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jeanbie · 1 year

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ACTS OF LOVE ★ masterlist.

pairing: attack on titan characters x reader

genre: platonic, bffs au | wc: 7.4k

⏤ As long as you’ve got a good group of friends, anything is possible. Thankfully, you’ve got the best group you could ever ask for.

(01) taking pics of ur friends without them asking u to bc they looked so pretty in that exact moment

“Well, at least the views not so bad. Honestly, I thought it would be a lot worse.”

Beside you, at the top of the bleachers that surround the large football pitch below, Eren huffs and kicks his feet up onto the empty row in front of him. It would be easy to just move rows, considering the game’s due to start in ten minutes time, and there’s plenty of empty seats closer. But, he’s bought these seats, and by the looks of things, Jean and Connie are already comfortable where they are, sharing a big bag of sticky popcorn between them. Casting a look to the right, you notice that Historia and Sasha are making their way up, dressed in jerseys and caps, and you suddenly feel very out of place.

“Tell me why I came again?” you ask, not looking away from the pitch below. The grass is bright green, and every wandering body down on the pitch is just a small speck.

“Because,” Eren starts, unlocking his phone and checking his messages. You snoop- one missed text from Mikasa and two off his Mom, which makes you smile. Eren’s always been a Mommy’s boy. “You love me, and you know that I worked my ass off for two whole months saving up for these tickets. And, since Armin’s sick and couldn’t come, you decided to be a good friend and take his place.”

With a frown, you look back towards Eren. “I don’t know shit about football.”

“Cheer when we do,” Eren suggests honestly.

Jean perks up, patting your arm roughly. “Do what I do, and cheer for the team with the prettier uniform.”

“Don’t!” Eren hisses, grabbing you back. “The other team have a prettier uniform, but if you cheer for them on this side of the stadium, you’re going to get mobbed. Hey, Jean, don’t tell her that, she doesn’t know any better.”

“Just football,” Jean shrugs.

“Just football…” Eren scoffs and shrinks back down in his seat.

You laugh quietly, petting Eren’s leg with faux sympathy. As you move your body to glance around the stadium, strangely anticipating the start of the match, a flash out the corner of your eye makes you look over in Connie’s general direction. Connie holds his phone up, taking a photo, and then smiles as he checks it on the screen.

“Connie Springer, delete it now!” you gape, realising what he’s done. “Oh my God, I bet I look so ugly…you could have warned me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs sheepishly. He then shows you the screen, “you looked pretty! And it’s your first live match ever, we had to document it. Jean, look. Wow…I’m sending this to Armin for proof that you’re having fun.”

“What if I’m not having fun?” you ask.

He glances up, “you are.”

(02) randomly giving tiny gifts (a comic book that ur friend likes, a heart-shaped piece of paper with a sweet message on it)

“Can anybody here share the exact chemistry behind Elephant Toothpaste?”

Chemistry is the absolute bane of your life. It’s only been a few weeks, and you’re already regretting taking additional classes in it. Technically, it was Reiner’s fault you were here in the first place. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was too much of a pussy to enrol into classes alone and therefore had guilted you into taking advanced chemistry with him, then you wouldn’t be here. You sigh for the fourth time in the last ten minutes and shove your chin into the palm of your hand. The clock above Professor Han’s head seems to be still, taunting you with zero movements.

Can boredom kill you? You wonder about that, letting your mind wander as Professor Han continues to quiz the front two rows on the exact chemical formula of the affectionately named Elephant Toothpaste. You’re so close to finding the answer when you feel somebody poking your upper arm. The finger that pokes belongs to Reiner, and you angle your head to look at him with a questioning glare.

Reiner smiles. Like you, he rolled out of bed this morning and tried his best to look semi-presentable; if you counted borderline pajama wear and a serious case of bed-head to be presentable and acceptable for a 9am lecture. Reiner says nothing, just smiles and pushes something towards you with two fingers. The sound of the paper sliding towards you brings your gaze down, and as you look away to stare at it, he returns his attention to Professor Han. Bare in mind, his notebook is empty, save doodles of someone on the front row, occasionally losing focus and staring around the room for long periods of time.

What Reiner has pushed before you is a small little piece of paper, smoothly cut into a heart shape. Now the sound of scissors makes sense… It’s just scrap paper from the back of his notebook, decorated with tiny stars and circles, a pathetic hand drawn galaxy on the front like a book cover. You slowly pick it up, more interested in this than the lecture. You turn it over curiously, your heart thumping endearingly and a smile picking up on your face as you read what he's written on the back.

you and me have some serious chemistry. love u

Reiner refuses to make eye contact again. He’ll say something along the lines of, “you’re taking it too seriously” when you’ll no doubt ask him about it later, but really, Reiner’s just a softie, with the sudden need to tell his friends that he loves them. You’re not complaining.

(03) handwritten letters with cute stickers

Something’s been left in your shared kitchen, something with your name on it and closed in an envelope with a small Gudetama sticker. You set your cup of tea to the side, sliding up onto a stool near the breakfast bar to read it. The front is in a bold font, in handwriting you don’t really recognise. Careful of the time and effort put into the appearance, you carefully open the envelope and take out the contents.

Y/N Good morning. I hope you slept okay - when I came by last night after judo to see Annie, you were actually passed out on the couch in the common room so I piggy backed you up to your room. Hehe, your room is so dirty though…I think I definitely tripped over a plug that connected your fairylights, so sorry if that doesn’t work anymore. Anyway. I left this morning and left you some nice tea and some tablets (Annie said that I should put them in your bathroom, so I literally just left them on your sink). I know you haven’t been having a fun time with midterms and you need to take care of yourself! If you get too sick and can’t do anything, then how will we eat?? You’re our uni mom!!! We need to live too!!!!! D: I also rented out Harry Potter for later. I know you get really sad and lonely when you’re stressed out, and so we can watch it together when I’m home after my shift at work :D Hehe, feel better <3 Just remember that your bestie loves you!!! Drink tea and stay warm :) Lots of love, Armin :D

The paper is signed with Armin’s messy handwriting, like he ran out of time as he was writing it. The page is littered with tiny Gudetama stickers and the sight of it makes you smile. Along with other little notes people have left for you over the last few months, this one earns a spot on your cork board above your desk.

(04) remembering what ur friend likes or dislikes

You were so late.

Almost getting run over by a bus in the process, you sprint across the small road that separates your flat and the University central campus, missing a deep puddle as you step up off the road and onto the pavement. It pours, your hair soaked and makeup no doubt running and staining your cheeks. Holy fuck, you were so late.

Every Friday, without fail, Flat 6 (aka the large flat you share with your best friends) host an annual movie night, inviting literally all of your extended friendship group which definitely is not allowed, but who cares? You noticed Ymir’s car pulled up in the car park next door and curse again, knowing you’re the last one to arrive to a movie night you’re technically hosting.

You rush up the stairs, since the elevator is still down for maintenance, and burst into the flat with an announcing groan. From somewhere in the living room, Sasha looks up with happy surprise and jumps up off the couch, approaching the hall.

“Y/N! You made it.”

You wince, smiling as you hang up your coat to drip dry on the mat near the door. “Yep. I made it. To my own movie night. That I’m technically helping host.”

“No sweat,” Sasha shrugs. “It’s okay. Here, I’ll dump your bag in the closet. Get changed, I think they're still preparing snacks, anyway.. Annie was in the kitchen a minute ago.”

“Okay. Thanks, Sash.”

She gushes, smiling and raising her shoulders cutely. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

Sasha swiftly takes your bag from your clutches, faking the weight with the droop of her knees just to hear you laugh, and then she turns to shuffle down the hall to quite literally toss it into the shared storage closet. You’re not too worried; on days like today, in which you have one 1 hour seminar to attend at 5pm and nothing else, there’s nothing inside your bag worthy of being broken by Sasha throwing it to the ground. As she does this, you shudder out of your shoes and make your way to your bedroom, to change into something warm and comfortable for the movie.

The sound of laughter makes you hurry to change, one leg out of your damp and cold jeans whilst simultaneously fishing for some old jogging bottoms out of your bottom draw, a jumper from Annie that she thought she lost left for you to grab on your bed. What she doesn’t know and will find out in five minutes won’t hurt her. (Annie also doesn’t care, because she’s a whipped best friend who lets you do what you want, including steal clothes she actually needs and can’t really afford to replace. Oh well, sharing is caring!).

Your hair is still soaked, and you move towards the single bathroom squeezed between two bedrooms to ring it out in the sink. Once you’re done, and your hair is thrown up into a scrunchie-decorated pony, you pace back towards the kitchen where, rightly so, Annie stands with her back facing you, filling up a glass with Pepsi.

“I thought we threw that shit out,” you announce as you walk in. “You know this flat is Team Coca Cola, those are the rules.”

Annie sighs, not looking up. “Yeah, I know, but Erwin is a monster.”

“He’s so annoying…why can’t he just admit that Coke is better?” you sigh, moving towards Annie to see the small bowls of snacks she has ready to be taken into the living room. It’s full in there, people stuffed onto the sofas and the floor where a bed of blankets lies like a mattress.

Annie's outdone herself; the bowls are neatly organised by colour and ingredient, and you smile. Annie was a lot of things, one of them a secret perfectionist. Even when it concerned bowls of snacks. God, you love to love her.

“Erwin’s a man of unpopular opinions, I mean, he really thinks the live action of The Lion King is good, like, who actually thinks that?” Annie rants, and then she glances to the side towards you, is silent for a moment, and then asks, “is that my jumper?”

You look down at it with a smile. “Yep. It’s comfy.”

Annie hums, like she’s bored. “Whatever, looks better on you than it did on me. Who the fuck lied to me and told me dark green was my colour…?”

“Every colour is your colour,” you say, patting her back and reaching for the bowls. “Should I take these in?”

Annie then nods, humming again. “Yeah. Yellow bowl is for you, by the way.”

You look to it. “And why is that?”

“Cause I know you don’t like the barbecue flavour chips that are in the red bowl, but everyone else does, so I went out and got you the salty ones. Oh, and there’s a bar of Galaxy in the fridge. Don’t tell Reiner, cause he’ll get pissy about how I didn’t get him something.”

As Annie tells you this, your heart flutters. You had told her that when you first met, after she offered you some of her chips noticing you were the only person not eating.

“You remembered that?” you wonder, and Annie looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“I’m a good friend,” she states, as though it were obvious. “Don’t get it twisted, though. I only did it because I don’t want to hear you complaining about it all night.”

You’re sure that’s a lie, but if it makes her feel better, you’ll accept it. You’ll also ignore the embarrassed tinge of red on her cheeks.

(05) inside jokes

[15:16PM] eren: alright fuckers 🔪😡 [15:16PM] eren: who left the kitchen window open all damn night [15:17PM] eren: there’s three spiders in the sink and it rained so the work surface is all wet [15:17PM] eren: [1 Image Attached] not happy rn [15:23PM] ymir: i dont even live with you why are you asking the gc this [15:24PM] eren: levi has the flat gc muted and idk how else to yell at him [15:28PM] y/n: blame me,,,,i have failed u,,,,,,,im sowwy [15:29PM] eren: hehe its ok ❣️💘💕💓 i’ll clean it up 🥰 [15:32PM] jean: wtf...she doesnt even live with us [15:39PM] connie: YALL LMAOODIUGJFKDSLJ [15:39PM] connie: guess what TF just happened in my maths class [15:41PM] connie: i forgot that on one of my assignments me and y/n had drawn a camel in the library on the back and he saw and asked me 2 stay behind after class so he could have stern words with me or smthn…..anyway so i go to the front of the class at the end and he’s like “mr springer what the hell is this camel doing here” [15:42PM] connie: and i said sir thats not a camel [15:42PM] connie: thats my WIFE [15:43PM] y/n: HA HA HA… [15:45PM] jean: STOP for fucks sake [15:47PM] eren: THIS IS THE THIRD TIME YOU’VE MADE THIS REFERENCE AND I DONT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS [15:48PM] annie: i hate this gc

(06) long phone calls

[Incoming Facetime Call From: Ymir ]

“Hey.”

“Hey. Y/N, are you sitting down because I have some major tea on Thomas and Mina and I’m not supposed to be saying anything and it’s killing me.”

“Oh shit.” Audio shuffles. “I’m lying down now, bitch. Tell me everything.”

“Okay. So…”

[Five Hours Later]

“I’m still in shock about Mina and Thomas.”

“Me too. What’s Mina gonna do, lie and say she had heat rash on her titties?”

“Hopefully she doesn’t get them out for people to see.”

“Literally. God, I hate how our life has resorted to class gossip. Are we those people?”

“Yup. Two students bitching about group project partners at…like …midnight?”

“Oh, shit, it’s midnight already??”

(07) facetiming while ur both doing something else (study dates like that are on another level of intimacy)

Bertholdt’s had the same cold for about two weeks now, and nobody knows what the hell’s up with it. He walks around his flat, according to Jean, wrapped up in a blanket and surrounded by a necklace of matted tissues. To be honest, it’s not as bad as he’s making it out to be, but he’s a guy, and so anything that involves a slight stomach pain and a blocked nose instantly translates to man flu, which is almost as bad as the plague.

That being said, Bertholdt’s set himself under “house arrest” and is therefore glued to his bed or desk chair, still managing to move his sore and aching joints to write a few words on his lab report. With the first round of finals creeping up, Bertholdt actually wants to go to the library, but, man, what with his man flu and everything, he just can’t seem to do it.

On the other hand, he has you to set the mood for him. After snagging a corner table in the library near the big windows, you make a barrier out of your bag and books to watch the sunset, Mikasa opposite using minimal space with her laptop and headphones, watching a documentary she’ll need to cite for her essay. Eren naps next to you, having exhausted himself from his shift last night that ran into the early hours and Historia secretly paints her nails, blowing them dry as she takes a break from writing.

Once you’re settled and comfortable, you reluctantly peel away the slice of tape covering your webcam (because Black Mirror has forever scared you into thinking 4Chan are watching you and will hold your endless hours of Games2Girls dot com against you) and open up Facetime, ringing Bertholdt who waits patiently back home.

After a few rings, Bertholdt’s bright and tired face pops up on the screen and you both silently wave. He has his mic muted, but yours is on, allowing the ambience of the library trick him into believing he’s actually there. It’s not quite like an ordinary study date, but for now, it’ll do. He opens his textbook and starts to work, comfortable and happy now that he’s listening to his friends discuss work, like he’s there. He smiles, occasionally glancing up to see your face working or Eren unintentionally leaning into frame. It’s comforting. He works well.

(08) cooking something for ur friend

“Merry Christmas, Reiner. Oh, wait, I have something for you.”

Reiner is hosting a Christmas party this year, in the apartment he shares with some of the other people in your group. His flat is lit up with lights, draining the electricity, the tree sparkling like diamonds in the front living room that looks out onto the city. The sound of Michael Bublé sings out festively and Reiner leads you through to the kitchen, out of the loud madness of the party that’s getting into full swing. In one hand, you have a big bag of presents that both Annie and Sasha kindly left for you to haul all by yourself to Reiner’s flat, and in the other, you balance a box across your arm, the corner sharp on your inner elbow.

“Cool. Your gift is under the tree,” Reiner says.

“Oh, yeah. No, this is an early gift.”

“Just for me?” he asks.

You set down the box. “Well, you can share if you love us all a lot. But, it’s for you.”

Reiner wastes no time in opening the box, a smile widening across his face as he reviews the contents. The box is stuffed full with cookies, baked big and crumbly for his tasty pleasures. They’re decorated too, because you love him so much and you know he liked them last year.

“Last year you ate nearly all of my batch, so I just decided to make you some of your own this year,” you tell him casually. It’s really no big deal, but Reiner feels like he might actually cry because the thought is so sweet. You notice this, “Ew, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m touched!” he exclaims. Reiner turns on his spot and wraps an arm around your neck, pulling you in for a hug. With your arms wrapped around his torso, Reiner smiles with a thrilled sound and kisses the crown of your head. “Thanks, Y/N, you’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

(09) sending texts when u randomly think abt them

[11:15AM] historia: i stopped by at waterstones today and found a cards against humanity add on pack that was harry potter themed and i thought of u [11:15AM] historia: i bought it for u btw 😊

(10) listening without judging

When the door slams shut, you know that something’s wrong.

Having opted for sitting in the natural light of the common room to finish your lab report, the sound of the door echoes loudly throughout the empty common room. It’s only you in here, since Levi has volleyball practise until six this evening, and everyone else has class, work or other plans. Only one person is free at this time, which means it’s Jean who’s here and apparently, not in a very good mood.

Jean doesn’t realise you’re in the room until he enters it, stopping suddenly in the doorway when he sees you cross-legged on the carpet near the coffee table. His eyes are red and swollen, his nose shiny from where he’s been crying and sniffling. The sight makes your stomach churn with an indescribable feeling, and you immediately rise to your feet. There's a bag over his shoulder, as though he was on his way to the gym that's through another door in this room, but that can wait.

“Jean? What’s wrong- did something happen?” you ask him, not stepping forward until you know he’s okay.

Jean's sensitive and sometimes you forget to go easy on him. He sighs loudly and drops his bag to the floor with a thud. He drags his feet across the floor to get to the couch. He moves as if he’s going to sit down and then stops, turning to you. His bottom lip curls like he’s about to cry, and then he opens his arms for a hug. You immediately move forward.

“Oh, Jean,” you coo, stroking his hair and moving to sit on the sofa. Jean comes down with you and you rest his head on top of your breasts, granting him this once in a lifetime opportunity and he doesn’t even register it. He just cries, loudly and comfortably, his arms around you as he sobs. “Oh, my baby. What happened?”

Jean hiccups. “Do-Doesn’t matter. It’s dumb.”

“No, it’s not. Something hurt your feelings, and your feelings aren’t dumb,” you tell him seriously. Stroking the hair out of his face, you peer down at him. “Come on. Tell me, I won’t judge or tell anybody else. You can trust me.”

He sniffs loudly, but you don’t cringe. He blinks, tears falling and he embarrassingly wipes the tears away, nodding. “Okay.” And then the words come out like vomit.

“I just. You know how I liked Emma, right? Cause Mikasa's like my sister, and I stopped liking her a lot when we met Emma and her friends. You know that. Anyway... Well, we were talking- everyone knows we were, but still, we were talking, and I just really liked her and wanted her to like me. I did all this stuff for her, planned all these dates and got her flowers. I thought she liked flowers, girls like flowers. I know we joke that you’re one of the guys, but even you liked those flowers I got for you. So, I got her this pretty necklace with an E on it and was going to give it to her and so I went to her practise room. She does dance, you knew she does dance, right? Yeah. And so I went to the room and was in the room talking to her when the door opens and this guy comes in and he comes up to her and they kiss and I just. She. She told me she didn’t want to rush into dating and that she liked me, and then she suddenly started dating someone else and I’m just really hurt and confused. Did I do something wrong? Am I ugly? Am I annoying, I just…I don’t know what I did. I really liked her.”

You don’t say anything as he talks. You just listen intently, nodding against his head with a low hum and stroking his hair gently.

“I know it’s silly and stupid that I’m crying over a girl, it’s just…” He sighs. “It hurts.”

You sigh, too. “It’s not silly and stupid. What she did was really shitty and it’s natural that it hurt your feelings. You did absolutely nothing wrong, though. The flowers were pretty, and you didn’t force her into anything, and you were so kind and patient. Any girl would be lucky enough to have you as a boyfriend. Emma missed out! You’re so good, Jean, one of the best guys I know. And you’re not ugly! That’s an insult to actual ugly people! If you’re ugly, then what are we?” He laughs shyly and you smile, “Huh? What are we?”

“Okay, sorry,” Jean laughs, pressing his cheek into your torso with a wide smile. His hands loop together behind your back, meek and timid, and he sighs, this time less sadly. “Maybe I’m destined to be alone forever…”

“You’re being dramatic, now,” you sigh. “The right person is waiting for you. Just give it some time.”

Jean thinks about that for a moment. “Wanna date me if I end up alone and single aged thirty?”

Loudly, you let out a laugh. “Yeah right. You know what, fine. Even though I know you won’t be, if we’re both single by thirty, I’ll marry you. How about that?”

Jean hums. “Cool. Is it safe to have kids after thirty?”

You let out a wheeze, taken aback by Jean’s question. “Woah there. I said I’d marry you, not birth your children! Besides, you’re acting like thirty is ancient! Lots of women have kids aged thirty.”

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t know! My Mom was only young.”

“I can’t believe you just asked me to have kids with you when we’re thirty…”

“Might as well make our marriage interesting,” Jean shrugs.

(11) making someone laugh so hard that their whole body shakes

“Ow- stop! I’m going to pee!”

You don’t think you’ve seen Eren laugh at a joke that’s not his own in quite some time. Tonight, across the table in the retro diner that’s been converted and opened in town, he has surprised you. The entire booth shakes with laughter, from all sides and directions. Eren leans up against the window, clutching his side with Mikasa, Armin and Sasha all stuffed next to him on the skinny one seater. Next to you, on either side, is Connie and Jean, with Marco and Bertholdt at the counter ordering more drinks.

“What?” you ask, laughing. You’re not laughing because it’s funny, but more so because you have no idea what it is you did to make him laugh so hard. “What did I say?”

Eren can hardly get his words out, choking halfway on air and having to reach for his drink which shakes in his hand. He sips and gasps for air: “Just-your…face!” Then he cracks up again, like it’s the literal joke of the century. You just don’t get it.

“What did I do?” you ask. “What’s so funny?”

Eren can’t breathe.

“Oh my God,” Mikasa comments, smiling with disbelief and covering her mouth as she laughs. Sasha’s french fries are stone cold as she laughs and leans into Armin’s side for support.

“Fuck. Y/N, you’re so funny, I love you so much,” Eren cries. Cries, literally; there are tears pooling out of his eyes, and he wipes them, sighing loudly as he laughs a few more times.

You’re going to take the compliment happily, and move on. To this day, you never found out what was so funny…

(12) hanging out in furniture stores and testing every couch there is

“Take a picture of me so we can pretend this is our house for Instagram.”

You sigh, taking out your phone and snapping a photo of Connie, lounging his legs apart across a lime green sofa that looks like it’s been hauled out of a 70’s magazine. One of the best things about Connie is that he’s easy to please, and adventurous just like you. Connie could be taken to a junkyard for a first date and somehow he’d still find it fun. He didn’t watch Bottletop Bill and his best friend Corky and leave not taking some inspiration on what to do with scrap junk.

It slowly became a tradition to go to the weirdest places with Connie as your date. On weekends or free weekdays you shared, you’d text Connie and get him to come with you to somewhere new. On today’s list, IKEA. It’s not totally crazy, or weird or wacky, just something you don’t think you’d do with Levi for fun. Connie loved the idea.

Connie’s making it a mission to sit on every bit of furniture he can find. As he takes a ride up the elevator to the first and main starting point of IKEA, he immediately notices the display couches and stares at you excitedly: “Let’s pretend we’re about to buy our dream house and test all the couches.”

Your eyes light up. “Yes! We can pretend we’re on a TV show reviewing them.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Connie more excited. “Oh my God, yes!” Then he grabs your hand, tugging you towards a cream themed living display. “Let’s go, wifey! Time to review.”

(You very nearly leave IKEA with a bright red sofa that looks like it’s been handmade and the bottom pillows are patterned with tiny cherries. Sadly, you’re both broke and you don’t have a car to take it home.)

((Connie’s devastated.))

(13) holding hands while jaywalking so that u Both get hit by a car

“Now!”

A squeal leaves your mouth as Eren grabs a hold of your hand and literally pulls you across the road. A car that speeds down the road presses the horn loud enough to turn a few heads and Eren grins boyishly, raising his hand as if to say sorry even though you’re far enough away to not get hit. Erens motto for jaywalking is We Hold Hands, Because We Go Together Or We Don’t Go Down At All, or something. You know he stole half of it from an All Time Low song, but it works, and the song slaps.

From across the road, on the side you and Eren are running towards, Annie scowls at the both of you .

“You two have a death wish!” she complains.

“But we lived!” Eren replies, raising a gang sign to which Annie pulls a face at.

“I literally cannot stand you,” Annie seethes, walking away even though she’s supposed to be going out for dinner with the both of you. You and Eren share a look that ends in a burst of laughter and run after Annie, capturing each of her arms with your own. She complains all the way to the restaurant, even though she loves it.

(14) randomly buying a flower for someone

“Delivery.”

Reiner’s voice lifts your head. He stands behind the reception desk of your flat complex with a small bunch of flowers in his left hand. If he didn’t already know that you were working your two hour shift today, then he’s lucky he caught you. The sight of a bouquet of wildflowers makes your heart soar curiously.

“For someone special?” you wonder. Maybe he’s delivering to someone in the complex. Reiner’s a softie like that.

Reiner blinks. “Yeah. You.” He holds the bouquet outwards, with a bright smile. “They were for sale outside as I got off my bus. Thought of you. Happy early birthday.”

“My birthday’s in, like, seven months,” you say.

“That’s why it’s for your early birthday,” Reiner replies.

You don’t know what to say. “They’re so pretty, thank you. Hey - can you go up to my flat and put them in a vase? I’ve still got an hour here, they might dry out if they’re kept down here.”

Reiner nods instantly. “Sure. Gimme your key?” You slide the key across the desk towards Reiner and he takes it swiftly. “Cool. Glad you like them. Enjoy your shift, Y/N.”

“Unlikely,” you groan. “Thanks, Reiner!”

He smiles as he reaches the door, sticking his tongue out to you as he prepares to climb the stairs. That elevator needs fixing urgently, and all you can think about is how much you love your friends.

(15) letting ur friends taste ur food and also tasting theirs to the point where u basically ate a fair amount off of each plate on the table

“What do you mean you’ve never tried a rare steak before?” Ymir sighs so loudly that it turns a few heads. “Okay. Take a bite, it’s called charity and I’m generous. Come on.”

Ymir even cuts you a slice and leans over the table to let you taste it. Beside you, Jean cringes when you close your teeth around the fork and pull the steak off, taking several bites and widening your eyes with wonder a Ymir. You have just unlocked a taste sensation!

“Like it?” Ymir asks.

“Mhm! It’s so easy to eat,” you observe. You look at Jean, “try his.”

Ymir sighs. She willingly shares her food out. You glance down at your own meal, a pretty pasta dish that Sasha looks at from next to Ymir.

“What is that? It looks good,” Sasha asks.

“Spaghetti Al Pomodoro,” you quote from the menu. Connie laughs, because who goes to a restaurant and orders spaghetti? “Stop, I don’t know the menu, I played it safe!”

“Lemme try,” Sasha invites herself to try the taste, twirling her fork around the pasta and sucking it up like a scene in Lady and the Tramp. This sets off a sequence around the table, something you can’t help but snigger at. Mikasa lets you try some of her curry and Ymir tries Jean’s burger. By the time everybody on the table has tried everybody else's meals, you finally look back at your plate and notice that literally half of the meal’s now gone. Ymir has about one bite of steak left, and Jean could easily finish his burger in one bite.

“I hope everyone enjoyed my meal,” Ymir says sarcastically, and she angrily chews her last piece of steak.

Connie looks up with a bright smile. “Yeah I did. Thanks!”

(16) “give me that I’ll carry it for u”

Sometimes, Mikasa stops by at the reception to help out, especially during finals or midterms when you could really use those two hours of monitoring an empty email inbox to study. Today, one of the newer residents, Floch, is on the desk and is playing Club Penguin on the computer, and you’re shoved into the back storage room with Mikasa, filing everybody’s mail and parcels.

It’s so messy in here, and looks like it hasn’t had a good clean out since it was first built, which might sound ridiculous, but have you seen all of this dust?

“Can you guys take out the trash?” One of the other workers, Rico, pokes her head into the back room.

“You only just asked us to do this, though,” Mikasa points out.

Rico shrugs, “Okay. And? Get to work.”

She turns and leaves as Mikasa gives her the middle finger, groaning as she arches her back to relieve pain that’s developed from being hunched over for too long. The trash bags are enormous and bulky with weight, shoved into a single room that absolutely honks. Mikasa grimaces as she opens the door and drags some bags out, deliberately ignoring a suspicious juice leaving a trail behind one of the ones she’s just brought into the back room.

“That literally stinks,” you complain.

“Yep.”

While Mikasa continues to haul bags out of the trash room, you take it upon yourself to drag the bags out to the back, towards the giant tip that’s collected by the bin-men the following day. After two or three trips, Mikasa steps out of the room and notices you struggling to pick a big bag up off the floor over your shoulder, like Santa’s sack.

“Give me that, I’ll carry it for you,” Mikasa offers, already stepping forward.

“No!” you protest stubbornly. “I’ve got this.”

“You’re so full of bullshit,” Mikasa howls. She ignores you and snatches the bag out of your hands. You’ll never admit it, but it feels good to not have the twisty material burning your fingers. “Sit down. You’ve worked hard.”

“Don’t patronise me,” you scold.

She giggles, “sorry. Keep filling in those forms, kill two birds with one stone?”

You wait until Mikasa’s out of the room to cradle your fingers. Fucking hell, that hurts.

(17) helping ur friend decide what to wear while also reminding them that they look amazing no matter what

“You’re not going to the Met Gala, Jean. Just wear jeans, my dude.”

“No. No, no, ignore him.” You throw a glare in Eren’s direction and shift on your stomach, watching Jean frantically search through his wardrobe. “This is important. This is serious. He’s going to see a potential employer, Eren”

“Yeah,” Jean taunts, “so go be jobless and broke somewhere else.”

Eren snorts, “I have a job, though…”

“Okay, get out of my room. Y/N, help me.”

“You looked good in the last four outfits,” you say to him honestly. “What’s wrong with this one, hm?”

You stand up, moving to one of the outfits laid out on the floor. It’s a pretty combination of clothes; a patterned white shirt that’s both formal and casual, with black trousers and brown shoes.

“I don’t like the shoes,” Jean mumbles, continuing to search.

“Okay…Why don’t we just…” You crouch, moving a pair of black shoes from outfit number three to outfit number two. Now the shoes are black, and the outfit looks great. “Do that? What do you think?”

Jean looks down at it, biting his bottom lip. “Is it good?”

“Yeah, totally,” you nod with enthusiasm. “It shows your personality whilst also remaining professional. And you looked super handsome in it.” Jean faces you with a shy face, “Trust me. It’s the one.”

It takes some reluctance and convincing, but Jean eventually settles on outfit number two. All it took was some convincing and abuse of his praise kink.

(And he got the job.)

(18) being involved in every bad hair decision (dyeing ur friend’s hair grey in between playing with their switch)

Three games into Mario Kart, you realise that you urgently need to email Nintendo and play I’m-Karen-Let-Me-See-The-Manager. Nintendo Switches are so dangerously addictive that Sasha has you watching her play as grey hair dye bleaches her scalp. You can’t help but watch as she wins race after race, a streak of ten to beat tonight with King Boo as her racer every damn time. You blame Connie for this impulsive hair decision, but at least his was done professionally. Across the room, Historia watches apprehensively, her lit review on her lap as she studies.

“Fuck, your hair!” You must have said that so many times that Sasha’s bound to get sick of it. She glances up at his reflection and eyes the sight on her head.

“Looks fine,” she shrugs.

“Let me remind you that it looks fine because the colour’s okay at the front. It looks kinda…patchy at the back.” You reach for the dye, “We’re low. Sasha, we’re in trouble.”

She shrugs again. “Whatever. We can make a new trend.”

“Hell no. If it looks shit, I’m paying for you to get it done professionally …which, you should have just done in the first place. I’m not a hairdresser!”

“And thank fuck for that!” Connie steps into the living room and laughs nervously. “That looks hideous!”

This time, Sashia’s eyes raise nervously.

“It’s not that bad…” you mutter. “It’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

“The only way to save your hair is to just sacrifice it all,” Jean sighs, following behind Connie with a frown. “You know what, I’ve got a razor in my cupboard downstairs, let’s bring forward bald Sasha.”

“I’ll take the patchy scalp,” Sasha threatens.

“It’s really not that bad,” you pout quietly, attempting to fix the mess at the back of her head.

Okay - you’re lying. It’s awful. It’s a total disaster. But when Sasha gets a good look at it, and she does take a good long look, she just shrugs and puts down the mirror.

“It’s a trend,” she decides. Mario Kart resumes and you’re rendered absolutely speechless.

(19) looking stupid in public together (singing loudly in ur car)

“JUST GO AHEAD AND HATE ON ME AND RUN YOUR MOUTH!”

“So everyone can hear!”

“HIT ME WITH THE WORST YOU GOT AND KNOCK ME DOWN!”

“Oh, baby, I don’t care.”

“KEEP IT UP AND SOON ENOUGH, YOU’LL FIGURE OUT!”

Both of your voices: “You wanna be, you wanna be, A LOSER LIKE ME!”

In the backseat, Annie shrinks further down until her bum is hanging off the chair, in the footwell where her knees are. “Please kill me.”

(20) hugging people when u say hi and goodbye to them

Historia is one of the best friends you could ever ask for. One, she’s friendly. Two, she’s funny. Three, she’s cute. Four, she hugs you when you arrive somewhere and again when you leave, and you absolutely love it.

“Y/N, hi!” Her voice is the first to call out to you when you walk into the Open Day fair at your Uni. You look awful, overslept and still half asleep, but she comes towards you with a smile and engulfs you in a hug. “You look cute. Sleep well?”

That’s not to say the other guys don’t hug you, because they definitely do. But, Historia’s always the first.

(21) being there for someone even if u can’t help them

“Go ahead. Laugh at me like everybody else.”

Mikasa and Sasha are the ones who are unfortunately tasked with dealing with a tragically grieving Y/N. It’s unfortunate to you, but they don’t mind one bit. The last thing they expected to see when they came back to Sasha’s apartment to watch more episodes of Mindhunter on Sasha’s TV, was you curled up on the window seat with red eyes and a runny nose.

“Why would we laugh at you, baby?” Sasha asks, rubbing your back. She’s sat next to you and Mikasa is by your feet, rubbing them and your legs with her soft hands.

You sniff uglily, but none of them say anything. “Cause. Cause it’s just a fish, I guess.”

“It was still your pet,” Mikasa points out sadly. “Susan was a great fish.”

You sniff again, crying some more. “I just feel like a bad owner. Maybe the bowl wasn’t big enough, and maybe I didn’t feed her enough…I don’t want her to have died because of me.”

“Hey, now,” Sasha assures softly, “I’m sure she died peacefully. You were the best fish Mom ever. Susan’s in a better place now.” She glances over at Mikasa nervously, “Like, fish heaven?”

For a moment you don’t say anything, and Sasha thinks maybe that was too much. But then you turn to her with a hopeful expression. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Mikasa adds.

“Mikasa’s still with you in your heart,” Sasha says. She’s not too great at the comforting thing. “You were so good to her. If I was a fish, I’d want you to be my Mom.”

Mikasa looks at Sasha with a deadpan face. Maybe that was too much, but you smiled, and that’s something to her. Even if she doesn’t know what to do to help, the least she can do is be there for you.

(22) “this reminded me of u”

[03:15AM] sasha: hehe [03:15AM] sasha: this reminded me of u ^__^ [03:16AM] sasha: [1 Image Attached]

[03:20AM] y/n: what the...

(23) allowing people to be human, with everything that this entails

University truly has been the best years of your life. There’ve been rough spots financially and mentally, but your key support system has been the circle of friends you’re proud to love and live with. Even when they’re a little bit chaotic, sometimes really annoying and loud and tiring, you still love them, and every quality that comes along with loving them.

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whumps-and-bumps · 3 months

Text

Xenophobia: The Lure

[CW: branding, misgendering, abusive father, depression vibes] [Notes: This story is set in a fantasy world with many non-human characters, although Xen themself is human as they come. This is mostly a flashback, to the happiest they will be for a very, very long time. Don't worry, it gets worse!] [Masterpost/Contents]

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･. :･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Fire.

It felt like fire.

The searing pain spread across their neck and down their back as the brand was burned into their flesh, marking them as the property of another. It overwhelmed their senses, blinding and deafening them whilst their blood rushed in their ears and their heart thudded in their chest. They thought they might be crying out in cocktail of fear and pain. They couldn’t tell anymore.

They couldn’t remember much from that night. Or rather, they couldn’t remember much after it had started to go wrong. Everything before that was crystal clear; burned into their memories, much like the crest on their skin. They remembered the butterflies in their stomach, the hope in their chest, and the skip in their step. They remembered how excited they had been.

All of that was gone now.

The only thing left was the fire.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

[Hey! You look really cute in your first pic. I've never met a pink mothfolk before :) ]

Xen sighed heavily as they threw their phone down beside them on their bed, laid back, and covered their eyes with their arm. Online dating was hard. Sometimes they weren’t even sure why they bothered – it wasn’t like they’d gotten any matches in the three weeks they’d been trying, other than from bots or catfish. Frankly, even if they couldn’t find a date, a friend or two would have been nice. Someone to spend time with that actually enjoyed the time spent with them.

“Oi! Get down here, young lady!”

Xen groaned and rolled over, hiding their face in their pillow as their father shouted up at them from the kitchen. They racked their brain, trying to figure out what small mistake they were going to be lit up about, but nothing came to mind. They cringed as they heard heavy footsteps make their way up the stairs, and flinched when their bedroom door was flung open hard enough to bounce against the wall. The door handle chipped away more paint from an ever-growing dent behind it.

Something was thrown at them – it slapped wetly against their shoulder before falling harmlessly to the side, leaving a damp spot where it had landed. From the smell of it, it was probably the dishcloth that had been left in the sink.

“Finish the fucking dishes. I’m out of pint glasses, again,” their father slurred out. He kicked their bed when they didn’t respond fast enough. “What am I supposed to do, drink from the bottle? Like a fuckin’ slob? Answer me!”

“Sorry, dad,” Xen mumbled in return. Their father grunted.

“There’s no fucking respect around here. Lazy bitch,” he grumbled as he left again, leaving the door wide open for them to hear the smash of glass as something was thrown against a wall downstairs.

Once they were sure he had left, Xen sighed again, their ribs heaving with the weight of the world upon them. Once upon a time, this would have been enough to make them cry. Now, it was their regular Tuesday night. They hauled themselves upright, peeling the soggy dishcloth from their bedspread and instead tossing it onto a dirty plate they had left on their desk before they swung their legs out of bed. They sat there for what felt like forever, trying to will their body to move, before they were snapped out of it by their phone beeping at them. The ringtone was one they hadn’t ever heard before.

They squinted at the screen suspiciously as they opened up the notification, assuming it to be a reminder that some long-forgotten game was still installed and demanding attention again, but to their surprise it was the dating app.

[You have a match! Tap to see who liked you back!]

They read the notification again, just to double (triple) check they were understanding it correctly, and before they could move their phone beeped again.

[Someone has messaged you! Tap here to find out what they said!]

A slow smile spread across Xen’s face, their heart beginning to beat that little bit faster. With shaking hands, they reopened the app, and replied back to that cute pink mothgirl before their nerves could get the better of them.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

[Hey, do you wanna finally meet up irl? I’ve got the perfect idea for a first date ;) ]

Xen audibly gasped as they read the latest message from the mothfolk, their heart skipping a beat or two. They had been texting Salia for a couple of weeks now, and every day she messaged back the sun seemed to shine a little brighter down on them. It was all they could do not to dash straight for their phone every time it buzzed. So far, they had managed to keep everything a secret, but they weren’t sure how long they could keep that up anymore – especially if they were going to meet in person for the first time. Nice things just didn’t seem to last long around their father.

They leaned against the counter in the kitchen as their thumbs hovered over the virtual keyboard. They wanted to reply quickly before their father stumbled in, but their mind was drawing a blank. How to sound interested but not obsessed, excited but not too eager?

[That sounds lovely-]

Backspace.

[Ooh what is it? I’d love to!]

Backspace.

[Are you sure? I’m really nothing special.]

Xen flinched as there was a thud and sudden yell from the living room, and hurriedly locked their phone as they shoved it in their hoodie pocket. They froze for a few long seconds, waiting for him to come storming their way, but the house remained motionless. They tiptoed towards the door to the kitchen and peaked their head round, wondering what he was doing, but their father was just sat in his armchair watching TV with a scowl on his face and bottle in his hand, as always. His favourite team must have been losing, or something. The reason rarely mattered as much as the aftermath.

They went back to the counter and let out a breath they didn’t realise they had been holding. The microwave still had another three minutes to go before their dinner would be ready, so they took out their phone again and unlocked it. To their surprise and abject horror, there was a new message waiting for them.

[Aww, don’t say that! I’d love to see you in person. You’re a sweetheart and I want to hold your hand 😊]

Xen’s heart dropped out of their chest and through the floor when they realised that they’d accidentally sent their last message. Their cheeks lit up a deep red and they closed their eyes, as if that would undo what they had done. The noise of their father now cheering uproariously in the next room sounded a million miles away. They didn’t even need him to ruin things, they did a perfectly good job on their own-

[Xen? I mean it. If you want to wait a little while longer though that’s okay too! We can do this at your pace.]

They let out a soft little noise. She was being so kind to them, giving them this second chance. With a shaky intake of breath, they finally started to type out a real reply.

[I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to send that! I would love to see you, I was hoping you’d ask <3 ]

They sent the text before they could overthink it. They waited for the rejection, the ‘actually, um, no’ and ‘I've changed my mind’ to come back through as those three little dots taunted them like that the crow greeting Prometheus every morning. Their liver being plucked right out of their belly would probably hurt them less right now, though.

When she replied, their heart stopped. Again.

[Great! Thank god, I was worried I was moving us too quick 😊 How does this Saturday night work for you?]

The noise of their father arguing with the television seemed to fade further into the background, their peripherals turning to shadow until all they could see was the message. They stared at their phone in disbelief. They were shaken out of their stupor by the microwave starting to yell too.

“Hey, turn that racket off, I’m watching the game!”

“Sorry, dad!” they yelled back, setting their phone down and scrambling to open it before the beeps could annoy him further. They sucked their teeth as the heated plastic of the readymeal burned their fingertips, and they nearly flung it across the room instead of carrying it over to the counter where their bowl laid waiting. They dropped it onto the laminate with a thud and shoved their hand under the cold tap for a few moments, giving them time to process.

She still wanted to see them.

On a date.

Well, that was mildly alarming. They didn’t think they’d get this far. What would they wear? What would they do? Salia had said she had a great idea for the date, but what on earth could that possibly be? Xen buzzed with excitement, despite the slightly light-headed feeling that was creeping over them, and picked their phone back up in order to stare at it for a while.

Saturday night was absolutely fine. It wasn’t like they ever had anything else on.

[That’s perfect. What will we be doing?]

They replied, still trying to keep their cool, then they started second guessing themself – what was it people always said to do, change something arbitrary about date plans in order to see how controlling the other person was? They didn’t think Salia was that type of person, but then again, it was probably still a little too early to tell. They frowned a little to themself.

Everything was going to be just fine. It was only a date, after all. What could go wrong?

[Would you mind if I kept it a surprise? ;) ] [I’ll meet you in the park at 6pm – you know, by the bandstand?]

Now was their chance to change something random. Make it 6:30, meet them by the old oak or something instead – but Xen couldn’t ignore the paranoia that if they were fussy about a minute detail like that, the date would be off. And they really, really wanted this.

[Cool, sounds good. Will I need to be wearing anything special?]

Salia immediately started typing and Xen groaned inwardly. That had sounded flirtatious when it wasn’t meant to be.

[I mean, I’m just wondering if this is more of an outside situation or an inside!]

They quickly sent another message, just to clear that up, but it hadn’t been necessary.

[Wear something loose and comfortable. Maybe even something cute underneath, if you’re down for it ;) ]

Xen felt a blush rise in their cheeks again, their microwave meal quickly forgotten on the side.

Honestly, they couldn’t believe their luck with any of this. They were half-tempted to send her a message asking where she had been all their life, but they had to keep it casual. They didn’t want to come on too strong, be too much. Be too loud. Take up too much space. Exist too freely.

Their father’s disparaging words echoed around their skull, drilled into them over the years. Their mother’s death had been tough on all of them - but that shouldn't have been an excuse for him to start acting the way he did. It was hard not to already hold Salia up on a pedestal when literally anyone else would treat them better than he did. She was the first glimmer of hope that Xen had had in years that their life could be more than this, and they clung to that with everything they had.

[next]

#fantasy whump #whump writing #first chapter #whumpblr #whump community #catfishing #noncon body mod mention #abusive father #aaaaaa I hope yall like this! it's gonna get a lot worse for Xen I prommy <3 #they think their dad is the worst thing in their life? THINK AGAIN

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kishusachan · 30 days

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THE FIRST DATE <3

And probably the last time I felt this anxious was back during examinations, she gasped to herself on her way in the auto. Wearing a yellow, orange, and red Kalamkari suit and a small black bindi on her forehead. How will it be? , Will I even be able to speak anything or it all be just awkward silence, she had hundreds of thoughts running through her mind, and why wouldn't that happen, Afterall this was the first time she'd see him this closely after knowing him as a person. Ironical enough how they used to sit in the same French class for years and passed beside each other several times, but it was always 'him' who noticed, she lived in her own fairytale or nightmarish world. Just funny enough how both of them had been living two completely different and opposite lives for years and never knew one day both would be this important to each other. It was just him who admired her from afar since 8th grade.

Rushing sounds... oh she realized she reached the destination. There was a rush at the metro station, which is nothing new for an average city person traveling through the metro 5 days a week. She went ahead and realized she had a voice note to be heard from him. waiting for the metro she pulls out her earphones or what you say the tunnel for escape through reality, red pretty matching her warm-toned outfit, puts them onto her ears and 10 seconds later she just smiles continuously. No wonder Metro arrived in a moment, she listened to the audio again and again... and smiled through her 2 hair strands again and again.

Soon she reached the place, for a while she had to attend a class, only to get to know the class had been shifted to a different slot and now all she had was to wait until he arrived. Listening to songs, created some scenarios, took origami papers in her hand, and started making origami chairs, smiling throughout.

PING.... oh a notif, "is he here?"

'I'VE ARRIVED', it said. She rushed through packed her materials, and left the place. Only to reach the station and get another text saying, 'Sorry, I reached one station ahead', he would've been too excited and nervous at the same time either.

She stood there under the plain ceiling of the metro station, mid of the stairs, clueless about where he'd come from. All she knew was he was wearing a blue shirt with lines running perpendicularly through it. Being shy enough to make the first eye contact, she stood there looking at the ground and then staring into her phone's screen. Texted him "I'm standing in the middle of the stairs, you come and approach me". And the next moment she got a glance at him, he appeared from the right side of the stairs, she took a look at him and avoiding the awkward first Hello, started telling him random things.

They went further from the stairs to the left side and he said 'HELLO'. Ughh.. his voice, she could listen to him for hours. Furthermore avoiding the awkward convos they both started talking about random things and laughed together.

Sat at the metro station, and he made a video call to his friends... which probably turned out to be worse than expected for someone.

They took the metro, stood by the gate, trying their best to be comfortable, and reached the station.

Coming out, through the escalators. Soon they realized they made a blunder... (if ykyk)

Coming out from the very first too-awkward public encounter, they went ahead and he asked 'So where's the way to decided destination?'. She was confident enough that she knew the way only to later follow him like a kid. The way she knew wasn't the shortest and best path. She immediately opened her Google map but he already knew the way without a map. "Ughh... you haven't even lived in this city anymore for 2 years and yet you know the correct way and then here I am heh".

All the way she noticed how he always managed to get her walk on the inner side of the road, away from vehicles and rush. Reaching at the mall through the security check she forgot to pick up her bag and he just patiently took her bag in his hands and waited for her. "Oh... this is the first time someone apart from my family is this patient with me in real life", she whispers to herself.

Strolling through the mall, talking about random things, how time started to pass even they didn't understand.

They went inside a store, and little they didn't know it would turn out this awkward and weird. Her anxiety popped out, the same person who told her not to care about what anyone thought, now couldn't stop perceiving people from judging her (probably they weren't). She realized how coolly he handled the situation and made her feel calm.

And just a few moments later, his phone rang. It was none other than his elder sister [the audio note held the info. how he informed his elder sister about their later meetup today]. He picked up the call and got to know she wanted their pic together. They clicked their picture in one frame with shyness and sent it, and just walked more, and soon they were on the fourth floor, he exclaimed and asked "Oh! But we didn't go to the bookstore, where was it?". She replied, "It was back there on the third floor, we passed by it". He took her back to the third floor and then found the bookstore and asked her to go inside with him, ironically enough he found no interest in books yet was eager to learn about them for her. They looked after books for a while and then she came out. He said, "Let's go to the food court!", and she replied "No... let's just sit somewhere and talk peacefully." Soon they came down to the ground floor, tried finding an empty bench, and sat down their spent a good time talking and exchanging their laughs and took an exit from that four-floor tall and area covering space.

Going back to the public market, he asked her "What do you wish to eat?", only to hear her back "Nothing". After enough insisting, she said with a questioning soft tone "Let's eat softie?". There was MacD in front of them, he went there and bought two vanilla softies while she waited outside under the shade. He brought 2 cones in his different hands and handed one to her, and as he was going to start to eat his one, she said "OH, wait.. let's take a picture". Walking down the lane, tasting the white vanilla cream above the cone they continued to talk, they ate, they walked and all the way, she spoke as if she hadn't spoken for years. It felt as if she just didn't want to let him go out of sight. They sat down on the stairs and talked about totally random things.

Suddenly, she remembered that she had to buy some art stuff, and asked him to go to the store with her. Crossing the buildings, she put her hand in the pocket of her traditional Kalamkari long suit's bottom. She held in her hand, a black beaded bracelet. Unsure about how to hand it to him, she built up her confidence and pulled it out, "See here's the bracelet I purchased in August 2023, and I made up my mind to keep this bracelet with me until I find the one". He calmly pulled his hand ahead, as if he thought she'd hand it to him and then he could wear it himself. But she had different plans, and she said "Ughh, is this how we take bracelets?". He got nervous and asked her "Uh.. so? How? Is there anything I did wrong?". She laughed off and said, "No, just tell me in which hand of yours should I make you wear it?". And sudden realization hit him, 'Oh she wishes to make me wear it by her'.

PING.... his phone rang again, they walked down the road while he talked on the call. They reached to the shop, but he didn't stop as he was unconscious to see where they were being on the call, she pulled him by the sleeve of his shirt and gave him the sign 'Oh we're here sir' and said to him "just wait I'll be right back". For a moment she vanished into the shop and then there she was, again back in front of his sight. They walked a bit and she stopped him on the way and said show me your hand, and made him wear the bracelet by herself, on his right hand, just a little below the mole he had.

He told her that he had to buy something on the other side of the road, so there they went crossing the road. And all the time she had in her mind 'I wish I could hold his hand' unknowing of what went in his mind. He tried his whole to keep her just behind him, and she noticed a gesture of his hand, which felt as if he wished to make her cross the road while holding her hand, but skeptical of knowing what both thought. MOON TELL ME IF I COULD SEND UP MY HEART TO YOU... Her phone rang, it was her mom telling her to do some of her bank words while coming back. She almost felt like placing her head on his chest, as if she needed to relax, but respecting the boundaries, she stepped back. Afterward, they passed through the market, through weird comments made by sellers to attract customers.

Crossing the road again, as the bank was on the other side of the road, they went to find the bank, and even after being introverted he asked a guard about the location of the bank. "Thank god the bank is closed," she said, just wanting to avoid any human interactions. And he asked her again "What do you want to eat? Should we go to Domino’s?", resisting everything she REPLIED, "No, I'm full". As he insisted a bit more, she agreed to go and drink orange juice, ah her favorite of all time. Later he told his elder sister how she wasn't eating anything and just a moment later she video-called them. They talked for a while and then it was already 2:30 pm, time for her to go. She told him "Now I guess I should leave", he agreed and followed her giving her the chocolate he had brought. The moment she saw the chocolate, she told how it was too big for her to eat alone, or even to accept as a gift. They went ahead, and before entering the station's stairs she clicked a pic of them together. 'He should've left till now, why isn't he going?' she thought to herself as he followed her. And she realized he was probably dropping her half the way to auto. Perhaps, now it was the moment for him to go back and he said "I'll leave now", and without any lag of time she pulled out her right hand for a handshake, his hand, he froze for a bit and then did a firm handshake which lasted for not more than seconds. She wished to hold his hand for longer than that duration but they just exchanged shy smiles and turned around back to their ways. A few seconds later she looked back and he was nowhere to be seen. She smiled through her hair and went further alone.

[A lot happened, a lot couldn't happen, but I do not regret even a single second I spent with you. There was a lot more I wanted to say to you. Those 3 hours flew like minutes and now I spent another 3 hours writing about them and this way I can remember our first three hours together for eternity or longer.]

with love -Kishu <3

#first date #love

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courageous-she · 3 years

Text

Needing You- Charlie Gillespie

Charlie x female reader

Summary: You’re having a rough day and go to your best friend for some comfort

Word Count: 3037

Author’s Note: I haven’t really written in a while but became a SIMP for this boy after watching JATP. Here’s something I thought up while I should have been working at work. Also the formatting may have gotten a little wonky so sorry for that. Um anyway, hope you enjoy!

You: Hey, are you home? Charlie: Yeah, why, what’s up? You: Can we hang out? I don’t really want to be alone rn Charlie: Sure thing! I can come over? You: Actually, can I come over? I don’t feel like being in my apartment rn Charlie: Of course, doors unlocked <3

You locked your phone, resting it on your chest and letting out a long sigh. Life had just been hitting too hard lately, so you texted Charlie hoping he’d be able to distract you and take your mind off of things. You simply needed some quality time with your best friend and to not think about everything going on in your life right now. Luckily, Charlie was always down to hang out and was always flexible on what the two of you would do.

You lifted your head just enough from your starfish position on your bed to glance over your outfit. You’d changed into your comfy clothes when you got home a few hours ago. These would be fine, Charlie has seen you in worse clothes, and probably in an overall worse state than this. Shrugging, you stood from your bed and grabbed your keys, making your way over to the bus stop at the end of your street.

Quietly opening the door to Charlie and Owen’s apartment, you carefully left your shoes at the door. You looked up and noticed Owen and Jeremy sitting on the couch in the small apartment living room. “Hey, Y/N” Owen and Jeremy said at the same time, both giving a quick nod of the head. You waved back, making your way down the hallway to Charlie’s room. It wasn’t odd for you to come over to the boy’s apartment, so Owen and Jeremy didn’t question it. Owen was more used to your frequent visits than Jeremy because Owen actually lived there, but both boys knew how close you and Charlie are so it would be odd if you didn’t show up at some point during the week.

Charlie’s door was open a crack, a low light creeping out into the hallway. You pushed the door open just enough to slide your body through, and closed it when you were all the way inside.

“Hey” Charlie said softly, sitting up slightly in his bed and closing his laptop. Instead of responding, you pulled the covers back on his bed and slid under. Charlie watched you, slightly confused, but lifted his arm for you when you began to crawl under it resting your head on his chest. His arm around you hugged you closer, while his other hand came around to rest on top of yours that was resting on his stomach.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” he asked, voice soft. You shook your head ‘no’ on his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” Again, you shook your head. Charlie’s chest rose up before he let out a long sigh. It wasn’t often you got like this, but when you did it always broke Charlie a little inside. “What can I do to help?” “Is it okay if we just lay here for a while?” you finally said.

“Yeah, ‘course it is. Want me to put on a movie for background noise or somethin’?” Charlie asked, leaning over slightly to grab his tv remote. You simply nodded a ‘yes’ against his chest, knowing he would just choose a movie for the two of you.

Charlie ended up choosing “Onward”, a Disney movie was bound to put a smile on your face, he thought. The two of you silently watched the movie, staying in relatively the same position. As the movie was coming to a close, tears began to make their way down your face, landing on Charlie’s shirt. He looked down when he began to feel the wet spot on his chest. Moving so he could see your face better, Charlie smirked at your current state.

“Are you crying?” Charlie asked, the goofy smirk not leaving his face. You lifted your head from his chest, glancing between his smirking expression and the puddle on his chest.

“What? He never got to meet his dad! After all that!!” you said, pouting out your bottom lip so you didn’t start sobbing. Charlie chuckled before sitting back and pulling you back into him.

“Haven’t you seen this before? You knew this was coming” he replied while turning his attention back to the screen.

“Just because I’ve seen it already doesn’t make it any less sad, Char.” But he could tell by the tone in your voice that you weren’t talking about the movie anymore. He grabbed the remote, stopping the end credits. You started to sit up, wiping the remnants of tears from your face.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” he asked, voice soft and understanding. You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on your knees facing your friend sitting next to you.

“Everything is just so overwhelming right now. It’s like nothing can go my way and just keeps piling on top of me. I feel like I’m drowning and I’m so over it.” There was a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment “I hate feeling like this” you whispered. Charlie put his hand on your back, rubbing small circles.

“Hey, hey, look at me” he said. Your eyes remained fixed on a random spot of his bed. ��Y/N, please” he whispered. You shifted your gaze so that your eyes met his. “I know that things might be really tough right now, but I know you, and I know how hard you work, and I know that you will get through this. You have the weekend to forget about things and relax for a bit too, I’m here to get your mind off of the stress.”

You smiled at his reassuring words; he always knew what to say. You moved so that you could rest your head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Char, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know, probably die or something” he said casually. You punched his shoulder jokingly and laughing at the boy next to you. “You hungry? We can order some food”

“I didn’t bring my wallet with me” you said, remembering that you’d only grabbed your keys on your way out.

“Don’t worry about that, it was on me anyway.” Charlie said, scrolling through UberEats on his phone for something to order. “What are you feeling?”

“Char, I’m not letting you pay! At least let me Venmo you?” you asked, already beginning to feel guilty at the fact that he offered to pay.

“Y/N” he said, putting his phone down and turning to face you, “You’re not paying,” he placed both hands on your cheeks, squishing them slightly, “Do not. Worry. About it.”

“But Charlie,” you replied, turning your body to face him straight on, “I. Feel. Bad” you mimicked his position, placing both hands on his cheeks and squishing them. And there the two of you were, hands on each other’s cheeks, squishing them. That was until you heard Charlie’s bedroom door slowly creak open.

“Hey guys, Jer and I were just wondering if you wanted to order food?” Owen asked, walking in while looking down at his phone. When he looked up and noticed the way you two were positioned, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Uh, I’m sorry, did I walk in on something?” he asked concerned, but slightly amused.

“Perfect timing Owen!” Charlie said, taking his hands off your cheeks and grabbing his phone again, “Y/N and I were just having the same conversation”

“I was thinking maybe Chinese?” Owen asked, resuming his scrolling on his phone. You and Charlie looked at each other, an unsure look on your face.

“Eh, not really feelin’ it” Charlie replied, going back to his phone for food inspiration.

“I was kind of craving pasta from that Italian place down the street” you said.

“Pomodoro?” Charlie asked, and immediately he looked at Owen and they gave each other the same look. “Yes!” They both said at the same time.

“I’ll go ask Jer what he wants, text me your orders.” Owen replied, leaving the room. But before Owen asked Jeremy what he wanted to eat, he explained in detail what he saw when he walked in on you and Charlie. The two boys grinned at each other, knowing how the two of you felt about the other, and knowing that neither of you would say anything to the other.

When the food arrived, the four of you sat in the small living room eating, joking, and watching a variety of YouTube videos. You loved hanging out with the guys, it was always entertaining and you definitely got a workout from how much you laughed.

After everyone had finished eating, the four of you decided to put on a movie. You sat next to Charlie on the smaller couch, leaning into his side, while Owen laid out on the bigger couch and Jeremy had a spot on the floor with some pillows.

You’re not sure how long into the movie you made it, but eventually you fell asleep on Charlie’s shoulder. He hadn’t noticed you fell asleep until Owen brought it up.

“Hey man, she out?” he asked, leaning up on the couch. Jeremy looked over too, noticing your sleeping figure resting against Charlie. Charlie glanced down at you, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Yeah, she must’a fell asleep” he said, eyes resting on you a little longer before turning to look at Owen. Owen smirked and looked at Jeremy, who matched his smirk before the two boys looked back at Charlie. “What’s the look for?” he asked confused.

“Oh, come on, Charlie!” Jeremy said, “You are head over heels for her!” he whisper shouted.

“And you have been since day one” Owen added.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Charlie whisper shouted back. The boys couldn’t see but underneath the blanket, Charlie was pulling you closer to him. He felt like he had to protect you despite there really being nothing to protect you from.

“Don’t avoid it Charlie, it’s so obvious” Owen retorted.

“The only question is, when are you finally going to tell her?” Jeremy asked.

As Charlie was forming his response, his felt you shift next to him. All three boys shifted their gaze to you, hoping you hadn’t heard what they were talking about. You shifted so that your face was resting in the crook of Charlie’s neck. He shivered at the feeling of your breath on his skin.

“Char?” you asked, too sleepy to open your eyes. Charlie squeezed your side to let you know he was there.

“What’s up? You alright?” he asked.

“ ‘m fine. What time is it?”

“Uh, it’s about 12:30”

“Shit!” you said, quickly sitting up from your comfortable position and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, “The last bus leaves in 30 minutes, I gotta go!” You started to stand up from the couch, but Charlie grabbed your hips, sitting you back down on the couch.

“Chill, Y/N! I’m not letting you get on a bus in the middle of the night! You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the couch tonight” Charlie said, trying to calm you down. Jeremy coughed from the other side of the room, giving Charlie a look. Jeremy was crashing on the couch considering that he didn’t actually live there and had planned to spend the night. Charlie shot back a ‘not now’ look, returning his focus on you.

“I can’t take your bed. I’ll take the couch” you said, not wanting to put your friend out any more than you had tonight.

“Well, actually, I-I’m supposed to be sleeping on the couch” Jeremy finally spoke up. Charlie shot him a look, causing Jeremy to shrug and shy back out of the conversation.

“Then I’ll take the floor, but I’m not taking your bed” You said, bundling the blanket that was piled next to you.

“Y/N, you are not sleeping on the damn floor. Either you sleep in my bed or we’re both sleeping on the floor. End of story” Charlie said, a little more stern this time.

“Well with that logic, why don’t we both just sleep in the bed?” you asked, shrugging. Charlie’s eyes went wide. Owen and Jeremy’s heads quickly turned their attention to you, smirks threatening to appear on their faces.

“I-I mean, if-if you’re cool with that, yeah we could do that” Charlie stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected you to offer to share a bed with him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to pass this opportunity up.

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t cool with it, but now that we’ve settled that, I’m tired. Goodnight boys!” you said, standing up and waving.

“ ‘night!” Owen and Jeremy replied, waving as you made your way back to Charlie’s room. What you didn’t see was the two boys silently cheering Charlie on as he slowly stood and made his way to his room.

You were already tucked away when he made it, closing the door softly behind him. He made his way through the dark and found his way to bed. He slipped in next to you, laying awkwardly on his back, not exactly knowing how to sleep next to you. He turned his head to look at you. Your back was facing him, breathing slow. He figured that you’d already fallen asleep given how tired you were, so he got comfortable and eventually fell asleep.

Charlie woke with a start when he heard you start to cry out in your sleep. He couldn’t make out what you were saying but he knew that you were having a nightmare. He immediately pulled your back close to his chest, arms wrapping around you. His cheek was pressed against yours as he whispered in your ear. “Hey, hey, you’re alright, I’m here, you’re okay” You woke up, heart racing, and hands grasping Charlie’s arms that wrapped around your middle. He loosened them enough for you to turn around and face him.

“What would I do without you?” you asked, cuddling closer into his chest, eyes closing in comfort. Charlie took a deep breath, he felt like now was the time to tell you. Tell you how he really felt, how much he wanted to never be without you.

“Y/N?” he whispered?

“Yeah, Char?”

“Can I tell you something?” He was trying to keep his nerves down, knowing you’d be able to feel him shaking.

“Of course, you can tell me anything.” You replied, shifting to lean slightly over him. He mimicked your position, the two of you leaning to face the other. “I like you. Um, like more than a friend kind of like you. And I don’t want this to ruin what we have so if you don’t feel the same way that’s- that’s cool we can forget I said this.” Charlie rambled. You were taken aback by the sudden out poor of emotional truth. Charlie was beginning to accept that you didn’t feel the same way until you made a move. You leaned in and kissed Charlie, all of the bottled-up feelings coming to the surface.

“I like you too, Char,” you whispered, hand cupping the side of his face, “God, I’ve liked you since the day we met” you laughed, remembering your first encounter on set with Charlie. Charlie sighed from relief from next to you.

“I was so scared you didn’t feel the same…”

“How could I not, Charlie? I literally couldn’t survive without you.” You spoke. A smile crept its way onto Charlie’s face before he leaned in for another kiss, deeper and more passionate than the first. The two of you spent much of the rest of the night like that, moving between sleep and giggly sleepy kisses. The next morning, the two of you slept in a little later than normal, and laid in bed cuddled up watching TikToks, sneaking kisses in between. It was a kind of bliss you didn’t think you’d ever experience. Both of your heads turned when a short knock was made against the door.

“Are you guys dead in there?” Owen asked through the door. The two of you chuckled from the bed.

“We’re fine Owen!” Charlie shouted.

“Are you sure? It’s like noon-thirty and I haven’t heard anything from either of you?” Owen shouted back. You laughed at the boys, moving to get out of the bed and answer the door. Charlie pouted at the lack of you next to him. You opened the door to see a concerned looking Owen.

“Good morning, Owen” you smiled.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, noticing Charlie’s lack of shirt and a messy bed.

“No, you didn’t. We were just getting up to grab some breakfast” you replied.

“Oh, well I was going to ask if you guys wanted some waffles? Jeremy and I just made some” he said, still looking between you and Charlie, attempting to put the pieces together on what happened when the two of you went to bed last night.

“I’d love some waffles! Let me just grab my sweatshirt and I’ll be right there!”

Owen nodded, leaving the room. You turned to look for your sweatshirt somewhere on the floor. Feeling two arms wrap around your waist, you giggled, placing your arms over Charlie’s.

“You know you don’t have to go out there.” He said, lips hovering just over your ear.

“No, I don’t have to.” You said, “But we need to eat.”

“There’s something right here I could eat.” Charlie replied. You spun around quickly in his arms, slapping him lightly on the upper arm.

“Charlie!” You couldn’t believe how quickly he responded with that!

“What!? It’s true!” he winked at you.

“Well too bad because that is currently not on the menu. I want waffles!” you said before breaking free of his grasp, grabbing your sweatshirt and skipping out of the room to the kitchen. Charlie was left standing in his room, mouth agape, but laughing at how you handled that. What would he do without you?

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quindolyn · 3 years

Text

Midnight Walks || James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 4363

Note: Dedicated to 🦎anon from @/randomoutsiders blog. Where I live it’s already 84℉ so this completely feasible but if you don’t live in hell and it's still cold and wintery outside just push it back a few months.

Warnings: Insecure reader, like 2 sexual comments because I’m filthy, talk of men being pigs and not keeping their hands to themselves, lots of fluff, modern muggle au, monkey bars, public nonsexual stripping,

Masterlist

Part 2

There were ants in your bones, there must’ve been. Either that or someone was trying to feather dust their way out of them. Your entire body itched with the urge to move, to run, to scream and jump in the middle of the street. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what drove this overwhelming desire, perhaps it was some sort of primal reason coded into your DNA, alternatively maybe it was the sitting at your computer all day. One could only attend so many online classes before they went insane, and a decent way into your second semester and still no sign of going back in person anytime before the next school year. You were like a purebred who desperately needed exercise. It would’ve been a simple enough fix if it wasn’t already 10:17, the sun having set four or so hours ago, even though you lived in a pretty nice area you didn’t feel comfortable going out. Men were disgusting, and going out this late alone meant risking life and limb because too many men thought it was okay to touch what wasn’t theirs. Fucking toddlers. So instead you were forced to open your windows in attempts to replicate the natural breeze and try to find another outlet for your energy. You tried. You really did. Jumping jacks, planks, the few yoga poses you could recall off the top of your head, dancing around your house to your favorite songs, but the music didn’t feel like it usually did, even it couldn’t soothe the itching in your bones. You were fucked, simply and truly. Too energetic without the proper outlet. After none of those things worked you sat down to attempt to get some of your weekend homework done, but somewhere between ionization energy and confidence intervals you found yourself picking at your nail polish instead of paying attention to your work. Groaning you threw your head down onto your desk, wincing as the pain from the impact spread through your skull. Closing your eyes you tried to imagine it, the cool night air in your face, blowing through your mangled tresses, the thud of your feet against the pavement of the sidewalk, the feeling of the grass at the park tickling your exposed skin as you stared up at the cloudy sky, looking for stars. You swore you could almost feel it all, almost pulled into bliss when you were yanked from your reprieve by the buzzing of your phone. Groaning, you pulled your head up, it wobbled on your neck, as though it was loose and needed to be tightened. Had you wanted to you couldn’t have stopped the smile that broke across your phone when you saw the notification on your lock screen, a text from James. Can I call you? Sure. You typed out waiting anxiously for your ringtone to blare through your room. Instead you were met with another brief buzz. One second, Sirius is being an idiot. Another smile, smaller than the last, bloomed across your face, Sirius was often an idiot. Picking up your phone you pressed it to your ear just in time to hear James greet you. “Hey baby.” Loving James was potentially one of the easiest things you’d ever done, if asked you would've said it would be easier to stop breathing before you stopped loving him. There was just so much to love and as his voice tickled your ear you remembered one of the things you so loved about him, the sound of his voice. With two simple words he was able to soothe you, if only a little bit. But still the ache to be outside lessened a little. “Hi Jamsie.” You crooned into the phone as you shut down your laptop coming to the conclusion you were going to get jack shit done tonight. You distantly heard Sirius in the background but couldn’t make out any words, “Pads says hi.” James conveyed. “Hi Siri!” You yelled into the phone, you waited until the bickering and laughing on their side of the phone quieted before continuing, “Whatcha callin’ about bub?” “Missed you is all, was wondering what you were doing?” “Nothing much, tried to get some homework done.” James chuckled knowing how distracted you could get if someone wasn’t there to help you stay on track, “How’d that go?” “Not well,” You grumbled, “S’not my fault either, can’t focus. I just need some fresh air, I need to go on a walk but I can’t.” Flinging your body onto your bed and landing on your back you pulled the phone from your ear, turning it onto speaker and setting it on your belly, liking the vibrations against your body as James spoke. It was almost like he was there with you. “I’m sorry darling,” James knew exactly what you were talking about. Unlike a lot of men he wasn’t afraid to broach topics like these, he would sit and kiss your head if some guy at the grocery store had been a prick and couldn't keep his eyes or his hands off of your ass, or if one of the boys in your class had made an objectifying comment. He’d listen to you lament and apologize, on behalf of all men, for the disgusting things you were forced to deal with. He had learned a lot since you started dating, he’d always been a feminist but before you hadn’t really understood what that meant. His mother and father always made sure he was aware of gender biases and he’d heard stories of women being assaulted, harassed, discriminated against and perhaps it made him a bad person but when it happened to you, when you told him about these things it was different, it was worse, he couldn’t control the rage that bubbled up inside of him. You were (Y/N) (L/N), you were his, you deserved to be treated like royalty. No one got to disrespect you. He felt the pang in his heart when he pictured you holed up in your house, like a caged animal, desperate to get out. “I know, and I love you.” You responded, knowing he hated how you had to be afraid and cautious all the time. “I love you too.” “What were you doing before you called?” You asked after a beat. “Watching a movie with mom and Sirius.” A twinge of guilt twisted in your stomach, “Oh, you should go back to them Jamsie, I don’t want to keep you from your family.” James stopped himself before he could tell you that they’d already finished the movie as an idea hit him like most of his ideas hit him, suddenly and fleetingly. Remus once compared them to a freight train. “Okay angel, talk to you later.” “Bye, Jamsie.” He hung up immediately as the last syllable left your lips causing a frown to tug downwards at those aforementioned lips. Sure, you felt a bit guilty that he’d bailed on his mom and Sirius for you but you couldn’t help feeling a little sad that he was so ready to get rid of you the second he had a chance. Feeling all too familiar insecurity simmer from under your sternum questions popped into your head one after another. Did he really want to be with you? Was this all because he just pitied you? Were you just a substitute for Lily? Did his heart still belong to her? What did he even see in you? You couldn’t help but feel like nothing compared to her, she’s Lily Evans. And you’re, well you’re just not. Time had slipped away from you, you hadn’t realised how much until you felt your phone buzz against your stomach and saw that almost 15 minutes had passed since James had hung up on you. You only briefly noted the time before your eyes flashed down to the banner displayed across your screen, another text. Look out your window. Lifting your torso, propping yourself up on your forearms and twisted your head to see James’ smiling face plastered against your window, a huge, beautiful grin, stretching across his face. You could feel a matching one fan out across your face as you skipped to the window, pulling it open relishing in the cool breeze that let itself into your room. “Hey there handsome.” You joked. “Hey beautiful.” “What are you doing outside my window?” You were befuddled, wasn’t he supposed to be watching some Quentin Tarantino or equally violent movies that he and Siri liked? “I was thinking we could go on a walk,” He explained unabashedly. “A walk?” You asked, a blush blossoming on your face, creeping its way down your neck. “You wanted to go on one, yeah?” “I love you.” Was all you said in response, he caught you as you threw yourself into his arms, the middle of your thighs biting into the sill of your window, but you didn’t care. How could you? All you could focus on was the way his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to him so he could bury his nose into your hair. “Love you too darling.” There was a part of you, an admittedly large part, that wanted to stay standing there forever but the cool evening air reminded you about how much you wanted that walk. Peeling yourself away from him you placed your chin on his pectoral, not considerably comfortable for either of you, but you were close to each other, and that’s all that mattered. “Come in.” “I was waiting for you to ask.” He winked, slinging one leg over the windowsill giving him room to maneuver his rather large body through the small opening, but James had experience fitting his body into tiny things (namely your cunt). “Are your parents home?” “No, everyone’s gone for the night.” “Why didn’t you tell me baby, I would’ve come over and kept you company.” You felt heat creep back up your neck to your face, embarrassed by the answer. Though your insecurities could swallow you whole when you were alone, they seemed trivial when James was actually there, staring down at you with so much love in his eyes. “Don’t want to be clingy.” The confession bringing even more heat to your cheeks. “Never, (Y/N), absolutely never. If anyone here is clingy it's me not you.” You corrected him, “You’re wonderful.” “So are you bub.” Reassuring you he brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “Now come on! Let’s get some shoes on you and we can go out.”

James was filling up an old water bottle he found in one of the cupboards in case either of you got thirsty when you entered the kitchen, shoes and socks in hand. Your boy smiled at you, twisting the cap of the water bottle on all of the way before setting it on the countertop and moving towards you. “Want me to put your shoes on for you?” “Yes please.” You nodded, grinning cheekily. His large hands found your waist, lifting you up and setting your bum onto the cool counter. Slipping the socks from your hand he knelt down to roll them over your feet, leaving a kiss on the inside of each of your ankles. “You wanna walk to anywhere in particular?” “The park?” You offered, handing him one of your tennis shoes which were a little beat up, but still a long way from needing to be replaced. “The one with the fountain?” “Do you know of any other parks within walking distance?” You snarked, swinging your legs, feeling the need to be outside return, faster and more powerful than before. “Guess not,” He grumbled, looking up at you with a playful smile so you would know he didn’t really take your sarcasm to heart. “Hey watch it!” He chuckled when you accidentally swung your leg a little too hard and knocked his left shoulder with your socked foot. “Sorry.” You apologized looking about as sorry as Sirius usually did when he was apologizing, which honestly wasn’t much. “There you go Cinderella.” He said, as he pat your thigh once he finished tying your laces, rising from his kneeling position. “You think you’re funny do you Potter?” “In fact I do (L/N).” He grinned, sliding you off the counter, onto your feet. “Shall we?” You offered your hand to him which he accepted like a true gentleman. “We shall.”

You were right, but then again, when were you ever wrong? Fresh air was exactly what you needed, the feeling of the wind in your hair, the twigs snapping beneath your weight, the solidness of the ground. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this alive. That was probably stupid but it was liberating to be out of your house, and on top of it it was nighttime too. You weren’t often able to be out this late because you usually didn’t have someone to go out with. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was when there was no glass separating you from the moon and the stars. Despite the fact that his legs were far longer than yours James still had to speed walk to keep up with you. His heart swelled seeing you so happy and carefree as you strode unapologetically down the sidewalk. “Stop walking so fast.” He complained, finally matching your stride as he loosely looped his left arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible while still keeping the two of you moving forward. “Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.” You retaliated but nevertheless still resting your head on his broad shoulder. “It’s nice out isn’t it?” He pondered aloud. “It’s wonderful,” You agreed, closing your eyes and turning your face up towards the sky, trusting James to guide you safely down the sidewalk, “I’m sorry you had to ditch your mom and Siri to come be with me.” You apologized as another wave of guilt from earlier hit you. “I didn’t bubba, we’d already finished the movie when I called you.” “Really?” Your head perked up. “Mhm.” James hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me that?’ “Wanted to surprise you.” He explained and your heart soared, he really was indescribably sweet. “Well I was surprised.” “Good.” “What movie did you watch?” Wondering if your suspicions had been correct. “Forrest Gump.” He responded by popping his “p”. You laughed squeezing two of James’ fingers on the hand splayed across your stomach. “What?” “Nothin’, just thought you and Pads would’ve made your mom watch Reservoir Dogs or something.” “Come on, you know me and Padfoot (Y/N), nothin’ but a couple of softies the two of us.” “Yes, yes you are.” You responded completely seriously. “You were supposed to disagree, he whispered into your ear. “I cannot tell a lie.” “Hey!” He exclaimed in mock offense. “Come on I found the two fo you cuddling when I came over Wednesday, he was literally spooning you Jamsie. It was rather cute really.” James let you have the last word and the two of you were silent for a minute as you passed a house with a line of cars in front of it, stupid fucking people and their stupid fucking parties. You thought, thinking they’re more important than the rest of us, that it’s okay to throw a party during the middle of a pandemic. “There’s a pandemic going on people,” James muttered as you crossed in front of the driveway, as though he was reading your thoughts. You just nestled into him more. Once you cleared the super spreader house it was only a few feet before you turned the corner and your desired destination came into view causing a ginormous smile to practically crack your face in half. “Come on Jamie!” You giggled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the street towards the park, not even looking both ways as you bolted across the street to the park. You’d always thought that parks and playgrounds and such looked a bit creepy after dark and while today was no exception you still didn’t think twice before bounding up the steps of the play structure. Laughing, you turned your face back up towards the sky as you reached down to slip your shoes and socks off, tossing them off the play structure onto the wood chips scattered across the ground. “You look beautiful up there.” You hadn’t noticed James approach you, but he was now standing at the foot of the play structure, looking up at you. “Come up here with me Jamie, please?” You pleaded, tugging on his arm. “How could I deny you anything?” “Simple,” You responded, “You can’t.” Pushing himself up onto the structure he tried to envelop you in his arms but you squirmed away, giggling. As you ran toward the slide at the opposite end of the playground he broke out into a run after you, purposefully keeping his strides short to give you the upper hand. Breaking out into a sprint as soon as your feet touched the ground you raced towards the open field, James hot on your heels. He chased you around the perimeter of the grassy clearing, the two of you yelling at each other and laughing until your lungs hurt when he finally caught you in his arms, trying to get you as close to him as possible. He loved the feeling of your body against his more than he loved life itself. Or even Sirius. “What should I do with you now that I’ve captured you?” He mused tauntingly, tightening his grip on you. “Well I know one thing you could do to me.” You murmured. “(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), get your mind out of the gutter Miss,” “Make me.” You teased, wiggling in his grasp. “I know what’ll fix your attitude.” James declared, adjusting his so his arms were around your waist instead of one there and one wrapped around your shoulders. “And what’s that?” “A nice February swim!” He roared jovially, hefting you over his shoulder as he bounded towards the fountain located on the east side of the park. “Jamie!” You shrieked as you bounced against him, “Slow down.” “Sorry Princess,” He huffed once you reached the fountain, he carefully lifted you off his shoulder and sat you down on the ledge of the water feature as he kneeled before you, hands pressing against your thighs. “Come on baby, go swimming with me?” “Course.” You smiled as you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere over Jamie’s shoulder. You didn’t bother watching where it landed, too enraptured with the gorgeous boy on his knees in front of you. “You look gorgeous (Y/N).” He murmured, taking it the sight of your bare stomach and chest clad in a lacy lavender bra. “I let you see mine, now get your shirt off Potter!” You commanded impatiently, you loved James all the time, but you especially loved James shirtless. “Okay, okay woman, calm down, I'm moving.” He playfully chastised shrugging off his jacket which you just now realised was his varsity jacket, his last name emblazoned across the back of it. When he caught you staring at him he teasingly played with the hem of his shirt, rolling it in the tips of his fingers until you lightly kicked his bent knee. He then discarded his pants, throwing them and his shirt somewhere to his right, carefully laying his jacket on a bench a few feet away he was left only in his boxers and you took this time to appreciate how his skin shown in the moonlight, his darker complexion brilliant in the darkness of the park. “You wanna keep your shorts on? He lilted, moving towards where you sat on the bench encircling the fountain. You nodded in response, not wanting to be so vulnerable in such a public space. “Okay baby sounds good.” James leaned in towards you pressing his lips to yours before he scooped you into his arms before stepping into the fountain, even though it was warm ish outside the water of the fountain hadn’t had enough time to truly heat up because the water that lapped at his midcalf almost had him feeling bad for what he did next. Which was dropping you into the freezing cold water, keeping you upright by his hold on your shoulders before you were able to ground yourself on the floor of the fountain. With water sprouting up from the top and cascading down 4 smaller tiers reminiscent of bird baths, getting larger and larger in radius as they went down, cold water nipped at your skin. “Agh!” You shrieked, “It’s freezing!” “Calm down drama queen!” James snorted, “Little cold water never hurt anybody.” “Speak for yourself!” Screaming as James bent down to splash you with water you tried to run away resulting in you falling backwards onto your bum. “You okay baby?” James asked nervously bending down next to you, surveying your near naked body for any cuts or bruises. Your response came as you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, submerging the entirety of his body in the chilly water. He quickly pulled you down with him so that your head was submerged, your hair billowing out around you in the water. When you pulled back up to the surface your wet hair was plastered to your face. And though you were cold, wet, and maybe a little banged up your heart was aflame, this had been exactly what you needed, to run around like a little kid and lose yourself, if only for a little while. Glancing back down your jaw dropped, the light coming from the fountain walls made the shadows of the water reflect on James’ dark skin making him look even more beautiful, like something out of a book. He took your temporary lapse as an opportunity to flip you around so that he was on top of you, he thought you were always stunning but something about you beneath him made you shine like nothing else he’d ever seen. Taking good care to make sure your head didn’t bump against the fountain, and that your head was above water, he trailed kisses from your temple to your jaw. When he reached your chin the second freight train of the night hit him head on and he stuck out his tongue licking from the point of your chin, up your lips, the bridge of your nose, and up your forehead until he reached your hair line where he left one more gentle kiss. “James Potter!” You shrieked, a giggling mess, “What the hell?” He lifted himself off you so he could once again scoop you into his arms, “Come on my little water nymph, let’s get you dry, don’t need you getting sick on me.” “Think you should’ve thought about that before you dunked me into the fountain in nothing but my bra and shorts.” You retaliated to which he only rolled his eyes, before shaking his head like a wet dog. “I swear to God Potter, you’re a Golden Retriever.” “Hmh?” He asked, stepping out of the fountain. “Playful, loyal, energetic, smart.” You explained, planting a kiss on his nose. “Shaking off to dry like a fucking dog.” “You love me.” He grinned, like the thought was just now hitting him, like you hadn’t said it already multiple times that night. “That I do Potter.” You agreed as he set you down on the bench where he had laid his jacket, taking care to slip your arms into it one at a time he pulled it close to your body to keep you warm before coming up behind you, tipping your head back so he could wring the excess water out of it, taking this as an opportunity to kiss the hollow of your throat to which you hummed. Upon slipping on his previously discarded pants and shirt, an endeavor you watched very closely, not wanting to miss a second of how his muscles shifted underneath his smooth, taut skin, he sat down next to you. “It’s a beautiful night.” “That it is.” You agreed. The two of you sat there for a moment before James carefully stood up, “Where are you going Jamie? Too tired now, m’done playing.” “I know angel, come on, not gonna play, just get more comfortable.” He soothed, taking you by the hand and walking you over to a set of fairly new monkey bars. Picking you up from the bottom of your thighs he pushed you up and above his shoulders to sit on top of the monkey bars and you were reminded why it sometimes came in handy to be dating the captain of the football team. Swinging up next to you on the monkey bars he slid his arm around your shoulders, both of your legs meeting the edge of the cold metal at the bend of your knees, your bodies there down hanging off leaving the both of you on your backs staring up at the unusually starry night sky. “There’s Orion.” You lifted your arm to point out the constellation, “ Surprised we can see so many.” You marvelled. “It is rather pretty.” “‘Rather pretty’?” You gasped exasperated with the boy next to you, “It’s not just ‘rather pretty’, it's gorgeous!” You corrected with a huff, turning your visage back up towards the heavens. “Eh,” He shrugged, “I’ve seen better.” “I swear to God, James Fleamont Potter if you say ‘You’re prettier than any constellation’ I’m going to push you off these monkey bars.” A chuckle pushed its way past his lips as he brushed his lips along the part of your hair, “You know me too well don’t you (L/N).” “Yeah, I’ve got your number Mister.” James pulled out his phone to check the time, “Hey baby, it’s midnight.” He whispered in your ear, turning his phone screen so you could read the time. “Happy Saturday my darling boy.” “Happy Saturday Princess, let’s get you home.”

Note: I know in my initial ask on @/randomoutsiders you guys went home and more fluff ensued. Maybe a part two?

tagging: @randomoutsiders

#harry potter #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you

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dottielovegood · 3 years

Text

ASMR - Chapter 4

Elriel fanfiction

About this fic:

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

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

Read this fic on AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Azriel and Cassian answered in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel’s hands were sweaty.

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

Just seconds later, Elain answered.

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

Azriel Should I be worried?

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

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

Azriel So, I’m your muse? ;)

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

Elain For tonight, yes!

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

Elain What are you doing tonight?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel Really? Which character would you be?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azriel felt all warm inside.

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

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

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

All thanks to Flower Girl ASMR.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

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

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

Rhys greeted him by the door and ushered him inside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something was burning.

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

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

The potatoes were still in the sink, unpeeled.

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

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

“Anything.” She sounded desperate.

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

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

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

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

“Right?”

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

“Sounds fancy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you need my phone?”

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

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

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

What the hell had they found?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you...know her?” Azriel asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He made a list in his head:

Elain lived in Velaris

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

Nesta thought that they would be cute together

This meant nothing

She probably didn’t even like him back

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

This was still just a crush

And it was probably one-sided

She hadn’t even answered his latest text message.

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

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

He mentally scratched number 9 from his list.

Azriel No worries! Did you fix the leak?

Azriel checked the time on his phone: 23.30

Had she dealt with this leak until now?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a selfie attached to the last message.

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

Elain Sweaty but happy to be heading home :)

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

But then he thought back to Nesta’s words.

You would probably be cute together.

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

Azriel You still look beautiful though

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

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

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

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

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

Within seconds, he received a reply.

Elain Beautiful!

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

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peachsayshi · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11 - Friends

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Fluff

Summary: You convince Gojo to make up with your best friend and memories from the past come up.

A/N: A wild ex-boyfriend appears! I am finally introducing the character and getting into some backstory. I got some smutty chapters coming up, which I am excited to share because I do love writing sexy Gojo X comments are always appreciated!

- - -

( Three Years Ago)

You cleared the plates in front of you as you made your way back to your kitchen. You packed the meal that you had taken the time to meticulously prepare, including the expensive steaks you bought this morning and the vegetables that you hand picked at the farmer’s market. As you opened the fridge to put away the items, you saw the row of vanilla cupcakes placed neatly on a pan, your shaky handwriting spread across each one that read “ Five Years ” with red hearts decorated on the extras. Suddenly, it all seemed silly how you took the time to prepare a surprise anniversary dinner for your boyfriend. You’ve both been together for so long but you still insisted on making every occasion special.

After you tidied up your dining table, you picked up the wine glass you have been nursing for the last hour and made your way over to your bedroom, where you sat on the chair next to your vanity. You removed the earrings that your boyfriend had bought you for your birthday, your favorite pair because they matched beautifully against your skin, and safely tucked them away in your jewelry box. You were disappointed that you made such a big deal out of tonight, feeling like a sentimental fool as you took a sip of your drink. Haru has been so preoccupied with work lately and the pressure of being in a highly competitive field was getting to him. Of course with the way things have been he wouldn’t remember that tonight was your anniversary dinner. You were trying to be mature about it but you couldn’t ignore that you were hurt. You glanced at your phone, reading 10:45 on the clock before finally giving up on the hope that he would show up.

You removed the dress you were wearing, a bold shade of orange that accentuated your body in all the right places - a dress that he bought you while you both went on a summer trip to Okinawa a few years ago. You changed into something a little more comfortable, throwing on a tank top and some loose lounge pants instead.

You heard your phone ping, a message popping up on the screen from Gojo.

Gojo : How did the dinner go?

You sighed to yourself, before plopping down onto your mattress. You tapped away at the keyboard, erasing each message a few times as you were unsure whether you wanted to vent or give him a brief explanation.

You : It didn’t…I think he’s still at work :(

Gojo : That sucks :\ Well, if you have any leftover cupcakes, I will gladly take them off your hands.

You: Nice try, idiot.

Gojo: I didn’t hear you say I couldn’t have any :)

When you didn’t respond to his message, Gojo followed up with another text that read:

Gojo: You okay?

You: I’m fine, I was just looking forward to tonight. I’ll get over myself. Tell me about your night, you can keep me preoccupied from my disappointment lol

Gojo merely responded with some eye emojis, a cheeky indication as to what he has been up to this evening.

You: At least one of us got some action...what’s her name?

Gojo: No idea, I was too distracted by her legs to care.

You merely rolled your eyes at his comment.

You: It doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?

Gojo: I’m a simple guy, really…

You: …

Gojo: …

You: In WHAT universe?!

Gojo : Pshh, so mean to me all the time :(

You: With reason :)

You smiled when you sent that last text, grateful that Gojo came in at the right time with a distraction. You tried your best not to dwell on the dismal way your evening ended and instead continued to list off the many reasons why the word “simple” and “Gojo Satoru” did not go hand and hand with each other. Your conversation made time fly but that was usually the case whenever you spoke with your friend.

You were so lost in the playfully heated debate you were having, you barely heard the knock coming from your front door.

You abandoned your conversation to see who it was, surprised to find a massive bouquet of flowers greeting you on the other side.

“What…”

Haru peaked from behind the flowers, his sweet smile spreading as he looked at you with sad eyes.

“Happy anniversary!” he chirped, but you could hear the anxiousness in his tone. “ I know I’m late, I know I missed dinner…”

A deep sigh escaped him, as he slightly slumped his shoulders, extending both his hands out to you to pass the bouquet.

“I know this is a meaningless gift in comparison to whatever amazing thing you prepared, I know my efforts don’t even come close to yours, you always put so much care into everything you do. By the time I knew I was late, I was running around the city like a mad man hoping that someone, anyone, would be kind enough to open their shop for me so I would at least not come back empty handed…”

“Haru, take a breath…” you replied, hearing how quickly he was blurting out his words, something he usually did when he was nervous.

You took the bouquet from his hands, admiring the selected assortment of your favorite florals, all picked out by your boyfriend. You traced your fingers along each petal, some a little bruised and you could tell that these flowers were from the leftovers of the day.

Haru approached you, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips.

“I’m so sorry . None of my excuses justify missing dinner tonight. I swear I am going to make it up to you…”

You tried to calm him down, running your fingers through his light brown hair and taking in every word he said as you remained focused on his hazel eyes. Your heart flutters thinking of him galavanting around the city in his disheveled work suit trying to knock on every florists’ door, a funny anecdote you will surely use against him in the future.

“How do you plan on making it up to me?” You teased, noticing the way his brow raised at your question.

He pulled you closer into him, planting kisses along your neck before he brushed his lips against your ear to say, “I’m taking the weekend off, how does a nice trip to Hakone sound?”

“ Mmm, ideal… ” you replied, clutching the bouquet of flowers as he hugged you, “but if you keep holding me close, you’re going to ruin this lovely gift you bought me…”

“Then I’ll buy you another, and another, and another ...until I’ve given you enough flowers so that you can plant an entire garden,” he kissed you again, his fingers stroking the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby…�� he repeated, his voice wavering slightly from his second apology.

“It’s okay, work comes first. I know you have been busy and probably should have planned our evening with you instead of surprising you. But you’re here now and that's what matters.”

He nodded his head, finally untangling himself from your arms, relieved that you seemed to have forgiven him.

“ I love you so much.”

“ I love you too, Haru .”

You gave him a small smile, tilting your head towards the direction of your kitchen, “It might be too late for dinner but I baked you some cupcakes if you’re up for a little snack…”

Haru removed his blazer, carefully hanging it over his elbow before undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. He held your hand, following your footsteps as you led him into the direction of your kitchen.

“ I can’t wait to try them. ”

( Present)

“ You brought me here under false pretences …” Gojo grumbled, holding himself back as you tugged on his jacket.

It’s been four months since the two of you started hooking up and weeks since he and Rina have even spoken to one another.

After Gojo confessed that she knew about your relationship, you managed to find the time to sit down with your best friend for a heart to heart. The two of you had a ritual which included locking yourselves up in a room with snacks and drinks until you came to resolve whatever conflict you were dealing with.

“I just don’t understand why you kept this from me,” Rina explained, before taking a sip of the mixed cocktail you both made.

“ You’ve been so overprotective ever since Haru and I broke up…it’s hard for me to talk to you because you start analyzing every little thing I do. Like when I told you I wanted to stop dating for a while, you kept insisting that I was making a mistake because I was running scared…”

“I also know you’re a hopeless romantic, and a few bad dates weren’t fitting this idealised version you have of love…” Rina pressed, “You got lucky with Haru, but diving back into the game takes time and work…”

“I know I was lucky. I know it’s not usual for the first guy you meet to be so… good ,” you replied, that word tasting bitter in your mouth, “But you keep pressuring me into something I am not ready for…”

“That’s not true!”

“Rina, you would take me out on “surprise” double dates when the two of us were just supposed to just be hanging out together. Whenever I talk about Haru, you shut down and change the subject immediately. I can’t even have a night out together without you herding every single eligible male and asking me my opinion…”

Rina sighed, “it sounds way worse when you say it out loud...”

“It’s like you can’t stand that I’m just… a little broken . I let Haru become a part of who I am for five years and losing him feels like I lost a part of me, and I am struggling trying to get that person back. You want me to be okay so badly it’s stopping me from opening up to you…”

Rina inched her way closer as the two of you sat side by side. A sigh escaped her before she spoke, “I’m not good at this…I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I just can’t stand seeing you so hurt. I know that he took a piece of your happiness and I am so angry that he did. I hate that he betrayed your trust, but more so that you haven’t been able to be yourself without him…”

She squeezed your shoulder before giving you a gentle reminder, “but he never defined you. You’re attaching yourself to the love you had for him. And you will find somebody else, somebody better …”

“Maybe but I can’t see myself falling in love again…at least not anytime soon…”

Rina rested her head on your elbow, “I don’t want you to ever think you can’t speak to me…we’ve lasted way longer than all the exes that have walked in and out of our lives…”

You were happy to mend this small fracture, one of the many that has tried to hinder your friendship.

You eventually explained your little arrangement with Gojo, watching Rina’s reaction closely and trying to pull the truth of what she exactly said to him.

“I may have thought you were dating, like seriously dating, and told him he wasn’t good enough for you. I am glad to know that you are not. We don’t need to trade one man whore for another…”

You laughed, “Gojo has always made it clear that he has no desire to commit to anyone. I’m not worried. Besides, we can stop our arrangement anytime we are over it.”

“Sooo, when might that be?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “right now, I’m having fun and I think he is too…”

Rina hummed, you could tell she was thinking about something but whatever ran through her mind in that moment she chose to keep to herself.

Even though you and Rina smoothed things over, you realised that neither she or Gojo tried to make an effort to speak to one another. He was avoiding her at all costs while she chose to ignore the subject entirely. You still had no idea what was said that set those two off but you were over this cold game they were playing.

“Between your inability to handle any confrontation and her stubborn attitude, you two are going to drag this on for way longer than it needs to be…” you lectured.

You paused when you arrived at her store, staring up at Gojo with pleading eyes. “I don’t like being the reason why you two aren’t speaking… please just talk to her…”

Gojo whined, “throw it on my conscience instead, that way you have no reason to feel guilty…”

You furrowed your brows before letting go of him, but a thought passed your mind which gave you an idea, “Remember that thing you brought up the other night? Your little roleplaying idea…”

Gojo arched his brows from underneath his blindfold, surprised that you were even bringing this up. “ Yes… ”

You smirked, stepping closer to him without actually touching him at all. “If you do this for me then I'll happily return the favor…”

His eyes widened, his heart racing slightly as a wave of excitement rushed through him.

You could see he was contemplating your offer, finally scoffing in defeat. “You know saying no to you was a lot easier when you weren’t bribing me with sex…” he grumbled, as he begrudgingly walked passed you.

“You did tell me once that you were a man of simple taste…”

“And I vividly remember you disagreeing with me.”

“Thank you!” You called out watching him reach the handle of the entrance door.

“Just know I am expecting you to hold up your end of the deal,” he replied before making his way inside.

***

Gojo sat at the counter, the awkward silence hung heavy in the air as Rina waited for him to break the tension. When that didn’t happen, she sighed to herself before storming to the backroom of her shop.

Gojo waited for her return, his eyes widening when she finally reappeared with something in her hands.

“ I’m sorry for how I spoke to you,” she said, bowing in his direction and handing him some treats.

“Aww, Rina-chan, how did you know kikufuku was my favorite?” Gojo questioned, his tone softening his sweet words as he held the packet between his fingers.

“I heard it through the grapevine…”

Gojo couldn’t hide his pleasured grin.

You were always so considerate of everyone, going above and beyond to make them happy and paying close attention to the things they liked the most. You must have already spoken to Rina before he came here, playing the role of matchmaker between friends.

Rina definitely noticed his response.

“Thank you,” he replied as he opened up the packet, “I know your anger was coming from a protective place. I don’t fault you for it. Besides, you and I can happily agree on one thing…”

“What’s that?”

Gojo smirked, “she’s too good for me…”

Rina swallowed hard, mainly because of how sincere that statement actually sounded.

“I care about her…”

Gojo hummed to himself, taking a bite of the sweet snack. “And you think I don’t?”

“Can I be honest?”

“ Please. ”

“I am not questioning your care for her, I am questioning what your intentions are. I won’t apologize for not trusting you. You promised me after she broke up with Haru that you wouldn’t make a move on her but here we are now…”

“I kept my promise.”

“You found a loophole…”

“It’s been three years…she’s allowed to move on.”

“Yes she is…”

“You know, I was surprised by how angry you got at her for keeping us a secret, especially since we both know that there are plenty of things you’re hiding from her right now. Then I started thinking that it wasn’t the secret that was bothering you, you just don’t want her moving on with me…”

Rina averted her gaze, completely surprised by how easily Gojo read her.

“Like I said, I don’t trust you…”

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, “What did Haru tell you exactly?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I just want to know if you’re still adamant on convincing yourself that I am the bad guy or if you would like to know what actually happened between us…”

***

CHAPTER 12 - MUSE

#Gojo Satoru #Gojo Satoru x reader #Gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #Gojo Satoru x ofc #Gojo x ofc #Gojo Satoru x you #Gojo x you #gojo fanfic #jjk fan fiction #Gojo angst #Gojo fluff #Gojo smut

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Streets

His phone pinged with another comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: You should fuck her.

Kurt had to do a double take. Surely there was no way Bobby had just asked him to make a whole sex tape.

There were other ways to become famous, Kurt thought.

But he was desperate. And Bobby needed content.

Warning: some choking, sexual encounter

As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

You knew if you were late to work one more time you would be fired and then you wouldn’t be able to make rent this week, and then the crippling feeling of adulting and being a massive failure would hit you during a 3 am binge of cheap wine. You’d already promised your roommate you’d pay them back but it just seemed like a shitty week.

Your car wouldn’t start, unsurprisingly, since it had been making all sorts of noises the day before. Add it to the list of things you’d have to inevitably pay for.

You sighed, bringing your phone out and going through the apps. Lyft? Too expensive right now. Uber? Too many creeps. Spree? It was some new rideshare app you never really paid attention to until now. But the sweet sweet price of a trip from your home to work was unmistakable.

You eagerly awaited your chariot to hell, eyes glued on the screen to the driver’s name. Kurt.

He’s there almost instantly, and you have to make the connection between driver and image just in case. You can never be too careful.

“Kurt?” You ask, bending to meet him at eye level from the outside.

A notification bar from the top of your screen indicates that your card was declined and so the Spree ride was canceled. Kurt’s name disappears from your phone. You grimace, looking back to him.

“You know what? It just canceled. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’ll get some other people today. No need to worry about it.”

You raise a brow. “Are you sure? I mean I’m sure there’s someone else who needs you right now.”

Oh but I do need you. He thinks.

He gives you a smile and waves your concern away. “Hop in! Don’t worry about it.”

In his head, he thinks this might work, no trail at all. No having to break into your phone and text or call someone about your whereabouts.

You hop in the backseat, finding solace in the silence for a few moments before Kurt turns to talk to you.

“Going deep huh?”

“Sorry?”

“I meant, you know, you were going to Vine and Hollywood. Must know some big people.”

You laugh nervously, most drivers wouldn’t make small talk with you sometimes. But that would stem from you not wanting to talk to them as much. Better to keep at your own business.

“Uh yeah I guess. Even if some of them are assholes sometimes.” You chuckle.

“You know anyone personally? Maybe you could get the word out for me. Have them tag me. My handle’s KurtsWorld96.”

You chuckled to yourself. This was Los Angeles after all, particularly Hollywood. Land of people who want to be a star by any means necessary.

“Yeah sure, I’ll bring it up sometime,” you say, bringing your attention back onto your phone to pass the time.

Before you can get a look into what’s new on your timeline you notice there are cameras everywhere in the car. One facing you, one in the back, two on opposite sides of Kurt and one next to you on the other seat. Oh geez.

Have you landed into a wrong ride share service? Was this a couch situation?

Kurt must’ve noticed your silent panic as he glanced at the mirror and pointed to his cameras.

“For safety.” He assured.

You nod understandingly.

You flip back to your phone, more aware of being filmed. You have to wonder if this footage were to get out if your employers will notice you called them assholes.

Kurt glances at his phone, seeing Bobby comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: This is boring.

BobbyBaseCamp: You have to do something WTF worthy!!

Kurt rolls his eyes. Though, he knew Bobby was right in some way. If he was gonna get anywhere with this live stream and get #TheLesson out there, he’d have to do something bigger than he had planned.

You’d been nothing but pleasant to him so far, and he’d been keeping an eye out on those waters that sat a mere few inches away from you.

His phone pinged with another comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: You should fuck her.

Kurt had to do a double-take. Surely there was no way Bobby had just asked him to make a whole sex tape.

There were other ways to become famous, Kurt thought.

But he was desperate. And Bobby needed content.

It didn’t hurt that you were attractive. And while it would’ve been a shame to kill you to further his agenda, for some reason he had to try to talk himself out of it. Maybe you had a boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t your type. Maybe you’d freak.

Bobby’s insults swirled in his head and in the comment section.

Fuck it.

Kurt swerved into an abandoned parking garage, hidden from view. Either thing he had planned today could work here, he just didn’t know it would be something else entirely.

He gets out of the car, and you finally snap from your phone daze to notice you’re not where you’re supposed to be. If anything you were somewhat still far from work.

Your eyes meet Kurt’s own as he opens the door to your side. You’re visibly confused but nonetheless move backward which lets him lean into the back and close enough to you to hover over.

It doesn’t even register that he’s kissing you until you relax under him, hands coming up to his sweatshirt. You don’t push him away yet, but revel in how he slides in between your legs awkwardly and closes the door behind him.

It had been a while, and while you weren’t complaining, you didn’t really know Kurt all that well.

Pulling back to get some air, you have to ask. “You don’t have like anything right?”

You don’t think he gets it until he responds that he’s never really done this.

One night stands were reserved for nights, right? Not abandoned parking garages in Old Hollywood territory during daylight.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He sighs, pulling back.

You don’t really know what to say. He wasn’t so bad looking. His appearance wasn’t too presenting. His hair wasn’t styled or cut, a little greasy maybe but he seemed sweet at first glance. Albeit a little socially awkward and persistent with his social following.

You answer him by lifting the ends of his sweatshirt up and over his head. He catches your drift and helps you, his tee going right after as your hands come down to his jeans. You pop the buttons, somewhat eager to unzip this complete stranger.

Kurt is faster, his fingers coming up to his mouth to lubricate. It’s the small things he’s trying to remember from porn.

Before you can get his pants down, his left-hand slides over your stomach and down into your own pants. You buck against his hand instantly, the feeling taking you by surprise and earning him a moan. You prop yourself up by your elbows and buck again, feeling his knuckle graze your most sensitive area.

He’s so focused on being able to sell this and you’re so entranced that you don’t notice when his other hand makes quick work under your bra. He squeezes lightly, thumb circling your nub. His other hand just pumping in and out of you painfully slow.

The oh so good feeling has you rolling back onto your back and moving closer to him to get the most out of his slender fingers.

The pornstar worthy moans make him smirk.

“Kurt,” you manage out, guiding him closer in between your legs and trying to get your damn jeans off.

He obliges, pulling your shirt up and over and letting it settle in the passenger seat where his camera was.

He’s quick at pulling your jeans and panties off, letting them fall somewhere in the pile. He dives back into you, legs fully spread, and locking him in. With one hand under the dip of your back and the other grasping onto your thigh roughly, he thrusts himself in, a deep grunt erupting from his chest.

He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck, muttering to himself. The feeling of you being so wet and tight makes his body go out of control. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced.

You whine as he pulls out, your arms coming up to wrap onto his torso and bring him as close as you can manage. It doesn’t feel fair, having you be naked all the way and him just halfway there but it doesn’t matter at this point.

He thrusts back in with abandon. Grunts, moans, and heavy breaths from both of you filling the car. He pulls your left leg up to his waist, angling himself close to where when he thrusts in again and again you clutch and scratch onto his back harder than before.

Your back arches with each hard and rough thrust he gives you, your legs close in on his lower back, trying to get as much of him as you can in you greedily.

He bottoms out, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, the action only intensifying what you were feeling tenfold. His lips leave yours and peck at your neck, collarbone, and breasts.

There was no way he was going to last long now. The feeling of you rocking and bucking to match his thrusts was euphoric and enough to make him come any second.

“Choke me.” You say breathlessly in between thrusts.

“What?” He’s out of breath as well and your request takes him by surprise but he complies and brings the hand that held your thigh to your throat. He presses his fingers down hard.

“Harder.”

Your hand reaches up to grasp his wrist as he grips your throat tighter than before. You smile in content, your eyes closing to revel at the moment.

Somehow the position of being in total control and having the opportunity to put you in some danger stimulated him even more. It fulfilled some primal desire in him.

If he couldn’t kill you, he’d have more fun edging himself.

“Don’t stop, oh god please,” you mewled, on the very cusp of release.

His fingers slipped back down in between your bodies, rubbing at you until you felt your eyes roll back.

Kurt felt close as you clenched around him. His thrusts became sloppy, the sound of skin against skin dying down. He let his head fall again, biting down onto your shoulder somewhat gently as his orgasm wracked through his body. The groan coming from him sent waves through your body and only added to your ecstasy.

But you weren’t done yet, lifting yourself and flipping the both of you over. Once you had him lying where you were, you rode out your high, grinding until you were nearly crying out from the overstimulation. The sight of him lost in pleasure, crying out and brows furrowed was a sight you knew you wouldn’t forget.

Your orgasm leaves you shaking like never before. You collapse on top of him soon after, satisfied. You almost would’ve initiated another round but instead reached for your discarded phone on the floor.

The time nearly made you jump out of the car naked, you were five minutes late.

“Shit!” You jumped, lifting yourself up and letting his cock fall back against his lower belly. “I’m late.”

As though he too was alarmed and more aware of what he just did, he sat up and you both rushed to get your clothes back on. He glanced at his phone, seeing the notifications from Bobby blowing up one after the other.

He might have to ask Bobby not to release this.

“I got it,” Kurt said, returning to the driver’s seat in a second and turning the car back on.

You fixed yourself up again, trying not to look like you just had sweaty spontaneous sex with your driver like some kind of tacky porno. All eyes would be on you.

Kurt drove like a madman and braked hard as he parked right outside the building of where you worked.

You gathered your things and rushed out of the car before turning back to bend to Kurt’s window again. “Do you have a pen?”

Kurt passed you one but instead of writing on paper, you used it to write your name and number on his hand.

Were you really giving this guy your information? He wasn’t such a bad lay, to be honest.

Feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks you smiled, “Maybe you can come over or something.”

Clearly flustered but still appreciative, he smiled back that innocent charming smile.

With that, you headed into work running and trying to come up with an excuse. Completely unaware of what was about to go down that day. Oblivious to the truth about your new crush until you went onto social media later on.

#spree #spree 2020 #kurt kunkle #joe keery #kurt kunkle x reader #joe keery x reader #anyway sorry if this is trash I really needed to vent this lol #smut #idk your consensus here but dc’s streets song really made me think of Kurt

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realcube · 3 years

Photo

'you're..you're wearing that-' he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, 'for me?'

navi | taglist | nsfw part two

summary ➵ on your first date with tamaki, he’s already wondering why you romanticise a guy like himself

content warning ➵ reader wear make-up, a dress and the accessories pictured above, very insecure! tamaki, mild angst & fluff

credit ➵ thank you to @suneater18 for the request and the pics belongs to hippieartesanatos

the moonlight penetrated through the sombre clouds which waved overhead, creating a picturesque night sky for you to admire on your date; as if the heavens were smiling down upon you, congratulating you for scoring such a nice guy.

well, at least, that is what you would’ve thought if your date was sooner to start. currently, you were shuffling on a park bench, fidgeting with your phone as your eyes flickered between the screen and the gorgeous sight above you, anticipating when your date will finally arrive so you can admire it together.

however, twenty minutes had passed since nine o’clock — the time you had both agreed to meet each other at — yet you were still sitting alone, tamaki no where to be seen. what make it even worse was that he was ghosting all your messages and calls.

perhaps it was the first-date jitters speaking but there was a voice lurking in the back of your head, whispering that you have been stood-up. however, you were too ashamed to just get up and leave now, so you figured that you may as well call your friend and ask them to join you.

your eyes burned with tears which you choked back as your fingers worked on their own to search your contacts for your friend’s number. there was a part of you that believed you were being to hasty but you truly couldn’t bare to just sit here and act ‘hopeful’ any longer. with shaky hands, you tapped your friend’s contact as your thumb hovered over the phone icon.

“(y/n)!”

you froze upon hearing your name called from a distance, your immediate reaction being to whip your head around to see who — or what — was in such desperate need of your attention that they were willing to yell your name from half-way across the park.

and of course, it was none other than tamaki amajiki himself; dashing towards you at full-speed in a torn suit, muddy shoes and..his hair seemed to be unevenly cut. he wore a determined yet petrified expression as he came hurdling in your direction, a single stray tentacle dragging behind him as he ran.

a smile of both confusion and relief tugged at your lips, the pads of your fingers dabbing lightly under your eyes to rid of any puffy skin or dampness while simultaneously ensuring that you wouldn’t mess up your lashes or eyeshadow.

“tama! you’re here!” you squealed, your hands automatically clasping together in excitement as he approached the bench, about to fall into the seat beside you due to how tired he was but pausing as he watched you spring to your feet and open your arms for a hug. his lips slowly curled into a weak smile, his expression softening and he didn’t waste a single second before throwing his arms around you, pulling you in for as tight of a hug that his worn biceps would allow him to.

despite the fact he reeked of an ungodly amount of body spray, you still basked his embrace since this is the moment you spent the last three hours or so preparing for. you were quite shocked at how shabby he looked but you decided against questioning it, out of courtesy. but on the bright side, it really made you feel better about the outfit you had spent hours styling, yet you were still not completely sure about.

tamaki suddenly pulled away from the hug so he could fall back onto the bench, letting out a hefty sigh and momentarily zoning out in order to catch his breath. you weren’t too sure whether it was appropriate to giggle or pout at the sight so you chose to not do either and instead, just awkwardly stand and stare at him.

a sharp inhale was all tamaki needed before he was finally able to sit up slightly and bow his head, folding his hands to you before blurting out, “i am so sorry i’m late, (y/n)!” and before you could even get a word in, he began his breathless explanation, “i got a small tear in my shirt and mirio said he’ll fix it but he made it even worse. then nejire said she’ll style my hair but she only knew a few male styles and said my hair was too long and before i could say anything she was chopping away at my hair-- and somehow mirio’s dog got ahold of my suit and it made the tears even worse! i was so stress and y’know when i’m stressed i stress-eat, so i began eating fish snacks and before i even knew what was going on, it was nine o’clock. so i ran here as fast as i could and i tried to manifest tentacles to help me move faster but it turns out i didn’t eat enough fish snacks so i only have one tentacle and i can’t even move it properly- look!”

the fact he said all of that in seemingly one breath left you stunned in place, with you eyes fixated on his rapidly moving lips until they instinctively shifted onto his single tentacle, laying dejected by his feet until it started squirming around. however, that was all it seemed capable of doing — squirming.

“uuh,” you hummed, trying your best to stifle a snicker as tamaki was clearly in genuine destress. “it’s fine, tama! i was a bit worried that you wouldn’t show but it doesn’t matter, you’re here now so let’s focus on that.”

your words somewhat calmed him down as his shoulders visibly relaxed, his red eyes tearing off the concrete ground to meet your kind gaze. a slight gasp escaped his lips as he noticed how gorgeous your make-up was, but before he could utter a compliment, his eyes went further downwards as he tried to process the whole of your outfit.

his cheeks immediately burned red at the sight; your stunning purple dress, shimmering heels and matching crystal accessories which were evidently worn to complement his own aesthetic. a certain piece which he was drawn to, was the golden, gemmed ear cuff you wore with pointed tips to form a similar shape to his own ears — one of his biggest physical insecurities.

“you look..” tamaki mused, momentarily cutting himself off to think of a word that would do you justice, “perfect.” his voice was hushed, hardly above a whisper but you were still able to make out what he said and a sheepish grin crept onto your features.

“thank you, baby!” you chirped, perking up slightly and giving him a little twirl, causing a burst of red to explode on his cheeks which he was quick to try cover with his hands. it was moments like these when he wished that hoodies were first-date appropriate, that way he could just sink back into his hood and pretend he doesn’t exist.

“you look really nice too.” there was nothing wrong with a little white lie every now and again. however, it wasn’t even said with the intent of being a lie as you secretly thought that the scruffiness kinda suited tamaki, like, he looked badass! like your prince charming who accidentally fell into a ditch.

your compliment didn’t help the increasing temperature of tamaki’s cheeks either, causing him to slump farther back in his seat as he muttered garbled speech under his breath. it took a good few seconds but eventually he was able to peer at you with a single eye through the inbetweens of his fingers, “a-and i like your little ear cuff thing.

everything he said only widened your beam and make you feel more giddy, to the point where you were practically bounced in place, “thanks, tama! i saw it and immediately thought of you, so i bought it.” you stifled a squeal at how observant tamaki was being, praising all the small details of your attire which you thought would go unnoticed. “i decided to wear it today because remember how you showed me the tie you bought for our date?” you explained, vaguely gesturing at said tie which hung in tatters around his neck, “yeah, so, i thought we could match.”

it took him a few moments to process what you just said and while his brain was running on overdrive, you were met by his rapid blinking and frozen stature. having known tamaki for a while now, you knew how this was a fairly common occurrence when was truly stunned by something, so you allowed him some time in silence to consolidate.

“so..” he started, trembling hand dropping from his face and onto his lap so you could see his whole bashful appearance. his gaze seemed to be trained on the floor, until he finally looked up to reveal the twinkle in his eyes, “you’re..you’re wearing that-” he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, “for me?”

the thought that you were ashamed to be with him was something that constantly taunted him from the back of this mind. you were heavenly in a way that his words simply could not describe, though that didn’t stop him from trying. it was beyond him how a person as divine as yourself would even give him the time of day; let alone insist that he was beautiful, leave encouraging notes in his locker, comfort him when he shows even the smallest sign of being upset, give him praise on all the thing he was insecure about and so much more.

when he looked in the mirror, he did not see what you see. he viewed his ears as creepy and not a feature he should put on display, hence a part of the many reasons why he’s so fond of his hood. but here you were, all dolled up in his favourite colour just to showcase that you were with him. your ears decorated with pretty cuffs that made them look a similar shape to his, at first glance.

when he’d walk beside you through the corridors of the school or under the shade of the trees in the park, he’d feel the eyes of jealous passersby burn holes through his skin; despite the fact you weren’t even dating him yet, people just hated seeing a guy like himself by your side, apparently.

he stopped eating before meeting up with you so he wouldn’t have any weird manifestation that could draw attention to himself. he started wearing his hood up at all times so people wouldn’t judge him for his elven ears. he refused to touch you just in case people thought you were dating and became envious of him, which would quickly turn to hatred.

so why would you want to look like him? why would you want people to know that you are on a date with him? why did you act proud to be with him?

you quirked a brow at how confounded he sounded, thinking over your answer with a hum; you wore this outfit for tamaki and yourself because you thought it was pretty and it suited you. however, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was no need to give tamaki the full truth right now so instead you allowed him to enjoy his rare surge of confidence by replying with simply, “yeah, for you.”

you weren’t going to be surprised that he was flattered, by now you were well aware that tamaki held all your opinions on him in high esteem so that’s why you always tried to be as nice to him as possible — that, and it was just in your nature to be kind towards him when he’s been nothing but respectful to you back.

however, what you didn’t expect was to hear faint sobs from behind his hands and watch as crystalline tears poured escaped from the inbetweens of his fingers, racing down the back of his hands. “tamaki..” you murmured, reluctantly taking a seat next to him to wrap your arms around, rubbing comforting circles in his shoulders like you usually did when he was sad. although, you weren’t even completely sure that he was disheartened by your statement.

“i’m sorry.” you spoke in a hushed voice, leaning in close to his neck until your nose brushed against his skin, resulting in him tilting his head so it rested upon yours. “are you okay?”

“please don’t apologise.” he croaked, stifling his snivels to try show that he wasn’t upset. “you did nothing wrong. in fact, you’ve done everything right. i’m the one who’s been messing up.” he felt your hand ghost over his own and without a second thought, he intertwined his finger with your own, freeing his other palm to place it on your shoulder and exposing his pale, tear-stained face is the process.

“i know it’s hard but you should tell me what’s on your mind, tamaki.” you hummed, gently caressing the back of his hand with your thumb and planting a kiss on the damp skin of his cheek. his cologne was still suffocating strong but if you were to die, it would ideally be while cuddled up to him, under the celestial night sky.

opening up had never been an easy task for tamaki; especially about a subject that concerned his physical appearance and emotions. but there was a knot in his chest that would simply come undone when he was with you. he couldn’t explain it, but all the barriers and walls he had established to avoid getting his feeling hurt or heart broken would come crashing down whenever he was with you. perhaps it was a familiarity, maybe it was your reassuring presence or might just be pure love and adoration.

either way, he found him himself babbling on about anything and everything that bothered him with little regard for his own pride or secrecy, he voiced every thought that came to his mind in the moment. he told you just about it all — all his problems and insecurities —and you listened, offering him encouragement whenever he’d cut himself off, saying something along the lines of, ‘i-i’ll stop now, i sound silly’ or ‘you’re probably tired of hearing me prattle on’. though, of course you didn’t want him to stop until he had gotten everything off his chest as it was a rare sight for him to talk for such lengths at a time so the last thing you wanted to do was discourage him.

“i just..” tamaki stammered, coming to the end of his passionate ramble, “don’t understand why you want to be seen with me, let alone wear those.” he raised his shaky hand from your shoulder to gesture to your ear cuffs, “don’t get me wrong, they look cute on you, but i just don’t get why you’d want to have ears that look like mine.”

“because yours are beautiful!”

he winced at the compliment and at how sincere you sounded, “well, i’m glad you think that, (y/n).” he muttered, not even having to finish his statement as the dejection in his voice made it obvious that he did not view himself in the same light. his gaze dropped to his feet which were shuffling uncontrollably, “i don’t know why i’m making such i big deal about this. aren’t you annoyed?”

your let go of his hands only to slip them around his neck and pull him into your embrace, you felt him tense up in your arms but slowly allow himself to relax his cheek onto your shoulder. “i’m not annoyed, baby. i get what you mean and it’s horrible that you feel that way.” all tamaki could do would tick his tongue in agreement.

“i know i tell you this all the time but i honestly think you’re so attractive, inside and out. i was so excited when you agreed to date me, i could’ve died of happiness on the spot!” you chirped, momentarily jerked your head backwards so you could peck the tip of his nose, giggling as he scrunched his face up cutely at the sudden touch.

your angelic laugh rung through tamaki’s head, forcing his lips into a smile as he gawked at your adorable action. “i love you..” tamaki uttered, raising his voice ever so slightly to ensure that you heard what he said, “so much.” thanks to you, his sobs were now just mere sniffles into the crook of your neck.

you inhaled sharply, eyes-widening at his words; you would’ve never thought he would be the first on to say ‘i love you’, but you were far from disappointed, in fact you felt yourself melting further into his touch.

you felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing slowly retuning to it’s regular pace as he squeezed his eyes shut, cancelling out all his other senses so he could focus on the way your body felt against his own.

he wanted to be confident. he wanted to take pride in himself for you. he was tired of restless nights filled with tears due to his worries berating him for simply existing in your presence.

it wasn’t going to be easy but he needed to start acting on everything you said. because eventually, it wouldn’t just be for you, it’d be for himself.

and of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by you when he started wearing his hood less often, when he began holding his head up higher as he walks by your side, the way he now shoots warm smiles at people who try to glare at him.

and five years later, how he didn’t bat an eye at deadly glare that the waiter — that had been subtly flirting with you all night — shot at him as he got down on one knee, in front of the whole restaurant.

#amajiki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #amajiki fluff #amajiki x y/n #bnha x y/n #amajiki tamaki x reader #bnha tamaki #mha tamaki #bnha x you #bnha fluff #tamaki fluff #tamaki x you #tamaki x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #mha fluff #tamaki amajiki #mha amajiki #amajiki x you

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

Hey y'all, as Pride month draws to a close I would like to post this fic. It's been in my drafts for a month and I finally today found the motivation to finish it. This is special to me for many reasons, one of which being that I'm proudly a part of this community. Some of the anger written in is my own. I think a lot of people will resonate with it. I really hope you all enjoy this and happy Pride Month <3

This was based loosely off a headcannon and once I re-find it I will credit!

Synopsis: Steve is freshly thawed, queer, and pissed | A.k.a. Steve's experience in 21st Century America

Characters: Steve Rogers, Mentions of Bucky Barnes, (loosely a Stucky fic but Steve thinks he's dead here)

Warnings: Angst but not bad, Steve Rogers being volatile and chaotic (we love), poorly written accents (I literally read this with an accent in my head), literally a 2k monologue

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

No— not angry— Steve Rogers came out of the ice fuckin’ furious.

He came out of the ice with his hands curled into two fists, with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were liable to snap, and with a bone to pick with every damn reporter and historian and too loud opinion on this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He came out simmering— no, erupting— like the serum in his blood couldn’t keep his body from hibernation all those years ago but it sure as hell won’t keep him from setting the entirety of New York on fire now. He’ll burn it all down if he has to and rebuild it the way he remembers it— the way Bucky would have remembered it— and at the end of it all no one— not the bigots or deniers or the homophobes that seem to be the only thing that came with him from the forties— will be able to say that Captain America can’t love whoever he wants.

No one will be able to say that Steve Rogers didn’t love James “Bucky” “the man I’ve loved since twelve years old” Barnes with everything he had and then some.

No one.

So he starts with the museums in Washington— because sure it isn’t New York but where else would a relic like himself belong more?

He still has hope when he enters the building. They didn’t make them like this when he was a kid— they had science fairs in the town hall and culture fairs in the backstreets near the docks but never anything this grand. No tall marble pillars or enough stairs to make him wonder if he would have been able to climb to the top when he was half the size he is now. It’s strange. It’s kind of wonderful. Yeah, the Smithsonian museums make Steve Rogers feel small for the first time in a very long time and that gives him hope.

That hope doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s wandering through the halls, following the signs that say Captain America: The First Avenger— what the hell is an Avenger? Is that what they’re calling soldiers these days? Now he feels small and old.

Turning the corner is like landing on another planet, one devoted entirely to him. His picture is everywhere he looks, his name is in lights, even his damn uniform has been replicated and presented on a little stage and he hates it. The rage is back, sparking at his fingers— he’s a match and lucky for everyone this building is made of stone because if it wasn’t he’s sure it would be reduced to nothing but ash by now.

It only worsens as he begins reading through the plaques and the paragraphs flashing across screens on the walls— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. The more he reads, though, the more he wonders if the stone is really, truly safe from the fire in his blood. He doesn’t think it is.

He surely isn’t at least— he feels like he’s going to explode. This isn’t him— none of this is him. War hero. Martyr. Golden boy. He has to stop reading that plaque— clearly no one did their research. Clearly no one dug up his medical files— or his police records. Brawls at the pub, disorderly conduct behind Mr. De Luca’s sandwich shop, public nudity at the beach that one time— thank you Bucky for the best night of his god damn life. Golden boy— ha.

Golden nobody with the black eye and broken hand is more like it.

For a moment he thinks he’s fine— he thinks it can’t get worse than this. Then he gets to the early life section and for an even longer moment his tongue tastes like gunpowder.

Steven Grant Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his friend James Buchanan Barnes—

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence— not when they already got the most important part wrong. Friend. Friend? No, no, no. No! There are a million words in the english language that Steve could use to describe Bucky and ‘friend’ will never be the first one.

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

How about soulmate who loved Steve so much that every night for the past forty-eight days since he woke up in an era that Bucky doesn’t exist in he’s cried himself to sleep with the same cherry cola taste of his ‘friend’ on his tongue.

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

The museum is quiet before he speaks but when his voice— steadily rising and taking on that New York headiness that his troops used to jazz him about— cuts through the exhibit— his fuckin’ exhibit— it’s silent. It’s dead, almost as dead as Buck— Nobody dares move a muscle as he rips his ball cap off his head and throws it at the statue of himself. Everyone knows who he is— everyone is going to know who he is so help him god.

“I said—” he tries again— “does anyone have a marker?”

It takes a moment for the people around him to pick their jaws up off the floor and he allows them that moment with a smug grin starting to tug on the corners of his lips. Finally— they’re starting to get it.

He’s not a hero; he’s a supernova of every scrawny, queer kid who’s ever gotten beaten to a pulp for kissing who they want.

Maybe then it’s fitting that the marker— when it’s finally produced and placed in his waiting palm— comes from a teenage girl with a shaved head and a blue, pink, and purple denim jacket and a busted lip. She doesn’t say much— only a mumbled here you go— but her eyes say everything that her words don’t. Give em’ hell, Cap. For the first time since waking up he flashes a genuine grin back— yeah, this one’s for you kid.

Steve wastes no time uncapping the sharpie— he’ll look that one up later— and scratching out the error. The blasphemy to his unholy name. It takes him a little longer to decide what to write in its place. There are a million words, sure, but somehow none of them feel right at this moment. None of them are enough. That’s something he’ll have to come to terms with later, though— how much nothing feels like enough anymore without Bucky.

Finally Steve settles on a word and he scribbles it as neatly as he can given the fact that he hasn’t had to write anything in eighty years. When he takes a step back, feeling alive for the first time since waking up, he beckons over the girl with the shaved head and points to the place where he’s taken it upon himself to correct history.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go ahead and read that outloud for everyone here.”

He allows another moment— this time because she deserves the time it takes for her eyes to light up and the smile to stretch across her bruised mouth.

Steve laughs— a rusted, croaky laugh; another first in forever— when her head whips around, facing him as she loudly proclaims: “It says boyfriend. Steve Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his boyfriend Bucky Barnes!”

“Damn right I did—” he mutters to the kid before taking a step towards the crowd of gaping mouths. “Did you all hear that? Don’t worry if ya’ didn’t— I’ll say it one more time. Boyfriend. Bucky was my boyfriend and if he was here today he would be my husband. If any of you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with me. I took on half of Brooklyn for that man and I’ll do it again.”

When no one says anything Steve nods, turning to hand the girl back her marker and to thank her— he may be angry but he hasn’t lost all his manners— but when he looks at her she doesn’t look back. Instead she takes the same step forward that he had, one of her hands balled into a tiny, shaking fist at her side and the other wrapped around a cell phone that’s pointed towards the crowd. He doesn’t understand the mechanics but he thinks she’s recording.

“You hear that?” She parrots the super soldier with a wavering but fierce voice. “Captain America likes men! And none of you can deny it!”

This time it’s his mouth that drops, watching as she shakily turns the camera off and spins back around. Before Steve can say anything, though, she’s talking again, this time hastier, and he can’t help but think that she sounds so much like him. All flushed and scrawny and pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll delete the recording if you want but, I jus’ know these bigots are gonna’ try and cover everything up and that would be a fuckin’ shame. I don’t know if you know how many kids need to hear this. I did— and I think they should too. Only if you want, of course.”

He doesn’t answer right away— he can’t. It’s like looking at himself at fifteen. Suddenly he’s back again, his feet hanging in the water as his boyfriend paces behind him, asking if he’s ready to have him look at his knuckles yet. He didn’t get that many good punches in— the scrapes are mostly from the pavement— but Buck always worries too much so it doesn’t matter. The protective idiot.

Steve shakes his head, blinking away the sunset lingering behind his eyes. “Bucky woulda’ loved you, kid.”

The next time he loses it— the next time he turns into more flame than man— is after he saves the city he’s been trying to burn down for three months.

It isn’t long after that day in the museum when Nick Fury decides it would be best for everyone if Steve goes back into the field. Of course, no one really asks him what he wants— they pretty much just shove a new suit into his hands and tell him to get training, Captain— but what else is new?

No one really comments on his outburst besides that either. Can you really call it an outburst when you’re just trying to reclaim the parts of you that have been stolen? Sure, the press gets a hold of the story and, true to what the kid had said, tries to twist it into something more digestible, but no one actually addresses it up with Steve. Apparently when someone saves the world as good as he does no one cares that they kiss men.

Or that they don’t wanna’ to actually save the world anymore.

See, in those three months— between the training and training and even more training that Steve Rogers begrudgingly obliges— he has time to catch up on the world. More importantly, he has time to catch up on what the world thinks of him. He scours a plethora of documentaries, scholarly essays, and whole books of information about his time as Captain America. Well— his time as Captain America when it mattered. In all his scouring he learns one thing: everything written about him is wrong.

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

Just why the hell would he want to save a world so bent on destroying who he is?

The Smithsonian exhibition was nothing compared to what’s been written in the eighty years he spent in the ice. Better yet, nothing compared to what hasn’t been written about him. They’ve taken an eraser to every part of his life that doesn’t fit with the golden image that they constructed for him. A.k.a. every part that matters. His relationship, his past, every little thing that made him supposedly perfect for the role he was given. Gone. Erskine told him he was a good man— apparently he was the only one who thought so.

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

They only wanted the perfect soldier. Yeah, well, they had one and they fucked him over too. Don’t even get him started on what they did to Bucky— Steve doesn’t want to think about what Winnifred— Winnie for short— Barnes would do if she saw the history books erasing her baby’s Jewish roots. Or his relationship. It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for damn sure. If ever there was someone more protective than Bucky it would have been his mother. Not that there’s a damn note about her in anything either though.

Maybe that’s the final straw that does him in this time— watching the place that Mrs. Barnes loved more than almost anything else in the world crumble, while also knowing that the world no longer gives a shit about the two people she loved more.

“Mr. Rogers, this is where you grew up, is it not? Is there anything you would like to say about what took place here in your home city today?”

Maybe he pretends not to hear the last part— maybe he really does only hear up until where the reporter asks him if there is anything he wants to say. He’s been around quite his fair share of explosions; it would make sense that his hearing is a little off. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, though.

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

And why the fuck should he? He does have something to say and propriety be damned he’s going to say it.

Steve stares into the crowd of faceless reporters and flashing cameras with a scowl on his grimey face. Around him stand the other Avengers— his ‘team’. The last time he had a team the historians screwed up the history for every single member. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier, Sawyer, Juniper, Pinkerton. Barnes. All of them were brave men with families and sacrifices and all of them were treated like jokes by ‘reporters’ just like the ones in front of him now. He really doubts there’s a difference between old and new journalism.

The only difference is that now he’s here and this time he’s not going to let them write anything but the damn truth.

“It is—” Steve muses, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead— “I’m surprised you know that though.”

The reporter cocks his head, clearly confused, and it makes the super soldier’s blood boil. “Come again, sir?”

“I said I’m surprised you know where I was born, kid.” This time when he says the word— kid— it’s derogatory. “Ya’ know, considering how you all seem to know nothing about me otherwise.”

Steve almost smiles at the way the crowd tenses. He actually would if it weren’t for the white hot rage coursing through his veins, mingling with the last of the adrenaline leftover in his system. It gives him an extra kick— not that he needs it. Even when he was just a runt from the wrong side of the tracks he needed nothing more than an offhand comment to raise his fists. Fighting to Steve Rogers has always been intoxicating— the aftershocks of winning the battle just makes it more thrilling now.

Who knew, right?

“Sir I asked—” The reporter sputters and Steve simply holds a hand up, silencing him before he can start again.

“Yeah I know what you asked, alright. You want me to talk about the battle here in New York today and how I am more than happy to have risked my life to save it. But I can’t do that, kid. Because I didn’t save it for you. I didn’t save it for any of you.”

Steve feels his team tense— maybe were it any other time he would stop talking. He would just leave it, let the issue go, because Bucky would tell him too. They aren’t worth it, bruiser, he would say, they aren’t worth your blood. Maybe he would listen to his boyfriend because usually he was right. Bucky was always right. So yeah, maybe he would list—

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Stucky #steve x bucky #Queer!steve rogers #Queer!Steve #Queer!Bucky #Queer!Bucky Barnes #Captain America #pride month #Steve angst #steve fluff #Marvel cinematic universe #Mcu #mcu fic #steve fic

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Anonymous requested: “tricked into 7 minutes in heaven at a party” AU with willex, where theyre close friends and apart of the same friend group, and their friends know they both like each other and are tired of watching them dance around each other so they devise a plan to have a party and play seven minutes in heaven, and get them to be alone together in a closet or room or something. so a sort of getting together/modern AU with some kissing cause the boys deserve it?

I had to Google what 7 Minutes In Heaven is. Anyway!! I love this prompt so much, it’s so so sweet. We love some getting together fluff. Thank you so much for suggesting it!

Title from Alone by Heart.

The Secret Is Still My Own

Alex could have kicked himself for not realising what this was much earlier. It was probably Luke’s idea. Maybe Julie’s – she could be sneaky when she wanted to be. It didn’t really matter who had devised the plan, all that Alex was worried about now was the fact that he was about to spend seven minutes locked in a small room with Willie and the likelihood was that it was going to be utterly dreadful.

A few months ago when Alex and Willie had first met, it wouldn’t have been so awful. Their friendship had been fresh and exciting and there had been an easy banter flowing between the two of them that made Alex feel light and giddy. He had been glad to spend time with Willie then, looking for every excuse to hang out with him because who wouldn’t? Willie was funny, kind, intelligent, and everything good in the world. Alex would have been mad to not want to spend time with him. It didn’t take long for Alex to realise he was falling for Willie, quickly and with no signs of stopping.

And he made the grave mistake of telling that to Luke.

“Dude,” Luke had said, grabbing Alex’s shoulders. “You gotta ask him out!”

“What? No!” Alex had protested. He tried to wriggle free but Luke’s grip was like iron and he gave up after a moment or two. “I don’t want to. I like being friends with him.”

“Yeah, but imagine if you were more than friends,” Luke pressed, grinning wildly. “It’s not like he’d say no – he’s head over heels for you, man.”

“He is?”

“I think so.”

“That’s not proof,” Alex deadpanned. “You also thought that if you ate watermelon seeds one would grow inside you. Then you cried when Reggie ate them.”

“That was ages ago!” Luke whined.

“It was last week, but alright.”

“Alright, fine, I’m a bad example,” Luke admitted. “But what if I told you that Julie thinks Willie likes you?”

Alex considered it for a moment. Julie was definitely more reliable than Luke, and where Luke was almost definitely guessing about whether or not Willie had feelings for Alex, Julie had probably spoken to Willie herself to find out. So he shrugged and gave Luke a short nod.

“Does she think so?” he asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

“Dude,” Luke scoffed. “She was the one to point it out to me. You and Willie are made for each other, bro! Ask him out or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Alex hadn’t asked Willie out. It hadn’t been because he didn’t want to or because he didn’t think Luke and Julie were right – it was because he simply didn’t know how. How was he supposed to go up to Willie, a literal angel, and ask him on a date without spontaneously combusting? He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, not in front of Willie.

He had thought that Luke was joking about getting Alex and Willie together himself. That had, of course, been an incredibly naïve thing to believe. When Luke said he’d do something, he meant it – Alex should have learnt that from the time Luke had said he would lick an electric fence and then followed through immediately and without hesitation. So really he shouldn’t have been surprised when Luke made it his mission to get Alex and Willie together.

The first time it had happened was when Alex and Willie were hanging out alone in the studio. They had been talking, just catching up with each other, and it had been nice. Willie had been halfway through a story about one of the kids at the nursery he worked part-time at when all of a sudden the lights in the studio had dimmed and slow, romantic music had begun drifting from the stereo in the corner.

Willie had looked utterly bemused, a quiet half-smile gracing his features. “What’s all this?”

“I don’t know,” Alex told him, standing up and flicking the lights back on, then going to the stereo and turning the music down all the way. “Sorry about that. It’s never happened before.”

“You mean you didn’t set it up?” Willie asked.

“No,” Alex replied, looking around the studio. Unsurprisingly, he had spotted Luke in the attic, hidden amongst the beanbags, the stereo’s remote in his hands. He didn’t even have the good grace to look guilty, instead giving Alex a cheery wave.

“Oh,” Willie had said. His tone made Alex turn to face him – there was something in it he couldn’t quite put a name to. “Okay. Anyway, so, as I was saying…”

Luke’s plans had not improved from then on. He had pulled the classic “invite both of them to hang out but don’t show up so they’re just spending time together one-on-one”, he had dedicated an entire setlist to Willie at their most recent gig and told the entire crowd that it had been Alex’s idea, and every time Alex and Willie had a conversation he would find a way to muscle in and very unsubtly suggest they go on a date.

It was making Alex’s life a misery.

Because now every time he saw Willie felt painstakingly awkward. The both of them were just waiting for Luke to show up and do whatever he’d planned, after which they’d be steeped in brittle, tense silence until one of them found an excuse to back out of the situation. The ease and light-heartedness their friendship had once been built on was pretty much shot to pieces. Alex knew that Luke meant well, but he was almost certain that he had ruined everything.

It didn’t help that Luke had got Julie, Reggie, and Flynn in on it too, though they were much less heavy-handed than he was when it came to getting them together. Reggie’s main tactic was ask if they’d been on a date yet every time he saw them but leave it alone once they said no, while Julie and Flynn tended to talk to Alex away from Willie and try and convince him that they were, in Flynn’s words, a match made in heaven.

“He totally wants you to ask him out,” Flynn gushed on one of these occasions. “Did you see the way he was looking at you earlier? He’s in love.”

“Things are awkward enough between us as it is,” Alex had explained. “I’m not going to make it worse by asking him out.”

“Well, maybe you don’t need to ask him on a date,” Julie suggested, ever the voice of reason. Alex inwardly thanked her – at least somebody was on his side. “But I do think you need to at least talk about what’s going on between you.”

He revoked his inward thank-you.

“We don’t need to talk,” Alex insisted. “If we just leave it alone then the problem will eventually go away.”

“That’s always your solution,” Julie said.

“And it never works,” Flynn added.

“If you just face your feelings head-on and actually try communicating with him you might get somewhere,” Julie said. Alex looked at her and knew she was telling the truth – her eyes were wide and kind, her mouth set into a gentle smile, and she looked as if she wanted nothing more than to help Alex. “You’ve been dancing around each other for so long, all you need to do is figure out where you both are. Trust me.”

He had shrugged inelegantly and let Flynn change the direction of the conversation, grateful to be talking about something else.

But he hadn’t taken Julie’s advice. Talking to Willie was difficult. Their banter was all but gone and their conversations lasted no more than a few minutes at most. It was a lot easier when they were with all their friends, in a big group where they could talk to others, which had been exactly the reason that Alex wasn’t worried about the impromptu party Julie had invited everyone to that night.

And look where it had got him.

It had been Luke who suggested it during a lull in conversation.

“Why don’t we play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

The suggestion had been met with excited ‘ooooh’s from most of the group sat around the studio, all except Alex. The last time he’d played Seven Minutes in Heaven had been in middle school – he had been locked in a closet with a girl in his class, she had kissed him incredibly awkwardly, he had blurted “I’m too gay for this” and fallen ungracefully out of the closet with six minutes still left on the clock. While that had been years and years ago, the memory still burned with embarrassment.

“Count me out,” he said. “That game is cursed.”

“I think you’re thinking of Bloody Mary in the Mirror,” Reggie supplied. “That game is cursed. This one’s just a bit of fun.”

“Absolutely not,” Alex said, shaking his head. “You guys can play, I’m staying out of it.”

“Oh, come on, Alex,” whined Luke, “everyone has to play! Otherwise it’s no fun.”

“You might not even get picked,” Julie said helpfully.

“But also you might,” Luke added.

Alex looked around the room at his friends – Reggie was smiling encouragingly, Luke looked put-out that Alex had even thought about refusing, Julie and Flynn were looking at him with hope and excitement in their eyes that he really didn’t want to crush, and Willie… Willie was avoiding eye contact altogether.

He didn’t know what it was that did it, but finally he relented. “I’ll play.”

Luke punched the air triumphantly and began entering everyone’s names into a generator he’d brought up on his phone. Alex watched with bated breath as the little wheel spun, slowing down until it landed on a name. The screen lit up with an over-the-top fireworks animation and the name ‘WILLIE’ in garish bubble writing.

Alex didn’t look at Willie, but he did feel his own insides squirm. What if he was picked next? He wasn’t sure he could last seven minutes alone with Willie. What was he supposed to talk about? What was he supposed to do? How was he meant to act like it wasn’t the most awkward thing he’d ever done especially after everything that had happened in the past few months?

Luke set the spinner off again and Alex watched nervously as it ticked through all the names. The firework animation lit up the screen again and when it was cleared the name ‘ALEX’ was left behind, glowing in all its bubble writing glory.

He tried not to sigh in defeat and he stayed put, no matter how much he wanted to leg it from the room and never come back.

“Alright then!” Julie said, clapping her hands and beaming. “Alex and Willie! You guys feeling up for this?”

Alex didn’t have an answer, but it appeared that Willie did. He stood up and offered a hand to pull Alex to his feet too, smiling gently.

“I’m ready,” he said, though Alex didn’t miss the waver in his voice. “How about you, hotdog?”

He could feel his friends’ eyes boring into him like lasers, but kept his own eyes trained on Willie, searching his expression with no idea what he was actually searching for. Eventually though, he gave a resolute nod and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

“You can go into the bathroom,” Julie said, pointing towards the little room at the back of the studio. “You’ll have to lock the door yourselves.”

Alex nodded and mutely followed Willie into the bathroom. He shut and locked the door behind them, then flicked the light-switch on. Immediately, Willie flicked it back off.

“Why can’t we have the lights on?” he asked. “I can’t see you.”

“Those are the rules, hotdog,” Willie returned. His voice sounded like it was coming from the opposite side of the room, but Alex couldn’t be sure. After all, he couldn’t see anything.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he slid himself down the wall to sit on the floor. He had no reason to feel so nervous right then; he’d been alone with Willie a thousand times, this didn’t have to be any different just because it was in a small dark room and they had a time limit ticking over their heads. Admittedly, he hadn’t been alone with Willie all that often recently, but he shouldn’t have been too out of practise.

“So,” he ventured, rubbing his hands along his legs, hoping the repetitive movements would dull his nerves. “What do you want to talk about?”

Willie was silent for a moment and Alex was sure that he’d somehow already put a foot wrong. Briefly, he considered unlocking the door and trying to leave very quietly so that Willie wouldn’t notice, but he realised quickly that plan wouldn’t work because he would never get past his friends in the studio. All he could do was stick it out for six and a half more minutes.

But mercifully, Willie finally spoke.

“Things have been weird recently, huh, hotdog?”

It teased a laugh from Alex, if only a small one. Because yes. Yes, things had been incredibly weird and he hated it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “it’s been weird. I’m sorry about Luke and the others.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Willie said. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and found himself relaxing. “It doesn’t really bother me. But… I mean, it seemed like it was bothering you. I’ve been trying to give you a little space but I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

“No,” Alex said, far too quickly. He tried to rein himself in a little, not wanting things to descend back into that dangerous awkward territory. “No, I don’t want you to give me space. I really like hanging out with you, Willie. I don’t want to stop that. I just wish they’d stop teasing.”

There was another pause, smaller this time, barely perceptible.

“Why?” Willie asked quietly.

“Because,” Alex began, but he quickly found himself lost for words.

How was he supposed to explain it to Willie when he found it hard to explain it to himself? He didn’t like their teasing because he was scared. He didn’t like their teasing because he didn’t want to make Willie uncomfortable. He didn’t like their teasing because this thing, whatever it was, between him and Willie was theirs and only theirs and he wanted to keep it between that way. Because he wanted to make these decisions on his terms, not when his friends decided he should.

“Because?” Willie prompted.

Alex swallowed his pride and his nerves and made himself speak.

“Because I really like you, Willie. And when our friends try and find ways to get us together it just feels awful because I want to do it myself. I don’t want them to intervene or mess this up. I want to do it my way. They keep saying that you like me too – is that true?”

Silence again. Alex could hardly stand it.

“Yeah,” Willie said finally. With that single word Alex felt like he could breathe more easily than ever before. “I do. Like you, I mean. And I get it. I’m sorry this whole thing has been such a mess.”

Alex huffed a laugh. “Blame Luke.”

“Oh, I will,” Willie replied through a chuckle.

Alex heard him shuffle across the bathroom floor and felt their sides press together as Willie came to sit next to him. Without thinking he laid his head down on Willie’s shoulder, then felt Willie rest his head on his in return.

“So,” Alex said again. “What does this mean for us?”

“What do you want it to mean?” Willie asked teasingly, the smile on his face evident in his voice.

“Are we dating?” he asked. He could feel his own smile tugging at his lips as Willie slipped an arm around his shoulders.

He felt Willie press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “Yes, Alex. We’re dating.”

Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the dark room, maybe it was the rush of adrenaline he got from hearing Willie day the words “we’re dating”, but something gave him a warm and welcome rush of courage and he said, before he could think better of it, “Can I kiss you?”

“Well,” Willie said, “I think that’s what usually happens in this game.”

“I don’t want to kiss you because of the game,” Alex told him. He knew Willie was probably joking, but he wanted to be certain. He wanted to make it clear that none of this was because of the game (mainly because Luke had probably rigged it somehow and Alex still wanted to do this his own way). He needed to show that this was for Willie and for himself, nothing else.

“I know,” Willie said gently. “I don’t either. I just want to kiss you.”

Alex slid a hand up to cup Willie’s jaw and they slowly came together. Willie’s lips were softer than Alex thought should be allowed, the kiss gentle and slow. It felt perfect, like fireworks had been lit in Alex’s soul (though much better fireworks than the terrible animation on Luke’s random selector wheel). He felt Willie’s fingers knot through his hair and pull them closer together.

It hadn’t gone the way Alex would have really liked. He didn’t get to ask Willie out on his terms. But from now on, with Willie as his boyfriend, they could do everything else on their terms. They could go at their own speed, hand-in-hand, with no ticking time limit set by their friends. They could move at their own pace with nobody but each other.

And Alex could breathe easy.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @teammightypen @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 3 years

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alone together

summary: you can’t make it home for Christmas, but neither can Elias, and suddenly you aren’t too upset about it anymore.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, drinking

word count: 2.1k

tagging: @bqstqnbruin @laurenairay @calgarycanuck @sorryjustafangirl @tayella13 @wastedheartcth @kiedhara @writinghockey @unfoundtreasure @nolanscheeks @hockeyallthetime

masterpost of my christmas fics

The holidays were supposed to be spent with family. And you had planned to do just that—except, the entirety of your family had planned vacations without you. For a week and a half you moped around about your ruined holiday plans. You would be alone, in Vancouver, while all of your friends were back home. You thought you’d be all alone, except—

“I’m staying in Vancouver for Christmas, too.”

Apparently, not all of your friends would be gone. Though, Elias wasn’t quite just your friend. With him, it always felt like there was just something under the surface between you and him. You were friends with Brock and Quinn too, but your heart didn’t race the same way it did when you were with Elias.

“You should stay at my place.”

“What?” The suggestion caught you off guard. Elias said it so casually, like he wasn’t offering to house you for the holidays. He grinned at you from over the top of his takeout container, your brows tugged together in confusion.

“Come stay with me, I know you’re just going to be here alone.” He explained with a shrug. You thought about your other options, not that you had many, and quickly realized that staying with Elias was much better than spending the holidays alone.

Really, what could go wrong with spending the holiday with the guy you were half in love with.

You showed up two days before Christmas, duffel bag in hand and smile on your face. The first night was quiet, a movie and takeout before you each parted ways to sleep. It was strange, at first, to be staying in his guest room when you could have just as easily been in your own apartment across town.

You realized you could quickly get used to his presence when you woke up the next morning and found he was already in the kitchen, cooking breakfast as if he was a regular chef and not someone who had nearly the entirety of his meals made for him.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” You chimed, taking a seat at the kitchen table to watch him cook. Scrambled eggs weren’t a hard dish to make, and you knew Elias was a bit more competent than some of his teammates, but the supervision wouldn’t hurt, and you couldn’t exactly pass up the opportunity to pretend for just a moment that the domestic moment was much more than it really was.

“Merry Christmas Eve, to you too.” Elias grinned at you over his shoulder, allowing you to get a look at his messy bedhead and sleepy smile. You would have sworn your heart skipped three beats at the sight, and with a grin of your own you propped your head up and admired him as he worked.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, filled with Christmas movies and games, and after hours of fun with Elias you slipped into the guest room to FaceTime your family. You battled the teasing from them that you were staying with a boy, and denied vehemently that there was anything going on between the two of you. By the time you got off the phone with them, it was nearing dinnetime, so you wandered into the kitchen in search of either Elias or at the very least a snack.

“What’s all this?”

You weren’t sure you had ever actually seen Elias cook anything more than the basics, but when you walked into the kitchen you were met with various pots and pans scattered across the counters. Once more, Elias was standing at the stove as he cooked, and you decided that you really could get used to the view.

“Christmas Eve dinner.” He said casually. In all honesty, you hadn’t thought about what you would be doing for dinner, since nearly every meal you had ever had with Elias was over a takeout container or at some restaurant he insisted on trying.

“You’re cooking breakfast and dinner? What did I do to deserve this?” You teased, moving to stand at his side and watch him stir. Elias shot you a grin, the playful one that only came out when he was in the company of people he knew well and loved.

“If you play your cards right, I’ll even make you pancakes tomorrow, too.” He said slyly, a teasing lilt to his tone that had you chuckling to yourself. “Grab some wine?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” You grinned, slipping away from your post at his side to search for the bottle of wine you had brought as a gift for him letting you stay with him. Grabbing two glasses, you perched yourself on the counter. Luckily, the bottle had already been broken into, so you were able to get the cork out with ease before pouring a generous amount into each glass.

“Cheers.” The corners of Elias’ lips curved upwards as he clinked his glass against yours. You matched his smile as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. You watched as he turned back to stirring the sauce, an action that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

One glass of wine turned into a bottle shared between the two of you on the couch while a variety of Christmas and action movies played on the television. Eventually you drifted into sleep in your spot, tucked into Elias’ side while listening to him mumble about the movie on the screen you hadn’t even attempted to pay attention to.

The next morning, Christmas morning, you woke up in an unfamiliar and not-totally comfortable position. But as uncomfortable as you were, you knew Elias must have been worse, because he was lying on his back on the couch while you were half on top of him and half tucked between him and the back of the couch.

“Good morning.” Elias mumbled, drawing your attention to him. You rested your chin on your arm as you looked up at him, blinking tiredly as a sleepy smile made its way onto your face as you admired him.

“Good morning.” You repeated his sentiment, smile only widening when you felt Elias’ hand start to drag up and down your back soothingly. “Sorry I fell asleep on you.”

“I don’t mind.” He said seriously, though the corners of his lips were quirked up in a tiny smile that had you reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair off of his forehead before you really knew what you were doing. He smiled at the action, quickly grabbing your wrist before you could retract your hand completely and pressing a kiss to your palm before you could really understand what was happening.

You sucked in a breath at the intimate moment, having been caught off guard. It wasn’t unwelcome, the display of affection, but it took you by surprise and without a second thought you smiled.

“I think I was promised pancakes today.” You hummed, grin on your face. Elias’ chest rumbled underneath you with his chuckles, and though you wanted nothing more than to stay cuddled up with him for as long as possible you knew you were falling harder and harder for him with each smile and every brush of his hand up and down your back. So with a sigh, you carefully pushed yourself up and retreated into the spare room to get a change of clothes.

When you returned, Elias had already started with breakfast and it was only a few moments later when the two of you were sitting at his kitchen table sharing sleepy smiles over chocolate chip pancakes.

“I like having you around.” He commented casually as you focused on pouring syrup onto your pancakes. It took you by surprise, his sweet words that made you melt, and with a teasing smile you shot him a playful look.

“Even if you’re always cooking for me?” You joked, taking a bite of your pancake as if to emphasize the point that he had made not only one, but three meals for you in the past few days you had been staying with him.

“Especially when I’m cooking for you.” He commented cheesily and you snorted at his words. You rolled your eyes, though your heart raced and in order to hide how flustered he made you, you turned your attention to the cup of orange juice you poured for yourself.

Eventually the two of you made your way into the living room in order to exchange presents, and though you settled back onto the couch there was much more space between the two of you than when you had woken up.

“Merry Christmas.” You told Elias, handing him the gift bag you had gotten for him. It was a bit of an expensive present, a nice watch you had seen him eye in the store on more than a few occasions.

“I love it.” He grinned, thanking you for the gift with a smile that made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Nerves flashed in his eyes as he handed to the small, carefully wrapped box, but you pushed the look to the side and started to pull the paper away.

Inside was a jewelry box, and when you lifted the lid you were met with a gold chain, an engraved bar necklace. You recognized the engraving as coordinates, but you had no idea as to what the location was. With furrowed brows, you looked up to Elias, only to find him only watching you with a nervous smile.

“It’s the coordinates for Ånge, Sweden.” He told you, swallowing thickly and you felt your heartbeat in your ears.

“Where you were born?” You connected the dots with an astonished sigh. Though your words came out as a question, you knew they were a fact, and he nodded once in confirmation. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to know, but any and all words died on your lips in that moment. He was giving you a part of him, his hometown, to wear and to have and you knew that it just had to mean something more than a Christmas gift. “Elias, what…?” You couldn’t finish, but you didn’t have to, because he knew what you needed to hear.

“I love you.” Elias told you earnestly. You gasped, the words catching you by surprise even though they shouldn’t, not when he invited you to stay with him during Christmas and not when you were holding the necklace that held so much importance to him. Not when you felt the same.

“Say it again.” You felt breathless, setting the necklace on the couch beside you to give your full attention to him. On instinct, you stood to your feet as if you couldn’t believe him. And really, you wanted to make things completely clear, not wanting to assume anything and break your heart by a misunderstanding.

“I love you.” Elias stood to his feet, then, too.

“Are you sure?” You asked, brows tugged together and hopes rising as the corners of his lips quirked up in amusement.

“Pretty sure, yeah.” He chuckled breathily at your comment, taking a step closer so that his hands settled on your waist. Your smile grew, twice as wide as it had in as long as you could remember, and in an instant your hands moved to the back of his neck.

“I love you, too, so much.” You breathed, leaning into his touch more. At your words, Elias dropped his forehead against yours, and your eyes fluttered shut as his nose nudged against yours. “So much.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, Elias pressed his lips against yours in a long awaited kiss, one that made your head spin and knees weak. Your fingers threaded into the hair on the back of his head as his dug into the flesh of your hips to hold each other in place. You had him, finally, and you didn’t plan on letting go of him anytime soon.

After what honestly was one of the best kisses of your life, you pulled back to catch your breath with a smile that made your cheeks sore. Elias was smiling, too, and before either of you could say anything, the two of you broke into giggles that could only be brought on by happiness and feeling of total love that warmed you from your head to your toes. Elias broke the silence first, mumbling his words against your forehead before pressing a kiss there.

“Best Christmas ever.”

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goddamnitdazai · 3 years

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Little Promises {S&S} | Chuuya

Part of the Salt & Sugar Series | N.SFW | 5K words [9:30] Chuu <3: I’m going to be a little late baby. Order that bottle of wine for us? Rarely did a date start off without one of those texts from Chuuya. He made reservations in the ‘earlier’ (according to mafia time) hours of the night to avoid a situation like this. In what he called the ‘perfect sweet spot’ between him getting off normal work hours and before having to deal with anything that would come up later in the evening as most of the real mafia business did. Lately, more attacks have been occurring directly against the Port Mafia rather than an assault against Yokohama. Nothing that the Black Lizard couldn't handle but Chuuya wasn’t one to sit out of a good fight. He’d gone with Hirotsu to go handle..something, someone most likely, but assured you he’d be finished in time for dinner.

Five or ten minutes wasn’t a big deal. Annoying, yes. But you knew what you signed up for. Being with Chuuya made the irritation worthwhile. Just his smile was enough to erode any negative feelings weighing on you from the day. Sighing quietly you order a bottle of his favorite wine and watch the stars twinkle through the glass. The restaurant itself was gorgeous. Brand new on the eightieth floor with a deck spread out around the entire outside. Chuuya was able to get a table in a heartbeat. The best one in the restaurant. Secluded right next to an expansive window showcasing Yokohama’s glittering amber skyline. Your reflection stares back at you in the window, restless fingers tapping on the newly filled glass of wine. Waiting. [9:45] Chuu <3: On my way back to the office, Boss needs something. Wait for me at the bar? We can sit outside instead. For a man who couldn’t hold that much liquor the wine Chuuya liked was strong. Your head was already buzzing even with the bits of spicy edamame you’d popped in your mouth as a distraction. Your posture deflates further when you read the text flashing on your screen. Deep scarlet liquid sloshes in the glass before passing through your lips to etch a burning pathway down your throat. The dress Chuuya had bought you fit perfectly against your curves. Silk. Red--his color. A sign you were his. The diamond choker he bought for your birthday suddenly feels too tight around your neck. You hated eating alone. [10:15] Chuu <3: Shit, I’m sorry baby Boss needs me to go take care of something. I’m really sorry, I’ll try to make it quick. Half the bottle churns with a sickly heat in the base of your belly. His chair was still empty. You whip your phone from it’s idled place on the table and tap out a response. [10:17] Chuuya? It’s been over an hour. Where are you? [10:45] You’re not coming are you? [10:50] I charged a bottle of wine to your card. I’m going home. Your shoes land somewhere in your apartment with a loud thump. Keys are next missing the wooden end table meant for them and your purse. Fuck, you were slightly more drunk than you realized. Overpowering vehemention towards the man supposed to be treating you to a nice dinner was the only reason you hadn’t stumbled out of the cab. If you had any type of superhuman strength your heels would have stomped four inch holes into the pavement. Your hand clumsily fumbles for the light switch as you make your way into your apartment muttering curses on Chuuya’s name the entire walk from your door to the kitchen. Compared to Chuuya’s two story penthouse your place was small but cozy. More decorated and homey-- Chuuya liked that about it, he said. Most of his walls were barren except a few pieces of expensive art he purchased on a whim. Chuuya preferred sleeping here over going home when he was out working late and you were already beneath the covers. Coming home to his lover was a treat sweeter than wine according to him. Your shoulders slump. It had been a few weeks since Chuuya had taken you on an actual date. Executives didn’t exactly have frequent pockets of unoccupied time. Leisure was more of a luxury to Chuuya than the most expensive wine in his collection. But, at least in the past few months, he’d been trying to spend more time with you the way a normal couple would. However his promises were falling shorter than you anticipated and at a much higher frequency than expected. There was nothing normal about your situation.. but god damn having a nice dinner with your boyfriend maybe once a month didn’t sound unreasonable. You drag your hand down your face and trudge to the fridge flinging the door open unceremoniously. There wasn’t much in here other than the few healthy snacks Chuuya left. Your diet mainly consisted of take out or to-go meals from the convenient store down the street. Chuuya hated it and usually preferred places that offered healthy meals, but the man rarely got home before ten at night and was exhausted the moment he crossed the threshold. Hence the dinner date. Your frown deepens. At some point you’d grabbed a water bottle but you weren’t even in the mood to open it. The fridge shuts with a harsh echoing click as you spin on your heel and head towards your bedroom. Between steps your bra ends up on the standing lamp and the matching panties get lost in the shadows. It took an hour to pick out that lingerie. Chuuya tore everything in his haste unless it was something he wanted to see you in more than once--he would have loved that little set. “Fucking asshole.” You snap to the empty bedroom, falling face first into the mess of pillows and blankets. It smelled like him. Unintentionally you inhale deeply cherishing the familiar scent of his shampoo and cologne mingling together. His lingering warmth contrasted the cold emptiness of the bedroom for a few moments bringing a comforting elation, and then the realization that you were in fact without him knocked you right back down. Chuuya was a workaholic. You knew that from the beginning. Working parallel with him exposed his dedication within the first week. A tiny bit of you (that was beginning to grow larger) had begun to truly resent Chuuya’s workaholic tendencies. The Port Mafia was important to him, you got that, but..weren’t you important too? You flip on your side to stop your head from spinning in rapid circles. The wine wasn’t sitting well on an empty stomach but at this point you were too tired and upset to get up and eat. Nothing sounded good anyway. Chuuya’s shirt you often slept in felt like a weight in your hand. “Fucker.” You hiss, throwing it onto the small chair in the corner of your bedroom. Fine. If you weren’t important enough to have fucking dinner with then you wouldn’t bother texting him again. This was pathetic. You try to focus on the wobbling lights of the city through your bedroom window. Gold and neon flecks blur like water droplets against a deep navy sky. A heavy melancholic silence fills up the apartment. Between the wine sloshing in your stomach and the pounding of your head sleep would most likely evade you tonight. Welled up vexation had suddenly melted to pure sorrow, choking you quietly as you lay curled up in the blankets. Finally, little sobs part your lips bringing a few tears in tow. This was stupid, it was just dinner. Chuuya didn’t do it on purpose but why the hell did it feel like a knife twisting in your heart? “Fucker..” you repeat, squeezing your eyes shut forcefully. You’d deal with it tomorrow. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++ At some point you’d passed out holding Chuuya’s pillow tightly in your arms. Unfortunately the thing to awaken you wasn’t the gentle kiss of sunrise or your lover’s tight embrace. The wine you’d downed had resurrected with a vengeance that had you sprinting to the bathroom. From the darkness still drenching the apartment morning hadn’t come quite yet. Your stomach heaves all the contents in a burning violent wrench that barely makes it into the toilet bowl. There’d be bruises from how hard your knees hit the tile but at least it caught all the mess. “Sh-shit..ow.” You mutter, spitting the rest out before wiping your mouth with a piece of toilet paper. “______?” Chuuya’s voice resonates from the living room. “_____? I’m really sorry. Baby...I’ll make it up to you..” Chuuya speaks softly, almost deflated. His voice hits you like a ton of bricks. A miniscule burst of energy helps you stand with aid from the sink at your side. The sudden rush of blood sends your head sloshing in a circle again nearly pushing you back down to the floor. With a deep inhale you force yourself to stand straight again and splash water on your face before looking up at the mirror. Make-up, it had smeared all down your cheeks and beneath your eyes from crying and rubbing against the pillow. You groan at your appearance and grab the mouth wash. Chuuya’s ears perk. “Baby? You okay?” His footsteps are light and quick until they reach the bathroom. “Baby! Are you alright!?” He’s at your side in an instant wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you to face him. “Don’t---” You press your hand to your forehead, “dizzy. Wine.” You mumble leaning back against the sink. Chuuya’s expression changes from worry to soft concern melded with guilt. His hands steady you with a gentle grip, coaxing you forward with unnecessary slowness (though it was appreciated by your stomach and head). All the crying had caused your eyes to swell enough that the details of the apartment, especially in the dark, were hard to see. If Chuuya hadn’t been guiding you back to your bedroom there’s a good chance you would have ended up face first on the floor. “____…” the guilt in his voice just made you feel worse. “I’m sorry.” He repeats, gentle ungloved fingers reaching for a tissue from the box on your night stand. Your vision was, at the least, bleary but the striking sunset tendrils framing his face stood out beautifully against the low light coming from the bathroom. “Hold on..” Chuuya murmurs, rising to his feet in quick steps. You sit in silence sniffling a bit and trying to keep the bile in your throat. Your eyes flutter shut to keep the light out. The blankets beneath you had bunched uncomfortably at the edge of the bed leaving you lopsided from sitting in the center of the mattress. Any attempt to shift could send whatever was left in your stomach flying, so you wait. Something creaks. Floorboards, then the mattress. Chuuya’s touches are two steps above gentle. Whatever it is, it’s cold. Something soft and cold in his hand over your eyes. It takes a few seconds for it to register. He’s cleaning the smudged make up off your face. Acts like this were the reason it was so hard to stay mad at the man. His gestures were sweet and honest. Showing you love in the only ways he really knew how to. Physical touch, gifts and sweet words after being gone for too long or bailing last minute. Your throat clenches as your fingers grip the loose sheets by your thighs. “Baby, I’m sorry.” Chuuya says it again. Your teeth cinch the inside of your lip. “You promised.” Chuuya’s shoulders sag but his hands keep working the smudged mascara off your face. His other hand nimbly massages the back of your neck finding the pressure point to relieve your headache. “I know.” What else could he say? “I don’t have a different excuse. Boss needed me. It was important. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. We can have dinner tomorrow or another night. I swear.” Chuuya tries to coax your eyes open with a soft rub of his thumb on your cheekbone. He knew all your spots and that’s what made it hurt the most. “But you promised.” You repeat, almost childlike in the inflection of your voice, but your eyes open. Immediately you’re mesmerized by the expression change on his features. Chuuya, when overcome with too much, tended to drop his head in defeat allowing his bangs to hide him from the shame he felt. Your fingers on his chin keep him from succeeding. “It’s…” you swallow the dry lump in your throat, “I need to be as important too. I’m not asking you to drop whatever Boss has you do when I want attention and I know you’re going to have to leave sometimes when shit comes up unexpectedly... but fuck...you need to give me something. Anything.” You set your hand timidly on his. “Unless the fucking world is collapsing...I need a promise I know you’re going to keep, Chuuya.” His eyes widen a bit, soft blue glimmering and reflecting bits of your distorted face in their tides. Chuuya stays silent for a moment but moves closer on the bed shifting you carefully until you’re on his lap, legs draped over either side of his thighs. His arms come around your waist (where they belong) to pull your torso flush with his. The hum of his ability tickles your skin as he leans himself back until his head hits the pillow. “Give me a little time to come up with something?” He finally breaks the silence. Hope diminishes and the swelling in your chest grows into a thick knot. “Okay.” You reply against his neck. There wasn’t a chance in hell Chuuya didn’t catch the desolation in your tone, but he says nothing. His fingers begin to detangle your messy hair in feather-soft strokes. Chuuya tended to melt into you without trying. Curl up around you keeping you comfortable enough to fall asleep in any environment. This position draws your face to the crook of his neck magnetically. A place molded to fit your head perfectly. Often, it was the only place that properly hid you from your thoughts and exhaustion when the world became too much at once. You inhale; his skin pebbles. He always smelled like sea salt and vanilla. He swears he puts cologne on but after working so much his natural scent clings to his skin and it’s much more intoxicating. His left hand slithers up and down your back drawing nonsensical patterns in your skin. Down your shoulder to the valley both blades create, following your spine lazily, methodically. His dexterous fingers spread open to reach the skin that encases your rib cage touching light enough it’s almost a tease. Chuuya’s gestures come from the depths of his emotions that so often tumble beneath the surface. Trained in the art of persuasion and deception he’s better at hiding what he’s thinking than he lets on. It’s all a matter of if he cares enough to do so or not. You tangle your legs together with his, thankful you’d forgone wearing anything to bed. Summer heat tended to creep into your bedroom despite the air conditioning, and the man beside you could melt chocolate with his touch. With Chuuya's skin constantly overheating (Arahabaki in the shadows) it was surprising his layers didn’t bother him. On cold winter mornings it was magnificent against your chilled face. In the summer he’d laze about in only his underwear with the air conditioning blowing, keeping you just cold enough to need the warmth from his skin. (He claims it’s not on purpose but you like to think it is). Heat had begun to spread the moment he pressed you up against him and held you like you’d disappear if he loosened his grip. Right now the little crook beneath his ear that curved down his neck forming a broad muscular shoulder happened to be the perfect temperature to soothe your headache. Chuuya cuddles you closer when he notices the tension dissipating. His head turns slightly to rest against your forehead, the soft ghost of his breath trails over the shell of your ear each time he exhales. Whatever alcohol remained in your system had slowly begun to recede with Chuuya’s presence. Falling asleep rather than passing out cold seemed to aid in the depletion of your headache, and truthfully, being with him cured every part of you. Scientifically correct or not--it always worked even when you were pissed at him. Chuuya’s chest softly begins to vibrate as your eyes flutter shut. A gentle tempo that remains tranquil but familiar.. Chuuya’s humming finally settles the ball of nerves tied up in your stomach. The last remaining irritation of the night quietly begins to melt away at the edges leaving your heart frayed and tender. Pure exhaustion was overpowering your will to stay awake and wait for Chuuya’s answer. Against your own command your eyelids droop and soak your environment in black. ++++++++++++++ Fuck that wine. From the moment you peeled your eyes open it felt like someone nestled their way into your skull to continuously pound it with a ball peen hammer. Your legs twist in the sheets as you try to get comfortable again and turn away from the sunlight sneaking through the window. Your arm smacks against the mattress, it felt strikingly cold. “Chuuya?”. The only response you receive is a small rustling from outside the bedroom door. A soft hum. Music? Something. You flop onto your back and force your eyes open. Thankfully the dizziness subsided permanently, unfortunately it’s counterpart (a killer migraine) still throbbed to the point that you were halfway convinced your eyeballs were physically pounding. “Chuu?” You call again, twisting on the bed until your bare feet hit the hardwood. Chuuya’s shirt fits comfortably over your head. Instinctively you inhale sharply holding the collar close to your nose before it settles and the smell of eggs draws you out of the bedroom. Normally you’d walk out completely naked but you felt beyond shitty. Lazily you tug up a pair of sweatpants and meander out into the kitchen in search of your boyfriend. Chuuya turns over a shoulder and gives you a soft smile. His back muscles were getting bigger, or perhaps the way he was holding the pan made them bulge. Regardless he looked damn good cooking you breakfast in a tight shirt bathed in morning light. “Good morning baby. Hungry?” Your stomach growls loud enough to echo down the street. Chuuya laughs and sets two plates down at your small table. Omurice, toast, and a few strips of bacon he’d picked up from some fancy market in Tokyo the last time he went. “Good. You need the protein after throwing everything up last night.” Chuuya pads over to you arms immediately wrapping around your waist snuggling you close against his bare chest. “I’m sorry baby.” He says for at least the fifth time. Two soft kisses to your forehead, one on your nose and a final on your lips. You slump against him letting your arms remain limp at your sides. “I figured out what I can do for you though. What you deserve.” “Oh?” Your arms find themselves around his waist, fingers spreading out to feel the rigid muscles in his lower back flex beneath your touch. Chuuya nods forehead now resting against yours. Sunlight funnels through the window scattering amber over the floor. Cresting Chuuya’s right side and across to the middle of his throat bathing him in light. The man truly emulated warmth and fuck he was more gorgeous than the sunrise itself. “Breakfast together. Every morning. Some days I’ll cook for you. Some days we’ll go out before work, and some days…” Chuuya begins to trail soft kisses down the side of your throat. Catching your breath suddenly becomes much harder with his mouth tasting your skin, “we’ll have breakfast in bed. I’ll eat you...and then we can eat together.” He chuckles darkly, waiting for the words to unfold in your head. “How can I turn that offer down?” Your fingers glide up the back of his neck carding through his hair. Chuuya sighs into your touch but continues the lazy, deliberately gentle line of kisses over the curve of your shoulder then backwards until he reaches your collarbone. “My place---” you gasp sharply, Chuuya loved to bite that spot on your neck, “or yours?”. Chuuya hums in thought hands now trailing down your curves around to the swell of your ass. “Whoever gets off work last goes to the other’s place. So, probably here a lot.” Chuuya squeezes, low growls emitting from his throat when you jolt into him. “Means you gotta actually buy food for me to cook.” You rise up on your toes moving closer and away from his grip on your ass. You couldn’t give in easy just yet, where was the fun in that? “Mmmm..but what if I like starting off the day with your cock?” You muse, teasingly dragging the sharp edges of your nails down his shoulder blades. Even through his shirt Chuuya’s shoulders were overly sensitive. Another set of animalistic growls erupts from him. He squeezes harder and nips at the center of your throat. “Guess I’ll have to give you what you want then, won’t I?” He smirks crookedly. You yelp when his hands dip between your thighs splitting them open to lift you up and onto the counter. “But first,” he murmurs, thumbs digging circles against your inner thighs, “I get my breakfast.” Chuuya leans into you, hips slotted between your trembling thighs so he can kiss you until you’re dizzy. Your hands wind up back in his hair holding him close. You inhale him greedily, savoring the taste of him in your mouth. Your sweatpants join Chuuya’s shirt on the floor in a puddle of fabric. The heat from his body sweeps you up into the clouds. You weren’t sure if it was the hangover, the speed in which Chuuya had you spread open on the kitchen counter or a combination of them both but your head was already fogged. Chuuya’s breath along your thigh keeps you lucid enough to feel every movement he makes. The tickle of his hair on your leg, the gentle prodding of his thumb spreading open your wet lip and the oh so lewd sweep of his tongue up your pussy. “Fuck!” You gasp, hair tugging roughly at the bundle of red hair between your fingers. Chuuya’s chuckle vibrates up your core. His tongue expertly flattens against your pussy, long strokes beginning at your entrance ensuring to taste every inch of your folds all the way up to your clit. The edge of his tongue flicks over the swelling bud once or twice before descending through your lips again. Chuuya moans into you, muttering praises of your taste between licks and prods of his tongue deep inside you. “Ch-Chuu!” The knot in your stomach was near ready to snap. “Do it baby. Right on my fucking tongue.” Chuuya commands, looking up at you from between your legs momentarily before returning to his work. Chuuya’s two fingers hold your pussy open for his tongue to explore. Dipping in and out, traveling up to tease and suck on your clit until stars burst behind your eyes and you’re moaning incoherently. Chuuya doesn’t waste a drop. “So good..” his praises are saturated with lust, “fuck you taste so good.” Arousal smears across his cheeks and lips as he cleans the mess between your legs. Gentle licks and motions, just enough to begin overstimulation to carry over into what would come next. You curl over him trying not to fall off the counter. Chuuya gets to his feet, hands remaining on your shoulders to give you leverage as he discards his sweatpants revealing his fat hard cock red and dripping pre-cum. You lick your lips and reach for him, pumping it a few times in an off-beat rhythm. “Already fucked out baby?” He taunts playfully, lips still glistening with your cum. You pout at him and jerk him forward by the hair. Chuuya laughs, using the motion to line his cock up with your weeping entrance. “Yeah? You want it that bad?” Your hips jerk forward when the head rubs up against your clit. “Chuuya!” You huff, switching tactics. His eyes widen to saucers moan loud and deep enough it rattles in your chest. Your fingers tweak and tug at his pebbled nipples egging him on to submit. Or piss him off. Regardless, the outcome would be the same. “Do you want it that bad? Just one touch..” you mimic his teasing tone. Chuuya’s eyes narrow, chest still puffed out towards your hands. “I always want you.” He replies, punctuating the last word with a jerk of his hips. Your head lolls back in surprise, the burn of his cock stretching you out to the hilt makes your toes curl. “Ohfuck!” You choke on air; Chuuya is quick to grip your hips and bite down on your throat. His pace is relentless. Needy. Sticky, hot and slick. You keep one arm wrapped around his neck the other slanted back on the counter for balance. Chuuya buries his face in the crook of your neck as he fucks your hard and deep. Your knees end up by his ribs allowing you to cross your ankles behind him. The angle change makes Chuuya moan deep against your skin. Somehow, his speed picks up sending you bouncing up and down on his cock. Every stroke inside you hits that sweet bundle of nerves that keeps you moaning his praises. “Fuck--” he grits his teeth and slides one hand down to hold you up by your ass lifting you off the counter. He grunts again, moving in just a few steps into the center of the kitchen. Chuuya drops to his knees with the aid of his ability and places you on your back, hips following the natural path of gravity to push his cock deeper inside you. “Fuck..there..” he murmurs, shifting his hands to your thighs pressing them back until your knees reach your shoulders. “Just like that baby..fuck you’re so god damn beautiful..” His eyes glisten, gemstone blue clouded in the haze of arousal and pleasure. This position was so lewd and fuck it turned you on knowing Chuuya was watching you like this. Vulnerable and split open by his throbbing cock. Chuuya tilts his chin down mesmerized by the view of his cock pistoning in and out of your wet pussy. Cum and slick squirting against him with every harsh thrust forward. Your back arcs off the floor; the head of his cock relentlessly slams into your g spot until you’re cumming again. “G-goodgirl!” Chuuya sputters out, pounding into you three more times before he’s spilling inside of you gasping your name in a sultry, silky voice only you get to hear. Chuuya rolls his hips a few more times in rhythmless sputters before collapsing (gently) on top of you. Sweat matting his bangs left and right, skin a rosy pink and body taut. You wrap a shaky arm around his back, eyes fluttering closed. “Mm..you doin’ okay?” He asks, pushing himself up with one elbow to look at you. “Yeah…fuck..” you couldn’t even think straight let alone articulate just how good you were feeling now. Chuuya smiles--the rest of the world doesn’t compare to the brightness of it, you think. “You’re forgiven.” You finally say, long exhale following. Chuuya beams and kisses your nose. “I am sorry baby. And I promise we’re going to eat breakfast together every morning.” Chuuya rolls to his side bringing you with him. Your leg ends up thrown over his hip and his arm pulls you flush to his chest. “I love you ______. I love you so fuckin’ much.” Chuuya drops kisses along your cheek as he speaks. “I love you too, Chuu.”

#chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungo stray dogs #bsd #chuuya fic #my writing #my writing chuuya #salt and sugar #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara fanfic

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reinersbb · 3 years

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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Five- Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy PT.1

Chapter Five Part One of Forget

Orange, black, and purple plastic solo cups littered the dewy grass along with other miscellaneous speckles of trash- some cups still retaining remnants of alcohol. Only ten o'clock at night and there was already a headache of a cleanup worth of mess outside on the front lawn. There was no telling how much worse it would be on the inside where the heart and soul of the party was. But it's not like after-party cleanup would be your problem to deal with.

Carved jack-o-lanterns that were once originally placed along the long walkway leading up to the front door of the frat house were smashed and overturned. Stringy pumpkin guts and seeds clung to the porous pavement of the walkway, some of the pumpkin innards in the grass. A collection of large oak trees in the front lawn were decorated with ominous purple lights. The flickering light cascaded across the grass, bouncing off the glass of littered alcohol bottles.

As you transitioned onto the property from the bustling street of roaming party-goers from different frat homes all around, the music and shouts from within the home ahead of you seemed almost loud enough to shatter its' windows. The base of your heels clicked against the pavement out of excitement as you trailed up the property.

A gust of wind hit your overly exposed flesh, and a chill of excitement tickled your vertebrae. While you were pulling the silk robe you wore over your body to cover yourself, short wolf-whistles from a group of drunk party-goers who'd barely managed to stand up straight caught your attention. The intoxicated faces that wore skewed face paint waved to you, catcalling you, wanting nothing else but your attention, but, you ignored them and continued onto the covered porch. Anywhere away from the blabbering drunk so-and-so's who were floundering in the lawn is a place where you wanted to be.

The front door that belonged to the home was left completely open, and you couldn't tell if the people passing through were coming or going. But you pushed your way through and sure enough, you were finally inside and one with the chaos that was the Halloween party. You already knew that this party was more hectic than the last one you attended.

Spirits were high, and the energy emitting from the room you now stood in practically zapped you.

One look alone at the hoard of people around you had you wishing that you would've at least asked Ymir to cancel her late-night movie date with Historia so they could follow along with you tonight instead. You weren't sure if you could handle a party like this all by yourself.

Managing to shuffle away from the front door, you stood aside and reached for your phone that you'd been holding in your small purse. Taking a quick look around at all the flashy details of costumes, your eyes dug down at your phone screen.

Today 22:46 Hey Jean, I'm here...

Though it wasn't out of spite or pettiness, a handful of hours is how long you left Jean's messages on seen. You decided earlier in the day to take it upon yourself and show up and surprise him with your arrival instead of messaging beforehand so that way he wouldn't expect a thing.

After your message was sent, all you had to do was find Jean. Or he had to find you. Seemed simple enough, but with one look at the crowd, you knew it wouldn't be such an easy task to tackle. Even if Jean was nearby, how would you be able to pick him out of the crowd?

There were many, and if not all, people wearing costumes. Even if by chance you were to know tons of people, they'd be hardly recognizable to you. So trying to catch a face would be worthless.

A singular buzz from your phone had you checking your lock-screen within an instant. Sure enough, it was a response from Jean.

Jean: Where are you?

Just as you were about to start at your reply, the chat bubble from the receiving end disrupted you. But as you watched and waited, the chat bubbles disappeared without any further sign of reappearing.

Then somehow you heard Jean's voice shouting your name over the crowd.

But where?

You couldn't help but look like a maniac as you scanned your surroundings. You were trying to recall which direction you heard his tenor voice last when suddenly two large hands skewed your vision. Instantaneously your hands went flying upward, dropping your phone mid-process as you felt at his wrists as he stood close behind you.

You yelped a response, "Jean!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jean's hands lowered from your face, allowing you to see clearly once again. "Let me get that," you watched as his hand reached for your phone that was on the ground.

Jean fell into your line of sight as you turned on your heel to face him. Both of you went wide-eyed as both of you took each other in, examining each other's costume. Your phone that was now dangling at his fingertips was almost dropped for a second time out of Jean's surprise.

"Are you... a cowboy?" You managed to make the first remark.

Covering Jeans' head was a worn chocolate brown cowboy hat, along with a matching colored mid-thigh coat. His hair was tucked under the hat, only the ends of his hair billowing out. Though like always, the black studded earrings were still imprinted in both his earlobes. A red paisley bandana covered up the neck of his button-up shirt. Dark faded blue jeans covered his long legs and a large belt buckle hung at his hips. The cuffs of his jeans swamped worn down brown pointed boots. His cheeks seemed to be more defined while somehow his facial hair seemed to be darkened and unruly.

His ruggedness was hot.

Jean cleared his throat before attempting to speak with his best cowboy impressions, "you betcha', cowgirl." Jean paused for a beat, mainly to gather his words, "now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm assuming you're dressed as a playboy bunny?"

"Bingo. How do you like my costume? Historia and Ymir helped me come up with the idea."

Promptly, you corrected your bunny ears that'd been pushed out of place from his surprise attack. Jean silently raked your appearance in from head to toe, his tongue caught on his lip as if he were about to say something but he hesitated, almost like he was nervous. Even if he was nervous, he most certainly wouldn't let you know that.

Eventually, he gulped, and through his parted lips he spoke, "I- I like it, your costume puts mine to shame. Also, I think the colors red and black suit you well."

If it weren't for the off-put lighting of different color hues, you would've been able to notice the radiating peach glow on his cheeks.

"Thanks, your cowboy costume isn't so bad either," you teased, tipping the front of his hat down over his brow line. "That's payback for making me drop my phone."

Jean chuckled, lifting the hat from his head, allowing the locks of his hair to fall across his forehead aimlessly. His long fingers ran through his hair, pushing his amber strands back before setting the cowboy hat back on his head.

After the quick readjustment, Jean's eyes were on you, "by the way, thanks for showing up tonight."

"Oh, it's no big deal," you admitted when in reality you'd spent hours getting ready, regardless of how nonchalant you'd made your previous statement out to be.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to look good tonight since you knew Jean would be at the party. You didn't care about the technicalities or the thoughts and ideas people would make of you from your attire alone. But you wouldn't admit it.

You were uncertain for how long you had been staring at Jean for, that and you were also uncertain of close the two of you were standing next to each other until you were randomly pushed from behind by a passerby. Jean of course caught ahold of you as you went stumbling forward. Jean helped stabilize your footing by holding onto your arms.

There was a scowl on his face as he stared off into the crowd, searching for the person who carelessly bumped into you. The disgruntled look on his face was hardly noticeable if you weren't paying enough attention, but sure enough, there was a scowl on his face.

"Are you okay?" Jean's eyes were back on you, "they didn't even stop to apologize to you."

"It's alright, Jean, it's not like I got hurt or anything, and they're probably too drunk to function."

"You know you're probably right," even though it seemed like he didn't want to give up that easily, Jean carefully took ahold of your wrist, "will you follow me?"

You attempted to speak over the blaring background noise, "okay, where are we going?"

Jean turned his head back for only a second so he could respond as he began to walk, "you'll see."

The next room the two of you entered wasn't as packed as the entrance of the house, but still as lively. A table with solo cups at either side was folded out and there were two teams tossing ping pong balls back and forth, taking a drink from the orange solo cups when directed. A hoard of people surrounded the table, but you managed to get a vision of the action.

"Beer pong?" You talked over the commotion, taking a glance at Jean before back at the table.

"Have you ever played before?"

"Back in high school, I've played a handful of times but I completely sucked at the game. I haven't won, not even a single time."

"Let's see if your luck has changed any and see if we can break that losing streak of yours," Jean finally released your wrist to go talk to a man who'd been standing near the game table.

The unknown man was dressed in black pants and a white and black striped shirt, like one of those burglars you see in children's cartoons. Under a black beanie, he had blond hair and was built, his well-toned muscles were flexed as his arms wrapped around his chest while talking with Jean. Next to the blond was a much taller man, who was even taller than Jean by at least two to three inches, who wore a similar costume as the blond.

"Hey! Are you a friend of Jean?" An alto-toned voice called out from your right as you felt a knuckle tap on your shoulder.

A tall man with a freckle-kissed face and chocolate brown eyes beamed at you, his expression was laced with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. His hair was parted and styled like a man from the eighties, and he wore a red puffer jacket over a denim jacket. Instantly you thought he was dressed as Marty McFly from Back To The Future.

"I guess you could say that, yes," you said, unsure if a straight yes or no would be correct.

"Okay, cool! I'm Marco, Jean's best friend. I haven't seen you around before, where did you guys meet?"

"I met him through my mutuals at a party last Saturday-" you paused for a beat, remembering the first actual encounter you had with Jean. "Actually, the first time I ever met him is when I quite literally ran into him. It was horrible, I spilled my latte and everything."

You'd have Jean pay you back for that latte one day, even if you were the one that barged into him. And that was a promise.

Just then, those chocolate brown eyes of his flashed for a split second. His thick eyebrows rose and fell and the corners of his lips struggled to keep from lifting into a knowing smirk.

"Before I forget to ask, what is your name?"

Whenever you told Marco your name, his eyes darted over towards Jean's direction then back at you. There was a weird expression on his face that you couldn't put your finger on, it almost seemed like he knew something that you didn't.

Your eyebrow lifted, "what's the matter, Marco?"

"Marco!" Jean finally reappeared from the beer pong table, almost standing in between you and Marco.

Jean glanced at you and back to Marco.

"Wait, what were you two talking about?" Jean shifted towards you slightly, a shadow falling across his brow from the cowboy hat he was wearing.

His defensive side caused suspicion to arise inside of you. Had he been hiding something from you?

"We-"

You'd attempted to speak, but Marco beat you to it, "nothing, Jean, I was just introducing myself to your friend."

Jean stared at Marco for a few seconds, like he was carefully reading the man with chocolate eyes.

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer, almost like an explosion from the table. Then there was a harsh whistle that zipped through the other commotion which caught Jean's attention entirely.

"Jean! Come on, you're up against me and Bert," the same man that Jean was talking to previously informed.

"Come on," Jean motioned for you to follow him, "let's get you that win."

Across from you stood the same two men who Jean had been talking to previously. Apparently, the blond's name was Reiner and the other went by Bert, or Berty, however, the blond cooed. While Marco stood off to the side of both you and Jean, loaning you his friendly support and cheering both of you on.

As the game commenced, Jean stood close beside you the whole time, giving you a few tips and tricks here and there to help sink the ball. You noted how nice it felt when he held onto your wrist one time to imitate a fake swish. Or how nice it felt when you actually sunk a ball into a cup and Jean would congratulate you by pulling your body against him into a side hug.

You felt at the top of the world, soaring all high and mighty. There was a slight buzz kicking in already from the cups of beer you had to drink, and Jean even decided to help you out with most of them by downing the liquid. He'd pluck the cup up from the table, and before dipping his head back, he'd glance at you with a knowing look with his intense eyes over the brim of the cup.

Your fingers accidentally laced with his momentarily as you high-fived one another after Jean scored your team another point. Soon after your mini celebration was cut short, Jean rolled his eyes whenever Reiner's ball bounced into your team's orange cup. Reluctantly his slender fingers grasped the brittle material and downed the beer.

With the back of his wrist, he wiped the corners of his mouth, "we just need to score the last cup," Jean placed a hand on your shoulder, his excited eyes staring into yours.

"What if I mess up?" You kept your eyes only on Jean.

"You won't."

With that, you sucked a breath in through your nose and exhaled steadily. The music was continuously bumping in the background while you rinsed off your ball in the discard cup. Your chest was thumping, and there was a ringing sensation beginning to sound.

The game was currently tied up. One to one. Reiner and Bert stood adjacent to you and Jean. Both men waved their hands in front of the cup as you aimed for the center.

Once the ball was tossed and in mid-air after its' first bounce, their hands ripped away, and almost as if it were playing in slow motion, the ball landed in the cup. The contents sloshing around slightly on impact as your ball sank into the depths of the plastic. Reiner sighed and plucked the ball out and drank the beer from the remaining cup you happened to score.

An eruption of emotions spilled out of you and everyone else around you. To your surprise, you felt Jean ease his arms around you, swiftly lifting you and spinning you in a victory hug. Naturally, you melted into Jean's touch as he held you up from the ground.

"We did it, Jean! Thank you so much for believing in me."

"It's no problem, I knew that you could do it, but I do enjoy the praise."

If it weren't for Eren walking up and interrupting both of you, the moment of celebration with Jean would've lasted much longer.

You would've preferred that outcome.

"Jean, Marco," A slap on Jeans' shoulder came from Eren, "I've been looking for you two and everyone else, Porco wants us downstairs," Eren was practically already shit-faced.

When Eren's shiny emerald eyes caught ahold of yours, he stopped to smile and greet you. He couldn't believe that he'd overlooked you for that short moment.

"You- a playboy bunny? Damn, if I would've known you'd come dressed as that I would've come dressed as Hugh Hefner," Eren held a bottle pointed at you as he took your appearance in, "don't be a stranger, you should join us downstairs."

"Now, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"It's okay, Jean," you reassured the tall figure, "it sounds like it will be fun."

Your heels clapped against the hard flooring after stepping away from Jean who finally let you back onto the ground. Instead of walking with Jean, you stayed behind him as he walked with Marco, and Eren was already way ahead of the two men. You enjoyed watching Jean and Marco converse from behind, and also you noticed how lively they seemed to be when talking to each other.

Much to your Amusement, you immediately noticed out of the crowd of people in the basement that both Connie and Sasha were wearing matching crayon costumes. Connie was the color green and Sasha was yellow.

"Over here, you guys!" Connie practically fell over his own feet as he grabbed your small group's attention.

Though, another face, another painstakingly familiar face caught your attention.

'Why the hell is he here?'

Floch never showed up to parties, so why now of all times?

You stilled in your tracks, unsure of what to do. Do you approach the group and be awkward because of your ex-boyfriend? Or do you stop, turn around, and head back out instantly without another word spoken?

You noticed when Jean turned his head over his shoulder to look back at you, almost like he somehow noticed or felt a shift in the atmosphere around your group. His lips turned from a crooked smirk from talking to Marco into a slight frown as he gazed at you. Jean paused from marching alongside Marco to glide back and meet up with you.

Naturally, Marco turned on his heel to question what was up and why both of you stopped following, and all Jean did was encourage him to carry on and that the two of you would only take a second.

You appreciated Jean's concerns, but you didn't know what to say to him, what could you possibly say to him without making him uncomfortable?

"What's wrong?" Jean asked as he finally approached you.

"He," your eyes found comfort by staring at the ground you were standing on, "he's here."

"What do you mean?" Jean looked around momentarily before looking back at you, "who's here?"

There wasn't much time to waste, not if you wanted to make your conflicting emotions noticeable to the others who were waiting for all four of you to join them. You definitely didn't want Floch to notice how bothered you were by his presence.

What was he doing here anyway? He never was the one to attend parties, he even said so himself.

"My ex-boyfriend," you spoke dryly, almost unable to be heard if Jean weren't listening well enough.

Without another word spoken, you lifted your head, Jean took the cue to follow your eyes where Floch was seated. You watched as the redhead enjoyed a beverage from his orange cup, laughing at something with a man with short brown hair, whom you didn't recognize.

"Who? That guy is your ex?" Jean asked, paying close attention to you while gesturing towards Floch.

"Yeah, the redhead, I didn't think he'd be here tonight," you exhaled an uneasy breath of air, "he was never the one for parties. God, I don't want him to ruin my night, I've been having so much fun and-"

"So then don't let him ruin your night," Jean took ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, "I have an idea."

Your eyes flashed with excitement at the hand-to-hand contact with Jean, "what's your idea?"

Jean's stern eyes softened for a split second, almost like he were telling you to trust him. Without any debate on the matter, you swallowed your nerves and squeezed Jean's fingers with your own, embracing the comforting heat of his palm on yours. You could only notice how relaxed your hand was in his, the feeling was familiar and soothing, something you could get used to if given the chance.

"Hey guys," Jean spoke to the large friend group, taking a seat beside Marco on the couch.

The group of people was much larger this time around. You recognized some faces from previous encounters at the last party, while some faces you hadn't seen before, and some were completely unrecognizable due to their costumes. More people were standing idly by away from your group talking to one another, some were dancing, and there were others preoccupied at the wet bar. You noticed that there was a small group huddled around a pool table, but decided to_ ignore_ the pool table.

Without anywhere else to sit due to limited space around, you hesitated briefly until Jean pulled you onto his lap. With a squeal, you adjusted yourself, crossing your legs quaintly as you delicately sat on his lap. This whole time from holding hands with Jean till now you've avoided looking towards the direction Floch was sitting in, but you noticed that his lips had gone still, and movement of his had ceased.

Maybe he was jealous by seeing you and Jean together, hand in hand. But that was a good thing, right?

Jean's large palm draped on your hip delicately, no, hesitantly, almost like he was unsure to touch you. His palm hovered across the material of your silk robe, feeling the intricate indentations of the more risqué undergarments underneath. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by the way he was holding onto you, all he could do was hope you wouldn't mind. But, considering your past encounter with Jean, he thought something so simple as having his hand placed on your hip didn't match up to the extremity of the last personal encounter you two shared.

Connie and Sasha struck up a conversation with you as soon as you were comfortably seated. Jean and Marco casually joined in on the conversation and all five of you sat talking amongst yourselves out of the group of well over a dozen.

There were the occasional cut-ins from Eren or the blond whose name was Armin that you'd seen from yesterday, but you didn't mind. There was also a man who was named Niccolo that appeared from upstairs who joined in, he brought two beers with him and wiggled his way to sit in between Sasha and Connie, mostly leaning into Sasha though as he gave her one of the beverages he'd been holding. The more the merrier you thought.

As long as it wasn't Floch joining in, you didn't mind.

The conversation was cut to a halt when a man with dirty blond hair that was slicked back cleared his throat to speak. The blond wore a black leather jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath and faded blue jeans covering his legs. Sitting next to him was another male who wore a similar matching costume, sans jacket and his hair was only a little messier than the blonds, with his hair falling out of place but still kept back. They looked to be dressed like a character out of the book _The Outsiders, _like greasers.

"How about we all play a little game?"

"What kind of game, Pock?" A woman with thick black hair asked, her arm lazily dragged across the man's shoulder as she tipped her head out of curiosity.

"Pieck, I told you to stop calling me that," the blond seemed to be easily frustrated by the single comment.

Which only resulted in a soft laugh from Pieck, "alrighty then, Porco."

The irritate state seemed to blow over quickly, and Porco now was back on track with his original train of thought, "anyways, I was thinking of..." Porco glanced around the vast group for a moment, "a little game of truth or dare?"

"Truth or dare? Don't you think that's a little middle schoolish, baby brother?" The man sitting beside him with brown hair asked playfully, visibly striking a nerve in Porco.

"Shut up," Porco hissed at his brother, "it's my party, so I get the say in what we do, so if _you _don't like it, Marcel, then you can leave. It's as easy as that," Porco pulled a bottle of bud light to his lips before tipping his head back to take a drink. "And that goes for everyone else too, if you don't like it, then leave."

Though, with the invitation to leave if warranted, no one got up from their seat. And you could tell that Jean hadn't even considered the option of leaving since he made no effort to move, and neither did you. But, naturally, you turned your head over your shoulder just to ask him and make sure. What you didn't anticipate was the proximity that both of your faces would be to each other once you turned to look back at him.

You stilled on Jean's lap, the breath you sucked in practically caught in your throat at his closeness, "Jean," you almost asked in a hushed tone, "do you want to play?"

"Of course," his smile disappeared briefly, but not because he was unhappy, "I mean unless you don't then we can go somewhere-"

"No," you smiled, aimlessly turning back to face the crowd as you'd once been, "I'd like to play, all I need is a drink to start the pace," you admitted, eyes falling onto Floch after turning back forward.

————————

"You have to do the dare, Bert," the man from the opposing team you played against earlier, who you now knew as Reiner, spoke out, encouraging his tall friend and the girl he was with.

Currently, Bertholdt was to take a body shot off of the girl's stomach. The poor boy was flustered out of his mind, his tan cheeks were a deep shade of pink as he leaned towards the girl. Bert dipped down to her naval, sucking out the alcohol from her belly button. Whistles and cheers sounded out from the crowd when Bert pulled his face back, downing the shot of booze.

"Atta champ," Reiner slapped Bertholdt on his back, causing Bert to cough up a sputter on the alcohol that lingered in his throat.

Bertholdt shrugged his shoulder over his mouth, eliminating any residual of alcohol on his lips.

Currently, you were a few turns in of a modified version of truth or dare. But instead of truths, there were only dares, or you had to take a drink for bailing. The game and its' rules reminded you of the spin-the-bottle game you played last Saturday.

"Drink or dare," you scanned across the crowd, thinking of a victim to pick, "Sasha."

"Dare, obviously," she elbowed Connie in the rib playfully, waiting to hear the poison you picked for her.

A mischievous grin developed on your eager lips, you had just the dare in mind for Sasha.

"I dare you to go lock yourself in a room with Niccolo for ten minutes," you pointed to a room just a few feet away from your group.

Niccolo sputtered out of embarrassment, he was surprised that you'd dare Sasha to do something like that. But Sasha, she wasn't the one to complain over a dare. So, she hopped up on her feet and waited for Niccolo to follow.

Though you only crafted this dare mostly as a joke, you knew well that this dare would also help the two jump-start their relationship in the right direction. You came to that conclusion solely by observing how the two had been interacting with each other so far.

Niccolo seemed to be interested in Sasha but, of course, was hesitant, while Sasha on the other hand was oblivious to Niccolo's advances.

Before Sasha entered the nearby room, she shot you a glance, a glance that could read 'you'll pay for this later.'

After receiving quick congratulatory praise from Eren and Connie due to daring Sasha and Niccolo to do such a thing, both men signaled to Jean that it was now his turn to dare someone.

"Who's it going to be, Jean?" pulling your chin back over your shoulder, you stopped to look at the man you were sitting on.

His fingers that were slack against you suddenly gripped your body slightly. Jean's index finger vaguely tapped against you where he held onto, before combing all fingertips against your flesh in a soothing manner.

Without a second glance around the room, Jean spoke with his head slightly tilted, his eyes on and only on you, "I dare you to kiss me."

#attack on titan #Jean #jean smut #Jean Kirschstein #aot smut #jean kirschtein smut

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toosicktoocare · 3 years

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prompt: i would literally commit a crime for a buddie sick fic in these trying times,,, i don’t even care what the specifics are just,, hngg buddie sickfic ❤️👄❤️ (big mood, anon)

(I got another anon that asked for Buck taking care of sick Eddie as well. I just lost the dang ask before I could post the fic.)

Ever since Maddie’s kidnapping, Buck cannot, for the life of him, sleep well. His subconscious is gripped in a muted fear, keeping him trapped in interrupted, light slumbers. Maddie and everyone at the 118 pester him regularly about it, giving him various options to help with sleep, but he’s afraid of the foggy mind that comes with over-the-counter medication, so he convinces himself he can run on low fumes, boosting with caffeine as needed because a tired mind is still a clear mind, albeit a little slower.

When his phone rings at 2:07 a.m., Buck jerks awake, mind previously edging the line of a dream, and he fumbles blindly for his phone, squinting at the light to see “Eddie Diaz” flashing across his screen.

His stomach bottoms out, and he presses answer and swings his legs over the bed, feeling cold with fear. “Eddie? What’s wrong?” He can hear crying on the other end, and he balances the phone between his ear and shoulder as he kicks around in the dark for his abandons shorts. “Eddie!”

“Hey, sorry. One sec.”

Eddie sounds panicked, Buck thinks, taking the steps down to the first floor two at a time. He can hear Eddie trying to reassure Christopher that everything’s going to be okay in the background, and he pauses, briefly gripped in a paralyzing fear, briefly brought back to the tsunami, to losing Christopher.

“Look, I’m sorry for calling so late. Chris has been sick since the end of my shift, and I just can’t get his fever down. With his CP... I’m taking him to the ER.”

Buck’s half out the door, shoes barely on his feet, when he realizes he’s still shirtless. He snags an LAFD zip-up off the back of a chair and stumbles back to the door, arms sliding into the jacket. “What hospital?”

“I... I didn’t even ask. You’ll come?”

“Of course I’ll come,” Buck spits out, already out the door and taking the steps out of his apartment building two at a time. “What hospital?” He repeats as he runs out of the building and all but rips his jeep door open. He nods absently when Eddie rattles off the details, mentally mapping out the quickest route.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Be careful.”

Buck rolls his eyes because of course Eddie is going to still worry for his well-being, and he ends the call and peels out of his parking spot.

***

“Hi,” Buck starts, breathless, heart trying to catch up to the rest of him, “my name is Evan Buckley, and I’m looking for a young kid. Christopher-”

“Buck.”

Buck whips around from the receptionist desk to see Eddie slipping out a set of large double doors, and for a moment, he doesn’t move, he only assesses. Eddie’s pale, which, Buck thinks, is to be expected if he’s been up in a near-constant state of worry after a 16-hour shift. His cheeks are red, and Buck’s quick to peg it on exertion, on Eddie racing into the hospital with Christopher, his own heart also working to match the rest of him. And, he’s shaking, and Buck knows cold nerves all too well, still feeling chilled himself.

His eyes fall to Eddie’s, and then he crosses the room to him quickly and gathers him in his arms tightly. Eddie slumps against his chest, and Buck tightens his arms around him.

“How’s Chris?”

Eddie lingers for a moment, clinging to Buck, before he pulls away with a low sigh. “He’s okay. Just a persistent virus.”

Buck nods, a frown playing at his lips. Without Eddie’s body flush against him, he feels colder than normal, and on instinct, he smooths the back of his hand to Eddie’s forehead, lingering there before moving to cup Eddie’s neck.

“You sure he’s the only one with a virus? You’re really warm.”

“I...” Eddie sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ve been feeling a little off, but Chris...”

“Right, where is he?”

Eddie leads Buck to Christopher’s room, and as soon as he steps in, Christopher’s face lights up in such a way that Buck’s steps falter.

“Buck!”

Though sounding a little weak, the contagious energy is still centerfold, and Buck leans toward it, finding his footing and matching Christopher’s smile with his own.

“Hey, buddy! Heard you aren’t feeling so hot.” Buck eases himself onto the edge of the hospital bed, staring at Christopher’s vitals for an extended moment before turning toward him, assessing the same way he assessed Eddie.

“Yeah, I feel bad.”

A sympathetic frown pulling at his lips, Buck spares a glance to see Eddie flopping down onto a chair pulled to Christopher’s bedside. “I bet you do, but you’re going to feel better in no time. You’ve got the Diaz genes.”

“And daddy will feel better too?”

Buck finds Eddie’s eyes, and he opens his mouth to speak, stopping when Eddie shoots him a very clear look that all but screams “don’t.”

“I’m sure your dad will feel a lot better when you’re better.”

“That’s good,” Christopher mumbles, and Buck nods, patting Christopher’s leg.

***

Buck’s carefully quiet as Eddie putters around his house, watching as Eddie measures out Christopher’s medicine, as he hovers over Christopher until he falls asleep, and he only intervenes when he’s sure Eddie can breathe deeply without the fear that Christopher is going to take a turn for the worse.

“He’s finally asleep,” Eddie mutters, coughing into his fist. “All dosed up, fever’s finally down. I’ll contact his school in a few hours before my shift; see if Carla can take him for a the full day.”

“You aren’t going in.”

Eddie stops around a yawn. “What?”

“I texted Bobby. He’s pulling coverage for the next few days so you can rest.” Buck can pinpoint every emotion that flicks across Eddie’s face: confusion, frustration, exhaustion. He’s seen them all, sometimes daily.

“Buck-”

“Eddie, you have a fever. You’re exhausted, and you are only going to get worse if you go on three hours of sleep.”

“Since when did you become the responsible one?” Eddie sighs lowly, and Buck laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“It’s my week to be responsible. You had it last week.”

Eddie hums around a small smile and rubs at the ache on his forehead. “I really appreciate you coming, Buck. I don’t think... I just... It was really nice to have you there.”

Buck gets to his feet, and, for the second time that night, crosses the room and pulls Eddie right to his chest, hoping that he can ease some of the worrying pressure, even if just for a moment.

Eddie snuggles into him, frowning as he thumbs Buck’s bare chest, exposed where his zipper’s slipped down a little.

“Where’s your shirt?”

“Ah, I kinda forgot one when I rushed out.” Buck smiles sheepishly when Eddie pulls back, and he cups a hand to Eddie’s cheek, too warm for his liking.

“Okay, Diaz, it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

Buck snags Eddie’s hand and guides him to the bedroom, ignoring Eddie’s questions the whole way. He makes easy work of tugging Eddie’s jacket and jeans off, and he urges him into the bed in nothing but a short sleeve under shirt and boxers.

“Buck-”

Buck disappears into the bathroom, still promptly ignoring Eddie, and he comes back with a glass of water, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a thermometer.

“Buck, I’m fine.”

“Mmhmm, sure. Open.” Buck waves the thermometer in front of Eddie’s face until Eddie sighs and opens his mouth wide enough for Buck to slip the thermometer under his tongue. While waiting, he presses two fingers to Eddie’s neck, counting the flutter of heartbeats beneath his finger prints until the thermometer beeps.

“101.7,” Buck reads aloud, frowning. “Heartbeat’s a little fast. Any other symptoms?”

Eddie gives him a knowing look, but Buck doesn’t back down, matching Eddie’s narrow gaze until Eddie caves.

“My head and throat hurt. I’m freezing, and I’m tired.”

Nodding, Buck tugs at the blankets until they are covering Eddie up to his chest. He shakes a couple of pills into his hand, offering them to Eddie with the water.

“Seems like you definitely got Christopher’s virus.”

“Perks of parenting,” Eddie mutters around a wince, the pills grating against his throat. He hands off the cup, sighing contentedly when Buck smooths a cool palm to his forehead.

“You should save yourself. This thing apparently moves fast.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie grabs Buck’s wrist and pulls his hand away, a tight frown on his lips.

“Buck, you have a shift in a few hours. You need-”

“Bobby took me off the schedule, too. At least for today. I’ve been instructed to call him later to update him on how you and Christopher are.”

“And you agreed?”

“Someone has to make sure you and Chris are okay,” Buck says as if it’s the most obvious thing and the world and equally the easiest decision he’s ever made, and Eddie shakes his head.

“No, Buck, you really don’t have to... What are you doing?”

Buck’s just kicked his shorts off across the room, and he’s setting an alarm on his phone as he crawls into the empty side of the bed.

“Okay, I’ve got an alarm set for 6 to check Christopher’s temperature, and I’ll wake you at 7 to check you over.”

“Buck-”

Ignoring Eddie, Buck drops his phone on the night stand and cuts out the light, snuggling into the bed with a low sigh.

“Evan.”

“Shh,” Buck shushes, patting blindly until his palm cups over Eddie’s mouth. “I’m sleeping.”

“You’ll get sick.” Eddie mumbles, slapping Buck’s hand away.

“Okay? I don’t know if you remember, but I got a clean bill of health from the hospital, so bring it.”

“You’re so dumb,” Eddie sighs, and Buck laughs, blindly reaching around to pat Eddie’s too-warm cheek.

“Sleep, loser.”

#9-1-1 #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fox #9-1-1 fox #Buddie #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #sickfic #fanfic #prompt #my writing #my 911 writing #christopher diaz

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