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gracieheartspedro · 10 months

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Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.

Part 1/3

PART TWO IS HERE

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha

hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell.

So here you are, at a bar.

Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers.

Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.

Joel was different.

Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets.

“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you.

You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel.

The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.

“Whatever she’s havin’.”

Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart.

“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”

Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.

Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.

“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria.

You nod, “It’s going.”

“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”

He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile.

“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”

Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up.

“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”

You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat.

“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”

“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”

You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”

You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life.

“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.

“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”

“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”

“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments.

You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh.

From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?

Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit.

“Stay awhile, have another drink.”

You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”

“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey.

You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.

“You still with that one guy?”

You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you.

“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond.

Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest.

“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”

You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone.

“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”

He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell.

“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Oh, now you know my type?”

He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”

Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him.

Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.

You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”

“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”

You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”

Another awkward silence.

“Wanna play some pool?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.

You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you.

Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment.

“You ever play?”

“Yeah, I just suck.”

“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets.

You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started.

It didn’t.

Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit.

“You see that guy over there?”

He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual.

You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away.

“Mhm?”

“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”

The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way.

You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his.

“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”

“No problem.”

You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison.

Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.

“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”

“Should I?” You question, stupidly.

“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”

He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.

“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what exactly?”

He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7.

“Brought a girl home.”

His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.

“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t know about that,” He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”

His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.

“What do you mean, a while?”

His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so.

“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?

“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”

He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.

He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt.

I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now.

Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?

It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.

“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He looks to the side, glancing out the back window.

“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”

It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve.

“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe.

Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air.

He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire.

He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you.

“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs.

“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you.

“You just gonna gawk?”

He smiles.

“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him.

He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy.

“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties.

“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”

“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”

You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal.

“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly.

“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”

You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”

You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.

He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure.

He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down.

“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it.

You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling.

“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, “Eyes on me, or I stop.”

Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you.

“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”

You can’t even form sentences.

He pulls away.

“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”

The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop.

He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel.

He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.

“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you.

He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”

He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit.

“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”

You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes.

“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”

You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body.

“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”

Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you.

When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind.

“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”

He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better.

He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before.

“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”

He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping.

“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”

You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops.

He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions.

“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”

You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position.

He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him.

You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button.

“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”

You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you.

“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”

You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs.

You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”

Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows.

“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him.

He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting.

“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”

“Fuck it into me, Joel.”

The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements.

He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him.

You had never cum so much in one night before.

Joel Miller made you cum three times.

Without any help.

You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit.

He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby.

“You want any water?”

You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.

“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”

“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”

Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”

“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”

You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.

“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.

“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck.

His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier.

You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible.

“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”

You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly.

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes.

When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked.

And in Joel’s bed.

You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs.

“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”

He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house.

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”

Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.

“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response.

“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”

It was a demand.

She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close.

“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”

You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend.

“Go get dressed.”

It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct.

Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything.

You felt like a fool. You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.

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sandy-the-glader · 4 months

Note

Hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request an Adrian Chase x soft and innocent!fem!reader where they are coworkers at Fennel Fields, him being a busboy, and she is a waitress. The two of them have feelings for each other, Adrian just trying to get the confidence to ask her out. A group of guys come in every week are super loud, rude, and also make Y/n (who is taking their order) very uncomfortable, and when Y/n turns down their advances, they say some very mean things and make her cry. Adrian is absolutely FUMING, literally having to hold himself back from going at them right then and there, instead following her to the kitchen try to calm her down (in his own Adrian way), promising to “take care of it” . She 100% thinks he means kicking them out, but the group of men get a “visit” from Vigilante… the group “disappears” without a trace “, never to bother Y/n again.

Adrian softly kissing a very relieved Y/n when the men don’t return to the restaurant, she doesn’t know about Adrian’s Vigilante side nor does she know the fate of the group of men, but Adrian takes it as a compliment nonetheless

The Protector

Character: Adrian Chase x InnocentFem!Reader

Type: Fluff/Comfort, Angst

Length: 2.7k words

Summary: Request above!

Trope: Best friends to lovers, Co-workers to lovers

A/N: I have not done anything for Adrian in a while and I love him so much aaaaaaa! I bent the request ever so slightly. Also, let me know if I should make a part two of this but it’s Adrian’s POV 😉

"God that group is back." I hissed. "How do they always manage to get seated in my section?" Me and Adrian eyed them from the kitchen.

"I don't know but they never tip well either. I think all the tattoo ink got into their brains or something." Adrian glared at the noisy group. I smiled at his joke. He always lightened the mood and I was forever thankful for that.

"God it's twenty minutes until closing why do they always come in here late?" I grumbled folding my arms.

The group was dreadful and I have no idea how they haven't gotten in any section but mine yet. They've been showing up the past 3 weeks on Saturday nights and past close. Me and Adrian had plans ruined because of those guys. I've been working here for 1 year and a half (Adrian for longer) and I've never had a worse group of customers.

Usually, the worst is an old lady who asks for the manager when the food isn't exactly to her liking. Or a group of teenage boys who don't buy anything they just sit there and be as loud as possible.

Sometimes me and Adrian went to see movies together on Fridays or had plans with friends and I loved it. That's what made me look forward to the end of the week but with this lousy group of 40-year-old biker guys trashing the tables and leaving sometimes a zero-dollar tip was starting to have the opposite effect on me.

"You know I can take the table for you. I know they're pretty shitty guys." He looked at me and I shook my head softly. His green eyes dazzling in the heat lamps made me almost take back rejecting the offer. When he looked at me the way he did it made my heart flutter. They were so careful and easy.

"You take over my shifts all the time Adrian. The least I can do is deal with one unpleasant table. I can do it." I looked back at him with determination. Besides he was only a busboy, not a waiter though I'm sure he could do the job just fine.

It was true though. Every time I was sick he took over no questions asked. Sometimes he even encouraged me to call out sick when all I had was a cough. He was my best friend after all but he always went above and beyond with the way he treated me.

Sure my other co-workers were nice like Taylor treated me nicely but never as nice as Adrian. From the get-go, he was kind to me always guiding me to where things were or making small talk with me to help get me though my shifts. He was never afraid to give me a hand in anything I needed.

He looked very unsure of my decision but he didn't protest as I left to deal with said table. Though I could still feel his eyes glued to my back. I pushed open the door and

I strode over there with a sudden burst of confidence. I could do it. Then when It's all over me and Adrian can go back to his apartment and watch movies all night like usual.

As soon as I reached the table that confidence slowly started to melt away.

They were a group of 5, all big-looking, and they were like I said a biker gang. Sometimes I hate my job.

"Hello I'm Y/n I'll be your server today can I get you any drinks to start with?" My hands trembled as they gripped the sides of my apron. Whistles filled the air as the men's eyes wandered across my body. Some even leaned over to get better looks at me.

"Looking good honey!" I laughed nervously trying to be as polite as I could to them.

I felt so incredibly uncomfortable. I felt my cheeks getting hot. I was even embarrassed to be close to them. I cleared my throat trying to get them to reply to the simple task at hand.

"Waters for all of us." What I was sure the group leader spoke out. "Please, baby." He added. His group let out an array of deep chuckles. I felt sweat start to appear on my skin. I smiled and walked off in the back. As soon as my backs were to them my smile vanished off my face.

Oh god, it's barely been 5 minutes with them and I already want to leave. Once I got back there Adrian was still standing in the same spot looking at me with a pleading look.

"Don't look at me with those eyes." Those pleading begging green eyes.

"You can still take my offer you know." He pressed his lips together. "Because you look like you need that help. It's not like a bad look or anything but you look kind of helpless. In a good way." Adrian rambled. I've known him for so long I could decipher any message he gave me.

"It's fine I can handle it," I said firmly. I wasn't going to let them get the better of me. Just seeing and having Adrian here made it better.

He was a complete nerd and I loved having someone like that. I loved hearing him talk about DND and all of his hobbies. Then I got to start doing it out of work too.

We even set up a DND campaign at one point. It was a little confusing at first but playing with him made me understand. The memories of us together made me way more relaxed.

I poured those glasses of water and put them all onto a tray and held it with one hand. I pushed the door open almost spilling them in the process and walked back to the table.

"There she is!" One of them shouted. I placed all of the glasses on the table without a word trying to keep my cool.

I watched some make extremely disgusting gestures. Just 20 more minutes and you can go home. Just 20 more long excruciating minutes.

"She's a beauty isn't she fellas?" The main one asked. I swallowed thickly not excited for their replies. I did not have the energy for this today.

"Oh definitely would talk her home. You single honey?" One of them eyed me.

"Uhm yes, I am I'm just not looking for anything like that right now." I lied trying to get him to understand the message.

"Nah she's lying they're always in the market." My feet wouldn't move. I felt scared. Uncomfortable. Where's Adrian? I shouldn't have taken this table. "Come give me a chance honey!" He begged. Can't this guy take a hint?

"No, thank you I'm sorry." I tried to stay as polite as possible. "What would you guys like to-" I was instantly cut off.

"It's not like her makeup hides much." They laughed. I felt ashamed to be here.

"And she could smile more. Where's our cute smile sweetie?" I couldn't smile to save my life. I would not give them what they wanted. My lips trembled.

"Nah her smile would be ugly too we can't ask for something she doesn't have." The table erupted in laughter.

"Look at her she's a doll. She could get any guy she wanted."

“Maybe she’s a slut. No wonder she's not in the market she just sleeps around!” Barked another.

I looked up to see Adrian cleaning some dishes from a couple tables in front of them.

He was looking at me because he had clearly heard that nasty remark. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked red with anger. He was seething and I could see his hand gripping the rag he was holding tightly.

Then the dam in my eyes broke. Tears started to brim my eyes and I stormed back into the kitchen quickly. As I left I heard them start to laugh louder. I shoved open the outside door and sat on the picnic bench we had out there.

I leaned my head in my hands and let the tears spill over my cheeks. I couldn't think about anything other than their words and how humiliated I felt. I felt like screaming at them but I just couldn't. That wasn't how I was.

Who did they think they were? Coming into our restaurant and treating me like shit for what reason? Do they have nothing better to do with their life?

I heard the door swing open and I tried to cover up my sniffling but it was no use. It slammed shut and I heard quick footsteps trot over to the bench. I already knew it was Adrian so I let him sit next to me. As soon as he put his arm around me it all came rushing back out.

"Hey hey, I'm right here." He whispered softly, I wrapped my arms around his back and in that moment he was all that mattered. I just wanted to have Adrian by my side. He awkwardly patted my back.

"Thank you." I wiped my cheeks which now had mascara smeared down them. "I'm a mess," I complained to him. He didn't say anything he just kept holding me. I knew he could struggle with comforting and with words in general sometimes. "You don't have to stay here you know. I'm already in trouble for abandoning my table i don't need you getting into it too." I frowned.

"Oh no, I'm staying." I snuggled myself into his side. "They don't deserve you. They're dicks who don't know how to treat women and that feels like a crime. They had no right to insult you like that." I nodded trying to listen to his words but I still felt shitty. "And that's like so not cool." He said and finally, a small smile spread across my face. He let out a built-up sigh of relief that I was starting to feel a bit better.

"I know. It still hurts though."

"No matter what those guys say they're so wrong." I looked up at him and he was already glancing at me. "You look so beautiful without makeup. I'm not saying you look bad with makeup on I mean like the complete opposite." I started to grin at his ranting.

"Thank you A. It means a lot." He enjoyed the small nickname. He continued to rub small circles into my back relaxing me.

"But those guys will never bother you again." He said still heated by the situation. "I'll make sure of it and because I really like you okay?" He confessed. "And seeing you hurt like that hurt me." he stared at the ground.

The confession threw me off. I always stressed about him liking me but hearing those words fall from his lips felt bewitching. I pulled away from him and looked at him eye to eye.

"Oh fuck I mean!" His cheeks grew pink. "Like I like having you as a friend not like in like I've been crushing on you since I've laid eyes on you and have been dreaming about you or anything because that would be like..." I leaned closer to him and brushed my thumb against his cheek. His face was warm and soft beneath my hand. "crazy." He whispered finishing his sentence.

"Don't lie to me right now Chase." I frowned. He sighed as he realized he'd been caught.

"Okay yeah, maybe I really like you." His eyes never once left me. "And maybe I have been dreaming about you since I first saw you."

"You better not be joking with me right now. Or I will continue to cry ."

"Okay um do not cry again please I already handled the first time poorly. But I am certainly not kidding." I moved my hand from his cheek to his hand which was much larger than mine.

"You better not be because I like you too." He blinked a few times trying to determine if I was the one joking around this time. He moved a stray piece of hair out of my face and tucked it neatly behind my ear. His eyes flickered down towards my lips and back up to my eyes. Was he really about to kiss me right now?

He swiftly closed the gap between us and captured my lips in a phenomenal kiss. Maybe he wasn't all nerdy after all because damn he knew how to kiss. Sure I have barely kissed anyone my whole life but he made it feel so right. He slowly pulled back to look at my face.

"Was that okay? If it wasn't I can totally like stop. I don't mind at all." I squeezed his hand and hugged him.

"It was perfect. Thank you." For having such a shitty night he made me realize the better. Like how the stars seemed to shine just a bit brighter than before and the moon was glowing just a little more than it just had. All because of Adrian

"How about I go deal with them and I also go grab our stuff since it's about time we clock out we have a fun relaxing night tonight?" He proposed.

"I would love nothing more."

"Good. Now you wait here!"

Once I got inside his apartment I immediately collapsed and melted into his couch with a loud dramatic sigh. He had probably the most comfortable apartment imaginable.

"Oh shit." I heard him hiss.

"What's wrong?"

"I was supposed to drop by the store after our shift to grab some things from the store..." He trailed off looking sheepish.

"Go ahead, Adrian. I know it will be all you talk about if you don't." He nodded before muttering a quick 'thank you' and leaving.

I had a really long day in general so as much as I wanted to I did not feel like waiting up for him. I left my work bag on the couch and wandered to his room.

His bookshelf overflowed with books and tabletop games, His bed was slightly messy from the morning, and it felt like him. I dug through his dresser to find this shirt that had a cool-looking dragon and a D20 on it. I took off my apron and work shirt and threw it on. I really hope he doesn't mind.

I threw my shoes somewhere on his floor and crumbled onto his bed. God his blankets were so soft.

It had been an hour before Adrian finally made his way home. He took off his mask and suit and tucked it away in the hall closet once he got home. He'd deal with all the blood later.

He walked through the hall and pushed open the door to see his best friend asleep on his bed in his shirt. He couldn't be happier to come home to this. She finally looked at ease snuggled beneath his covers.

Adrian scooted himself into his bed and joined her. He placed a small gentle kiss on her forehead and spooned her.

"They won't hurt you again." He whispered before allowing himself to drift off to sleep with her in his arms.

I waited afraid week after week to see that group come back but they never did. Nor the week after that or the next. I soon started to get curious about what Adrian meant when he said he'd "deal with them." Did he get the manager involved? Did he really have that strong effect on them? Maybe he even beat them up. He's too soft for that right?

Anyway, I was just happy to be with the one I've crushed on for so long. It felt good. Better than anything has ever been.

Tonight we were staying in on the couch while we waited for the popcorn to finish in the microwave of his apartment. The smell drifted through the room making me even more hungry than I was before.

"I'm glad they're gone." I looked up at him. His glasses glowed from the light of his phone.

"Me too. I hate seeing you upset." I leaned on his shoulder and my eyes wandered quickly over to his phone. Just a quick peek it wouldn't mean anything. He was texting Chris who according to him was his guy best friend. I had met him a few times for drinks after work and he was a pretty alright guy. I scanned the words and...

I finally got to use the chainsaw on those guys :)

What does that mean?

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker #adrian chase fanfiction #freddie stroma x reader #freddie stroma #vigilante fanfiction #x reader #comfort from vigilante #babygirl fr

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ciipinyomomsdms · 4 months

Text

Call Signs

Small COD: Cold War drabble (less than 1k words)

Also on ao3 here

Reader as Bell. Contains Spoiler for campaign. Tags under cut

Tags: Implied/Referenced brainwashing, No ships, one shot, migraines and headaches, swearing

They call you Bell.

You’re not entirely sure why.

Well… that’s not entirely true. You know why they call you Bell. It’s a callsign. Your callsign. Your very own special nickname. What you don’t know is why you’re the only one to have one.

Adler. Park. Sims. Woods. Mason. Lazar. Hudson.

You know call signs aren’t unusual. You’ve been a soldier for 10 years. No, 20. No 5? Since the war. Why can’t you remember? Years. You’ve worked with plenty of other soldiers who had codenames. From the KGB. M16. The Cia every unit you’ve been in, from every country you’ve visited. Butcher. Cub. Niagara. You know it’s normal in this field, something to both keep anonymity and keep things fun…

But they had reasons for their call signs. Stories. Memories attached to them… you don’t. The name ‘Bell’ doesn’t bring up any nostalgia or amusement to your mind. It’s been your callsign since Vietnam and you can’t even remember why-

You groan. The concrete floor of the safehouse seems to swim as another migraine comes on. You get them sometimes. A steady thump, thump, thump on the right side of your head. Right by your temple. You can’t fully muffle the low groan that falls from your lips as you rub the spot through your balaclava, feeling the small bump of a scar there. Arash. The fucker betrayed you. Shot you, the bullet barely missed. Blood stains the seats of the car and you’re sure you’re dead- How did you get that again?

“Everything alright, Bell?” Park asks. You jerk at the sudden noise. Looking up, you realize every eye in the safehouse is locked on you. Park takes a step forward and tilts her head the slightest bit, her lip quirks downward.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” you mumble, “another migraine. Nothing major.”

Park lets out a deep breath, she gives a slight nod. You feel like you can breathe again too. You hate when they do that. Stare at you. You feel like someone on the team is always watching you. Like you aren’t on the same side as they are you’re not. You’re not. You’re not. Park walks away, going towards a drawer in the small office and returns with two small pills.

“Here. These should help.” She watches as you pop them in your mouth and swallow dry. Your head is starting to feel like someone’s taking an ax to your skull and you just want it to stop. “Better?”

“Don’t know. Just took ‘em.” You quip. Nobody laughs. You mumble out an apology but either none of them hear or none of them care. Probably a healthy mix of both.

“Take it easy, Bell.” Adler claps you on the back as he returns to his seat in the middle of the room. He does it a bit too hard, your body jolting slightly under the force and making your head swim some more. You give him a glare but he doesn’t even look back at you.

“Why does everybody even call me that anyway?” You ask.

He stiffens. He leans back in his seat, arms crossing. His blue eyes peer at you over the rim of his sunglasses and you suddenly feel cold. Your stomach churns like you might be sick.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks.

“My call sign,” you clarify, “What’s the story behind it?” For one, brief moment, the safehouse is quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Nobody seems to breathe. Nobody seems to move. There is no wind. No rumble of cars driving down the shitty dirt road outside. All you hear is your own breathing and the pounding in your head that currently reminds you of a siren. You feel strange, an odd sense of otherness settles deep in your bones. It almost feels like you don’t belong here. The pounding on your head resembles the pounding on a door. A red door. A bunker door. Perseus. He thinks you’re a traitor. He thinks you betrayed him. He must be so disappointed in you.

“Bell.” Adler finally says, he seems to force his muscles to relax. “As in ‘ring a bell’. We started calling you that during the war. You could never seem to remember anything.” He leans back against the table like he usually does, his eyes hidden safely behind his sunglasses once more. You look towards the evidence board, just in case you have to look into them again.

“Seems you still can’t.” He continues. He laughs but there is no real warmth behind it. Just the vague imitation of fondness. It feels almost like he is chuckling simply to placate you. “Get out of your head, Bell. We’ve got a job to do.”

Your headache stops. The pounding stops. The meds must have finally kicked in. You feel your migraine disappear behind a thick fog. You feel at home again. You know these people. Why on earth would you question their friendship?

“Sorry. You know me. Glad it still fits me though. My memory’s at this point. I’d lose my own head if it wasn’t attached.” You joke. Adler chuckles again, this time it does sound real.

You can’t even remember what pathways your mind was trying to lead you down, not when you feel like you’re floating. Your mind is soup. You don’t care. Adler is right.

You’ve got a job to do.

#cod: cold war #call of duty cold war #cod bell #fanfiction #small drabble

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imaginethathaikyuu · 4 years

Text

kinktober - day one

akaashi keiji - friends to lovers

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list

NSFW warning featuring: fingering, dry humping, first time together, unprotected sex other tags: lots of exposition, too many words, years long pining, accidental almost confession, emotional real one, mentions of characters having previous partners, oblivious reader, hidden feelings, slight angst, oh no there’s only one bed! fem reader

word count: 7380

Akaashi Keiji knows everything.

At least, he seems to.

You realized this only a month after knowing him. He turned around to you, the girl who sat behind him in biology, and gave you one look before saying, “You have no idea what this lesson is about, do you?” And you laughed, because it was so absurdly true, while Akaashi turned his desk around and introduced himself as your study partner.

You still don’t know how he knew you were struggling. You thought you hid it well, but his eyes must have caught the poor grade on the quiz the teacher returned to you the week before, or the way you seemed to immediately sulk the moment you walked into the classroom. He could see everything you tried to hide - even things you couldn’t see yourself.

And he wouldn’t let you get away with anything but a stellar grade, so study sessions became routine for the two of you - a friendship was destined to bloom, and fast.

He was too observant for his own good, which was something you learned while watching one of his volleyball practices. He had been inviting you to come watch after study sessions for awhile, but it took you a bit to work up the nerve to walk into the giant gymnasium filled with boys you didn’t know.

As you watched him play, you saw his superpower: Akaashi’s eyes were everywhere at once. On the ball, on his teammates, on his opponents, on his own feet - he always knew where everyone was at any given moment, all while somehow managing to spare you a few knowing glances during the mess of the game.

You never knew how he did it, but you figured you didn’t have to know. It was because he was Akaashi, and that’s it.

But you questioned why no one else seemed to notice it. His excellence was obvious to you, but even his closest friends seemed to gloss over it.

Keiji stood out to you, while to others, he was just Akaashi. Quiet, reserved, sometimes as blunt as a hammer, Akaashi.

He didn’t care, though. Akaashi thrived on being in the background - he didn’t need any of the attention or recognition you wished to give him. And maybe he loved his friends more because they left him be.

Those friends of his, however, all shined just as bright as Keiji did, and were never shy about it. You look back at getting to know them all as a highlight of being in high school; despite never feeling like you belonged in their friend group, you were always happy to be with them.

Keiji pushed you to get closer to the three boys, Tsukishima, Bokuto, and especially Kuroo, right from the first day you met them. They were playing a friendly volleyball game with a few other boys you never really met, and you quickly learned you had no reason to be nervous to meet them.

It was easy to let go and goof off, because that’s all any of them were doing, anyway.

Just because it seemed like fun to get under Kuroo’s skin, you decided to antagonize him a bit. “So, Nekoma’s mascot is a cat, correct?”

Kuroo immediately grew defensive at your tone. “Yes - what do you have against cats?”

“Nothing, nothing! I like to think of myself as pretty cat-like, actually.”

“Show him your claws, Y/N,” Keiji chimed in.

“They’re nimble, and sneaky... and lazy. Something that owls aren’t - just saying. Seems pretty fitting when comparing your team to ours, don’t you think?”

“Akaashi, you better get your cat,” Kuroo grumbled, with a sly smirk that never seemed to leave his face.

“She’s just a kitten,” Akaashi replied, winking at you and immediately taking your breath in a way you’d never felt before. “Not my kitten, though, so you’re on your own here, Kuroo.”

That’s when the first wall came up. You didn’t notice it, not yet, or even realize why it had been built. But as soon as your heart sank to your stomach and erupted into butterflies all because of Keiji’s flirtatious gesture, that wall arose.

And many would follow.

On the walk home from that practice, you noticed every glance he sent you. Every time his shoulder touched yours, you felt it amplified. Your knuckles grazed his and you looked down at your hands - his much bigger than yours, your fingers raring to wrap around his. And they were going to, either out of curiosity or the blatant need to touch him or both, until he stuffed both of his hands into his pockets and away from your potential grasp.

You shook your disappointment off and reminded yourself of what the two of you were: friends. Just friends. Friends only hold hands sometimes, and it’s not on walks home or during study sessions or any of the times you found yourself wanting to hold onto him.

“Kuroo likes you,” Akaashi said out of nowhere. And you laughed.

“You think so?”

“I’m pretty sure.” He sounded distant, his gaze was head on. “Maybe you should give him a chance.”

You laughed again and said, “Maybe,” even though you knew you’d never entertain the thought of going out with Kuroo.

Not with Kuroo or anyone else, but you wouldn’t understand why for a long time.

Two years of friendship had come and gone in almost an instant, but every day with Akaashi was memorable in that easy familiar way only he could offer. He truly was your comfort - everything you needed in a friend, Keiji had. Being so close to him was a blessing, you knew that.

When the two of you ended up choosing the same university, you almost wanted to cry, because you knew nothing could quell your fears of what’s new better than Keiji’s all knowing familiarity. Having your best friend by your side during times of change would make everything easier.

But it was a different story entirely when you became roommates with him. The apartment you shared was small but homey; it had all the comfort you had in your friendship with him, and you thought nothing could be better than that.

It was more than that, though. Months went by of seeing him every day, and it felt like that comfort was leaking through the floor every time you saw his bedhead or heard him singing in the shower or watched him pull another girl into his bedroom.

It wasn’t like the latter was an often occurrence, but just the thought of him being with someone made your stomach turn. But it gave you the idea of seeking your own partners, which was something you hadn’t done in years, and it quickly spiraled into an unhealthy habit.

You longed for familiarity, to be touched by someone you knew. You were desperate for comfortable vulnerability, and you never found that with a stranger in your bed. So, you decided to seek out someone familiar. And when the person in bed with you was an old friend, a realization dawned on you. Rather, it was offered to you.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Kuroo mumbled, and you did nothing but send him a questioning glare, one he scoffed at.

The two of you had done nothing so far but send a few flirty texts and then sit on your bed; he hadn’t even kissed you yet. You weren’t sure how you felt about it - you weren’t sure if you even wanted him to kiss you.

“I’m not the one you want here, idiot. So why am I the one you brought to your bed?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied honestly. “Are we going to -”

“No, we aren’t. Are you really that dense?”

“What?”

“Look,” Kuroo said, standing up and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was annoyed that he had to be saying this. And while you watched him, you noticed this was the first time you ever saw him without his signature grin or sly eyes. “If I was a shitty friend, I would have fucked you back in high school, alright? I mean, come on, I had the chance. But I care about Akaashi too much to ever do that with you, and I know you don’t actually want to fuck me.”

You stood up, too, facing him head on. “What does Akaashi have anything to do with fucking me, Kuroo?”

“Everything, idiot. I know you probably think you’re good at hiding it, but everyone knows you’re as in love as you could possibly be with that smartass.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, because you didn’t, but Kuroo wasn’t having it.

“Well you’re the only one you’ve convinced. And, for the record, this isn’t going to help you get over him.”

Still, you didn’t get it. You couldn’t see it - you refused to.

“You’re off limits, dude, Akaashi told us himself.”

“Then why are you here?”

His annoying grin was back. “To see how delusional you really are. And give you some advice. Just admit it to yourself - you’ll feel better, I promise.”

Keiji was your best friend, and that was it.

This wasn’t some story of years long pining and unrequited love.

Was it?

But you thought about it, for just a moment. You thought about being in love with him.

And then you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You decided, right then and there, that what Kuroo said wasn’t true; admitting it to yourself didn’t make anything better. In a lot of ways, your friendship with Akaashi thrived on your special feelings for him, and it relied on those feelings staying secret to both of you.

You couldn’t even finish the conversation with Kuroo. He swore not to tell, because you made him, and that was it.

That’s when the second wall came up, then the third, then the fourth. You were trapped inside of them. Hiding, only hiding, and safe from anyone who could see you or your heart.

You denied it still, even though Kuroo knew, just to convince yourself he didn’t. No one knew but you; the only one who knew the password to that door was you. You could be hidden, safe, and protected forever, because you made it that way.

Keiji would never know, and everything would stay okay.

Everything but you. And that security wouldn’t last, because a storm was brewing.

But you were content. What you had with Keiji was always enough for you - you had enough. You saw him every day. You got to hear his laugh on the good days and hug him on the bad ones; you got to have coffee with him every morning and secret late night snacks too many midnights. Sleeping alone was fine. Not getting intimate moments was okay. What you had was enough.

It seemed like the more you recognized your feelings for him, the more of Keiji you saw. You were still getting to know him after years of calling him your best friend; you were noticing his habits that you never saw before. He mumbles to himself while he cooks; he picks at his nails when he’s nervous; he overthinks everything, even the smallest decisions.

The latter had always been obvious, but you had never realized it until you lived with him - until you really started to love him.

Every day, you learned something new about him. And every day, you loved him more, in ways you didn’t even know you could. Ways that made it hard to love him from afar.

Months of your love growing during your first year of university seemed to go by too quickly, and soon spring break was fast approaching. A trip with old friends to a lake house was planned months in advance, and both you and Keiji were excited to see the three boys again.

But when you arrived at the old looking house that evening you were met with knowing eyes and a sly grin that hadn’t changed since high school.

“There are only four beds,” Kuroo announced, “and five of us.”

“That’s alright,” Keiji started, but he was interrupted by Bokuto’s loud laugh.

“Oh, I guess we’re sharing a bed, four eyes!”

“I’ll suffocate you in your sleep,” Tsukishima said, meaning every word he said in a way that made Kuroo cackle.

Keiji looked at you. “You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?”

A million thoughts ran through your mind, but you only shook your head. You didn��t voice any of the concerns you had for yourself.

“No problem.”

He gave you a grin. “It’ll be like our high school sleepovers,” and then he took your bag and left to find your shared room.

You remembered the last sleepover you had with him and your heart raced just thinking about it; you spent half of the night pretending to be asleep, and the other half watching Keiji’s sleeping face and wondering why laying next to him made you feel the way it did.

This would be the exact same, except now you knew why your heart would be pounding.

Kuroo was still laughing, but he was looking directly at you. “Are you sure it’s not a problem?”

“Shut up, Kuroo.”

He kept laughing, and it left Bokuto scratching his head. “What’s going on? Why are you mad, Y/N?”

“Because Kuroo is an asshole -”

“Hey now, I’m doing you a favor here!”

“...I still don’t get it.”

“You never will, Bokuto,” Tsukishima commented.

You decided to leave Kuroo laughing on his own - you shouldn’t let him get under your skin, because that’s exactly what he wanted to do. He was doing this on purpose. Maybe he thought he was helping you out, but he was only making things harder for you.

You weren’t going to let him win. You were going to have fun on this trip while keeping our secret seeled, and nothing would stop you - not even Kuroo attempting to play matchmaker.

The late arrival called for a quick dinner and a nighttime bonfire to kick off the vacation the right way; the boys were all too excited for the night and had gotten the fire started before you could even finish unpacking your bag.

When you stepped outside, the cool air hit your skin and froze you all over - you expected low temperatures, but not that.

“It’s cold!” you called out to the boys who were all sitting around the nearby campfire.

“That’s why we have a fire, moron!”

“It’s still cold,” you argued, even though you knew it was fruitless to fight with Kuroo.

“It’s alright, you’ll warm up,” Keiji told you.

“Go warm her up, Akaashi!”

You ignored Kuroo’s comment - you were not in a good place to be entertaining that thought, not when you’d be in bed with Keiji in just a few hours.

Keiji seemed to ignore it, too. “Here, I saved you a seat.” He patted the vacant spot on the bench next to him, and you sat down. “You didn’t bring a jacket, did you?”

“It’s inside,” you replied. “But I’m fine.”

He didn’t even listen to your response, he was already pulling his hoodie off and giving it to you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, holding it in your lap.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’ll keep you warm - you need it more than I do.”

“How romantic,” Kuroo butted in, and it was only now that you noticed the beer in his hand - as well as the few empty cans next to him.

Drunk Kuroo is always worse than Sober Kuroo, even though you could hardly believe he could ever get snarkier. It was like alcohol made him open his big mouth more, and it always made you nervous. Even though you knew he’d never say anything about your secret while anyone else was around, any time alcohol was involved made those chances go up.

“Just being nice,” Keiji said, obviously playing in to Kuroo’s banter. “I don’t see you offering her your jacket.”

“Hey, I just don’t think you’d like it if I gave your girl my jacket, would you?”

Keiji laughed at his slurred words and directed his reply at the group rather than to Kuroo, “He’s only had five beers and he’s already stuttering.”

“We’ll see if he makes it to six before passing out,” you said, and while it made the others laugh, it seemed to rub Kuroo’s drunken fragile ego the wrong way.

“I can handle my alcohol just fine, thank you.”

Bokuto butted in, “Are you sure about that?”

“You’ve been a lightweight since high school,” you added.

Everyone laughed, Kuroo included. With his next words, he must have thought he was playing along with the joke. That you were all in on what he was about to say next. That they would have no repercussions, they would sting no ears.

But when he said them, it sounded like a smack of thunder.

“Yeah, and you’ve been hiding your feelings since high school - some things just never change, Y/N!”

You could hardly hear Bokuto saying, “Feelings? For who?!”

“For Aka -”

“Kuroo.”

You stood up. Keiji’s forgotten hoodie fell out of your lap and landed on the ground. Everything was quiet save for the fire cracking and the pounding of your heart.

Your eyes said everything you needed to tell Kuroo. He stared right back at you, his face white as snow and his mouth hung open as he choked back his words. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. It was the calm before a fast approaching storm, one you couldn’t run away from.

“You weren’t going to say Akaashi, were you? Surely not…”

Kuroo turned his head to look at Bokuto, seeming to have no clue what to say. You kept staring as he shook his head, not having the courage to say anything else.

“Pretty sure he was,” Tsukishima said.

“Oh. Shit.”

You could have denied it - you didn’t. You could have been angry at Kuroo - you weren’t. You could have explained this away as him being drunk and talking out of his ass - you couldn’t.

You didn’t dare turn to look at Keiji as you stormed toward the cabin. You refused to stay and let this situation become worse than it already was.

You could hardly hear the words Keiji had for Kuroo, but they were something like, “Why the fuck did you do that?” and if you had been any less upset you would have been worried for how angry he sounded.

You didn’t know what would happen next. If you thought about it, you were sure you’d fall apart, and that was the one thing you couldn’t let happen. You had to hold yourself together, you had to give this situation the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe if you could just lie down and sleep before Keiji comes inside, you could wake up in the morning and everyone would act like nothing happened. Just because your secret is out doesn’t mean it was over - you could wait out this storm.

That’s what you were doing when Keiji came into your shared bedroom. You lied in bed as Keiji slipped in, your back to him and the blanket pulled up to your chin. And, just like at those old sleepovers with him, you were pretending to be asleep.

You had to be good at pretending if you wanted to stay best friends with him. To be as close as you are, with the feelings that you keep for him, you learned how to hide from Keiji. And you had gotten good at it, too - at least, you liked to think so. You were sure he wouldn’t catch you awake.

You tried not to think about what happened earlier. You tried not to dread what was coming if he knew you weren’t actually sleeping.

Minutes passed and Akaashi stayed awake. Then, he looked over to you.

“I know you’re awake.”

Everything felt frozen, just for a moment, but you didn’t move. You kept your breathing deep and steady, you lied still.

He reached a hand out to you, fisting your shirt into his palm. His thumb grazed your lower back, skin he exposed from grabbing your shirt.

“Stop pretending. You’re bad at it.”

It was like the world stopped spinning. Your world, anyway - the one you had made up in your head. The world where the only things Keiji didn’t know were all the things you were trying to hide from him; the world where, despite never being a good liar, you were good at lying to him.

But that wasn’t the same world Keiji was living in.

“I know,” you replied, voice cracking through the words.

You were sure he didn’t mean what he said in the way you felt it sting your chest, but it didn’t matter. Years of learning, hiding, pretending were all culminating in this moment, and if you weren’t careful you’d end up losing it all.

His hand moved from your back to holding your side. “Will you look at me?” And you didn’t have a choice, because he was turning you to lay on your back, anyway.

So you looked at him, because it’s what he asked you to do, and you felt the first crack in your poorly built foundation when you realized how close he was to you; then, he put his hand on your side and pulled you even closer.

It’s like he was looking through you.

“I should tell you something,” he said, and you had some idea where he was going with this but you didn’t want to find out. No part of you wanted to hear what he was about to say.

“You know… I already knew, Y/N.”

There it was: the collapse.

You couldn’t look at him anymore, so you closed your eyes and tried to keep pretending, even though you had nowhere left to hide.

“Yeah.” The hand on your side was hot and heavy and hard; you hated how much you loved being touched by him, even right now when your made up world was ending. “I know.”

“I’ve always known.”

“I’m sorry.”

You were so close to letting go, to breaking down in the pile of rubble. But you had built your house of lies on unsteady ground, after all; what else did you expect to happen other than this destruction?

You wanted to cry. You didn’t. You couldn’t be angry at yourself or upset, because you saw this coming. After all, Keiji knows everything. He sees things you don’t even know are showing - he’s been able to read you like a book since before he even knew your name.

Of course he knew. You were stupid to ever think he didn’t.

He whispered your name, and then you felt him kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, meaning it with your whole heart even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything.

“I should tell you something else,” he said, and it was quiet, like he was telling you a secret only you could know. He was treading carefully, choosing his words particularly - he didn’t do that often. You felt him bunching your shirt up in his fist again, you heard him sigh loudly. “I don’t even know how to say it.”

The tears were finally slipping free as you began to understand what he was getting at, so you pulled back. You didn’t need him to pity you.

“It’s fine,” you insisted, trying to push him away. He wouldn’t let you. “I know - I’ll get over it - you don’t have to tell me - I already know.”

“No, you don’t - you don’t know, Y/N, please, just come here.”

“Keiji -”

“Let me show you.” He wasn’t speaking quietly anymore - this wasn’t a secret anymore. “I can’t explain it - let me show you, Y/N - please.”

“Show me what?”

“That I feel the same,” he said, pulling you back into his arms.

For a second, you thought you misheard him.

And then, he kissed you.

Soft, sweet, new lips were on yours, taking your breath as if he needed it to breathe himself, then breathing a new life into you that you never knew could be alive. It was like striking a match, flicking a lighter, starting a fire; you watched the rubble of your once hidden love burn, all at the hands of Keiji.

At first you didn’t even know how to kiss him back. It was too much, too bright, too hot - and then, you couldn’t stop kissing him. You anchored your hands on the back of his neck and held him against you, silently begging him to let you take all that you wanted from him.

You kissed him like you’d never get the chance to do this again, because you were sure you wouldn’t. This hardly felt real, let alone something that would ever happen more than once. So you savored it, you memorized this feeling so you could relive it in your dreams forever.

A whimper reverberated through your throat and against Keiji’s lips and the feeling made him kiss you deeper, like he was searching for a way to get you to make that noise again. As the kiss got deeper, a natural progression came over your position; before you could realize it, Keiji was on top of you and lying between your legs.

His touch was hotter than a flame and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time his tongue brushed against yours, it took a part of you with it, and you were ready to give him all of you.

And then, he stopped kissing you.

He pulled back only slightly, and when you chased his lips he pulled back even more. You opened your eyes and stared up at him, at his blushed cheeks and pink lips and beautiful eyes. You could see the cogs in his mind turning and for a second it was like you were seeing a part of Keiji he’s never shown you before; the veil of his all knowing gaze was being dropped, only because he was letting it.

Because all this time, Keiji was hiding, too - hiding in plain sight. You always thought he treated you the way he treated everyone else, that he knew everything about everyone, but it wasn’t true. He only knew all of your secrets because he took the time to find them. He only saw you for who you really were because he cared enough to know. And, unlike you, he was a good actor; good at pretending you weren’t special; good at building walls that would stay up until he was ready for them to come down.

And with his next words, he made them shatter.

“I love you.”

You kept staring at him, trying to figure out if this nervous boy on top of you really was Keiji.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

You brushed his hair out of his face and rested your hand on his cheek, still completely in awe of him, and this was all too much for you to believe. “Is this a prank?”

He laughed at you, and his nerves seemed to melt away.

“Damn, you caught me.” His forehead fell to rest on yours, your noses brushed. “No, it’s not a prank. I love you.”

Somehow this intimacy felt all too foreign and way too familiar, all at once. It was overflowing, your heart was racing, it was hard to breathe, tears were falling from your eyes.

“Say it again,” you whispered, begging him to assure you of this - to make you believe it.

And he wiped your tears away as he told you, again, “I love you,” and the kiss he placed on your cheek seemed to make you weep even more. “And I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you replied immediately, “I love you, too - it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” It was obvious, now, that this had been bothering Keiji for longer than you could ever know. “I just… wasn’t ready. Especially with volleyball, and then moving, and then starting university, I just - I never had enough of me to give to you. And you deserve all of me, not just what’s left of me at the end of the day - I don’t know. I’m just… sorry.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that in a way that was good enough - all you could think to do was kiss him, because you finally could kiss him, so you did. And it was the same as your first: hot and sweet, familiar and foreign, intimate and overwhelming.

And the more you kissed him, the more it stirred something up inside of you. He wasn’t holding back - not after holding back for years - and it was like he was trying to get any reaction he could out of you. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer than he’s ever been, and the way it felt to have him pressed up against you sent chills across your burning skin.

You pulled back from the kiss just to take a breath. “Say it again,” you mumbled, because you weren’t tired of hearing those three words yet. A part of you still didn’t believe them.

Instead of saying them, though, he let his kisses trail down your jaw and onto your neck. You could feel the vibrations of his voice when he spoke, “Let me show you.”

And you knew what he meant, but you teased him anyway, “How do you want to do that?”

His hips seemed to move on their own free will, thrusting against you as if he couldn’t stop them. And it proved that he was just as in over his head as you were; you liked that. You liked knowing you weren’t the only one in a daze. You liked having this effect on Keiji.

“However you want,” he said through a dry throat. “We can do anything you want.”

“I just want you,” you told him honestly. You had no other choice anymore - the truth was all you had left.

“You have me,” he replied. “I’m yours - just let me show you.”

Your next kiss was interrupted by his shirt coming off, then yours. You felt his bare skin against yours and you were sure this was enough, that you were content with just this. This feeling was all that you needed.

“You’re pretty,” he whispered to you as his eyes scanned your bare body, and it left you shaking in anticipation as his lips made their way to your chest. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your eyes couldn’t leave his face as your fingers carded through his hair; you felt his hands travel the length of your body, and every kiss he left on your skin felt like it was touching your heart - all you could do was watch.

His hand moved lower, his fingers were teasing the edge of your shorts, but he hesitated to cross the barrier. You grabbed his wrist and pushed him across it, showing him that you couldn’t wait for this.

That’s all Keiji needed to understand how far you were willing to go with him. His skilled fingers worked against you, slipping into your underwear and touching you exactly where you needed them to, and it was better than anything you could ever dream.

And he did it like it was easy, like he’s spent years getting to know your body and he was doing what he knew would work. Like this was routine rather than your first time.

This sure as hell felt like it was your first time doing this; you had never felt so sensitive or open or vulnerable. But you had never been touched by a man you wanted so much; you never thought you’d feel his fingers spreading you open or see him on top of you - this is something you’ve only done in daydreams, and now it was real.

For the first time you were vulnerable and okay with it. You were letting him have all of you, and you trusted that he would treat you right. And he was. Maybe it was your love for him or the disbelief of the situation or both clouding your judgement, but you were convinced that his fingers felt better than your own.

“Is this okay?” he asked in a whisper, and you replied with a moan that you couldn’t hold in anymore. He laughed, “Does that mean yes?”

“Keiji, please don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing yet,” he replied with a few kisses along your jaw. You felt his fingers moving more, moving toward going inside, but he hesitated. “Y/N…”

You were pulled out of your daze for just a second as you looked up at his furrowed brows and half lidded eyes; his face left you wondering what he was about to say next.

“I really like the sounds you’re making,” he said, “but if anyone hears we’ll never hear the end of it.”

You laughed, because you had completely forgotten that you and Keiji weren’t the only two people in the world - let alone this house.

“Right,” you breathed out.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, but you…”

Two of his fingers slid into you, and you held back a gasp.

“...have to stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, trying your best to take deep breaths rather than let your voice out.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, giving another nod.

“Good,” he said.

His fingers curled, and you covered your mouth with your palm.

“Stay quiet,” he said, even though it felt like he was doing everything he could so you’d do the opposite. His fingers curling into you were begging for a reaction, and it was hard not to give him one. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Keiji’s hips were moving again, thrusting against your leg like he just couldn’t help it. You wanted to give him more but you couldn’t - your hands were busy covering your mouth and holding onto the sheets for your life, and so all you could do was watch him grinding against you.

“You’re one to talk,” you replied, making him laugh.

Both of you looked down and watched; the curl of his fingers moved in time with his thrusts against you - every time they came forward, you felt his length sliding up your thigh. And when he pulled back, his fingers straightened out.

You’d give anything to have more. “Keiji,” you started, but you just couldn’t get the words out.

He said them for you as he pulled his fingers out, “Can I fuck you?”

You had no other answer besides, “Please,” and you were ready to beg for it if that’s what it came to.

He started to pull his boxers off, but again, he hesitated. The arm he was holding himself up with was trembling, his breathing was unsteady, his entire body seemed tense. Keiji was hanging on by a thread.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

You were taken aback. “Keiji…”

“We don’t have to do this now - is it too soon? Are you sure you want me?”

It was hard to listen to his voice when it sounded so honest.

Your hands took place on either side of his face, ensuring he would look at you while you spoke to him.

“Keiji… do you want this?”

“More than anything,” he replied.

“I can tell,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember - I don’t think it’s too soon. But we can wait if you want. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I don’t,” he said. “I can’t wait - I’m so hard it fucking hurts - I just don’t want you to -”

“You think too much.”

He laughed. “I know.”

You let your hands travel down to his chest, hoping you got through to him. “Don’t overthink it. I want you to fuck me, Keiji,” and your hips thrusted against his as if to convince him of how badly you needed it. “Sooner rather than later.”

It seemed to be good enough, he seemed to believe you, because now he wasn’t hesitating to take off his shorts and yours. The view it gave you struck a burning desire like no other - now that you could see all of him, you couldn’t handle not having all of him.

And he was raring to give himself to you, coaxing his cock inside of you until you took it all, and both of you felt like you were about to explode.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, and the volume of his voice pulled you back down to the real world.

“Stay quiet,” you reminded him, giggling because the tables had turned on him.

“I know,” he said with a nod. “You just feel so good - you’re so fucking tight - I can’t believe this is happening - oh, fuck, it’s too much.”

“Move, Keiji,” you whined, bucking your hips up to try to feel anything, and he cursed under his breath when he pulled back to watch your desperate attempt at fucking yourself with his cock.

“You can do it,” he teased, pulling his hips back a little more so you had more room to move. “Keep going - fuck me like that, kitten, don’t stop.”

You were dying to feel him meeting your thrusts, because this wasn’t nearly enough, but you loved his teasing.

“That’s it,” he said, “that’s my girl. Taking me so well, fuck, you’re perfect.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, that was obvious as his thrusts started. He took a hold of your hips and held you in place so he could take you at his own pace, and he was everything you could ever need.

Your love for him was spilling from your lips and he was doing everything he could to keep you saying it, bringing you higher with every passing second. Feeling him between your thighs and inside your walls was intoxicating. It was everything you hoped it would be, simply because it was Keiji.

“I’m close,” you said as if he needed a warning - he could probably already tell.

“Quiet, kitten,” he said to you, bringing your lips up to his for a kiss. “These sounds are for me - don’t want anyone else hearing what’s mine. Be a good girl for me.”

“I’m trying,” you replied, and he cooed at your whining.

“I know,” he mumbled, and just by the sound of his voice you could tell he was liking this. And he was going to make it harder for you when his hand trailed down your body so his fingers could circle your clit.

He kissed you hard to stop any sound you were about to make and you were grateful for it.

“I want you to cum for me,” he said, “and I don’t want you to make a sound when you do.”

“Keiji -”

His hips and fingers sped up. “I’m serious. Come on, kitten, be my good girl - make me proud and stay quiet while you’re cumming all over my cock. You can do it, I know you can.”

Any trust he had in you staying quiet until the end was completely misplaced - you knew that when his hand clamped down over your mouth. You didn’t try to hold in your voice at all, and Keiji was having just as much trouble, burying his face into your neck to muffle his noises the best he could.

It didn’t matter if anyone else could hear you; to you, nothing else mattered but Keiji. He was the only other person in your world, the only person your body would ever scream so loudly for. As long as it was him bringing you to this euphoria, you didn’t care who else knew about it.

Let your friends give you hell for it, let Kuroo say I told you so - you’d deal with the embarrassment in the morning. That moment was worth it.

The soft kisses he was leaving on your neck in the wake of hitting your peaks helped you float back down easily. It was like being woken up from a dream, one where the only thing you could remember was how pleasant it was.

“You were not quiet,” Keiji laughed. You felt your cheeks swelling and heating up in embarrassment.

“I couldn’t help it…”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “You still made me proud.”

He lied next to you and pulled you close, and you convinced yourself that you were going to be there in his arms forever. If you were, you’d have no complaints.

A quiet moment passed, and you couldn’t stand the silence. “How was… that?”

He pulled back to look at you with wide eyes, as if he didn’t expect you to ask. “What do you mean?”

“Was it good? Did you like it? Was I -”

“It was perfect,” he said, biting his lip and looking up at the ceiling as if his high hadn’t completely worn off. “It was everything. Don’t get all shy and insecure on me now that you know I love you back.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. “I’m just making sure.”

“Do you need me to prove it to you again?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll make sure you stay quiet for me this time, then.”

Whether or not the two of you were successful in your attempts to keep the noise down was up for debate, but by the end of the night, neither of you cared.

And the next morning, when you forced yourself to leave Keiji and the warmth of the bed, you found Kuroo pacing outside of your door.

“Y/N.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry - I’m so sorry - what I said last night was way out of line, and I don’t expect you to forgive me for it -”

“It’s fine, Kuroo,” you said, because it was. If you were being honest, after the night you had with Keiji you had completely forgotten about what Kuroo said.

“It’s not fine,” he argued. “I shouldn’t have done that - you trusted me not to say anything about your feelings, and then I did. I fucked up - why aren’t you pissed right now?”

Before you could start to think of a reply, the door behind you opened. Keiji’s bed head popped out.

“Can you guys be quiet?”

“Sorry,” Kuroo immediately replied.

Then, Keiji turned to you. “Can you come back to bed? It’s cold.”

You nodded, and Keiji went back inside, and the moment you looked at Kuroo’s face, you knew he’d figured things out.

“Did you guys fuck?!”

You had no response. Keiji, however, called out a simple, “Yeah,” leaving you covering your face in embarrassment.

“Holy shit. I -”

You went back into your bedroom before he could even finish his words, slamming the door in his face so he couldn’t finish his boasting. But you heard him say, “You’re welcome!” before finally trodding off, and you shook off your embarrassment as best as you could.

The breakfast you needed minutes ago was long forgotten as you looked at the view in front of you of the boy who was yours. Keiji was waiting for you with sleepy eyes peeking up at you from soft sheets, a grin on his face, and his arms open.

He didn’t have to say a word - you were in those arms in seconds. Both of you released a sigh of relief; Keiji was warm again, and you were being held by him again.

“Finally.”

“I was gone for, like, two minutes, tops.”

“I don’t care,” he replied. “It was long enough that I got too cold without you here.”

You felt like you should have more to say, but you didn’t.

You’d spent years hoping for a moment like this. It was as soft and golden and happy as you’d ever dreamed, and moments like those didn’t need words. You knew how Keiji felt, and despite all your attempts at hiding, Keiji knew how you felt, too.

And in that moment, when the two of you were lying in the afterglow of intimacy from the night before, finally knowing is all that mattered.

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 2: royal

#kinktober 2020 #not family friendly #akaashi keiji #Akaashi Keij #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter 4: Unexpected (Bonding)

AO3

Bruce Wayne felt lost. This wasn’t an unusual feeling for him, but he wasn’t particularly fond of the events that led to him feeling lost. First, he found out he had a daughter. Yet another child that he hadn’t known of their existence. Then, he acted as Batman. He researched the girl and found that her school situation was...less than ideal. As was the supervillain situation in Paris. The girl- his daughter- had been targeted several times. Sometimes the Akuma went after her from the start. Other times, she was unfortunate enough to be in its line of sight when it was on a rampage. Any way you looked at it, she was in danger. No, the biggest mistake in researching her came with the phone number for the bakery run by her parents. Two lovely people who had raised her and taught her right from wrong. Something he hadn’t done. Their phone call was what left him feeling lost. They hadn’t demanded that he stay away from his daughter- from Marinette. No, on the contrary, they thought it was a great idea for the two to bond. Especially once Bruce had mentioned his other children.

“Marinette was distraught when the only information we could give her about her birth father was his name.” Sabine had said, adding to Bruce’s confusion.

“You had my name but didn’t reach out?” Bruce asked, trying (and failing) to figure out the situation.

“We didn’t have much to go on. Just your name and that you were American and worked in business. Bridgette didn’t give any specifics, and back then it didn’t really matter. I assumed Bruce Wayne was a common enough name, especially in the US.” Sabine replied simply. The rest of their conversation had gone similarly, with Bruce growing more and more lost until the end. They hadn’t even suggested a DNA test (though he was planning on asking Marinette, just so that they could be completely certain). They just wanted Marinette happy. Even if it meant meeting and bonding with the man who hadn’t known about her existence.

---

Marinette Dupain Cheng was not having an easy week. No, her week was sucky. In fact it was beyond sucky, it was shitty. So many things were happening at the same time, and she was just grateful that she wasn’t currently in Paris, since she was certain she’d be akumatized. From being attacked by the Joker for simply looking like a Wayne, to meeting Batman who was just as angry in person, and then figuring out Bruce Wayne really was her dad and accidentally calling him Batman, to fighting an Akuma by herself (one that she could barely handle) and then to top it all off, Adrien is Chat Noir. And Adrien has a crush on her, as Marinette. And apparently has for at least a month. Oh and now he knows that she’s Ladybug and so last night was filled with her Chat Blanc nightmares all over again. The cherry on the top of this mess was the fact that the class was practically ignoring her. She was sure they weren’t doing it intentionally and that they were just kinda distracted by Lila’s tall tales of Gotham. Tales that include her dating one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. She wouldn’t clarify which one, which was probably for the best. They two closest to their age were 12 and 19. Neither a great option for the 15 year old Italian. A shrill ringing tugs Marinette out of her thoughts. Glancing down at the unknown number attempting to call her, Marinette silently prayed that this would turn her shitty week around.

“Hello?” She answers, wincing slightly at the way her voice sounds after a night filled with screaming and crying from nightmares.

“Is this Marinette Dupain Cheng?” A deep voice asks. Marinette frowns.

“Um, yes?”

“Good. This is Bruce Wayne and well, I’m not sure how to-”

“You’re my dad.” She blurts out, face instantly heating up. “Oh crap, I mean, um-”

“Well yes. I do believe I may be your father. I was in contact with your parents earlier, to ask about boundaries and such. Your mother says that you had shown interest in meeting me and seeing how we’re similar?” He says, the question clear in his voice. Marinette opens her mouth to respond, then frowns.

“Just like that? We’re gonna meet, just like that?” She asks, hoping that her distrustful tone doesn’t push the man away.

“I’ll admit that I was going to ask if you would mind a paternity test. After speaking with your mother, I have no doubts, but I thought it might make you feel better. And of course, if you would prefer to just act as though I didn’t speak to your parents and go on with your trip, we can do that as well. I just- I was caught off guard, if I’m being honest.” Bruce Wayne- her father- says.

“I’ll do it. I- I would like to get to know you. I can’t have a relationship with Bridgette, but if my parents are okay with it, I do want a relationship with you.” Marinette admits, holding her breath as she waits for an answer. There’s silence on the other end for a long moment, but just as Marinette’s about to apologize and tell him he can go and pretend she doesn’t exist, he answers. His voice a little softer this time.

“I would like that.”

---

The paternity test came out positive, to no one’s surprise. Bruce had given Marinette the option of meeting somewhere more public (like a restaurant or museum) to bond, or coming over to the manor. Not quite ready to deal with the possibility of paparazzi and the rumors (no matter how true they may be) that would stem from a public visit, Marinette agreed to going to the manor for dinner. Which is how she ended up sitting in silence in a town car with a man who seemed like he knew more than he was letting on.

“So, you’re the one who raised Mr. Wayne?” Marinette asks, not quite ready to call the man “Dad” or any variation of the word. The man nods and she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Indeed, Miss. I am Alfred Pennyworth.” The man, Monsieur Pennyworth, says calmly. She tries not to let the frustration that she feels building show on her face. She feels like she should know this man, like there’s something important that she’s just barely missing.

“Have we met before?” Marinette finally asks, racking her brain as she tries to figure out why this man is so familiar to her.

“I don’t believe so, Miss Dupain Cheng.” He says, and for the first time since meeting him, it doesn’t feel like he’s all knowing. Instead, it feels like he’s just as confused as she is. Drat. She opens her mouth to question him more, when the huge manor becomes visible in the distance. Eyes widening, Marinette forgets everything else and turns her attention to the beautiful architecture. The giant fence and metal gates do little to hide the massive house. Sections of the house rise above others, almost as if there are towers. Dozens of windows are visible, as is the giant fountain at the front of the house. Ripping her sketchbook out of her bag, Marinette immediately starts sketching out the ideas that attack her mind. Dresses and suits and skirts, all using the architecture in front of her for the basic shapes of the outfits. As the car goes past the gate and the gardens come into view, Marinette can’t hold back her shocked gasp. Shaped hedges and flowers, hundreds of different colored flowers, and trees and- it was beautiful. Almost too perfect. Like something that belonged in a movie. She jumps slightly as the car door is opened, Alfred standing on the other side with an eyebrow quirked up. Right. She was actually getting out of the car. And going into this massive house. And spending time with her biological- nope. She can’t do this. She can’t-

“Miss Dupain Cheng, if it makes you feel any better, Master Bruce seems to have run into some traffic on his way back from the office. You’ll have a few minutes to gather your bearings inside before he arrives.” Alfred says softly. Relief washes over her and she nods, finally moving to get out of the car.

“Thank you, Alfred.” She says, smiling at the man. He nods back at her before leading her up the steps to the door. He opens it and then steps back, allowing her to take a tentative step into the house. Her previous panic is pushed aside as she realizes the inside is just as gorgeous as the outside. Immediately turning back to her sketchbook, she tunes out the world around her and just stands in the foyer, scribbling furiously into her sketchbook.

“Um, hi?” A voice says, making Marinette yelp and jump, eyes scanning her surroundings until they fall on a guy. A pretty tall guy.

“Hi.” She says softly, also confused as to who this guy was. Not her- dad-biological father-other part of her DNA-father-Mr. Wayne- not anyone she had ever met, that’s for sure.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Dick Grayson.” The man says, extending his hand, a smile on his face. Anyone else probably would have thought the smile was sincere, but Marinette had always been good at reading emotions. And she could tell that he was wary of her. Why would he- oh. Grayson. As in, Richard Grayson, as in this man was her brother. Or, well, maybe he wouldn’t want to be. Maybe he would think that she’s ridiculous or that she’s just here to get money or here to try and pull apart Mr. Wayne’s family or maybe he would think that she was trying to take his place and she would never but maybe he would hate her and- She takes in a deep breath, trying desperately to ground herself and wishing she’d taken up Adrien’s earlier offer of him coming with.

“I’m Marinette. Marinette Dupain Cheng.” She finally says, reaching out and shaking his hand. He nods, obviously still confused. So Mr. Wayne hadn’t mentioned her. Did he hate her? Did he ask her here to have her sign a NDA? Did he not want anything to do with her? Of course he wouldn’t, he obviously already had a family. A family that he chose, not one that he had by accident. His name was on her birth certificate, surely he would have found her sooner if he actually wanted anything to do with her? He chose Dick Grayson to be his son. He wanted him. He didn’t want Marinette. He-

“Ah, Marinette. I see you’ve met Dick.” The last voice she needed to hear says calmly as he walks through the door. Marinette swallows back the thickness in her throat, the one that tells her the tears will be starting soon.

“Uh, yes. Mr. Wayne. Um, hi.” She says, flinching slightly when he winces. What did she do wrong this time? Was he really going to tell her to take a hike? If he didn’t hate her before, he surely did now.

“Bruce, what’s going-” Dick starts to ask but is cut off by screaming voices getting closer to them.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Demon Spawn?”

“Not my fault your blocking skills are subpar, Todd.”

“Sub- you almost stabbed me, you little shit!”

“Almost, yes. But I didn’t. I’m sure Father will be pleased with my restraint.”

“You little fu-” “Boys!” Mr. Wayne finally yells as the two screaming walk into view. Both freeze and the younger one’s eyes instantly fall on Marinette, narrowing as he takes a defensive position.

“Another one, Bruce, really?” The older one asks, making Marinette flinch back. Of course. Two more of his sons-her brothers- who he chose. Another two that he wanted. Not like her, someone he was going to be forced to know. Unless he told her tonight that he never wanted to speak to her again and made her sign a paper saying that she would never contact him again and then they would never have to worry about seeing her again and- oh this is a lot.

“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wayne finally asks, and that’s when Marinette sees the weapons in their hands. And the blood on the older man’s shirt. The man turns slightly so that that part of his shirt is hidden when he notices her staring.

“Uh, bonding?” He says, not at all convincing.

“Who is that, Father?” The younger boy asks, the utter distaste clear on both his face and in his tone. And this is it. This is where he’s going to say that she’s no one, she’s nothing, and then he’s going to make her sign that stupid piece of paper and the last chance she has at knowing one of her biological parents is going to fly out the window. Poof. And then she’ll be so embarrassed, she won’t be able to go back on the trip and then she’ll have to change her name but she can’t completely run away yet because of stupid Hawkmoth and-

“This is Marinette, my daughter.” Well that was unexpected.

Tag List: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad au #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat batfam #mbdbwm2021 #day four bonding #ao3fic

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beetsandskzreads · 3 years

Text

silent bright summer night

bang chan x gn!reader, y/n works with skz and became their friend (the ultimate dream haha)

genre: tooth-rotening fluff, slight angst with a happy ending

notes/warnings: nothing intense, this is very fluffy, there's brief mentions of cheating, long distance, y/n's exes, fear of abandonment, slight insecurities, deep talks, reader and chan are slightly wine drunk, y/n and chan are whipped, y/n makes it explicit they want to date someone very warm and caring (aka chan), i don't think that's a warning tho djsjs just saying

scenario: on a balcony, at a beach apartment on a summer night of vacation, y/n opens up to chan about their past and current lovers. what y/n doesn't know is why chan is so interested listening to it.

It was 1:01 am when chan and I found ourselves in the balcony that overlooked the city and it's bright lights on a summer night. Skz had gone to sleep right after all of us came back from a night out of lots of fun, buying stuff on stores by the beach, having ice cream, seeing the view of the city lights reflecting on the sea water, appreciating street artists...

The two of us had been talking the whole evening, we hung out as a group but mostly just spoke to each other and laughed at the members jokes, both of us having a sparkle in our eye every time we saw the group happy. There was this unspoken pleasantness, a bliss, calmness in the air but with a lot of excitement. Chan was so happy to be around the sea with "the kids" as he refers to them and being at the beach almost 24/7 this week, it was like his natural habitat, his home, a comfort place. It left you feeling even softer for him, and as you shared your love for the sea, your feelings were at a peak. You liked Chan, and you loved this place as much as he did.

The night was so great, everyone was out like a lightweight as soon as we arrived to the vacation apartment we're in. Chan and I were testing the theory that a glass of wine would help us get drowsy and help us fall asleep as well, since we both have trouble falling asleep and felt nothing but a remaining excitement from the night out. It came to me especially because of the enthusiasm of talking to him, we were connecting so well, I didn't want this to ever end.

And so we drank (one glass quickly becoming the whole bottle) and we talked for what felt like hours on end, that neither of us wanted to cease.

- My ex best friend, she never quite knew how to choose guys, she always went for the ones that would never turn her way, the ones who obviously wouldn't care about her, not because of her, but because they were really careless guys, walking red flags. - I told him, I couldn't remember where exactly the conversation started but we were talking about nice people picking shitty people to date.

- What about you? - he asked

- Me? I barely even like guys, I mean I do, but I'm really picky actually, I don't allow myself to fall for cold people, I wouldn't forgive myself if I took interest in someone rude, I try so hard to take care of myself so I either stay alone that way or I find someone who makes me feel better, who knows how to take care of me, after all we chase happiness, I think a caring person could do that, someone gentle who isn't scared of emotions or who at least is open to face that fear with me by their side.

- I get it, it's hard to get by if you don't have emotional support, a partner should be able to provide that support, yeah. Did you ever... find someone like that?

- Yeah, in the past I did and even now I do know someone more than ideal... I guess my ex partners when I was young were going through a soft phase tho... I guess everyone has an emotional limit they were scared to cross... once I found that barrier the relationship stoped evolving, reached a dead end and so there was nothing left for me anymore and I left, plus, you know, cheating, long distance, a bunch of stuff really... it wasn't meant to be and I'm okay with that.

- What about that someone right now?

Silence ruled for about 3 seconds before I knew what to say. That someone right now is him. Ever since I've known him feels like he's the only man ever, but I don't think I'd tell him that, not soon anyways.

- What about 'em?

- What's that person like? What makes you trust they're any different from your exes?

- Sometimes I fear they're not, but I set the bar really high and I reset it constantly, to make sure I'm seeing it right, sometimes they seem so perfect to me that I wonder what good have i done in my past life to deserve to be around such a bright person. Of course they make mistakes too, but even the way they deal with them is so... mature, it's so easy to just solve things communicating, it's insane to me. Then I remember it's probably because they're eventually gonna leave me too, or just not reciprocate my feelings and after they break my heart I'll probably loose all hope in love, be heart broken for two years until I decide I'm gonna focus on myself again... it's a cycle after heartbreak, but with this person I'm really scared, because they mean more. I'm way too deep in before I've even expressed my feelings, it's gonna be devastating. - I'm rambling, the wine made me do it.

- What makes you think they wouldn't like you back tho?

- I'm not sure I just... it would be too good to be true and it's complicated... he's amazing and I'm just not sure if he'd be into me, I mean, I think I'm lovable and I think I'd be a great lover, I just don't know if I'm his type or if he'd consider me. We have a bit of an age gap, I'm not someone who's typically pretty or specially good looking, I have my charms but I have no idea if that's enough for him to be in love. It's complicated with each others work too... - I notice chan's gaze on me, he has his head leaned on his hand on the table and he's looking at me with bright eyes, eyes that look tired and a little drunk but somehow, he manages to look at me in a way that makes me feel adored, I don't know why you have to make me feel so much love, Bang Chan - Why are you looking at me like that?

- You have no idea how other people perceive you, do you? - he ignored your question, probably because of his drunk-ish drowsy state - Everyone I know likes you, see, you're a naturally kind and caring person, you're attentive to people's needs, you make sure everyone feels comfortable around you... that's so appreciated by everyone. I think you're exceptional y/n, you have this charismatic way of existing, a refreshing and comfy presence everyone can feel, but to me... it feels like home. You feel like home y/n. So... I have no idea who that person is but I sure as hell know they'd be more than lucky to have you as a partner and they're definitely dumb if they let you go.

- Are you dumb? - my heart's pounding quicker as I'm about to do something I didn't plan on doing ever.

- Huh? No, why w-

- Because that person is you... I like you, Chan. In a more-than-friends way - I interrupt him quickly before I lose my newly found courage.

Chan could've sworn his heart stopped for a few seconds. Suddenly sobriety hit him like a truck. It was the alcohol that made you say that, he thought, but he wished it was true and you didn't drink enough to be lying about this kind of stuff, you had a full on conversation and you seemed pretty sober.

- Y-y/n are you sober? - he tries to navigate through the situation.

- Oh my... yeah I am, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, it just rolled out of my tongue. I'm sorry... - you said as you panicked and tried to go back inside, regret filling up all your organs.

"I messed up" your brain keeps repeating as desperation starts entering your body, until Chan grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving.

- Wait! You don't need to apologize, I'm glad you told me... You didn't think I'd say all that about you if I didn't like you as well, did you? - he asks suggestively.

- I don't know - you blush as you realize what he's getting at - You're just so nice to everyone, I didn't make a big deal out of it.

- Well, you should've made it a big deal, the biggest deal actually because I've been trying really hard to show you how I feel these past few days and you were so clueless I thought you were purposefully ignoring the signs because you didn't like me back.

- I'm sorry Channie, I just didn't want to assume stuff and get heartbroken if it wasn't true.

-Well it is true, so you don't need to worry anymore. I really like you too, y/n. And I've wanted to say it for a while too, I was just wondering if it was a good idea since you work with us, but I can't contain my feelings anyways... you always treat me so softly and you look after the kids really well... It just feels like you were made to be by my side, you're the embodiment of the person I've always dreamed to be with, and these past few days with the kids and you... it just felt like we were the perfect family you know? I don't think I could be without you by my side anymore... - he stops, he's been staring at your eyes the whole time and now they're starting to water.

How could you not cry when he's saying the things you thought you'd only ever hear in dreams?

- Why are you crying sweetheart? - he whispered, as he wipes a tear with his thumb, the other hand holding your hand as he stands closer every second.

- It's just... I'm so... happy - you smile through your tears - I'm so happy to hear that, you said it in such a beautiful way too... I feel exactly the same, it's like I've gained a family with you guys but you... I've grown really attached to you, feels like some parts of you are tangled in my heart in ways I couldn't tear apart if I wanted to... I'm drawn to you and when I'm with you it's comfortable, blissful, it's right. You're so good to me, it's unbelievable, but it's true, and it warms my heart. - you say as your foreheads touch and your smile grows, his eyes showing so much adoration for you, you could melt.

Suddenly you share your first kiss together, a soft yet passionate mix of sensations, and it felt like everything you ever felt around Chan but better.

You stare into each other's eyes, smiling like the little lovely goofballs you both were, noses touching, ocasional little pecks filled with giggles because you were whipped for each other.

- So this means we're exclusive lovers now, yeah? - he asks with a blushing face, a very silent giggle and a huge, uncontrollable smile.

- Definitely, yeah - you answer biting your lip until eventually you let out the largest smile you ever had.

Needless to say, you didn't leave that balcony to go to sleep that evening. In fact, you two watched the sunrise kissing and cuddling, talking about the feelings you had for each other, when they started, why you liked each other, covered by a blanket, not wanting to let go of each other now that you were openly romantic.

Han found you both sound asleep, you on chan's lap, head on his neck as his arms wrapped around you gently, on a chair in the middle of the morning. He obviously called all the members to watch you two as they assumed you two finally got together. All of them saw it coming, Chan wouldn't shut up about you and had written what could be an entire album about you.

They were happy at least you'd be around more often to cook your delicious food. And you both blushed really hard once you woke up to lot's of teasing from the kids, it was fine tho, you liked it just like this, it was home.

#skz fluff #chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan oneshot #bang chan imagine #bang chan fluff #stray kids oneshot #stray kids fluff #bang chan angst #chan angst #skz oneshots #skz angst

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rare-and-beautiful-things · 2 years

Note

Hi, not sure if it's too late for any request already from your post the other day. But I was wondering if I could request a piece about what the second in commands like to do. So what Grape, Hwangmo, and them are up to when not dealing with union business and their respective school heads.

And again if it's too late for request I completely understand.

doing both grape and robin cuz I don't pick sides lmao

Grape

instagram and tiktok. he's a bit of an influencer, and you better be sure he uses all his bad boy charm and all of his looks. he's kind if popular both among his peers and among people who just like his looks. he thinks the peak of his Instagram career was when he got Jake's subscription.

keeping track of rankings and rumours on shuttlepatch. he cares about this stuff even more than you'd think he would, and he likes having additional information.

daydreaming about beating up wolf. when eunchan wants to get grape into some sort of media or a game, he says that the the antagonist is kinda like wolf, and grapes interest is picked lol. if turns out to be true, he can even get a bit obsessed with the piece and start shitposting about it (he always cringes after that tho and ends up deleting everything, so robin and eunchan take screenshots for leverage).

Robin

beating up people. he's not as much of a maniac as wolf, but he also fights for fun a lot more than most of his peers.

playing the hardest games he can find. he doesn't believe shit until he tries it, so when he hears that winning against some boss is impossible he's the first to try and prove everyone wrong. he actually got pretty good thanks to it, and grape sometimes convinces him to stream something. robin isn't very interested in streaming unfortunately, so he doesn't often do it on his own.

reading stolen comic books. he almost never buys them, but he enjoys reading action and erotic ones, and stealing is kinda fun in itself. if he gets caught, he usually goes with intimidation, and it works most of the time. there was one time when it didn't work, and he had to do community service for a month.

Hwangmo

internet cafes. you cannot tell me he doesn't hang out there. he probably goes alone and plays some unmanly stuff like romantic visual novels or something. he goes with his friends too sometimes, but they always end up some boring rpgs with shitty fighting systems, so he really prefers to just go alone.

part time job. not a leisure thing or anything, but I really think Hwangmo works even though he gets the union commissions. he's acutely aware that he's not smart enough to go to college, and he's not sure he wants to spend his life fighting and doing illegal stuff, so he tries to get some experience while he can. just in case.

cooking. it's usually simple food - fried eggs and rice, chicken soup, ramen, but he enjoys it. a few years ago he made kimchi with his mother, and it was... cathartic. he thinks of making it again from time to time, but it takes too much effort.

Kingsley Kwan

Kingsley probably just... studies when he has time free from the union business. he needs to keep his grades up, but he also kind of enjoys it. studying is peaceful and logical and organised, and it's all the things he doesn't get in the union.

reading complex yet monotonous books. I'd say it's mostly scientific and philosophical works, but when he's reading artwork he probably still goes for the longest hardest things. he loves Ulysses (but he also loves Dubliners and the fact that one person could write both). sometimes, quite rarely, he reads light-hearted novels, and he likes them for a while but they always leave him bitter in the end.

researching stuff like time management, healthy lifestyle. it's all to easy not to drown in the union business, to stay afloat, and Kingsley also feels like he has to keep donald grounded - he doesn't always succeed but... he feels he has to. he tries. it's never quite enough but it's something.

Dean Kwon

rapping with jake and co. it started in karaoke clubs, but later they started doing in the parks and on the streets for fun. dean likes it more than he lets on though. he tries to write his own lyrics from time to time, but he doesn't really share with anyone. at least not until jake and eunchan and Timothy all come up with a good enough bait to make him rap something of his own. it's good - a bit erratic and incomplete, but good. they still make fun of him for it.

doing stick and poke tattoos. his rose is made that way. he does it for other guys too, sometimes even for free if he's in a good mood. dean also likes making the designs for the tattoos, and he constantly gets better at it. he wants to get something professionally made sometime though, but he knows it'd be more permanent so he wants it to be perfect.

going to dog parks and just watching the dogs. sometimes he pets them, and most of the owners like him. he once got a part time job as a dog sitter because of that, but he had to quit when he got in the union, because he didn't get enough time anymore.

Jack Kang

keeping the motorcycle running. playing mechanic a bit, cleaning it, changing parts. he becomes rather good before he even knows it. he likes how logical it is and how the reward of the work is clear and immediate. plus they don't need to go to the auto service centers anymore because he does everything.

hanging out with jimmy. they're obviously together at school, and they're often busy with the business, but when they're not it's nice to just go around, sing some silly karaoke, drink and talk about stuff. they almost always end up talking about the union, but sometimes they just talk about each other and the past, and jack likes it the most.

household chores. i feel like jack's one of the people who like the immediate result of cleaning the room, doing the laundry or making food. it doesn't take that much of a time either. it keeps him grounded, and it's still simple when nothing else is. for a time being he can turn off his brain and just do something, and things will be at least a little bit better when he finishes. what's not to like?

#weakhero webtoon #weak hero #headcanons #grape #sam lee #robin #hwangmo #kingsley kwan #dean kwon #jack kang

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keigelsss · 3 years

Text

A Super Sweet Secret - Gojo Satoru

Merry late Christmas ya filthy animals ;)

Mega thirst moment based on this post and I think it just fits this fucker so well. I wrote part of this at 3am and I hate it so much ... fellow Gojo fuckers come get ya food.

Warnings: 18+, my shitty writing, language, mentions of alcohol, Gojo using infinity (had to do it on em), smut, DIRTY TALK, fingering, oral *fem receiving, overstim, squirting, uh… the pet names are super self-indulgent too oops, literally every grammatical error you can think of (please let me know if I missed any warnings I don’t wanna upset anyone or make anyone uncomfy. That being said minors pls DNI!! I don't feel like blocking anyone today)

Word count: 2.25k (i do be getting carried away)

How do you go about explaining your current situation to the higher-ups if you get caught with him? Do you tell them that, instead of getting pointers on how to guide students down the right path, you’ve been indulging in some very explicit acts with the man who is supposed to show you the ropes? No. That’s not right either but in all honesty, it would have been a lost cause from the get-go. Gojo Satoru is the least traditional in his teaching methods and is without a doubt a troublemaker but his antics are a part of what makes him so charming. It’s that same charm that finally made you cave and accept a coffee date with him on the next day you both had off.

You don’t know exactly when it happened but little by little those morning coffee dates turned into mid-day snack runs, then dinner and overindulging in desserts at the other’s house. Everything took an unexpected turn when you went a bit overboard on the sake one night. The next morning you woke up naked on your couch, the sun in your face, a pounding headache and a large man clinging to your body like a koala. As much as you wanted to maintain a professional relationship between the two of you, it was so hard to not crave another taste of him. He couldn’t resist you either, one bite and he kept coming back for more.

You two are definitely going to get into some serious trouble for this.

After stressful days of exorcising curses Gojo likes to unwind with a sweet treat from his local bakery and you by his side. He’ll find it ridiculously adorable if you have a bigger sweet tooth than he does. On the walk back to his house, you both snag a pastry from the bag of goodies and laugh at the other for not being able to wait until you reached your destination. The two of you arrive shortly after but Gojo decided he wasn’t entirely satisfied...

“Hey, sugar?” he asked while removing his sunglasses, his eyes entirely focused on your movements. You started to place what was left of the little cakes in a dish that was used specifically for the sweet treats of the day, he quickly recalled how you made fun of him for the fancy crystal platter but he admitted to being a bit extra like that. “What’s up trouble?” He let out a soft chuckle and got closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders leaning down to rest his chin on top of your head. “Trouble? That couldn’t be me.” you placed the cover back on the platter and put your hands on his arms settling back into him slightly. “You only call me ‘sugar’ when you want something from me, so what is it?”

Now that was true, he had a list of pet names for you that he liked to pull out for certain occasions and you caught onto that quickly. It’s really not fair at all how he can make innocent words sound so damn sinful when he wanted to tease you. You turned to face him now, his hands resting on either side of you. He leans down and places a feather-soft kiss on your lips, so soft it’s almost like he’s not making full contact with you.

“I thought we didn't do those things when it was just us together like this?” Your eyes fluttered open and he came back in for a real kiss, his hot tongue lingering lazily on your bottom lip but not enough to excite you. He does that on purpose. “I know but it’s just the thought of it, I can tell you're thinking about it too.” He reached for the dessert dish and picked up a small cream filled pastry, he took a bite and offered you the other half. You knew it wasn’t an accident when he got the filling on your lip and chin. He used his thumb to clean up the mess he made then licked it clean, he is actually evil but even if you do hate him sometimes you can’t find it in you to resist him.

“C’mon Y/n, don't you think it would be interesting to try while I go down on you? Just a little bit?” You bit your lip at the thought and he was already excited for your answer. He was right, the idea of him between your legs, devouring you but not quite. Being able to feel everything between the two of you but not making an actual connection. it ignited a small fire within you.

“We can try it once but I can’t promise that I'll like it.”

Truthfully that was all he needed to hear before he began to strip you of your clothes, leaving you completely naked. His large hands began exploring your body, grabbing onto any dip and curve he can find while placing sloppy kisses on your neck. He used both hands to get a firm grip of your ass, lifting you onto the cold marble countertop, you let a small moan escape you at the feeling and he placed a wet kiss on your lips. Tugging on the fabric of his long sleeve you brought it up and off revealing his defined upper body, you could drool if you didn't have some self control. “Satoru not too much okay? It’ll drive me crazy when all I want is to feel you.” The whimper that fell from your pretty mouth was almost enough to make Gojo cum in his pants, you swore you saw hearts glowing in his bright blue eyes. “Don't worry princess only a little bit. Besides you know my sweet girl always gets what she wants.”

If there was anything that came close to what you picture heaven was like, it would definitely be the equivalent to Gojo’s strong, slender fingers expertly rubbing your folds. He always found every sweet spot and applied the perfect amount of pressure without you having to say a word.

“Baby, did I make you this wet?” He used his thumb to spread your slick around, creating a delightful rhythm on your clit. Hips trembling when he grazed that one spot that practically had you gushing for him.

“Yes! It was yo- oh fuck that feels so good!” you leaned forward, resting your head on his chest, admiring the way his fingers looked so mesmerizing covered in the pretty shine of your juices. “You know you're the sweetest thing ever right? So damn delicious. I can spend hours between these sexy thighs of yours.” His breath is hot on the tip of your ear and that smooth voice sends shockwaves throughout your entire body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh and gripped below your knee, shifting the angle at which his fingers were exploring your overly sensitive hole.

“Are you gonna let me make you cum with my mouth? Let me taste how sweet you are?” his lips started to trail the sides of your neck down to your chest. He left a series of kisses on each breast, sucking lightly on your stiff and sensitive nipples. “Ah Satoru please! I want- Ooh want your tongue.” He licked a stripe across your tummy then placed a soft kiss on your belly button, he moved your thighs once more and found a position comfortable for the two of you. Your legs resting nicely on his shoulders while he rubbed circles on your hips and waist. “Look at this gorgeous pussy,” a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “So pretty.” another kiss on your swollen clit, you couldn't help but arch your back off the counter, grabbing a handful of his soft hair. He nibbled on your thigh and a sharp whine fell from you. “Remember to behave sweetheart, I'm supposed to be going easy on you.” His chuckle vibrated against your hot mound and you let out a sigh, releasing some tension from your hands on his head, allowing him to do what he wanted with your body.

Gojo’s tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, curling and sucking at the special spot that only he knew about with perfect accuracy. The buzzing sensation that you normally felt when he's down there was reduced to an incomplete static, like your nerves weren’t fully receiving the information of his movements. Now that? That was different. It really was infinity… a barrier he controlled entirely, the rolling of his tongue feeling more like a whisper of pleasure that was everything and nothing at the same time. You were right to think it would drive you crazy but in the most euphoric way possible. “Oh my god it feels s-so good! P-please don’t stop baby I’m so fucking close.”

The large kitchen was filled with desperate sounds of pleasure and the soft squelching of Gojo’s fingers inside your quivering cunt. This feeling was new but you were instantly hooked. It didn't take long for you to fall over that glorious edge with a broken moan of his name and a string of curses, making little to no sense at all. A deep groan erupts from his chest as he takes in every drop of your release in satisfaction. His gaze found your blissed out expression and he decided to ease up on that invisible veil between you, fingers slipping from your tight whole. You clenched around nothing and the loss of his fingers filling you was enough to nearly make you cry.

“That‘s my favorite flavor right there sweetheart.” he spent some time admiring the way you looked coming down from your high. The rise and fall of your breasts with every breath paired alongside the slight shaking in your limbs from how intense the orgasm was. You're a work of art to him, truly, especially like this. Opening your eyes you find his stupid gorgeous face resting on your thigh, licking his lips simply enjoying your taste. You ran your fingers through his hair one more time before softly squishing his face with your legs, letting out a breathless giggle while regaining some grasp on reality. “I w-want more, but let me feel all of you for fucks sake!”

He instantly obliged, diving right back in, using only his tongue, setting a languid pace. His animalistic groans against your over sensitive pussy were a telling sign that he was enjoying himself, probably ridiculously hard in the confines of his jeans. The thought of his cock deep inside of you was enough to get you shamelessly turned on all over again. If it weren't for his hands on your hips, rubbing easing circles into your soft skin, you would be a convulsing mess on the hard marble beneath you. A dull ache was beginning to form in your lower back, but you could care less. Gojo's tongue was working wonders on that delectable bundle of nerves of yours. His hands started trailing upwards and fondling your breasts, your spine arching under his touch as he pinched your nipples. You both made eye contact and he could tell that you were close to another release, your entire body was starting to shake. “Ye-yeah baby I’m gonna f-fucking cum.” his tongue never relenting on you. You were on the verge of screaming, your thighs were probably strangling him at this point.

“Mhm my little honeypot. Are you gonna make a mess?” he growled delicately against you.

That was also new but holy shit it had your brain short circuiting. Honeypot?! Damn you really could make a mess and that was exactly what you did. His relentless attack on your clit was blinding but so fucking delicious you didn't want it to end. You squirted all over his face, covering his neck and chest with a stream of your juices. The added stimulation of his abilities, and the shock of this new pet name clearly having an impact on your intense orgasm. it could possibly be the best you've experienced. He was aware of that fact as well. “I love when you do that.” honestly you did too. The aftershock of it all had you both mesmerized, your body just a quaking mess, panting and moaning. You struggled a bit to get air back into your lungs but Gojo's hands squeezed on your waist reassuringly. Your hips were beginning to relax and he once again found a place to momentarily rest his head on your thighs.

He huffed a small howl of amusement. You could instantly tell what he was so giddy about. “So? Honeypot?” you questioned him, not in a judging manner but out of curiosity and excitement. “It kind of just came out of me in the moment.” You couldn't help but laugh at his answer, a fitting response. You took a second to relish in the sight of your cum and his sweat tracing his brow. It will forever remain a mystery on how you managed to get so addicted to the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but here you were.

That evil little smirk made another appearance on his face while he brought himself up to kiss you, the taste of yourself was very much present on his tongue and soft lips, you screeched in excitement. He swiftly lifted you off the counter and began his trek towards his bedroom.

“Are you maybe just a bit more curious on what else I can do to that pretty body of yours?”

yeah this is trash uh if you read this sorry for the lack of seasoning in your food

tags: @bobabybo @ibukiirisha

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angelkurenai · 3 years

Text

So much for a surprise - Chris Evans x Reader

Title: So much for a surprise

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: I'd love a chris evans x reader one shot, where they're dating, and after the knives out movie, he's been spending a lot of time with his co-star Ana de Armas, and like in one specific interview she was getting very flirty and such with Chris, and touching his arm and stuff, and I'd just want to see how you'd interpret jealous!reader, and Chris reacting to that jealousy!!

Looking at your phone, for what seemed like the millionth time that day, you tried to suppress a sigh, though you couldn't help the roll of your eyes. Despite the amount of messages and notifications, and there were plenty for sure, none of them including your boyfriend.

You didn't want to hold it against him, after all you knew he was particularly busy these days what with all the interviews and promoting his newest movie. And despite all the games and laughs it could be, or at least it seemed to be to the rest of the world, you were an actress yourself and understood that it could be tiring, exhausting and on more than one occasions very nerve-wracking especially if one was already anxious about taking on a new role after years of being famous for another one. You understood because you had gone through all of that yourself, and you could have excused his lack of contact. You would have, really, if it wasn't for the fact that those interviews were no longer part of his job and a stressful one at that. No, if anything, they were obviously only an excuse now.

An excuse to not answer phone calls or messages, an excuse to spend less time at home, an excuse to make plans to go out with without you – oh you couldn't even remember the last time it had been just the two of you out for a simple drink – an excuse to pull further apart from you, an excuse fool around and be playful with another woman. It was that last part which brought a bitter taste in your mouth. If it was his friends, long-time ones or not, you wouldn't have paid so much attention to it but when he said that he was going out for the third time in a row with Ana and maybe some costar might tag along but he didn't know then there was only so much you could take.

You didn't doubt him, you would never doubt him or his fidelity to you, because you knew the kind of man you had beside you. After years of being together you how much he loved you, he made sure show it every chance he got and made sure you never forgot it, so you always trusted him even if he more often than not ended up surrounded by so many beautiful women at a time. But that didn't mean you could trust her, just like you couldn't blame her. Alright maybe you could andyou would if she ever tried anything with Chris, but the lingering touches or easy smiles and casually frequent glances were no reason for you to start anything or try to hold it against her. Not yet.

You could very easily hold it against him, though. For allowing all of it, but above all for allowing himself to be pulled away from you because of another woman. It wasn't your fault that you couldn't stop the pang in your chest. You weren't to blame for the way your heart squeezed, a bit painfully sometimes too. It was not on you that whenever he said, in that casual simple way that “Oh just going out with Ana.” as if she was his girlfriend of three years and not you, you felt your throat close up and your eyes burn with something akin to unshed tears. You refused to believe it was tears and you refused to believe that he was hurting you, that this situation was hurting you, when it could all easily be just in your head so instead you shrugged most of it off.

“Hey, we were-” the man started but paused when he saw the deep frown that had set on your face, the concern that slipped on his features was touching to say the least. Especially as he gave a small sign to his friends and approached you. Your friends as well and you tended to forget that lately just like you couldn't enjoy anything good that happened to you because of how things with Chris were but then again you had not shared much of it with him and when you didn't get to share your happiness with him it always tended to feel less true or real.

“Are you alright?” the hand on your shoulder along with the small squeeze and warmth it brought was comforting in a way you had almost forgotten you wanted but clearly more than needed, you realized.

“Just fine, don't worry about me. Going without any sleep for two days in a row kind of takes a toll on you, I guess.” you shrugged softly, slowly tucking your phone in your pocket; hoping even in the last couple seconds that there would be a message from your boyfriend.

“Are you trying to be reassuring now?” his eyebrows rose “Cause you're doing a really shitty job at it let me tell you. Hey remind me again who you've been taking acting lessons from at first? Hugh Jackman? Well it shows.”

“No, I swear I-” you couldn't help the giggle that left your lips, feeling light even for a few second “I am alright, really. A tad tired but only because I had so many scenes today. I recover fast and I have tomorrow off so all will be good. It's not anything I'm not used to.”

“I-” his small smile dropped in the end, worry showing through once more “Are you sure? Because I've seen you check your phone plenty of times in between breaks so I worried that- Well, something might've happened.”

“No, it's- Well, I expected some phone call or message from my boyfriend but apparently he's still busy with interviews, so I might just have to go ahead and meet him in person there. We might go out later... I think. We usually do every Friday so...” you trailed off and shrugged, not wanting to burden him with unnecessary worries and information despite how close you were lately.

“Oh well, in that case-” he nodded his head, glancing over his shoulder for a second before facing you again “It seems like you've already got plans with him then but uhm in case anything happens and you're off early or in the mood for drinks we know where we will be-”

“Oh but I'm not sure if I will have time to-” you said with slight worry and wide eyes.

“I know, I know.” he chuckled softly, quickly trying to calm you down “Just letting you know in case there's an off chance that it happens. We'll be waiting for you either way. I'll be waiting.”

You didn't dare say much to him after that, only gave him a shy smile and nod with a promise to at least try, and him that he was alright with anything, and watched him leave with the rest of your friends before you got in your own car to make your way to the studios where the interviews would be held. For the first time, probably in days if not weeks, you felt much lighter. Maybe it was good to see that you were wanted somewhere, in someone's company even though it wasn't your boyfriend's - despite your deepest hopes.

If only your good mood could last for longer than the whole 30 minutes of the ride, that would have been ideal. However, in the end, part of you wished that said interview was probably on the other side of the globe instead of so close to your filming location. Because as you walked into the studio, try as you might, you couldn't hold back the lump in your throat as you saw the scene in front of you.

“Don't know what that is but it sounds good!” Chris said with a grin on his face, soon followed by easy laughter from both him and Ana.

Ana's hand was in that very second on his arm, giving a small squeeze as they kept laughing together, until it slowly but surely started sliding down until her hand was holding his. The interview kept going and they both had smiles on, an occasional laugh escaping here and there. Her hand remained with his long enough for you to notice how he thumb was rubbing soothing circles one moment and playing with his fingers the next in a slow and easy manner that you knew he loved, you knew relaxed him even in the most stressful situations – especially during interviews which you knew he always needed – and that you knew... was your thing. Or at least so you thought.

And apparently you had been mistaken for at least three years now. You had been mistaken to think those warm comforting touches were just for the two of you to share and say things without having to verbally phrase them. You had been mistaken to think that the smile you saw on his face as he looked at Ana was saved just for you. You had been mistaken to believe that the way his face softened and his eyes focused with an unmistakable spark of interest were reserved just for you when you spoke to him about things you loved and not also her as she answered a question that very moment. You had been mistaken to think that the way his shoulder fell in relaxation, in easiness and comfort, as if coming back home for a long day, was reserved just for you and was something that came naturally. As naturally as the feeling of love which he so openly showed both with his actions and words whenever he saw you... or at least used to.

Come to think of it, many of the things you had been considering as important, as unique, for the two of you, were probably nothing more than maybe you getting sentimental or worse too attached. And, for sure you now realized, not happening lately much if not at all. But maybe that was to be expected when you were hardly spending any time together whatsoever. Maybe even not as meaningful... not as true?

But if that love, if those looks and touches and words, were not true then what else about your relationship was in the first place? What was real? What was unique? If he could so easily relax around her, flirt with her and accept her flirting back so easily, so openly then-

You shook your head and tore your eyes from the scene before you, effectively silencing their laughter in your head, even though it already sounded very far off. The unpleasant feeling was back, squeezing your heart, tightening your stomach in knots and making your eyes burn. The bad taste in your mouth, as your throat closed, was there too and you decided to bite on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying or doing anything you wouldn't like. Even the taste of blood was better, anything was better, really than the bitterness that came when you watched them interact like that.

You were above this, had always been especially with all the fans and female costars he had that got a bit more handsy and yes, you brushed most of it off. Most of it, when your blood wasn't boiling like it was right now because of how long this had gone on for.

Watching Chris making his way towards you, with his usually warm smile -even though you couldn't feel its sentiment at the moment -and a clear look of surprise on his face to see you there you felt that over the bitterness, you did feel mad. What you heard didn't help.

“Hey, Chris, don't forget about the meetup later yeah?” it was Ana and really you had nothing against her, not anymore, and not much more than your boyfriend.

Especially when he looked at her with a smile and nod “Sure thing I'll meet up with you there.”

“Honey, hey!” he breathed out and pecked your lips though you didn't even blink up at him, let alone smile “What a surprise, what are you doing here?”

“Surprise huh?” maybe you had originally planned it as that but now even the word made you huff angrily “Oh I'm not sure, maybe you would know better if you did check your phone once in a while. What the fuck is wrong with you, I called you so many times, Chris. Damn it I almost thought something happened. You always answer at least for a couple seconds, you always-” you stopped yourself immediately when you realized you were close to raising your voice and causing a scene which was the last thing you wanted.

Chris' eyes were somewhat wide and his smile had vanished. He considered your expression and stance for a few more seconds before he said in more serious voice “Maybe you'd like to talk in private then?”

Shaking your head, you huffed a humorless laugh but followed him as he took hold of your hand, linking your fingers and leading you away from the main set. No sooner were you alone than you pulled your hand from his grasp, not fact or angrily, only in a cold way without a single emotion on your face which you saw made his frown deepen.

“What's the matter baby?” he asked, voice low and somehow hoarse as he saw you wrap your arms around yourself and take a step back from him. A flush of hurt was visible in his eyes and you didn't like that it felt good to see it, but it was what it was.

“No first, let me ask you a question Chris.” you took a deep breath, trying to straighten your back “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Friday, why are you-”

“Oh so you do know, splendid! Then you haven't lost track of the date and you certainly haven't lost your phone or anything because you would have mentioned it when I brought it up. Which means you haven't been checking it or have checked, seen my calls, and didn't bother. Both of which, especially today, are equally bad. So, to sum it up-” you let out a shaky sigh “You don't give a damn about me anymore.”

“What?” he blinked in surprise “Where did that-”

“You know it's Friday and we always make plans for Friday night, always Chris. You make sure to text me about it first thing in the morning every single time. No matter where we are, even when we cannot be together, because we had promised. You had, Chris, because you knew. You knew how important it was to me to know even in the most simple way that my partner cares, you knew how much I needed that and I never asked for more never cared for more than just an hour out of your day, you knew better than anyone what I've gone through, and you promised Chris!” you pressed your fingers over your pursed lips when you realized you'd let yourself get carried away, raising your voice was not something you wanted. His eyes did widen this time and his eyebrows shot up.

You shook your head and made sure to wipe any sort of emotion from your face. Mostly caring to wipe out the proof of pain, that is, which you had been constantly feeling, because you were absolutely fine with him seeing the anger. If he managed to attribute it to your jealousy as well then you didn't care, you were beyond that now. If only it was as easy for the tears to be concealed.

You looked at him, and despite your red-rimmed eyes, your voice was low and cold “You always made sure to call. For the past three years. You never missed a single day. Until today. But of course-” you laughed bitterly, your words laced with venom as you nearly glared at him “You already made plans with somebody else, didn't you honey?”

“What- No, I-” he shook his head, eyebrows knitted together and baby blue eyes glistening with sadness and, dare you say, guilt “That's not what it looks like. Really, if this is about it then I promise I- (Y/n), of course you're welcome!”

“Welcome where? Cause I don't feel welcome anywhere in your life, Chris, let alone around her. And no it's clearly not just about this, but how would you even know how you've been making me feel all this time when you're hardly ever around, Chris?” you hissed before looking away from him.

“Hardly ever around?” you didn't know if your words hurt him as much as angered him, based on the way his eyes darkened with anger “Given that you do the same job, I didn't think you'd just show up like this only to pick a fight over something you know I have little control over. These days are harder on me and you know it, you can't really blame me for that! I was doing interviews all day and in between breaks I was so tired I forgot to check even my own phone, I didn't know that's a crime now.”

“So you do think that that's really what I'm trying to say here huh? Wow.” you blinked several times “You think you're the only one having a hard time, Chris? You have no idea about how hard of a time I am having then. No idea how emotionally exhaustion this new role is or how tired I am all the time. No idea how despite all that, I still can't go to sleep lately. And insomnia doesn't even begin to cover it, because of the doubts and constant thinking that I do and you're not there Chris, during any of it. You have no idea about any of it but I mean, how could you? We barely even talk anymore and no!” you raise your hands to stop him “It is not because of this job, it is because of her that all this is happening.”

“H-her?” he frowned in confusion before you saw the realization set down on him and a small sigh escape his lips “Ana? Really, this is all about that? (Y/n), you were always above this, you've never had a jealous fit. We both know I'm just spending some time with a friend, there is nothing more to that. There could never be, how could you ever believe otherwise?”

“How?” you couldn't stop a scoff “Really? You ask how? Oh my gosh, Chris, she is flirting with you nonstop! I have seen the looks and touches and everything, you can't be that oblivious. No I refuse to believe it. For the love of, that was the exact way I acted around you at first! It's crystal clear that she likes you and flirts with you and asks you out all the time and you- you're encouraging this! Chris, you spent twice the time with her than with me and I clearly don't mean work. You're constantly out with her, you do nothing to stop it and even when you're supposed to do something for the two of us you- you go and put her first. And only on second thought, as if to do me a favor, you think to invite me over because oh poor her she'll spend our night all alone. Honestly-” you laughed humorlessly “I wonder who's really your girlfriend after all. Or better yet-” you paused, hesitating for only half a second because maybe you were too hurt and the part of you that was angry was easily controlling your words but you didn't hold it back.

What is the point in being your girlfriend in the first place?

You heard him take a sharp breath in, his eyes and face all showing unbelievable guilt and pain at your words as if it was finally downing him the extent of his mistake. But you didn't let yourself feel sorry even for a second and if he really deserved a taste of his own medicine he was going to get it.

“I didn't know I- I made you feel this way.” his voice was shaky and you could see the beginning of tears make his eyes glisten. You were probably too cruel but so was reality and everything you had been experiencing so when he took a step forward you took one backwards as well. “Honey-” he made to touch you but you shifted away and he didn't insist, although his hands were shaking and his eyes were wide, he forced himself to stay calm you “You know that... I- I love you more than anything.”

“Do I?”seeing the way his lips fell apart but he shook his head and tried to get it together.

“(Y/n), hear me out please.” his hands were shaking and he let out a trembling breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.

He finally got the courage to back up “You know that I love, that will never- it can never change, no matter what. I would never do something like that to you, certainly not knowingly. I'm not that kind of man, I would never be and even more so not to you! You know how important you are to me, goodness, I love you with all my heart! I've loved you for years, nothing can take it away. It breaks me to think I made you feel like this, hell to even realize you're jealous--” he scoffed angrily but you could see it was directed at nobody else but himself as he ran a hand down his face “It's not anywhere near flattering or funny or cute when I see you like this. I shouldn't have let it get this far, it's my fault you feel like this, I know, but I promise-”

“Promise?” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper but somehow more effective than any screaming or jealousy fit you could throw as it made him stop on the instant, lips pressing shut “I think I've had enough of promises, Chris, don't you think?”

“Baby, I- I-” he frowned, not understanding how this had gotten so bad and maybe that was somehow comforting - certainly preferable to him encouraging her flirting knowingly or as a joke “I love you.”

“And I love you, but this-” you let out a shaky breath, shrugging numbly “It's not even jealousy, not anymore. Was it at first? Yes, yes it was. You're my boyfriend and you spent more time with her, out for drinks with Ana, out for a dinner with Ana and maybe some costar, interviews with Ana and talking in between breaks with Ana, letting Ana calm you down and comfort you when I-” you sighed “But as I said, not anymore. At this point... I don't have it in me to feel anything at all.”

“So-” you took hold of your things again “You can go ahead and have your fun and you don't have to feel sorry for me-” you hated how you sniffled but remained proud for how put together you still were “I hoped things were different but don't worry, I do know there is someone out there that at least wants my company, my presence in their life. I won't doubt that. I wished it was you but... what can you do?”

“Wh-what?” he breathed out shakily, his voice gruff as he slowly came to realize what you meant “What do you me-”

“Bye Chris, hope I'll see you... sometime within the next week, if you decide to show up at our place.” you gave him a tight-lipped smile before you rushed away.

He tried to reach out for you but you were faster, and him being still in shock and a mess of emotions, didn't have time to catch up with you. He stood in his place for a good few seconds, his heart hammering in his chest, eyes burning, lungs hurting and mind foggy. It didn't even register when he heard Ana speak to him, asking whether everything was alright, and him brushing her off with a small mumble before closing the door, maybe a bit too in her face but doesn't bring himself to care, and asking for some time alone. All the time he couldn't help but wonder how it all had gotten to this.

“Who...” he could only hear himself whisper with a deep frown, the thoughts running through his mind nowhere near pleasant as your words echoed again and again in his mind. He wanted to be even a bit angry, and maybe he was deep down underneath all this, but he couldn't fight the ache in his chest, the deep burn of jealousy which oh stung a lot, and ultimately the hurt than ran deep - even deeper when he realized that this was how he had made you feel - inevitably it brought a feeling of self-loathing as well.

But when he heard the small thud, of something falling, he realized it wasn't really a matter of who. He didn't even have the right to be angry at whoever was making you feel good, welcome and at ease; hell even if they made you feel wanted and desired, he had it coming and he even deserved it as much as he deserved the bitter taste in his mouth and jealousy in his heart. It was him who was at fault, him who had screwed up everything.

Looking down he saw the small object that had fallen from his pocket where he always kept it with him the past couple days, secured and safe away from eyes that could find it before it was the right time. He wanted to scoff bitterly at the thought, would he get the chance to find one after all?

“So much for a surprise huh?” he asks practically noone as he opens the box and takes the ring to toy with between his fingers.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #chris #chris evans #chris x reader #chris evans x reader #chris imagine #chris evans imagine #chris fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #chris one shot #chris evans one shot #ana de armas #x reader #jealousy #one-sided #fluff #angst

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 2

Thank you so much for all your reactions to part 1! I hope you enjoy part two just as much :)

CW: mentions of past minor character death (incl. a pregnant woman)

7.3k - masterlist - ao3

Her first day of shooting isn’t great. It’s not bad by a long way, but it could have easily been better. They’re on location in a forest somewhere in the outskirts of Rifthold and she didn’t even know there were places in the city like this, she’d assumed it was all the sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers and crowded streets, but apparently not.

She’s cold. There’s a machine beating down torrents of fake rain on her and Fenrys where they stand opposite each other on the muddy path through the trees, they’re filming the scene where their characters first meet. Her feet are soggy inside the canvas trainers she’s wearing and they keep spraying water on her hair to keep the wet look running throughout all of the takes and she hates it. She’s uncomfortable and stiff but she comforts herself with the knowledge that Fenrys is the same if the frown he wears whenever the camera isn’t on him is anything to go by.

It helps, barely.

She keeps having to spit water out of her mouth between lines, she swears it never rains this heavily in real life but who is she to comment, and she watches Rowan’s lips twist in displeasure where he sits behind the camera every time she does it. Aelin’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do, he can sit there out of the line of the water all fine, but she can’t speak with her mouth full.

It can take time to fall into the natural rhythm of shooting a new project, even the shitty ones she’s done in the past have shown her that, but there’s something about the way Rowan watches her that prickles the back of her neck, his stare intense and heavy as he watches, that adds the pressure. She wants to show him that she can do this. She wants his approval.

She ignores the reasons why.

After they finish and Rowan has called cut she sulks back to her trailer, she’s only just managed to change out of her sodden clothes when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Fenrys, warm and dry now in his own change of clothes.

They’ve sort of become friends recently, after swapping numbers after the table read he had texted her first. The studio has put him in the same complex as her and they’ve shared a car back there a couple of times after some of their meetings. She likes him a lot actually, and while she knows his reputation of infamy with the ladies follows him around like a bad smell, she feels comfortable with him.

“That could have gone better,” he tells her as he flops down onto the two-seater sofa at the end of her trailer, the other half has a mound of clothes dumped on it that she hasn’t bothered to sort through yet.

She just shoots him a look that she hopes says tell me about it.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he tells her, reassuringly. He would know she supposes, he has far more experience than her.

“I hope so.”

“How’re you finding it so far, working with Rowan?” he asks, and she frowns, bristling at the fact that he somehow knows the worst question to ask already. Aelin doesn’t think she’s behaved weirdly around Rowan since the day at the table read, in fact she’s tried to avoid him where possible. Maybe that’s it.

“Fine,” she says, but that’s not quite true. It messes with her in a dangerous way every time she knows he’s watching her. She should be able to turn that part of her brain off during a scene, she trained for years to learn how to do that, but he gets to her. She’s working on it.

Fenrys laughs, seeing right through her.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him, the first time we worked together I thought he was a total dick.” She gives him the same look as before as she clears the clothes and sits down next to him.

“I swear he’s not that bad. He’s just-” Fenrys pauses, weighing her up with a look, and something that he takes in from the way she stands, gnawing on her lower lip with her hair still wet, has him saying; “He’s got a lot riding on this.”

“Why?”

It doesn’t feel like he has a lot riding on this, his last piece was nominated for the Oscars, how much higher than that can you get? It’s not like he’s in the same position as her, desperately clawing herself back to a place where she can be cast in a role and it not be followed by a stunned, oh?

She knows there were articles written when her casting was announced that were doubtful of her ability to do this movie, that questioned whether she’s up to the task and whether she’s good enough to be standing next to names like Fenrys and Rowan. Some of the articles were straight up mean, and she only knows that because she searched them up like a masochist when all the ones Elide sent over were far too nice.

A dark part of herself can’t help but fall prey to some of the headlines. The ones that throw around words like nepotism, the ones that question whether Aelin is talented enough to be where she is cut deeper than any knife, and only half of it is because she sometimes wonders the same. She should be better than that, but the reminder catches in her throat that she really does have a lot riding on this.

“It’s not really my place to say.”

That’s a load of shit, and she tells him so. He only shrugs, not willing to so openly gossip about their boss.

“How well do you know him exactly?” She’s fishing for any details, but it definitely could be passed off as casual curiosity.

“He directed my debut, we keep in touch every so often.” He’s nonchalant. “He asked me to audition for this.”

“Nice humble brag.”

Fenrys only flashes her his movie star grin, in combination with the wink he throws at her it’s almost an effort not to blush.

“He wanted you cast, you know?” That she didn’t know, but it’s nice to hear.

“Why? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re hard work, you know?” He’s joking but it doesn’t sit quite right. She knows it’s true. “Come with us tonight. There's a group of us getting dinner, and you can ask him yourself.”

It’s an olive branch. She knows it’s obvious to everyone that she’s uncomfortable, still hasn’t quite found her feet on set after taking such a break, and it’s one that she’s grateful for. No matter how closed off she knows she still seems to them.

“Okay,” she says and Fenrys’ smile is genuine and a part of her lifts, it’s a start.

They share a car to the restaurant and he fills the journey with easy chatter. She appreciates it because she feels really fucking rusty. It’s been a while since she spoke to anyone outside of her immediate circle of friends and family, and it’s always been easy with them. This is different, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes she worries that, as much as they love her, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide are inclined to tread lightly around her. She’d like to think that she’s not that fragile, that she could take the full front of their humour and teasing like she used to, but then remembers when Fenrys’ joke fell flat for her in the trailer and she thinks again.

Either way, the cast and crew here don’t treat her like she’s broken, or even breakable, and it’s refreshing.

Fenrys leads the way into the restaurant, and there’s definitely paparazzi down the street snapping away at them as they cross the short distance from the car to the door. She tries to ignore it, she’ll text Elide once they’re done here, even though Elide will probably be overjoyed. It’s probably (definitely) easier to publicise your talent when she’s out there doing things with other famous people compared to staying inside her home alone.

Fenrys greets the staff on the door and they lead them through the restaurant to a staircase at the back of the room and it leads up to a private space with only one table. Right, privacy. Some of these guys are proper celebrities.

They’re the last ones there, and there’s two seats left at the table. Manon is here, so is Rowan and one of the executive producers who she thinks is called Gavriel.

“Alright guys, you all know Aelin,” Fenrys says and she smiles as they greet her.

Fenrys holds a chair out for her, the one next to Rowan, and she slides into it as he takes the one on her other side.

Rowan offers her a quirk of his lips, one she returns as she takes him in. He’s wearing short sleeves this time and she gets a good look at the tattoo snaking the whole way down his left arm. It’s in the Old Language and she can’t read it, even though her father had spent hours trying to teach her when she was a kid, but the lettering is beautiful and neat. She wants to reach out and touch, to trace the lines that roll down his golden skin.

She doesn’t. Obviously.

A waiter comes over to take their drink orders, Fenrys gets a beer, Manon and Gavriel opt for wine, but Rowan asks for an orange juice. He’s not drinking either and she wonders if it’s related to the reason he needs this movie to go well. So she’s nosy? So what?

She sits back and observes as the conversation flows, laughing along at the easy banter that flows between the three men and the sarcastic quips Manon throws in. Fenrys clearly understated his relationship with Rowan, they seem tight and have a clear fondness for one another. It’s easy to slot herself in as the night progresses, snarking with Manon and joining in with the general light-hearted mockery of Fenrys.

She thinks maybe so far she’s got Rowan wrong.

Tonight he’s quick-witted and charming, and he makes his best effort to include her in the conversation which she appreciates. It’s a contrast to the dark and teasing side of him she’s seen so far in the hallway and the table read. Maybe he’s decided to just start again, pretend they never met before she was cast, and she can do that too.

“So, Aelin.” Manon turns the spotlight to her after a while. “Tell us the scoop. I’ve not seen you in anything for a while.”

It’s not a nasty question, Aelin can just tell from the way she asks it, nothing more than genuine curiosity lies in her tone even if the phrasing is somewhat harsh. Manon might not be the bubbliest of characters, she’s blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush, but she’s not unkind, and Aelin doubts if she knew the truth she’d ask that question in such a way.

Elide managed to keep the worst of her… career break? One could phrase it more like breakdown, out of the limelight. She somehow managed to keep the worst of it hidden, and Aelin will owe her that for the rest of her life.

All the world knows is that Sam was murdered when they were both still newbies to their respective industries, neither of them had had their big break yet, and after that she took a break. For three years.

She remembers the headlines from the time, most were in smaller magazines, Sam wasn’t famous enough to make the front pages. Her mouth tastes like bile.

Singer-Songwriter Sam Cortland, 20, murdered in random street attack in Orynth, girlfriend Aelin Ashryver unharmed and working with police to identify suspect.

No one knows she knelt there in his blood begging for him to open his eyes, not even Aedion, or Lysandra or Elide, and she blinks back the image now. Her hands are curled into fists below the table and she forces herself to uncurl them and lay them flat against her jeans.

“Yeah,” she says after clearing her throat. “I took a break from it all for a few years, but I’m back now obviously and really excited for it.”

Manon nods and Gavriel raises a glass. He’s been nothing but kind to her all night. He kind of reminds her of her father, though he’s not that old, probably not even forty yet. He’s softly spoken and counters each snarky comment from Fenrys or Manon with something softer but no less amusing.

“Good to hear,” Fenrys says with a grin, clinking his glass against Gavriel’s.

The way Rowan watches her as he raises his own glass in a toast to her, careful and without speaking, tells her he knows. At least the basics about Sam, and it seems like maybe he did google her just like she joked back at the table read.

Their meals arrive then, mercifully taking the attention away from her. She needs to find a better way to deal with the attention than shutting down, especially if this film is going to be as big as everyone thinks it will be. She should call her therapist.

She will.

Eventually.

They leave the restaurant not long after, Fenrys covering the bill, emphasising that this was a celebration and an initiation for Aelin. She almost blushes for some unknown reason at his words, but she likes it. It sounds good. Like she really is back, or at least will be.

They each give her their numbers, and she likes the way he’s in her phone now as Rowan rather than Rowan Whitethorn, it feels like he’s not just someone from work. Not just her boss.

They each say goodbye and share a series of embraces, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that follow, desperate for any kind of incriminating image of any of the five of them. It’s clear that most of them are here for Fenrys, but she still makes sure to keep her expression clear and guarded as Rowan wraps her into a one-armed hug when they leave. It’s not just for the paparazzi.

Back in her apartment, when she’s tucked up in bed knowing she should be asleep, she can’t stop herself from googling him. She’s honestly surprised she’s lasted this long.

The first few news articles to come up are all about the movie and she scrolls past them, instead pulling up his Wikipedia page and scrolling straight to the personal life section. Maybe this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever got to know a friend, but she’s intrigued and still slightly flustered by him so it will do.

The section on his personal life is relatively bare, and it doesn’t surprise her. His Instagram account alone told her pretty explicitly that he’s a private kind of guy. She almost scrolls away after the first few lines, they don’t give her much information other than the college he went to and the languages he speaks, but she reads the final few lines of the section anyway.

In March 2018 Whitethorn’s fiance, Lyria Woods, passed away as the result of a road traffic accident. The driver of the other vehicle was found to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of the accident and was later sentenced to 6 years in prison for death by dangerous driving. Woods was 12 weeks pregnant with their child at the time of the accident.

Only a couple of weeks after the Oscars that she and Lysandra watched. She does the maths and realises this is his first film since then and thinks she knows what Fenrys meant.

Fucking shit.

Her second day of shooting goes better than the first, just as Fenrys said it would.

She’s more relaxed when she crosses the set from her trailer with a coffee in hand and she thinks she knows her place a little better now, even after only one night spent with the others.

She lies back while her make up is done, chatting to the make-up artist instead of sitting silently like the day before, and she’s almost ready for the discomfort that her wet hair will bring. The weather adds to the atmosphere of the film, dark and dreary and moody, and she gets why they’re doing it, but it still sucks.

Fenrys is ready when she gets there, and while she’s not avoiding Rowan today after finding out about his… past, she just finds it difficult to look him in the eye knowing what she does. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that she knew, if it’s on Wikipedia it’s public knowledge and they have made jokes about googling each other, but she feels weird in a way that she didn’t learn it from him. It feels intrusive, or invasive, to find out about something like that through Wikipedia.

But even though they bonded somewhat last night, and he greeted her this morning with an easy hey, they’re still not close. No matter that she thinks she might want them to be. She’s trying again to ignore the way she feels drawn to him, the way her eyes seek him out without her permission.

She knows she kills the take. Knows it from the high five Fenrys slaps against her palm once Rowan’s called cut and from the swift nod he offers her when she glances towards him.

There seem to be two Rowan’s too, there’s the award winning director Rowan Whitethorn, and then just Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn is cool and calculating and distant, quiet while he watches their scene from his place behind the camera, the big black headphones he uses pushed down around his neck. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s while he watches for all the minute details of their expressions and any improvements they could make. He doesn’t give her that many she’s pleased to note.

The way he instructs them is impressive, with clear directions and thoughtful analyses. She’s been here two days and she knows how he got the Oscar nomination, he’s scarily intelligent and seems to know exactly what’s off about a performance before she figures it out herself.

The other side to him, the side that is just Rowan is…

Just Rowan is the one she likes more.

She suspects the smile he gives her later, after they’ve nailed the bulk of the scene in one take and she’s being twirled around by Fenrys, comes from him.

She has two full days off in a row, and she decides the best use of her time is to go and stay with Aedion and Lysandra. Fenrys isn’t free, and the reason she is is that he has a load of solo scenes to shoot, and she doesn’t envy him at all.

Lysandra is ecstatic when she announces via a group text to her and Aedion that she’ll be at their house for lunchtime, and she loves it, but it makes her feel a little guilty. That she’s let it get to the point when her friend reacts like that at her promise of a visit is quite frankly appalling, but she finally feels as if she’s taken the first step. She’s on the bottom rung of the ladder, and it’s taken her a while, but she’s there now.

Aedion and Lysandra live in a disgustingly big house in a gated part of the suburbs, and she knows the house isn’t exactly what they would have chosen in an ideal world, it’s too big and garish and grey, but there are gates by the entrance and 24 hour security.

It still messes with her head that Aedion is that famous. Aedion. Her gangly cousin, always too tall for his own good, who used to pull her hair when they were kids and sneak her extra helpings of cake at family parties before her parents divorced. She doesn’t know that much about football, so little in fact that her dad and Aedion teased her relentlessly for years, but everyone tells her he’s good.

Like really good.

The salary he gets from the Ravens is more than enough proof.

She rings their front door bell and she can hear Lysandra’s quick steps before the big wooden door is pulled open.

Her friend is glowing. Her dark hair falls into waves near the end and her staggeringly beautiful face is free of any make-up and unblemished and dewy. She’s had time to get over the insecurities that come from being friends with Lysandra so it barely phases her as she wraps her arms around her friend.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers into Lysandra’s hair. It smells like coconut and citrus and just Lysandra.

“I missed you too. So much,” Lysandra sighs as she pulls back, dragging Aelin into the house and shutting the door.

Their hallway is grand and open but there’s a pile of their shoes by the wall and a rack of coats that make it feel more homely. There are framed photos carefully arranged on the sideboard in the entry way that show the two of them with their whole family and all of their friends.

There’s one on there of Aelin and Lysandra at eighteen, their arms thrown tightly around each other while they grin massive, excited smiles at the camera, or more likely Elide behind it. She remembers the day it was taken, Lysandra had signed to her first agency and arranged to move to Rifthold, and they had taken her out to celebrate.

It was around the same time she signed for her first movie, a tiny role with two lines and twenty seconds of screen time but it got the ball rolling with her first proper acting credit, and she’ll never forget it.

A head of golden hair pokes around the kitchen doorway at the end of the hall and she lets her cousin sweep her up into a hug, swinging her up and around so her feet dangle above the floor.

“Alien, we’ve missed you.”

A stupid nickname from when they were young, the kind of young where he thought it was hilarious to replace her name with an extraterrestrial, but it only makes her smile now, squeezing her cousin tight before he puts her back down.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been lost without me.” She beams at them, taking a moment to soak in how it feels to be with them even as Aedion rolls his eyes. “I’ve missed you both too.”

“Lunch is ready, come on,” Aedion tells her as he takes her case and drags it through the house, leaving it by the bottom of the stairs. It’s then that she spots the frilly pink apron tied around his waist.

“Alright,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to try what the domestic goddess has in store for us.”

Peals of laughter burst out of Lysandra and she grins back at her, forever grateful that they managed to keep their relationship with each other from ever impacting on their relationship with Aelin. At first she had been worried that Aedion and Lysandra would become AedionAndLysandra and that she wouldn’t have a place left with them, but she needn’t have worried, and they worked too well together for Aelin to have ever wished for anything different.

“Gods, shut up,” he mutters, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. “So annoying, both of you.”

She grins as she hears Lysandra smack an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Aedion’s a surprisingly good cook, the lunch he’s made is tasty despite being carefully planned to fit into both his and Lysandra’s strict meal plans. If they’re the cost needed to be able to live in a house like this, Aelin doesn’t want it.

“So,” Aedion says after he’s finished chewing a mouthful. “How are things going?”

He asks it with a gentle kind of sensitivity that she understands what he’s really asking. She knows it’s code for are you still sober? but she also knows he hasn’t asked it because he doubts her. Aedion and Lysandra have always been in her corner, even in her darkest moments they were there.

She never wants to put them through anything like that ever again. Never wants them to experience anything as terrifying as the last night she ever touched a drug. That night, almost a year ago now, will forever be the bottom of her pit. She doesn’t remember much of it, other than the devastation on Aedion’s face as he carried her out of the men’s toilets of a seedy nightclub in Perranth. The way he’d bitten his lip as he picked her up off the sticky floor, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover her underwear where it had ridden up.

The thought makes her sick.

He’d had to skip a game, leading to a bollocking from his coach, but he’d done it for her. Had carried her out of the club and into a car, waiting to take them back to his house. Lysandra had stroked her hair where she lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor while Aedion called a doctor to the house. Even through his panic he had thought of her and how little she would want it publicised that she’d been pulled out of a club, off her fucking rocker on whatever substance she’d been given by the lowlives she had fallen in with. She’s really, really lucky that for once Aedion hadn’t been followed by paparazzi.

She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she answers, it feels like all she ever drinks these days and it tastes like shit but it’s worth it if she never reverts back to where she was.

“I’m good.” She’s almost surprised to find that it’s true. “I’m feeling much better.”

She can barely look at them, can barely take the level of subdued joy on their faces.

“We’re glad Aelin, really glad.” Lysandra’s voice is sincere.

“So, how’s the new project going?” Aedion asks her, sensing her discomfort almost immediately.

“That’s good too actually.” It is. It feels good to have something positive to focus on, something that she feels is productive and worth doing. “It’s nice to be back and be busy even if the morning shoots begin disgustingly early. It’s good to be on set, surrounded by it all again and to remember that I can actually do this.”

She stabs her fork through a piece of tomato a little aggressively as she finishes and the look Lysandra shoots her tells her she’s not impressed with the self-deprecation but that she’ll let it slide for now.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam, is he really that good looking in real life?”

Aelin laughs. “More actually, sometimes it's too much.”

“Nice,” Lysandra nods appreciatively.

“Is he alright though?” Ever the overprotective older brother figure, she expected some version of this question from Aedion.

“He’s great. He’s hilarious and it really helps on the long days,” she says before taking her next bite.

“And Rowan Whitethorn’s directing isn’t he? What’s he like?”

Aelin blinks and finishes chewing slowly. “He’s… fine.”

She knows she’s fucked it when Aedion and Lysandra share a look, matching smirks beginning on each of their faces.

“Fine,” Lysandra repeats. “What exactly does fine mean Aelin?”

She purses her lips. “He’s a great director.”

Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And?”

She could probably lie here, they’d probably let it slide if she said some bullshit about how they’ve not spoken much and how she barely knows him, but she honestly needs to talk to someone about this. You know, to set her straight.

“And he’s really hot.”

She’s blushing as Lysandra laughs and Aedion chuckles.

“You’ve got a crush,” Lysandra sing-songs, and when she doesn't respond she says, “Have you got a picture of him? I don’t think I actually know what he looks like.”

She can’t blame Lysandra for that, she’s still kicking herself for not recognising him that day in the hallway, but he was only on screen for a few seconds at the Oscars and it wasn’t long after Sam so it wasn’t like she was paying attention in that way. She still thinks she should have noticed.

She pulls her phone out to find the only picture she has on there with Rowan. She had only taken it this week when they were eating breakfast with Fenrys one morning, in one of the tents that had been set up for them to sit in between takes, and Fenrys had pulled his phone out to snap a photo of her for his Instagram story.

She’d been wrapped up in one of the huge parkas they’re given for the times in between scenes holding her croissant high up in the air when he’d taken it. He’d captioned it she could have dropped her croissant and tagged her, and she’d gained a good few thousand followers. She’s almost at a million and they’re only a couple of weeks into shooting.

She had taken one of him in response and then spun around to force Rowan into a selfie with her, he’d protested but she’d pouted until he relented, grumbling something about actors that she knew he didn’t mean. She didn’t post it anywhere, she kept it to herself and she can’t lie, she’s looked at it way too many times since.

She’s smiling a wide smile, cheeks stuffed full of her croissant and it’s really kind of gross, but the small smile on Rowan’s face makes it bearable. More than bearable, she has to resist the temptation to make it her lock screen because that would be weird.

She remembers the heat of his chest where he had stood behind her to lean down so their faces were level, the hand he rested on her shoulder to steady himself and the way his fingers had brushed against her neck in the lightest caress.

She hands the phone over to Lysandra and wants to pull it back almost immediately.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed or whatever, even if they think it’s a bad idea they’d let her down gently, it's just that their opinion matters to her a lot. And while they haven’t exactly approved of her string of random hookups in the years since Sam, they’ve never tried to comment on it other than to check she’s in a good place with it, but she knows they’re waiting for the next person she sees seriously.

There’s a fairly large part of her that thinks her first relationship since Sam shouldn’t be with her boss. And that fucks her up a bit, because since when was she considering a relationship with him?

“Oh yeah,” Lysandra says, scaring away the intrusive thought and raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “He’s hot alright.”

Aedion nods along, peering over Lysandra’s shoulder. Lysandra’s eyes are far too knowing when she looks back up at Aelin and passes the phone over. She doesn’t say a word before locking the phone and sliding it back into her pocket.

“You’ll have to invite us to set sometime.” Lysandra is sneaky but not subtle.

“I will,” she agrees.

The next week flies by, she shoots every single day but one, and she’s far too exhausted each night to do anything other than scrounge up a measly meal that can be pulled together from her cupboard basics and the limited vegetables in her fridge before falling straight asleep. They’ve made good progress so far, and she knows it's going to be good, but she’s tired.

She’s seen a lot more of the process outside of her own character by now too, and she’s amazed, but not surprised, when she persuades one of the crew to let her watch back one of Fenrys’ solo scenes from the previous week. He’s a phenomenal actor, that much is clear, but she had allowed herself to get caught up in Fenrys as her friend, the happy and funny guy she spends her time with, forgetting the talented and driven lead actor of their movie.

Not that she can forget it in the scenes they share, but she’s mostly concentrating on the emotions her character is going through, and responding to what Fenrys gives her. It almost feels too natural for him, and she forgets that it takes work.

His text meets her at lunchtime on the Sunday they both have off, when she’s still in her pyjamas on the couch, debating whether to start a new series or watch the latest cheesy rom-com that Netflix has released.

She auditioned for one of them a couple of years ago, and she’s far enough past the bitterness that comes with not getting the role that she could enjoy it. Maybe a little, cynical part of herself thinks she’s glad she didn’t get it. What she has now is far better. She’s being a snob, but she straight up doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone else is here to judge her.

Fancy coming to Rowan’s to watch the game? I’m leaving in 20 his text reads.

She didn’t plan on doing anything today, but the invitation sparks something in her, and she’s never been to Rowan’s place before. The studio put him in a house about thirty minutes from set, and she’s curious. How much luxury does the big name director get compared to what she and Fenrys have got? She’s lucky really, that Dorian managed to negotiate the same for her as they offered Fenrys.

rowan’s??? She replies, followed by what game????

She gets up off the couch, putting the lid on the tub of yoghurt she was tucking into with a spoon and walking through to the kitchen to throw it back into the fridge.

Tall, grumpy guy that bosses us around all the time comes through a minute later and she grins at her phone at the description. It’s followed up by Ravens v Panthers.

She taps out, getting changed will be ready in 15 and he replies with three smiling emojis.

She doesn’t think it will be anything fancy if her impromptu invitation is anything to go by so she only swaps her pyjama bottoms with tiny cartoon sheep down the legs for a pair of black leggings and throws a sweatshirt over her oversized t-shirt.

Manon is there when they get there, sprawled across the two seater sofa at the far side of Rowan’s living room, and she gives them both a wave when they enter the room. The house is a pretty modest, two-up two-down in a sweet neighbourhood and it’s cosy inside with relatively modern decor. She doesn’t know for sure whether or not that fits Rowan, but she feels like it does.

He doesn’t let them in, Fenrys swings the door open and marches in like it’s his own place and she wonders how much he and Rowan have hung out, or whether that’s just him. Rowan appears in the doorway about a minute after they come in, a bowl of snacks in his hand that she thinks could be popcorn and he puts it down before coming over to wrap Fenrys in a hug. They slap each other on the back in the way that guys do before pulling back.

Aelin stands at Fenrys’ side watching the exchange, unsure whether to greet Rowan or just take a seat, and once they’re done he seems to regard her with the same sort of uncertainty. Fenrys darts around Rowan to throw himself onto the other sofa and she doesn’t give herself long enough to doubt her decision before she opens her arms and steps towards him.

“Hey,” he says simply as he wraps her into a brief hug. “Thanks for coming.”

She wraps her arms around his own broad shoulders, and it feels nice. He’s warm and strong beneath her hands and the way his arms loop around her waist, so far his hands reach back around to her stomach, gets her in a way that she really doesn’t need to think about. It feels really good pressed up against him like that.

“Hey,” she breathes as he pulls back, and she knows he sees the blush on her cheeks. She’s not fifteen, she really needs to sort herself out. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course, make yourself at home.” He gives her another half smile, offering a flash of his straight, white teeth, and again she’s struck by him. That his place is behind the camera is a crime. “I’ve got more snacks and drinks in the kitchen if you want.”

“Beer?” Fenrys asks her, already heading to a door that she assumes leads to the kitchen.

She shakes her head, “do you have sparkling water?” She directs the question to Rowan who nods.

He doesn’t have to speak before Fenrys says “on it,” and leaves the room.

She assesses the seating choices left in the room, there’s a cream two-seater sofa opposite where Manon lies, and that’s probably her best bet, but Rowan has already taken his seat on it, an ankle crossed over a knee as he settles into the cushions. There’s plenty of room to sit by him and not touch, and she weighs it up against having to ask Manon to move.

She’s friendly with the girl, but still feels slightly intimidated by the calculating and sarcastic blonde despite the fact that she’s a few years younger than Aelin herself, so maybe Rowan is the safer choice.

Fenrys comes back into the room just as she takes her seat.

“Move your feet, Blackbeak,” he demands as he hands her a glass of sparkling water, it’s chilled with a couple of cubes of ice and she appreciates it.

Manon lifts her legs for Fenrys to sit, but plops her legs back down across his lap immediately and sticks her tongue out at him as she does. Aelin feels herself smile at the display, and the fact that she’s included in this circle of friends. She hasn’t really made an effort with anyone new since Sam, the only people she’s really spoken to are Elide, Lysandra and Aedion, and they were all there for her before Sam. It feels really damn good.

She really, really, doesn’t understand the rules of football, but it’s easy enough to cheer along when the others do and laugh at their outrage when something doesn’t go their way. It’s the most animated she’s seen Rowan so far, and she’s not quite sure which way their allegiances lie, but it’s probably with the Ravens being in Rifthold and all, and she knows her own is.

Everytime Aedion gets the ball or is shown on screen she can’t hold back the cheers. She’s proud of him and she knows how hard he works to be as good as he is, and even knowing as little as she does, it's special to watch him excel.

Rowan and Fenrys both seem a little starstruck that he’s her cousin, to her he’s just Aedion and they’re the real, scary celebrities, but they gush about him like starstruck little boys.

“And you were at his house last weekend?” Fenrys cries, almost outraged that this is the first he’s ever heard of it, but honestly? They’re both Ashryvers; it’s not like it's a secret.

“Yes,” she laughs. “He’s basically like my brother.”

“Gods, Aelin.” He sounds almost pained that she hasn’t brought this up before. “You've been holding out on us! Please give me his number or introduce me or something.”

“Sorry.” She laughs again and throws a smile to Rowan that he returns with another quirk of his lips. “Invite me earlier next time and I’ll ask him to sort a box for us at the stadium.”

“Seriously?” Even Rowan sounds awed now.

“Yeah, just let me know,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

It really wouldn't be, Aedion has been telling her for years to invite any friends she wants to games, she would just need some friends outside of him, Lysandra and Elide first.

“It’s definitely a big deal,” he says, watching her with a smirk still playing on his lips.

She shrugs. “Just make sure you text me early next time.”

“Oh, I will,” he says, and she has to look away from him. The way his voice curves around the words, all low and intense, is definitely about more than just the game.

She tries to pass it off as just looking to where Fenrys is cheering loudly at the next play, but Manon is there again, looking at her with such a knowing expression that she immediately focuses back on the TV.

At half time she needs to use the bathroom and Rowan gives her a quick rundown of the layout of the house. She’s quick to do her thing and runs by the kitchen afterwards to grab a refill of her drink and find something to eat.

Rowan had told them all to help themselves, explaining that he felt they had as much right as he to poke through the cupboards in the only just filled rental property and she gets it. The places the studio rent out for them are nice enough, and she’s more than grateful that they do, but it’s never quite home. Even if her home is somewhat impersonal, it’s still home.

She’s on her tiptoes, scanning through the relatively well stocked cupboards on the hunt for anything chocolate, when someone enters the kitchen behind her.

“I know I said help yourselves, but you’re going to eat me out of house and home at this rate.”

It’s Rowan, and he leans against the doorframe as he watches her startle and spin to face him, his legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his chest. The pose highlights his powerful arms that she wants to be wrapped up in again and he looks really good in the dim lighting of the kitchen. It bounces off the lines of his tattoo, shining and highlighting the swirls that she can barely look away. She wants to ask what it means.

Aelin scoffs and pushes the cupboard door shut gently, they’re not eating that much and if they are it’s definitely not her, Fenrys and Manon are another story.

“There’s nothing stopping you from kicking us all out,” she says and he laughs, shaking his head.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze picking her apart by the second before he says “maybe not all of you.”

His words and the way he shifts in the doorway as his eyes run her up and down gives her the confidence to bite her lip and look up at him through her lashes. He pushes off the door frame and comes to lean against the counter by her side.

He opens a cupboard door on her other side and rummages through a shelf before handing her a foil packet.

“I have a feeling this is what you were after.”

She accepts the chocolate and tucks it onto the counter at her side as she mirrors him and leans against it too.

“Unsurprisingly, you’d be correct.”

He presses his lips together before his lips twist again, it’s the same expression from before that she knows means he wants to smile but he can’t quite commit, and she feels her body loosen like she wants to lean forward to press into him. She doesn’t though.

What she does instead is take a sharp breath and a step back. “Thanks.” She waves the bar of chocolate in the air before stepping around him and making her way back into the living room, forcing her steps to seem calm and collected as she feels his gaze heavy on her back.

“Anytime.” His words follow her out of the room, they’re a promise.

Luckily, Fenrys and Manon both ignore it when Rowan follows her and retakes his place next to her.

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin au #ndilyd #nobody does it like you do #cw: minor character death

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no-pucks-given · 3 years

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NILS HOGLANDER | SWEET LOVIN’

A/N: I wrote this imagine a few weeks ago for a few of my friends, since Nils is the only player we have in common. I did rewrite some parts today so I could post it on here as well. It’s just some ‘feel good’ smut with a message.

Warnings: A bit of angst and some talk about insecurities, sweet and soft Nils, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, some swearwords, and some more sweet and soft Nils.

Word Count: 3.8K

It’s hard dating a NHL player, every move they make, every step they take gets noticed by someone. Every mistake, every misstep gets noted down by someone. It’s tough to always be in the spotlight, especially for their relationships and family. You struggle with the amount of negativity you read on the internet about Nils, but also about you and your relationship. You know, oh you know you shouldn’t read anything they write. You should probably just stay clear of social media at all. It makes you feel insecure, and you know it’s stupid, but you can’t help yourself.

Of course there are also a lot of positive notes to read, but it almost seems like you only pick up the negative ones. It’s almost like you enjoy torturing yourself, even though that’s not true at all. You hate it, you absolutely hate it, and yet you can’t stop yourself from getting sucked into the negativity every time. Reading negative things about yourself is one thing, but hearing them in real life is a whole other category.

Today is one of those days. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you didn’t want to hear anything at all, but you did. You try to shrug it off, but luck isn’t on your side today. The girls follow you into the bathroom, still talking about Nils, about you, and about your relationship. You walk into the first stall you see, locking the door behind you. You try to catch your breath, keeping the tears at bay. There’s no way you’re going to cry with those girls around, you just can’t let them get to you that easy.

You brace your hand on your chest, trying to calm down your racing heart. Your head falls back against the door, slow breaths in and out. As soon as you feel like you have at least some of your composure back, you open the door. You lock eyes with one of the girls, who simply smirks at you. She turns to one of her friends, nodding her head towards you. “I told you she isn’t anything special,” she laughs, her eyes raking over your body. The other girls join her laughter, before turning their backs towards you.

You had no intention of running out, or letting these girls win, but they hit you with the one thing you’re most afraid of. What if you aren’t enough for Nils? What if he finds someone else? Someone better? You freeze, all of your insecurities hitting you at once. Afraid to fall apart right now and there, you turn around, bolting out of the bathroom.

There’s absolutely no way you’re staying here a minute longer than necessary. You came here to study, not to have a mental breakdown in front of all these people. It takes you exactly 3 minutes to pack up your stuff, pay your bill and make your way over to your car. The moment you sit down you drop your head on your steering wheel, letting the tears fall freely.

At some point you calm down, your insecurities still on the surface of your mind, but you know now those girls just tried to get under your skin. They tried to get some sort of reaction out of you, and you gave them exactly what they wanted. You sigh, shaking your head. It doesn’t matter. You know Nils loves you, you know you’re enough for him. You know it. So why is it so hard to accept it sometimes? Because you’re human, that’s why.

Your mood improved immensely by the time you get home. You see Nils’s car in the driveway, smiling softly at the fact he’s home already. The moment you step through the door you drop your bag to the floor, and kick off your shoes. You walk towards the living room, spotting Nils on the couch. “Hey, baby,” you call out to him. His head shoots up, surprised eyes looking back at yours.

“Hi, babe. You’re back early?” he says, questioning your early return. You shrug your shoulders.

“So, where’s my food?” he asks excitedly, looking around for the bag that should contain his food. You blink a few times, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, trying to remember when he asked for food. Nils spots your confusion, an annoyed sigh leaving his mouth. “Really? You forgot my food?” Nils sighs, hand brushing through his hair. “I texted you? Asking if you could bring me some food for after I finished my training?”

At this point you’re just annoyed, if he wanted food he could’ve called. Hell, he could’ve gotten food himself. “I didn’t receive a text, so obviously I didn’t bring you any fucking food, Nils,” you tell him, your words coming out harsher than you intended to.

He raises his eyebrow at you. “Fucking perfect,” he mutters, turning back around.

You sigh again, before pushing past your pride and past your own emotions. “Do you want me to make you something? I can just quickly cook something for you?” you ask him softly.

“Don’t bother, y/n,” he simply tells you, continuing his game.

“You know what, Nils? Go bother someone else if you need anything, but leave me the fuck alone,” you spit out, before turning on your heels and stomping towards the bedroom. You hear Nils yell something at you, but at this point you simply don’t care.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling one of Nils’s sweatshirts over your head, and climbing into bed. You just want to be alone for now, alone with your thoughts, alone with your insecurities. Just alone, engulfed in the cosiness of this bed.

After 30 minutes Nils realises you’re not coming downstairs anymore. He didn’t mean to be so annoyed when you forgot his food, it’s just that he’s really fucking hungry. It’s no excuse, but after an excruciating training he was so desperate for some food. He picks up his phone, scrolling through his messages until he finds your name. The moment he opens your chat he knows he made a mistake. There’s no message from him to you asking for food. “Fuck!” he curses. He realizes he fucked up, badly.

Nils makes his way upstairs, knowing damn well you deserve an apology for the way he acted. He quietly opens the door, eyes searching the room for you. He finds you curled up in bed, softly sniffling. Shit, he didn’t mean to make you cry, it’s the last thing he wants. Quietly he slips off his clothes, leaving him in just his boxers.

Gently he pulls back the covers, revealing your curled up body. He crawls in bed behind you, pulling you close to his body. He moves your hair to the side, revealing the soft skin of your neck. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, leaving a soft kiss behind your ear. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have been so mad at you, especially considering I didn’t send you any message about food,” he whispers against the shell of your ear.

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes through your sobs. “That’s so you, Nils,” you tell him. He chuckles against your neck, sending chills all over your body. “I’m sorry too, babe,” you sigh, “I just had a really shitty day, and I aimed my frustrations at you.”

Nils traces soft circles on your thigh, still kissing the exposed skin of your neck. “Why did you have a shitty day, y/n?” he asks you softly. You try to shrug his question off, but Nils feels there’s more behind it than you let on. “Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs.

You turn around in his arms, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “It’s just that these girls were talking shit about me, about our relationship, and it made me insecure. They made me doubt myself, and wondered if I’m good enough for you,” you mumble, trying your hardest to not relive their words and looks again.

Nils stills for a split second, before rolling over, crushing you under his weight. He wiggles himself between your legs, looking up at you with a serious expression. His hands move up to cup your face, making sure you’re hearing every word he’s about to tell you. “There’s no other woman for me out there, y/n. You are it for me, okay?” He looks at you expectantly, you nod your head at him. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, there’s no one who catches my eye like you do. No one, y/n.” he tells you, his eyes swirling with love, adoration. You listen to every word he has to say, every doubt you had leaving your body.

Nils looks at you, a wicked glint in his eyes, the smirk on his face promises you nothing but mischief. His hands slide from your face towards your breasts, squeezing them softly. “You have the most amazing tits, and I can’t stop touching them,” he says cheekily, giving you one of his boyish smiles. You laugh at his statement, but Nils isn’t done yet. His hands slide down further, cupping your ass in both his hands. “Your ass is so nice, I don’t even have the right words to describe it,” Nils says, squeezing each cheek.

At this point you’re a giggling mess underneath him, enjoying all the things he has to tell you, but mostly enjoying carefree Nils. His hands once again move, this time towards your panties. You gasp when he cups your pussy. “I fucking love your pussy, I can’t wait to bury myself inside of you again,” he groans out, clearly thinking about things that hopefully will happen.

“I love every single part of you, every single part of your body and every single part of your soul. I love it all. Do you know what my favourite thing is?” Nils asks, his eyes locked on yours. You shake your head, while Nils moves his hand towards your chest, putting his palm over your heart. “This. This is my favourite part of you, y/n. Your pure heart, full of love for everyone who deserves it, and maybe even for those who don’t deserve another second of your attention and time. Even though you’ve been hurt so many times, you still love with everything you have, unconditionally. It’s my favourite part of you, because you decided to love me.”

Your chest tightens at all the sweet words Nils tells you, all his love for you showing over and over again. You try to tell him you feel the exact same way, but the words won’t come out of your mouth. Instead you grab the back of his head, slamming your lips on his, hopefully showing him that you love and appreciate him just as much.

Nils groans against your lips, pushing his body further into you. You grind your hips against him, feeling his erection against your core. Nils licks across your bottom lip, softly asking you to open up for him. You comply, your tongue meeting his, swirling and twisting around the other. There’s no battle, no fight for dominance, it’s just simply you and him.

Nils’s eyes find yours, he does this every time you end up in bed, or anywhere else for that matter, every time he needs the reassurance and permission that it’s okay, that he can continue with his plans. It’s such a turn on and he doesn’t even know it. “Can I?” he asks you softly, playing with the hem of your sweater.

“You can,” you confirm, smiling softly at him.

His hands immediately grip the hem of your sweater, tugging it over your head, leaving you in just your panties. His eyes rake over your barely clad body. “I’m going to show you just how gorgeous you are, baby,” he whispers against your lips.

He claims your lips once more, his hand finding your breast. You moan into the kiss when his fingers close around your nipple, rolling the taut bud between them. Your hand moves down to Nils’s erection, but he swats your hand away. You raise your eyebrow in question at him, while he softly chuckles at you. “No, baby. This is all for you,” he says, his head lowering towards your neck. “and maybe a little bit for me as well.”

Nils gently sucks on the skin of your throat, making his way down your body. He makes sure he doesn’t skip any part of you, pampering every single inch of your skin with love and affection. His earlier sweet words, his loving way of caressing your body, drives you insane with need. Need for Nils, need to have him inside of you, need to feel him everywhere.

Your hand grips his hair when his mouth closes around one of your nipples, sucking the bud into his mouth. “Oh god, Nils,” you moan, the sensation moving through your body like lightning. While Nils gives your breasts the attention they deserve with his mouth and hand, he slowly pulls down your panties with his other hand.

His fingers find your dripping core, his thumb circling your clit. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me,” Nils groans out against your chest. You cry out as soon as he pushes two fingers inside of you, engulfing himself in your familiar warmth. Nils moves further down your body, while continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

His lips close around your clit, sucking the soft bundle of nerves into his mouth. You moan out at the sensation, gripping Nils’s hair tightly between your fingers. “Nils, please,” you beg him, not even sure what you’re exactly begging for. At this point it could be anything. You look down at Nils, his face buried between your legs. His eyes locked on yours as he eats your pussy like it’s his last meal.

You pull at his hair, trying to get his attention. “What do you need, y/n?” he asks you, before continuing his torturous ways.

“I need you, Nils,” you mumble, so far lost in the pleasure Nils gives you.

You can feel him smirk against your core. “Soon, baby. First I need you to come for me, okay?” he asks, even though you know it isn’t a question at all. You nod your head, so desperately for some kind of release.

It’s the way Nils murmurs soft praises and dirty words that send you falling over the edge. You come all over his fingers, his mouth, his name falling off your lips like it’s the only thing on your mind.

Nils watches the way you orgasm, he’s sure the blissful look on your face is his favourite part of making you come. The way all your stress, worries, doubts leave your body, he’ll make you come another thousand times if he could, just to see that look on your face over, and over. The way you clamp down on his fingers has his cock throbbing in his boxers. He can’t wait to feel you wrapped around him, to bury himself inside of you again, and again, and again.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he pulls back, fingers slipping out of you. Your mouth falls open as he slips his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. The wicked glint in his eyes tells you he isn’t finished yet. “You taste so good, y/n,” he says, before leaning forward, capturing your lips with his. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, everywhere. The experience so intimate, so raw.

Nils breaks the kiss, moving back to sit on his knees. His hand moves over his stomach, slipping underneath the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down enough to free himself from his confinements. His fist closes around his rock-hard erection, thumb spreading the already leaking precum over his tip.

He crawls back between your legs, opening you up wider for him. He braces himself on one arm beside your head, trying to keep his weight off you. His other hand grabs one of your legs, hooking it around his hip. You gasp at the sudden contact of his cock on your core. Nils smirks at your reaction as gently guides his cock between your folds, slowly pushing inside of you.

Inch by inch he slides inside of you, always watching for signs to see if you aren’t comfortable, if you aren’t ready for more. The moment he’s fully buried inside of you, he releases the breath he’d been holding in. “You okay?” he asks softly. You nod your head, pulling his face closer to yours. You press your lips on his, while Nils slowly starts moving inside of you.

Nils keeps his pace slow, deep, embracing every second he can spend with you like this. Connected, lost in each other, it’s never been better than right now. He can’t take his eyes off you, every single moan, every single sigh that leaves your mouth spurs him on to keep things slow, and intimate, relishing every single second spent inside of you. “I’ve never felt more alive, more at home than like this, y/n. Never,” he rasps out.

You wrap both your legs around his waist, allowing Nils to slide even deeper inside of you. He moans out at the feeling, sending chills all over your body. There’s just something about Nils moaning that turns you on more, and more. “You’re my home, Nils,” you tell him, nails digging into his back.

His slow, deliberated motions show you everything words can’t explain. This, the way he makes love to you, means more to you than words ever could. The connection between the two of you goes further than anything you ever felt before, it’s out of this world, absolutely astonishing. This goes further than love, further than lust, further than desire, it’s everything.

Nils brings you closer, and closer towards your orgasm, his thrusts deep, his words soft, sweet, and dirty, the perfect mix. His arm around one of your legs, keeping you even closer to him. You close your eyes, breathing turning erratic. Nils claims your lips once more, swallowing your scream of pleasure, when you finally shatter around him. Never, never felt an orgasm like this, your mind completely mush, while your body feels like it’s on fire. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, nails digging into Nils’s back so hard, you probably broke skin.

Nils lets himself go as soon as you reach your high, his own orgasm ripping through his body. “Fuck, fuck, y/n,” he groans out, emptying himself inside of you. Nils collapses on top of you, head buried in the crook of your neck. Aftershocks still rock through his body due to probably one of the most intense orgasms he ever had.

Your hand softly brushes through his hair, a content sigh leaving Nils’s mouth. “You okay there, love?” you ask him softly.

A raspy chuckle leaves his throat, before he raises his head. “Fuck, yes. That was mind-blowing.”

Nils rolls of you, crawling out of bed. He makes his way over to the bathroom, giving you a perfect view of his even more perfect backside. Nils catches you staring at his ass, when he looks back to you over his shoulder. He laughs, sending you a wink, before walking into the bathroom. You smile to yourself, how did you get so lucky with him?

Seconds later Nils comes back out of the bathroom with a damp washcloth in his hand. You smile softly at him, when he gently cleans up the mess you both made between your legs. “Thank you, Nils,” you tell him, appreciating his help and care, not only now but always. He shakes his head at you, crawling back in bed beside you.

He pulls you on top of him, arms keeping you close to him. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always take care of you, baby, always,” he mumbles against your hair.

“I know, but still. Thank you for showing me I’m stronger than my insecurities, it means a lot,” you mumble against his chest.

Nils sighs, softly placing a kiss on top of your head. “I’ll show you day after day that there’s no one out there like you. You’re special, y/n. I’ll never let you forget that,” he simply tells you, making you smile some more.

You lay on his chest for a while, listening to his steady heartbeat, the soft rise and fall of his chest. Nils grabs your chin, turning your face towards his. He softly pecks your lips, just needing to feel them on his once more, he simply can’t get enough of you. “You have no idea how much I love you, y/n,” he whispers against your lips.

You grin at him, you’ll never get used to hearing those words come out of his mouth. “I do, I absolutely do. You show me how much you care, how much you love me every single day, today is no exception,” you tell him. “I love you, Nils. I love you more than I can tell you, more than I can show you, more than anything in this world.” Nils grins at your words, his strong arms wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You giggle at his happiness, while Nils just pampers your face in more, and more kisses. “Stop it, you goof!” you laugh out loud, trying to wiggle out of his arms.

“Never, y/n! Never!” he laughs back at you.

It’s always like this between the two of you. You both love with everything you have, you cry together over stupid things, you fight and make up, but most of all you laugh. You laugh like it’s your final day on earth, like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. His smile makes your whole day, while your smile makes everything seem so simple to Nils.

If there’s one thing you’re absolutely sure of in this world, it’s that Nils loves you with every fibre in his body. He shows you day after day how much you mean to him, how much he loves you, and how much he appreciates you.

You know you’ll never let him go. You know he is the one, there’s no one else out there for you who can compete with Nils. You’re absolutely 100% sure Nils is your soulmate, your best friend, the one you want to grow old with, and you’ll spend every single second of every single day showing him exactly that.

#nils hoglander #nils hoglander imagine #nils hoglander smut #nils hoglander x reader #nils höglander #nils höglander imagine #nils höglander smut #nils höglander x reader #nils hoglander fic #nils höglander fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fancam #hockey fic #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction

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suite43 · 3 years

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this was a commissioned peice of writing for @princemai . If you're interested in a commission, dm me!

Adjusting to life after the war was never going to be easy. How do you coexist with the people who've been trying to kill you for millions of years? It didn't take a nihilist to think that the peace wouldn't last.

Bumblebee counted himself pleasantly surprised that, well, something seemed to last. Peace wasn't the right word, but at least it was less "endlessely killing each other" and more "the entire universe hates us and we can't really blame them". But for the most part, these days, things were peaceful.

That didn't mean it was easy.

You wouldn't call it easy to wake up next to the closest thing you'd ever had to an arch-nemisis wrapped around you. You wouldn't quite know what to do with the fact that as much as he hates to admit it, he's afraid of the dark. And you wouldn't blame yourself for waking up sometimes afraid that you'll find a knife at your throat.

It wasn't easy. But it was peaceful, more or less. Because when Starscream kissed him in that way he did almost every morning, gentle and still half-asleep, Bumblebee could nearly forget he'd ever thought of the mech next to him as dangerous, and a part of him would wonder why it hadn't always been like this.

But then they get up, and the day would go on, and even though there's peace now, there's a lot of history, and Bumblebee can't help but feel like they're both just waiting for everything to turn sideways.

Bumblebee wants to trust Starscream. And he does, on some level at least. Immensely so. Enough to have trusted him with the fate of the universe. But every argument, every time the banter hits just a little bit too close to home, every time Starscream slips back into a crueler, more violent version of himself, Bumblebee wonders to himself if maybe this is it. After all, it wasn't really that long ago that they were shooting at each other.

Starscream has the same thoughts. Obviously, he won't admit it, but it's easy enough to see through his acts once you know him well enough - When did Bumblebee start to know him well enough? How the hell did that happen? It all feels so fast - But sometimes when there's a certain tension in his wings and his fingers curl up ever so slightly and his eyes shoot around, planning his escape, Bumblebee knows that Starscream is just as scared as he is.

It's not always like that. There are moments when they're alone where it feels like none of that matters. They sit together on their couch and they're quiet as they both do their own thing, and Bumblebee shifts to lean against Starscream's shoulder and Starscream wraps one arm around him, his hand idly tracing small circles on Bumblebee's plating, and it just feels right. Bumblebee feels more safe there than anywhere in the universe, curled into the side of one of the most dangerous people in the universe. In a moment like that, he'd tear his spark out and put it in Starscream's hands if he asked him to.

But... It wasn't that long ago that he watched people he loved die at those hands. Those same strong, clever hands that slotted perfectly into his like they were built that way, like everything in their lives had led them to this specific touch. Bumblebee wasn't a big believer in destiny but sometimes everything would line up just so, and if he'd been slightly more of a romantic he'd've called them soulmates.

It was this confusing blend of love and hate, of forgiveness and grudge and grief and adoration that didn't make sense at all and yet when Starscream knows exactly what to order him when they go out it makes perfect sense. And, somehow, it works out.

They've never really talked about... well, whatever this is. It's clearly a relationship, at this point. It's hard to argue for 'just friends' after that many rounds of... well, you know what. It's equally as hard after catching each other after god-knows-how-many nightmares, after thousands of late-late-night conversations, after the way that making each other laugh became the easiest thing in the world, after the way that they would whisper sweet complements between each other like a secret because it was far too embarrasing to say loudly.

So yeah, it was a relationship. But "open, honest communication" was not exactly in Starscream's skillset, and, well, Bee wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about it either. Putting a name on it felt. Dangerous. Like it'd ruin it. There'd be too much pressure, too much commitment, too much... truth. It felt like confessing something that he wasn't ready for.

It was one thing to sleep with Starscream. It was another to, say, kiss Starscream. It was a third thing to literally sleep with Starscream, to trust the second-least-trustworthy person on Cybertron to be with him at his most vulnerable. But to be dating Starscream? To introduce Starscream as his partner? As his conjunx? That was a world of different things that Bumblebee was absolutely not prepared to handle.

What was he supposed to say? Oh, by the way, this is my conjunx. He's killed more people than my brain can even comprehend, but he also saved the universe that one time so it's totally cool now, don't worry!

But he loved him, and that was the problem. He loved Starscream so much, and he wanted everyone in the universe to know about the funny, thoughtful, brilliant person that he loved with all his heart.

And didn't it mean something that Bumblebee had seen Starscream at his absolute worst, and still decided that loving him was worthwhile? It wasn't like Bee was just flailing at the whims of his emotions, he chose to be here. Well, not the first time, that had just kind of happened. But after that, he'd chosen to stay, because loving him seemed worth the trouble of hating him, right? And Starscream was getting better, and that was a good thing.

And who was he worried about knowing? The handful of people Bumblebee would've bothered to tell if they did get married already knew the situation, and it wasn't exactly like either of them were really public figures anymore. The government job Windblade had gotten to keep Starscream busy was mostly just paperwork, and aside from the odd job here or there Bumblebee didn't do much. He'd basically retired. So they weren't going to be the talk of the town or anything. Besides, it's kind of old news, there'd been rumors of them doing something together pretty much since the second the war ended. It wasn't true then, but by now the scandal had kinda worn off and it was more of a "yeah, no shit" kind of gossip.

Still. A decade or so of closeness didn't really feel like long enough for a lifetime commitment, especially after what, four million years of hating each other beforehand?

But... Life is shorter than you expect it to be, right? They'd both died once over the course of this whatever-it-was. And the second time, they really had thought it'd stick, and Starscream sorta-haunting him from another dimension or whatever seemed like it was a permanent commitment, and that didn't scare Bumblebee at all. It sounded nice, not having to be alone again. This was like that, except he could be alone, sometimes, because neither of them could walk through walls or locked doors anymore so all he had to do for some privacy was tell Starscream to politely fuck off for a bit, which was a plus, right? Way more pracitcal.

"Can't we talk about this in the morning?" Starscream complained, eyes half shut, snapping Bumblebee out of his train of thought.

"What?" Bumblebee asked, confused.

"I don't want you to propose while we're drunk and you're rambling, idiot," Starscream was laying in Bee's lap, nuzzling his face into Bee's stomach plating. They were holding hands. When did that happen? "We can talk about it later."

Oh, shit.

"How much of that did I say out loud?"

"I dunno, you talk a lot. You're keeping me up."

"Shit. Sorry."

"S'okay. Your voice is nice."

"Oh." It was quiet for a minute.

"It's okay if you hate me. I get it," Starscream said.

"I don't hate you," Bee responded, blinking a few times, trying to shake off the feeling of spinning. "I like it when you're here."

"But you kind of have to hate somebody a little to love them, right?" Starscream shifted, staring up at the ceiling, head still resting on Bee's stomach. "I mean, it's hard to be with someone all the time. Especially when you're stubborn and stupid, and you do stupid obnoxious things and I hate it. But if you weren't those things I hate, you wouldn't entirely be you. And I don't just like parts of you, I like you, and I can hate things you do while still knowing that it's you, and I love who you are. Even when we piss each other off. It's still you. Right?"

"Do you think i'm stupid? I'm not stupid."

"You're missing the point."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing so much. I hate it when you apologize." Starscream's hand squeezed his a little tighter.

"Oh... uh. sorry."

"You make me feel... like..." Starscream just kind of trailed off.

"Yeah, I know. you too... uh. I mean. you make me. uh. you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"This is good, right?"

"Mmm, it's gonna feel shitty in the morning, but right now it's good."

"What about after tommorow?"

"I don't know. Ask me then."

"Hm."

"I don't have a plan, Bee. That's not normal for me. But I don't need you to tell me it's going to be like this forever, because it probably won't be. Things don't work out like that for us. But right now, for the first time in my entire life, I'm genuinely satisfied. Can we just enjoy that? I don't know how to be happy, Bee. I don't know how to handle it. But I'm trying to make this work. We can go back to shooting each other tommorow if that's easier for you, but right now, I'm happy."

"Yeah? Yeah. Me too. God, I'm happy," Bumblebee pulled their joined hands up, pressing a kiss to Starscream's knuckles where they intersected. "I'm happy that you're happy. I want you to be happy."

"I know," Starscream said. He muttered something else, but it was quiet and slurred and Bee couldn't quite make it out. In his head, Bee imagined it was something along the lines of I love you.

#the prompt was 'so why arent bee and starscream conjunxed' and i got to go from there #it was interesting! this is pretty stream of conciousness so i hope its interesting to yall as well!#red.doc #starbee #maccadams

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jungc6ck · 3 years

Text

Super (JJK x reader) Pt.1

🔥 Pairing: superhero/soulmate Jungkook x superhero/soulmate reader

💧Genre: superhero au, soulmate au, smut, angst

🔥 Rating: R (18+)

💧Summary: Jungkook was born as one of the lucky few to possess superpowers, so were you. He’s looked up to you ever since you’ve been fighting crime, so it makes perfect sense the universe would choose for you to be soulmates... unfortunately for him, you’re not even close to what everyone thinks you are. Behind that golden mask you wear is a less than golden person. Little does our clumsy and awkward hero know what you, this world, and the universe are about to put him through.

🔥Word count: 4k

💧 Warnings: cursing, violence, fighting, mention of sex and sexual acts and tiddies, future smut, future violence, future drinking problem, future mention of depression, future monsters (I’m just forewarning you that it’s going to get kind of dark)

“Hey! Pee-boy, wake up!”

Jungkook let out a little groan at the voice, letting it know he didn't appreciate the name-calling or being woken up.

“Jungkook” the voice now got growly and agitated.

Jungkook knew the voice, he just was too tired to respond.

“Get up!”

“How did you get in my room?” Jungkook muttered with his eyes still closed as he tried to roll over to escape Jimin’s nagging. His body rolled into unsupported nothingness and within a fraction of a second, his heart was racing right before his body made a collision with the cold wood floor. He knew he might as well wake up now.

Jimin cackled maniacally at the boy groaning in frustration and pain on the floor with his eyes now squinting open and looking up at his friend who sat in the chair at his desk beside the head of his bed.

“Your parents let me in.”

The only response the boy had was a sigh

“You know, because you’re twenty-three and still live with them… in their attic. To be honest it’s not even a cool lair.”

Jungkook finally sat up off of the floor and saw the neatly folded cloth Jimin had in his lap.

“Oh, this is for you. You should try it on.” He offered the fabric out to him.

Jungkook took it from him as he sat on the floor with his back against his bed and held it up the best he could to get a good look at it.

The spandex-looking material was a swirl of deep blue and silver reminding him of ocean waves at night.

“Thank you.” Jungkook gave his best friend a surprised but thankful smile before he went back to marveling at it.

“I can’t believe you made this, just for me.” He was astonished at his best friend’s talent.

“Well, you are my best friend… and a very special person. Oh! I almost forgot! The mask!”

Jimin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a navy blue silicone rubbery object and tossed it to Jungkook. “It ties in the back with a thin string to match your hair but the inside of it is made of the gell stuff they use in push-up bras to keep them in place.”

Jimin sounded proud of himself but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh until something dawned on him.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” Jungkook asked Jimin as his body froze up and mouth dropped open.

“Almost eleven-thirty.” His friend had pulled out his phone to check before replying.

“Shit! Work!” Jungkook jumped up and threw his new suit and mask on his bed before running over to his closet across the room.

“I’ll see you later, good luck today,” Jimin announced.

Jungkook had already grabbed a jacket and jeans and headed over to his friend now by the door to give him a quick hug and thank you, but accidentally and absentmindedly added a quick kiss to the side of his head which made Jimin laugh. Jungkook was in too much of a hurry to dwell on his mistake and too silly to take it back, plus Jimin had already left the room before he could even speak again. He grabbed a backpack and threw his new suit into it along with a few other things before leaving.

“Hell,” Jungkook mumbled to himself with an exasperated sigh as his shitty car refused to start for the third time. “Come on baby, you can do it.” He tried again “do it for me” with that, the noise of the engine roared to life, however it still sounded as though its life could end at any moment. “What a good girl.” Jungkook realized as he drove off the way he had been speaking to his car. He blushed a little to himself and was glad no one overheard it. He knew sometimes he could be a little oblivious to those things with never having sex even once in his life. Once a girl did let him feel her up though at her house while under the guise of studying back when he was in school. He had no idea she didn’t really invite him over to study for a science test, he didn’t even know when she was flirting with him until she got frustrated and asked him to kiss her and take off his shirt. Jungkook had gotten a little bored with it though and nervous around her and never went back over to her house. That couldn’t have been his soulmate, but sometimes he wonders if it had been since she had been the only girl to ever like him that he knew of.

He was twenty-three, lived with his parents, never went to college, never found his soulmate like everyone else has, and made pizza for a living. It wasn’t all that bad at least he was trying and at least he had a job. He was simply making due with what he was given in life and he was doing his best and that was what mattered… well that wasn’t exactly true… until recently.

He was given so much more than any average person, he had always just been too scared to use it or even tell anyone but his family and best friend. His best friend. Jimin had known him since they were both six years old. He was the first one to know about Jungkook’s powers and help him figure out everything he could do. A lot of the time he helped drive Jungkook and make him do what he needed to do and in return, he liked to listen to Jimin and help him solve problems in his life, or hear about his day. Jungkook knew he was lucky to have him as a friend, always supportive, always creative as a fashion designer should be, Jungkook felt lucky he didn’t ditch him a long time ago. Jimin was accomplished, on top of having a good job, he had found his soulmate already, a rich modeling agent named Taehyung.

Jungkook had asked Jimin before what it was like to meet him and he replied something along the lines of “when you meet your soulmate, you just know. It hits you hard, you both know the universe has put you together. It’s not just love, it’s something so much more, something… addicting.” He had also said he had seen Taehyung before in magazines and that Taehyung had seen him on tv, but nothing hit until they met in person.

Jungkook had always wondered if he even had one if he was meant for anyone at all especially with him being so different. His parents were soulmates, so were his grandparents. Everyone had one but maybe not him. Perhaps the universe had given him powers but no one to love.

He didn’t want to think about it so he turned up the radio as he drove slightly over the speed limit into the city where traffic seemed pretty bad today.

“Fire girl, what do you think of her? Who do you think she is?” A radio talk show that he was previously ignoring made his ears perk up at her name. He had been enamored with her for years now. Everything she did, every person she saved, everyone she fought, Jungkook had known about.

“I think she’s pretty, that’s for sure. As for who she is, I guess no one would ever know in a city this big, maybe if I came across her I would know. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere.” The second man said.

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff. They wouldn’t know. Not only did she wear a mask but he knew that a person’s hair and eyes changed when they activated their powers. She most likely didn’t even have red hair or yellow eyes in her everyday life, just like his hair wasn’t blue and neither were his eyes. Jungkook was just plain Jungkook when he wasn’t using his powers. It was obvious to him that everyone didn’t know that.

“What if it’s a wig?” The first man asked the second.

“Who’s got time to put on one? Especially with that whole skin-tight outfit. Where do you think she gets dressed? How do you think she knows when and where the trouble is?”

“She could wear it under her normal clothes.”The first man decided and that struck Jungkook as a good idea. “As for how she knows about crime? Maybe she listens to a scanner on the same frequency as the police? Perhaps she even just watched the news. All I know is that our city is lucky to have her.”

“Ahh I’m not sure about that. I’ve heard people born with powers are pompous jerks who think they can get away with anything, a lot of people think that.”

Jungkook had heard that too growing up. There were people like him and fire girl all over the world, while there weren’t many, some always seemed to get into trouble. That’s what stopped Jungkook from trying to be a superhero until now. He was afraid of looking like a dick-bag, he was even afraid of becoming one. Although Jimin assured him he could never be, he was still scared of slipping up. While some people didn’t care for superheroes, some people loved them, especially children. He just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he didn’t know if he was even good enough despite practicing in his backyard and taking taekwondo since he was a child. He wasn’t even comparable to fire girl.

As a child, he looked up to her, not just because she was pretty and cool, and could do so many things he couldn’t, not even because she had the exact opposite powers as he did. He looked up to her because she looked to be around his age, she made it all look so easy and she hadn’t been in any kind of scandal yet despite her five years as a public superhero. He thought maybe she was like him and that maybe she just wanted to do good in this world and not need the fame validation like some other heroes. Maybe she just wanted to help people like Jungkook did. He also thought that perhaps she might be grateful for some help.

This city was riddled with robberies, bad people, murderers, and just criminals in general, and even with knowing they would be stopped they all still tried for whatever reason. Jungkook also knew that the police in this town could be just as bad as the criminals and they were just as much egotistical jerks as some heroes were. Jungkook knew that just because you have power in any way didn’t mean you had to flaunt it and abuse it.

“She could be a terrible person, how would we know?”

Jungkook turned the radio off.

It was a hot summer day and working his butt off in a boiling kitchen with ovens going all day wasn’t what Jungook thought he would be doing when he was a child and imagined his future, although neither was using his superpowers and becoming a superhero. To be honest, he liked music, he liked to listen to it everywhere, at home, at work, even on his way to work and back. He had even gotten a guitar for his seventh birthday and spent years learning to play. He thought for sure he would be in some famous band by now and not just singing along to the radio while sweat-soaked his shirt in a pizza kitchen. His dreams weren’t what they were supposed to be, but he was fine with that, he was fine with thinking the universe would eventually just lead him to where he needed to be, and it was definitely about to.

There were ten minutes left of his shift, ten agonizing minutes where he was left alone to lock up the shop, finish cleaning up the place and turn the lights off. He was always left to close the shop alone, his boss trusted him to do it more so than the others, however, he still hadn’t made him a manager. The radio had been turned off and all that was left for background noise was the tv in the dining area that Jungkook let play on the news in hopes that he would see her on it as he swept the floor.

He didn’t unfortunately, but what he did see was live footage of a bank robbery that had turned into a stand-off with the police.

Jungkook froze and nearly dropped the broom in his hand as he watched the helicopter footage of the scene. The bank was close to him. He had his suit and mask in his backpack in the back, he could do this if he wanted to.

Adrenaline began to course through him at the thought. He bit his lip with his gaze on the tv as his options battled inside of him like violent crashing waves although he was calm on the outside. His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight minutes now until he could leave.

In an instant, he had made a decision. He took off running through the store, clocked out, and headed into the back where his backpack was.

He stripped down in the storeroom as his pulse hammered in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he knew he had to start sometime.

He felt odd being stripped down to his underwear at work while struggling to get his limbs in the tight, stretchy fabric with his hands shaking. He had gotten one foot in a leg hole but lost his balance and fell over onto the tile trying to get the other in. He decided that maybe getting dressed while laying on the floor was his best bet.

His hands still shook as he tied the back of his mask tightly around his head. He could feel the jelly-like side conforming to the curves of his upper face and wondered if this was how a boob felt in a push-up bra as he thought about what Jimin had said earlier.

“Okay.” he let out a shaky breath as he stood up from the floor “I’m not going to die today. I won’t die. Nope, not even once. I won’t die.” he chanted to himself hoping that implanting it in his brain would help him be safer while mustering courage. He let out a deep breath before he let his power wash over his body, knowing his hair and eyes just changed to blue.

“Let’s do this!” he said to himself with sureness and courage with clenched fists.

He locked up the shop, leaving his backpack with his clothes inside, and headed to his car just outside.

He had a fist full of keys, some for the store and some for his house and car. As he put his car key in the ignition and tried to start it, all of his courage died along with the engine.

“Balls!” he shouted as he smacked the steering wheel and tried again. The car simply wouldn’t start. “After I was so nice to you this morning?! Come on! I’m trying to be a superhero here!”

He tossed all the keys into the passenger seat and let the top of his head fall back into the headrest as he looked up at the roof of the car. He debated on giving up, but he decided against it. He could feel it, this was where the universe was leading him, today was his day.

The underwhelming but soon-to-be hero decided to briskly jog to the scene of the crime while people stared at him for the way he was dressed, cursing himself the entire way for being unable to fly.

Jungkook was met with a blocked-off street with police officers and cop cars scattered all over it. Jungkook hadn’t thought about how to get through the cops and into the bank. If he wasn’t going to get shot out here by the police for trying to get into a robbery, he would probably be killed by the robbers for simply just strolling in. The odds and his luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today.

“I’m a superhero, I should be able to just go on by them.” He told himself and decided to try it.

He walked past the roadblock but didn’t make it far.

“Hey, kid! Where do you think you’re going?!” Was shouted at him making him pick up the pace until he was at a full run for the bank door.

A lot of officers were shouting at him, but it was hard for him to understand them with the pleads in his head for them to not take him out, the noisy helicopter overhead, and the loudness of his heartbeat.

He almost crawled as he entered the glass doors of the bank as silently as he could.

It looked like Jungkook’s luck was turning around because not only were the masked robbers too busy stealing and yelling at people they had lying on the ground to see him, but they had their backs all turned to him. This was perfect.

Just as he raised a hand to do something one was suddenly knocked over making the other three robbers look in that direction.

Fire girl. She had dropped from seemingly nowhere and kicked one in the face before her feet even touched the floor.

There she was, in person, in action, and not just on tv. She now stood in the same room with him with her golden mask coving half of her face, her yellow eyes,doand bright red hair. Her skin-tight suit was a mix of yellow, orange, and gold. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he felt like it was melting his brain.

Before Jungkook could go into too many starstruck thoughts over it, his body told him to take action as gunfire began.

He raised his hand yet again and let a heavy and harsh stream hit one right in the back, knocking him forward so hard that his head hit the marble floor and the gun flew from his hand.

He had never done that to a person before, but his powers had done exactly what he wanted them to, just like always. For whatever reason, Jungkook was sure they would fail when the time came.

His heart raced as all eyes were on him now and his brain panicked with “holy shit, I’ really doing this”

“Who the hell are you?!”

The words didn’t come from anyone he was expecting, not a bank teller, not a civilian, not even a robber. It was fire girl who seemed lost.

Jungkook ignored it as he saw a gun now from one of the last two bank robbers being pointed in his direction.

Time seemed to slow as his body acted for him, getting low to the ground and holding out his hand for a powerful surge of water to release. It hit the man with the gun pointed at him directly in the face so hard Jungkook had thought it had broken his neck.

From his peripherals, he could see fire girl sweeping the legs of the last man and stepping on his neck.

And then there was silence.

Both he and the second hero collected the guns before Jungkook threw one of the robbers over his shoulder, then he went for a second one which he threw over his other one. Was he showing off his strength in front of a pretty girl? Yes. But it was working. She watched frozen for a moment as he took the two limp men over to the door and laid them in front of the glass for the police to see and gestured to them that everything was okay and that they could come in.

Dragging another robber across the floor and into the pile was fire girl.

Their eyes locked for just a moment and they both paused.

Jungkook was hit like an explosion, although it felt physical, he still stood frozen with his mouth dropped open. It felt like he had been shot but it wasn’t pain he had felt in his brain and chest, but with a powerful wave of ease and belonging. Although this feeling was new to him, there was a strange sense of deja vu about it as if he had lived and felt it before. His brain was in overload and began to shut down until nothing but static was left.

“Who are you?” She asked again but it was much much quieter.

Jungkook was at a complete loss for words.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice went bitter and cold as she now gave him a shitty look through with her yellow eyes drilling into him through her golden mask that covered the top half of her face.

Again, Jungkook didn’t speak.

“YOU COULD’VE DIED!! It was obvious you didn’t know what the hell you were doing!” She was now pointing her finger angrily right in his face so close he felt his eyes cross.

“You stay the hell out of it amateur! Don’t EVER get involved in something like this ever again when you have no training and no control over anything in this situation ESPECIALLY when you have no control over your powers! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You’re an idiot and you could've made this job so much harder for me!”

She yelled at him while all that Jungkook could think about was what the hell he was feeling and going through and how beautiful and powerful she looked when she was yelling at him.

“I-I-“ Jungkook was trying to muster the brainpower to speak “but everything was okay.”

He had been so lost in her that he didn’t even see it coming when he was tackled to the ground and his arms were forcefully bent behind his back.

A police officer was sitting on his back and applying cold metal handcuffs to his wrists.

“Ow ow ouch.” He winced at the crushing weight on his back and the bending of his arms which he thought might snap like the delicate bones of spicy chicken wings. He could see the feet of the hostages beginning to file out of the building, some in tears from their traumatic experience.

“Why am I being arrested?” he asked wondering why he was being treated like a bad guy when he had just saved people and why wasn’t fire girl being arrested as well.

He was pulled to his feet by the handcuffs and patted down.

“You were unauthorized to enter this building. You interfered with law enforcement.”

Jungkook wanted to tell the cop that law enforcement wasn’t even doing anything to assist in the situation anyway, but he knew that would be a bad move and didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

“Why isn’t she being arrested then?” he nodded his head towards the other hero.

“She’s fire girl. She’s a superhero.” the officer answered simply.

“TELL THEM!” Jungook begged her in desperation.

“Tell them what?” she crossed her arms and spoke with a sour tone.

“Tell them I helped.” he urged.

“But you didn’t.”

She was lying and they both knew it, however, the cop didn’t, and began to drag Jungkook away and out the door.

In the open, people swarmed. Onlookers, reporters, ambulances, fire trucks. Everyone was watching him get arrested as if he had robbed the bank himself.

He was stuck into the back of a cop car for far too long. He even got the chance to see flame erupt from fire girl’s feet and watched as she flew away. Was she a jerk like many other superheroes? Or did she just not want to see him get hurt? Jungkook chose to believe it was the second one. After all, his soulmate couldn’t be a lying jerk-bag, could she?

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #bts #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff

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alonfic · 3 years

Text

forget the world

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader genre: established relationship au | fluff wc: 1,763 description: despite all the obstacles life has to throw at you, there’s comfort in knowing that home actually feels like home for once; also, that you have your boyfriend Shouto’s arms to take refuge in. author’s note: i honestly just wanted well-regulated, temperate cuddles with shouto. also backrubs. yes <3

Today is an unbearably long day.

It’s one of those days that goes beyond words and replays in the back of your mind, with needless postulations of what-if’s nagging you as you walk through the paradoxical door. Somehow the reminder that this is both a familiar and unfamiliar entryway slips your mind in favor of exhaustion and starvation for your boyfriend’s touch.

If you were paying any attention to that realization, you would’ve been a little proud of yourself from graduating from the first-time cohabiting couple anxiety to finally accepting this new territory. But you don’t.

You don’t rejoice in the fact or relish in it so much as you douse yourself in scalding hot water to baptize yourself from the work grime, because all you can think about is Todoroki and what it’ll be like to settle into his arms. His perfectly well-regulated and temperate arms that you’ve sworn he’s perfected to your respective likings over the two-year long course of your relationship.

Just the prospect is enough for you to saunter back into the room, despite your hair still being a little damp. Another small win you don’t think too much about is how you hardly have to attempt to navigate the dark room without help from any light; it’s a step up from a few weeks ago when you were constantly bumping into the bedside table.

A part of you then wonders if he’s still awake, though when you really think about it, you’re almost certain that he would be asleep by now. Considering it’s much later than your usual arrival time, you would be surprised if he was still awake.

When you hear him stir before you’ve even touched the corner of the comforter, you’re shaken from your thoughts.

“How was your day?” he asks, with his voice a touch closer to sleep than usual. It’s not rare for him to be so tired, being third ranked Pro Hero and all. He’s a busy man, so you’re still a little surprised that he’s been awake every night since you’ve started living there. Tonight, especially.

“It was long,” you mumble. Your next words are all intermingled together from how your jaw hardly wants to keep working anymore. “M’tired.”

Even in the faint wash of moonlight spilling in from the half-open blinds, you can see that his eyes are closed. He still looks as handsome as when you first met him, probably even more so now. This time he looks more relaxed, save for the slight crease in his brow that gives you the impression that he seems to be a little more awake after hearing your response.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, while raising the corner of the comforter, “was work crazy for you again?”

You accept his invitation; while he remains on his back, you settle partially atop his chest, your left leg almost immediately entangled with his, and part of your right side still touching your side of the bed. It’s second nature to wrap your arms around his waist and find ease in the way his heart flutters, like a tether, keeping you from completely losing your mind. But what damn near throws you over the edge is the way his arms wrap around you, as if to keep you from falling apart entirely. For once, you feel whole.

You don’t realize there’s a tremble in your voice until you try to answer his question, and the moment you hear it, you try to nod in its place.

“Hey,” he rubs your back with what you’ve identified as his left hand, the slight warmth being a dead giveaway. “What’s wrong, love?”

It’s no surprise that life has been rough for you as of late. Between moving in together for the first time, recovering from a particularly nasty cold, juggling graduate school applications, and thrusting yourself back into work, most of the overwork is from your shitty manager and another part of it being your pride; it’s all an unfortunate combination that has left even Todoroki disgruntled. But because of the moving newness, you can tell he’s been trying to help your transition to the best of his ability. And you hate that all you can think about is work and school, and how the future is so painfully uncertain, while your present is right here.

“M’sorry, Shouto,” you say, with tears prickling the corners of your eyes, after regurgitating the same spiel of how hectic and understaffed work was, all while your boss got to sit upstairs without a care in the world because that’s how crappy he is. Of course, you don’t want Todoroki to see you crying, least of all over this, but one of his fingers catches your chin and you can feel his thumb wipe away a stray tear.

“Oh baby…” He pulls you in closer and squeezes. His other hand is still on your back, now rubbing circles. It’s a nice attempt to soothe away the anxieties and overwhelm, something only he’s ever been able to pull off with you on a handful of occasions.

“What are you sorry about? You have no reason to be sorry.” His tone is so matter-of-fact you almost want to laugh. You actually do when he mentions how it’s your boss who should be sorry for overworking you. “What? It’s true.”

You can’t help but crack a small smile after a while. How cute could your man possibly get? His earnestness has always had a way with you; it hasn’t once wavered in all your time together, and that kind of consistency is something you never thought you needed until you met him, moments like this remind you how lucky you are.

“You always seem to know how to make me feel better, you know.”

“Yeah?” You can see the corners of his lips turned upward, and it compels your smile to grow a little more.

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad,” he says, meeting your eyes, though his smile doesn’t waver. You love being privy to the sight; his smile is another thing you love so ardently about him. “I’ve been trying. I’m sorry that the last couple of weeks haven’t been the easiest and that this place doesn’t feel like home for you, yet.”

You want to protest, of course, though there is some truth to his words. It has been hard. Probably harder than it should’ve been, but with work, getting sick, and application, you felt like you were playing in an entirely different game. You didn’t think life would be so hectic when it’s been only easy with Todoroki, but you know he’s been trying.

Despite his previous routine of instantly falling asleep before you moved in, you have noticed him making an effort to stay awake long enough to at least bid you a good night or ask about your day. It’s an endearing gesture that warms your heart, one that you know is a direct by-product to the move and his attempt at getting you to feel more comfortable in the new space.

Another thing he’s done (that you appreciate immensely) is letting you redecorate the space—this is one that Uraraka hasn’t stopped gushing over because she’s been fighting with Midoriya over their decór for ages. The bedroom—in all its grandeur and spaciousness—and really the entire apartment had already been equipped with modern furnishings from the beginning of Todoroki’s lease on the place. He hadn’t felt any inclination to change anything, up until you started living with him, and then he offered to let you personalize the place in whatever way you saw fit. For you, that looked like incorporating more photos of the two of you as well as you two with friends, and a few knick-knacks here and there on the now-filled bookshelves.

They’re small reassurances that he is happy you’re here, that even if work is shitty and school applications are a pain in the ass, he at least wants you comfortable in your now-shared place.

“It’s okay,” he says, like he’s mentioned many times before, not that he’s all that bothered anyway, because still, he wants to reassure you. “And it’s also okay if this doesn’t feel like our place yet.”

“But it does.” And you mean it.

While the thought hadn’t fully hit you as soon as you walked through the door at first, it seemed to materialize right this moment. The last thing you want to do is make Todoroki feel like you’re still some foreign invader in your shared home. Yeah, it’s been a huge change to go from a couple who slept at each other’s places to reconvening in one space where all your things congregate together, but it’s a change of pace in your life you feel the most at ease with. Most especially, if it means coming home to him.

“Really?” He sounds genuinely surprised, and you feel the sheepishness rising back up again.

“Yeah, if anything, this has been the most apparent thing to me today. All I could was, I want to go home, to you, and be in your arms because today was so shitty. Today didn’t feel like I was just going back to your place anymore. It felt—feels—like our place. Our home.”

“I like that a lot. The sound of our home.”

“Me too.”

“Is there anything else bugging you?” he asks, wanting to be sure. The gesture makes your heart swell, how thoughtful he can be, how hard he tries to fight for some semblance of peace out in the world, and of course, your home.

You think about it. You really do. If there’s anything worth wasting your energy on, but you don’t want to disrupt this moment. You don’t want to keep giving your workplace—temporary as it is—any more of your time when you’re here. And anyway, any inkling of what could have been the culprit seems to dissipate the longer you remain in Todoroki’s arms.

“No, I’m okay. I can forget all the momentarily shitty things when I’m here with you. That’s usually the easiest part. The best part too.”

You can make out his smile, beautiful and so his, before he presses his lips to your forehead. If there’s anywhere you would rather be, it’s here.

“I love you,” he exhales, squeezing you once more. He continues to rub circles into your back, sometimes alternating between patterns; always, adding a touch of warmth to combat the particularly chilly air.

You squeeze back, relishing in it all. “I love you too.”

And for once, everything else drifts away. Just you and him.

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

He's invited to their engagement party. Levi doesn't know if it's a cruel joke or a horrible misunderstanding. Quite frankly, he's not sure what's worse. He decides not to go either way. He doesn't think his heart can take it. And he doubts he'd be a welcomed guest there anyway.

But then Moblit visits their office. He doesn't come to Hange, doesn't bring flowers or other gifts. No, he goes straight to him.

"Can we talk, Levi?" he pocks his head inside, smiling slightly. The smile is painfully awkward, and yet endlessly sincere. What a fucking sweetheart, Levi thinks bitterly. So different from him. Perhaps, that's why Hange chose him in the end.

"What do you want?" he grunts, staring at his computer screen and trying to appear busier than he actually is. But Moblit either doesn't get the hint, or doesn't care. Wearing that same damn smile, he walks further into Levi's office and sits down on a chair that stands by his desk.

"It's about the engagement party," he gets straight to the point, almost leaving Levi breathless. The audacity... And he thought the other man was a sweetheart. "You're the only one who didn't give an answer..."

Levi hopes Moblit doesn't ask for his reason. Calling Hange's fiance a fucking moron would probably destroy what little relationship they still have.

"I know your history with Hange isn't the simplest one..." the smile falters for a second, but doesn't leave Moblit's face completely. "But she still holds you in high regard. She would want you to be there for her."

What an insolent fucking bastard. Wants him to be there? Wants to have his heart ripped out, more likely. Levi doesn't believe Hange is that cruel.

But if what Moblit tells him is true... If Hange really wants him to come, then he simply has no choice. He always had trouble with saying no to her, after all.

He makes this hard decision surprisingly easy.

"I'll be there, don't worry," he tells Moblit.

The man beams. He reaches out and catches Levi's hand, shaking it heartily. "Thank you so much," he says. "It'll mean so much to Hange, and I just want to make her happy, you know?"

More than you'll ever know, Levi thinks.

But, truth be told, he doesn't understand Moblit. If he was in his place - and there was a time where he almost was - he would never invite Hange's assholish ex to their engagement party, he'd rather kick his ass, and hard. But, perhaps, that's the difference between them, the difference that made Hange choose Moblit over him. Moblit places her happiness well above his own. And Levi can't thank him enough for that.

He can try, though.

"Thank you as well," he murmurs, and for a moment, Moblit's eyes fill with confusion. But then that second passes, and he seems to understand him, and his gaze softens, as he gives Levi a small nod.

"See you soon," he says, and leaves Levi's office.

He stares at the closed door for another minute, trying to understand what had possessed him to agree to it. To willingly go and celebrate Hange's engagement to another man... Something is definitely wrong with him.

That's called torturing yourself, a malicious voice in his head whispers.

Levi's intent to agree.

***

He realizes what a mistake he made pretty quickly. Two seconds after entering the café Moblit had rented out for the occasion, to be exact.

He walks in, sees Hange and Moblit in a middle of a room, dancing, while everyone cheers on them, and wants to walk out immediately.

The song choice is awful as well. He always hated Walk the Moon.

He's still by the door, and, maybe, if he leaves now, no one would notice. He almost turns back but then-

Then he remembers.

She would want you to be there for her

With a deep sigh that gets lost in a loud beat of music, he walks inside. He moves as discreetly as possible, avoiding everyone's curious eyes, as he tries to find a seat in the deepest, darkest corner of the café.

He finds it, fortunately. And, surprisingly, someone is already occupying it. His eyes widen, as he recognizes Petra. Soft-spoken and sweet, she can't exactly be called a life of the party. Yet for her to be hiding in the corner... It's a little bit strange, Levi can't deny it.

His thoughts about Petra are chased away when a new song comes in.

Oh, her eyes, her eyes

Make the stars look like they're not shinin'

God, if there is someone he hates more than Walk the Moon, it's Bruno Mars. The song is fitting though, he can't deny.

She is perfect just the way she is.

He turns away from Petra and heads for the bar.

He orders vodka on the rocks for himself, and - because he can be a gentleman sometimes - he also asks for a cocktail that is so sugary it can probably give one cavities for Petra.

When he sits next to her, handing her a drink, Petra smiles and thanks him. A faint blush colors her cheeks too, but Levi ignores it, churning it up to the poor lighting of the room. He ignores Petra's attempt at conversation as well, gladly he has all the reason to - the music is too loud to hear anything else. For once, Levi is thankful for that.

Petra keeps glancing at him, though, and the red on her face gets more prominent, and with a deep sigh Levi turns to her.

Petra is pretty, incredibly so. Only a blind wouldn't see it. Only a blind wouldn't see her obvious crush on him as well. Petra is sweet and pretty, maybe, he should talk to her. Maybe, it'd ease some of his heartbreak. Not all of it, obviously. Only one person can do it. The person who is still twirling around with the man who is not him.

His hand is almost reaching to her, his fingers are almost at her forearm, when a fucking photo montage begins.

Set to A Thousand Years.

He curses and bolts out of his place. Even he is not masochistic enough to watch hundreds of photos with the love of his fucking life in the arms of another man.

He walks outside and takes a deep breath. His tense muscles relaxe instantly when the sounds of music and laughter and delighted cheering fades away. He leans against the bricked wall and directs his gaze up to the sky. Stars aren't visible yet, the wind is slightly too harsh to be standing in just jacket and shirt and he forgot his cigarette pack, but Levi chases those complaints away.

He's almost content and he intends to stay this way, but then-

The door opens, and Levi turns to it with a scowl, thinking that it's Petra who decided to follow him. He realizes his mistake immediately, and his breath hitches, when he is met with those brown deep eyes.

Fuck.

He swiftly tears his gaze away, suddenly extremely aware of his heartbeat.

"Sorry!" Hange chuckles, the sound too hollow to be genuine. Out of the corner of his eyes, Levi sees her running a hand through her hair, messing it up even more. "I didn't wish to-"

"You didn't," he breathes out. He closes his eyes for a second, mustering all of his courage, and then looks up at her. "The street is wide enough to fit both of us. Stop being an idiot, four-eyes."

The nickname slips easily from his lips. It is only after he said it, only after he sees the shaken expression on Hange's face that realizes he hasn't called her that ever since their breakup.

He doesn't acknowledge his mistake. Bringing it up now means opening another can of worms he's not sure he can get through. Having Hange so close to him is already hard enough.

"Why aren't you inside?" he asks, attempting to sound nonchalant and not getting even close to achieving it. "A fience shouldn't skip her own engagement party. Especially when the photo montage is on..."

"Oh please," Hange huffs. "I stared so much at these photos while we selected them, I am getting sick just by looking at them. Besides," she pouts. "Moblit didn't let me share our private photos."

In spite of himself, Levi chuckles. "Are you saying photos like that exist?"

Hange snickers too. "Oh god, of course, they do not. I think Moblit would have a heart attack should I even offer to take a photo like that."

"So you're saying your fiancé is boring?"

Hange scoffs, and elbows him in a side. "I'm saying he's orderly."

"Same thing," Levi shrugs, and Hange laughs.

His treacherous heart skips a beat. Something warm spreads through him, as he listens to Hange's laughter. It grows warmer and spreads further, until it feels like he's enveloped by a sunlight - he's content, relaxed and happy. Hange always had such an effect on him.

She was the only who ever did.

"Thanks for coming," she tells him, after her laughter subdues. "I know it's probably awkward..."

"It's fine," he shakes his head.

"It's good to see you, Levi," a smile plays on her lips, the sweet and soft one that Levi always thought was reserved exclusively for him. He wonders if that is still true.

"It's good to see you too," he murmurs. "I'm glad you're happy, Hange," he adds, looking at her. There is a stray lock of hair right next to her nose, and he gently pushes it away, tucking it behind her ear. "If you need anything, know that I'm here for you. I always will be."

He turns away and leaves after that, before he does something stupid like confess his undying love.

That's probably the last thing Hange wants to hear anyway.

He walks inside the cafe and returns to Petra's side. He looks at her, the words "want to ditch that shitty party?" almost at the tip of his tongue. But then Hange walks back in and their eyes meet across the room. She lifts her lips in a smile and tentatively raises her hand, waving at him. Levi nods, fighting back a smile of his own. His eyes still soften, though.

The hand he had outstretched towards Petra falls limply to his side.

Maybe, she'd help him forget, maybe, she'd ease some - not all, obviously - of his heartache.

But, apparently, he's not a complete asshole, because he can't do it - not to Petra, not to himself.

Not to Hange.

He lifts a glass to his lips and turns his gaze to the small stage. There Moblit is telling some story - either about their first kiss or their first date, Levi doesn't listen to him at all. Instead his eyes are focused on Hange - the faint blush on her cheeks, her glistening eyes, as she keeps laughing, laughing, laughing. Their gazes lock for a second, and her eyes turn just a little bit brighter.

At least one of them is happy. Levi revels in that.

#ok!!!!!! sorry sorry sorry!!!#there's /definitely/ going to be another one!!!!#and that one would be happy!!!!#levihan

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