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merakiui · 3 years

Note

Heey saw requests were open so I couldn't help but come check out and ask! Will you be okay if you do a Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc and Childe with a S/O who tries to took a hit for them from getting killed by an enemy?

Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, and Childe with an S/O who Shields Them From an Attack

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You dragged him along so that he could get some fresh air and help you with your commissions. Xiao would rather stay inside, but you seemed to want to spend time with him so it’s hard to object.

Xiao definitely tried to avoid going with you, but you had kissed his cheek and said it’s more fun if he accompanies you. His weak heart agreed right away.

So not only is he there to provide moral support and company, he’s also there to make sure you’re not going to do anything foolish.

He’s already defeated multiple enemies while you looked through crates for extra materials. If he were mortal, your carelessness probably would’ve shaved a few years off of his life.

He keeps telling you to pay attention and you say you are, but then you turn away and next thing you know an arrow comes whizzing past you.

Xiao’s picking up a damaged mask from the grassy ground, wiping the grime from it, when your shout alerts him. And before he knows it you’re tackling him to the ground.

He’s surprised and a little angry, snapping at you to be more careful. Your grip on his shirt tightens and he wonders what’s gotten into you.

When Xiao places his hand upon your back and finds the arrow sticking out of it, he freezes. You just...shielded him from an attack. And in the process you ended up getting hurt.

Warm blood coats his fingers and you’re doing all that you can to avoid bursting into tears in front of the stern adeptus. He sits up with you, wasting no time in swiftly defeating the archer hilichurl. His anger can be felt in the way he attacks mercilessly, showing no sign of letting up until the hilichurl has fallen to the ground.

Xiao can’t believe you, a mortal, would shield him, an immortal, from an arrow. He knows you love him, but to so readily take a hit for him—it’s surprising.

“You...” He wants to call you stupid, but you were only thinking of his safety. Instead he chooses to pacify you rather than berating you for something that has already happened. “You’re going to be okay. It doesn’t look that bad.”

He tends to your injuries to the best of his ability and then will bring you back to Wangshu for further inspection. Once the arrow is pulled out and your injury is cleaned and bandaged, tears finally spring from your eyes. It really, really hurts and you feel bad for making Xiao worry on your behalf.

He’s just relieved you’ll heal normally. But in the future he doesn’t want you to endanger yourself for his sake. After all, he’ll be perfectly fine if he takes a hit that would be fatal to most.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” you admit, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re an adeptus, but it would’ve hurt me more if I’d just let you get hit.”

Xiao sighs, taking your hand in his. “I guess it’s fine... Just don’t do it again, okay?” Deep inside, he’s truly touched that you would throw yourself in front of danger just to protect him, but he doesn’t want this to become a recurring thing for you.

🔶 Zhongli 🔶

You had taken Zhongli out to find some Cor Lapis and other ores you were in desperate need of. He suggested buying them from the locals, but he didn’t bring any Mora and you knew of a few abandoned mines where you could get them for free.

With that logic cemented into place, you and Zhongli headed off for the areas you had marked on your map.

It wasn’t a difficult trip; the two of you worked diligently in clearing any enemies that got in your way and eventually you had made it to the first cave.

Zhongli was reciting the history of Liyue caves and their monetary benefits while you climbed over rubble and debris from past accidents. You’d almost tripped once, but he had caught you out of reflex, seemingly unbothered with your clumsiness.

All was going well. You’d mined a lot of ores with Zhongli’s help and the two of you were about to move onto the next cave when the ground above seemed to shake. Briefly, you glanced up, wondering what could be causing such a disturbance.

“We should be careful. There might be a Ruin Hunter around,” you told him as you navigated through the winding tunnel. Zhongli nodded in agreement with that, easily stepping over fallen stones.

Before you knew what was happening, the entire cave was shaking as another loud explosion resonated from above. Debris from above trickled down like snow and you cowered for a moment, expecting a cave-in.

It was silent for a few minutes and you figured the threat must’ve passed. Zhongli waited for a moment as he listened to the silent, musty air.

Just as you breathed your sigh of relief, the ground shook ten times harder than before, and stones larger than the ores you had mined were raining down at once.

The initial shock was more than enough to have you running for the entrance, pulling a very confused Zhongli along. A stone larger than your foot comes falling, and it’s about to hit Zhongli on the head.

To avoid an accident, you shove him to the front and the rock hits you instead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t on the head, but it did hit your ankle hard.

You’re worried you’ve sprained it after you fall to the ground, more stones pelting you. The next thing you know, Zhongli picks you up in his arms and carries you out of the cave before it can collapse entirely on the both of you.

Concerned for your safety, Zhongli observes your injuries. You’re bruised and your ankle does look sprained. He asks if you can stand and when you try he frowns. It looks like you’re going to need to rest up for a few days.

Zhongli will help you the rest of the way back, occasionally stopping so you can give your legs a rest. He expresses his gratitude and is rather surprised that you would go out of your way to take the hits of many stones and rocks.

Despite being thankful, Zhongli hopes you won’t do this again because he doesn’t like to see you in pain. If you’re hurt, he feels hurt and that’s the last thing he wants.

🔥 Diluc 🔥

A group of slimes were hanging around the winery again and so Diluc went off to deal with the problem. He didn’t expect there to be so many, though.

You had tagged along just in case something like this were to happen. And even though Diluc is strong enough to handle so many enemies, these slimes just kept coming.

It was difficult to deal with all sorts of different slimes: Electro, Anemo, and even Cryo. Despite the fact that he didn’t want you to endanger yourself—he insisted he could handle it—you still did what you could to help.

Once you were certain all the slimes were defeated, Diluc sighed, leaning against his weapon to relax after so much fighting. His back was turned and he didn’t notice the large slime creeping up on him.

You jumped in just in time to prevent the slime from hurting him. It had been a quick reaction, one that you hadn’t thought through entirely.

The Cryo slime is freezing to the touch and as soon as it hits you an icy cold envelops you. You try to look strong in front of Diluc, but it’s just too much and you fall to your knees, shivering while the slime looms over you.

Diluc witnessed the entire thing when he first noticed you jump into action and he’s very surprised to find that last slime. He defeats it at once before dropping down to check your injuries.

You aren’t exactly wounded, but you are very cold. He’s ashamed at himself for not paying closer attention to his surroundings.

While Diluc is grateful that you protected him, he’s disappointed that you’d put yourself in harm’s way. You should’ve just let the slime hit him.

He sheds his coat and drapes it over you, using his own Pyro element to start a fire that’ll have you warm in no time.

“You didn’t have to do that. But...thank you. Next time don’t do anything reckless. You’ll hurt yourself,” he says while checking your body temperature.

“But I wanted to keep you safe, Diluc! You already defeated so many slimes. That last one could’ve done some serious damage.”

He’s touched that you’d worry about him, but he doesn’t want you to do something like that again. It’s upsetting that you got harmed as a result of him and he wants to make sure you’re truly okay.

You drag Diluc under his coat so that his body heat can warm you up faster. And even though he tries to get out of it, he doesn’t complain too much.

It’s hard to be upset at the person he loves so much, especially if they were the one who protected him.

💧 Childe 💧

You and Childe were picking through some ruins, searching for chests and other valuable materials. You were careful to avoid any enemies, as the last thing you wanted to do was fight a bunch of slimes and hilichurls.

Childe fought them in your place, eagerly defeating them while you remained on the sidelines.

Everything was going well until the two of you stumbled upon a Ruin Guard that was slumped over, docile and not yet awake. Childe looked over at you and then at the Ruin Guard and then back at you, grinning madly the entire time.

You could only face palm and shake your head, grabbing his arm and gesturing in another direction. You’d encountered enough monsters today; you definitely didn’t want to waste your energy on a rust bucket. But Childe, who had only been fighting small enemies up until this point, was itching for a bigger opponent.

So he rushed ahead despite your quiet protests. And you were stuck having to watch as he sparred with the Ruin Guard.

You would’ve left it up to him if you hadn’t noticed the second Ruin Guard awakening from its slumber, having been disturbed by the commotion.

One Ruin Guard was already an issue, but now you’ve got to deal with two. You can only sigh as you run in to defeat the second one, hoping it won’t take up too much of your time.

Missiles are everywhere; they’ve nearly destroyed the ground and have cracked the already eroded stone pathways. You’ve nearly fallen victim to them a few times now and if it weren’t for Childe’s quick thinking you would’ve been crushed by their mechanical feet.

The first Ruin Guard falls before the two of you in a heap of exhausted, overheated gears and Childe twirls his bow, a glint of madness of his gaze.

You would’ve called it a day if it weren’t for the other Guard aiming for him, missiles completely locked onto his form.

Without thinking, you jump into action, pushing Childe away before he can be hit. In the process, the missiles slam into the rock formation above you and it comes tumbling down in a dusty rumble.

Now it’s Childe’s turn to save you and he’s quick on his feet, pulling you away before you can be buried under heavy stone. The two of you tumble and you scrape your arms and legs in the fall, doing all that you can to shield your boyfriend before he seriously injures himself.

A particular sharp piece of rubble slices the length of your arm and while Childe recovers to finish off the Ruin Guard you clutch your injured arm to stop the blood flow.

Once the Ruin Guard is defeated, Childe goes over to you, bending down to get a look at your arm. “It’s definitely going to need some work,” he jokes, hoping to put a smile on your face. “Don’t worry. I’ll have it patched up in no time. You can count on it.”

And while he wraps it up, he thanks you for your help. Without it, he would’ve been the one with more injuries than you. And even though he doesn’t mind getting hurt in a battle he doesn’t want you to injure yourself as well. So next time you want to protect him, make sure you won’t hurt yourself in the process!

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wasabito · 3 years

Text

➽ corruption collab masterlist — hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting and @bummie ♥️

➽ note: definitely gonna come back and edit this a bit more because threesomes are hard as fuck, no pun intended lmao happy v-day everyone!

➽ word count: 3.2k

➽ cw/tags: polyamory + body worship + threesome + praise kink + public sex + choking + handjobs/fingering + vaginal sex + squirting + established relationship

➽ pairing: akaashi x fem!reader x bokuto

💿 1. nasty — ariana grande || 2. come on — jhene aiko

With Valentine's Day fast approaching, it becomes rather apparent that love and romance are in the air. Storefronts are decorated in bubblegum pinks and reds. Flower shops promote their special bouquet arrangements at discounted prices. Even your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop has fallen prey to the spirit of cupid as they announce their new strawberry shortcake dessert and heart-shaped scones.

In lieu of staying home for the third night this week, your boyfriends escort you to dinner at an upscale restaurant in the city. They treat you to a five-course meal and a bottle of wine even pricier than the dinner itself. One would think, after three years of dating, you would no longer be caught unawares by their spontaneity. And yet, here they are, once again pulling the rug from underneath your four-inch heels.

Your gaze flickers from Akaashi's tranquil smile to Bokuto's wide grin.

Adjusting the napkin in your lap, you open your mouth to speak, then pause as the right words fail it come. Brain short-circuiting instead, you let out a confused, "Huh?!"

"We're taking you to Italy!" Bokuto repeats, about ready to hop out of his seat with excitement. He looks to Akaashi, "Three nights in Venice, right 'Kaashi?"

"Yes, we decided on Venice after you told us you'd always wanted to visit. Remember Koutarou's birthday last year?"

"But that was like months ago! Did you two honestly hold onto that drunk little confession this entire time?"

"Of course."

"Yup!!"

It's in moments like these when you are reminded of their history together, first as teammates playing volleyball, and eventually close friends. Not much longer after that, you'd met and fallen for Akaashi, then Bokuto, and thus began the relationship of today. While you find it a little ridiculous, it seems neither of them has any qualms about this trip.

After all, you are their lovely girlfriend. Why wouldn't they want to make your wishes come true?

Bokuto claps his hands, eyes sparkling. "Everything's already planned out, babe, so don't worry your pretty little head, okay?"

You can't argue with that. Reaching over, you take Bokuto's hand in your right and Akaashi's in your left. "Alright, since you two went to all this trouble for me, I guess I'll just sit back and enjoy it."

♥️

Venice is just as beautiful as you imagined.

It looks as if it's floating upon blue-green waters with lots of sunshine, beautiful architecture, and a vibrancy that makes it feel like the city has a life of its own. You are grateful you didn't come by yourself. There is no way you would've enjoyed it without Akaashi and Bokuto at your side.

"We're about a ten-minute walk from Piazza San Marco," Akaashi says as he taps his glasses. His sharp gaze is locked on the map in his hands, likely committing most landmarks and details to memory. "Would you like to check it out?"

"Yeah! Let's do it."

"Off we go, go, go!"

Thus, a majority of your first day in Venice is spent sightseeing.

The three of you take a gondola ride through Canale Grande, then have a peek into the Gallerie Dell'Accademia at Akaashi's insistence, though naturally, you wouldn't have come all the way to Italy and not visited at least one art museum. Afterward, the three of you go to the Le Mercerie shopping district and buy gifts for your friends before finally taking a pit stop for the most delicious gelato in the city.

The sunsets sooner than expected, casting the entire block in deep red hues. Bokuto's mood is greatly influenced by it, and the jetlag certainly doesn't help. He props himself against you, nuzzling you in a way that says he's itching for a kiss.

"Tired, Kou?"

Bokuto hums. "A little... More hungry than anything."

He leans in and pecks your lips with a sated smile. "Maybe I should eat you. I mean, how is it my girl's so damn cute? Not fair, I can't resist."

You snort at Bo's silliness but can't help shivering a little at the tiny implication of his words. He always did like to lay his head on your thighs, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites where he could.

So, the thought of him eating you out made you squeeze your thighs together.

Akaashi approaches with your frozen treats held between his long fingers; having overheard Bokuto earlier, he tucks his wallet back into his pocket.

"We'll get some dinner after we drop off these shopping bags. How does that sound?"

You eagerly take your gelato from him with a smile.

"Sounds like a plan."

Akaashi nods, standing at your other side, close enough to brush elbows though not as close as Bokuto, who was nearly hovering.

The three of you are in one of the narrow, maze-like streetways, basking in the warm, early evening glow. The sweet taste of fruit and cream on your tongue fills you with so much contentment, especially while being with your favorite people. You aren't sure if anything could top the way you currently felt, and the trip has just barely started.

Upon arriving at your temporary place of residence, a quaint little villa on the waterfront just along the shore of Punta Sabbioni Beach, Bokuto immediately kicks off his sandals, dumps the bags, and promptly falls asleep on the couch.

"It's so weird seeing Kou like this." You remark. "On any normal day, he's brimming with almost too much energy, but now he's all tired."

"Well, he did stay up an entire twelve hours on the plane. It was only a matter of time before fatigue caught up to him." Akaashi picks up Bokuto's shoes with practiced ease and places them by the others.

There is a fond smile running along the edges of his mouth as he tucks a throw around the man's larger frame. You help him adjust a spare pillow under Bo's head and then set off to explore the rest of the area.

It seemed like everything about Venice was taken straight out of a romance film, with its cobblestone paths, gothic cathedral architecture, crisp ocean waters, and authentic Italian cuisine. It is no wonder the city's known to draw hapless souls together in romance. Even you fell subject to it, and by each passing moment, you crave to be with your boyfriends.

You are standing at the balcony overlooking the beach, satisfied with your inspection of the villa when Akaashi comes to stand behind you. He holds onto the railings, caging you in his arms, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"He was right, you know." He murmurs. "You do look good enough to eat."

Blunt as ever. Apparently, something's never change.

Though one might say that Akaashi is as he's always been after high school and college, there is no denying his boost in confidence. After all, he had landed not one but two rather attractive partners.

He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, before latching onto your neck.

The sun's scenic view on the horizon, reflecting upon the beach sands of gold and shimmering orange waves, makes for an excellent backdrop.

You turn to face Akaashi and pull him into a heated kiss. His lips convey a sense of devotion to you, and with each press of them against yours, you can feel just how bad he's yearning for more.

"Kei," you whisper. "Let's go inside."

In a moment, Akaashi whisks you off your feet quite similar to how Bokuto would, though you both don't even make it to the bedroom.

Your other partner had sat up on the sofa, hair flat on one side, scrubbing his eyelids.

"Guys, I'm freaking starving!" Bokuto groans. "Let's get some food or something."

He doesn't even notice how you and Akaashi are breathing heavy or how your clothes are sporting wrinkles that were not previously there. Regardless, Akaashi has food delivered while you went ahead to shower the day's journey away. There are still two days left. You'd get your chance with them at some point.

♥️

Sadly, the entirety of day two is spent indoors. Heavy sheets of rain continue to fall, muddying the shoreline. The three of you huddle on the sofa wrapped in blankets with subtitled movies playing in the background.

Even though you would've much rather been out exploring in the city, just sharing in your boyfriend's warmth would suffice for now. Akaashi hands you a steaming cup of something rich in both color and smell.

"What's this?"

"Just espresso." He takes the empty seat beside you.

You savor the taste while leaning against his shoulder. "Mm, nice."

Bokuto keeps his head on your lap, loving how you thread your fingers into his hair.

It is a tranquil kind of peace that soon lulls you to sleep.

Later, when you finally wake up, it's dark, and you're alone. A blanket had been tucked around your shoulders to shield you from the sudden chill. At some point, the television had been shut off along with every light in the room. You might've been a little scared if not for the voices coming from the second floor. Slowly, you creep up the winding staircase, dragging along the blanket around your shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto chuckles. "You're finally up!"

His hair is down, wet from his shower, and he holds a thin towel together around his waist. In his hand is a cellphone, and he doesn't hesitate to shove the screen into your face. "Say hi, Tetsu!"

"Hi Y/N, how's it going?"

You blink slowly, still trying to wake yourself up.

"Kuroo, hey… I'm well. How are you?"

"Great, just about to head out for a late lunch. I hear it's almost ten pm over there."

"Yeah, it's an eight-hour time difference."

You and Kuroo continue to chat while Bokuto towels off his hair and puts on clothes. Afterward, you let Bokuto resume his conversation and join Akaashi on the bed. The man had gone full editor-mode with his glasses propped up in his hair as he read through some work documents.

When you approach, he greets you with a kiss on the cheek. "You look well-rested."

"Is that your way of telling me I have drool on my cheek, Keiji?"

He cracks a tiny smile, eyes taking in your features, then he pokes your cheek with his index finger. "Perhaps."

You scrub the corners of your mouth with your sleeve and drape yourself over Akaashi, work be damned. This was supposed to be a special weekend for relaxing.

"I really wanted to go to the beach today." You pout.

Akaashi interlocks his fingers with yours. "Maybe we still can. It stopped raining a few hours ago."

"Really?!"

You hop off the bed and head for the window. He's right, the rain had long stopped, and the beach lay bare, lit by only the moonlight.

Maybe a short walk to the beach would do you some good.

♥️

The grains of sand feel cold against your feet without the sun to beat down on them, but you don't complain. The air is humid enough on its own that you forgo wearing actual clothes and instead wear a swimsuit along with Bokuto's old Fukurōdani windbreaker.

You walk along the shore, toes digging into the sand, letting the ocean waves lap at your feet to wash them clean again.

At first, it's so eerily quiet without a soul around except you, but even that doesn't last long. You hear Bokuto's voice bellow into the night as he jogs towards you in nothing but swim trunks. Behind him, Akaashi trails slowly after with a blanket in hand.

"We thought you might want some company." He says and spreads the cover on the sand several feet away from the water, content with just watching.

Bokuto grabs your hand and you go running to the water with him, but a second later, you both come sprinting back.

"It's freezing!"

"S-So co-co-cold!"

You collapse on top of him, fingers splayed across his bare chest. However, when you try to sit up, Bokuto has other plans. He keeps you pressed to his chest with both arms around your waist.

"Let me keep you warm, baby!"

You know he meant it in the most innocent way, but you can't help but think other thoughts. Your nerves fray at the image that blooms in your head and spreads like wildfire.

And as Akaashi strokes your back, you know he's probably read your mind.

It's the way your eyes seem to glitter with want that gives it away. Akaashi has always been rather observant, and so your silent cues are something he's always been privy to.

His nimble fingers curve around the nape of your neck, and he tilts his head to capture your lips in a kiss. This one is unlike the one from yesterday. There is no rush, no desire to quicken his haste; instead, he savors the taste of you like it's something to be thoroughly enjoyed.

Underneath you, Bokuto stirs, growing aroused at the sight of his two lovers' kiss. He can't decide whether he wants to join in or sit back and watch. But his large hand comes down to stroke your ass, resulting in a moan you breathe directly into Akaashi's mouth.

"You're not usually so forthcoming, Keiji," you whisper against his lips. "Eager, are we?"

Akaashi pulls away just enough to pepper your face in feathery kisses. "Can you blame me? When I have such a lovely girlfriend here."

As if confirming his words, he slips a hand under your jacket and cups your breast. The pads of his thumb brush along the seams of your bathing suit, caressing your nipple.

"Kou, let's show Y/N just how much we love her, yes?"

Bokuto didn't need to be told twice. He had been in entranced by you and Akaashi, completely taken by the way your lips danced upon one another. But now, he wanted more than anything to touch you, kiss you, hold you.

Bokuto cradles you in his lap, propping your legs open with his knees so Akaashi can kneel in front of you. It didn't take much for him to relieve you of your clothing, namely your swimming bottoms. But the second the air hits your bare cunt, you feel tense.

You aren't sure what it was, but the atmosphere is different. Both Akaashi and Bokuto are so focused on you, it feels like you're under a spotlight.

"You're so pretty, so beautiful," Bokuto says while squeezing your thighs. His warm breath tickles your ear as he presses his nose into your neck. Next, his lips follow suit. "Wanna fuck you, so bad baby. You'd like that, right?"

His words earn him a chuckle from Akaashi, who merely licks two of his fingers, wetting them and sliding into you. Your mouth parts, shaky breaths barely expelled from your lungs. You're hyper-aware of the fact that you're literally being fingered on a beach in the middle of the night, and you can't bring yourself to care. It feels good to be pampered by the two men you love.

For every moan, Akaashi gives you double for your efforts, thrusting his fingers just right, curving them in such a way that has your back arching off Bokuto, who has also taken to fondling your nipples. With every roll of his hips, you feel his cock against your ass, and it pushes you further into Akaashi's fingers.

Your impending orgasm sweeps by so close and yet so far away. All you can do is rock yourself faster.

"Please," you whimper. "W-Wanna come."

Akaashi crooks his fingers, pressing into the perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching in intervals you have no control over until his hand is coated with your wet, slick juices that keep coming the more you squirt all over him.

"She's so wet 'Kaashi. Look at our pretty girl."

Akaashi places a chaste kiss on your forehead with a smile.

"She's doing well, so far. Let's see if she can keep going."

Bokuto shimmies his shorts off enough to free his hard cock. He had been uncharacteristically patient until now, but that was soon to change as he lines himself up with your cunt, teasing you with just the tip.

Your whining is unintelligible, but both men understand you more or less.

"Give the pretty girl what she wants," Akaashi says. He strokes his own hard-on at the sight of Bokuto's pushing past your wet folds. "I know she can take more than that."

Bokuto has always been girthy, and it takes you more than a few seconds to adjust to his size, but when you finally do, it feels like heaven.

The position you're in gives Bokuto all the power to thrust into you like a ragdoll. But it's only when you make eye contact with Akaashi that you realize that it's, in fact, the other way around for him in particular. From where he sits, stroking his cock with flushed cheeks and choked moans, you see just how much control you have over him.

"Kiss me." You moan.

Akaashi doesn't let you repeat yourself. He kisses you long and hard even as you grip his throat with one hand and his hair with the other. He kisses you until his lips are red and bruised.

"Good boy. Both of y-you."

Bokuto groans loudly. "Say it again. Keep saying it!"

"Y-You're both so good. I-" your hips stutter against Akaashi's fingers that are rubbing circles into your clit. "Good, so good-"

That's all it takes to take Bokuto over the edge, blowing his load. "Perfect, so fucking perfect."

You can feel another orgasm swelling up inside your belly. You try to tell them but can't, too overcome by the feeling of your body tingling with desire. It's too much, overwhelmingly so; your vision blurs with unshed tears as Bokuto continues to pound into sopping pussy. Pleasure floods every fiber of your being until you're limp and every nerve in your body is set alight.

Bokuto slips out of you easily, a string of his semen following.

You can only look on in a drowsy haze as Bokuto leans over and kisses you and then Akaashi, working him over with a tight fist.

♥️

The following morning, you’re the first to wake, but only because there’s a limb jammed into your back and a heavy weight on your chest. It takes you a moment to realize, but it’s Bokuto’s elbow poking you and Akaashi’s head resting on you.

All three of you are a tangle of limbs in bed, but you aren’t sure how you’d gotten there.

“G’mornin’” Bokuto breathes. His lips caress the column of your neck.

“Morning.”

You shift into a more comfortable position. Though doing so presses Akaashi’s morning wood against your thigh.

“Keiji, you awake yet?”

“Mmm barely.” Akaashi looks up at you through his lashes, then smiles and nuzzles closer into your chest.

Bokuto, content with being your big spoon, reaches over to touch Akaashi, hands cupping his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“That’s true, should we do something special.”

Thinking about the previous night, you feel desire stirring in your gut. “Could we just... do it again?”

Both men look to each other then back at you, sporting matching smiles.

“Why not?”

#bokuaka x reader #bokuto x reader #koutarou bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut

787 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 3 years

Text

a night less cold

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~7.8k

beta’ed: @hawnks

happy birthday pro hero hawks! who’s ready for a night of dazzling and drinking?

you aren’t.

warnings: soft hawks, sick fic, hurt/comfort, a wittle angst, horny shit, fucking while sick, a wittle daddy kink

...

a/n: happy birthday kei 🎉!!! happy to celebrate with a classic little slice of hurt/comfort and horniness <3 i’ve never done a true sick fic, so here’s a wittle bit of that as well!!!

thank you for reading and enjoying this year, and being here!! i’m endlessly grateful and just :’^) full this day. enjoy loves 💕

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Keigo’s birthday was, historically, quite the spectacle.

It was tradition that his once-budding, now-thriving agency would host a massive, grand party at a local venue, either an upscale club or dimly-lit, luxury hotel. Keigo would splurge his personal funds on the best music, food, and drinks that money could buy. There were popular DJs, the best and greasiest foods he could bring in, not to mention an open bar on every floor of the festivities.

It was quite a press event as well. Paparazzi and reporters would line up outside of the venue for a few quick words with heroes and socialites as they spanned the red carpet, colored like the vibrancy of his wings.

The event thereafter was debaucherous, obviously, according to Keigo, and quite a media circus as well.

And this year, you were going as his partner and date, also obviously.

The year prior, you and Keigo had still been relatively secretive about your relationship, but as you’d become quietly public in the recent months, Keigo was itching to show you off.

...

December 27th, you awoke in Keigo’s massive, soft bed to his soft humming and low coos, one of his more birdish qualities. The floating sound echoed from his chest to your ear that laid snug against it as he ran his fingers slowly around the shell of your ear.

As you cracked your eyes open, you immediately noted that you felt a bit... off. There was a sticky dryness in your throat that definitely hadn’t been there when you laid down the night before, at least not as strongly.

You opted to ignore it, tugging Keigo closer by the small of his back and kissing his naked collarbones.

“Mornin’” You yawned, blinking sleep from your eyes. “What time is it?”

Keigo’s humming seized as his hand moved to run slowly up and down the back of your neck, “Early. Get some more rest.”

Shaking your head, you propped your head on your folded arms, regarding Keigo with a quiet reverence.

He was too pretty, it stunned you, most of the time. Even with a mop of slept-on blonde waves and the blushed lines and creases of the sheets on his cheeks, he still looked like some gracious god carved him from amber and marble. With the sheets pooling at his waist and a smirk growing on his lips, you couldn’t help smile back.

“You’re staring,” Keigo grinned without a hint of ire. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute,” Heat pooled in your chest. “Happy early birthday, tailfeathers.”

“Why, thank you,” He lit up, wings puffing behind him as he tugged you closer by the waist. “I’m very excited for you to come tonight, you know. I get to show off my cute little dove to the prying eyes of the world.”

“Showing me off? I’m flattered,” You mused, leaning into his heat. “I’m excited too.”

Keigo took a quick pause before tilting your chin up with a single finger, “Are you sure you’re okay to go tonight?”

“Of course!” You beamed, nuzzling into his neck and ignoring any odd aches in your sleepy muscles. “Why wouldn’t I be? Getting cold feet, birdy?”

He rubbed up your spine, dropping a kiss onto your crown, “You were coughing a bit last night, dove.”

That was news to you. It explained your gummy vocal chords.

“Dry air,” It had to be, right? “Just gave me a dry throat.”

Keigo didn’t look fully convinced in the sheets, feathers ruffled and forehead furrowed.

It was easy to smooth it away with a quick pounce, straddling his hips and kissing him breathless. A bit of an early birthday treat, you supposed, as you nipped and sucked down Keigo’s neck, the little jerks of his hips and swallowed groans only spurred you lower, down to his naked collarbones, grinding down on the hardening bulge in his boxers briefs—

Until your throat began to sting a bit too much for comfort.

You turned your head away, covering your mouth with the back of your hand and clearing your throat.

“Dry air?” Keigo asked with a lopsided grin, hands moving from their wide splay on your inner thighs to around your ribs, coaxing you back into the sheets.

“Feels like it.”

You tried to brush off the feeling, though it lingered as the two of you readied for the day.

A shower was had, steam filling the bathroom as you both sleepily washed each other. It was early enough to indulge in some chaste (and not-so chaste) kisses between washing each other in the spray.

Water poured down from the ceiling-mounted shower head, slicking the two of you with heat. Your head laid against Keigo’s chest as he washed your back, gently swaying your bodies with the tips of his wings against the dewy walls of the shower.

Resting against his chest was a comfort, so early. The day was packed, and you both knew it. A bit of respite before the chaos was much needed and incredibly welcomed.

“Are you sure you need to go to work?” Keigo whined, the pads of his fingers dipping into any tension in your lower back. “I’d love to keep my little chickadee by my side all day.”

You sighed, “You know I would, but I’ve got that report due today and I think my boss will kill me if I don’t get it in on time.”

Keigo huffed, giving your ass cheek a little pinch. It worked to his favor as you yelped, falling against him. You felt him smirk against your wet hair.

“You could always just quit--” Keigo reminded you, a long-standing offer once more put directly on the metaphorical table.

...

It had become quite obvious that Keigo really loved taking care of you. It helped him in unspeakable ways that he had trouble describing to himself, let alone you. As much as he was considered lazy and brash by his colleagues, regarded as too much and too blunt, often to the point of detriment, he was nothing if not goal-oriented.

He just wanted to rest.

Keigo would give the world to just laze around, preferably and hopefully with you, as much as he could while still being a hero. Trouble was, he wasn’t built for loafing about. His years at the Commission truly altered the way his mind and body ran, permanently. It wasn’t something he was ever very explicit about with you, or himself for that matter. All of the brutal training— disgustingly long days with late nights and early mornings, harsh tests or endurance and stamina, and the pushing and pushing of his speed had a great side effect.

He couldn’t rest most of the time.

His body wouldn’t, couldn’t, as with his mind. Whether he was at home lounging or taking a break at his agency, he was always on guard, mentally sprinting for the next moment, and often without cause. It kept him constantly poised, tense, and on edge.

But when you came into his life, that slowly began to change.

It didn’t happen too early in your relationship, the beginning was slow after all. Lots of dancing around each other's feelings, banter and flirting which both of you equally were equally enraptured by the other, but assumed it was all baseless.

It hardly was.

Slowly as you too became closer, sharing space and nights twisted in the sheets together, early morning cups of coffee and little experiences Keigo never imagined he’d have with another person, something started to shift.

When you started to settle in his life, Keigo had something to take care of and god, did it calm him. His need to be constantly moving, doing something, was still there, but when you were settled in his arms, he had something to do— many things to do.

He had the privilege of taking care of you.

You were far more than an outlet for his energy, that would be a complete reduction of your relationship and you, but it was one of the many things Keigo was so grateful to you for.

...

You sighed wistfully, “Maybe someday, love. For now, I gotta get out of here, I don’t want to be late. And neither should you.”

“Aw, babe,” Keigo pouted, grabbing your ass with two hands, massaging at the residual suds in time with your budding whines and gasps. “Not even time for a quickie?”

“Later,” You slapped his hands away playfully. “Have you ever heard of ‘birthday sex’, love? You’ll be getting plenty of it.”

Keigo gave you one of his signature golden grins, cupping your jaw for a few more desperate kisses before you both exited the shower.

He helped you towel off, starting from your ankles to your thighs, lips trailing with promises of the coming day. They stretched up to your ribs, little nips placed on the underside of your breasts before he dried them. You watched his wings ripple and shift with each brush of his lips, obviously getting off on the treatment as much as you were.

Fuck, did you adore him with your whole heart.

As you both dressed for the day, Keigo checked in, ever attentive.

“I’ll pick you up at your place this evening around eight, be dressed and ready for me, okay baby? We’ll go right to the venue.”

You nodded, reminded of the gorgeous (and pricey) outfit he’d treated you too, fitted just right and coordinating perfectly with his own outfit. It was the perfect match, absolutely ideal to show yourselves as the pair you were.

“Perfect, I’ll be ready, done up and waiting,” You glowed with the thought, ignoring the twinge of pain, deep in your muscles.

Nothing a cup of coffee and a few extra stolen kisses wouldn’t fix.

You dressed quickly, rushing off to the subway as Keigo took off from the wide balcony of his apartment to prepare for his own day of preparations for the celebration.

The party would begin that night and wear into his birthday, midnight sounding would mean a round of shots for anyone who could still stand and a jeering of cheers for the beloved number two hero.

Meanwhile, you and your still-dry throat scampered off to work.

...

It proved to not just be a dry throat.

As you sat down at your desk to begin your shift, a little twine of dread had wormed its way into your ribs as an odd exhaustion settled in your bones.

As your shift began, a myriad of symptoms arose.

The air felt cold, too cold for what you were used to at your office. The cardigan your kept handy hardly did anything to keep out the unnatural chill. You took note of it with a few quick glances at your coworkers, all looking perfectly temperate in blouses and dress shirts.

The knowledge did nothing to soothe your chattering teeth.

Next came the headache, a pounding behind your eyes as snot began to ooze from your nose, a little pile of tissues filled your small trash bin. In an act of desperation, you chugged your water bottle, hoping it would quell some of the stabbing pain that was stuffing your skull.

(It didn’t.)

After your vision went double looking at your monitors, you relented and laid your head on the flat of your desk.

The dry throat you’d had worsened next, little coughs turning into hacking, dry wheezes that couldn’t be ignored in the din of your workplace. You covered them the best you could, trying to put on your best face as you slowly and painfully completed your due report.

All the same, someone must’ve spotted you and your poor state as you were sent home shortly after.

It wasn’t even noon yet.

You tried to rationalize on the subway ride home.

Admitting to being sick meant that the entire night would be beyond fucked. It was supposed to be a perfect night to let loose and be open with your love, not one spent curled in bed and aching.

You had time, you resolved, you could fix this.

Despite the fact that, even in your winter coat, you were fucking freezing, you convinced yourself that you weren’t sick.

You couldn’t be.

The ache in your muscles was from sleep deprivation and fatigue, obviously. The winter air was the source of your burning throat and eyes. Getting sick wasn’t an option.

As you journeyed home, you made a vow to simply sleep off your ills.

Nothing a little rest couldn’t fix.

You practically kicked the door to your apartment open, the sound hardly phasing you as your ears had begun to ring on and off on the ride home. You haphazardly dropped your purse to the floor of your small foyer, kicking off your shoes and padding to your kitchen.

You rapidly tried to think of some remedies while still hardly acknowledging any potential illness.

Your first thought was tea, something herbal with lemon and honey tossed in to soothe your throat. The kettle was set and bubbling as you gathered your supplies for a cup that was sure to soothe you in full.

The kettle clicked off, and you poured the steaming water into your cute mug (a gift from Keigo) with shaking hands, ignoring the trembling and hyper-focusing on making sure the stream was in the correct place.

Was pouring water always this hard?

You ignored the thought.

Rather, you wandered off to the bedroom, praying the heat from the mug in your hands, scalding, would warm your shivering body.

(As if you weren’t already burning up.)

You hardly had sense left in you by the time you crawled into the sheets, ruffling them as you attempted to burrow in any heat they could provide. The chill of the unused bedding seeped into you as your teeth chattered. You couldn’t be bothered to even change from your work clothes, the thought of any nakedness sending a new sharp shiver through you.

You just needed a quick nap.

As much as you wanted to sip away at your tea, your mind was going fuzzier by the minute. You sank into the mattress, steaming liquid (and the night’s coming events) forgotten as you fell into a fitful sleep.

...

Your dreams were sordid.

Vivid colors and loud sounds, hardly making any sense, but still, hardly fear into your cooking brain without reason. It blended into some horrid mix of sensations that had you tossing and turning in your sheets.

...

Tap, tap, tap.

...

The sound made your ears burn.

You groaned, shoving your pounding head into the pillow.

...

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

...

It had to be a sound from the inside of your skull, it had to be with how much it thundered, the pounding in your head going harder with each sharp knock.

...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

The sound was more insistent now, oscillating between your dream and reality.

The pressure in your forehead wasn’t helping.

...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap—

...

“What the fuck,” You audibly cursed, pushing yourself out of bed and awake as you could be. Holding yourself above the sheets, your swallowed back bile as your stomach rolled with new nausea.

Your gaze drifted to a red glow in the room, your alarm clock—

8:34 PM.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Tap, tap, tap, tap—

As fast as you could push your aching muscles to move, you slipped from the bed, whimpering at the chill of the cold floors and air. Shakily, you wrapped a throw blanket around your shoulders and padded to the living room.

Your stomach dropped as Keigo waited outside the balcony door.

His party was starting within the hour.

You hadn’t changed, showered, or done any sort of primping. Your outfit that was still hung on the back of your bedroom door, untouched and cold.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you slowly made your way to the door, trying to avoid Keigo’s gaze.

Your shaking hands undid the latch.

You swallowed back as many symptoms as you could, mind racing to figure how quickly you could get ready and if you even could. Makeup could be completed quickly, messily more than likely, but maybe Keigo could touch it up for you once you arrived. Your hair was a nightmare, but maybe you could tame it with a few extra minutes—

As the door opened, you stepped to the side, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. Maybe, Keigo wasn’t upset with you, maybe you could get your shit together in fifteen minutes—

Keigo’s hands went to his hips, wings tight to his back as a frown settled over his pretty plump lips.

“... You’re not ready?” Keigo asked, stating the obvious as you rubbed a hand over your face.

“N-no,” You cursed at your voice strained and crackled. “Give me a few minutes, I fell asleep.”

You prayed your excuse would be enough.

“... For how long, birdie? Are you okay?” Keigo hardly sounded upset, concern lacing his tone more than anything else.

You turned away from him, trudging back towards your bedroom. It was possible to get yourself ready quickly, it had to be you. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin his birthday with your tardiness (and sickness.) The fear spurred your steps to speed—

But Keigo was always faster.

He caught your wrist, tugging and spinning you back towards him. His hands, fingers wrapped in pretty gold rings, landed on your shoulders. His pretty ambers scanned you down, feathers ruffling as his frown deepened.

“How are you feeling?” Keigo asked, open-ended while his index and forefinger pressed to your pulse point, and his gaze flickered to the fat watch on his wrist.

“‘M fine, Kei’,” You murmured, weakly pushing his hand away. “Let me go get ready, I’ll just be a minute or two, promise.”

Keigo hadn’t looked angry since he’d stepped into your apartment, but his expression was souring in a new way. He pulled you close by the waist, lips finding your forehead.

You both stilled.

You knew you were fucked, with his lips so gentle and sweet against his forehead. He knew you were far worse off than you were letting on.

“Dove,” He murmured, voice low and kind. “How do you feel?”

“S-stop,” You pushed at his chest weakly. “I’m okay, I don’t want to fuck up tonight.”

That made Keigo act, the air practically shifting as he scooped you up in his arms, throwing your arms around his neck as he carried you to your bedroom. Setting you onto the sheets, you wrapped your blanket around you tighter, stomach rolling and head burning with its ache and new tears pricking your eyes.

Keigo kneeled, settled between your knees, cupping your cheeks and continuing to look you over.

“Do you have a thermometer? I think you’ve got a fever,” Keigo asked, tapped your chin towards him when you tried to look away from him.

Ignoring his question (you had to), you bit your lip, “I don’t want to ruin your night, Keigo, ‘m sorry.”

Your words slurred as little tears began to drip down your burning cheeks. You rubbed at them with your blanket-covered fists.

Honestly? You felt pretty pathetic. The fever rotting your skull was definitely affecting your judgment, but you didn’t have the sense to care or rationalize.

“Little bird,” Keigo softened, concern coloring his features. “You don’t need to worry about that. Can you tell me where your thermometer is? Maybe some pain medicine too?”

You shook your head, little tears turning fat as you lowered your head.

Keigo audibly winced, something you hardly caught with your sickness was swarming.

“Baby, don’t cry now, it’s alright,” Keigo assured you, pushing your hands away to take the task of wiping your tears away, the chill of the rings on his fingers almost burning. “Don’t worry about the party.”

“But, K-Keigo,” Your voice wobbled as your wrapped your hand around his wrist, over his watch. “You need to go, your party is soon.”

It was.

Your gazes both slide to the alarm clock nearby, the time steadily creeping towards the party’s official start time for the press. There were already scheduled interviews, you and Keigo were to be photographed and ogled at, him shining and dazzling in his signature, blunt way.

You were supposed to be on his arm—

Except, you were feverishly between his palms, crying steadily at the thought of missing the evening.

“Dovie, I need you to listen, please,” Keigo urged you, rubbing heat into your cheeks (even though they were already scalding). “You don’t need to worry about the party. That doesn’t matter. What does is that you’re obviously not feeling well—“

“I’m f-fine!”

It was meant to be a strong declaration, something that would convince Keigo that your feverish state didn’t impede your ability to attend, or at least impede his.

“You’re burning up,” Keigo reminded you.

Your tummy tossed and you shook your head.

He just kept talking, “I’m staying until I know you’re alright—”

That got you even more upset, shaking your head hard and fast even as your skull throbbed.

“No, n-no, no,” You pleaded. It was one thing for you to be unable to attend the highly-anticipated evening, it was entirely another for Keigo to be late to his own party, let alone fucking miss the event— “N-no, absolutely fucking not, ‘Kei. You can’t—”

You wept into his hands as hot tears trailed from the corners of your eyes to drip down your jaw.

...

Keigo’s heart hurt.

His hands shook, more-than-likely imperceptible to you as you sobbed in his hands, soon in his arms, as he sat on the edge of the bed to pull your burning body into his lap.

He tucked your face into the crook of his neck, playing with the hair at the back of your neck, unable to ignore how hot and clammy your skin remained, despite how you shivered and how your teeth clattered together.

You were sick and worked up, that much was for certain.

His wings flexed, the muscles bound-up and more tense than he would’ve liked. Worry laced his expression, his actions, as he tucked your sweaty and tear-matted hair behind your ear.

“It’s okay for you to miss tonight, there’ll be more times to do things like this together,” Keigo quietly assured you.

“But it’s your birthday—”

“That doesn’t matter to me more than you,” Keigo’s breath hitched with his own honest, full-chested admission. “It’s just a night, chickadee. I’m far more concerned with you.”

That unignorable itch and urge his chest flared, hot and bright as your fever and burning cheeks. He squeezed around your body, wishing he could absorb a bit of your hurt as his lips brushed over your temples.

“N-no,” You pulled away from him, shaking your head. “You c-cannot get sick. No.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow at your teary expression.

“I can do whatever I’d like,” He tilted his head sympathetically. “Which is why I’m staying—”

Your expression brightened in the same breath as you narrowed your gaze. Something about the heat swimming in your skull made things tilt and shift perspective.

Why is he being so insistent?

“Are...” You swallowed around your words, hands folding in your lap. “Are you trying to get out of going to your own event?”

...

That might’ve been too much.

Even your feverish mind could tell you were being stubborn to a fault. The thought of Keigo taking care of you while you were obviously not doing well warmed you in an actually good way.

And it seemed you were expressing that same brand of honesty that Keigo was so known for exercising.

You weren’t even sure how you deduced such a claim, but still, you’d ask, perhaps fanning the flame—

“... Looks like you caught me, little bird,” Keigo chuckled, something sad and low, chin tucking over the top of your head.

You remained silent for a moment, head ringing.

“... You don’t want to go tonight?” You asked, softer this time. The rings on his fingers clicked as he drew absent-minded shapes over your clothed thighs.

“It’s complicated,” Keigo admitted. “I’d much rather spend the night with you, here.”

You were both silent for a while.

The last of your tears ebbed away as the thoughts of the evening of dancing and drinking faded. The outfit in its garment bag was forgotten as your hands buried into Keigo’s hair.

His hands played with the hem of your shirt, a reminder that you’d never changed after work, too sick to even crawl from your business casual dressings.

You broke the silence, voice crackling with a suppressed cough.

“The thermometers under the sink in the bathroom.”

...

Keigo returned after nestling you in your sheets.

He had helped you from your work clothes, gently helping pull off and away your sweat-dampened blouse and bottoms. Gentle hands and nimble fingers slipped you into some sleep clothes, sweatpants and a long sleeve Keigo had left at yours some time ago. The slots that had been cut for his wings felt far too breezy, but the comfort of the garment being his far outweighed it.

You wrapped yourself in it as you burrowed into the sheets.

Keigo sat on the edge of the bed, tapping the tip of the thermometer against your lips, “Open, angel.”

Your lips barely cracked open, just enough for the device to be slotted on the top of your tongue. A few of Keigo’s feathers trailed him, bringing a lukewarm rag that he sat on your forehead.

You shivered and let out a whine, giving him a frown as the thermometer beeped.

101.8 °F.

“That doesn’t sound good,” You muttered, burying yourself deeper. “‘M sorry again.”

“No need to apologize,” Keigo assured you once more. Despite the practiced steadiness of his tone, his wings were half-unfurled, poised and tensed. Nervousness radiated from him in a way that he prayed you were too out of it to pick up. “I just want to make sure you’re alright, dove, promise.”

You gave him a shallow nod as Keigo portioned out a dose of cold medicine into the provided cup, scrutinizing the line on the cheap plastic.

“Why did you plan such a big night if you’re trying to get out of it?” You asked, fisting the duvet. “You don’t need to, do you?”

“I don’t,” Keigo sighed, awed by how quickly he admits his inner workings to you (yet again.) “It is a fun night, a lot of fun. It’s just...”

He trailed off as he set down the sickly green bottle with a sigh.

Why did he plan such a night if part of him was goddamn ecstatic about the opportunity to bail on it?

“A lot. It’s just a lot.”

“... You don’t even like drinking much, do you?” You asked, rising up from under your many blankets despite your shivering.

Once, Keigo did. His birthday was a time to get drunk on a bottle of too-expensive liquor on the floor of his too-expensive, too-empty penthouse while trying not to simmer in the loneliness that had become his norm.

“I used to,” Keigo said, a bit too wistful. “The party was just an excuse to not do it alone.”

It was far more fun to get shitfaced with a crowd of folks who saw him as beloved, even if they didn’t really see him. It was more entertaining to dance the night away, fill his room with pretty, tight cunts, one after the other than lay on the cold hardwood of his own floor, ignoring the clawing despondence that he couldn’t avoid as he got another year older—

Either way, alone or not, fucked up or fucked or not, he always felt rotten the next day.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Your words were soft, maybe just for yourself, but Keigo caught them all the same. “I’m right here.”

“I know,” Keigo placed the little cup to your dry lips. “That’s why I don’t want to go.”

...

You swallowed down the medicine, grimacing at the taste and gagging. Your rolling stomach didn’t appreciate the flavor, bile rising in the back of your throat.

“Easy now,” Keigo ran a hand through your hair as another cup was placed to your lips. “Sip.”

You wrapped your hands over Keigo’s as you all-but chugged the water, even if your stuffy nose made it taste dusty and odd.

“Good girl,” Keigo beamed, pressing a kiss to your shoulders, urging you back into the sheets. “Can you scoot for me?”

You nodded, purring with the praise, and shifted only enough for Keigo to join you in the covers, perfectly windswept, styled hair mussed up against the pillows, outfit rumpled without a care otherwise.

You both wrapped up the other in an instant.

Keigo was warm, as were you, even if you couldn’t feel it. Your body ached with each movement, your limbs growing heavy with the syrupy medicine.

“You should go,” You told him softly, speaking quickly before Keigo could disagree. “Just for a little bit. Fashionably late, and all. See some folks.”

“... I don’t want to leave you like this,” He squeezed you, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m just sick, Keigo,” You frowned, little fingers pulling at his jaw so you could meet his gaze. “I’m not dying.”

Sure, you felt like absolute shit at that moment, but the tug of slumber was beginning to outweigh your symptoms.

“Are you sure?”

You didn’t miss the tremble in Keigo’s tone.

“Of course,” You rubbed your fingers over his stubbly chin and soft cheeks. “I’ll be right here, always.”

And both of you shared a quiet moment of understanding.

...

Keigo stayed until you fell asleep, though it didn’t take long at all. Your head laid on his chest, hot puffs of breath pulling from your parted lips as Keigo took to running his hands wherever he could reach.

Your body was hot, hot enough to worry him, but he placated his protective urges (as much as he could) with the sound logic that you, indeed, did just have a fever, albeit a bad one.

Keigo left you with an array of feathers, settled around and up against your body, Your cheek was tucked into one of the broader ones, filaments remaining silken and soft. It would be a bit overwhelming, the sensation of you and your body with the crowds, paparazzi and sounds, but he’d manage.

He arrived fashionably late with a golden smile, and left unexpectedly early before the hour even struck midnight.

The turning of his birthday would be shared elsewhere.

...

You were right there, just as you promised when he returned.

The rustling of fabric and feathers is what roused you, half-way and through your medicine-induced haze.

There was the quiet sound of your dresser opening and shutting as your eyes recognized.

Your vision was blurred, but you still outstretched your palm to Keigo. He was still changing, pretty outfit gone, rings and watch discarded onto the top of your dresser. He stood nearly naked, just in boxer briefs and his entirely unbuttoned dress shirt.

“Pretty bird,” Your voice slurred as Keigo graced you with a lazy smile. “Get over here.”

“On my way, chickadee,” The smile in Keigo’s voice glowed, even in the dark of your room. “Thank you.”

“Love you,” You responded, hand falling onto the duvet, not nearly as uncomfortably cold as before. “So much.”

Keigo’s breath hitched with the common affection.

Sleepily, you wondered, “Has anyone told you that on your birthday?”

You didn’t realize you’d said it aloud.

Keigo was by your side a moment later, feathers returning to his full wings, body warm and comfortable and purely home. You snuggled into him, pulling him close with a hand around his waist, pushing weakly at the tension bound up in the fat he carried above his waist.

His wings rustled, settling half-extended over your mattress and undoubtedly drooping to the floor. Your legs tucked around his, his hands settling over your spine to count each of the vertebrae like it was the beats of a song only you too sang.

Keigo tried his best to ignore his own stray tears. It was easier to cry around you, either because he was so damn comfortable around you, or that you were a bit of a crybaby yourself.

Either way, Keigo was grateful for it.

You, in your feverish state, only felt Keigo in all of his rawness. The swell and crest of his breath, the tempo of his heart, the gentle hands and precious pressure he doled out against the tension you bore in your body, all were familiar but blessed no matter how many times you were graced by him.

Keigo wasn’t an angel, he was better than one, wings aside.

You cracked your sleep eyes open, palms around his jaw, cupping and caressing as was your rite.

Your gaze drifted just beyond Keigo to the glow of your alarm clock.

12:03 AM.

“Happy birthday, love.”

Keigo didn’t reply, only giving an audible swallow and a shaky swallow. You can feel his tears soak your fingertips.

You kissed them away, licking at the salt with the tip of your tongue, relishing Keigo’s little giggles, all for you and him to share, just the two of you.

“I adore you, you know,” you admitted, though he already knew so well. “I love you, Keigo. Thank you.”

Maybe a few of your own tears fell as you pressed your cheek to his, kissing up and down his jaw, nosing at the beat of his heart under his jaw.

Keigo layered love onto you, little repetitions, desperately returned, and shared affection. ‘I love you’s and sentiments too soft and important slipped between the two of you as sleep pulled you both under.

...

The morning came with the graces of a gentle, orange sun.

It stretched over the sheets, slipping in, uninvited but not unwanted, from around the thin curtains you had hung.

Once more, you awoke to Keigo’s little coos and hums, though he was far less awake.

Before even opening your eyes, your lips found his own. Both yours and his were parched from sleep, sticky breath hardly pleasant, but neither of you minded.

You swallowed a surprised chirp from him, rolling your hips into his own.

Keigo stilled you with a gentle hand on the back of your thighs, gripping the fat and flesh with enough force to have you purring.

“Mornin’, chickadee,” Keigo broke the kiss only to murmur against your lips.

“Hi,” You pulled away to smooth your thumbs over his cheeks, still sticky from the night before. “I love you.”

And Keigo lit, matching with the rays that filled your room, “I love you too.”

You beamed back, not bright in that same way, but luminous all the same.

Keigo took you in breathlessly, the simpleness of you leaching all air from his lungs and unwanted thoughts from his mind.

If Keigo was like the sun, all gold in the morning and red in dusk, then you were every other star that wreathed the moon. You didn’t see it, not the same way he did, but then again, only Keigo had the privilege of seeing the way how you exchanged pieces of yourselves with each other without fear.

The tenderness of that morning was far, far better than anything he’d had in years past. He missed nothing about the pounding of his skull from the liquor the night prior, the insistent need to piss out his sins and the clingings of at least a dozen perfumes from the night before.

Even that hot and fast burning ecstasy couldn’t compare to sharing the morning sun with you.

“How do you feel?” You asked, breaking Keigo from his quiet worship.

Keigo snorted, pressing his lips to your forehead, gauging the temperature, “I should be asking you that.”

“Sweaty,” You tugged on the long sleeve and bumped one of your now-naked thighs into his own. “I think my fever broke in my sleep.”

Thank God.

Keigo reached around you, rustling around for the thermometer, and placing it under your tongue.

99.3 °F.

“Looks like it,” Keigo let out a sigh of relief. “Do you feel better?”

“Mostly,” You nosed your way back under his chin for all the extra affections you could give. “Just tired.”

“We’ll have an easy day then,” Keigo replied, feathers rippling at the idea of a slow, free day in bed with you.

“But it’s your birthday— “

Keigo cut you off with a finger to your lips and a sly smile, “And I would like nothing more than to spend it, like this, with you.”

You inspected his face for any signs of dishonesty.

There wasn’t even one.

“Okay, then let me rephrase,” You huffed a little. “But what about birthday sex? I really was prepared to have you cum down my throat at least four times today.”

Keigo snorted again, flitting laughter bursting from his lips as he pulled you to his chest and smothered you with kisses.

“There’s absolutely nothing stopping us from fucking until the sun goes down, other than how you feel and what you’re up for,” Keigo reminded you, his hand drifting up to your ass and squeezing. The way you jolted into him with a little whine had Keigo already wanting. “I can make it nice and easy for you, little bird.”

You shuddered, hands drifting to the roots of his wings and teasing the small, silken feathers, “Why don’t you show me?”

Keigo needed no other command.

...

You knew Keigo could be so greedy with his touches. Some nights he’d take and take and take. He’d pull from you anything and everything you’d offer, leaving you gasping and stuffed-full with a happily broken mind. He loved stealing your breath with the pounding of his hips, stealing the sounds from your lips as they came, though you gave them freely.

That day didn’t feel like that.

“I want to be so deep in you, dovey,” Keigo purred, cooing from the back of his throat. His hand slipped between your clammy thighs. “Feel you all over.”

The pad of his index fingers ran over your clothed clit, teasing and wanting in the same moment.

“Y-you can have me any way you want,” Your voice had already gone gooey and high, pitching up and sweetened. “Wanna make you feel good.”

You rubbed at the apex of his wings, where the little feathers bled from the roots of his wings to the base bones. A low groan rumbled from his chest, one of your favorite sounds. Nothing got Keigo weaker than little pets and play to his wings. They were so sensitive from years of touch solely by his own hand. They were coveted, a part of the holy structure of his body that he hardly allowed anyone else to fully take in unless necessary, before you anyways.

That was your privilege.

Keigo slipped your panties off, the cotton fabric discarded and forgotten. A moment later, your shirt followed, leaving you bear to him.

There was still the impulse to cover yourself. Keigo loved looking at you, his pupils wide as they traced over your curves night after night like it was the first time he’d seen your skin and curves.

That morning, the feeling fell away quickly as you urged his own scraps of clothing off.

He was already hard, leaking from the thought and sight of you. You were hardly different, Keigo’s fingers teasing the lips of your sex and pulling away wet.

Without shame, he popped the finger into his mouth, sucking away your slick like it was nectar.

You tipped onto your back, pulling Keigo with you. One hand remained buried and busy with his wing while the other slipped between your bodies, wrapping around his pretty cock and stroking slow.

He gasped into your mouth as you thumbed over the head.

Smiling against his lips, you nipped and sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, enjoying your little moment of control.

Keigo stole it back quickly.

Carefully, he grabbed the back of your thighs, pushed your legs up and out. Before you had a chance to so much as whimper, Keigo slid a finger into your cunt, then two, curling against the bundle of nerves.

Your back arched, your grip on him tightened as you gasped his name like the last note of a hymn.

And Keigo wanted more.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Keigo panted, breathless and strained as he adjusted your legs over his shoulders, bearing his weight on his arms that went to brace around your head.

“C-can I have a pillow?”

“For your hips?”

“Uh-huh.”

Keigo gave you a flurry of kisses, a wordless ‘of course, I want to make you feel so good’. There was an art to wordless communication and Keigo was a goddamn masterful craftsman.

The pillow slipped was your lower back, tilting your hips up and cushioning them from whatever treatment Keigo laid upon them.

With a shaking hand, he removed yours, guiding it to his wings as he lined up his cock with your cunt and fucked into you in a single fluid motion.

The burn of it was enough to have you gasping, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders and tuck your face into his neck with a whine. Keigo soothed you without question, barely rolling his hips are you adjusted.

He settled over you close, chest brushing yours, the cold of the bars through his nipples always a shock, even when you expected it.

“M-more,” You whined, needy and sweltering with a tug of his wings. “Please.”

Keigo hummed, palming one of your breasts with a twist of your nipple, “But, you beg so pretty, little bird. What if I want to hear more? It is my birthday.”

It was, and Keigo wanted to be so close it hurt. He hardly had the patience for teasing, but when your voice got so syrupy and desperate, he couldn’t help but tug at your soon-to-be-fucked mind.

Truthfully, what Keigo wanted most for his birthday fucking was to stuff you so good and full that your tummy bulged under the flat of his palm. He wanted his cock to brush and bruise the deepest parts of you until all you knew was the chant of his name as you came so well and hard that you fucking blacked out.

But, he had to be tender.

Had to be.

“P-please!” You tilted your hips for more of him as if Keigo wasn’t already filling you up fully and perfectly. “Anything you w-want, please.”

“You mean it, little bird?”

“Uh-huh.”

And sweetly, perfectly, Keigo fucked you into the mattress.

There was some reverie in it, there had to be with the way you so gently carded through the hyper-sensitive, rounded feathers that stretched onto his back. It juxtaposed the way he railed and ruined your cunt, slick sticking your inner thighs and his pelvis with each thrust.

Each motion went so deep, you swore you could feel it in your gut. Maybe, that was why Keigo was fucking you so close, with your bodies pressed together and sharing air and heat so closely, it was hard to tell where another experience ended and another began.

You didn’t expect the first time you came, your eyes stretching wide as your crest drowned you well and sweetly. You buried your face into Keigo’s now marked and bitten neck and let out a choked sob as your cunt fluttered around him.

Keigo took a moment to slow, as he only peaked with you, but he wasn’t ready to be done with you yet. His hips barely moved in you, just nudging deeper, and deeper—

“More,” Greedy, such a greedy little whore. “M-more, please.”

Keigo chuckled, pushing some of his sweaty waves back, “Think you can handle it, little bird?”

Your face, hot with pleasure and eyes wide with want, went determined as you tugged on the wings, nails raking through the unpreened feathers.

“Fuck me like you mean it, K-Keigo— Daddy.”

Keigo stilled, raising an eyebrow, ignoring the flaring of hot, yellow fire in his chest, “You really want to push that button so early?”

“Were you planning to fuck me like a pussy the rest of the morning?”

Where did your fire come from? You were sure, maybe it was the leavings of your fever, but you didn’t care. You wore your smitten grin as Keigo’s gaze darkened, pupils so fat and focused, the citrine of his eyes was swallowed whole.

Keigo slapped a hand over your mouth, squeezing around your jaw, and fucking into you once, sharper and deeper than he had before. Your vision nearly went white, body fucked over-sensitive once but still begging for more.

Greedy, greedy, greedy.

Gluttons, the both of you.

As per your request and Keigo’s deepest wants, Keigo fucked you so earnestly, deeply, and without holding back that part of you feared the bed would break.

Each cant of his hips had your tugging at his feathers, the twitch of his cock inside more than enough of a sign at how fucking wild your touch was making him. That wasn’t to mention the filth that rolled from his lips, pants and whines and groans and words—

“Daddy’s little bird just gives so well, d-don’t you?” Keigo’s probably bruising your cervix, but you didn’t have the mind to care. “Letting me t-take whatever I want?”

You nodded behind his palm, half shrieking as his hand slipped between your bodies, rubbing your swollen clit, hot pressure building up in your gut by his hand, just as you liked.

As much as he took, he gave.

It only took a few more moments for you to sob behind his palm, clutching as your shoulders as you came so hot and bright and well, your vision sparkled and went black.

With the way your cunt clamped down around Keigo’s cock, he came just behind, filling you so, so good. His hand flew to your tummy, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself fill you with fat cock and thick cum.

You gasped as you came down, panting and clutching at Keigo as he did the same. You hushed each other with des[erate kisses, quiet praises too precious and sacred to be written, but that could certainly be felt in the air that remained conjunct between the pair of you.

Keigo rose from your body, thighs shaking in time with your own as he lowered your legs on to the sheets.

You were both messes, covered in sweat and spit and sweetness, but neither of you cared.

“You okay, little bird?” He asked, soft in the aftermath, kissing the damp apples of your cheeks.

“Uh-huh,” You gave him the best type of fucked out smile. “Can’t wait for more, it is your birthday.”

“And...” Keigo found himself speaking without thinking. “You’re here for it? All of it?”

He knew that, did he really need the reassurance—?

“Every bit of it, lovebird,” You tacked on the nickname, rising on your undoubtedly sore hips. “Every moment.”

And he couldn’t be happier about it.

||||||||||||||||||

thank you for reading!!!! 💕

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks imagines #hawks x you #mha x reader #my hero academia #happy birthday birdie <33 #heart full #its been a weird couple of days BUT!!#here #some good soft smut and just #goodness #and hurt too bc :)#anyways enjoy lovies!!!

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charlottepuddingsama · 3 years

Text

Taste of Her Own Medicine

I wrote a zosan fic; come read it (Ao3 link in the reblog)

Description: Zoro is running late to a meeting with Sanji. When he finally gets there Sanji is swooning over the ex that crushed his heart while she peacocks and shows off her new boyfriend. People like that really pissed Zoro off.

Zoro checked his watch again. God damnit, he was late. Again. Which meant Sanji was going to kill him for it. Again. He couldn’t even pin this on Sanji this time, either, because Zoro was the one to suggest they meet at the fountain. To be fair, when he suggested it he’d been sure that he in-fact knew the way to the fountain. When he reached where it should have been, however, it inexplicably wasn’t there.

Now he’s rushing halfway across town to get to where it apparently actually is, if his phone’s map could be trusted (Zoro did not trust his phone’s map, sure that it was constantly sending him on the slowest, stupidest route possible. He was definitely always better off just going his own way). At least the exercise was warming him up, the sun yet to burn off the late spring morning’s chill.

He was only twenty minutes late, maybe Sanji would let him off easy for once? Zoro sighed inwardly, knowing that would never happen. It was going to be stupid to be yelled at about this, too, since they weren’t even doing anything where timing was all that important. They were just trying to find good birthday presents for Luffy. Zoro was kind of hopeless at presents while Sanji was always amazing at them, always picking out something thoughtful and custom-tailored to the recipient. Zoro most often showed up with an amazon gift card feeling completely stupid about it. Knowing this, Zoro had stealthily suggested they go hunting together so they didn’t, “buy him the same thing.” As if Zoro would ever give as good of a gift as Sanji would. He was actually surprised Sanji hadn’t seen right through him and refused, but the other had actually more-or-less readily accepted the idea. Zoro supposed there was a first time for everything.

The first time for Zoro to not make himself late, however, was not today.

After some wrong turns and two dead ends that might have actually been the same dead end twice, Zoro finally, finally saw the large fountain that marked the beginning of the city park come into view. He slowed his jog to a walk, glad he hadn’t yet broken a sweat. Couldn’t let Sanji think he actually cared about keeping their appointment. Not that it mattered what the cook thought, of course, but if he thought Zoro cared he might somehow get an even bigger head than he already had. Not that Zoro actually cared in the first place, too, of course. He hadn’t been looking forward to spending a whole day shopping with Sanji even a little. Not at all.

Zoro looked around the paved area, searching for Sanji amongst the small crowd mingling by the fountain. The day was still a bit crisp from the morning, but that didn’t seem to dissuade people as they gathered around the mouth of the park. Some were alone, some in groups, and others towed animals on leashes either walking the pets or clearly getting walked by them. Zoro surveyed the whole crowd, looking for Sanji standing off by himself, probably bent agitatedly over his phone with a cigarette in his mouth. None of the loners in the area fit his description though.

Had Zoro somehow actually made it here first after all? That didn’t seem even a little bit likely. He kept looking.

Finally, after a long moment of searching, he managed to spot him. A familiar head of blonde hair, a neat dress shirt, and long legs stood by the side of the fountain striking an impossible-to-mistake silhouette.

He wasn’t alone, though.

In front Sanji was an unfamiliar couple: some brunette girl holding the hand of an average looking boy. Was Sanji hitting on a stranger while her boyfriend was literally right there? Really?

Zoro’s face morphed into an unimpressed look. How classic. He really had no idea what he was expecting, offering to take Sanji around in public where he might run into females in the wild. A strong feeling of annoyance grew in his chest at just imagining the stupid drivel that must be spewing out of that mouth of his.

Zoro began to march over there with intentions to drag Sanji away by the ear when he suddenly stopped himself in his own tracks. His brows furrowed, studying the way Sanji was standing. His entire posture was eerily off. One hand was in his pocket while the other held a lit cigarette. His shoulders were tight and a little high, legs slightly farther apart than normal as if on defense. There was absolutely none of the easy oozing he exuded whenever he normally was chatting up some girl. He wasn’t swooning even a little.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

A thrum of worry pulsed through Zoro. It wasn’t that he was worried about Sanji – he could take care of himself, plus, Zoro reminded himself, he didn’t give a fuck about him (how does he keep forgetting that?). Rather, he was worried about what kind of threat these two people could possibly pose to get someone as cool-headed as Sanji so visibly tense.

Looking at the two, he knew he couldn’t place the boy, but the brunette… did he know her? Her face was rather indistinct, no particular piece of it sticking out to him. Her clothes looked well-pressed, and they were probably fashionable, not that Zoro had any real frame of reference for that. Her brown hair was half tied up in two little buns on her head, the rest left to fall down past her shoulders. She just seemed like a completely random, normal person; an auto-generation of any other girl about their age in the city.

Then the girl laughed at something. The sound was shrill and obnoxious in a way that grated on every nerve Zoro had. He wanted to absolutely break something.

Oh. Oh. Ohhhh. Zoro knew exactlywho this girl was. He scowled at the memory.

She was some chick Sanji had dated for a while, maybe a couple months? A name itched at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Two months was considerably longer than most of Sanji’s little trysts. He had even brought her around to meet everyone once; it was kind of a big deal since they’re friends are not only their family, but also extremely likely to scare any normal person away. Sanji had really, really actually liked this girl, Zoro was pretty sure.

And then she dumped him.

She’d reportedly done it unceremoniously one night, completely out of the blue. She simply told Sanji that she was, “done with this relationship now,” and left. Zoro had heard that line a hundred times over in the weeks following as Sanji wallowed pitifully, hit hard by the sudden cold shoulder. It had not been a pretty sight in the slightest. The ever-enamored cook had eventually bounced back, like he always did, but it really had taken longer than usual. Even Zoro had felt sorry for the guy at the time.

And now here she was. A completely random encounter in a city filled with a thousand other people that could be here instead. And she had the nerve to do, what? Strike up a casual conversation with someone she herself had so soundly dumped, some new boy in her tow? Inching closer, Zoro just barely started to be able to hear them. It was clear even just from her tone that the words exchanged were more than awkward hellos. The girl was gushing about her boyfriend the businessman, annunciating the words as if she wanted the whole park to turn and listen. She played with some expensive looking necklace in a way that was definitely supposed to be noticed, certainly some token from her little purse-mule of a boy.

That kind of thing really pissed Zoro off. Dump someone for no reason? Fine, whatever. But then go shoving yourself at him? In public and at random? She had to know how Sanji was physically incapable of being anything but overly polite to women, abusing that to get her kicks. Zoro grit his teeth as he watched Sanji gush at her that she looked as beautiful as always, that he simply adored how her hair grew out since he’d last seen her, that he was so happy she was so well taken care of. Underneath the gushing Zoro could practically feel how upset this whole encounter made Sanji, a self-pitying tone sewn into each sentence. It was like he was a slave to his own actions. The girl clearly let her ego be boosted by his attention and that made Zoro even angrier.

Zoro eyed the boy she had tugged along. He may have been some business guy or whatever, but he certainly didn’t look very impressive. His haircut was basic, his jacket was a bit too big and made him look like he was playing dress up, and his expression seemed far away as if zoned out. Zoro had him beat in muscle and looks easily. Zoro’s shirt was tight against his well-built chest, his jeans were slung low to show just a peak of his boxers, he’d have a healthy little glow from his jogging, and he raked a hand through his hair to give it a little volume. He was fully aware of exactly how good he looked in comparison and just pissed off enough to decide he might as well use it.

He wanted to see if little miss ex could handle a taste of her own medicine.

“Oi, Sanji,” he called, finally making his way to the trio. Sanji’s shoulders jumped to his ears. Zoro thought he looked like an animal frozen in crosshairs, waiting for its instincts to lead it to fight or flee. He turned slowly to look at Zoro, his face in a very un-handsome expression of combined panic and agitation.

Zoro fought his instinct to give just as nasty an expression back knowing he was now being watched by the brunette; his little show had now officially begun. Instead, he gave Sanji an easy smile as he sauntered over to him, eyes only on him, pretending to not even notice the couple right in front of them. This, of course, only lead to Sanji scrunching up his face in incredulous confusion. If this idea was going to work Zoro was going to have to wipe that look right off him.

When he was beside him, Zoro slung an arm around Sanji’s shoulder, letting himself drape over the other. Sanji was only one centimeter shorter than him and just as strong, so it always surprised Zoro just a bit how slight his naturally thin frame felt in his arms. A small, stupid rush of protectiveness briefly filled his chest and for once Zoro indulged it letting himself draw Sanji close to him. Sanji went stiff as a board and his eyes blew open in surprise. Zoro took advantage of his surprise, not letting him even think about getting a kick in as he reached out with his other hand to grab hold of Sanji’s stubbled chin.

He drew the other in for a quick, soft kiss.

The sharp scent of tobacco filled Zoro’s senses, but underneath it lied the familiar aroma of spices that followed Sanji everywhere he went. The scent was familiar, but the feel of Sanji’s lips against his was new. For all the times he’d bitten a mark into Sanji’s pale flesh, nipping along skin usually hidden later by shirts, Zoro couldn’t actually remember them kissing. If they ever had, they certainly would never do it as gently as this. He counted to ten in his head, wanting the kiss to look real while still public-appropriate.

Zoro was perfectly prepared for Sanji to remain like cardboard, perfectly fine carrying the kiss by himself. Suddenly, though, as if some sort of switch had gone off, Sanji softened, easing into Zoro’s hold like butter into warm bread.

All at once Sanji’s plush lips gently pressed back, allowing his weight to fall where Zoro’s arms had guided it. The count in Zoro’s head faltered for a second, mind going dumb from shock. Zoro had kissed plenty of people before, was a damn good kisser himself, but somehow nothing had ever felt like this. There was something in the way Sanji relaxed into him, how perfectly their lips slotted together, and the sensory of the strong scents and rough stubble and pillowy softness of lips. It all made even such a simple kiss simply intoxicating. Had they really never done this before? Why the hell not?

At ten (or was it eleven? Twelve?) Zoro drew his head back, ending their kiss with the soft sound of lips parting. He didn’t go far, though, hand still on the other’s chin, their breath mixing in the space between them. He opened his eyes, not knowing when he’d closed them, to find Sanji staring at him with a dazed expression and a gentle, pink blush spread across his cheeks. Zoro couldn’t help but smile, a strange feeling like fondness welling up in his chest. It was probably just hormones, like always, reminding him of the other times he’d made the typically put-together Sanji blush in more heated circumstances. Yeah, that was it, had to be.

“Thanks for waiting,” Zoro said, for once owning up to being late. Sanji blinked owlishly at him, as if trying to place where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. At that cute look something compelled Zoro and he made no move to stop it, giving a sweet kiss to the bit of forehead poking out from blonde bangs as if in apology.

“Ahem?” an impatient voice said, jarring Zoro back into reality. When had he left? It was like he’d had complete tunnel vision. Now, though, the situation around him came back into sharp focus. The mild chill of the spring air, the bubbling fountain behind him, the obnoxious couple in front of him, the reason why he did what he just did. Yes, right, he’d had a reason for doing that. One, singular, solitary reason and absolutely no other. A mission, even. Right.

Zoro dropped Sanji’s chin, ignoring the tingle in his hand and the definitely non-existent desire to hold him elsewhere. He instead hooked his thumb in one of his belt loops and assumed a pose hanging off of Sanji who was now tucked rather snugly into his side. The girl had her arms crossed and looked huffy. He raised an eyebrow at the two, acting as if they’d been the ones to interrupt him. “Sorry, didn’t see you there,” Zoro said casually, just knowing an egotistical bitch like her would be bothered by that. Sure enough, the girl’s eye twitched just a bit. Zoro held back a smug smile at getting a reaction so easily. “And you would be?”

Indignation flashed in the girl’s eyes. Had Zoro asked that rudely? Oh, pardon him. She stood herself up to look taller, as if looking down on him despite being a few inches shorter. Zoro refused to be phased.

“I’m Alice,” the girl introduced herself, not bothering to introduce the boy with her. It was probably for the best as the boy’s eyes had followed Zoro’s thumb down to where it rested, clearly distracted.

“I’m sure Sanji has told you all about me,” she added with fake sweetness, an almost sadistic smile crawling up her face. Alice, right. Alice was definitely the name Sanji wailed into his empty wine glass when Zoro and the others had tried to take him out on a boys’ night to cheer him up. He actually used to kind of like that name, but now it was forever tainted with the memory of this haughty cunt in front of him.

Instead of admitting to the recollection, though, Zoro looked at her blankly. “Alice…” he said, as if mulling the name over. As if he needed to search long and hard to find any semblance of someone in Sanji’s past named Alice. “Hm,” he said at length, “no… I don’t really remember having heard about someone by that name. Have you ever mentioned an Alice, babe?”

Despite addressing him, Zoro didn’t dare look at Sanji’s face. Even just the hint of doubt or disbelief or anger from Sanji might be enough to shake Zoro off his game and have this all come crashing down more humiliating than when they’d started.

He looked at Alice, instead, who looked at him like he’d grown a second head. The very concept that Sanji might not have cried his heart out about her every day since their parting was clearly a new one. It made Zoro so happy to have so suddenly shut her down with just a few words.

“Hold on! W-we’ve met before!” Alice protested, apparently recognizing him now. Zoro noted that she didn’t wait for Sanji to confirm or deny if he’d ever deigned to mention her once their relationship had ended. Zoro wondered if she was scared to know. Hearing something like that from the man himself might just shake her precious little ego. Zoro would love to see that happen.

“Oh, we have?” Zoro asked mildly, showing a clear disinterest in whether they had or not. He pretended to mull the concept over in his head just as he had her name. He certainly remembered the party Sanji had brought her to. He remembered that it had sucked because her laugh was too annoying to ignore even from across the room and cross-eyed drunk. Finally, he shrugged simply, clearly not caring one way or another. “Guess it just wasn’t very memorable.”

At that Alice looked absolutely stricken, an arrow piercing directly into her pride. Bullseye, Zoro thought to himself, narrowly remembering to keep his face schooled. He so badly wanted to give her the same wolfish grin he reserved for his enemies at tournaments, but his own internal satisfaction would have to suffice.

In his peripheral, Zoro saw Sanji take a long drag off his cigarette. Hopefully that meant he was willing to quietly play along. Possibly it meant he thought Zoro had genuinely forgotten about her and that he was about to get pummeled into a paste in about five seconds.

“S-So then, you two? You’re together then?” Alice asked, clearly affronted and looking for something to refill her sails. Zoro wondered if she was beginning to consider him her replacement. He wondered how he measured up.

Suddenly, though, she seemed then to get herself a second wind, puffing herself up in her coat. Zoro refrained from frowning, if just barely. And here he’d been winning.

“It’s so adorable to see new couples, isn’t it Darek, sweetie?” she said sweetly, grabbing on to her boy’s sleeve. The boy in question nodded absentmindedly, eyes locked on where Zoro was oh-so-incidentally toying at the waistband of his boxers with his thumb. A charming one, wasn’t he? “We’ve been together for four months now. It’s just so hard to find the one you’re truly meant to be with, but so rewarding to know they’re all yours. How long has your cute little thing been going on for?”

So she was considering him to be her replacement. Moreover, it seemed clear that if that were the case, he’d be the winner. This was her alternative hypothesis, the situation that would set the world just a little bit more right than it was right then. If their relationship was new she could brush it all off as certain to be doomed in a week or two, as so many new relationship were. Well, he’d better set her little worries to rest, now shouldn’t he?

“This little love bug,” Zoro said, pressing a sweet kiss to Sanji’s cheek, forcibly holding the other’s shoulder’s down when they jumped, “Has been all mine since August.” Would he most likely be paying for “love bug” with his very life later? Yes, yes he would. But it was so, so very worth it to see Alice’s face as she did the math. Zoro distinctly recalled The Wailing Remembrance of Alice having begun in that hot and muggy summer month. Logically, then, that made Zoro one hell of a rebound, and one that stuck quite nicely, too.

Alice was clearly taken aback, her refilled sails deflating again catastrophically. The cutesie pda, Zoro’s complete disinterest in with her, and the dawning evidence that maybe Sanji hadn’t been so hopelessly lost without her was doing exactly the job Zoro had hoped it would.

“B-but I thought you two hated each other!” She cried, looking between the two and sounding a bit desperate, “That you couldn’t stand in the same room without arguing!”

She, of course, had seen firsthand at the party the animosity between the two. She also had probably had to sit through at least a couple sessions of Sanji bitching about whatever thing Zoro had done to purposefully annoy him. Well, Zoro figured, you know what they say: when in doubt, gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss.

“Oh?” Zoro said, cocking his head to the side, “Why do you say that?” He said it as if she was insane, as if she hadn’t seen their fights herself, as if they weren’t literally known for their arguments with each other. He said it like it was completely and entirely natural for them to be like this now. It helped that Sanji hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t given a single physical sign that this wasn’t exactly what they usually did. He made it seem like he was perfectly comfortable being held close to Zoro’s chest. That it was where he belonged.

They had even, in fact, gone a whole five minutes without arguing.

Alice’s mouth opened and closed for a minute, her mind clearly trying to calculate and recalculate this encounter, but the numbers just didn’t seem to be adding up in her favor. Zoro almost pitied her, except that she had very much started it and brought all this upon herself.

Finally, she looked to her boy as if for some sort of support. All she found was that his attention was firmly on Zoro’s chest, eating up the eye candy readily. He even went as far as to lick his lips.

“Darek!” Alice scolded under her breath, scandalized, slapping his chest for attention.

“Ow!” Darek said, shocked out of whatever daydream he’d been having.

Zoro finally let himself give a toothy smile. He considered his damage officially done. Alice had clearly been knocked down a peg or two, and her little walking-wallet of a boyfriend had been reduced from oh-so successful businessman to just another ogler looking for the next pretty thing. This was a resounding victory.

Now for a victorious escape out of this situation as fast as possible.

“Come on, babe,” Zoro said, turning his head to nuzzle into Sanji’s hair. How did he always forget just how soft those golden strands were? “I’ve made you wait long enough. I owe you a date.”

Zoro smiled into the last sentence, making it sound like their “date” was the only thing on his mind. Like he’d been thinking all week long about getting to see the other, the thought being his lone reason to keep going day after day. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth, obviously. There had been absolutely zero percent of him that had put any emphasis on this little outing even once this past week. He hadn’t done laundry for the express purpose of having something he liked to wear, he hadn’t trimmed up his sideburns and played with different hair products all week, and he definitely was not currently wearing cologne. The smile was simply an affectation of the truth, just for the sake of the ruse. That’s it.

Before anyone had time to say anything more, Zoro gently ushered Sanji to turn away from the other couple. To his relief, Sanji went willingly.

“W-wha-hey! Wait a minute!” Alice blustered, stomping a foot.

“It was nice meeting you,” Zoro said, not even looking back at her, just waving his free hand slightly.

“I told you, we already met!” she fumed, but Zoro paid it absolutely no mind. He grinned like an absolute shark, amazed he was getting away with this.

“Wait!” She yelled again.

Then, she played dirty.

“Sanji,” she said, a whimper in her voice.

Sanji stopped dead in his tracks. Zoro did too, not wanting to have to actually drag the other. He closed his eyes and cursed in his head. They had been so close.

Sanji took a long drag off his cigarette. As he sucked in, the moment seemed to stretch out, becoming longer than it was before. Finally, he blew a long exhale, smoke leaving his mouth fluidly. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette, dropped it to the pavement, and ground it out with his toe.

Zoro didn’t look at his face. He didn’t want to see even an ounce of hurt from such a stupid, shallow, nobody of a girl. It was so ridiculous for someone like that to make someone like Sanji feel anything at all, let alone pain. It made bile rise in Zoro’s throat and blood rush in his ears, but he kept his cool. He’d tried his rescue strategy. This was now nothing but Sanji’s fight.

Sanji turned his head over their shoulders. Zoro expected whimpering or pitiful noises, or maybe simply his standard gushing. Assurances that Alice still lived in his heart, that she always would. He’d tell her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world, that nobody could compare, that he would never want anyone else more than he wanted her. Zoro felt an unusual nausea in his gut.

“It was good to see you, Alice!” Sanji called brightly, his tone clear of any whining or gooeyness, much to Zoro’s surprise. No hurt? No presentation of wounds? No flattery? No begging?

“I’m glad you’re doing well.” Zoro was nearly in shock; Sanji sounded completely genuine. Did he… get over her? Just now? In this moment?

He hazarded a look at Sanji’s face and found a brilliantly beaming smile that reached his clear blue eyes. It was a smile that could put a thousand suns to shame, a smile that could launch a thousand ships, a smile worth the world over in gold and then some. Somehow, Sanji was really, truly happy.

Something inside Zoro absolutely melted and something else bloomed warm in his chest.

Before Zoro could even start to think about processing that, Sanji turned to him, and he was simply lost. For a brief second that stretched into minutes, days, years even, nothing else existed but him and Sanji and Sanji’s blue eyes shining back at him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the beautiful man in front of him.

Then Sanji spoke, and Zoro forced himself out of that moment. Back to reality. Again, when had he left? He couldn’t recall.

“Come on, then, dearest,” Sanji jeered, his eyes now gleaming mischievously and smile saccharine sweet as he prodded. Zoro cognitively knew that he was always annoyed by that expression yet couldn’t seem to summon up the actual feeling of being annoyed. “I believe you promised me shopping?” Zoro felt a hand slip into the far back pocket of his jeans.

Now they really did look like a disgustingly lovey-dovey honeymoon-stage couple out for a date. Sanji gave his ass a teasing squeeze, snickering as Zoro felt his whole face grow red hot. Who had initiated the touching again? It couldn’t possibly have been him. This was far too intimate for him to have started, surely.

Zoro gulped heavily and remembered that he had a part to play here. He once again ushered them forward down the street. The last thing he heard from the girl – her name already returning to a blank spot in Zoro’s mind – was her yelling at her boyfriend to get his jaw off the ground and stop drooling already.

Zoro let Sanji lead them down a couple blocks, dazed and distracted. During the whole encounter he’d kept himself perfectly calm, but now that it was over his heart was beating hard in his chest. He replayed the whole scene in his head, impossibly surprised that it actually worked. How in the hell had it actually worked? How had they passed so easily for an actual couple?

Zoro was still wondering at how miraculous their success was when Sanji broke his concentration.

“Hey, Zoro,” Sanji said, casually as can be, leading them down some sort of alley between buildings.

“Yeah?” Zoro grunted, freshly shaken from his thoughts.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“What do you want, shit cook?”

“Well, would you mind ever so terribly-“ Suddenly, a foot came flying at his face and Zoro was too startled to block it in time, “-GETTING YOUR BIG, DUMB GORILLA HANDS OFF OF ME!”

Zoro went flying into the wall of the alley, back hitting with a sharp snap of pain. He was fine, though, nothing he couldn’t brush off.

“What the hell was that for?” Zoro scowled. He peaked at the wall behind him; the brick was only cracked a little, just barely resembling the outline of a person. Nothing identifying, so it was fine.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Sanji sneered, adjusting the collar of his button-up and dusting off his pants as if the mere presence of Zoro in his bubble was sullying.

“Heh, I can think of a few times you’ve liked me touching you just fine,” Zoro retorted, wiggling his brows suggestively.

“You’re such a pervert,” Sanji said with disgust.

“You’re one to talk, love cook, swooning after a girl with her boyfriend literally right next to her.” Zoro swiped his thumb under his nose, checking for blood and finding none. Nothing seemed broken, that was good.

“Hey!” Sanji protested, looking angry. Had Zoro gone to far with bringing it up already? He knew the situation wasn’t exactly typical. Still, the whole thing still kind of pissed him off, so why shouldn’t he talk about it? “I didn’t ask for your help back there!”

“Oh?” Zoro asked, a smirk coming to his face, “So you admit that what I did was helpful?”

Sanji’s face grew red, frustration and agitation clear. “Oh, go die in a hole, you moron.”

“Whatever,” Zoro shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, and leaning against the cracked brick coolly, “I was just pissed off, that’s all.”

“You?” Sanji asked condescendingly, “What the hell did you have to be pissed off about?”

“Don’t like that girl, is all,” Zoro answered plainly, closing his eyes as he relaxed, his heart rate finally dropping back to normal after all the excitement. The physical distance from Sanji and the sting of pain had broken his strange headspace. He was feeling like his usual self again, now. No weird, overly emotional thoughts swirling around. “Didn’t like her when you talked about her, didn’t like her when you brought her around, and I didn’t like her when I saw her just now, either.”

Zoro could feel Sanji study him for a moment, as if trying to decide if he bought that. “And what exactly has she done to you to make you hate her so much?”

Zoro huffed, rather done with the interrogation despite it hardly having begun. “I just can’t stand her attitude, that’s all. She’s so holier-than-thou, and then goes around parading herself like she’s the best thing since sliced bread.” The nerve of that girl, honestly. Zoro worked up a little mucus in his mouth and spit at the ground. “She thinks she can just waltz around hurting people to make herself feel better. Pisses me off.”

“Hey, you can’t say that about a beautiful lady!”

“Oh, piss off,” Zoro said, rolling his eyes, “First of all as far as I could tell she wasn’t even that good looking, average at best.” He will fully admit to his radar being finely attuned to men only, though, so maybe he’s wrong, but she really didn’t seem like anything special to him. “And secondly you never would have taken that kind of crap from a guy. You would have kicked him to the moon and back the second he tried that shit. But with her, and every other woman ever, you let her walk all over you. Not exactly a good idea when the girl’s a grade-A bitch.”

They stood there in that alley for a long moment, Sanji just watching Zoro and Zoro just watching him back. They both knew he was right.

“Tch,” Sanji spat at length, “I was raised a ladies’ man, and that’s just how it is.” Zoro knew that, too. This wouldn’t change anything. He doesn’t know how it happened, but somehow that behavior just got hard coded into Sanji. It was fine except that it was annoying and opened him up so easily to those who would misuse his kindness. There weren’t many of Sanji’s exes that Zoro didn’t outright hate, now that he thought about it, and certainly none that he properly liked. Maybe that was why.

“And anyway,” Sanji cut in, breaking Zoro’s wandering thoughts, “Why the hell do you care how I’m treated anyway?”

What? Did he say that? No way he’d said that. “I don’t!” He didn’t! Zoro felt his face grow hot, which didn’t make any sense. This was stupid. “I-It’s just the principal of the matter, is all!”

“Oh really?” Sanji asked, clearly unconvinced.

“Shut the hell up, bastard,” Zoro snapped, now really well and truly done with this whole affair. He took a breath, cooling himself down. Sanji always got him so worked up it was stupid. “Whatever, believe whatever the hell you want, I already told you the truth. She was a cunt and that’s all there is to it.”

The words clearly ticked Sanji off, but that was good, got him distracted from whatever bullshit he was spewing about Zoro caring about him or something. Idiot.

“You know, you could really do with learning some good manners towards ladies.” Sanji scowled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro said, waving off the idea for the billionth time. “Last time I treated a girl any differently she caved my head in with a stick. Won’t be making that mistake twice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanji asked, making a dumb face as if Zoro had said some sort of convoluted metaphor.

“Forget about it,” Zoro dismissed, having not intended to bring Kuina into this. He shoved off the wall and decided it was time to get out of this alley and back to what they came here for.

“Whatever,” Sanji said, rolling his eyes, apparently too done with Zoro to bother to pry.

Zoro walked until he was passing Sanji by, heading toward the mouth of the alley. Sanji stood silently, looking like he was thinking about something.

Just as he passed, Sanji said something quietly, “She really was a bit mean, wasn’t she?”

Zoro stopped there, just in front of the other. He didn’t get it. He didn’t know why Sanji was like this. Why was it so impossibly hard for him to admit when a woman was bad to him? So inconceivable to fight back? It made Zoro so impossibly upset sometimes. But here he was with this one little admittance. This one time this one woman was a bit mean to him. Zoro shouldn’t shoot this down. He couldn’t bring himself to if he wanted.

“Yeah,” Zoro huffed, a bit of a smile playing on his lips with the magnitude of the understatement. “And stupid too,” he added.

“Stupid?” Sanji asked, hackles raised all over again, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Sheesh, isn’t it obvious?” Zoro asked, huffing a short laugh through his nose, “First she dates you, which already brands her as an idiot –“

“Hey!”

“- And then she brings around that chump as if he’s supposed to somehow make you jealous. Seriously, as if he’d ever hold a candle to you.” What a joke.

Sanji didn’t say anything to that, and Zoro looked back curiously.

Sanji was just staring at him, eyes a little wide and face dusted pink. “Hah?” Zoro questioned, one eyebrow quirked. “What, did I say something wrong?”

Sanji looked at him for a moment longer, the silence stretching between them yet carrying surprisingly little tension. Finally, Sanji seemed to shake himself out of it. “It’s nothing, moss-for-brains. And get out of my way,” he said, shoving Zoro by the face.

“Hey! Cut it out!” Zoro yelled, shoving Sanji’s hand off his face.

“Ah, deal with it, grass-head,” Sanji said, pulling out a cigarette and his lighter, “Let’s find whatever the hell kind of present Luffy would want already.”

Zoro grumbled but followed along, ready to get this errand over with and the weird events of ten minutes ago behind him. This event would be receiving absolutely no post-facto analysis. There wasn’t a single thought, feeling, or action that needed a second look at or processing time to rectify with his current world view, and he was eager to put it all out of his head.

“And hey,” Sanji said. Zoro sighed inward, sure this was going to be something weird about the thing that just happened, “Thanks.”

Yup. Weird. Weird, weird, weird. It was so weird for Sanji to thank him, he almost hated it. He did hate it. He absolutely definitely hated it. That must be what the rosy feeling in his chest was: hate for how weird it was.

“Yeah, well, you know,” Zoro said, shrugging the whole ordeal off as they did with almost everything that’s happened between them, “Don’t mention it.”

This, as so much else, would be their little secret.

A comfortable silence rested between them as they each took a moment to breathe.

“By the way, are you wearing cologne?”

“IN YOUR DREAMS!”

#one piece #zosan #sanzo #zoro/sanji #sanji/zoro #zoroxsanji #sanjixzoro #fake dating #my writing #fanfiction

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dottielovegood · 3 years

Text

ASMR - Chapter 4

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)

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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here

Read this fic on AO3

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The following week, Azriel read Elain’s messages too many times to admit. He had answered her that “meat banjo” was, indeed, a vile word, and after that, they hadn’t really talked or texted.

He had saved her number as “Elain”, which had felt weirdly private. As if they were friends, which they were not. He was just her friendly helper, and she was his remedy for nightmares.

However, even though they didn’t know each other, Azriel felt an odd sensation in his chest when he thought about her. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that he was missing her, which was absurd. But the tight little knot in his chest felt very much like longing. He tried to tell himself that this was weird and stupid. He knew that he had a crush on her (even though he hated to admit it), but he could also see that it was a pointless crush. She was an internet sensation, he was a boring IT guy. She was light and happiness and flowers, he was dark and brooding. She made people smile, he made people uncomfortable. And then there was the practical side of things. They had met on the internet. She probably lived on the other side of the country. Hell, she could even live in a different country for all he knew. She might have a partner already - it’s not like he asked. And, last but not least, she probably didn’t have a crush on him.

Before talking to her on the phone, he had just thought that she was a pretty girl that deserved kindness. But after their phone call, he had definitely developed a crush. Which was another reason why he hadn’t texted her. He didn’t want to bother her and he didn’t want to have this crush. He wanted to stop feeling like this for a girl he would never see in real life. Yet, every night before bed, he found himself on her youtube page, watching one of her many videos.

She uploaded a new video to Youtube every Friday, so when Friday came around, Azriel was itching to get home so he could go to sleep (he told himself that he was looking forward to sleeping and not to seeing her face).

However, he had an entire workday to get through first. The office was mostly an open landscape and Azriel’s desk was next to Cassian’s. The only person with his own office was Rhysand, which was fair since he was the owner of the company. At two in the afternoon, Rhys poked his head out of his office.

“You guys are still coming for dinner this weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Azriel and Cassian answered in unison.

“I told Feyre that I would help her with the food,” Azriel continued.

Rhys looked like he was going to kiss Azriel. “Oh, god. Thank you, man. I was scared that we would have to repeat the Christmas dinner,” he said and shuddered.

Feyre hated to cook and Rhys did most of the cooking at home, but for some inexplicable reason, she always wanted to cook for holidays or family dinners. To everyone’s dismay. Christmas had been no exception. She had burned the turkey, added salt instead of sugar to the dessert and somehow managed to buy the wrong berries for her cranberry sauce. Luckily, Rhys had been prepared and bought a few frozen pizzas and some ice cream, so the day wasn’t that much of a disaster, but nobody wanted to brave Feyre’s cooking again.

“Why don’t you just cook?” Cassian asked without looking up from his screen.

“You know that she kicks me out if I so much as go near the kitchen when we have these family dinners. And since she started the hormone treatment, she has been a bit bitchy when she gets mad, so I’ll just do whatever she says.”

Azriel chuckled. He could tell from Rhysand’s tone that Feyre had been more than “a bit” bitchy.

“I don’t understand why she lets Azriel help, though…”

“Maybe because she knows that I’ll tell her to sit down with a glass of wine and a magazine, and then she can take all of the credit for the food?”

“Fair enough.” Rhys shrugged. “Just burn the food a little bit, or it won’t be believable.”

Cassian snorted. “No one would believe that something edible was made by your wife. Sorry.”

“She does make a great green smoothie, though,” Rhys grinned and held up his glass.

Azriel and Cassian looked at each other and had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing. The smoothie looked vile and smelled even worse.

After a few more minutes of small talk, Rhys went back to his office for an important phone call. “See you on Saturday,” he reminded them before closing the door.

Azriel and Cassian worked in silence for the remainder of the day.

When Azriel came home that evening, he made a quick pasta carbonara to eat in front of the TV. He was re-watching New Girl. It was his comfort show and absolutely nobody knew that he watched it (and had watched it multiple times). He would take that information with him to the grave. But it was fun and cute and sometimes he liked to imagine his friends as characters in the show. Cassian was probably Schmidt, because Nesta was one hundred percent Cece. Feyre was Jess, which meant that Rhys was Nick. And then there was Azriel. He wanted to say that he was a very cool character, but most characters on this show weren’t cool, and also, he was definitely Winston. Alone with a cat - sounds about right , Azriel thought to himself as he finished his bowl of pasta.

When the episode ended he just waited for the next to start. He didn’t have any plans for the night and nowhere to be. His phone vibrated where he had left it on the kitchen counter. He ignored it, feeling too lazy to get up. But then it vibrated again. With a sigh, he got up. He expected to see a text from Mor telling him to bring wine tomorrow, or maybe a strange meme from Cassian. What he didn’t expect was to see Elain’s name on his screen.

He could feel his heart in his throat as he read her messages.

Elain Hey, Shadowsinger. I’m uploading a new video soon. You should watch it!

Elain I hope that message didn’t sound creepy? I just meant that I think you might like it.

Azriel’s hands were sweaty.

Azriel You didn’t sound creepy at all. Of course, I’ll watch your video. May I ask what I can expect from it?

Just seconds later, Elain answered.

Elain You can ask, but I might not tell ;)

Azriel Should I be worried?

Elain Haha, no! I think it turned out great. You were my inspiration :)

Azriel could feel himself blush. He had never been someone’s inspiration before.

Azriel So, I’m your muse? ;)

Oh god, was that too flirty? Was the winky-face too much? He wished that he could take back the message.

Elain For tonight, yes!

Azriel stared at his phone, unsure of what to answer. Luckily, Elain wrote to him again.

Elain What are you doing tonight?

Azriel Nothing. Just eating pasta and watching TV. How about you?

Elain That sounds amazing. I have been editing this video for hours so I’m just tired and cranky, haha. I have just ordered a pizza and I think I’ll just eat it in bed as soon as this video has finished uploading. What did you watch?

Azriel If I told you, I would have to kill you.

Elain Oh, intriguing! Is it trashy drama? I bet it’s Grey’s anatomy! Or maybe… Love Island?

Azriel stared at his phone. Did she really think that he would watch something like Love Island?

Azriel I watched New Girl, okay. Don’t tell anyone.

Elain Your secret is safe with me! Also, I love New Girl! Especially Winston!

It felt as if someone was squeezing Azriel’s heart.

Azriel Really? Which character would you be?

Elain My pizza is here so I am going to put all of my electronics in a different room and eat my pizza while reading a good book. It was great talking to you, Azriel! Please tell me what you thought of the video when you have watched it.

Elain Oh, and I would probably be Winston’s cat. lol

Azriel almost dropped his phone. If he had to be alone with a cat for the rest of his life, he would definitely want Elain to be his cat , he thought to himself. Which was a weird thing to think about someone you didn’t know. Azriel dropped his head to his kitchen counter and took a deep breath before replying.

Azriel It was great talking to you too, Elain. Enjoy your dinner and your book :)

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Azriel was going to be thinking about her for the rest of the night anyway.

30 minutes later, he got a notification telling him that Flower Girl ASMR had uploaded a new video. The video was called “ASMR for IT-guys”, which made him chuckle. He clicked the video and Elain’s beautiful face filled his screen again.

“Hello, my lovelies, lovelies, lovelies,” she whispered in her microphone. “This week’s video will be a bit different,” she continued, slowly moving her hands in front of the camera. “This video was inspired by my friend who recently helped me with some computer-related issues, issues, issues.”

Azriel loved it when she repeated words like that. And he liked that he somehow was a part of this video. It was something that connected them. Azriel paused the video and got into bed, knowing fully well that he would probably fall asleep soon if he kept watching this.

He pressed play again. “So, today, I thought that we would try a few computer-related triggers. I have a keyboard here,” she said and started typing on a keyboard that was out of view. “I thought that I would say a few trigger words while typing them.”

She smiled at the camera and pressed a few more keys. “I just wrote my friend’s name, but you won’t get to know who he is. But you know who you are. Thank you for your help!”

Azriel felt all warm inside.

She continued the video. “The first trigger word is IP address ”. Azriel laughed as she repeated the word multiple times while typing quickly.

“And then we have, laptop, laptop, laptop,” she continued, and Azriel felt shivers go down his spine when she popped the p’s.

Azriel had never thought that he would fall asleep to someone whispering “HTML coding” in his ears, but here he was. Relaxed and ready to sleep.

All thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The next day, Azriel texted Elain that he had loved the video. He waited for hours, but no reply came. Maybe she just wanted to repay me for helping her? Azriel thought. Maybe she would stop talking to him now that he had seen the video.

The thought of never talking to Elain again made him feel a new kind of ache in his chest. An ache he didn’t want to feel. This stupid crush needs to end, he muttered to himself as he started to scrub his kitchen counter. He tried to ignore the feeling by keeping busy. He cleaned his apartment and did some laundry before heading over to his friends’ house.

Rhys greeted him by the door and ushered him inside.

“She started cooking like 15 minutes ago, please save whatever can be saved,” he whispered to Azriel. Azriel chuckled and made his way to the kitchen. On the way there, he passed the living room and stopped to greet his friends. He saw most of them on a daily basis because of work, but he was still happy to see them. Cassian and his fiancée Nesta sat close together on one of the green velvet couches. On the opposite couch sat Mor and Amren. Mor was one of the journalists at Velaris News, and Amren was an editor. They had known each other for years. Amren and Rhys had studied together at university, and Mor was Rhysand’s cousin. Once upon a time, Azriel had a crush on Mor. One night after one too many glasses at Rita’s he confessed his feelings to her and she had looked horrified. He had expected her to tell him that she didn’t fancy him and leave it at that, but instead, she had blurted “I like girls!”

Azriel was the first person she ever came out to, and he had felt honored. He also knew now that they wouldn’t have worked out together in the long run (even if Mor had been straight). They were just too different. She was energetic and outgoing and fun, he needed peace and quiet. But she was still one of his very best friends.

Amren on the other hand, he didn’t know as well. She had always been very private, but she was damn good at her job.

“Where’s Varian tonight?” Azriel asked Amren, trying to make small talk.

“How should I know?” she answered quickly. “I’m not his mother.”

Cassian stared at her. “But you are his girlfriend?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like to label things.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. Amren had lived with Varian for the past two years, but she was still reluctant to tell anyone about their relationship.

Azriel made his way into the kitchen, and from what he could tell, he made it just in time.

“What are you making, Feyre?” he asked, because truthfully, he couldn’t tell.

Feyre turned around quickly as if he had startled her. “Oh, hi Az,” she said and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Something was burning.

“I was trying to make lamb chops with glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, and salsa verde, but…” she gestured to the stove, which looked like a disaster.

Azriel chuckled. “That’s ambitious.” He lifted the lid from one of the pots and could clearly see that she had overcooked the lamb 10 minutes ago. Also, why had she made them in a pot, and not a frying pan? It would be inedible.

The potatoes were still in the sink, unpeeled.

She gave him a strained smile. “Will you help me?”

“Of course.” Azriel put the grocery bag he had brought with him on the kitchen island. “On one condition.”

“Anything.” She sounded desperate.

“Please, for the love of god, let Rhys cook when we come over. You really don’t have to show off. You are good at many things, Feyre. But cooking is unfortunately not one of them.”

She nodded. “I know,” she sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island and buried her face in her hand. “I just...I need to be able to cook when I become a mother.”

Azriel took her hand in his. “You really don’t. Nobody expect fathers to be good at cooking, so why should every mother be good at it? Honestly, just let Rhys cook while you play with the kids.”

She smiled at him. “That actually sounds amazing,” she sighed.

“Right?”

Azriel started to pull out some ingredients from the bag on the kitchen island. He held up the tomatoes and the spaghetti, “How about some pasta arrabbiata with burrata?”

“Sounds fancy.”

He shrugged. “Everything sounds fancier in a different language. It’s just pasta with a spicy tomato sauce, and burrata on top.”

“Whatever you make will probably be better than that mess,” she said and glanced towards the stove. Azriel couldn’t disagree.

“Probably,” he laughed and got to work. Azriel placed all the pots and pans in the sink and started chopping the vegetables for the sauce, and in just 30 minutes, dinner was served.

“You are my hero,” Feyre said and kissed his cheek as she carried the big bowl of pasta to the dining room.

Everyone had already gathered around the table, wine glasses in hand. As Azriel sat down, Mor poured him some wine.

“This looks amazing,” Nesta said and Cassian nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Az helped a little,” Feyre said and winked at Azriel.

“Just a bit,” Azriel said and took a sip of wine.

The conversation (and wine) flowed freely, as it always did. Cassian and Nesta told them about their wedding plans, Mor gushed about Emerie, a girl she was dating, and Feyre told them about life as a high school art teacher. Azriel would never understand how anyone could choose to spend their days with teenagers, but Feyre loved it.

After two bottles of wine, Nesta and Mor were in an argument about which animal was the cutest.

“No, I am telling you, Sloths are cuter than any animal ever,” Mor exclaimed. “Have you seen their dopey little faces?”

“Sloths? Really?” Nesta looked at her as if she had suggested that the sky was green. “Red pandas are way cuter! They are cute and cuddly, Sloths just look like every single stoner I went to high school with.”

They had been at it for 10 minutes, which Azriel found to be quite impressive.

“Can you both just shut up?” Amren gritted out. “The cutest animals are koalas. They’re even cute when they fight. I am right, you are wrong. Please stop this meaningless discussion before I die from boredom.”

Nesta and Mor looked at Amren, and then at each other.

“We obviously have to see Koalas fight if you want us to end this conversation,” Mor said.

Nesta nodded. “Obviously. Give me your phone, Az,” she said and reached for his phone.

“Why do you need my phone?”

“Because mine is dead and yours is right there on the table. Also, your screen is big and we need to watch this in full HD, for obvious reasons.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, unlocked his phone, and handed it to Nesta.

She clicked the Youtube app, and then her face fell. She looked at Azriel as if he was an alien, and then she showed the phone to Cassian who looked at him with the same facial expression.

What the hell had they found?

He didn’t have anything weird on his phone. And he sure as hell didn’t watch porn on it.

“What?” Azriel asked, and Nesta turned the phone.

Fuck. The last video he had watched was still loaded on Youtube, and of course, it was Elain’s latest video.

“What the hell is this?” Nesta asked, almost looking angry.

Azriel didn’t understand why she found ASMR so wrong, but he desperately wanted to explain himself.

“Well, it’s ASMR. It’s kind of… well, it’s hard to explain, but it helps me sleep and– “

Nesta interrupted him before he could finish. “I know what ASMR is. I am wondering why you are watching Elain?”

Azriel stared at Nesta in shock. Did she also like Elain’s videos? But that wouldn’t explain the anger and confusion.

“Do you...know her?” Azriel asked.

“Yes, we went to university together. She’s our florist for the wedding. She was the florist at their wedding, too,” Nesta answered and gestured towards Rhys and Feyre. “Surely you have met her?”

Azriel could do nothing but shake his head in confusion. If he had ever met Elain, he would have known. You didn’t forget a face like hers.

“Please tell me you’re not stalking her like some creep, Az. Honestly, her last boyfriend was the world’s biggest asshat.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Azriel blurted out. “I’m just watching her videos to fall asleep, I promise. I– I didn’t know that you knew her.”

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “So, is this just a coincidence?”

He nodded. “Weirder things have happened,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nesta glanced at Cassian, and then back at Azriel. “Fine,” she said after a small eternity. “You would probably be cute together anyway. Sorry for insinuating that you would be a stalker.” She really did look remorseful. “That wasn’t fair. I’m just very protective of her. She’s the nicest girl, but she has horrendous taste in men.”

Azriel couldn’t answer, because his mind was still stuck on the fact that Nesta said that they would be cute together. He wanted to ask Nesta why she thought that. He kind of also wanted to ask her if Elain lived here in Velaris, and what her favorite movie was, and if she, by any chance, had a boyfriend. But he refrained, he didn’t want to sound like a stalker.

“So, what the fuck is ASMR?” Cassian asked. “Is it like porn?”

Before Azriel could answer, Rhys said “It’s like porn for your ears, I guess,” and then the entire table was laughing.

“Nesta,” Feyre said when the laughter had died down. “Does Elain still have that cute, little shop on River Street?”

“Mhm,” Nesta answered and took a sip of her wine.

Azriel could kiss Feyre for asking. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could see her wink in his direction before raising her water glass to her lips.

Azriel walked home that evening with a million thoughts in his head.

He made a list in his head:

Elain lived in Velaris

River Street was literally a 10-minute walk from his home.

Nesta thought that they would be cute together

This meant nothing

She probably didn’t even like him back

Just because they were in the same city, it didn’t mean that they would ever meet.

This was still just a crush

And it was probably one-sided

She hadn’t even answered his latest text message.

And as if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Elain I’m sorry that I didn’t answer you earlier. I’ve been at work all day. We had a leak in the basement and everything was just chaos. I haven’t even checked my phone until now.

He mentally scratched number 9 from his list.

Azriel No worries! Did you fix the leak?

Azriel checked the time on his phone: 23.30

Had she dealt with this leak until now?

Elain Yes! But so many flowers were ruined (I’m a florist) and I had to remake a few arrangements for a wedding that’s coming up.

Elain I’m sorry. You probably don’t care. I’m happy that you liked the video :)

Azriel wanted to tell her that he did care. That everything she said was interesting to him. He would probably even find her Starbucks order fascinating. But that bordered on stalker behavior.

Azriel Again, no worries! Sometimes when you’ve had a bad day, you just need someone to vent to.

Elain Exactly! Thank you for letting me vent :) This day is finally over!

There was a selfie attached to the last message.

Elain was standing in front of a big window surrounded by flowers. She was wearing a white, oversized shirt and her hair was in a messy bun. She looked tired but happy. She was giving him ‘thumbs up’ in the photo and through the window, he could see the Sidra. They were indeed in the same city. It made him both happy and nervous.

Elain Sweaty but happy to be heading home :)

Azriel received that last message when he walked through the door to his apartment. What the hell was he supposed to answer?

But then he thought back to Nesta’s words.

You would probably be cute together.

So he took a deep breath and gathered all his courage.

Azriel You still look beautiful though

He stared at his phone. Would she answer? Would she block him? Would she tell him to stop being a creep?

Elain Thank you :) What do you look like? I might have forgotten ;)

Okay. That was flirty. Even Azriel could tell that that was a flirty text message, and he was usually oblivious to such things. He quickly walked to his bathroom (it was the room with the best lighting). He checked his shirt (no stains) and mussed with his hair.

“Good enough,” he muttered, and snapped a selfie.

Before he could chicken out, he sent it to her.

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Elain Beautiful!

#elriel #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel x elain #azriel

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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

I saw your request open. I dunno how to do these things but here I go. My request is a headcannon of mammon dealing with mc who has hay-fever. So like mammon doesn't understand and thinks mc is upset with him or something( cos you get them teary eyes) something cute and fluffy with comfort?

Hey, hey~! Sorry requests are taking a little longer to fulfill, but here’s yours!

Hay fever sounds like a pain to deal with xc

Take good care, all of you who suffer allergies!

-- -- --

😈💛 Mammon 💰💸

Since the Devildom is so different to the human world, maybe they pushed aside the thought of their hay fever (or they play forgot because same, it just happens, and you remember once it comes back)

The alarm rings once their nose gets itchy, throat a bit scratchy as if it weren’t properly hydrated, and eyes get a little watery from time to time

“Say, Satan, do Devildom flowers and plants have a season where the majority bloom? Do they- Do they release pollen?”

“Ah, yes, they do. It’s around this time of year where most of the bushes and trees you see planted around RAD and streets begin their blooming. Is there a particular reason why you ask?”

“Uhm… well, you see…”

After the well-read demon knows, he pesters Lucifer to either let him go up to the human world to buy the necessary medicine or have the prideful demon go up himself

But due to his overbusy schedule, Lucifer pushed back the errand a handful of times

Few days go by and the symptoms worsen. They decide to stay as much as they can in their room and reduce their time outside as much they can to prevent further exposure…. and prevent a certain whit haired demon from seeing them in their state

So far, only 2/7 demons know of their predicament

Perhaps Satan takes the task to inform some of the others, or maybe he leaves them with the mystery (latter being most probable)

Meanwhile, Mammon feels conflicted, and a little sad

[Name] used to be by his side the whole time! They shared nightclub and casino adventures together! They got in trouble together! They went shopping together! They were birds of a feather!

Now, though? They’re running away from him after sharing the quickest looks

“Are their eyes red? They’re sniffling, with glossy eyes…” A sudden pang on his chest, “Ah… Did I hurt ‘em without realizing it?”

He’s scratching his head, thinking REAL hard where he screwed up. Nothing comes to mind

Last week, both of them were all smiles and laughter, casual hand holding and occasional cuddle sessions… What happened? What went wrong?

The 2nd eldest goes around pestering his brothers, in order of who he saw interacting with [Name] as of recent

It took all his energy to make Lucifer actively listen to him

“Yo, Luci! Am serious!! There must be something wrong with [Name]! Please please, listen this once!”

Something in Mammon’s tone alerted the red eyed demon. “Why such anguish? Speak, waste no time.”

“Ya see, they were all fine and cuddly with me last week, but-but now..! Haven’t ya noticed how they just… keep to their room all the time?! They barely come out! And i-it seems like they cry lotsa times through the day!”

“Cry?” Lucifer was mildly shocked by the word.

“Yah! Their eyes are red and teary, sniffles come from ‘em constantly and they’re always holdin’ napkins to their nose!” Concern furrowed the tan demon’s brows. “What coulda happened?”

That’s when Lucifer sighs in irritation at himself while rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s their hay fever… I forgot to get the medicines to help them through it…” He then tasks Mammon to go buy the supplies ASAP, no fooling around

Couple hours later, as they’re sneezing up a storm in their room, a knock calls for their attention

“P-Please don’t bother today! I’m not feeling so g-” Sneeze, “good…”

“Yo, it’s the Great Mammon! Better open up now before I kick down the door!”

A chortle bubbled up their throat, making them cough a little afterwards due to the itch there. “Sure thing~... but seriously, Mammon, please leave… I feel miserable”

Their lock clicking open startled them. Sure enough the Avatar of Greed was there

He let himself in and placed the small bag in their lap. “Lucifer told me… Sheesh, can’t believe he was this forgetful! Even after having Satan bother him a whole day to get this for ya he still forgot.”

Eye drops, antihistamine, a nasal spray… all with the correct active ingredients to treat the symptoms

Blue-yellow eyes softened once he saw their face brighten at the contents of the bag. “And some [fav. snack]! Aww, thank you lots, Mammon! You’re THE greatest one of all~!”

“Tell me next time, ‘kay? There I was thinkin’ you were upset at me and were cryin’ all day due to us being apart.”

A teasing smirk crossed their lips, “Were you worried~?”

Blushing, he admitted, “Y-Yes! And very m-much so!” He ‘tch’d and looked away from the embarrassment, “You’re a nice human to be ‘round, ya know? I missed spending time together…”

Instructing him to take off the jacket to lessen some of his pollen count, they proceeded to take their medicine and lay in bed with the demon to cuddle ❤️

From then on, they became more open to notify Mammon about any of their ailments or bad moods

Rest assured, he’s a sweetheart and becomes so gentle around them to help any way he can

Snacks? He’ll fight Beel for them. Medicines? He gladly goes up to buy those (just give him a detailed list of what he’s looking for, list the active ingredients) Alone time? The most he can do is wait outside their door, sorry lol A shoulder to cry on bc they feel so miserable, someone to squeeze as much as they need until they feel better? He’s more than signed up!

Once Mammon has warmed up to them, he will do all he can to make them feel better

May not be the best nurse, but his lungs and throat are potent enough to holler someone over to check you and help with those matters

He’s prone to panic when symptoms begin, but a quick reassurance can calm him significantly

Overall, someone nice to be taking care of you. Definitely brings more moral and emotional support than acting as a nurse or reminder of taking meds, but still much better than other people out there

-- -- --

Thank you for your request~!

Please do take lots of care, even more so now, to know if your symptoms are those of an allergy or another illness!

Hope you enjoyed~ ヾ(๑╹ヮ╹๑)ﾉ”

#March 2021 special #request pavillion #obey me #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #om mammon #mammon obey me #mammon #swd #obey me!#obey me shall we date #zack writes #soul cuddle

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kythed · 3 years

Text

free coffee & other perks

kuroo tetsurou x reader

synopsis: you work at the starbucks drive-thru where kuroo comes everyday demanding a free drink for his birthday. and, for some reason, you let him get away with it.

word count: 1,450

“Come on, it’s my birthday!”

“You’ve literally been saying that for two months straight.”

Kuroo lowers his sunglasses and flashes you a crooked smile, one hand resting on his steering wheel. You lean out the window of the Starbucks drive-thru, struggling to keep your apron from flapping up in the biting November wind.

“Go on,” he says, gesturing to the booth behind you. “Check my email. It says it’s my birthday.”

You can hardly keep from rolling your eyes as you reluctantly duck back in and pull up the membership tab on the boxy, outdated monitor beside the cash register. “Which email is it today?”

“[email protected],” he says, voice laced with barely restrained laughter. The corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly as you hit the keys one by one, taking your sweet time in a last ditch attempt at petty requital for his blatant rule-bending. “Might wanna hurry it up. There’s about a dozen other cars behind me itching for their caffeine fix.”

“You know, I really ought to report this to the manager,” you sigh. Kuroo just cocks his head and lifts his eyebrows. His smugness should annoy you, but that vaguely impish grin does nothing but send a multitude of butterflies swooping into the pit of your stomach.

How frustrating.

“You won’t though,” he says. He knows he’s got you wrapped around his little finger. (You know it too, but you’re a little less than willing to admit as much.) “I think I’ll have a dark roast, by the way, for my special, free birthday drink. Since you haven’t yet asked.”

Chewing on your lip (mostly to avoid smiling), you jot down his order, though you already know it by heart. “With two sugars, I presume?”

Kuroo beams. “You know me so well.”

“Not by choice,” you say, but you allow yourself the tiniest of grins as he begins to roll up his car window. “We’ll have your order ready for you at the next window.”

Two months prior, Kuroo Tetsurou, con-artist extraordinaire, had pulled up to the Starbucks drive-thru you worked at to claim a birthday drink. That in itself was not unusual, but then he had showed up again the next day.

And the next.

And the day after that.

For months.

As it turned out, he’d signed up for a Starbucks membership about a hundred different times with a hundred different emails and a hundred different birth dates, just so he could finagle a free coffee each day.

It was ingenious, you had to admit-- you were a little jealous you hadn’t thought of it first. Maybe that’s why you’d been so initially intent on thwarting him.

And you could have put an end to it, if you’d really wanted to-- but there was just something about him that made you want to see him again. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on it-- maybe it was the sly glint underlying his gaze, or that unruly mop of dark hair.

Or that stupid, hyena like laugh.

Whatever it was, you had begun looking forward to seeing Kuroo everyday, and you almost hated yourself for it.

Almost, but not quite.

Which is why, the next day, when he still hasn’t made his daily drive by two hours after the time he usually comes-- 9 o’clock sharp-- you find yourself wondering where he is, even as you take dozens of other orders. An iced matcha latte, a small Americano, a double espresso-- but no medium dark roast with two sugars.

By noon, you accept that he isn’t going to show up. Maybe he’s sick or something, you think as you lean back in the booth’s single squeaky spinning chair. You spin lazily, pushing one foot off the ground. Squeak. Squeak. Squeeeeak.

Or, says a tiny voice in the back of your mind, maybe he just found someone nicer to buy coffee from.

You groan and put your head in your hands, suddenly regretting the countless times you’d threatened to get Kuroo’s membership revoked, or that time when you purposely got his order wrong just to irritate him. Maybe you should have been a little more pleasant.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you almost don’t hear the revving of an engine approaching the drive thru until it’s right beneath the window. Shaking yourself from your self-imposed contrition, you scramble to put on your little green visor and your best customer service voice.

You pop your head out the window. “Hi there, welcome to Starbucks, how may I-- oh! It’s you!”

Kuroo grins and, against your wishes, your heart gives a resounding thump. “Someone’s rather excited to see me today.”

“N-no, I’m not,” you say, though your quivering voice gives you away. You can’t stop smiling, either-- damn it. “You’re just late-- I didn’t think you were coming.”

Kuroo presses his hand to his chest with a mock pout. “I’m touched.”

“Whatever,” you say, spinning a pen between your fingers. “Another dark roast?”

“Actually,” he says, pretending to read the menu. “I was thinking of trying something new today. Any suggestions?”

You blink. He’d never ordered anything other than a medium dark roast. “Uhh, well, I’m pretty partial to the vanilla iced coffee, but I don’t know if you--”

“I’ll get that, then,” he interrupts, smiling sweetly. “That and my usual.”

“You want two drinks? Your birthday scam only covers one.”

“Okay, for one thing, it’s not a scam,” he says, trying (and failing) to look offended. “I just happen to have a lot of birthdays. And two, I’m just gonna pay today.”

You give him a narrow eyed glance before shrugging incredulously and beginning to scrawl the order down. “Alright, well, if you say so.”

“Thank you,” he says. He clears his throat, voice taking on an oddly measured tone. “Also, uh, your shift ends in like twenty minutes, right?”

You look up, surprised to see his cheeks tinged with pink. He drums his fingers against the car window nervously. “Yeah, I do. How’d you know?”

“I, uh, I asked the girl at the pickup window yesterday.”

“Oh… why?”

Kuroo bites his lip before smiling brightly, tilting his head cutely like a 6’2” Shirley Temple. “Well, I happen to have two coffees coming my way, but I can only drink one. And, you know, the second one I’m purchasing happens to be your favorite. So, I just figured since you happen to get off soon, you could help me out.”

You stare, unable to register his words for a moment. Then it dawns on you. “Oh. My. God. Are you asking me out on a date? Is that why you came so late today?”

“What? No, no way,” Kuroo says, a wide grin betraying his words. “I just need someone to drink the extra coffee. With me. In a one-on-one environment.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a date.” You lean forward, resting your forearms at the edge of the window. Kuroo shakes his head with a laugh.

“Okay, yeah, you caught me. It’s definitely a date.”

“Ha! Knew it,” you say triumphantly. A soft breeze whistles through the drive-thru, lifting your hair from your shoulders. “Imagine that… the incorrigible Kuroo Tetsurou asking little old me out on a date.”

“What can I say,” he says with a shrug. “I have a thing for girls who bully me relentlessly. Unfortunately.”

“Yeah, that does kind of suck for you,” you say with false sympathy. Internally, however, your heart is throwing the biggest celebratory party it ever has, replete with confetti and champagne.

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “I gotta go; there’s someone waiting behind me. So… I’ll see you in like fifteen? In the parking lot?”

You pretend to consider for a moment. “Well… seeing as you’ll have a coffee waiting for me… I guess I could bear being in your company for a little while.”

“Oh, shush,” he says, shifting the car into drive. “I know you like me. You’re not slick.”

You can’t do anything but grin and shake your head as the car inches forward. He’s right-- you do like him. Probably a little more than you should.

“Make sure you’re still wearing the little hat!” he calls over his shoulder as he pulls away. “It’s cute.”

“Whatever you say!” you sing out as the next customer pulls up in front of you. When you take her order, though, the only thing you can think about is the impending not-date. A not-date with the bane of your existence, Kuroo “give me free coffee” Tetsurou. A not-date you are looking forward to terribly much... needless to say, you do wear the hat.

After all, it’s the least you can do for his birthday.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurō headcanons #kuroo tetsurō x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsurou

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redhairedfeistynerd · 3 years

Text

Slush and a Side of Toys

Part 1

A/N: I'm months behind on everything but here is my piece for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @sagechanoafterdark Winter/Holiday Festival Challenge. I chose #38 donating toys to children.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, angst, frustrated reader, swearing, alcohol

Words: 5800+

Part 2 will be up soon!!

Please like, comment and reblog. I appreciate it and thanks for reading.

All mistakes are my own

A reminder - my work is not to be reposted anywhere.

There’s a muffled humming coming from somewhere under a pile of paperwork and takeout containers on your floor. The sound is constant, piercing, and irritating. Eyes still closed, head pounding from an evening of too much wine and schmoozing, you reached down towards the sounds and ran your hands over the stack, following the vibrations of your phone. Once found, you yanked it away from it charging cord and used every ounce of energy you had, pulling the phone close to your face. Opening one eye a sliver to hide from the light, you read from the bright screen.

Hey, listen, I know we've had our differences the last few years but I think it's time we put all of it behind us. I saw Rosie the other day and asked her how you were doing but she kept it pretty vague. I hope to hear from you soon, even if it's only a text to say you’re doing okay.

Reading over the message a second time, in utter shock that he had the audacity to message you and pissed that he even dare ask your friend about how you were; you decided to turn off your phone and toss it into a pile of clothing on the floor.

What. A. Dick.

Rolling back over into your cozy blanket cocoon, falling back asleep, temporarily pushing away any thoughts of the man from your past.

The message was all but forgotten until later that day when a familiar song came on the radio and you couldn’t help but think about how you had both downed several beers at a pub and sang it at the top of your lungs. Maybe it had been a dream earlier and the text never happened. Pulling your phone from your back pocket, hoping it was all your imagination, you indeed saw that there was a text.

The ever-so-hard to escape blue eyed man, was trying to weasel his way back into your life and you weren't having any of it. Dropping the phone into the bag sitting at your feet, getting up from the desk, shaking out a bit to ease the tension that one tiny text had accumulated.

"Don't think about him. Don't think about him. Don't think about him," you repeated the words over and over, hoping to push all thoughts aside. In stocking feet, walking around the small hole you called your office and continued to shake it out. The calm didn’t last as long as you hoped, anger slowly creeping up and out.

"Stupid frikkin guy!! UGH!" The sound of your disgruntled cry, shook you a bit, the frustration clearly coming out louder than expected. "All right, settle yourself down, you can't let him have this sort of pull over you," hoping the self-talk would work, you ran your hand through your hair and walked back to the desk. "Delete it, pretend that you never looked at it and it will go away."

There was no way the struggle going on inside your head would even fathom deleting the text. Truth be told, as much as you cursed and hated the thought of him trying to slide back into your life, there wasn’t a month that went by without a thought of him crossing your mind. A song playing, a Romcom from the 90s, the pizza you both loved so much. Why couldn’t you escape him?

You shot off a quick text to Rosie, curiosity was killing you now, itching inside you, desperate to find out how the hell you had come up in conversation.

Y/N -Word on the street is that you ran into a clown I once knew; I’m curious what was said.”

Rosie: Oh no, he didn’t.

Y/N: He did and it was pathetic

Rosie: It was a super quick interaction. Both of us waiting for a coffee and being friendly. He asked about you almost right off the bat though. It almost rendered me speechless after what happened.

Y/N - So, that’s it? What did you say? Did you tell him how fantastic my life is going and that I probably wouldn’t even remember him?

Rosie: you and I both know, that that’s a load of shit. I’ve had wine nights with you, that man-child has never left that brain of yours.

Y/N Shut up.

Rosie: Really though, it was super quick. I said you were doing charity work and were still in the city, happy and healthy.

Y/N- good to know. I’ll just sit here and pretend his message never happened then. Carry on as usual.

Rosie: see you later this week?

Y/N Definitely, bye babe.

Placing your phone down on your desk, you continued opening your mail: thank you cards for volunteering, appreciation notes from parents and kids, and requests for you to help out at other groups around town. The next month would be hectic, with collecting the many donations from around the city. You had to finish training several new volunteers that would assist with wrapping, delivering, and presenting gifts to the charities and individual families that you helped support during the Winter months.

It became a mechanical process, opening envelope after envelope, that you weren’t paying attention to the return addresses. It wasn’t until you read the first few lines that the letterhead caught your eye and did it burn.

Blue-eyed monster strikes again via his mother.

You knew it wasn’t the case though, his mom, was offering a bursary to some of the kids you helped out and she was reaching out to you and other groups in the city to help.

It didn’t take much to pull your mind from work once you had read the Evans name on the letter. Bits and pieces shifted in your mind; you couldn’t fight it any more today. The letter slipped to the floor and you sat back against your desk, the memories that you had been pushing away, were flooding back.

It all started innocently about three years ago, bumping into one another around town, having several acquaintances that knew each other, and a tendency to make the other smile when the lamest dad jokes were thrown around. His face was incredibly animated and you loved the way his eyebrows would jump up while he spoke, there was mischief behind them that you wanted to discover. Even a quick peek, would ease the curiosity.

You recognized that laugh from across the room of the gallery – full of heart and genuine. Turning around, you spotted Chris mingling with other attendees of the charity event. You were here to help raise money for low-income families in the community that could not afford music lessons or music therapy for their children. The profits from the art sold this evening, would help buy instruments for the school that was set to open the following month. You knew Chris had donated and you had volunteered to help teach the parents with baby's groups every second weekend. It was the least you could do, you had a bit of extra time and needed to give back to the community that helped you and your family out during your childhood.

“How did I know you would be here?”

You must have zoned out thinking about that boisterous laugh that you didn’t see Chris walking over to you. You smiled as he leaned in wrapping one arm around you, a beer being held in his other hand. His smell was intoxicating – a mixture of orange and the woodiness of sandalwood. Would it be wrong if you pulled him closer to take a quick whiff before he pulled away?

He took his time moving back from you, winking as his arm shifted back to his side and lifting the beer to his mouth with the other, take a long sip.

“So, you out here to buy some art?” he asked, taking another drink.

“No, not buying tonight. One of the pieces is mine, I donated it to help out.”

“You have something up for sale here?” He questioned, taking a quick spin around to quickly look at all the art hanging around the gallery. “Which one is yours?”

“Oh, I am NOT telling you that. I think I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which one is mine. You can play the role of Sherlock Holmes.”

“Now, that’s just cruel.”

“Cruel? Nah. Mysterious? Yes. Are you up for a little game of 5 questions to help you out? If you can guess which one is mine, then I guess you have bragging rights because I haven’t discussed my art with anyone here. If you don’t figure it out, then I suppose it will be a mystery forever.”

“Oh, I KNOW I’ll be able to figure this out!” Chris says loudly, clapping his hands together and popping each shoulder up and down. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Here’s the deal, you ask me whatever you need to to figure out which one is mine. Obviously, you can’t ask which one is mine as one of your questions. Ready?”

“Ready!” Chris said enthusiastically. He took your hand and brought you to the front of the room to observe the first of the paintings. “Let’s take a quick gander and then I’ll start. How does that sound to you?”

“Whatever you need to do, Evans.”

Chris pulled you from canvas to canvas, still holding your hand as he inspected each piece. “First question. “Did you only use paint for the one you donated?”

“NOPE, next question, Evans!”

“Okay, okay, I got this,” he bounced around on the spot and turned his head to quickly glance over the works close to him. “Shit, I guess I should have asked if what you donated was a painting, right?”

You walk a circle around Chris “Is that your question?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

His blue eyes flick quickly to yours before he says, “Ya, actually...ya. That’s what I want to know. Did you submit a painting?”

“Yes, one of my paintings is hanging somewhere in one of these giant rooms.”

“You really don’t think that I’m capable of figuring this out, do you? Ye of little Faith,” he smirked and pulled you to the back of the dark room. “Any reason why it’s so dark back here?”

“Maybe that’s what the artist wanted?”

“Here’s question three then,” he said as he pulled you closer to him, your eyes looking into his as he asked. “Is you painting in the dark room?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

Chuckling, you take hold of his hand and lead him to another section of the gallery. “I don’t want you to miss any pieces, so take a look around here before you ask number three.” He squeezed your hand and looked up, the ceiling adorned with a beautiful piece; birds in flight but as they reached the furthest wall, the began to decay, until only single feathers remained.

“Here’s number three, ready?” He looked to his left where you were nodding your head back. “Did you mainly use your hands for this piece? I mean, instead of brushes or other tools.”

You were silent for a moment before answering, did you want to tell him how much of yourself you had put into this piece? That what the brushes couldn’t do, you did with your hands and arms? “I did. This one needed more than brushes.”

Chris smiled at you, “feel like telling me what else you used?”

“Not a chance,” you said, grabbing a glass of white wine from the tray passing by. “You want a glass?”

Chris held up his bottle, its content revealing that it was still half full. “I think I have a pretty good idea which one is yours, so these last two questions are going to be good.” With two large gulps, he finished up the rest of his beer. “So, what happens when I guess, do I get some sort of prize? Maybe you could paint me or something?”

“If you mean, could I dump a bucket of paint over your cocky head, then, sure!”

Chris burst out laughing, pulling you into him for a squeeze. “I love how you make me laugh and I bet you would actually do that to me. But really, if I do guess, what happens?”

You kept your body close to his, his arm still holding you close as you responded, “what do you think would be suitable prize, Chris? Do you want me to paint something, make you a prince? Maybe something of you and Dodger? Or maybe I could paint your like one of my French girls.”

“I would love one of your pieces, but if I win this, I’d like to take you out. Is that okay with you?”

Your grip tightened around the wine glass, trying not to let it slip to the floor. It was a shock, to hear that this man, one that you had flirted with for months, was asking if you wanted to go out with him.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, I... I didn’t expect you to ask me that,” you answered, fidgeting with your hands out of awkwardness.

“It’s ok, you can say no! It’s all right to tell me no.”

“No. No. I’d love that. If you can guess which one is mine, I will gladly go out with you. Dinner, drinks, walk – whatever you like.”

Chris placed his empty beer on the table closest to you. “Ready for my last two questions?”

“As ready as one can be.”

“Is your piece hung on the wall as a landscape?”

“Look at you Evans, you got another one.”

Chris rubbed his hands together, his smile wide and full, clearly showing that he was on a winning streak. “Here’s number four and then I’ll go right to the painting I think, the painting I know it is. Chris walked back and forth in front of you before turning to face you with his last question. You had grabbed another glass of wine and took a sip, waiting for his winning question. “Does your piece use more than black and white? – so many of these photos, sculptures, paintings are very monotone.”

“You’re good Evans and yes, I filled my picture with the rainbow. So, take my hand and show me what the answer to this mystery is.”

His warm hand took your free one and he walked you to one of the side rooms – this room was full of colourful pieces. You could feel the heat flushing across your cheeks and a thin layer of sweat formed at your hairline. Chris stopped and turned towards the back wall and pointed to one of the paintings. “I’m pretty sure this one is yours,” he said with a half-smile. “Am I right?”

You had wished, during those few minutes he had suggested that he take you out, that he would guess which one is yours. But what were the chances with over 40 pieces around you? You tried to keep your body from slouching before you softly answered “No. That’s not mine.”

The happiness in his eyes left quickly once you responded.

“Are you going to tell me which one is yours though?” He asked you eagerly.

“No, I think I’m going to keep that secret to myself. Thanks for the fun, Evans, I should get home. Another day of charity work for me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’d still like to take you out though, will you let me do that, please?”

“I guess we’ll have to see what the future brings,” you replied, giving him a little wink and a squeeze to his hand, you took one last sip of your wine before heading to the coat check.

Chris watched you as you wrapped a scarf around your neck and slipped your arms into the long, wool coat. Walking back over to him and wrapping your arms around him, it was a quick hug and he barely had an arm around you before you were stepping back. With a smile on your face, you turned and stepped out into the night. Chris watched as you turned right and glanced his way, your hand lifting up and into a quick wave. He couldn’t stop smiling and knew he had to see you again.

It didn’t take long for that to happen. You couldn’t get him out of your thoughts and dreams after the encounter at the gallery. He really was something; funny, compassionate, a hard worker, and you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly good looking.

After an event in town and a few drinks later, it was easy as pie, asking him over for dinner. He had initially thought you were pulling his leg.

Chris couldn’t stop laughing. "Oh ya, sure you want me to come over for dinner," laughing at your request and taking a sip of his IPA.

The pink that had flushed across your cheeks when you had shyly asked him was disappearing like an ice cube in hot soup. He picked up on the change immediately and apologized profusely. "I didn't think you were serious! You are serious, right?”

"Why wouldn't I be? It's just dinner," you shrugged. “I don’t see why you would have such a dramatic response to a simple question.” There was an awkwardness now and maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to come over. “Sorry, I thought since we kind of hand a friendship blooming and I tend to invite friends over...”

He took hold of your arm and pulled you into his chest, a big smile across his face. “I'll come by; don’t you worry. Which day this week works for you? I'll be out of state after this week for a bit, so hopefully something the next few days will work for you,” he said, squeezing you a bit before he released his hold on you.

Trying not to be awkward, you responded "This week will definitely work, tomorrow or the next day are open for me."

"Let’s go for tomorrow, okay? Would you like me to bring anything?” Chris smiled

“Be sure to bring the dog, he's the one I'm really inviting.”

"Well, fat chance of me coming by now, I see where your allegiances lie, " he said half closing his eyes and glaring at you in a teasing manner.

"Ok then, just drop the dog off, I'm sure he'll enjoy the feast."

Chris couldn't help laugh at the way you were carrying on with this charade. The half-smile that was currently on your face was one full of mischief and it was something that he had come to enjoy the last few times he had run into you around town. He could see a sparkle in your eyes, something that he didn’t notice before today and it was something, that he could get used to.

“A thought crossed my mind... what exactly would have happened if I had guessed right?”

“Since that didn’t happen, I guess you’ll never know,” you said with a shrug and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You sure like to tease me.”

“What exactly am I teasing you over?”

“The opportunity to be in your presence again,” he replied, a slight blush crossing his cheeks.

Finishing up your drink, you placed the glass back on the cardboard coaster and turned to face him.

“What the hell is THIS?” he asked grabbing at the green monster type thing that was hanging from a lamp in your living room

"That, is a flying frog - one of those weird ass dad gifts - he's always finding these peculiar creatures for me and I can't seem to part with them.

"It's sure ugly"

"You're ugly!” You shouted back at him and burst into the most beautiful smile he had seen cross your face.

"What are you, 12?

"Sometimes,” you replied.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh at you and pull you into a quick side hug. "You're a funny one" he feels you squeeze him back softly, a smile crossing his face at the quick interaction.

"I better go take a peek in the oven and make sure everything is baking the way it should. Make yourself cozy, I'll be right back." You looked back to him, pointing at the couches before turning and walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Turning you head back, forgetting to offer him a drink but his long strides had brought him right behind you quickly, almost colliding with your body. He tripped up a bit and moved his hand to your hip to catch himself.

"I want to see what you're up to in here, see what the chef is cooking up.” Chris resting his chin on your shoulder to peek at what you were stirring on the stove.

“You couldn’t sit still and wait for me to come back, did you miss me that much,” you teased.

“I couldn’t stand to be apart from you for a second longer.”

“That is the cheesiest lines, Evans. Does shit like that work for you?”

“What matters is, if it’s working on you. So, is it?”

You hummed, refusing to answer the question and carried on taking care of the food in the oven. Satisfied with how everything looked, you turned the timer back on and offered Chris a drink. Agreeing on wine, you pulled a bottle from the rack, passed the stemless glasses to Chris, grabbed his hand, and lead him back into the other room. Sitting on the larger of your two couches, Chris took a place beside you, taking the bottle from your hand, opening the bottle, and pouring you a generous glass before pouring his own.

“To friendship,” he said raising his glass

“To friendship, good food, and drinks,” you added and brought your glass to his, a quick clink, and sips were taken.

Dinner was ready within the hour and you both continued to chat while enjoying your meal.

“That was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time, thank you”, complimented Chris as he wiped his mouth with the napkin when he had finished his last bite.

The compliment brought the feeling of heat to your face and out of awkwardness you almost knocked your glass over as you reached for the wine.

“Want a refill?” You asked, holding up the second bottle of red that night. “You have good taste in wine, Mr. Evans, this wine is top notch,” you said, looking over the label of the wine he had brought with him.

Chris smirked and slid the glass to his left “I’m glad you think so, I’ll definitely have another. This should probably be the last one though, I feel like I’m overstaying my welcome.” He watched as you poured, your hair falling forward as the wine glass filled. “Cheers, thank you for the invite and many thanks for a delicious meal. You are constantly surprising me with your talents.”

“You aren’t overstaying. I’m enjoying your company and don’t want you to leave yet. Here, let me show you what I’m working on for this year’s event,” you said and pulled your phone out of your dress pocket and slid your finger across the screen. Shifting your body across the cushions toward Chris, you held the phone out towards him.

“What is it you are putting on this year?”

“Another charity event, it’s to help out the single parents that live in the community. I try to donate as much time to charities as possible.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“I want everyone to have a special holiday season, you do it. I see that you donate time and money to charities.”

“I have the means to help and giving back is extremely important to me.” Chris looked through a few more of the photos before placing the phone down next to him on the couch.

Reaching over to take her phone, Chris put his hand over yours and slid closer. “I know you always think I’m joking around with you when I say how much I love seeing you smile but I’m being 100% honest. Your smile is contagious and I feel like it lights up anywhere we are. It’s a beautiful smile and its part of why I’m so attracted to you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Oh shush, you!” you said pushing your hand into his chest, your smile wider than he had seen before. Again, he put his hand over yours and pulled you to him gently with his other hand. He brought you close, enough to hold you against him for a hug. He watched as your eyes tried to find a joke hidden in his face but you quickly realized that there was something else there. You weren’t sure who moved first as your lips met quickly enough that your teeth clacked together and you swore in pain.

“Oh fuck, only I would ruin an almost perfect moment. I’m such an-

He pulled you to his lips again, kissing you softly and trying not to laugh at the look on your face.

“Am I a joke to you, Evans?” you asked, kissing him back on the lips.

“Oh, not at all, I didn’t want to have to explain to people we know how I broke your teeth though. I mean, I could make up some ridiculous story about it, could be fun,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, bringing yourself back up to face Chris and pull him by his shirt towards you and kissing him without any stupid errors. You could taste the wine on him, the sweetness adding to the softness of your kiss. He took the lead, pulling you closer and slipping his tongue delicately across your bottom lip before deepening the kiss.

Your eyes opened when you hear Chris let out a soft moan, not expecting to hear such a sound from him before you could emit one. He did it again and you felt it all the way down your spine and into your soul. Your hands, still in idiot mode, found their way to his hair, and were quickly taking apart his well-coiffed hair by running your hands through it.

“How does your hair smell so damn incredible?

“How do you taste so fucking delicious?

You pulled back, staring him in the eyes “Hmm, maybe you need to taste a bit more, clean that palate of yours,” you teased.

“Are you implying...”

“Not implying, the buffet is open, sir. Dig in.”

Chris’s face went a light shade of red.

“Oh, did I catch you off guard, Casanova?”

“I mean, no... no...’ he stumbled, “OK, fine yes, yes you did.”

“Well, now that you know, let’s get back to business. All right?”

You took control, standing up, taking his hand roughly and leading him to your bedroom.

“I want you to take off my clothing, piece by piece. I want to see it on the floor and,” you said placing her finger on his lips, “no more talking,” you ordered.

“Anything you want,” he whispered into your ear and he ran his tongue down your neck so softly, that goosebumps raised over yours arms. His hands wandered from your shoulders and down your arms, taking hold of your hands and moving them to his belt buckle.

Looking up to him, he nodded, silently urging you. Undoing the belt and still staring into his eyes. Moving to unzip his jeans and push the button away, Chris was unzipping the back of your dress, the cool line of metal touching your back as he drew the zipper down the length of your back.

“You have goosebumps, do I need to warm you up?

“I’m hoping you get to that. Now, what did I say about talking?”

He smirked, pushing the dress down each shoulder until it dropped to the floor. Stepping out of it, you kicked it off with one foot, tossing it towards the wall. Chris’s hands were already roaming, his hands on your hips, fingers sliding into the thin elastic of your panties. His hands slipped across your warm flesh and directly to your cheeks, grabbing each one and squeezing, and pulling you closer to him. His lips were pressed into yours, his tongue back to searching for yours as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you to your bed. Gently, he sat you on the edge and leaned into you bringing you down to the mattress.

His kisses ran down your sternum and across the soft skin of your breasts while his hands ran across the tops, gently running his fingers over your nipples.

“Keep doing that, keep... keep touching my breasts, Chris.”

You could feel him pressing into you, his erection, warm and pushing against your core.

His hands squeezed your left breast while he brought his mouth down to your right, taking the nipple into his mouth, gently sucking it. Running his tongue around the bud, a chill running across your arms and a moan escaping your lips.

“I need to be in you now, please, y/n,” he said, kissing up your chest.

“In the drawer, condoms are there and hurry the hell up, Evans, I’ve waited forever for it to rain and fill up the well.”

He chuckled as he crawled over you, limbs knocking yours, a soft hand slapped across his ass, as you watched him open the nightstand drawer, which got stuck in his effort to hurry. “Come on Evans, you got this,”

“A little self-talk over there to get you motivated?”

Chris smiled as he held up the package and smiled at you before sitting on the edge of the bed to roll the condom down his hard length. He was on you again, returning quickly, his lips pressing against yours. His lips, wet and warm, pushed harder against your mouth as he pushed your legs further apart, taking himself in his hand, rubbing across your wetness and pushing halfway. The groan that escaped his mouth while his tongue continued to touch yours, sent a tingling sensation down your body.

“Chris, please...” you started to plead and before you could continue, he finished pressing himself into you with a grunt.

“Come on baby, show me how well you can move,” he said as he licked a strip across your neck.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and shifting your body against his, you let out a wail. Your bodies moved together, the pace quick, the sounds of your wetness echoing throughout your room.

“Listen to the sounds we’re making, baby,” Chris panted and drove deeper into you. His body was incredibly warm against yours, the sweat making his chest glisten in what light crept in from the hallway.

Chris slipped his hand down and his fingers met your warmth, crawling in to press against your clit. You clenched around him; a low moan escaped his mouth as he continued his movements.

“A bit more, a bit more,” you groaned, your back arching as Chris sped up. You looked up at him and reached your hand up to his face, holding on and staring into his blue eyes as you felt the tingling ball up within.

Faster than expected and with one last swipe of his fingers, your orgasm spread out from within. Your shoulders tingled, spreading down to your fingers as you yelped out, the warmth of pleasure flowing down and across your body. Chris had shifted to move into you, helping your orgasm along as his own shuddering began. His lips were pressed into your neck, your name crossing his lips as he slowed his pace, and leaned onto one of his arms. He continued kissing up your neck and met your lips, heavy breaths escaping from both of your mouths.

“You’re incredible Y/N. Incredible.” One more kiss was pressed to your lips before Chris sat up, heading to the bathroom. You watched the light turn on and the door close behind him. You rolled to your side; a smile of satisfaction crossed your face as you closed your eyes.

Your heart jumped when you were woken by blankets being pulled half off of your naked body. It took you a few seconds to realize that a man, a very handsome man, was sleepy peacefully beside you. Turning to face his back and shimmying closer, you pulled the blanket to cover your shoulders and back. His muscular back stared at you and you couldn’t help but raise your hand to the pale skin, bringing your fingertip to his warm skin and drawing lines to connect each freckle.

“You, know, that feels incredible, please don’t stop,” Chris asked, his words muffled into the pillows.

You continued using his back as your canvas; swans, sunrises, all the beautiful pieces of the world this man helped you see.

Pushing back into you Chris spoke, “I’m going to be away next week, so I’m hoping I can see you again before I head out of town?”

Your fingers drew the word yes on his shoulder in response. Chris turned over to face you, pulling you closer to him for a soft kiss. When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile and pulled him in for something a bit more passionate.

Bags packed and his dog set to stay with his family, he walked by the room Scott was in. “Hey, I’m heading out, the car is almost here. Give me a hug for the road.” His younger brother stood up and embraced him, giving him a few pats on the back and wishing him well for his short trip. “Will I see you when I get back or you heading back home?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be around still. Mom wants me to stay in town a bit longer. You okay if I’m still free loading off of you a bit longer than planned?”

“You know you’re more than welcome to stay,” he said as his phone chimed from his pocket. “Cars here. Take care of the fam and Dodger for me.” His brother gave him a smile and Chris grabbed his coat and carry-on from the table before heading to the front of the house. Dammit, he had forgotten to remind Scott again about what they had discussed earlier that day. “Scott, make sure you get that message to Y/N, okay? This schedule change was pretty last minute.” He shut the door before he heard a response from his brother. The driver held the door open for him and collected his bags to place in the trunk. He couldn’t get you out of his mind on the way to the airport; your smile, the scent of your hair, the warmth of your naked skin pressed against his. He couldn’t wait to be next to you again.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #writing challenge #ssholidaychallenge #redwrites

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jjuzoir · 3 years

Text

Homare Arisugawa General HCS

request: “Hi Sora! I never see any art/writing for my boy Homare from A3! (Maybe because his dialogue is so ridiculous.) Would you mind writing something for him?” from tlali

a/n: ahhh i don’t think i’ve ever taken so long in a request jdjdndnd but i just wanted to make it right because i love homare so much❕ he deserves everything and more i just HDHSJJA we need more homare love 🤬 his dialogue is hilarious and i feel like we need to appreciate his style more no more homare slander 🙅

word count: 1667

- He smells like earl gray tea. No one knows why since he uses unscented soaps, he says it’s probably because he spends most of his time drinking or around tea.

- He’s very particular about his hair, he uses very specific shampoos and conditioners that he will absolutely not share or change unless he notices his hair needs it. Talking about his hair, it’s naturally kind of dry so he uses a lot of hydrating products which leaves him with the softest, most fluffy hair ever. It’s like touching a cloud.

- One of his favorite gifts given to him is a tie given to him as a birthday gift by his members. Everyone pitched it, including Izumi, and Azuma picked it out. It’s black, much like his everyday tie, but it’s got a small embroidered snowflake.

- He’s got three main pairs of glasses; his everyday ones he keeps at hand when he goes out, his at home ones which are (according to him) less flattering, and his driving ones. Keep in mind he can’t drive, he doesn’t even own a car.

- He can speak french and latin, and he’s super loud about it too. He’ll sometimes slip in french phrases and no one will understand other than Chikage and it’s just a mess - Muku is always so amazed that he knows two other languages too and probably asks him to teach him sometime.

- Definitely has the prettiest handwriting when it comes to the roman alphabet, he writes in ink and with fancy pens that cost more than Banri’s tuition.

- Absolutely has a bunch of business cards printed out, each with its own quote made by him. Sakyo thought it was such a waste printing them until he realized that no matter how many Homare took when he went to run errands he always gave them all, to whom? No one knows.

- He’s very well respected in the literary community, which still shocks pretty much everyone. He gets stopped often by fans or people who’ve read his work, it happens at least once a day and Izumi really doesn’t… she doesn’t understand, poor girl.

- He’s not that good with phone calls, he’s not bad but he definitely prefers texting or just talking face to face. To him there’s just a certain level of discontent he doesn’t like that doesn’t exist in other mediums.

- His favorite shows are either comedies or heavy hitting detective shows, there is no inbetween. You’ll walk in on him watching a sitcom leave the room and walk in on a serial killer chase down.

- About his love for detective shows, his favorite pastime is trying to solve the mysteries with the main character. He’ll rewatch the episode so many times to try and pick up clues, he’ll take notes and come to a conclusion and he loves the feeling of getting it right.

- In the same spirit as the statement above, absolutely got Tsumugi and Sakyo hooked on some of his favorites and they hang out to talk about the latest episodes and the overarching mystery. The conversations can tend to get kind of heavy very quick, more than once Muku thought they were investigating a real crime and almost fainted.

- He looks like he’s probably allergic to wool sweaters, they make his skin itch and he always needs to use a shirt underneath them - so he tends to buy those expensive anti-allergic ones that need to be washed in a very specific way that could probably pay Tsuzuru’s whole college debt and it takes a lot of restraint from the playwright not to steal one and sell in the black market.

- Talking about Tsuzuru, he often gives him writing advice. Said advice tends to be very useful, like keeping a pen and notebook on him in case anything comes to mind during the day or writing daily to help ease him into a style, etc. Homare genuinely wants him to bloom into a writer and is willing to beta-read anything Minagi needs, be it a script or a sleep deprived rambling about the gay subtext in Nocturnity.

- Arisugawa sets himself reading goals each month, he likes to read at least one book. He prefers poetry books or classic english literature, but he also likes to read romance books or really bizarre dystopian novels.

- Has read more books than most people in the company and can give very detailed recommendations if you give him like a day.

- Sings operas in the shower, unless stopped he will keep going until the second act. Surprisingly good falsetto, but one time Tenma thought it was a Banshee for a second and almost cried into Juza’s chest.

- He’s not only an overly emotional drunk but also a loud drunk, he’s already quite loud but when he’s downed half a bottle of wine and a shot of vodka he’s louder than the Summer Troupe combined. Because of this, Izumi tends to restrict his alcohol intake when they’re at the dorm.

- I can see him being very big into musicals, not all musicals but a very specific niche; classic horror novels turned into musicals. He’s a very big fan of both the German and Korean versions of Dracula, his favorite song is probably “Zu Ende” or the Korean version of “It’s Over”. He also likes the Frankenstein musical too, but overall he finds Junsu’s Dracula more interesting thus his preference.

- He will talk your ear off if you mention any musical though, be it a classic like Phantom or something newer like Heathers.

- A very big fan of Ghibli movies, he told me so himself today. He really likes Spirited Away though, it’s a movie he’s watched so many times but he’s still completely enamoured by it; he probably has made the Winter Troupe watch it at least once and Hisoka definitely knows the beginning of the movie by heart now.

- Homare is also really good at drawing, not like Kazunari but he’s probably the second best. He learned by analyzing and looking at artists he admired and picking up on their techniques. A true Renaissance Man™️.

- I feel like he’d also have a bunch of skills that are kind of, useless? He can probably carve wood and make candles, he also took a course in glass blowing probably. Arisugawa just wants to try everything at least once, his motto is probably to explore and learn as much as possible, not just about art but the world (he can be surprisingly smart if you have a dictionary at hand).

- Very observant, just in general. Which can be both good and bad, it’s good because it helps him understand the situation in ways others might not but it leads to him to sometimes overthinking things and behaving in manners which may annoy or hurt others.

- He also has a hard time trying to react to social cues, as seen in game, with certain people. While he’s worked it out with the Winter troupe and the Mankai company he still struggles when it comes to new people.

- Will make little tunes he sings in the shower that kind of become a little daily song, each day there’s a new one he’ll hum.

- He also canonly makes music and he makes contemporary electro-pop, you cannot change my mind. He probably also mixes opera and classical music into his tunes, which can go from 1 minute to 10, so you end up with a very cool mix of orchestra and techno-pop - it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but he’s probably got his own niche group.

- Now, into more romantic HCs...

- He’s a good flirt, a very good flirt. They may sound weird looking back at it, but his pickup lines work and they work well.

- He knows when to stop pursuing someone too. He senses even a bit of discomfort and he’s backing away, won’t ask anything. Very big on consent and unless stated absolutely explicitly he’ll keep his distance.

- A true gentleman, please - he’ll never let his dates pay, always open the doors for them, will even do the “walk on the inside of the sidewalk” when he’s walking you home.

- His favorite dates tend to be ones where you get to know more about each other, not always necessarily by talking though. Being able to go into a bookstore and look at the books, seeing the ones you pick, what you pick at a cafe or restaurant, it all helps him draw a better picture of who you are and he likes to think it helps you get to know him better too.

- He’s very in tune with his S/O’s feelings but is afraid of overstepping any boundaries which may lead to some miscommunication at the beginning of the relationship. But it’s workable and it wouldn’t be that big an issue in the long run as long as his partner is willing to help him understand them.

- Not big on PDA, thinks certain things should remain inside - not to say he wouldn’t talk for hours about his partner to anyone who listens but things like kissing or hugs tend to be behind closed doors. He’s okay with hand holding and maybe a kiss on the cheek though!

- Likes wearing matching outfits with his S/O, thinks it shows how they’re “one in spirit, heart, and mind” and will not stop pointing it out to the point even married couples feel single as they hear him ramble on about the subtle coordination in your color schemes to create a perfect contrast.

- Notices the smallest things like how much sugar you like in your drinks, the telltale signs of when you’re lying or uncomfortable, how you act when you’re too cold or too hot, and learns it by heart.

- Homare is also the kind of boyfriend who’d confront the waiter if they get your order wrong, he’s not ashamed of it either.

- He kind of just wants to make sure you’re doing well and happy, he’s a gentleman.

- Damn… I love him so much

#—🎀 a3!#a3!#a3 #act! addict! actors!#act addict actors #homare arisugawa #homare arisugawa x reader #a3 homare #a3! homare #a3 homare x reader #a3! homare x reader #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #a3! fanfiction #arisugawa x reader #winter troupe #—✒️ sora’s scripts

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jonspurpleskirt · 3 years

Text

Sharing Comfort

A/N: This is for @archivalpride. Prompt was “Sharing Clothes” and “Pre-Canon” so I wrote a fluffy piece to celebrate the quiet moments of trust. 1.7k in word length. No warnings apply.

___

Jon did not make friends fast. Most people he found to be too intimidating, boring or exhausting and not many knew what to do with his sudden info dumps and sharp comments that shot out of his mouth seemingly at random.

He'd been alone in Research for a long while because of it and happily so. Things had changed when Tim had joined the Institute, though. Tim had come into the library and sat down opposite Jon with a thunder cloud hanging over his head and pain in his dark eyes. He'd been quiet and snappy in a fake cheerful way that screamed undealt trauma. At least to Jon, who seemed to be the only one to feel the vibes of "Leave me alone" and "I'm grieving" that Tim gave off in a constant stream.

Having Tim as his desk partner was an intense experience despite the way they only ever nodded to each other in greeting at first. But it was also intriguing. A mystery. Jon loved mysteries.

The instances he had ever willingly initiated a conversation with a stranger could be counted on one hand. Which marked the day he tapped Tims shoulder - after roughly two months of co-habiting - to tactfully ask him what he was groaning about as a very special day indeed. They steamrolled into friendship from there, both personalities clashing in the best ways possible.

Jon pulled Tim into nerve wracking research expeditions, Tim flirted them out of being arrested a few times, they went out for drinks and karaoke and movies and stayed late nights to crack nutty cases of supernatural bullshit together.

This went on for months. A nice, comfortable new routine. Jon wasn't alone anymore. And Tim broke out of whatever had pulled him down so much, becoming more cheerful and flirty by the day. Which didn't matter to Jon because Tim would always come to him the most, would always seek out to partner up with Jon and would defend his prickly personality to his dying breath.

And then Sasha joined them. She came from Artefact Storage, which made her a prime target for every curious researcher in a five mile radius. Tim and Jon included. Alright maybe they were the worst of the bunch.

Although Jon only thought of himself as a partner in crime in this one. He had been dragged along by Tim, after all. Sure in the end he had been the one to ask the most questions, but that wouldn't have been the case if he had just been left alone to be antisocial in front of his laptop.

Sasha and Tim, much to Jons chargin, hit it off within the first few seconds. And ever since then their cozy two-someness had turned into a group effort. With specially leverage put on the word "effort".

"Morning Jon!"

Jon let out a deep, rumbly hum, voice not up to the task of supporting words this late in the- He glanced at the little clock at the bottom of his screen. Ah... early in the morning.

With a laugh that was far too cheerful however you would describe the current hour, Sasha sat down next to him. She leaned in to look at what he was working. He leaned away to get her out of his personal bubble.

Her legs brushed his and the rustling drew his gaze downward. She wore a thick wool skirt, long enough not to go against the dress code. It was a somewhat dull navy blue and fell down in enticing waves around her crossed legs.

It looked very soft and comfortable. Jon itched to touch it. Instead he rubbed against the stiff fabric of his own cream coloured dress pants.

"Would you mind?" He snapped at her.

"No. You spelled 'aboriginal' wrong."

"Thank you for your insight. Don't you have anywhere else to be?"

"Don't you?" She shot back, light and quick as though they were just bantering and not fighting over the right to sit at this table.

Sasha huffed at his glare and slid a cup of something steaming over to him. "You keep staying so late that I can buy you a drink at the asscrack of dawn and be sure you're still here to consume it hot. I'm not usually one to judge anyone's sleep schedule. But I'm judging your sleep schedule."

"And yours is any better?" Jon muttered, taking the offering and peeking inside. Black tea with a bit of cream and hopefully enough sugar to rot his teeth out of his mouth. He needed both the coffein and the sweet energy source.

"I'm getting at least two more hours of sleep than you do on a daily basis, so I'm good."

"Tim would have both of our heads if he knew."

Sasha put her hand on the table and stretched out her pinky. "I swear secrecy if you do."

With a snort Jon linked their pinkies. "I'll hold you to that."

So... Maybe Sasha wasn't that bad. She was a little aggressive in her befriending techniques, Jon mused. At least he hoped the early morning chats and cups of tea and coffee were that and not an elaborate plan to get rid of him via slow poisoning. But she was about as curious as Tim and Jon and her skills with computers were very happily exploited by the both of them. So Jon eventually had to admit that she was actually a very nice addition to the group.

Not that he could have ever said no to their friendship. Tim and Sasha put together were a maelstorm of affection, sucking Jon in with a force he had no chance to defend against. And before he knew it they had successfully gotten him accostumed to friday nights at the pub and saturday mornings in their flats, smashed together on a couch or a bed or a mattress depending on who had had the misfortune of playing host that week.

Jon hadn't been this comfortable since Georgie. And that wasn't only the booze talking. It was one of those nights where they ended up leaving the pub early to lounge around Sashas massive sofa instead. Jons head was swimming within a blissful haze of tipsiness.

He was slouching over one end of the couch, head tilted just so that he could watch his two friends bicker. The words didn't really register, but the noise was nice and their expressions were funny.

Without his conscious saying so, his gaze slid down to Sashas leg area. She wore a very eye catching, fluttery red skirt this time around and the way the warm glow of the ceiling lamp was reflected in the material was mesmerizing.

"Oh Jonny boy, don't you know staring like that is rude?" Tim half-joked as he noticed.

Sasha slapped him on the shoulder. "Shush you there's like zero sexual longing in his gaze, Tim. You don't need to go all protective big brother on me. He just really likes my skirts."

"They look comfy." Jon muttered, sinking deeper into the couch.

"Awww. Jon. Jon my love. My friend. My buddy." Tim scooted over to him, nearly face planting on the floor in his eagerness to slide into Jons side. "Is this jealousy I hear?"

"No. Did you just degrade me from lover to lowest friendship tier?"

"Oh I beg to differ." Tim sang, ignoring the question and making Jon scowl harder.

An arm got thrown over his shoulder and Jon was tugged into Tims side, relaxing into the tight hold against his will.

"You know if you didn't make it a sport to buy the most uncomfortable clothing ever, you wouldn't need to glare at Sashas fashion choices all the time. Making other people think things about your intensions."

"Fuck other people."

Jon waited until the surprised laughter of his two friends ebbed down to speak again. "I wanna be comfortable too..."

"Say no more. Sasha to the rescue."

Tim and Jon both whined as she hopped off and darted away into her bedroom. She hadn't been part of the cuddle pile, but her presence was still dearly missed. Thankfully not for long because a few minutes later she reappeared with a long, purple skirt.

"Here you go mister. Go on try it on."

Trading places with her Jon didn't hesitate to shug his trousers off and slip the skirt on. Tim wolf whistled behind him and Jon dutifully showed him a finger. The yelp he heard shortly after told him that Sasha must have taken more direct approach to disciplining Tim.

"Bad boy. I picked that colour for a reason."

Jon flushed at the reminder that Tim and Sasha knew. That they knew and accepted him and even went out of their way to make him comfortable.

"I may not be allowed to touch, but I can still appreciate beauty when I see it."

"Do you need glasses, Tim?" Jon couldn't help but ask while he settled back down.

It was his turn to be slapped on the shoulder. "Nu-uh! No self depricating jokes in my household!"

"Yes ma'am." He scooted over to Sashas side, marveling at the slide of the soft material against his legs. "Anyway. Touching yes. But no sex, only cuddles."

Sasha laughed in delight as she pulled him closer so he could stretch out, the two of them nearly shoving Tim off the couch.

"Wait, wait, wait Jon you're definitely not comfortable yet!"

"Hm?" He frowned at the renewed shifting, jeez everyone was being so squirmy today.

"Dress shirt? Really? Wait a sec."

Tim ended up finding a truly attrocious night shirt he had stored in one of Sashas cupboards. It was rainbow coloured, but at least it was made of a soft cotton and about a size too big on Jon.

"Awww Jon you're adorable!"

"Timothy Stoker don't you dare take a photo."

"Fine, fine. But I will remember this day forever."

It turned out that he didn't need to. The next time they were over at Sashas Jon asked to borrow their clothes again and the next time after, and the next time after that, too. It kind of escalated from there, clothes mixed together until it was hard to remember who owned what.

And that was perfect. Because the most comfortable clothes were always the ones that belonged to his friends.

#tma #archivalpride #my writing #jontimsasha #jonathan sims #tim stoker #sasha james #week one #prompt: sharing clothes #hope i'm doing this right #can be read as friendship #or platonic polycule #i honestly have no clue where to draw the line #fanfic

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 5

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,300ish

Summary: Scott has issues with tampons. You get pulled onto one of Steve’s cases. (I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.)

Everyone was piling out of your car in the medical center parking garage. It was the early hours of the morning and it was time for your shifts. This morning though, Val walked in the bathroom while Scott was just taking a shower. She walked in in just a tank top and underwear, grabbed his toothbrush and began brushing her teeth.

“You don’t understand,” Scott continued as you all walked into the building. “Me gonads, you ovaries.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Val said. “We are out of tampons.”

“You’re parading through the bathroom in your underwear when I’m naked in the shower.”

“Can you add it to your list, please?”

“What?!”

“Tampons,” you clarified. “To the list, it’s your turn.”

“I am a man!” Scott yelled. “I don’t buy girl products.”

“Ooo,” Clint grimaced. “I wouldn’t say that if you don’t want to get kicked out. Besides, I bought them last time they needed some. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Still! I don’t want them walking in while I’m in the shower. And I don’t want to see them in their underwear!”

“It doesn’t bother me, okay?” Val said. “Look at me in my underwear, Scott. Take your time. It’s no big deal.”

As you walked into the hospital and headed to the locker room, you spotted Steve down the hall. You bit your check because how could a man still look that attractive this early in the morning? All dirty scrubs and patriotic scrub cap. You got changed into your scrubs before meeting Gamora at a nurses station. Your group of interns was in charge of pre-rounds today.

“You are the first person they see in the morning,” Gamora stated, explaining how you all should act. “You say please. You say thank you. You apologize for waking them up. You make them feel good about you. Why is that important? Cause then they'll talk to you and tell you what's wrong. Why is that important? Because then you can tell you're attending what they need to know during rounds. And why is that important? Because if you make your resident look bad, she'll torture you until you beg for your mother. Now get out there. I want pre-rounds done be 5:30 am.”

You all nodded at turned away, heading to your patients.

“I better get good patients today,” you told Natasha. “Yesterday, I had two guys with colostomies who needed dressing changes every 15 minutes.”

“I’m gonna be in surgery,” Natasha responded. “Today’s my day.”

“On what?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

You squinted your eyes at her. “What do you know?”

“I know that I was here at 4:00 and you didn't get here till 4:30.”

“Tell me.”

“No. I'm not the intern who's screwing an attending.”

“I am not screw—“

As you turned the corner, you suddenly rammed into someone. Their hands found your arms, steadying you. When you looked up, you saw Steve smirking down on you.

“I was just looking for you,” he said.

“Oh, really?” You sqeaked, quickly clearing your throat. Natasha simply rolled her eyes before walking away. “Um, why are you here so early?”

“I have a cordotomy at 5:00. I'll be out at 6:00. I thought I might buy your breakfast before your rounds.”

“I’ve already eaten.” You moved out of his grip to head down the hall.

“What’d you have?” He asked, following you.

“None of your business.”

“You a cereal person? Straight out of the box? Or all fruit and fiber-y?” He laughed. “Waffles? Do you like waffles?”

“Fine, leftover grilled cheese. Curiosity satisfied?”

“That’s sad. Pathetic, actually. A good day starts with a good breakfast.”

“Look, I don’t want to be seen with you in this hospital. Okay? It's unprofessional.”

“I’m just an attending getting to know one of his interns.”

“The intern he slept with.”

“I barely knew you.”

“And it should stay that way.”

“You want me to be professional? Fine. I’ll be professional.”

You stopped to face him. “That’s what I want.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get.” He stared at you, glancing at your lips, as he leaned forward towards you.

“You’re gonna to be late for your cordotomy.” Then you hurried away.

“Nice talking to you, Dr. Grey!” His eyes followed you until you disappeared down another hall.

“You’re whipped,” Dr. Stark commented as he passed by. “A complete and utter, lovesick teenager who happens to be—“

“Seriously?!”

~~~

After taking care of a few patients, Scott found you walking up the stairs in the stairwell.

“There needs to be some rules,” he said.

“So, what, you and Clint can walk around in your underwear and we can’t?”

“It’s not the same—“

“Or that you can see bras just not panties? Or are we talking Amish rules here? Because if you think you’re gonna get Val to—“

“The amount of flesh exposed is not the point. You have to do something. It’s your house.”

“Clint seems fine with it.”

“Y/N—“

“Do you like Val? Is that what this is about? Do you have a crush on her?”

“Val? No. I don’t like Val. No. She’s not the one I’m attracted to.”

“Not the one.” You smirked as you opened the door and went to the nurses station you saw Gamora at. “So there’s a one?”

“That—That’s not the point! Look, there just has to be rules. I need to be able to—”

“Lang, L/N!” Gamora called. “Get Barton or Quill and head down to trauma. Rogers needs you.”

“Rogers is in surgery,” you replied, confused.

“He got pulled before he could start.”

“Great,” you breathed out quietly.

On your way to trauma, you found Peter and unfortunately had to tell him to come with you too. Walking into the trauma room, you immediately noticed what was wrong with the man on the stretcher.

“This look like—�� You began.

“Nails,” Steve interrupted. He held up on x-ray that should 7 nails in the man’s head.

“I can’t see my hands,” the patient complained.

“He’s conscious!” Scott exclaimed, completely surprised.

“Breathe, Scottie,” Peter said. “Don’t pass out.”

“Use 4 mg’s of morphine,” Steve ordered. “Titrate up to 10. You know what? I don’t want him to move.”

“I can’t see,” the man repeated.

“It’s okay,” you comforted. “We need you to be very still, Mr…?”

“Castro,” a nurse answered. “George Castro. He tripped and fell down a flight of stairs holding a nail gun.”

“Sick,” Peter commented with a nod.

“Somehow he managed to miss a blood vessel. That’s a minor miracle,” Steve said. “Optic nerve’s been affected. Can you feel this?” Steve poked George’s right side.

“No,” George answered.

“Numbness on his right side. What’s our immediate concern?”

“Infection,” you responded.

“Right. I wanna be pulling these nails out in the next half-hour. I need a CT.”

“CT’s are down,” a nurse stated.

“What?”

“They exchanged them out last night. Computer's crashed; have them back up by 1:00.”

“So typical. So what are the options?”

“An MRI?” Scott suggested.

“No!”

“Brilliant, Scottie,” Peter said. “The man's got nails in his head. Let's put him in a giant magnet. You want films from three axis points and a C-arm in surgery.”

“Excellent! You guys dig up research and find out if this has ever happened before. Go!”

The nurses and Steve began pushing the stretcher away.

“My wife, my wife, my wife,” George cried.

“She’s on the way, Mr. Castro,” you said.

“Stay with him,” Steve told you. “Keep him calm and look for changes.”

“Ooh,” George gasped. “I can’t see.”

You and Steve shared a concerned look.

“Watch him,” Steve instructed. “Carefully.”

With a nod, you and the nurses took George to a more private room. You’ve been asking him questions to fill out his chart.

“Would you say that your health has been good recently?” You asked.

“Maybe some headaches,” George answered. “Nothing compared to now. Sally, that’s my wife. Sally, she’ll say, ‘why you think they call it a gun, moron?’ She hates the damn thing.”

“With good reason.”

“Baby?” A woman called, entering the room with Steve.

“Sally,” George responded.

Sally rushed to his bedside. “You are in so much trouble.”

Steve leaned in to whisper to you. “Get a history from her before you scrub in.”

You had to hold in the shiver that itched to be released. “…okay…”

“Thank you.”

You met his gaze. He definitely knew what he was doing to you, and enjoying it way too much. After asking George more questions, you allowed the nurses to prep him for surgery while you talked to Sally outside of the room.

“Will he be able to see again?” Sally wondered.

“We won’t know until the nails come out,” you replied.

“Did he tell you he takes photos? Beautiful photos. It's his hobby. I just got him a new digital camera now he can't stop, you know? He always has it out, always taking pictures of me.”

“George told me that he’s been having headaches. Can you tell me anything about them? Have they been recent?”

“Um, I’m not sure. Maybe the last couple of months.”

“Have you seen him experience any disorientation or dizziness?”

“Yes, yes, I have.”

“Okay.” You noted that in his chart, thinking that there might be an underlying cause to all this.

~~~

“Vertiginous or light-headedness?” Steve asked. You were telling him what you had discovered as he scrubbed in.

“Light-headed,” you answered. “Sometimes he’d have to brace himself to get out of bed.”

“Could be a million things. Simple orthostasis.” He noticed your face, still thinking about it. “What?”

“What made him fall down the stairs with a nail gun?”

“He said he tripped. Just because you hear hoof beats, don't assume zebras.”

“Something caused him to lose consciousness and fall down the stairs. It’s possible that he could have a tumor.”

“Look, I have no idea why this guy's still alive, let alone moving and talking. Not a clue. Let's just get him through this before we start digging around for something else.”

Steve entered the OR and you scrubbed in. The OR gallery was already jam packed with other doctors wanting to watch the incredible surgery. You held the tray as Steve pulled the nails out and set them in. The surgery took a few hours, which you were way too happy about.

“Do you see any bleeding, Dr. Wilson?” Steve asked.

“It’s clean,” Dr. Wilson responded. “Way to go, Cap.”

Steve laughed. “No, way to go team. Good job everybody. Thank you. I don’t think we made it worse. The big question is the optic nerve. But we’ll know in the morning.”

“Should I order the MRI?” You asked.

“He needs to stabilize.” Steve walked towards the OR door, tearing off his gown. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

~~~

The next morning, you, Val, Clint, and Scott were all getting ready for your shifts. Scott and Val were in the bathroom. Val was brushing her teeth in her underwear while Scott was showering, again.

“I reminded you before you went!” Val shouted.

“I forgot when I got there,” Scott replied.

“No, no.” She threw open the shower curtain. “You were so passive-aggressive.”

“Naked!” Scoot covered himself. “I am naked in the shower!”

“They’re just tampons, Scott. I really needed tampons.” You and Clint entered the bathroom. “I’m not riding in the same car with him.”

You began looking through the cupboards. “If you're going like that, you're not riding with me… where are the tampons?”

“He didn’t buy them.”

“You didn’t buy them?!” You and Clint repeated.

“Oh, man.” Clint continued, running a hand down his face. “Way to make both our lives hell now.”

“Men don’t buy tampons!” Scott shouted.

“You know what?” Val got into Scott’s face. “You are gonna have to get over this whole man thing, Scott. We are women! We have vaginas! Get used to it!”

“I’ve got you, girls,” Clint said. “I’ll run to the store during lunch or, if that doesn’t work out, after our shift.”

“Thank you, Clint,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re a life saver.”

“See, Scott!” Val exclaimed. “Real men buy tampons!”

~~~

After getting into scrubs, you made your way to George’s room. He was awake and talking. As you read through his chart, Steve joined you.

“Grilled cheese again?” He asked.

“Cold pizza,” you replied.

“You live a sad life,” Steve chuckled. “Is he awake?”

“Even better.”

“Really? Let’s see what his nurse says.” The two of you entered the room. “Hi, Sally, George. How are you this morning?”

“Tell them what color my dress is, George,” Sally encouraged with a smile.

“I’d know the answer to that even if I couldn’t see,” he responded. “It’s blue.”

“Can you tell me what you had for breakfast on Monday?” Steve asked.

“Cheese omelet. And on Sunday. And on Saturday. And on Friday. Sally gets up every morning and makes me a cheese omelet.”

“It’s the only thing he likes,” Sally said.

“It’s the only thing you know how to cook.”

Steve smiled as he wrote some things down in the chart. “Okay, well, things look good. But I am ordering an MRI for this morning to check for residual bleeding. Dr. L/N will take you down there right now.”

With a nod, you wheeled his bed down to the MRI. You got him set up before going behind the glass to wait with Steve.

“How do you think I’m doing?” Steve asked. You quirked a brow up at him. “With this whole professional thing? Is it working?”

“Not anymore,” you responded, looking at the screen. The scan began pulling up. “Look.” You pointed.

Steve turned to study it. “Damn. Yeah, right there.” Steve pointed to the scans. “That’s a tumor. It’s midline near the hypothalamus.”

“Shit.”

With a sigh, Steve explained the options to you before you two headed back to George’s room, to explain to him and Sally.

“Best practice, probably to remove the tumor,” Steve told the couple. “Probably because I can't get it all. 99%, but not all of it. Radiation and chemo, you're looking at maybe five to ten good years.”

“Let’s do it,” George quickly said.

“You haven't heard the downside. See, the tumor is located in a part of your brain where your memory and your personality resides. And because of the fuzzy edges of this type of tumor, I have to cut out a lot. George, you stand a good chance of losing your memories. Of losing who you are.”

“Is there any other way?” Sally asked.

“The alternative is gamma or cyberknife treatment with focus radiation. It's less evasive. There's little chance of memory loss or him losing himself but it would only give Jorge maybe three to five years.”

“Three to five years?”

“This is an incredibly difficult decision. If you have any more questions or you need to talk to me, I'm here, okay?”

They nodded and you and Steve took it as your queue to leave. It was hard decision that they needed to make. You don’t know if you’d let them cut into you at risk of your personality.

~~~

After taking care of some other patients, you found your way back to George’s room. Steve was just walking out of it.

“They want the surgery,” he told you.

“They want you to cut it out?” You clarified.

“Mm-hmm. It’s their decision.”

Steve left and you waiting outside George’s room until he was asleep.

“Sally?” You called, motioning her to meet you in the hall.

“Yes?” She replied, meeting you.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Yes.”

“You need to consider what you'll lose. What good is five years if he doesn't joke about your omelets and he can't remember seeing you in that blue dress?”

“It’s still five more years.”

“You don’t understand. He’ll be there, but we won’t be George. He won’t even recognize you.”

“This is none of your business.”

“You have no idea what this will do to you. Isn't five good years better than ten bad ones?”

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Steve questioned, coming back up to you.

“She needs to understand.”

“But I do understand,” Sally said. “You think that I'm being selfish, that I don't want to give him up.”

“I don’t.”

“This is George’s decision. And it that means ten bad years for me, fine. I'll give him those years because I will give him whatever he wants.”

“Look, I am so sorry, Sally,” Steve apologized. “Just please forgive her. She's an intern.”

“And if he doesn't remember me, if he doesn't remember what we are, he's still my George. And I'll remember for us both.”

“Okay, alright.”

Steve guided Sally back into George’s room, shooting you a disappointed look. You watched as Steve spoke the couple through everything again, making sure to keep your distance from the room. When he was done, Steve came back out, shaking his head at you in disappointment.

“You crossed a line today,” he warned. “It’s not your place to talk to patients like that.”

“Understood,” you stated, stoically. “I’m sorry, Dr. Rogers. It won’t happen again.”

As you walked away, Steve sighed, looking back at you. You went to the locker room, it was time for your shift to end any way. After you had changed and packed up your things, you turned to head out and saw Steve leaning in the doorway. He looked nervous, in his street clothes with his hands in his pockets.

“Look,” he started, “I’m sorry about—“

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted. “I was out of line. Understood.”

Steve gave a nod. “Right. Well… uh… I came… well, I occasionally eat breakfast at this small place on Broadway. I was wondering if you’d join me in the morning?”

“Really, Steve? Don’t you understand that this is wrong?”

“It’s just a breakfast. Two friends meeting up for a meal.”

You sighed. “Where and what time?”

He grinned, straightening up. “The Broadway Cafe, let’s say 7?”

You headed through the door way. “I’ll think about it,” you said as you passed him. “Good night, Dr. Rogers.”

“Think about it?” He rushed after you.

“Yes, I’ll think about it.” You stepped into the elevator, turning around to face him. Steve didn’t enter. “We’ll see in the morning.”

Steve gave a small smile as he shook his head and the elevator doors closed.

“Shit,” he realized quietly. “Maybe Stark is right. I’m whipped.”

“Did I just hear you say that Tony’s right?” A strawberry blonde woman came up beside Steve. “Please don’t tell him that, he doesn’t need a bigger ego.”

“I definitely won’t, Pepper. He’ll never let me live it down.”

“No, he won’t.”

“But you should listen to him. Go out with him.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sadly, I am.”

Pepper clenched her jaw, studying Steve for a second. “Alright, I’ll give him a chance. How bad could it be, right?”

“How bad could what be?” Tony asked, coming up to the other two doctors. “Good evening, Rogers, Pepper. What are we talking about?”

“Oh none of your never mind,” Pepper responded. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

As Pepper left, Steve watched Tony watch Pepper walk away.

“I think we both might be screwed."

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #tony stark x reader #pepper potts x reader #gamora x reader #scott lang x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #clint barton x reader #valkyrie x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #Marvel AU #greys anatomy au

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darriness · 3 years

Text

Klaine Fic - Title: Field Day

Author: darriness

Word Count: ~1500

Summary: A chance to volunteer

Author's Note: For @tchrgleek who prompted "Prompt for your A Life in a Year verse: a 100 degree day in NY and one (or both) of them is supposed to volunteer for Field Day at school." Hope you like it!

AO3 Link

Field Day

“Whose idea was this?” Kurt pouts as he stands in front of the mirror, smoothing cream onto his face.

Blaine chuckles as he comes into the bathroom behind his husband. He rests a hand on Kurt’s lower back and smirks at him through the mirror, “I believe it was yours.” Kurt rolls his eyes, “And I also think you’re not supposed to use an entire bottle of sunscreen in one sitting.”

Kurt side eyes Blaine with a sigh, “Says the man who goes so golden in the sun he’s been mistaken for a Greek God on more than one occasion?”

Blaine shrugs with a little smile. Kurt pouts at the golden shoulder peeking out from underneath Blaine’s tank top as it settles back down, “Your skin mocks me.”

Blaine leans in and kisses Kurt’s creamy pale shoulder peeking out under his own tank top, “My skin loves you.” He whispers.

Kurt wants to stay annoyed, but he can’t help but giggle at the line.

Blaine smiles, always happy when he can get Kurt to laugh, before pulling back, “Are you ready now? The kids are practically vibrating to leave.”

Kurt turns back to the mirror, swiping a hand under his eye one more time even though no visible cream remains, before nodding, “As I’ll ever be.”

-- -- --

Kurt regrets his decision to volunteer them both for the kids’ school Field Day the more the day wears on. Not only is he sure he’s burning despite his careful sunscreen application, it’s at least 100 degrees out and his sweat has sweat. To top it all off, he’s about two minutes from throat punching half of the other parents here for eyeballing his husband like they want to eat him for dinner.

Blaine and Kurt got separated to different events upon their arrival and Blaine is within eyeshot but across the field, helping to run the toss across station. Kurt will admit to enjoying watching his husband move around in the sun from his spot helping to run the obstacle course - Blaine’s skin is shimmering from a light sheen of sweat and watching his muscles shift as he bends to pick up the tossed beanbags has been magical - but if one more school mom (or dad for that matter) finds a reason to approach Blaine and lingers too long Kurt is going to lose it.

“Papa!” Kurt turns away from watching Blaine to watch Matty approach at a sprint. Nash is at his heels and Kurt can’t help but smile at how happy they both look. He’s glad they’re enjoying the day.

“What’s up, buddy?” He asks, pulling the slightly sweaty 6-year-old to him for a quick hug when the boys reach him. He briefly thanks whoever or whatever is responsible for Matty still wanting to hug him in public. Lizzy, at ten years old, has shunned public hugs for at least a year now.

“Can I have a slushie?” Matty asks. His nose is beginning to pink under his hat and Kurt itches to put more sunscreen on his pale skinned offspring, but while public hugs are okay, sunscreen application is less so. He’s glad they were able to get ANY on Matty this morning.

Kurt squints an eye at his son, “Did you already ask and get one from Daddy?” He asks skeptically. He knows for a fact Matty hasn’t been to Blaine, but he doesn’t want to admit he’s been watching Blaine that closely.

“No!” Matty protests.

“I don’t know...” Kurt says slowly, “Stick out your tongue so I can see.”

Matty proudly juts out his pale pink tongue, untouched by sugary tongue staining syrup, and Kurt laughs.

“Alright, you can have a slushie.” He concedes, pulling his wallet from his back pocket, “Do you want one too, Nash?” He asks. Nash may not be his son, but with Rachel and Jesse not here (he still doesn’t know how they got out of this) he feels a certain responsibility for their son.

Nash bounces on his toes and nods with a grin so wide Kurt can see several spots where the 6-year-old has lost teeth, “Yes, please, Uncle Kurt!” He asks politely.

Kurt gives both boys the money they need to buy their drinks and then they are both gone. He chuckles to himself as they scream ‘Thank you!’ over their shoulders. He turns back to the obstacle course he’s supposed to be helping run but as his eyes scan over the rest of the field he pulls up short when he notices Blaine not where he last saw him.

There’s another dad where Blaine was just moments before and Kurt frowns, eyes scanning the field for his missing husband.

“Break time?” Kurt jumps slightly at Blaine’s voice behind him and spins to find his husband standing by the beginning of the obstacle course. He’s got a sweet smile on his face and he’s extending a juice box in Kurt’s direction. Blaine shrugs, “I almost chose water but I figured the sugar is good with all the sweating we’re doing.”

The slight pinking of Kurt’s cheeks now has nothing to do with the sun. It’s a simple juice box, offered with a smile, but it still causes Kurt’s heart to swell a little more with love for this man.

“Thanks.” He says, reaching for the box. Blaine had already popped the straw into the hole so Kurt immediately brings the box to his lips and sucks as the pair walk slightly away from the obstacle course area.

“Having fun?” Blaine asks as they walk.

Kurt nods but he tilts his head from side to side slightly at the same time, “It’s way too hot for this, but it’s been fun to see the kids having fun.”

Blaine nods, taking a drink from his juice box, “Lizzy even let me high five her in front of her friends.”

Kurt laughs, he’d seen that, “I’d call that a success.”

Blaine nods again and then the pair is quiet as they continue to walk slowly and drink their juice boxes. Kurt’s is almost empty when Blaine stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Can you...do me a favour?” He asks.

Kurt’s eyebrows go up at the seriousness of Blaine’s tone. Blaine almost seems to be wincing, as if he doesn’t want to ask whatever the favour is, but his tone also tells Kurt that it’s something he can’t NOT bring up.

“Of course.” Kurt says, wondering what could possibly have Blaine in this sudden mood.

Blaine sighs and looks away from Kurt to look over the field, “Could you maybe not...wipe your face with the bottom of your shirt anymore?”

Kurt pulls his head back in surprise. That is not at all what he was expecting Blaine to say, “What?” He says. Had he been doing that? He hadn’t even noticed. He’s not wearing anything fancy today so he figures maybe he’d done it once or twice. It IS really that hot out today. But why would Blaine want him to stop?

Blaine winces again and then sighs, “It’s dumb and neanderthal of me but...the amount of parents watching you like they want you for dessert is really starting to get to me.”

Kurt almost chokes on his tongue and then suddenly he’s laughing. Laughing so hard he’s doubled over with his hands on his knees.

“That’s...not the reaction I was expecting.” Blaine says slowly from above him.

Kurt eventually quiets his laughs and straightens up with a sigh, “Oh, honey, we are quite the pair.” He says.

Blaine’s eyebrows furrow and Kurt smirks at his oblivious husband - though...he figures he’s one to talk at this moment.

“I have been wanting to get violent with half the parents here for checking YOU out all day.” Kurt clarifies.

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up behind his sunglasses and his mouth drops open slightly, “Oh.” He says. Kurt nods and it’s Blaine’s turn to laugh, “I didn’t even notice.” Kurt shrugs, “I just know I wanted to throttle Keith’s dad.”

Kurt smirks and swings his eyes in Keith’s father’s direction. He shrugs again and curls his lip slightly, “He’s cute but...then I’d have a stepson named Keith.” He whispers the last part with a shudder and he and Blaine laugh quietly together.

They’re quiet for a moment after that and Kurt finishes the last of his juice box before sighing, “So, no more wiping my face with my shirt. Got it.” He says. He probably should stop anyway. It’s so unlike him to treat his clothes that way. Maybe the heat and sun are causing him to be delirious.

Blaine scrunches up one side of his face, “You know what,” He starts, “On second thought, don’t worry about it. Keep doing it. At the end of the day, you’re still coming home with me.”

Kurt nods, “And you with me.” He says.

Blaine smiles, “They should be jealous of us.”

Kurt smirks, “Oh, honey, there is no ‘should’ about that. They are DEFINITELY jealous of us.”

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #my loves #my stuff #field day

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

When they met Jake had a mop of hair (still looked cute) but then he got it cut and went from cute to HOT AF wonder what Amy’s reaction to that was 🤔🤔 or what her reaction to first time seeing him in a suit (suit Jake can step on me)

(gonna smush those together and add the awesome triple Ask part 2, "Amy realizing how hot Jake is early in their friendship like a moment of realization and then it won’t get out of her head)

also, Jake’s suit: like this

and Amy’s dress: like this but in blue

for your imagination pleasures :D

He was cute in a dorky kind of way, she had to admit even before she ever dared to think she might like him.

Well, she didn't exactly have to admit that to anyone, because no one really asked (except for Kylie, who only got a shrug and an eye roll when she inquired about her new co-workers). But she kind of admitted it to herself, whenever she caught a glimpse of his mop of hair bobbing past her desk with a new file, or leaning over her when they were discussing a new case. He was kinda cute.

Annoying and childish and boisterous and a pain to work with, but... in a cute way.

It made no difference to admit that, anyway. It didn't matter. They were co-workers, and that's it. She wasn't here to make friends - especially not with someone as wild and career-hobbling as him. She’d made that decision before she even came to the 99, and it wasn’t going to change.

-*-

He came in with no curls left at all six months into their working relationship, about a month after she’d also admitted to herself that maybe she wasn’t intentionally here to make friends, but had accidentally ended up with a strangely loyal one.

“Good, right?” He grinned at her with a proud double-pointer to his head, sitting or rather plonking down into his chair across from her while she tried to pry her eyes from him. She had been staring the whole way from the elevator to their desks, but maybe it wasn’t too late to hide that.

It was a bit harder to hide the blush that started at the top of her ears, but she cleared her throat quickly to pull his eyes away from that.

“That’s quite a change.”

“Yeah, Gina set me up with one of her stylist friends. Didn’t work out, but, uh, guess I got something out of it. Which is probably what she was planning for anyway.” He shrugged, answered with a resounding “Uh, duh!” from behind Amy before he stuck his tongue out at the childhood friend she was separating him from.

Something in her face twitched at the mention of another one of his dates - he seemed to be going on a lot of those, and he had no qualms telling everyone so, even though he never elaborated. Why it made her stomach drop a bit every time, she wasn’t quite so sure. Probably because it was so unprofessional to discuss at work, and she was already toeing the line too much joining in with some of his jokes and pranks. He swore McGinley didn’t give a damn, but she was sure she’d seen their captain’s disapproving stare through the half open blinds the last two times Jake had pulled her up from her desk for something definitely not police-related.

Jake was still low-key squabbling with Gina over her head, so she could slip out of that conversation easily, focus on the files she was working on before he came in looking like that, disrupting her… everything.

“It looks good.” She said instead, cursing herself for opening her mouth the second it closed again, but continuing. “Frames your face much better.”

The infighting stopped, and she could feel Gina’s stare burn into the back of her head. But far more pressing was the look Jake was giving her now, a short blink of… surprise, maybe, before his face broke out into a grin that wasn’t half as goading or over-the-top as usual.

“Uh, I, mh, thanks.” He mumbled, quickly staring down at the files he’d left open yesterday before he left, and she almost thought she could see a blush on the tip of his ears now, finally visible without being hidden underneath all that hair.

But that was surely just her imagination.

-*-

A very overactive imagination, she sighs as she stands in the copier room. An imagination that couldn’t stop staring at him throughout the day, at the way his profile had changed so much now without those curls always in the way, at the short hairs on the back of his neck, her fingers itching to run through them to find out if they’d feel soft or bristly. An imagination that refused to go back to the simple description of ‘cute’.

“I see you, Santiago.” A terrifying voice behind her interrupts her, and she’s glad her files are already in the copier so she can’t throw them at Gina in shock as she turns around to face her.

“What?”

“I see you, staring at my boy.” Gina points two fingers from her eyes into Amy’s direction, a grin breaking out on her face that almost rivals the ‘boy’ she’s talking about. “Getting the hots for the class clown? Gonna go smoochtown on my little bro?”

“As if.” Amy scoffs, maybe a bit too loudly, shaking her head a bit too much. “We’re talking about the same guy here? The one who claims that jelly beans have 4 calories each, so eating 500 a day should fulfil his caloric needs?”

“Uhu.” Gina seems bored now, which is not unusual for her whenever she’s talking to Amy, staring at her fingernails instead. “Keep trying to delude yourself with those negatives, poor girl. Just channel all that unfulfilled desire into some boring paperwork. I’ll be waiting for the day you snap and tear his clothes off right at his desk, so I can be out sick that day and not have to witness it.”

“I’m not going to-” Amy tries to protest, but Gina has already hopped out of the room, her hair bouncing behind her as she gives a wave and leaves her behind with a growl.

She’s not. She’s not going to do anything. There’s nothing to do something about. There- it’s- he’s-

She’s allowed to think someone looks attractive without immediately devolving into sexual thoughts or interest. She can think one of her friends is good-looking without making that weird. She can… she can admit that Jake is her friend and that Jake is attractive and it doesn’t change anything.

It doesn’t.

-*-

They’re all standing in front of the precinct, half shivering because of the wind swiping through their legs, and Amy curses whoever’s idea it was to meet up there instead of straight at the NYPD party two blocks down. We’re supposed to show a unified front as a squad, she remembers Terry saying, arriving together will help with that.

Well, they apparently won’t even start off together, because they’ve been waiting for Jake - of course, who else? - for close to 15 minutes now, and none of their messages were even answered. (Amy duly noted that hers were actually the only ones signed off with a ‘read’ notification, but she couldn’t think too much about that now, not while she was freezing in a dress she was still worried might be too low cut for a work event, even while Rosa next to her was sporting the most amazing little black dress she’d ever seen.)

“I swear to god, if Peralta isn’t here in 5 minutes, I’ll-” Terry is interrupted in his rant by a far too familiar voice sprinting at them.

“I’m here! I’m here.” Jake coughs a little as he comes to a stop and leans forward, hands on his knees, before standing up with a wide grin as if nothing happened. “I’m here! Let’s go! What are we waiting for?!”

Terry gives him the most dead-set stare he can muster before the group starts moving, all eager to finally get to a place that not only offers free drinks and food, but also heating.

Amy falls back a few steps, fighting with some uncomfortable heels she also should’ve rethought as much as her dress, and finds herself next to Jake, who’s apparently still trying to catch his breath from his run to the precinct. At least that’d explain the little gasp and baited breath as she bonks against him in her next stumble, and finds she’d rather like to stay there - on account of him being warm, of course.

“Geez, Santiago.” His arm wraps around her, suddenly, an even warmer hand rubbing up and down the thin sleeves of the stylish yet impractical soft coat she’d picked. “If you know you run cold all the time, why don’t you bundle up for the weather?”

Because bundling up doesn’t look good, she thinks with a sigh. Bundling up doesn’t leave an impression with the captains at that party. And because, maybe, Kylie had been a little too convincing about her online shopping cart after two glasses of wine each and clicked Buy before Amy could stop her.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to spend more than 5 minutes out in the cold today, but we had to wait twice that for you.” She bites back instead, and hates herself for it, because it makes his wonderfully warm arm drop from her side almost immediately.

“Sorry.” He mumbles while staring at the ground. “Hey, you want my coat? It’s fresh dry-cleaned, I promise.”

“I didn’t know you even owned anything but that leatherjacket and at least twenty similar hoodies.”

“Yeah, it’s my grown-up nice jacket I only wear for special events.” He decides to ignore her dig, stroking down the soft grey wool with a strangely proud grin before unbuttoning it. “Here, put it on. Pre-warmed.”

She can’t protest anymore before he slips it over her shoulders, and it is incredibly warm and soft, but that’s not what freezes her mind entirely.

Jake’s in a suit. That much was to be expected, considering the event they were going to specifically asked for it, but it only now dawns on her that she’s never seen him in a suit before, not accounting for his dress blues. And what a suit. It’s dark green, emerald, she thinks it’s called, a colour that works perfect with his light brown curls (slightly grown out again), and there’s- there’s a waistcoat involved, and a pocket square, a navy blue coloured pocket square, and she realises it’s the exact same shade of blue as her dress, and her mind can’t even focus on how the cut of his suit seems perfectly tailored around his waist while thinking about that, until Charles’ wolf-whistle pulls her out of her fugue.

“Hot damn, Peralta.” Terry nods next to him. “Didn’t expect you to make the effort, to be honest.”

“Gina has this friend who works at a tailor.” He coughs, and yes, there is definitely a blush on his ears now. “Plays himself as a bit of a stylist, but I think he went overboard.”

Charles “Nuh-uh!” mixes with Rosa’s “Why does Gina keep trying to hook you up with horrible people”, and almost overshadows Amy’s “Do you make any fashion choices that aren’t basically Gina-led?”

“Because she’s Gina.” Jake shrugs and seems to answer both Amy and Rosa with that, staunchly ignoring Charles for the moment, which is probably his best bet.

Amy wants to shoot something back, anything, to keep her mind off of that suit and her eyes from staring, but she can’t. She’s glad she has to look forward as they move on, though, focusing more on not stumbling on the uneven pavement with Jake’s warm, heavy coat over her shoulders.

So he looks good in a suit. That’s fine. He cleans up well. Lots of men do. Terry is wearing a nice suit, too. So’s Charles, she has to admit.

But neither of them pull at the seams of her mind like his does. Neither of them makes her wonder how it feels to let her hands slide down his lapels, maybe grab them midway and pull him forward-

The two block walk is far too short to cool her down again, especially with that cursed warm jacket around her, smelling so much like him and his unusual cologne that he’s definitely never worn to work before, but that will be burned into her nose for a while now.

-*-

He helps her slip both his and her jacket off at the coat check, and there seems to be a short moment where he almost drops hers as she turns around again, his eyes rushing up and down her wrap dress, sporting a cleavage and a high slit that really can only be explained by two glasses of wine and Kylie. At least the sleeves are long enough to not make her freeze anymore now that she’s inside.

“Wow.” He mumbles even as she begins pulling at said sleeves, adjusting the collar that already feels like it’s dropped too far.

“I know, it’s too much, my friend-”

“Too much?!” He interrupts with a stare. “Ames, you look-” He seems to be grasping for something to say, and she can see a flash of a lot of words across his mind before he stares at the ground again for a second to find himself. “Good. You look really good.”

She smiles as her eyes drop to the ground as well.

“Thanks. You look good, too.”

He snorts, before lifting his arm in an inviting gesture, and she doesn’t want to rethink it too much as she slips her arm into the hook of his elbow.

“Well, let’s go look good together then.” He says, and yep, she’s definitely rethinking all of that. For the whole evening. Every time he catches her eyes - she’s not staring, she’s not - and smiles at her. The first time he points to his pocket square, mouthing We match! with almost childlike glee in his eyes. The following five times he does it. Even the one time Charles points it out as they find each other in their little group again, met with a round of sighs and a disgruntled “No, Charles” from Jake himself.

She thinks about it - and about him, and that suit - when he picks up their coats, both swaying and giggling just a little from the free champagne.

And then she thinks about something a bit more, when he slips his jacket over her shoulders immediately, his hands gliding over her bare neck for just a second, the scent of his cologne from the collar only strengthened by the scent of him right behind her.

So he’s cute. So he’s attractive. So he looks amazing in a suit.

So she might be a little bit attracted to all that.

It still didn’t change anything.

-*-

what r u wearing 2 NYPD party, he texts her a year later, and she crinkles her nose at his appalling writing.

You know how to write proper English, I’ve seen your reports. She texts back, and then… Why do you want to know?

Thought it would be fun to match again. comes the well-written answer, and she stares at it for a good ten minutes before finally answering.

Green chiffon.

She was going to change her mind about that dress Kylie helped her pick again, but she won’t. Not now.

-*-

What r you gonna wear babeeeee, he pesters her with the 5th message about it in as many days, ever since she sent him the reservations info for their first anniversary dinner.

I told you it’s going to be a surprise.

Not fair! How am I supposed to match?! She grins as she reads it.

Won’t look good on you if you can’t figure that out, detective.

-*-

“I knew it!”, he grins at her wide at the bottom of her stairs as she descends in her navy blue wrap dress, glad it still fits after years in her closet.

“Easy enough for you to say. You probably have a whole colour range of pocket squares ready.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, reaching for her hand on the last step already, his other hand unbuttoning the same ‘grown-up nice jacket’ she knows so well by now. “Look?”

She lets out a happy laugh as she’s met with his emerald green suit jacket, a memory burned into her mind for probably forever.

She’s so glad he never changes.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

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zehecatl · 3 years

Text

rec post for @f-eef that got too long for its own good, and is now just. a general rec post i guess

(as of writing, today is the steam summer sale! writing this before that goes live, so no guarantee everything on here is on sale, but! most of these are older games, so it’s likely. keep them in mind~)

- Iconoclasts my absolute favourite game, ever (along with OFF, but shh), if you check out one game from this list, let it be this one. it’s a genuinely almost flawless package, with gorgeous pixel art, fun gameplay, a really good story, and a cast of characters i just. adore. it’s so so so good, and three years later, i’m still not over it

- The Binding of Isaac so there’s this genre called roguelikes, wherein the whole gimmick is that, when you die, you gotta start from the Very Beginning; and the ‘point’ is getting better and better at the game, until you win! it’s super easy to just, play a few runs (they generally don’t last that long!), and then go on with your day, so it’s a really fun game to just waste time in, if you just wanna chill with some game. and, in my personal opinion, Isaac is the best roguelike game, with so much stuff to unlock, a whole slew of items to play with, and so much content it’s kind of unreal. i definitely think the DLCs are worth picking up, but it’s mostly for more content than like. actually being necessary

- Terraria it’s minecraft, but 2D. unlike MC, it’s got a bit of guidance, which i personally prefer, with bosses to fight and such. an absolutely BLAST with other people too

- A Hat in Time a 3D platformer, ala Mario, that’s just. super charming. it’s also really fun to play. i haven’t actually played the DLC’s, since i played it way back, but i’ve heard good things about Nyakuza Metro, which does look super slick, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- Slime Rancher you are a slime rancher. you ranch slimes. it’s honestly just wholesome as hell, and just exudes happy vibes. mostly for running around and collecting slimes, ngl

- The Messenger really funky retro game, wherein you play a ninja on a mission. it’s primary draw is definitely in its gameplay, but there’s a surprising amount of story for this kind of genre? i honestly really just like this one. it’s neat

- Underhero you play as a cute minion, who kind of like. managed to kill the hero. and whoops, guess you’re doing his job now? it’s got that undertale vibe, though i’d say it’s less polished than it. HOWEVER, it’s absolutely lovely and it’s climax is REALLY good

- Hatoful Boyfriend bird dating sim. trust me. the ‘secret’ finale route is just. *chef’s kiss* fantastic

- Night in the Woods if you don’t mind having a very poignant sad time, oh my god, i could not recommend NITW more. it perfectly captures that period when you’re done with school, and suddenly your whole life is stretching before you, and you feel so so fucking lost, and overwhelmed and pained with it. it’s just. so good. a sadness worth experiencing

- Shovel Knight another retro game! this one is, pretty much, the king of the genre, and for very good reasons. the first one (shovel of hope) doesn’t have much story, but the latter ones really add on it. they’re honestly just, really solid games! with funky knight characters!!!

- Hyper Light Drifter man, it’s just a masterpiece. everything about it is perfect. it’s been like, five years, and it’s still one of the very best indie games

- Tell Me Why it’s currently free for june! and it’s a story game! plus, if you like the genre, the devs got the ‘Life Is Strange’ serie(s) to delve into!

- Cat Quest honestly, i just really like this little game. the gameplay is SO much fun, and everything else is just. really charming :’)

- Yoku’s Island Express metroidvania, where you play as a dung-beetle post officer, and the gimmick is that it’s pinball-y! it’s really fun, and very cute and just an all around good time :)

- Owlboy you play as an owl boy! named Otus! and you can fly around, and there’s GORGEOUS pixel graphics, and a neat story, and just. the BEST cast of characters. it’s delightful

- Yuppie Psycho + Count Lucanor just gonna bundle these two together, because they’re both REALLY GOOD. YP is the newer one, and is therefore probably ‘the better one’, but i like them both a ton! they’re 2D horror, but i wouldn’t say they’re that spooky? though that might just be because they’re pixel games! you explore spooky place, and weird stuff happens around you. just a really fun time :)

- Angels of Death my FAVOURITE rpgmaker game, it’s main draw is, a 100%, the main characters and the relationship that develops between them. i just love it a whole lot, and it’s got that lil’ tinge of horror that i, personally, fucking adore. there’s actually an anime based on this, but i haven’t seen it myself!

- Celeste curve ball! it’s a 2D platformer! it’s really good, got a ton of accessibility features, and has like. the tightest gameplay- and, on top of that, surprisingly emotional story!

- Bastion putting Bastion here, because it’s actually the only one i’ve properly played, but you could probably buy any of the Supergiant Games, and come out satisfied. Bastion is the oldest of the bunch, and is definitely a bit less polished for it, but i personally adore it; the gameplay probably hasn’t aged that well, but i think the story and presentation more than makes up for it

- The Darkside Detective funny point and click adventure, with great wit, and a pair of characters i kind of simply adore. it’s main draw is definitely its humour

- Littlewood very wholesome and chill farming game, that feels more like an RPG than something like stardew valley- i’d not recommend it over SV, but if you want more of SV, Littlewood might scratch that itch!

- Pony Island + The Hex absolutely adore both of these, though if i had to rec only one, it’d probably be Pony Island? they’ve both got that undertale-off vibe, though Pony Island definitely leans harder into it. very interesting plays, both of them

- Oxenfree another horror-ish game! primarily story-focused, but oh boy, what a story! i’m a BIG fan of this game, and the sequel was recently announced too! definitely worth a look if you like ghost shenanigans

- Creature in the Well wasn’t a 100% sure if i should rec this, but beside the finale boss, i really enjoyed my time with this! it’s this weird pinball inspired hack and slash, with some amazing vibes

- Kindergarten 1 + 2 they’re just fun little games okay. the 2nd is much more fleshed out, but the 1st one is really fun too

- the Henry Stickmin collection I JUST... LIKE THESE GAMES A LOT... i think you can find the old versions somewhere on the internet, if you wanna check them out first? idk, they’re fun!

- LIMBO + INSIDE personally, i like INSIDE more, but both of these are classics, and also they’re made by a danish team, and i like them a WHOLE LOT

- The Final Station i could not tell you why i like this game as much as i do, but oh my god. i love this game? it’s got a dying world, neat pixel graphics, big zombie apocalypse vibes, and a weird little story

- Year Walk i love Year Walk :)

- Smile For Me if you liked undertale’s lovely cast of characters, oh boy, you’d likely LOVE this game! it’s really, really, fantastic, and the epilogue (not in the actual game lol) hit me right in the feels

- Pikuniku just a fun little game! there’s not really much there, in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a wonderful little play, one of those games that just sets out to give you a good time, and absolutely success. i like it a lot :’)

- A Short Hike wonderful game, where it’s more about exploring the island than actively finishing the game. it’s real wonderful

- ULTRAKILL ANOTHER CURVEBALL! no idea if you like FPS, but oh my god. ULTRAKILL is so fucking good. just an absolute blast to play. there’s a demo to check out, and i’d definitely recommend it, because if it’s a genre you might like, you’ll love this one (OH also it’s in early access, which means it’s not finished yet! personally, i don’t mind that, especially considering this is more gameplay focused, but ya’ know!)

- My Friend Pedro it’s honestly just really fun to play, and sometimes i still think about the implied lore, and go all !!!!

- Little Misfortune another point and click! this one is pretty short, and is set within the same universe as their other game, Fran Bow, which is much bigger, but idk. i like this one. it’s dark cute

- This Strange Realm of Mine i honestly dunno how to explain this one, because it’s kind of weird and a bit odd, but i really like it, in all its weird poetic glory. it’s neat!

- Donut County you’re a terrible racoon who’s ruined the whole city with holes. it’s great and i love it

- OneShot another ‘gives me undertale vibes’, though this one was in development before UT, if i recall correctly! it’s so good, and it’s got some fantastic meta bits, and i love Niko. i love Niko so much

- Inmost gorgeous vaguely spooky game with a neat story... my favourite genre

- Sayonara Wild Hearts i’d call this more of a spectacle than anything else, but oh my god. what a spectacle it is! the OST is amazing, everything about it just hits right, and even if you suck at the gameplay (which i did), it really doesn’t matter, in my opinion? it’s just great all around!

#ze.txt #the sale likely just went live so #steam sale #hope there's something here to your taste feef!#i honestly haven't been playing any 'real' games in. A WHILE? so all of these are older-ish #and there's a bunch of good new games out there!#but here's my little rec post of older games :')#that i have. actually played #i think inmost is the only one i never finished? plus TECHNICALLY oneshot since it got a BIG update after i played it but shhhh #also TECHNICALLY also ultrakill but that's in ea so it doesn't count okay #i just love ultrakill so much. i had to rec it. I HAD TO #also keep in mind some of these probably require a mouse!! i know ultrakill DEF does #but you might have one?? i usually play on my big pc so i. would not know #oh also DST does have a single player version which is very good also

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