reddish-brown fur. When Barclay rubs their cheeks together, it tickles more than his beard usually does.

“Barclay? What the hell is going on?”

“Uh. So.” He’s rolled with ease to face a creature he’s never seen and eyes that he’d know anywhere, “I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, a bigfoot. Maybe that’s kinda obvious now.”

His brain crackles to life, “What better way to stay undiscovered than get famous by giving people the wrong information about you.”

“Some of it’s true. Just not anything people could use to actually find me.”

“Smart, big guy” Joseph pets his face.

“You’re taking this pretty well.”

“I think my system is too shocked to experience more shock.” He shudders, “relatedly, how’d I get out of the river?”

“I lifted the tree off and pulled you free. Took my disguise off to do that and, uh, the fucking thing fell into the water when I got you. So I’m gonna be stuck like this until a friend of mine can get me a new one.”

“No complaints here. You look incredible.” He runs his hands up and down Barclay’s side and chest, warmth seeping into his fingers as he does, “But I’m a little surprised you were willing to risk someone seeing you or me blabbing to someone and trashing your whole life in the process.”

A low rumble as Barclay kisses his forehead, “It’s worth it. I, this is gonna sound so fucking cheesy, but I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and there was no way I was gonna lose you.”

“Oh.” Affection and surprise well up in his throat, pressing down his words so all he can do is nestle closer to the cryptid and let himself be loved.

His mind rebounds quickly from his misadventure. His body would like him to remember it for a while so he doesn’t put it in such jeopardy again any time soon. Instead of helping Barclay with cooking and chores, he lays under the covers while the storm rattles the roof and the cook clangs pots on the lower floor.

Barclay, attentive to a fault, is downright doting now that he’s stuck in bed. He’s never without a hot drink or something to read, and the cryptid is happy to answer the majority of his questions about the finer points of being bigfoot. When it’s bedtime, his boyfriend pulls him atop his massive frame and cuddles him, whispering over and over that he’s glad he’s okay, until they fall asleep.

Today followed much the same pattern, though when dinner time rolls around he gets a fantastic surprise.

“Chocolate fondue?” He peers hopefully at the bed tray in Barclays hands.

“Only the best for you, babe.” The cook sets the burnished wood down on the bedside table, “we lucked out, the berries I bought last week are ripe.”

Joseph reaches for the fork, but Barclay beats him to it.

“You should save your energy. Since you’re, uh, still recovering.”

He shrugs, sets his hands in his lap and opens his mouth for a chocolate dipped raspberry. It doesn’t take long to spy Barclay’s ulterior motive. The cook has a whole wardrobe designed to fit his cryptid form, but it’s having trouble concealing certain things.

“You’re getting off on this.”

“I, uh, I, maybe a little” Barclay blushes under his fur.

Joseph raises an eyebrow, tilts his head at the bulge in Barclay’s pants, “You call that ‘little’?”

A rumbly whine, the fork paused halfway to Joseph’s mouth, “I can’t help it. I’ve got a thing for taking care of partners, especially ones who are all competent and put-together the rest of the time, and you look so good when you eat and, ohfuck.”

Joseph inhales sharply as chocolate hits his exposed upper chest. It’s not hot enough to burn, and he moans as the sensation seeps across his skin. Barclays eyes, wide and ravenous, keep flicking between the splatter and his face.

“Looks like you made a mess, big guy.” Joseph begins undoing the remaining buttons on his pajamas, “you should clean it up.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay lunges, mouth first, lapping and sucking at the marked skin as Joseph laughs. Their shirts hit the floor together as he digs his nails into auburn fur. Barclay grunts at the pressure, sits up with a grin, and drips a line of chocolate down the right side of Joseph’s ribs.

“Oops. Better fix that too.”

“Cleanliness is importantAH, ahhnn.” He squirms a bit as Barclay nuzzles his stomach before dragging his tongue up his skin. There’ve been times he mourned the fact T didn’t make him as hairy as some other guys, but right now he’s grateful for the clear canvas Barclay can mark however he pleases.

“A mess can be more fun.” The cook licks his lips, sucks a hickey above his belly button, “and by the time I’m done with you, babe, won’t be a single part of you that isn’t one.”

“Then get to it.” He shoves his pants down, lets Barclay pull them the rest of the way off and fold them. He lays back, resting his arms behind his head, and moans as the cook drizzles chocolate on each hip. Joseph feels like a gourmet dessert and, from the growls between his thighs, Barclay intends to treat him like one.

His boyfriend is always enthusiastic when sucking him off, but tonight he throws finesse out the window in favor of burying his face at the crease of each thigh in turn, licking his hips clean while clawing at his calves and sides. He lifts his head, wipes his mouth with a satisfied grin that shows the points of his teeth, and dives down again.

Joseph yelps with pleasure, the hint of fangs hitting all his buttons, lighting him up like downtown on a dark night. It’s intense, the scratch of fur on skin just different enough from the usual beard to remind him of who’s down there, and his legs try to kick closed. Barclay growls again, holding them open with ease.

“Not until I’m done with you, babe.”

He surrenders to flood of feelings from both outside and within him, Barclay’s sheer delight at his body rendering all his doubts and worries toothless and small, quieting them until all he can think about is incredible creature holding and all he can say is some variation on-

“Barclay, please, right there, lordalmighty that’s good, that’s so good big guy, please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, craving the impending orgasm more than he has words for. Barclay sucks determinedly and huffs, pleased, as Joseph's thighs tense in his hold and his climax chases away the remnants of yesterday's aches.

As his brain insists that really, body, opening our eyes isn’t that hard, there’s a metallic zip and strong legs bracketing his thighs.

“Here I thought you couldn’t look any better.” He murmurs as Barclay gleefully strokes his cock, “as soon as my brain works again, I’m coming up with so many ways to use that gorgeous thing.”

“Can’t, fuck, can't wait to hear ‘em, but I only got one for tonight; I’m gonna use it to cum alllll over that fucking perfect body, fuck, Joseph, you look so good when you’re ruined, fuck.” An impressive amount of cum spatters up his stomach, chest, and neck as Barclay howlgrowlpurrs and then sets his hands carefully on the bed.

Joseph’s whole body is sticky with chocolate, sweat, and cum, and Barclay definitely has at least two of those things mussed into his fur.

“You’re right, big guy, a mess can be fucking amazing.”

That being said, being sticky gets old quick, and soon they’re in the tub, Joseph whistling as he shampoos Barclay’s chest. The cryptid hasn’t stopped purring, and every time he looks Joseph’s way the sound deepens.

“When are you next in the city?”

The cook yawns, “Was gonna check on how the new chef de cuisine is getting on at Kepler in about two week.”

“Would you like to stay with me? It’s not fancy, but it’s close to the Ismuth, so you can get to Kepler on foot without trouble, and there are fewer crowds there this time of year. I suspect paparazzi are also less likely to track you down at some random house than at a hotel. That might make up for my lack of, um, high class amenities.”

“Good point. But I gotta be honest babe; as long as you’re there, that’s all I need to be happy.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #taz amnesty #terato #monster boyfriend #trans agent stern

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rareficsnstuff · 3 years

Text

Not-so-hot Chocolate [Bokuto, Akaashi]

This was a ride. My high school laptop is finally kaput so I had to resort to mobile to post this (*whispers* I'veneverpostedonmobilehowthehelldoesthisshitworksomeoneplzhelp). Anyways! Merry super belated Christmas and happy new year, @danibby, I hope this is what you wanted!! And thanks @ticklygiggles for hosting and allowing my disaster self to be a part of this for the first time ever! Despite all the road blocks, it was really fun!

Summary: Bokuto and Akaashi are out trying to buy some gifts for their teammates, but in true Bokuto fashion, he forgot something of minor importance and now he has to deal with the consequences… or Akaashi does???

Words: 2039

“Akaashiiiii ~!” Bokuto whined for the umpteenth time since they had met up that night.

“Not my fault, Bokuto. You knew we’d be outside; you should have thought ahead,” said Akaashi flatly, who was trying hard to contain his building irritation with his Captain.

“But I didn’t think it would be this cold ~”

Akaashi stopped dead in his tracks, turning slowly to face Bokuto. “Bokuto,… it’s snowing…” His tone was threaded with bored incredulity and his eyes had widened a bit in borderline disgust.

“W-well yeah, but-… I-I just… Akaaaaashiiii ~! My hands are so coooold!”

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem…” Bokuto groaned miserably at this less-than-friendly reply, head rolling back and shoulders sagging to allow his arms to dangle; like a child. “C’mon, we’ve still got half the team to buy gifts for. We can get some hot chocolate or something after the next couple of stores in this section,” Akaashi bargained.

“Lemme borrow your gloves!”

“No.”

“We can trade off!”

“No.”

“Akaaaashiiii ~!” Dammit.

“Fine! We can get hot chocolate now, just calm down!” Bokuto’s face had twisted into a juvenile pout but at the promise of a hot beverage to warm his hands, his eyebrows lifted hopefully and his golden eyes were practically sparkling. There was a definite bounce to his step now as the two headed towards the welcoming glow of cozy little café on the shopping strip.

Some time later, they were back on their way, looking through shop windows and discussing options of what to get their teammates as they nursed their steaming cocoa.

“Akaashi, let’s take a break and go over there to finish our hot chocolate!” Bokuto exclaimed, pointing excitedly to an empty park across the street with his cocoa-free hand. Akaashi nodded agreement and the two head over, perching themselves in a half-sitting-half-standing position against the back of one of the benches. “Watch this, Akaashi!” said Bokuto suddenly. Akaashi looked up at him, lazily expectant, as Bokuto drew an arm back and launched his now empty cup at a garbage bin four feet away. The cup bounced off the outer rim, sending it directly into the basket with a soft clatter. “WOOOH!” Bokuto cheered.

“Nice shot.”

“I know, right!” Although, Bokuto had ordered the largest size of hot chocolate, he had finished long before Akaashi who had gone with two sizes smaller. The younger still had the last half to drink but Bokuto didn’t seem to mind waiting for his setter. Until…

“Akaashiii ~” Oh god…

Knowing what was coming, Akaashi only hummed in response.

“My hands are cold again ~”

“Move around. It’ll help keep your body temp up.” And Bokuto began humorously trotting around his setter, rolling his shoulders and desperately rubbing his hands to keep warm. “With you size and build, I would have expected you to be the type to always be hot…” Akaashi drawled, ignoring Bokuto’s prancing and staring straight ahead. Secretly, he was trying not to smile. Why was Bokuto always such a goof?

“Common misconception… “ Bokuto had paused and mumbled to himself, “Was that the right term?” One corner of Akaashi’s mouth twitched. “I get real hot in the summer n’ stuff, but it’s the reverse in winter. It’s like my body just absorbs whatever temperature it is outside at the time… It sucks.” Bokuto pouted, still keeping up with his prancing as he moved to circle Akaashi for some diversity in his pattern.

Wow. Akaashi sure was taking his sweet time with that hot chocolate. Hadn’t he finished yet? Bokuto eyed him somewhat impatiently from the corner of his eye as he jogged circle after circle around him. When he was directly behind him after his twelfth circle, he stopped, jogging in place as his eyes practically burned holes into Akaashi’s back.

“GMMHmm!” Akaashi choked. He had been in the middle of another sip of his rapidly cooling chocolate when he felt Bokuto cram his wide hands in the slots between his arms and ribs. With a struggle, he had managed not to spew it onto the snow at his feet and swallowed it a bit painfully down his throat, stone-faced composure quickly back in place. Slowly, he turned his head to meet his captain’s wide, golden eyes. Bokuto’s expression was innocently expectant; he looked at Akaashi with raised eyebrows, glittering eyes and a pleasant – albeit dopey – smile. “What are you doing…” Akaashi said, barely even as a question; almost daring him to answer.

“I thought it might help, but your coat’s so thick your body heat doesn’t seep through like I’d hoped.” Bokuto’s brows furrowed in thought and Akaashi rolled his eyes before he took another sip of cocoa. He decided it had been too long a day to care and simply allowed his Senpai to stand there with his hands on his ribcage as he nonchalantly polished off his not-so-hot-chocolate. “OOooo- wait a minute, I’ve got a better idea!” Bokuto exclaimed making Akaashi jump, half turning his head to the elder.

“W-whoa, whoa- hey! No!” he spluttered, quickly stepping out of Bokuto’s reach and spinning around to face him, slightly crouched in a defensive stance and brandishing his nearly empty cup like some kind of hilariously pathetic makeshift shield.

“But, Akaaaashiii ~ my hands are so coooold ~!” Aaaand the whining was back.

“Stick your hands up your own shirt, then?”

“Akaashi. My hands are cold,” said Bokuto concisely, looking at Akaashi with a maddeningly incredulous expression. “If I put them under my shirt, I might as well take off my coat and lay in the snow…”

“Bokuto- “

“Oh c’mon, Akaashi, just for a second! You can warm back up really quick!”

“No, Bokuto.” Despite Akaashi’s insistence, Bokuto was advancing on him. “Bokuto, No! This is your own fault for not bringing gloves! Leave me alone!” And they were off. Using the bench as a protective barrier between them, they moved in sync from one end to the other, Akaashi tying to escape and Bokuto tying to head him off. In a flash, all in one movement, Bokuto had snatched the cup from Akaashi’s hand, set it on the bench and grabbed his Kohai’s now empty hand to pull him into his chest. There was a short-lived squabble in which Akaashi was trying to keep Bokuto’s hands out of his coat and nearly caught the larger man’s wrists but he slipped out at the last second.

“AAAAaaa!!” Oh wow, Bokuto was right… His hands were cold.

“See? Cold, right?” Bokuto’s grip on Akaashi’s sides tightened when the setter gripped his arms for dear life and began tugging and squirming to get away. “This is a lot warmer, though.” And when – god knows why – Bokuto trailed his hands up to his ribs and began rubbing them lightly up and down (for the warmth of the friction, he supposed), he panicked.

“Bokuto! Bokuto- no- please! L-let me go! Pleahese!” Shit.

Bokuto’s hands stopped and Akaashi froze.

“Are you laughing?”

“No.” Damn! That reply was way too quick.

“No, no you were- … Oh wait, I get it! Akaashi, you’re ticklish!” There was no room for refute in that statement; Bokuto had made that conclusion and the only way to change his mind was to physically prove him wrong. No chance of that happening, though. If he didn’t escape now, right now, Bokuto was going to tickle him and he was going to react like any ticklish person would. There was no helping that; he was ticklish after all. Very ticklish.

“Let me go!” he said rather than denying it. He struggled harder than ever when Bokuto rapped his arms around his waist and he was really starting to feel the threat now.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Oh god, Akaashi could hear the excited grin in his voice and there was no way he was getting out of his gorilla arms. Still with his hands under his coat, Bokuto began softly kneading into his ribs. A choked giggle slipped through before he could stop it and his only defense now was to press his elbows into his sides, hoping to squish Bokuto’s wiggling fingers.

“No, please dohon’t!” Dammit, don’t laugh; this was so embarrassing.

“Oh c’mon, Akaashi, just laugh, will ya? How come I didn’t know about this, huh?” Akaashi was about to loose it. If this kept up much longer- oh…

“Haaaaha! W-wait- aaAAAhahahaaaa!” Bokuto had only been scribbling at the sides of his ribs as he held him like a human straight jacket, but now he had started rubbing deep circles into his ribs, adding the last straw to break the camel’s back and there was absolutely no chance at stopping the laughter now.

“Yeah, there ya go! And- and my hands are finally warming up! Wow you’re really ticklish, Akaashi! What about here?” Akaashi couldn’t tell if Bokuto was teasing him or just making conversation, but it was pretty hard to read the guy right now anyways; he was a bit preoccupied with something else.

“AH- NAHo! B-bokutohohohahahaa! Bohokuto- pleahese- NAHA!” No amount of squishing his elbows into his sides was going to stop the upward journey of Bokuto’s fingers. And now they were under his arms, wriggling tirelessly and driving Akaashi mad. He lunged forward like his life depended on it, twisting any way he could. Oh good, now he was crying, too… Holy hell it tickled so bad, thank god there was no one around!

“You’re so wiggly, Akaashi!” Bokuto was laughing too now. He had never seen Akaashi like this; lively and desperate. Sure he could get into it during a volleyball game, and if it wasn’t going well, he would get pretty high strung and snap occasionally, but this was different. Red-cheeked and teary-eyed while he laughed his heart out; laughing harder than Bokuto had ever heard him laugh before. He couldn’t help but laugh with him.

When he moved one hand down goose at his hip, Akaashi wheezed and lurched forward, slipping out of Bokuto’s grip a little and making the ace loose his balance.

“AhahaHAHAA! NAho NAHAT Thahahat! Bokuto, PLEAHEEEEhese!” Bokuto barked a laugh at Akaashi’s whiney plea. He added his other hand to his other hip and Akaashi squealed – a sound Bokuto never thought he would hear from his Kohai – before he wheezed himself into silent laughter, finally toppling out of Bokuto’s grip and falling onto the powdery snow on his hands and knees with Bokuto following. He was rolling in the snow, pawing weakly at Bokuto’s hands and completely unable to speak now when the torture suddenly stopped.

Akaashi opened bleary eyes to see Bokuto sitting crisscross in the snow, hands in his lap and grinning goofily down at him. Akaashi chuckled again, rolling onto his back and looking up into the sky with a goofy smile of his own.

“You suck.” Akaashi said, tipping Bokuto into a roaring laugh. “Are your hands still cold?” he asked, a teasing edge to his voice as he looked at Bokuto from the corner of his eye. There was a pause…

“Maybe…” he finally said with a grin Akaashi did not like.

“Wait- No!” Faster than he believed he could, Akaashi had jumped to his feet and took several steps back from his Captain who was now also climbing to his feet, still with that expression that Akaashi decided he definitely hated. “We- we still have shopping to do! This can- this can wait until later, Bokuto!” he shouted desperately when Bokuto started advancing on him. Bokuto laughed again.

“Later, huh? You’re right, we should finish getting the team gifts… but I’m gonna hold you to that ‘later’ thing.” He reached back to grab Akaashi’s not-so-hot chocolate and handed it to him with a clap on the back and a rather threatening wink before he lead the way back across the street to the shopping strip.

Feeling stunned, Akaashi stood there slack-jawed holding the nearly empty cup in his hand as he watched Bokuto’s retreating figure. He tipped the last of his cocoa down his throat, tossed it into the garbage bin and forced a steadying breath which he released in a terrified huff.

Shit. Maybe if he dragged the shopping out long enough, Bokuto would forget about this…

Shit.

#Squealingsanta2k20 #Squealing Santa 2k20 #SS2K20 #haikyuu!!#tickle fic #bokuto kotarou #akaashi keiji

169 notes · View notes

pascalscenarios · 3 years

Text

HOW TO LOVE (Marcus Pike x Reader

HOW TO LOVE

Marcus Pike x Reader

Summary: To say thank you for helping you out last night, you take Marcus out for Lunch

Warning: None

Words: 2016

Author's Note: Hello! It’s been a hot minute! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I’ve kinda been all over the place for the last two weeks. I finally had time to actually write! I’ll try my best to go back to posting on Saturdays/Sunday like I was.

My Whiskey fic Common Ground, will be coming up soon pretty soon. Sorry for the wait!

Hope you all are doing well! Enjoy! ( this chapters sorta boring sorry :( )

- K

CH 1| CH 2 | CH 3

Chapter 3

You sat at the information desk as you watched Marcus from across the lobby. The Art crime team came in early this morning. You were observing him, taking notice of how he interacts with others. He was talking to another agent. His hands were on his hips laughing about something. You wanted to say thank you again for last night, but you didn’t feel like bothering him.

You must have been staring for a while because the other agent took notice. They said something making Marcus look over his shoulder, locking eyes with you.

You were caught, but you tried to play it off as best you could. You quickly make yourself look busy, picking up a pen and writing random things down on a blank piece of paper.

Your eyes slowly glaze up seeing Marcus say something to the agent and walk towards your way. You continued writing on the paper making a fake to-do list, writing whatever popped into your mind.

“Hey” he smiled standing in front of the desk.

“Hi”

“How’s your day been for far?”

“Uh...busy!” you say, not daring to look up at him, embarrassed that he saw you staring at him. You didn’t know why you were still trying to pretend, you were caught.

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I saw you staring at me.” he joked at you, smiling.

You felt your cheeks burn. There was no doubt you were turning red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare...”

He chuckled. “It’s alright”

“It’s just...I.. uh...I wanted to say thank you again… you know for last night” you finally look at him, fiddling with your pen.

“Yeah, it was no problem. Did you make it home okay?”

“ I did, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“How about you? You made it home alright?”

“Yeah, just fine...If something like that happens again, just let me know...actually-” He leans in close, grabbing the yellow sticky note from off your desk, and takes the pen that you were holding from your hands.

“Here” He quickly scribbles something down, peeling it off and handing it with the pen back to you.

You take it as he places the sticky note pad back on your desk.

You look down at what he wrote.

Marcus: 202-555-4275

He gave you his number.

“My cell phone number in case you need anything...Is that okay?” He was hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

“Yeah, thank you” you smiled.

“Alright, well I just wanted to tell you hello real quick. I’ll see you around.” With that, he smiles and makes his way towards the elevators.

Without thinking you called out his name “Marcus!”

He turns around looking at you. “Yeah?”

“Do you wanna maybe get lunch later today? My treat. It’s the least I could do since you helped me out last night.” you offered. You felt bad for the way you treated him and then he was willing to help you. You wanted to return the kind gesture.

He smiled brightly at you.

“Sure, I’ll swing by your desk at 12?”

“Yeah” “Okay, I’ll see you then!” With that, he heads on his way.

“Lunch date with Marcus Pike?” Laurie chimes in, sitting in her seat next to yours and we both watch him wait for the elevators.

You spin your chair back facing towards, Laurie following. You take the sticky note, folding it up, and stuffing it in your pants pocket. “It’s not a lunch date...more of a thank-you lunch. I got caught up in the rain last night and my car got towed while I was printing the packets out.”

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I should have gotten those packets printed out earlier-”

“No! It’s not your fault. Everything worked out fine actually. Marcus was still around. He gave me a ride and helped me get my car back from the impound...It was really sweet honestly.”

“See he’s not so bad after all. Give him a chance dear, get to know him.”

Although you were still a little wary of him, part of you was curious to learn more about Marcus.

…

It was noon. Marcus should be coming around soon. You were working on brainstorming ideas

“You ready?” Marcus

“Sorry, just give a few minutes.”

“No worries take your time.” He says he patiently waits for you.

You head over to the office grabbing your wallet and phone from your bag. You walked back out into the desk area placing the lunch break sign out, then walking over to the short desk door, letting yourself out.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I know this good cafe that’s not far from here, it's down a block. Not too far, we can walk.”

“Okay.”

You two head over to the exit, Marcus opening the door for you. “Thanks”

He gives you a smile as you exit, following behind you. You both made your way down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Today was a nice day. It was sunny, a blue sky with patches of clouds, and a soft wind blew.

“So” Marcus begins to say.

“How are you liking D.C. so far?” he stuffs his hands in his pocket as he walks beside you.

“It’s great. I’m from Virginia actually. My family used to drive up to D.C. all the time when I was a kid.” You smile thinking about the fond memories you have.

“Ah, so you’re used to all the hustle and bustle around here…” He chuckles.

“Sorta, It's different living here than visiting. I’m from a small town so the rush 27/7 is something I need to get used to.”

“I know what you mean, I’m originally from Texas. I worked at the FBI headquarters in Austin. I’m used to the rush but D.C. is a whole different type of face pace”

“Texas? You’re pretty far from home. How come you’re out here on the east coast?” you asked.

“In Austin, I was working on local art crime cases. I got offered a promotion to run a task force here in D.C. dealing with international art crime.”

“Wow, that's great.”

“Thanks”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Couple years now.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, I do, some aspects of it, like my friends and family. I try to visit when I can, if not then phone calls and facetime are the next best thing.” He stayed silent for a few moments. “Do you miss home?” “Not really, other than my parents. I’m glad I got out of my hometown honestly. It’s like a breath of breath air.” you sighed in relief.

“Yeah, I’m kinda glad I got out of Austin. I had a fiance back home. We were supposed to start a life out here, but she ended up leaving me for another man.”

Maybe this was what Elliot meant when he said you might have something in common with Marcus… ex issues. You felt terrible that Marcus' fiance left him for another man. It reminded you of the countless times your ex cheated on you. You knew the feeling. The feeling of hurt and betrayal.

“Marcus, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright. It was a while ago. I’ve moved past it.” He shrugged.

“I know, but still that must have hurt.” You say sadly.

“It did, but what happened, happened. Life moves forwards. The person you’re meant to be with will come along eventually.”

Marcus was so optimistic and helpful when it came to love, unlike you. You on the other hand were fearful and scared of it.

“Here we are.”

He says stopping in front of an old brick building. You look up reading the sign outside.

Martells’

“It’s a family-owned cafe and has been here for years. They got the best sandwiches in D.C.”

…

You were slowly warming up to Marcus, starting to grow comfortable in his presence. You two sat at a table for the past hour eating lunch and talking about random things. He asked you questions about yourself. He was genuinely interested and cared about getting to know you, your hobbies, and your passions. It was strange for you, but it felt nice to be heard and even seen in a sense. Your ex never cared or seemed interested when it came to things you were interested in or liked.

Marcus told a story about his first case as an agent. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own story, poking fun of himself. A huge smile was smeared on his face, his eyes squinting as he laughed. You liked his laugh. It was that contagious.

“Oh no!” You gasped, laughing.

“They never let me hear the end of it. To this day, they still talk about it down in Austin. My old coworkers still give me shit for it when I talk to them.” He shakes his head.

“How did you even bounce back from that?”

“You didn’t…You wait until someone makes a bigger mistake, but mine was top tier. I don’t think anyone could outdo what I did, but I managed to figure out cases which took most of the attention away” He picks up his soda, taking a sip.

His phone began to ring. He pulls it out of his pocket looking at the caller ID.

“Sorry I gotta take this”

“No, of course”

“Hello?” he answers the call. “Yeah...Mhm...Shit. Okay, I’ll be there in a few.” He hands up, stuffing the phone back in his pocket.

“I’m sorry, something came up, I have to go to the FBI building.”

“I understand. I should be going back anyway.” You looked down at your watch. You lost track of time. You went over your lunch break.

The two of you stand up, throwing your trash away and exiting the cafe.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you,” You tell Marcus.

“I’m not going anywhere yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “But you have to go??? Aren't you gonna take a cab or is someone gonna pick you up”

“Yeah I gotta go, but I’m walking you back”

“Marcus, you seriously don’t need to” You were fine walking back on your own.

“No, I’m walking with you back” He insisted.

“But-” you tried to protest.

He cuts you off “-No buts, come on”

You gave up trying to argue about it and you let him walk back with him. When you reach the museum steps you both stop.

“Thank you for lunch.”

“You’re welcome. Martells was great. You weren’t kidding when you said the sandwiches were good.”

“I told you...I had a great time. Maybe we could do lunch again some other time?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great...I’ll see you later. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, Marcus”

You lightly wave. You make your way up the steps to the top. You look over your shoulder, seeing that Marcus was still standing. Once he sees that he reaches the top, he walks away down the sidewalk back in the direction you guys came from.

You open the entrance door walking through the lobby to the information desk. You see Elliot at the desk talking to Laurie.

“Well look you came back from her overextended lunch..” Elliot teases.

“I’m so sorry, I lost track of time-” You say as you make your way to your chair.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, especially if you were on a date with Marcus Pike!”

“How’d it go?’ Laurie asked.

“First off, It wasn't a date, it was a thank-you lunch” you addressed Elliot, “second, it was fine,” you tell Laurie.

“Fine? Just fine?” Elliot gives you a look.

“Yeah…”

“That’s it?” Elliot was expecting more.

“What do you want me to say, Elliot?”

“More than just that it was fine!”

“Elliot, Marcus, and I hardly know each other. All we did was talk. That was it.” You rolled your eyes.

“What do you think about him?” Laurie asked.

“He’s...different.”

“Different bad or Different good?” Elliot raised an eyebrow at you curious as to what your response will be.

“Good...Different good.” a smile slowly crept on your face.

TAG // @alberta-sunrise @spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso @greeneyedblondie44

#the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #Marcus #Pedro Pascal #pedro

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yutahoes · 3 years

Text

Otou-Chan

Yuta Nakamoto x Reader (Y/N) Smut

(Chapter Twenty One)

Summary: 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Warning: Fluff, Sexual Fantasy, Teasing, Violence

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

21. Kintsukuroi

But that Friday became uneventful for Yuta since she woke up first and was already out of his house when he woke up. Really? Why is she always an early riser? Breakfast was left on the table and he did the only thing he can think of.

Taeyong was laughing when Yuta opened the door to his unit. "A bento box? Really, Yuta?" He teased, entering his house as if his own and proceed to the kitchen. "Doyoung is right. She got you in her fingers."

The other raised an eyebrow at him. "She's my girlfriend. I'm supposed to take care of her."

The man who was already fixing the ingredients shook his head. "She can take care of herself, Yuta." He reasoned out that made the other look at him, asking to elaborate. "You're pulling her to your world. Don't you think you're grooming her too much to fall in love with you?"

"I'm not!" He revolted. "She likes me."

The other shrugged. "Why is she living here anyway? Where are her parents?" Yuta sighed. Should he tell Taeyong? And why does he feel uncomfortable with the thought of bringing back (Y/N) to her dad? Where exactly is her dad? Her mom?

It was half an hour before lunchtime when Yuta parked outside of the publishing house. Jaehyun, who was informed by Taeyong, welcomed him by opening the door surprised that he was bringing in two bags full of things. "I'm glad you came here." He claimed that made the older confused. Why? Did something happen? "Can you calm your girlfriend down?"

She was focused on her computer, biting her thumb. It was a habit he noticed whenever she's fidgety. She might be nervous. "What happened?"

"Her work will be published today." That's a good thing. She said that it was approved. What is she so nervous about? "I'll bring the other foods inside."

Yuta followed the younger's order. When he approached (Y/N)'s table, that's when he noticed that she's alone in their office. Where are her other co-workers? Inside? Why is she left alone?

Maybe she really is that nervous that she was just scribbling on her drawing tablet, not noticing that he sat beside her. She was drawing him that made him chuckle. "You are so obsessed with me." He teased placing the bento box in front of her.

"What are you doing here? Did Jaehyun call you? Don't you have work today?"

She really is nervous. "It's my day off, I forgot to tell you last night." He took tempura from the bento box, feeding her using the chopstick. "Jaehyun didn't call me. I delivered lunch for you and your workmates." She was obviously surprised but cannot talk since she's munching on the batter covered shrimp which is really good, she might add. "Where are they?"

She gulped before answering him, "Inside. Discussing my work." She glanced at the closed door and blinds. "Yuta, what if my work isn't fit for publishing? What if they realized that it wasn't good enough? What if…?"

He held the back of her head, patting her to calm her down. "You said Johnny already accepted your work, right?" She nodded. "Then it will be fine. Maybe they're just teasing you." But she shook her head. It's work, they wouldn't do that. "I believe in you, (Y/N). You should believe in yourself as well."

The girl had to breathe hard at that. Yuta is right, she can just try again next time. "Can you stay for a little bit? Until they're done with the meeting? Please."

Yuta smiled. "I have nowhere I want to go but here." He tapped on the bento box. "Now, eat. Or do you want me to feed you?" She shook her head, taking the chopsticks to feed herself. The guy would ask her to feed him as well in between bites that made her giggle. Yuta had a really peculiar way of bringing up her mood.

She wasn't even finished with her rice when the door opened. Jungwoo was skipping outside, congratulating her and thanking Yuta for the food. Ten followed, smiling widely at her. "(Y/N)," Johnny called, peeking from inside the office. "It's already posted. You can check on it." He congratulated her but his words didn't register in her mind.

Yuta quickly fished out his phone, typing the publishing's website on his search engine to check on it. Before it can load, he felt her head on his shoulder. "Why am I so nervous?" She mumbled that made him chuckle.

He rubbed her back, kissing the top of her head. "You're doing great, my love." He whispered that Jungwoo overheard, making the other smile. The website loaded and Yuta clicked on the first panel, chuckling to himself. "You are really obsessed of me."

(Y/N) had to prevent herself from crying. That is her work, published on the company's site. A risque romance about a CEO and a secretary. A story with her name written on the bottom of the first page. Her first real story. She's a manhwa illustrator now. A dream she thought she cannot make. It's all happening in front of her now. Is this even real? She's not dreaming, right?

"You already have a hundred readers," Jungwoo noted and Yuta nodded. She felt overwhelmed all of a sudden. Although it's a small number compared to Ten and Jungwoo's works, that is huge for her who was just starting. "This is promising, (Y/N). You have to work harder now." And she nodded, her eyes getting mistier as time passed.

"You have to treat your model with something expensive." Ten teased.

Yuta watched as she turned to look at him, smiling with tear-stained eyes. She looked really happy. Really beautiful. An image he wanted to etch in his mind. He wanted to see her like this every day, wanted her to be happy all her life. He wanted to protect that smile to see it for the rest of his life. "Are you happy?" (Y/N) nodded, whispering 'very'. "Then that's all that matters."

Jungwoo looked at Ten and he mirrored the same expression as his. (Y/N) is with the right person now.

Jaehyun kept on forcing Yuta to come with them and have drinks but he kept on saying that they should just go and celebrate. "You just want to celebrate alone with her." The younger teased that made Yuta smile. When he asked if he should just pick up (Y/N), Jungwoo asked his permission if she could stay with him since he's missing Lucas. Yuta had to smile at himself when he realized that (Y/N) had to make up a story that Lucas is here in Korea just to stay with him. Well, he's not mad. It's the opposite actually. And he doesn't dislike the idea of her living with him.

While driving back to his apartment, he pondered for a way to make her live with him. Should he change the apartment's interior? Or maybe he'll buy a house for them to live in together? It must be nice to live with her. Sleeping and waking up next to her, eating breakfast that she cooked, even going home with her welcoming him with a warm hug.

Maybe he really should buy a house. It will be hard for kids to go up and down the elevator. A child-friendly home with a large yard where he can play soccer with his son or even do gardening with his daughter. A spacious living room where the little ones can run as long as they like. He smiled at how warm it was then shook his head. You shouldn't count the chicks until the eggs are hatched. She should ask her to live with him first.

And that came sooner as he expected.

Yuta was surprised when the doorbell rang while he's doing paperwork for the presentation tomorrow. Her appearance by the doorway surprised him even further. Shouldn't she be at Jungwoo's place now? Why is she here? But who is he to revolt anyway?

(Y/N) is really red and he wanted to ask how she came here. Did Jaehyun drive her? Did she take the cab? She should have just called him. But she went straight to the bathroom, leaving her bag and jacket scattered in the living room. She's really drunk.

A glass of water can be seen from the doorway of the bathroom when (Y/N) flushed the vomit from the bowl. She drank the contents of the glass, watching as to how Yuta sat beside her on the toilet floor. "How much did you drink?" He asked but she shook her head just as another wave of vomit escaped her stomach.

The guy held her hair in a ponytail in one hand, the other rubbing her back and letting her get out all the food she had eaten earlier. God, she wouldn't drink that much anymore. Yuta took the glass and ordered her to gargle some water and he'll just take another glass for her to drink, asking if she wanted some medicine or anything. "I'm fine. You'll smell like vomit, leave already."

He chuckled at that, kissing her forehead that made her push him. He'll reek of vomit if he kept staying inside the bathroom with her. "We'll probably do this soon. Think of it as practice." He stood up with a smug expression, smiling to himself in her confusion.

The girl brushed her teeth twice to remove the smell from her then removed her blouse when Yuta came inside the bathroom. "Oh. Sorry. I'll get you some clothes." he said, disappearing after giving her the glass of water and some aspirins.

He's still rummaging the closet when she entered the bedroom, lying on his bed without her blouse. "I'm not getting drunk like that again." He chuckled before throwing a shirt and sweatpants at her. "Otou-chan…" she called cutely. "Can you change me?"

Yuta giggled at that. "You are such a baby."

"I'm your baby," she mumbled as he sat next to her, asking her to sit up. "Do you want to do it?" she asked playfully as he expertly removed the hooks of her bra, removing it from her. "It's been so long, Yuta."

He put on his shirt on her, kissing her forehead when the fabric passed her head. "I know. But you're drunk. You might regret it later." She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight that surprised Yuta. "Why?"

Her heart is full of warmth. All because of him. This is it, the warmth she's been yearning for since she was young. The happiness she wanted to feel. The feeling of home. She's now at ease. She's now at home.

Yuta is her home.

"I like you so much," she whispered as tears fell from her eyes. "I don't have anything, I'm broken and I'm an annoying big giant whiny baby…" He smiled at that, how cute. "But please Yuta, stay with me."

The guy had to smile. She's really something when she's drunk. He had been imagining it before, a way to ask her to live with him but here she is, saying those things to him. She's not actually a giant baby, come to think of it. How can she have the courage to say those things when he's so nervous? "I will, love." He wanted to be brave. To have courage like her in expressing himself. In expressing what he wants. "Let's get married, (Y/N)."

But she didn't look surprised. She didn't look happy or sad as well. For the first time, she looked so hard to read. Is it because of the alcohol? Or is it because he's too nervous about her decision? "It's too early for breakfast, Yuta." Then a smile appeared on her lips. "Let's wait for the right time to talk about this."

Of course. But her answer is comforting enough. She didn't say no.

Doyoung was surprised when Yuta went inside the office with (Y/N) beside him. He doesn't have anything against them with this dating thing but does he really have to bring her to work to show how cool he is? Yuta really changed. How can this determined man look so fragile now that he's in a relationship with someone? "The board room is ready for the presentation," he announced that made the CEO nod. "Do you need anything else?"

Yuta glanced at the girl beside him then at Doyoung. "Can you call Taeil hyung?" he asked that made the other surprised. What is this about? "I need to talk to him." The younger guy nodded, already making his way outside the office.

"Thank you, Yuta," she whispered. "For doing this."

He nodded, kissed her forehead then grinned at her. "Anything for you, (Y/N)." He gestured to the computer on his desk. "You can use it while I'm in the meeting. I'll be back before Taeil hyung gets here. If you're hungry, just call for a delivery." She nodded. Is this the right thing to do?

That morning, she asked for Yuta's help in finding her dad. Although he had done traumatic things to her, he's still the only member of her small family left and she badly missed him. She wanted to tell him that her life is in order now, that she wanted him, still, to be part of her life. She wanted to ask for his blessing to marry Yuta, wanted him to walk her on the aisle of her wedding day. Wanted him to be one of the firsts to hold his grandkid. She just wanted to see if he's okay.

Her nervousness lead to drawing an exact copy of Yuta's office on her drawing tablet. This can be a nice setting for her illustration. But how can a CEO and secretary have sex in this large office? What will happen if she becomes Yuta's secretary?

It was a cliché scene. The CEO being angry that the proposal he made got rejected by a multi-million dollar company that he started fucking his secretary on the oak table of his office. Too cliché, she thought. This will get rejected again, she's sure of that.

But the image of Yuta fucking a girl, a blonde girl with a curvaceous body, on his desk can’t leave her mind. If she didn’t know him well, she might think that he’s a playboy who makes a girl scream due to amazing pleasure in his office. She giggled at that, Yuta can definitely do that with his stamina.

Like always, she was in her own world while doing her illustration. By the fourth panel, she felt someone sat beside her. Yuta was chuckling when she made a desperate attempt to hide what she was doing. "Is that supposed to be me?" he asked while laughing. "Is that your fantasy?" he asked, his arm wrapped around her waist while the other grazed on her thigh. "To be fucked on my office table?"

A whimper escaped her lips as his soft lips kept nibbling on the side of her neck. Her breathing became ragged as his hands move upward to touch her. "Yes." she breathed then moaned when one of his hands cupped her clothed breast. His other hand moved closer to her core, pushing the zipper of her jeans that it puts pressure on her clit.

"I always think of you when I'm alone here in my office," he whispered then licked her earlobe that earned a soft purr from her. His fingers went to her clothed core, tracing the wetness from her underwear. "I want to fuck you in that window."

The imagery of her naked in his office and being fucked deliciously by Yuta on that full glass window was the only thing running in her mind. Her breathing shallowed as she felt his hand inside her shirt, tracing her hardening nipple on top of her bra. His other hand massaged her clothed wetness that she jerked her hip up to create friction. "Yuta…" she called, clawing on the sofa. "I'm close…"

A knock on the door made Yuta stop and she whined at the loss of touch. God, she's near her climax but Yuta had to stop. And what the hell? Who might be knocking that disturb them? Once her breathing stabilized, Yuta gave her a breathtaking kiss that made her glare playfully. "Come in," he said while laughing at her annoyed state.

Doyoung came into the office followed by someone else, this might be Taeil, (Y/N) thought. "Love, this is Moon Taeil, he's an investigator I met while working here." he introduced. The guy lend a hand to shake. "My girlfriend, (Y/N)." And the way he said those words made Doyoung smile. He's too comfortable addressing her as his girlfriend.

He laid out pictures on the table that surprised the only girl in the room. She was just talking to Yuta about this earlier in the morning and now, here are pictures of where he is. This investigator is good, too good. "A psychiatric clinic in Gimhae." Yuta had to hold her hand to remind her that he's next to her as they listened to Taeil. "He was put in jail for stealing alcohol and assaulting an older woman." But why a psychiatry clinic? "He beat to death another prisoner so they decided to put him in a psychiatry clinic."

"Beat to death? Did the prisoner die?" Yuta had to ask. Taeil shook his head and (Y/N) let go of the breath that she's holding on for too long. That's a relief. "Did you know why he almost killed someone?"

Taeil looked at (Y/N) that confused Yuta. "His daughter." A choke escaped (Y/N)'s lips. The guy had to breathe hard before telling them the whole story. Apparently, the other prisoner kept on talking about his daughter and how they'll meet again when he gets out. The next thing the jail guards knew, her dad was choking his neck while saying that daughters are the worst. "He kept on whispering that he never killed his daughter, that he didn't do anything wrong so they had to put him in a psychiatric ward."

(Y/N) hated that the investigator is too good that he even found out about that fact. Now, she doesn't know what to do with that information now. She knew he hated her, but not to the extent that he would think that she's dead. Does he really not want her in his life?

She was just quiet the whole ride going home. "Do you want to see your dad?" He asked that made her look at him, funny he would ask that. “Or do you want to just go home…?”

“Bungeoppang,” she answered. “I want to eat bungeoppang.”

Yuta didn’t believe that food can comfort her in a time like this. But she seemed genuinely happy eating the fish-shaped buns that he was considering buying a store that sells bungeoppang just for her. How can a lovely girl, so adorable, like her, experience these hardships in life? She really doesn’t deserve this. She’s like a broken gem in his eyes and he wanted to pick up the broken pieces just to see her whole again even if it meant hurting him. “My kintsukuroi,” he mumbled, making her look at him.

He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, smiling at her. “I want to marry you.” His elbow was on the table, his head propped on his hand while staring at her. “I’m going to give you so much love that you’ll grow sick of me.” The hand that was on her hair earlier, held her hand that was on top of the table, threading their fingers together. “I’m going to love you until death. Even if you cheat on me.” She giggled at that. Yuta and his words.

“Why would I even cheat if I have you?” Yuta had to bite his lip to avoid smiling too much. God, he’s really in love with her.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️

Chapter 20 / Chapter 22

#yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #nct smut #yutasmut #yutanakamotosmut #nctsmut

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livia-dovehallow · 3 years

Note

Hello ! I just finish COI and I love your gabrily fics,

CHAIN OF IRON SPOILER

so can you do one about the part of Gabriel near death experience, maybe in the infirmary or Cecily realising Gabriel in distress with Anna, Christopher and Alexander in it ?

THANK YOU!! :’) You actually have the perfect request as I was already working on a piece on that exact topic. I plan to make an extended version of this soon, but for now, please enjoy!

WARNING: COI SPOILERS AHEAD

Stay With Me - Gabrily (Chain of Iron Fix-It Series by livia-dovehallow)

Characters: Gabriel Lightwood, Cecily Herondale-Lightwood, Anna Lightwood, Christopher Lightwood, Alexander Lightwood, Will Herondale, Thomas Lightwood, Alastair Carstairs

Time slowed down.

As if the world had stopped along with the beat of her heart, Cecily could only watch as the creature’s barbed tentacle grabbed hold of her Gabriel and brought him down.

“Father!” she heard her precious Kit scream before he ran toward Gabriel, Thomas and Alastair Carstairs close behind.

No, Cecily thought, Raziel, no, please no. She held the witchlight stone in her hand with a grip that should have shattered an ordinary rock. She knew she shouldn’t scream; Alexander was in the room, sitting quietly on the bed behind her, and she need not frighten him more than he already was.

“Be brave, my darling,” she had told him when they first fled up the stairs. She had tucked him in below the sheets, kissed his head, and gazed into his wide, scared eyes. “We are brave, yes?”

Alex had nodded and believed her. Cecily did not believe her own words now.

A scream—a terrified, broken scream—lay stuck in her throat. Gabriel was nowhere to be seen, taken below the murky waters. The only sign he was still alive were the signs of struggle in the rippling water and the young boys slashing vigorously at the creature’s extended body. Christopher was unlike his normal self; his face was hard, his body swinging and throwing with all its might. Cecily did not know what she would do if she lost them both today—the love of her life and their sweet, sweet boy.

She knew her marriage runes were symbolic—meant to display their vows of love and loyalty to one another—but she did not lose faith that there was something more. Something beyond symbols that connected her to Gabriel.

Come back to me, Cecily prayed. Come back to me, Gabriel. Please don’t leave me now.

This was not how Gabriel wanted to end his day. Or his life, for that matter.

The barbs on the tentacle twisted around him dug deep into his skin. Had he screamed with the pain then he would have drowned by now, surely. He heard Christopher’s shout before he went below the water and hoped he was all right. Gabriel wanted to live, but if giving his life meant his family would live, it was an easy decision.

Above him he could see the faintest of shadows indicating that there were people above him fighting to set him free. He knew from the shape of one of the shadows that it had to be Thomas and Christopher there, hacking away. The third shadow was anyone’s guess.

Gabriel thrashed, ignoring the continual digging of the barbs into his skin. He’d lost his knife in the fall but there was no time for sorrow now. Just as he was about to pull a Will Herondale and sink his teeth into the closest flesh, a ringing sound went through his mind.

Come back to me, Gabriel.

It was Cecily. He would know her voice anywhere. He thought of years past, when she had nearly died taking down a pack of Raum demons and he was sure he was moments away from losing her. He would not do that to her.

A wave of strength came over him. He turned his body and rammed against the boulder he had fallen from. He fought for a sturdy grip, reaching higher and higher until—

A hand clasped around his wrist and pulled hard. At the same moment, the tentacle engulfing him fell away with a screech, and the rest of his body came flying through the waves and back onto the solid rock, where he lay gasping for air.

“Father!”

“Uncle Gabriel!”

Gabriel coughed up water before looking up into the concerned and frightened eyes of his son and nephew. “Are you hurt?” he choked, reaching his hands toward the both of them.

Christopher burst; his lavender eyes wild. “Me? Father, you are bleeding! Thomas, where is your stele?”

Thomas fumbled at his coat desperately and swore. “Bridgestock took it from me!”

“Use mine.”

Gabriel glanced behind Thomas and was surprised to find Alastair Carstairs standing there. He held his hand out to Thomas, offering his stele with a softer expression on his face than Gabriel had ever recalled seeing. Without a moment’s hesitation, Thomas took the stele and began scribbling runes all over Gabriel’s arm.

The world suddenly went silent. Then, a roaring thunder sounded across the Institute lawn as the water that had filled the land drained away; the monstrous tentacles draining away with it.

“Bring him down,” Thomas said to Christopher. “They’ll be filling the infirmary soon.”

Christopher paled; his eyes wide toward the Institute. Gabriel started. He was badly injured and bleeding, but the look of fear on his son’s face paled in comparison. “What is it, Kit?”

Christopher swallowed; then, in a shaking whisper, said: “Mam’s coming.”

The boys scrambled quickly to bring Gabriel down to flat ground. Gabriel turned toward the doors. The closer Cecily got, the more he realized that the fierce expression on her face was not anger--it was desperation. She was, or at least had been, crying.

“Mam,” Christopher started, but faltered when Cecily reached them. She fell to her knees beside them and brought Kit into her arms in an iron embrace. “Are you hurt?” she fretted, looking him over. A stele had appeared in her hand, though from where, Gabriel couldn’t say. Years of marriage had not yet answered the mysterious origin of a mother’s love and protection.

Christopher shook his head. “Father—”

Cecily turned to him, her skin flushed, eyes wide with worry. She kissed Kit’s head and scrambled to Gabriel’s side, her eyes now scanning his body. He knew it was not a pretty sight—the barbs had torn his flesh and he’d lost a significant amount of blood. “Cecy—” he began and was promptly cut off.

“Boys, we must move him to the infirmary,” she commanded, gathering her skirts and squatting, ready to lift. “Now.”

There was no disobeying her; Thomas, Christopher, and Alastair all assisted her in lifting him off the ground without the slightest hint of hesitation or protest. The scenery passed Gabriel in a blur; of Anna spotting them and racing down from her position; Will running between the injured and barking commands; even James, Lucie, Matthew, and Cordelia appearing at the gates.

The infirmary was in chaos. Beds had been quickly assembled and set across the vast room. There had been no deaths reported yet, and Cecily Lightwood was determined to keep it that way.

After ensuring that all three of her children were safe and unhurt, she sent them upstairs to stay with Alexander. “Keep him busy,” she had told them, her heart racing. “He’s frightened.”

“So are we,” Anna had answered, but it was not argumentative. Cecily placed her hands on both their cheeks.

“Your father is a stubborn one,” she had said. She smiled, though it was wavering. “He will not go without a fight. I will make sure of that.”

With a flurry of kisses and “I love you’s,” the children finally left to care for their brother, leaving Cecily at Gabriel’s beside squeezing his hand tight while a Silent Brother tended to his wounds.

“Stay with me,” she whispered to him. His eyes were fluttering. He was fighting hard to stay awake, yet he had not the energy to do much else. Against her will, Cecily’s tears had begun to fall again. “Stay with me, Gabriel. I love you. I love you.”

Cecily had begun to fall into a dark pit of grief when she felt a hand grip her shoulder tight. She turned to find her brother looking at her intensely, concern evident in his expression. He said nothing, but she knew that he would always be there when she needed him, and here he was. “I can’t lose him,” she told him blankly.

“You won’t,” Will said.

“Is that what you told him, too?”

Will’s eyes were sad. “Yes. And here you are, aren’t you?”

Cecily placed her hand over her brother’s on her shoulder and looked back at Gabriel. His fight to stay awake was lost. He was too pale for her liking, his lips faded into the slightest memory of pink. “The children need their father.”

She felt a tugging at her arm and found herself being lifted from her seat and into Will’s arms. He held her tight and rubbed her back soothingly. “The last thing Gabriel would ever do is leave you or the children,” he assured her. “Not if he has any say about it. The man is a stubborn and loyal bastard.”

Cecily was unsure how much time had passed since she had last seen her children. Jem had come by to treat Gabriel, who slept, and had told her to take a break. It would do him no good if he woke and saw she had not eaten or slept.

When Cecily emerged from the infirmary, she found all three of her children posted along the wall across from the infirmary entrance. Anna and Christopher sat beside one another, each resting their head on the other’s. Alex sat in Christopher’s lap, his back to his brother’s chest, and was fast asleep. The sight alone warmed Cecily’s heart, a welcome distraction from the wounds that nearly tore the love of her life away from her.

She stepped forward and kneeled in front of them. She hated to wake them, but the corridor was cold, and she worried they may catch a cold waiting out there for too long. “Fy anwylyd,” she said gently, brushing their cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. “Come along. It’s much too cold to wait here.”

“Mam?” It was Alex, blinking sleepy eyes at her. He shifted his position, which woke Christopher with a sudden, “What ho!” and disoriented expression.

Cecily smiled gently at them. Her boys were such gentle people that sometimes she could not believe they came from her. “Come along now,” she repeated.

Anna lifted her head from Christopher’s with a tired scowl. “Watch your head,” she told him, rubbing her temple. “Those curls do not provide ample cushion for sudden movements.”

“Sorry,” Christopher mumbled, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. “Mam,” he said upon noticing her kneeling in front of him. “Is Father all right?”

Cecily brushed his curls from his face. “He will be,” she said softly. “It will take time for him to heal, but he will be all right.”

Relief filled her children’s faces—even Anna’s, who had pretended she wasn’t terribly worried despite rightfully being so. “Can we see him?” she asked carefully. Cecily patted her knee.

“In a bit,” she told them and stood. She held her hands out to them, to help them stand or hand Alex over, whichever they chose. They chose to hand Alex over. He immediately hooked himself onto her neck and dug his heels into her side, firmly planting himself there in her arms. “He’s been given a sedative to sleep while the Brothers work to heal him. Your father will fret over us all if we have not eaten or slept before visiting him, you know.”

“Bridget is cooking a feast in the kitchen with so many people about the Institute. I hope there are still lemon tarts,” Christopher said wistfully. “I can save one for Father, too.”

Cecily smiled. “Let’s go find them before the others do.”

When Gabriel awoke, he had forgotten where he was. His body ached terribly and he could feel beads of sweat drip from the hair at the base of his neck. He could feel something warm in his hand—something comforting. He forced his eyes opened and groaned.

“Father,” someone gasped. The warm feeling—a hand—tightened in his and a head full of dark hair shot up beside him.

Cecily gazed at him, her grip strong as it ever was. Her hair had fallen from its pins when she rose from his shoulder, but he’d never been so happy to see her looks so disheveled. She rose her other hand and brushed at his cheek softly. “How are you feeling?” she whispered. Over her shoulder he could see his children. Anna, with Alexander climbing about her back, and Christopher stood beside each other, hope and weariness filling their eyes. He smiled at them all.

“I ache,” he admitted. “I don’t think I can move very much. But I don’t feel terribly under the weather.” He squeezed his wife’s hand with as much strength as he could muster. He saw the tension release from her shoulders and felt himself relax with her.

“Incredible!” Christopher said in awe. Gabriel met his son’s eyes and smiled in amusement. Christopher was observing the bandages across his body with fascination. “These were severe injuries, Father, and you only ache? I must figure out how that’s possible and recreate it in the lab.”

“I’ll do what I can to help,” Gabriel answered affectionately. Christopher grinned.

Cecily brushed away the hairs that had fallen into her husband’s eyes. He had regained color in his skin soon after waking up and looked like her lively Gabriel once again. She’d sat beside him for hours upon hours, her children coming and going throughout. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay with me?” she wondered aloud with a soft shake of her head. Gabriel chuckled. “This is not a request. It is a demand.”

“Leave this?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to their children asleep, their heads on the end of his bed, and Alex clearly enjoying the nook between Gabriel’s feet and the iron railing at the foot of his bed. He turned back to Cecily. “Not a chance. I’ve worked too hard to get here. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lightwood, but I will not be throwing away all my hard work.”

Cecily’s smile grew until she could no longer hold in her laugh. “Hard work indeed,” she said and kissed him.

@tsccreatorsnet

#maggie answers #kind anons #request #chain of iron #chain of iron spoilers #coi spoilers #tlh spoilers #tsc spoilers #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #anna lightwood #christopher lightwood #alexander lightwood #will herondale #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #chain of gold #the last hours

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shellbilee · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday Baby

Pairing: Henry x Reader/you

Words: 4K

Warnings: fluff and smut!

A/N: SO this was the little one shot I put together for Henry’s birthday this year. It SHOULD have been posted three days ago but i’ve had a hellish few days with my puppy and emergency vet visits and so tumblr was unfortunately pushed out of my brain and not even visited. He’s back on the mend now, slowly! Please enjoy x

It was well past midnight by the time Henry finally made it home, the taxi flashing its headlights at him as he sprinted up the driveway in an effort to escape the pouring rain. He made it through the front door and closed it behind him with his foot, trying in vain to shake off the water from his near drenched clothes. He let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his wet hair, kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his damp jacket. Finally. Home.

It was just his luck that the torrential rain had begun the moment his plane had touched down, the fat, wet rain drops practically saturating him in the thirty seconds it had taken him to exit the plane and run across the tarmac. It was still pouring outside, the sound of the rain heavy and loud against the roof, a stark contrast to the dead silence of the house around him.

He made his way down the hallway and into the main living area only to be met by Kal, the furry hound excited though clearly still fuzzy with sleep as he greeted his master. “Hey bear” Henry whispered, bending down to ruffle his dog’s enormous chest. God he’d missed his loyal hound. He’d been away for two weeks and although he’d been away for longer in the past, it still didn’t make being apart from him any easier.

He stood up when Kal was satisfied with his welcome, smiling down at the bear before casting his eyes over to the kitchen. Two empty wine glasses and a full bottle of his favourite red sat on the marble bench, next to them a pizza box from his favourite Italian restaurant, Giuseppe’s. He smiled, feeling his heart simultaneously swell and sink in his chest. You.

He knew that you’d put together a special night, all of his favourite things just for him, waiting for him at home to celebrate his 37th birthday. He’d wanted to come home so badly, counting the minutes until he’d get to walk through the door and scoop you into his arms, but it was like the more he thought about it, the more delays he was met with. Eventually he’d had to message you and say that he’d be home much later than anticipated, disappointment souring his tongue when you’d responded and reassured him that it was okay even though he knew it wasn’t.

Still, he’d half smiled when he’d read your next message - telling him to get home safe and that you loved him, just like you always did. You didn’t mind that he was missing the night that you’d planned just for him, instead only caring that he made it home in one piece. Henry loved that about you, how you were always so understanding, so forgiving, so accepting of the lifestyle that you’d been thrown into because of him.

He’d known that his work meant never being able to have ‘normal’ relationships and for years he’d felt the effects of that. Never finding anyone who truly understood it, never finding anyone who could really handle the sacrifices that came with dating him. He’d started to believe that he’d never find that one person - the one for him, his soul mate, the one that deep down everyone truly believed they’d one day find, eventually resigning himself to the idea that he’d be alone forever. That was, until, the day he’d met you.

You’d come into his life by chance and changed everything as he knew it, and it wasn’t long before he was certain that he’d found his one. You. Never once had you complained when he’d missed dinners or date nights, when he’d said he’d be home at 7 but hadn’t walked through the door until midnight, when you’d had to attend birthdays and family events by yourself because of last minute interruptions. Not once. You’d only ever smiled, reminded him that you’d loved him and made him promise to get home safely. Henry smiled. You.

He turned and moved to make his way upstairs, pausing momentarily when his gaze fell on the kitchen table. He felt the smile on his face grow before he could even think about it, moving towards the table and spying the homemade white iced cake that he knew without seeing the inside was his favourite red velvet. His eyes skimmed over the unlit candles and box of matches sitting beside it, coming to rest on a small piece of pink note paper tucked beneath the cake plate. He smiled as he reached for it, realising you’d left him a message, a tiny note left just for him scribbled in your perfectly neat handwriting.

Hey baby!

If you’re reading this it means I really tried to wait up for you but clearly didn’t make it.

Since it’s probably past midnight, I’ll be the first to say, Happy Birthday my handsome man!

I love you with my whole heart and everything in between.

PS. Get your ass upstairs and kiss me!

Henry couldn’t help but grin at your adorable words, dropping the note back on the table and making his way upstairs. He kept his footsteps light as he ascended the stairs, feet shuffling along the carpet as he crept towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake you. The scent of passionfruit and lime filled his nose and he knew instantly that you’d left your favourite candle burning - something he’d told you repeatedly not to do for fear of causing a house fire. Still, the sight he found when he opened the door made his heart flutter in his chest, a warmth flooding his body as his eyes fell on you in bed.

You were snuggled up in the duvet, your whole head covered like you always did, your body looking small and lost among the expansive king size bed. He smiled and leaned against the doorway, watching you for a long moment, letting out a gentle exhale as he took in everything he’d missed while he’d been away. He could hear the soft melody of a Thomas Rhett song playing over your Google speaker - your ‘soft’ playlist that he’d learnt you’d always played whenever you went to sleep, the soft sound of your relaxed breathing only just audible over the music.

He smiled and slipped his bag off his shoulder, setting about getting undressed as quietly as he could without disturbing you. He paused momentarily when he heard you shift on the bed, unable to help his almost silent laugh when he saw you kick your leg out from under the blanket and wrap it over the top. It was something you did often that never failed to make Henry laugh - the rest of your body would be entirely covered by blankets but for whatever reason you almost always had one leg out. He shook his head and smiled, dropping the last of his damp clothes on the bedroom chair before sliding into bed beside you.

Henry watched as you stirred, sliding his arm underneath your pillow and pulling you closer to him, taking a moment to relish in the warmth radiating from your body. He smiled as he looked down at you, admiring your sleeping form, taking in your full, slightly parted lips, the faint sprinkle of freckles across your face, your long eyelashes fanned across your cheeks. For the millionth time since he’d first met you he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you were, bending to press a gentle, tender kiss to your parted lips.

He watched as a soft frown furrowed your brow, your arms releasing the pillow - his pillow, that they’d been wrapped around and reaching out to his side of the bed. “Henry?” you murmured without opening your eyes, Henry smiling down at you and reaching out to caress your cheek with his thumb. “Hi darling girl” he whispered, his hand moving up into your hair and brushing a loose lock away from your face, “I missed you”. He watched as you smiled without opening your eyes, letting out a soft breath and reaching out to drape your arm across his naked chest. You scooted closer to him and nuzzled into his side, Henry bending to bury his nose in your hair and breathing in the scent he’d been unable to stop thinking about for the past two weeks.

“Happy birthday baby” you whispered against his skin, Henry’s lips parting into an involuntary smile at the sound of your soft, sleepy voice. “Thank you sweetheart. I’m sorry I’m so late” he whispered in reply, his free hand moving to your back and drawing imaginary shapes over your silky soft skin, “I saw everything downstairs. I’m so sorry I didn’t make it”. You let out a soft sigh and smiled against him. “It doesn’t matter” you replied, your sleepy voice barely louder than a whisper, “You’re here now”.

Henry smiled and bent to kiss the top of your head again, watching as you began to doze back off into a peaceful sleep against his side. He let out a gentle sigh and wrapped his arm tighter around your body, the other still running gently along your skin. He could tell you were naked save for a pair of panties, your skin feeling like warm silk against his as you cuddled against his side. He inhaled deeply and looked down at your face, the burning candle on the bedside table casting a warm, flickering glow across your skin. He smiled. God how he’d missed you.

Your gorgeous face, your delicious sweet scent, the feel of your silky smooth skin against his. It was all he could think about whenever he had to leave for work, always wanting nothing more than to have his arms wrapped around you, his hands against your naked skin, fingers running up and down your glorious curves. The video chats you’d shared every other night didn’t exactly help either, not with you looking nothing short of a seductive goddess as you lay in bed and spoke to him through the camera. It was on those days that he found he just couldn’t help himself, often bringing himself to his own release either with your help through the screen or with the racy pictures you’d sent him over the months.

Now though, as you lay almost completely naked against him, his hand running up and down your bare back, he couldn’t ignore the stirring of his insides as he thought about what he’d wanted to do so badly while he’d been away. Henry wanted you. He wanted you naked and pressed beneath him, he wanted you breathy and moaning and dropping your head back as he brought you to orgasm. He wanted to watch you find your release, to see and hear the sight he’d all but craved over the past two weeks. He wanted your skin on his skin, your hands gripping his back as you desperately held yourself to him, his name falling from your lips as he brought you to that blissful, heavenly high.

He could feel his arousal growing as he imagined it, taking you right there and then, a heavy breath leaving his lungs as his fingers danced against your silky back. For a moment he was torn - caught between his mounting urge to have you and his guilt at properly waking you, his growing desire suddenly twitching and eliminating the hesitation for him. He let go of his thoughts and shifted on the bed beside you, turning to face you as his fingers skimmed down along your side and came to rest on your hip.

He kept his eyes on your face as he slipped his fingers beneath the thin waistband of your underwear, watching as you stirred and let out a soft, sleepy moan. The sound was like a direct hotline to his groin, his muscles clenching as he trailed his fingers along your skin, his pulse getting heavier as his growing erection quickly became uncomfortable beneath the blankets. He eyed your full, parted lips and listened as your breathing deepened, his fingers skimming further along over the crease of your thigh.

He sucked in a breath at the softness of your thigh, loving how smooth you always were, how you somehow always managed to feel like satin beneath his finger tips. He loved your touch, your scent, your taste, he loved the way you invaded all of his senses until there was nothing left but you. You stirred beneath his touch and suddenly Henry knew it wouldn’t be long before he could no longer help himself, his control rapidly slipping through his fingers as he finally reached his destination with his fingertips.

He bent to kiss your neck as his fingers teased along your silky folds, a breathy, seductive moan suddenly falling from your lips and echoing in his ear. “Oh--Henry” you all but whispered, his lips trailing down your neck as he continued his intimate ministrations. He smiled against your skin when you let out a gentle whimper, his mouth moving past your collarbone as he ever so gently edged you onto your back.

“Henry--” you breathed again, your body slowly lifting further from sleep as you began to gently writhe beneath his touch.“Shhhh sweetheart” Henry whispered, his mouth trailing kisses along your chest as his free hand skimmed up your side to join his lips, “Just lay back”. A heavy breath fell from your lips the moment his mouth closed around your nipple, Henry smiling against your heavenly skin when you ever so slightly arched into him. He loved when you were like this, soft and seductive, sleepy and wanton, almost purring for him as he kissed and suckled your breasts and caressed your intimate folds.

“God I missed you darling girl” Henry whispered when he was satisfied with his work on your breasts, kissing down your abdomen and trailing his fingers down your silky skin until he was crouched between your legs. It was then that he saw you lift your head and open your eyes for the first time since he’d come home, your eyes wide and sleepy and fluttering with an unspoken desire as they looked down at him between your legs. “Lay back for me sweetheart” Henry whispered, keeping his eyes on yours as he dropped a gentle kiss between your hips. When you obliged he tucked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slipped them down your legs, sitting back on his heels and taking a moment to take in the sight in front of him.

Henry couldn’t quite describe how utterly beautiful he thought you were in that moment, his eyes running over every single inch of your soft, glorious curves. The light from the nearby candle cast a warm glow over your skin, the flickering light making shadows dance across your body. It was a sight he knew he could never get enough of, you, his beautiful, all alluring goddess, naked and open, completely exposed in front of him. It was a sight he swore he could look at forever, his hand involuntarily dropping to his now almost painful arousal as he looked down at you in front of him.

No longer able to help himself and stirred on by your impatient, breathy moans, Henry bent and pressed his mouth to your silken folds, finally savouring the taste that he’d only been able to dream about for the last two weeks. He slid his hands up your sides as he settled between your open legs, his eyes watching as you finally came back to full consciousness on the bed. Your hands fisted in the sheets and your eyes squeezed shut as you dropped your head back into the mattress, the first of many moans falling from your throat as he began his intimate torture with his tongue.

Henry kept his eyes on you as he tasted you, sucking at your honeyed arousal as he buried his tongue in your folds. He loved it, tasting you, loved how he could make you a writhing, begging mess completely at his mercy with only a few flicks of his tongue. He knew how much you loved it - almost as much as he loved doing it, knowing that it would forever be your weakness when it came to being intimate with him. He’d dreamed about doing it while he’d been away, his mind having conjured images of you holding on to his hair and crying out his name while he’d suckled between your thighs. Just like the sight of you naked Henry knew he’d never get enough of tasting you, the moans he was teasing from you sounding like a blissful melody in his ears.

He reached up and added his fingers to his carnal assault, using his free hand to steady your hips when you started to writhe beneath him. He knew this would be your undoing, knowing that you weren’t far from your release, one of your hands reaching down to find his curls as your breathing started to shallow. “That’s it darling girl” Henry breathed, his voice seductive yet commanding as he watched you drop your head back into the mattress, “Come on sweetheart, that’s it. Let me hear you”.

Like a timer that had finally reached zero, you arched your back and cried out his name, your breathy voice echoing around the room as he continued to work you through your high. It was only when your body finally stilled that Henry lifted his mouth, bending to press a gentle kiss to your now syrupy folds before sitting back to admire you once again. He was in awe, just as he always was, you, his wanton goddess, exhausted yet far from finished as you looked back at him with hooded eyes.

Neither of you needed to speak after that, an unspoken knowledge that you both shared about what would happen next. Henry exhaled loudly, reaching down to stroke himself as he positioned himself between your open legs, you, biting your lip and bending your legs to settle on either side of his torso. He pushed his hips forward and slowly, tortuously sank himself into you, strangled moans teased from both of you as you relished in the feeling you’d both longed for since he’d been away.

Henry inhaled deeply, feeling the pleasure flood through him as he stilled within you, knowing at that moment that he’d never be able to get enough of you. He loved being inside you, loved the way it felt as you stretched around him, loved the way his muscles clenched with every single movement. A blissful ecstasy, a decadence that he wanted to indulge in again and again and again, a carnal hedonism that he’d never be able to properly describe. God how he’d missed it, missed you and being inside you, holding you tight against him as he buried himself within you.

He looked down at you as you lifted your head to meet his eye, your arms reaching out for him and pulling him down to you. His arms wrapped around you as yours gripped at his back, your lips meeting in a sensual kiss as Henry started to thrust into you. Loud, wet slaps of his hips meeting your pelvis echoed throughout the room, the erotic sound of skin on skin like an arousing background noise. It wasn’t long before he found a steady rhythm, his kisses languid and passionate as he pushed himself in and out. His hips rocked against yours and he held you tight against his body, showing you just how much he missed you as he slowly fucked you into the sheets. He took his time, he was in no rush, nothing else existing in the world except you and him.

It was all lazy lips and tongues, tender caresses and touches, Henry holding you tight as you mewled almost helplessly against him. He loved fucking you like this, slow and passionate, every single one of his senses completely enveloped by you. Your sweet scent in his nose, your silky smooth skin beneath his finger tips, the sound of his name in your breathy voice, the sight of your parted lips as you dropped your head back in utter pleasure. You were everywhere, surrounding him completely, Henry letting out a groan when he felt you start to tighten around him minutes later.

He knew this meant you were close, hurtling toward the edge, racing to the finish line, your nails digging into his back as your grip on his muscles tightened. He wanted to see you, hear you reach your high, feel you explode around him and hold to him for dear life like you always did. He reached back and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, bending to capture your lips he and swallow your moans at the feeling of the new deeper angle he’d found. He quickened his pace knowing that he too, wasn’t far from his own release, kissing you passionately and tightening his grip on your skin.

"That's it sweetheart" Henry breathed, his voice low and heavy as he thrust into you, "Come again for me. Let go darling, let go". Just like clockwork, he felt you find your release moments later, your muscles spasming in his arms as you buried your head in his neck and cried out his name into his skin. The feel of you tightening around him was enough to bring his own finish, every single one of his muscles suddenly contracting as he felt warmth explode in his center and flood throughout his body. Your name tumbled from his lips and his arms held you flush against his body, his entire body trembling as he emptied himself inside you.

Neither of you moved for a long moment, sweaty, sated and still as you held each other silently within the sheets. The rain was still heavy outside, the sound of it pelting against the house loud in Henry’s ears as he panted, trying to regain his lost breath as he held you to him. He bent and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers running down your silky skin as he ever so slowly unwrapped his limbs from yours. He looked down at you and smiled. “I love you”.

He watched as you lifted your head to look at him, your eyes wide and sleepy and filled with nothing but love as you looked back at him. “I love you too Henry”. He smiled gently and reached down to caress your cheek with his thumb, your bodies still connected as he lay settled between your open legs. He watched as you closed your eyes and smiled, letting out a tiny laugh with a barely audible sound.

He frowned and tilted his head curiously. “What is it? What are you laughing at?”. You shook your head gently, opening your eyes and smiling up at him from your spot beneath him. “I had this planned so differently, this was not how your birthday was supposed to start. I had a surprise that I wanted to wear for you and everything”. Henry chuckled, “Sweetheart, my birthday began perfectly, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way except me being here sooner”. He paused and lifted his arm to look at his watch, turning back to look down at you with a mischievous grin. “Besides, lucky for me, it’s only officially been my birthday for four hours” he explained slowly, his grin growing even wider, “So I believe we still have plenty of time for that surprise, and, since it’s my birthday, I can’t wait to spend the rest of the day in bed, peeling that surprise off of you”.

----

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calpops · 4 years

Text

falling facade | c.h.

part five: falling fame

part one: falling flowers | part two: falling freedom | part three: falling fears | part four: falling failures

5k words

<< >>

Calming waves crashed on the shore line; Calum’s gaze would have been trained on the sea but Arden sat next to him in the soft light of the evening. A few weeks had passed since their last scheduled promotional post—the picture of them with Duke and the ring in sight had gone over well. They had found time away from the facade and with each other. Arden found solace in the quiet of Calum’s home in comparison to the chaos of Michael’s. Calum welcomed her, often inviting her, sometimes with the ruse of the fake engagement and sometimes all pretenses were dropped in favor of being real. All the time spent together offered new and old knowledge. Calum was finding memories with Arden he hadn’t remembered in ages. He was learning things from the years they were strangers.

“I can’t believe our parents are coming to check on us,” Arden said around a sigh as her fingers dug into the soft sand they sat on. “It’s like we’re twelve and in trouble.”

Calum chuckled at her thought and shifted to angle himself closer to her, to see her better and catch glimpses of the diamond on her finger sifting in and out of the sand. Her cheeks were pink from the day in the sun they had, hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head and eyes guarded by sunglasses. They had stayed at Calum’s for most of the afternoon but a settled feeling of stir craziness engulfed both of them. Calum suggested the beach and when Arden scrunched up her nose and made a comment about it being packed and filled with tourists Calum smiled and promised his beach wouldn’t be. It was just a small sliver of sand tucked past a pier; only a few people ever ventured to the other side. It was quiet and desolate when they arrived.

“I can’t believe they’ve held off for so long,” Calum rebutted and ate up the raised eyebrow and crooked smirk Arden gave him in response. “Figure my mum would’ve hopped a flight the night the first picture was posted. Really going on a month without parents intervening is just short of a miracle.”

“I guess,” she said with a shrug as grains of sand slipped through her fingers and back to the earth. Calum watched as she lazily ran one finger through the grains, an indent of a scribble following her finger. “I don’t know what we’re going to tell them.”

Calum nodded, more to himself as thoughts consumed him, and shifted once more. His parents had laid off the questioning when it became apparent he couldn’t give them the answers they were looking for. Hence the surprise visit just in time with Arden’s parents' sudden decision to fly out as well. Calum and Arden knew it was planned, that they had called each other behind their backs with only concern and questions as motivation. It was too convenient to not be a joint check up. He didn’t know what they were going to tell them either. He had held his own parents off by telling them they were figuring things out; being a bit evasive and leaving explanations open ended and up for interpretation.

“What have you told your parents so far?” Calum asked, eyes content to stay on Arden as she wiggled her bare feet in the sand and her finger stalled in its scribbling motion.

“Not much,” she admitted and shrugged. “I didn’t really know what to say so I didn’t say much of anything. Sometimes I don’t answer. Sometimes I just let them talk at me.”

The difference in their methods was striking. Calum leaned back, hands hitting the warm sand and sinking in with his weight. Arden went completely still and contemplative. Calum did some thinking as well. It would be so easy to keep up the narrative they had going. The month they had spent together brought them closer and made the fake relationship feel all the more real; especially in moments where guards were down and the only eyes on them were each others’. Calum could very easily pretend the ring on her finger was real but they were still unsure if they were going forward. Arden had been the one to sway him into telling half truths; asked him to keep secrets so she wouldn’t disappoint her parents. And he had been the one to beg her and convince her into the fake relationship in the first place; it had been his words and pleading gazes that made her signature appear on the contracts.

“We don’t need to tell them everything,” Calum suggested and Arden’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. “Stick with what they do know and keep playing it vague.”

Arden shrugged and looked past Calum; her eyes were distant past dark lenses but he knew she was staring off at the sea. Taking in the waves and the way the light of the day faded and shifted to rosy hues that made everything glimmer with a tint of pink. It brought back memories of an abstract painting hanging in the Clifford house; a piece of art designed by gentle hands.

“Is that really what you want to do?” Arden asked and took the sunglasses off her face, perched them on her head and gave new life to hazel eyes. She gave Calum a serious glance, one that asked even more questions than the single sentence she had uttered. “I know you’re really close with your family. It’ll be a lot harder to keep up the act in person. We could just tell them and get the disappointment out of the way. Maybe it’s better to do it sooner rather than later.”

Calum considered her words deeply. He knew it would be strange to evade the entire truth with his family; he was nearly certain Mali wasn’t buying anything that he came up with for explanation and could read past the headlines and tabloids. Calum almost took her up on the offer, but the way her hazel eyes went glossy and her teeth sank into her lower lip stopped him. He shook himself, reminded himself of the deal he had made in his own mind. He brought Arden into this; whether or not it was his idea to get the ring and post the photo—they were both still hazy on that front—it was his management they were appeasing. To keep her safe. From the media, from management, from fans and friends and family.

“We might as well keep playing it the way we have,” Calum suggested even though the words burned the back of his throat just a bit. “We can tell them all of it when we’re ready. They’ll understand. What with the contracts and everything.”

Everything being the confusion that clung to Calum. Being the sense of protectiveness he had developed for Arden. The extremes they were fighting against. Arden let out a breath of relief and Calum knew he made the right decision and chose the right words.

“Thank you,” she said with unwavering eye contact that instilled even more faith in the path they were following.

They held gazes for a moment; the nervous fluttering and heat in Calum’s chest made him look away. Back to the ocean that reminded him of swirls of paint and moments he was starting to remember. He didn’t know how many times he had passed Arden’s painting in the hallway of the Clifford house. Only now, when it was out of sight did he pay it any mind. Arden stretched out beside him, let her hands fall behind her as she leaned back before eventually completely collapsing into the sand in a gentle fall. Her arms went behind her head and Calum was tempted to follow suit but found the view from above too good to miss. His eyes flitted between the evening settling in the sky and Arden lounging in the sand.

“It almost looks like your painting, huh?” He asked, unable to stop the thought from tumbling out of his mouth.

“Hm?” She let out a noise of confusion as she looked up at him.

“The one you did; in the hall at your parents place,” he explained and felt warmth crawl through him, up from his chest to stain his cheeks. “It looked like an ocean sunset to me.”

Arden pursed her lips and let her eyes drift off to the waves glittering with sunset. “Right. That hasn’t been in the hallway for years. Think a record plaque or some music award replaced it a while ago.”

Calum fell silent at that; suddenly immersed in the reality that Arden was his bandmate’s sister and her life had been just as much altered with the rise of the band as theirs had. He hadn’t been to the Clifford residence since their careers took off and they found places of their own. He couldn’t picture the wall with anything but abstract waves and colors that caught and kept attention. Even with a plaque or award that was sure to dominate the wall and domineer confidence Calum thought the wall would feel empty. He noted the downturn of her lips and the way she wouldn’t meet his gaze; something so unnatural for them.

“I always liked it,” Calum said to fill the silence and speak a truth and realization.

“It’s nothing special,” she said and Calum could hear the sentiment of comparing it to the band related piece that claimed its spot. “Art is just a hobby. I’m really not that good.”

The doubt of her own abilities left a lingering ache in Calum’s chest. He yearned to take the sting of her words away, to erase the frown and call her gaze back to his. But she was quiet and watching the water, the even rise and fall of her chest finding rhythm with the rise and crash of waves breaking on the shoreline. Calum bit his lip for a moment.

“I’d like a painting like it,” he decided to say, knowing exactly where it would go and how often he would admire it. He kept his eyes on her as she blushed and finally looked at him.

“Really?”

He nodded and she nodded back; made a half promise that maybe she could do that for him. Her frown disappeared but there was still an air of hurt that captured her. They settled into a somber silence where only the waves made noise between them. The sun was still out; just a touch of light gracing the evening and glittering the beach in a rose gold haze. It was quiet and unknown, hardly anyone lingered on their side of the pier and no one intruded on their business. Calum’s promise that it would be just them was basically fulfilled. Until his eyes swept the sand down the shoreline and found a girl with her phone pointed right at him. At them. Calum’s blood ran fiery through his veins, instincts running wild as he knew the camera was capturing their every move.

“Arden,” he said, trying to keep the panic from his voice so as not to alarm her; so she would stay put and not lurch up to face the camera dead on. “There’s a girl past the pier on the shoreline and I think she’s filming us. Just don’t sit up or look her way.”

Arden went completely still. The usual wiggle of her feet or bounce of her leg was panic stricken and frozen. This was the first encounter with a camera they weren’t expecting. They had employed tactics to keep Arden’s privacy as much as they could. Burying her face against Calum’s chest, hiding behind Duke and a kiss on the cheek, sunglasses and hat to cover up. Calum kept his eye on the girl in the most inconspicuous way he could. Behind his own sunglasses he wasn’t sure she would know his gaze was trained on her as she moved down the shore line and came to a more direct angle of them. Without thinking Calum was moving, shifting his weight to his knees and hands and hovering over the top of a confused Arden.

His back was to the camera and Arden was officially out of sight. She seemed to pick up on his intentions after a moment and a smirk. Her hands came out from behind her head with sand falling from her fingers and palms she settled her hands in his hair, trying to keep up the act and make the position look more natural and intimate. He shifted and settled his weight to one side, hip falling and his body guarding the side of Arden the camera could see. She turned with him, settling against him to better hide her face. Calum felt her warmth against his skin, felt his skin prickle and heart beat a little bit out of rhythm.

“I told you,” she said and her voice rang truths Calum couldn’t forget but would play oblivious to nonetheless. He made a noise of confusion to get her to explain. “I told you if it’s not paparazzi then it’s fans or social media or something.”

“You’re right,” he conceded but sighed. “Sometimes it’s like this. Some fans do this. But not always. Not all of them. It’s been a month and this has only happened once, right?”

It was time for Arden to concede with a timid nod and bitten lip as she considered the truth of his words. Fame always came with a cost; some paid it in droves and pieces of their lives. Others only encountered that cost occasionally. Calum figured that he was set somewhere in the middle.

“Maybe just once is too much for some people,” she said and made Calum’s heart ache; made a piece of hope plummet in his stomach and crash like waves to the shore.

With heart beating fast and hard he sucked in a breath and turned to see if the girl was still lurking. She had taken the hint and headed back toward the pier. Calum thanked her silently, appreciating the fact she didn’t push any further than what had already been done. He didn’t know how Arden would handle having a fan come up directly to them. If it would freak her out, make her freeze; if it and she would be okay or not. Her hands still lingered in his hair and for a selfish moment he stayed quiet; enjoying the feeling and taking a deep breath to try and remember the subtleties. Their moments of intimacy were scattered. The facade of it came with cameras and people who didn’t know the truth. The real moments were defined by privacy and small brushes. Legs touching as they sat next to each other. Hands brushing. Her head rested on his shoulder in a moment of peace. Thank yous said against his cheek.

“I think she’s gone now,” Calum admitted but Arden’s hands surprisingly didn’t fall. “We’re safe.”

Her fingers glided from his hair to his jaw and with bated breath Calum enjoyed the feeling and the flutter of beautiful nerves low in his stomach. Moving together, Calum leaned back and Arden settled to rest her head against his chest, one hand tucked under her and the other laid flat on his stomach. He didn’t say anything, tried to keep his breathing even and worked up the courage to run his fingers lazily up and down her arm. A new moment of bliss captured them as the rest of the world went static and distant. Calum couldn’t focus on the water or the colors of the sunset, he couldn’t hear the waves or the birds chirping overhead. All he could see was Arden’s timid nod and bitten lip; the uncertainty that crossed her face. All he could hear was maybe once is too much.

Sometimes Arden was able to let go of inhibitions and fears of fame. In moments when they were well and truly alone it was as if Calum wasn’t in a known band. He wasn’t a famous musician with fans and media eyes all over him. Arden made him feel normal and safe. But in moments where cameras invaded their privacy it was too much for Arden to forget. It made her feel unusual and uncomfortable.

“We haven’t gone in the water,” Arden said with a soft voice; hazel eyes taking in the ocean for all it was worth. “We should.”

Calum let out a small laugh at her insistence. “It’s probably freezing.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” she brushed it off and began to sit up; the second she was gone Calum missed her presence and the feel of her against him. “C’mon. We can at least dip our feet in. Can’t go to the beach and not go in the ocean.”

Calum followed her lead. Reached a hand out to grab hers and felt her fingers lock with his without even looking back. It was another small moment that defined them. He wasn’t wearing a swimsuit but he braved the lapping water anyway; the cool waves took his breath away as they crashed into his feet and the laughter that fell from Arden’s lips warmed him right back up.

“I told you it was cold,” Calum said as Arden shrieked at the water climbing her shins. He brought her closer with their held hands, let her arms wrap around his neck and laughed when it became apparent she was using him to get away from the cold. “Can’t go to the beach and not go in the ocean.”

Calum repeated her words as he lifted her up and brought them in further, the waves lapping up to her back; shorts and t-shirts quickly soaking with salt water. She threw her head back in laughter at his lighthearted mockery and the way her own words came back to bite her. With the sun setting and the heat of the day fleeing the water was even colder than usual but Calum didn’t mind the bite of cold on his skin when Arden was in his hold. When her shrieks disguised with laughter tumbled through his ears. When his name in her voice cut through and the force of the waves brought them even closer together. It took a few minutes to adjust to the cool temperature, little shivers still trembling Arden’s lips but joy lighting up her eyes.

She fell silent and Calum was quiet too, stood with his feet planted in the sand as the motion of the waves knocked into his legs, hands holding Arden up and the force keeping them close together. For just a split second Calum let himself revel in the fact she was so close. It was reminiscent of the dance floor and the living room. Foreheads pressed together, barely a breath between their smiles. Intoxicating sweetness right before him. And in an instant it was gone. Sugar was replaced with the spray of salt and honey melted away in favor of freezing water. She dropped from his hold but went on tiptoes, arms ducking into the water for the first time and a breath of disbelief rattling her. They looked out to where the waves were building; being only past waist deep they received the crashing end of them. They were alone in the water, a feeling of privacy veiling them as no one dared to brave the cold.

“That one looks…” Arden started, observing the wave building in the distance. “Too big.”

Calum scaled the wave in his mind, finding it to be possibly double the size of what they’d endured so far and his eyes widened. “We should run.”

They erupted into laughter and motion, slowly moving through the water. Calum kept a look out behind them, noting that the distance they put between them and the wave wasn’t enough. He grabbed Arden, arms wrapped around her from behind, held her close and tight and let the wave break against his back. The force of the wave was enough to have them stumbling, but with Calum’s support of Arden she stayed mostly upright as the wave passed them; soaking them completely from head to toe. If Calum hadn’t thought fast and held her she may have gone under from the force. He didn’t know how strong of a swimmer she was and wasn’t about ready to find out.

They stumbled out of the water, planted themselves on the shoreline with sopping wet clothes and hair and laughter that collided with the sunset. The waves barely touched their feet after breaking in the distance and lapping to shore. They took a moment to catch their breath, salt water nearly inhaled in the force of the wave. Calum couldn’t take his eyes off of Arden. The moment was dramatic and drowning but the laughter and the grin that couldn’t be contained left Calum feeling afloat. Her laughter bid his on, let chuckles fall from him in strangled breaths as he looked at her in awe.

“You saved my life,” she remarked once the laughter died down but a smirk still arched her lips and twinkled her eyes as she got up and offered a hand to him—she led him back back into the water, only about knee deep. “But you put it in danger first.”

A small splash accompanied by another giggle landed across his chest in a muted burst of cold. Calum was numb from the bite of cold washing over him so thoroughly, her splash was futile but her laughter made it worthwhile. Suddenly he was swept up in mischief, splashing her back past shrieks and chasing her through the water. Inhibitions slipped away and pooled into the open ocean, ready to drift away with the tide. The tense moment and anxiety of eyes and a camera on them disappeared into the sunset, ignorant bliss shrouded them in a curtain of privacy. They enjoyed the water and the sunset colliding against the waves in subtle bursts of color as time bled away from them; night approached with wind rolling off the waves and dark blue capturing the sky, shivering bodies wrapped in towels Calum was glad he thought to pack.

They abandoned the water and their spot on the sand in favor of the car with the heater thawing out their chills. They stayed parked with a view of the night and the moon glaring through the windshield. They were quiet and so was the night, not even the chirp of birds or the crash of waves made way into their small bubble of privacy. Calum chanced a glance over at Arden, sneaking a peak as she sunk further into the towel and watched the wiggle of her legs attempting to bring warmth back to her. If things were different; if she wasn’t Michael’s sister and their relationship wasn’t built around drunken escapades and forced facades, Calum may have thrown his arm over her shoulders and pulled her along the bench seat and to his side. He may have only packed one towel so they could huddle together under it and revel in each other’s body heat. But she was Arden and he was Calum and everything between them was too complicated for anything other than the facade they were living through. Or at least that’s what Calum convinced himself of in that moment.

Instead he just placed a hand on her knee as he had done before; the contact becoming more familiar with each touch. She smiled at him and slid herself closer, just a bit, just enough to communicate that it was okay and that the moment was real. It served as an answer and dug up more questions. Their moments on the beach, pressed so close and eye to eye. Pieces of her puzzle and past falling together. Calum had to wonder if those moments were real too. The line between pretenses and reality was becoming blurrier and blurrier as time went on and days were spent together without contractual reasoning. The sudden urge that had Calum jumping to shield her was less to do with a fuck you to management and more to do with a sense of protectiveness for her. She was timid in the face of a staged and known paparazzi stunt; Calum’s instincts went into overdrive to keep her okay during an unexpected invasion of privacy.

Their gaze broke for a moment, just long enough for her to let out a sigh and for the weight of it to barrel into Calum. Downcast eyes came back to meet one another and pursed lips and a twitching nose spoke of thoughts neither would say out loud. The quiet that settled between them was delicate, drenched in moonlight and privacy. Calum knew it was getting late but it was a thought he’d rather not say; the prospect of parting ways always hanging in the balance of time.

“It’s late,” Arden finally declared, saying what they both already knew and implying what was always to come. “Should probably head back now.”

Calum nodded and pulled his hand away from her, to put the key in the ignition and followed her suggestion as she slid back into her own seat. The drive was stalled for traffic and it bid Calum time to sneak glances at her; to note the way she burrowed into her towel and seemingly failed to keep wet hair from her eyes. Calum was smirking and holding back gentle laughter at her futile attempts to tuck her hair behind her ear; suppressed the ever present yearning to reach over and do it for her. Instead he reached for the radio and let music guide them back to Michael’s place. It was all too familiar a routine. Days spent together felt timeless yet too fast they would end up back in front of the house, back to Arden exiting the car and leaving Calum alone. The only good being the brush of her lips against his warmed cheek as she said her usual goodbye and thank you.

The house was calmer than usual when they pulled up but a light at the front was on for Arden’s homecoming. Neither moved once the car was in park—another piece of the routine falling into place. This time the blissful quiet that almost always ensued was interrupted by the ding and vibration of Calum’s phone. It was incessant and annoying, an obstacle to the few moments of alone time he had left with Arden. With eyes rolling and a breath escaping him he was ready to turn the phone off but notifications with Arden’s name stared back at him and stopped all movement. His anxieties and fears of a phone on the beach were trending. Photos and videos filled his timeline; moments he thought were private splashed across the internet for all to see. Calum knew Arden must have sensed the panic he was trying so hard to hide, her movement toward him and eyes finding the phone highlighting that fact.

The protective moment in the sand wasn’t surprising; Calum figured it would be posted but hoped he’d done enough to keep Arden out of the shot. The moments in the waves with laughter and guards down were what left Calum shell shocked. He thought the fan had fled when it was clear he was drawing a boundary in the sand. He thought the moment was theirs and theirs alone. Now it was an invasion of privacy.

Arden shook her head and Calum caught the shine of her eyes that showed her pain and hurt him as well. “I thought that was real.”

“It was,” Calum quickly defended the intrusive thought that his intentions were anything less than real. “I thought she left. We wouldn’t have gone out if I knew she was still taking photos.”

“Okay,” Arden accepted and Calum was relieved she was so quick to believe him; to trust his word even though the photos and tweets were much louder and painted lies so vividly and so easily. “Okay.”

She repeated the word but it was broken the second time, eyes fixating on the text below the photo; Calum followed her gaze and found scalding words of an unwarranted opinion. About her. He pulled the phone away and locked it; wished she hadn’t had to see that and was thankful she usually avoided social media. Hoped she wouldn’t have to see anything like it again.

She made to leave the car but Calum’s hand on her arm stopped her. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

She was confused for a moment but recognition filtered through quickly. “Right. I’m sure our parents will want to interrogate us together.”

She was distant, voice low and eyes wandering straight through Calum and past the tinted windows of the car. He let her go then, fingertips numb at the loss of contact and heart racing as she slipped out of the car without a near taste of sugar or a goodbye. He contained himself until she was in the house and the door was shut. Then his hands gripped the wheel with white knuckle force as he peeled out and headed home with his frustration. He tried to prevent it, tried to keep her from all she thought that fame was. He wanted nothing more than to keep her tucked away and into his side, away from flashing lights and out of headlines more than necessary.

Now the game was spinning out of their control and Arden was questioning what was real. Calum had those moments too but he was always able to reel himself in and feel his way around the uncertainty. He knew what was in his heart and mind, saw reflections of the same feelings in her eyes and all the smaller moments. He could tell she felt the weight of falling fame landing on her shoulders; he just hoped he could keep them and what was real from collapsing under the pressure.

<< >>

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silverkoushi · 3 years

Text

haikyuu!! headcanons

⇢ scenario: how you’d spend the holidays with them!! pt.2 | read pt. 1 here! ⇢ feat. : tsukki (karasuno), bokuto (fukurodani) & kuroo (nekoma) x gn!reader ⇢ wc & warnings: 3.3k, slightly suggestive for kuroo

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ not @ me having the phattest crush on kuroo as you can probably tell here... dear god that man is something edit: omo for some reason the paragraphs got messed up n i just checked it after hours of posting... i fixed it now so hopefully it makes more sense ahh my apologies!! ><

tsukishima kei

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ idk about you but i think tsukki secretly enjoys the holidays? like he’d think the music is overbearing, the movies are disgustingly cliche, and the amount of people gathering in places is one of his worst nightmares— those aren’t the things that he looks forward to. i think tsukki loves winter, maybe because i see him as a softie who collects sweaters, hoodies, and sweatpants that keep him comfy and cozy during cold nights and chilly mornings! WITH THAT BEING SAID, tsukki dies inside when he sees you wearing any of those following outfits of his. he might get annoyed at first that you don’t ask because he was planning on wearing them that day, but when you show up at his dorm clad in his night blue sweater with a little moon stitched on the side, there are no words coming out of his mouth. he will try to look menacing, eyes in a deadpan expression but you know he’s lying, and just stare at him with a doe-like face and put his hands in yours, swinging it back and forth as you drag him out of his room and into the snowy field. you don’t even think twice about getting matching sweaters because the boy will hate you for the rest of his life, but at least you got him to wear a reindeer headband for 2 seconds in the photobooth!! most of the time, you basically just bring him to anywhere you want to go. you guys look at the humongous christmas tree they placed in the center of the plaza, and you ask someone walking by if you can get a picture of the two of you in front of him. this way, tsukki can’t complain and will be semi-forced to pose with you hehe. you thought he’d just be standing there, arms to his side with a nonchalant expression but you actually feel him put his arm around your waist and lean his head down on top of yours.

you can’t help the cheeky smile show on your face as you tiptoe just enough to reach his cheek, and once the guy said, “ok one more!” you steal a kiss on the side of tsukki’s small smile. “hey, what was—” “thanks, mister!! happy holidays!!” you avoid his stare, and get your phone back from the guy as you scroll through the pics he took (thank god only a few were blurry). tsukki keeps glaring at you, and you understand he’s not big into pda but uh, he started it with holding you close to him like that >:( “what?? you look so cute here, though!!” you whine to him, hoping he doesn’t ask that you delete it :( tsukki gives it a once over, a warm feeling creeping on his cheeks as he studies the picture: damn, is he whipped for you. he dismisses the overreaction on his part (for once), and takes your hand in his once more, asking where it is you wanted to go next. you’re surprised he left it like that, but you’re taking advantage of this situation and drag him to more festive stuff around the plaza <3

with your parents spending the holidays abroad and working overtime, tsukki’s mom invited you to their place instead and you’re!! more than happy and oh so grateful!! tsukki doesn’t show it but he’s actually extremely nervous,, what if you don’t like his family?? what if his brother is too annoying for you, what if this isn’t the kind of in-laws you were expecting— wait, he’s thinking too far ahead and you’re looking at him with raised eyebrows. quick! he turns away from your gaze, biting his lip at getting caught with his overthinking. “tsukki, you okay?” you ask gently, looping your arm around his as you guys near his house. “yeah…” he responds lamely, and you’re not sure if he wanted you at his house for the holidays or what… but you shake the negativity away and tell yourself that this is an opportunity to show your own personality to his family!! you’re greeted by a boisterous even taller guy at the door, and his also really tall mom waving at you from the kitchen, finishing up the grand dinner. “mom and i thought you were just pretending about your relationship, tsukki~” akiteru nudges him, and you chuckle at your boyfriend’s helpless look on his face, as if telling you this is what i dealt with during my childhood. but the holiday celebration with his family went super smooth!! his mom cooked amazing homemade dishes, and tsukki was actually smiling and laughing along the poor jokes akiteru made, it was so endearing to watch. you asked to help with the clean up as tsukki and his brother play volleyball outside in the cold.

“i’m so glad he has you,” his mom comforts you, and you nod your head in thanks while you wipe the plates clean. “i’ve never seen him so… cheerful like this, you know?” what a heartwarming thing to say :(( and yet you thought he was just finally letting loose because he’s at home!! his mom turns in early that eve of christmas, and his brother goes out to have a nightly beer sesh with his hometown friends before christmas morning tomorrow. you and tsukki are left alone in his room as you marvel at the many dinosaur related merch, posters, and even stuffies he has in his childhood room!! “don’t say it,” he threatens you lightly, even though you’ve been well-aware of his fascination for the species. a little tired from the trip earlier and ngl you’re both full from the food, you lay down on the floor, pillows supporting your sleepy heads as tsukki shares the other side of his earphones. you listen to calming, lofi music for the night and at some point, he finds your fingers in his again. “thank you for having me, tsukki,” you whisper with a yawn, remembering the night days ago where you cried into his shoulder about missing your own family during this season. tsukki doesn’t respond as he hears your light snoring, and instead turns his body towards you as he caresses the side of your face, smiling at the beauty before him. “you’re always welcome here, dummy. you’ll always have me.”

bokuto koutarou

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ oof!! so many holiday parties!! gift giving exchanges!! dancing and singing, drinking and having the time of your lives! of course, bokuto asks first and foremost if you’re okay going to all of these celebrations with him as he has gathered a lot of friends from different majors, clubs, and such. you didn’t expect to come with him to all of them, tbh, but since he seems so excited to bring you along you found yourself nodding along! OOPS, what a wild ride it was to meet friends you didn’t even know he had. first, bokuto asked you to help him find some gifts for the exchange parties and you comply— you love thinking up presents for diff kinds of people! “would akaashi want this?” he points at a set of compression socks for sports “you’d want that more, bo” “oh oh!! how about this for kuroo?!” he leads you to the beauty section, hairspray littering the aisle “i think that’s more of an insult than a gift…” he’ll pout at his failure to think of the best gifts for his friends, but you cling to him with your linked arms and tell him not to worry— you kinda figured the kind of people his best friends are, so you suggest things off the bat: film roll for akaashi the photography minor, a mug with a pun-ny chem joke for kuroo, and a new case for kenma’s switch lite!! “wah! you know them better than i do,” he exclaims, eyes shining in excitement as you bring the gifts and other extra stuff to his apartment to help him wrap them. with this, bokuto came up with an idea to wrap the presents in the most creative way possible, and you just stare at him in awe as he tries to disguise the mug as.. a gingerbread man?? you don’t even know how he did it! as you tape up the finishing touches with the others, you eye a small gift wrapped box on the island counter along with a card next to it, all glittery and a name scribbled on top that you can’t make out where you were seated.

“hey, bo, who’s that for?” you point at the suspecting box, and almost immediately bokuto body slams you on the ground, obstructing your view of the gift. “bokuto i can’t breathe—” you wheeze, laughing at the way he scrambles to get up from the position but his feet slips against the unused wrapping paper on the floor. “sorry, sorry i just— STOP LOOKING” he pleads, caging you with his arms either side your figure. the both of you pause, realizing the predicament you’re in until bokuto unleashes a sly smirk, eyes pointed at you with a mischievous glint. you know that look, so you start wiggling out of his way until he plops down on you again (mind you, he’s MANY inches taller than you and his built...whew, but that’s part of the problem right now!!) and blows raspberries on your neck, the audacity!! “tell me,” he whispers against your ear after a while, voice suddenly low in tone and your senses perk up. “have you been naughty or nice recently?” he continues hoarsely, and it doesn’t take long until you burst out laughing at his attempt of being flirty right now. he finally releases you, feigns hurt from your reaction but he knows what a goofball he is.

anyway, you put all the gifts in the car and head to the many parties he was invited to!! and honestly, you enjoyed yourself albeit it got really tiring to show up with much enthusiasm compared to the last. but bokuto on the other hand never runs out of energy for some reason!! he’s still winning the games, singing his heart out with his friends, and trying all the foods in the potluck, even shamelessly!! feeding you too! it’s embarrassing >< but in a way your heart swells with the thought of bokuto being very openly proud of his relationship with you, and how his friends seem to like you as well! pictures were taken, holiday spirits and gifts were exchanged and finally, he’s free for the night <3 you’ve been waiting for the right moment to give him your personal gift to your boyf (it’s an edited picture of the two of you at one of his winning games!! you can’t draw for sht but you are the best at adding lil stickers and cute petnames all around the photo hehe) you had it inserted in a picture frame too so the gift was relatively medium sized and rectangular. when you crash at his place, you ready yourself to give it to him, having second thoughts with how corny it must seem like… as you psych yourself up on the couch, you feel his arms suddenly wrap themselves around you as he starts peppering your neck with lazy kisses. your chest tightens, eyes closed at the warmth of his lips on your skin but— you can’t get distracted!! “bo, i have something for you—” “i saved the best gift for last—” o, you say it at the same time and so you look at each other with blank stares, and then laugh at your awkwardness!!

he lets you go first, your nerves slowly dissipating at the excited gleam in his irises, he’s so cute!! as he unwraps it, he hitches a breath, looks at you then the picture and you again and— let’s say your face was just full on bokuto territory only ;-) as much as you were enjoying his attention all on you, his gift wasn’t opened yet!! bokuto went from confident to shy mode again, hiding his face with only one eye peeking out to watch you…. for some reason, since it was a tiny box you blurted out, “don’t tell me it’s a ring, bo.” as a joke but bokuto suddenly freezes at your words. and you had to stop unboxing to make sure he doesn’t go all pale on you, but also??? was he really???? GOING TO???-- “DID YOU WANT ME TO GET YOU A RING?? I CAN RETURN THE EARRINGS TODAY, I THINK I STILL HAVE THE RECEIPT—” “bo, it’s okay!!! omg no T_T” you take his hands off his face to look at him lovingly, a kiss on his pouty lips as you reassure him his presence is all that you can ever want, but whatever it was he gave you, you’ll cherish just the same!! so finally, once you take the lid off the box you see an adorable pair of owl earrings!! it’s so cute and it reminds you of him and thats probably why he got that for you :’)))) “i also wrote you a letter but please read it when i’m asleep or something…” aww shy bokuto!! >< you never thought you’d see the day :’)

kuroo tetsurou

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ man.. i just know this guy wouldn’t want to let leave… the bed… with him… on christmas day. imagine something like having to stay until he can for his duties at work which ended up til late christmas eve :( you were looking forward to spending time with him back at his hometown since you don’t necessarily celebrate the specific holiday, but being with tetsurou for almost a year now and knowing he does— you wanted it to be special and memorable for him! he felt really bad making you stay at his apartment until he finishes up work, really zooming through all the documents and stuff he needed to complete just so he can spend at least a few hours of christmas eve with you. when he got home, his heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you falling asleep on the couch, right next to the lit up christmas tree you two decorated a week ago (thats how busy he has been! you opted to fix the tree yourself, but tetsu insisted on doing it together since it’s your first holiday with him!). your favorite blanket was wrapped around you but your feet were dangling midway with no socks on and he just >:( had to carry you to bed and tuck you in— all of you!!

he changes to a sweater and pjs before readying himself to carry you against his chest. his own body is exhausted from working non-stop, but he doesn’t let it get to him as he passes by the hallway and plops you gently on your side of the bed. you stir groggily, eyes refusing to open but you notice your surroundings are different. the room is dimly lit but the figure walking around the place isn’t amiss; with his hair sticking up and his wide shoulders, you know it’s your tired boyfriend finally home for the holidays. you smile, still sleep-induced but you try to reach over for him. “tetsu… come to bed, please,” you mumble but he hears you, and his back is against you but he smiles at your half-awake tone. “i’ll be right there,” he lets you know softly, and true to his word you feel the dip in the mattress with his warmth slowly exuding onto your own body, his hands easily finding themselves over you. you wiggle into his grasp, head against his chest and hands holding onto his waist. he feels warm, he feels like home, and you press a kiss where his neck meets his collarbones. “mm, merry christm…” you mutter, losing consciousness but he doesn’t mind. he lets you snore your way into dreamland, watching your eyelashes tickle the surface of your skin, lips partly open as you breathe in and out. suddenly, his tense muscles relax with your presence oh so close to you, and he sleeps soundly after a few minutes of admiring your face.

as the sunlight filters thru the windows, kuroo wakes up first but knowing it’s his day off (finally), he relaxes into the bed and just observes the tiny details of your face, same as the night before but with some of the brightly shining rays of the sun hitting the right spots— you’re breathtaking to him. he feels you stir in his embrace so he pretends to snore because he knows you like to get up as soon as you feel awake. “tetsu…” you mumble, popping out your head from his grasp to peer your eyes at him pretending to not hear you. “you’re a lousy liar, i know you’re up,” you tell him, rubbing your nose against him as a form of an eskimo kiss. it takes so much out of his restraint to bite his lip in pure love for you, so he gives in and kisses you on the lips.

you are taken aback for a split second until you comply to his request, and you spend your first christmas morning with him in bed just like that <3 he still asks if you guys can spend the whole day just tangled into each other’s embrace but you lecture him playfully, knowing that he had a christmas party to attend to in the afternoon with his closest friends (bokuto, akaashi, kenma, and others) and you have a lovely dinner planned in the evening. he wiggles his eyebrows, fingertips tracing the exposed skin on your chest, “what if we skip all of that and i just have you for dinner instead?” “KUROO TETSUROU IT IS TOO EARLY FOR YOU TO SAY THAT RIGHT NOW—” you swear to god, it is his teasing and malicious intent that will kill you one day. but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed, and yet kuroo complies with your light nagging, getting up and getting ready for the day. you’re happy that he finally has the day off, and being with his friends during the party truly lightened up his mood. afterwards, he then asks where you got a reservation during the busiest time of the year, and you just winked at him and zipped your mouth.

since you ate a bit at the party, you knew you had some time to finish prepping the food you had prepared the night before, it all just needed to bake or be cooked on the pan. and bec of his exhaustion last night, he didn’t even open the fridge at all so there were zero suspicious at your surprise dinner. urging him to take a long, hot bath, he drags you with him. “you seriously want me to take a bath by myself?” he says in shock horror, and normally you would join him hah but you tell him that your parents are calling, just wanting to say hello. a little sad, kuroo nods in understanding and so he goes about his way while you cook the food with haste. he likes to take his time in there but you know you won’t finish beforehand, so once he’s out of the bathroom, you immediately go right in front of him to hide the view of the kitchen. you played yourself, seeing kuroo only in his bathrobe with his chest exposed, you slap him right at the center to ignore the sensation in the pit of your stomach. “what?? what’d i do???” “existing right in front of me like that!!” kuroo laughs at your embarrassment, but kisses you on the forehead nonetheless. he ignores the obvious smell of pasta and chicken in the apartment, ignores the messy apron you forgot to take off because he thinks you really wanted to surprise him. so he goes to the room to change, thinking about how lucky he is to have you in his life. the rest of the night ends up with the both of you having a romantic dinner in the dining room, talking about everything you already know about each other—but it never feels repetitive. he always feels so renewed with you, falling in love every day.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu au #tsukishima kei imagines #tsukishima kei scenarios #kuroo tetsuro imagines #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #bokuto imagines #bokuto scenarios #tsukishima au #bokuto au #kuroo tetsuro au #haikyuu headcanons #tsukki:hc #bokuto:hc #kuroo:hc #hqf.jiae

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