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sharkpupsblog · 1 year

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😈 Brand New Person ‼️ PART (3/6) Revelation.

A Dark Rider and Dark Rider! Aideen! GN! Reader fic!

Hi!!! Ik I said this would have three parts but this . Is not the end 😈 I’m still writing! And you guys voted for the really angsty ending so really angsty it is! I got asked if I would write both endings and tbh I’m . Not sure? Both r good but I don’t really know if I will write both… If I do end up writing the other I will reblog it as an extra part! 🙏🙏🙏 also i am still on the browser . 😭😭😭 I don’t like this at all but it’s ok I’m slowly getting the hang of editing and posting on here 😭 hoping the bug on the app is fixed soon. 😭😭😭 anyways enjoy this silly part!!!

Summary: You and Anne fight and she reveals something to you that changes everything. Warnings: writings of bl00d and wounds and talks of explosion and d34th caused by it.

Anne loved you, you were her friend, so what she had to do next would hurt her more than it would hurt you. You watched as the woman bent her knees to her chest. You wondered if she was trying to protect herself from the punch you were about to land on her. What Anne was doing became clear a few seconds later when she kicked you right in the gut sending you stumbling backwards. You kept your balance not wanting to fall because you knew that if you did Anne would have an upper hand. You gasped and coughed as the pain didn’t allow you to breathe now you knew how Anne felt when you kicked her in the chest. The Soul Rider stood up debating fight or flight… She chose flight. She needed you to know that despite the kick to the gut she gave you, you were still her friend. She hoped her refusal to fight would make you stop trying to fight her. You watched as she ran past you trying to get to her friends. You grit your teeth as you took a painful breath in. You looked to your horse who stood nearby pointing to Anne. Your steed understood perfectly what you were asking of them without words. They neighed running after Anne, and when they got close to the woman, they grabbed her vest throwing her down to the ground. Your horse watched as you recovered and rushed to the Soul Rider not wanting her to get up. Anne didn’t get a chance to stand you got to her before she could even dare to think of taking a step. She huffed when you held her down going wide eyed as she saw you try to punch her again. You winced when she moved to the side. You punched the ground instead of her face. Anne was really giving you a tough time, and making you look like a fool she wasn’t an easy enemy you underestimated her. The embarrassment and anger made your cheeks burn red. While you were distracted with the pain in your knuckles and the embarrassment you felt, Anne threw a punch of her own. She hit you on the cheek making you let go off her, and she decided to kick you again this time on your left side making you fall onto your right. She really didn’t want to fight you, but it was clear you weren’t going to stop attacking her, so she had to fight back. Anne got to her knees quick, and you huffed as she held you down on the ground. She was angry and covered in dirt and grass you had never seen her this angry or dirty before. The part of you that still cared for her felt scared at the sight of her anger, but the new you also felt threatened. You gave her an angry look of your own “get off me!” you yelled at her raising your hand trying to claw her.

You managed to finally land a hit clawing her cheek and her nose. Drops of blood dripped down Anne’s face she shook her head looking back down at you. She bared her teeth showing her anger she looked like a wolf “why are you doing this!?” She saw you move your hand from the corner of her eye. The leader kneed your stomach holding you down with one hand, so she could hold your arms down with her other not wanting to be clawed again. “I’m your friend!” Anne’s eyes were getting glossy. “I’m your friend damn you!” You squirmed underneath her trying to get away “my friend?!” You laughed not believing what she was saying “you left me!” You continued to try to get away, but Anne was too strong, the leader’s anger and adrenaline must be giving her more strength. You watched as her face went from angry to confused. “Left you?” She stopped yelling you felt her release some of her strength you could get away now! You were about to make the move that would free you, but Anne spoke before you could move “you died.” You blinked when you felt drops fall on your cheek at first you thought it was blood from the leader’s wounds, but what fell on your cheek were her tears. She was crying… She said your name soft and caring like she used to say it when you were friends. The way she said your name made your gaze soften “we saw you die in the explosion we didn’t leave you we came back for you… And you were dead…” Anne watched through a blurry vision as you went wide eyed, and you looked away from her looking anywhere but her. You never died obviously and Katja told you that your friends had left you. She told you that as soon as the explosion happened everyone ran off, but Anne said different? You were confused and scared you didn’t know which story was real. You looked back to Anne seeing her cry “we never left you” she whispered to you “we love you we would have never left you.” For a second Anne thought you would calm and come with her and the others, but you shoved her off you. The Soul Rider got ready for another fight, but it never came you stood up looking at her “you’re lying.” You said through gritted teeth “you’re lying!” Anne frowned “why would I lie?” She really had no reason to lie to you, and you knew that, and the fact scared you more. You shook your head backing away from her. Who do you believe now? Anne or Katja? the Soul Rider stood up resisting the urge to rub at her scratches “come with me.” She said letting out a quiet sob “please” you thought about it wanting to know the truth, but before you could decide you heard your name be called. You looked behind you seeing Sabine on Khaan “come on!” She was looking behind you both, and you looked behind Anne seeing the rest of the Soul Riders coming your way. You panicked what should you do now? You looked to Sabine then back to Anne who mouthed “please” to you. You shook your head calling your horse, and you got on them, quickly riding away with Sabine. Anne groaned kicking the ground in frustration as you rode away with the Dark Rider. Alex got to Anne first, and she looked shocked “was that-“ Alex did not believe what she had seen. The user of the lightning circle held back tears as the guilt she felt from indirectly causing your death hit her right in the gut. Anne looked to the woman giving her a nod confirming that it was indeed you. Alex was shocked about you, but her shock changed subjects as she saw the claw marks on the leader’s face. “Did Sabine do that?” Alex got another shock as Anne told her that “No, Sabine didn’t do it… They did” the woman sighed reaching up to touch the claw marks.

Alex watched as Anne flinched the wounds stinged upon being touched. Now that the danger was gone Anne’s adrenaline was slowly starting to go away, and she was really feeling the after effects of the fight. Lisa and Linda got to Anne a few seconds after Alex. Lisa quickly got off of Starshine going straight to Anne to heal her wounds she had questions, but she could ask them later right now she needed to heal her friend. Linda sat on Meteor confused she had the same question everyone had in mind, and she opened her mouth finally asking it “how are they alive?” The whole team saw you die they all found you in the valley amongst the smoke they went to your funeral. No one could answer Linda’s question everyone was just as confused and as lost as she was. The team stood in Goldenhills talking about what to do next. While the Soul Riders planned their next move you and Sabine caught a boat back to the Oil Rig and things weren’t going well for you.

TY FOR READING!!! :D also omg another cliffhanger??? I am sooooo evil 😈😈😈

#ssoblr #sso #starstableonline #sabinesso #katjasso #mentioned #lindachandasso #annevonblyseensso #alexcloudmillsso #lisapetersonsso #sharkpupsblogwrites!‼️🗣#lookingforssomoots💔

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spiritsoulandbody · 7 months

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#DailyDevotion Can Christians Pray This? It Doesn't Sound Very Nice.

#DailyDevotion Can Christians Pray This? It Doesn't Sound Very Nice. Psalm 94 God of vengeance; O LORD, God of vengeance, shine! 2Rise, Judge of the world, give the proud what they deserve. 3How long, O LORD, how long will the wicked rejoice? 4Gushing and talking boldly, all who do wrong brag about themselves. 5They trample on Your people, O LORD, and make Your own suffer. 6They kill the widow and the stranger and murder orphans, 7saying, “The LORD doesn't see it; Jacob's God doesn't even notice it.” Gee Psalmist, that doesn't sound very Christian. Jesus, however, prayed this prayer too. We can pray this prayer. It is asking God to do what He said He would do. God is patient and long-suffering with the wicked, not wanting any to perish but wanting all to repent and inherit eternal life. But there is coming a day of judgment upon the earth. The day is set. God's people since the beginning of creation have been calling mankind to repent. Israel was called to call the nations to repent. John the Baptist and Jesus have called the world to repent. Jesus commissioned the Church to call the world to repent and be saved. We have warned the world, turn from your wicked ways and trust in Jesus to escape the terrible day of the LORD. They think we are unloving and unchristian doing that. God, the LORD, is a God of vengeance. This isn't just for the Old Testament. God has shown His love for us in His Son, Jesus Christ. Those who refuse this love and go and do all their wicked hearts want to do will eventually experience God's wrath since they despised God's love. So the Church joins with Jesus in praying this Psalm. We too cry out with the martyrs under the alter, “How long will the wicked rejoice?” The wicked of the world, we have seen them exposed and become all the more bolder against Christians, at least here in the United States, taking pride in their sin and parading it before the world. They have caused much suffering among Christians here. Other wicked people have caused the LORD's people to suffer in other parts of the world. All the wicked, no matter their peculiar sin, sin and think the LORD doesn't see it or notice because the LORD is being patient with them. But God's judgment will fall upon them one day, quickly and swiftly. Even in the midst of that, they will not repent but curse God. 8You mindless ones among the people, understand; you fools, when will you get wise? 9He planted the ear — can't He hear? He formed the eye — can't He see? 10He disciplines nations — can't He correct? He teaches people — doesn't He know? 11The LORD knows that what man thinks is nothing. Well that doesn't sound very nice or winsome either, psalmist. Where do you get off calling these people mindless and fools? (I ask this sarcastically) Can you believe some Christians actually respond like this. It's like they never have read the bible or they just skip all the parts they don't like. We as Christians are to call the mindless and foolish people of the world to understand. We are called to be faithful to Jesus and call the people of the world, the people we meet who are sinning, to turn from their sin and to turn to Jesus for the forgiveness of their sins and a new life in Christ. God had created them with ears to hear and eyes to see. Yet, they are too blind to truly recognize the acts of God in the world which are calling them to repentance. As it is written in Revelation 19:9 “When they were badly burned, they blasphemed the name of God, Who controlled these plagues, and they did not repent to give Him glory.” And again, Rev. 16:11 “People gnawed their tongues in anguish, llcursed the God of heaven for their pains and their sores but did not repent of what they had done.” The LORD has taught the nations through the Church to correct and discipline the nations. He knows what man thinks is nothing. What He thinks is all that matters. Conform your mind to Christ and how He thinks, turn from sin and turn to Him and live. Heavenly Father, grant Your Church boldness to call the world to repentance so they may live and escape Your judgment. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article

#Christ #Christianity #devotion #faith #GodofVengeance #Jesus #LCMS #Lutheran #Messiah #vengeance

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gepm251-blog · 8 months

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Still haven't cried cause I don't think I'm even heartbroken,

gave up on you as soon as the tenth time was truly over,

to find that your name is the only part that's true,

whatever girl it was four years and I remember two.

And the two were my first love and my first broken heart,

that one should always cherish even if they hurt.

But every pain and every joy was just your master plan,

and the gods do not take pride just cause I did not run,

For dumping my iron shield of goodness on the battlefield

Was what my people truly and dearly clearly wished for me

For the battle that you made of me was not of glory,

Just of nonsense, paper griefs and a tattered story.

To keep my eyes on you must have been your joy and terror,

So now I cry for my past self and her wasted effort.

Still haven't cried the revelation came a bit too late,

My affection and my trust not even in the waste,

But I'm rewriting every second with the pen of truth,

As I've healed from my depression I'm no more a fool.

#lgbtq #queer #ace #asexual #exgf #health #poetry?#turns out she lied even to her childhood friends #like...she has no dead brother #her family is nice #she is perfectly healthy #her relatives too #I don't think she wanted a relationship with me #just the attention so she found having me around annoying and it showed #lol

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angelfic · 2 years

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— FURRY LITTLE SECRET

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: you find out remus has been keeping a huge secret from you, and only you.

warnings: mentions of bruises/wounds, best friends to lovers, shitty writing again sorry!

author's note: i wrote this in one night from 1-6am and I’m certain it shows so apologies for the writing, here’s a little remus piece ♡

You were going to kill Remus Lupin.

Figuratively, of course, since you were kind of hopelessly in love with him since your second year at Hogwarts when he helped you get a book from the top shelf and you bonded over it being a shared favourite. But you digress.

He was meant to be your best friend. You like to think you were at least a close second to the marauders. But after your recent revelations, you doubted he even considered you a friend at all. Godric, you’re not an idiot! Sirius and James should definitely know this, considering you tutor them before every major exam (even though you always swear it’s the last time you’re going to do this, they know you don’t mean it).

You thought Remus knew you weren’t a fool too, but apparently his very obvious signs of being a werewolf were supposed to go right past you. Really, he goes missing once a month for two nights and turns up bruised and battered the next day and you’re meant to believe it was prank planning gone wrong. Sure, James, Sirius and Peter turn up with a few scratches themselves, but it’s never as bad as Remus. You wish you could just be angry with him, but images of how he turns up to the Great Hall after each transformation only tug at your heart in the most painful way possible and you think back to how worried you get.

That doesn’t mean you forgive him in the slightest. Especially since you thought you were closer to him than your dormmate and best friend Lily Evans. That, and the jealousy that claws at your stomach.

She hadn’t meant to let it slip. She hadn’t even said a word at first.

“Lily, don’t you find it strange that the best pranksters in the school conveniently have an ‘accident’ at the same time each month?” you ask, demonstrating air quotes to emphasise just how ridiculous they sound. Lily stays silent, offering you a casual shrug. The increased force of her pen digging into the paper sharply contrast this movement. “And don’t you think it’s weird that Remus is always in the worst condition and how they’re always referring to his ‘furry little problem’?”

“Really, Y/N, I wouldn’t look too much into it!” Lily insists, shaking her head. Her eyes still don’t meet yours. “I think it’s just your feelings for him clouding your judgment and getting you all worked up.”

You scoff, indignant and ball up your piece of paper, chucking it at her. She dodges it with all the skill of a girl who’s had to dodge hundreds of papers thrown by James Potter to get her attention. “How can you use that against me?” you pout, not denying it. Once you’re past her attempt to throw you off, her nonchalant attitude towards your very obvious hinting starts to become clear.

You jump off your bed with a gasp and point to her, causing her head to snap up with startled eyes. “You know that Remus is a werewolf, don’t you?”

“How do you know!” she exclaims before realising what she’s done and slapping a hand over her mouth. Her next words are muffled and barely audible. “Ignore I said that.”

You blink.

“Who else knows?” you whisper, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

Lily looks like she’s about to cry when she responds, probably because your face is devoid of any emotion. “Oh, Y/N, please don’t be upset. James accidentally let it out once when I was there, only him, Peter and Sirius know!”

“Only,” you swallow harshly, nodding at her words. You aren’t angry at her. It wasn’t her secret to share. “And I was in the dark this whole time. Does he not trust me?”

“What?” Lily asks, alarmed. “Of course he does, Y/N. This is just- He just-“

“Doesn’t think I’ll be able to keep my mouth shut about this apparently,” you deadpan, abandoning your homework on your unmade bed, making your way to the door. You ignore Lily’s noises of protest, mumbling some vague threat of violence that you’re not even sure is coherent as you storm off.

You practically fly down the stairs to the common room, thanking Merlin that the marauders are the only current occupants.

Sirius is the first to notice you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greets, but his smile instantly drops when he realises you clearly aren’t here to hang out. “Uh oh.”

Remus lifts his head at this, as do the other boys, and gets up to walk towards you with furrowed brows and a concerned look on his face, clearly unaware that the anger is directed towards him.

“Not another step, Lupin,” you seethe, whipping out your wand to point it at him.

“Woah, Y/N, what are you doing?” James yelps, despite the wand being nowhere him, and jumps to his feet along with Peter and Sirius.

Remus stops in his tracks and raises a brow. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

Leave it to Remus to be calm and concerned about you when you’re the one threatening him with a wand.

“How long have these lot known? And how long has Lily known?” you state, hand trembling. Remus frowns for a second, confused, until realisation dawns on his face and then smoothes out so he’s staring at you, expressionless.

“How did you find out?” he asks, quietly.

This infuriates you even more. “Find out? I’m not an idiot, Remus. The only explanation is that you’re a werewolf, unless you secretly have terrible, wound-inflicting period cramps once a month.”

This draws a snicker from James, but he shuts up as soon as you send him a glare.

“Godric, Prongs,” mutters Sirius. “Don’t anger it. You’re practically asking for a wand up the ar-“

“Boys,” you cut him off, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Can you please leave the room for a minute?”

They scramble towards their dorms, not getting away fast enough, until it’s just you and Remus and the crackling flames of the Gryffindor common room fireplace.

“How could you not tell me, Remus?” you finally say after what feels like hours of silence. “Do you really not trust me?”

“You know that’s not it,” Remus groans, looking like he’s in pain. “You’re the one person who I didn’t want to see me differently. Like… like a monster. In disgust, just like you’re looking at me now.”

Your breath catches in your throat, not expecting those to be the words that come out of his mouth. Taking a step forward, you take a deep breath.

And then you whack Remus’ arm as hard as you can.

“Ow! What was that for?” Remus yelps, shielding himself when you raise your hand again, then reaching out to take a hold of your wrist. “Stop! Stop, please tell me why I’m being assaulted!”

“You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met in my life, Remus Lupin,” you breathe, grabbing his tie.

“What do you m-mmph,” the words die on his lips when you pull him to you and press your own to his. You don’t allow yourself to relax into the kiss once you’ve realised what you’ve just done.

Pulling away from Remus, you begin to panic slightly when you see his shocked expression. That is, until you remember why you just attacked him with your mouth.

“You are not a monster, you absolute dolt,” you declare, your tone absolute. “And that wasn’t disgust, it was anger and hurt. You didn’t tell me you were going through hell every month and let me believe it was some stupid pranks! And even then I was worrying my arse off for you, because I love you.”

“You can’t,” Remus chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I could hurt you or-“

“You do not get to tell me what to do or feel and you could never hurt me. Ever,” you assure him, fiercely, before gently placing your hands either side of his face and making him look at you. “I don’t care that you’re a werewolf, and you’ll never be able to change my mind.”

“That’s true, you’re the most stubborn person I know. It’s terribly irritating,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch. “And one of the things I love about you. B-because I do. I love you, even though I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up, Lupin,” you say through a smile that you can’t keep off your face.

And then you kiss him again.

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin scenarios #remus lupin #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin fanfiction #andrew garfield x reader #remus #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario

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quinntheebrain · 2 years

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𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽

𝓘 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓘'𝓶 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓰𝓸𝓷' 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓫𝔂

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮?

𝓑𝓸𝔂, 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓮, 𝓼𝓸 𝓘'𝓶 𝓸𝓾𝓽

♡︎Pairing. Bonten!Rindou x fem!reader (ft. Terano South)

♡︎Summary. Rindou loves to play games with your heart and you've had enough.

♡︎Word Count. 2.1k

⚠︎︎Content + Warnings. Toxic relationships, Light physical violence, Mentions of blood, Explicit language, Smut/NSFW, Minors DNI.

⚠︎︎A/N. This is for @gabzlovesu 'f*ck love collab'.

Rindou’s hands glide down her back, squeezing her ass before he places a sweet kiss on her lips. Your head tilts to the side, your eyes are filled with longing. If you were to close them, you’d be met with the beautiful pipe dream in which Rindou is holding you like that publicly, laughing as he showers you with kisses. But, you can’t close your eyes or even look away. Your brain won’t allow you. It wants you to burn this image into your mind. So, all you can do is watch from across the room with a grip so tight on your glass you believe it might break.

“He’s not worth it, girl,” your friend whispers in your ear and grabs your wrist before you can make your way to his VIP section.

You want to tell her she is wrong. That to you, Rindou is worth the tears and pain you feel. He is worthy of your anger and most importantly, he is worthy of your love. But, you are defeated and it would sound foolish to defend him now. So, instead, you say “Yeah, you’re right,” which is a lie and you know it.

Rindou is a master of torture, always satisfied by the screams of his enemies. He is the same in love — sadistic and ruthless to the core. He revels in your broken expression. Your glossy eyes and quivering lips are so beautiful under the club’s blue lights. You turn around for one final glance and when your eyes meet his, he laughs. It only adds gasoline to the nearly suppressed flame. You snatch your wrist away from your friend, who is shocked but in no mood to stop you. In fact, she thinks Rindou deserves whatever he has coming. Though she wishes you’d save it for another time, she can’t help but smile as you stomp toward the purple-haired bastard.

“What the fuck is so funny, Rindou?” the words leave your mouth before you’ve fully stepped into Bonten’s private section. Ran immediately shifts in his seat, watching attentively along with Sanzu who is too high to take anything seriously.

He pulls the girl closer and the corner of his lips tugs into a smile. “I really have no idea what you mean.” Rindou likes watching your blood boil. In all honesty, your hot-headed temper turns him on. But, this is about more than making you angry. Rindou is teaching you a lesson. You’ll never be his one and only — no matter what you do, no matter how much you beg.

“People have feelings, Rin,” your eyes burn and your chest is heavy. You are too emotional and this is too embarrassing, but you can’t stop yourself from talking, “I have feelings and you constantly shit on them. You knew I was gonna be here and you thought it would be cute to parade this bitch around in my face.”

“Don’t call me—,”

“Girl, please,” you sigh. “Shut the fuck up.”

“(Y/N), you need to relax,” Rindou’s voice is disrespectfully calm. Such a contrast to yours that you almost seem unhinged. He leans in, “you’re making a fool of both of us in front of important clients,” he’s irritated as if he didn’t cause this. “We’re not even together.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Fuck you.” It’s almost instinctual the way your hand flies toward his face, the cup still held firmly in your grasp. The glass breaks against his cheek, cutting his face which happens to look so handsome tonight. His eyes are the prettiest purple and you can’t help but smile as they turn black with anger.

When the girl held in his arm screams bloody murder, your friend tugs at your arm. “Let’s go, bitch,” the urgency in her voice isn’t lost on you, “Before they get security.”

“Learn to control your bitches, Haitani,” Sanzu slurs then turns to whisper something in Ran’s ear, and they both laugh. You take a deep breath in and by the time you exhale you realize Sanzu isn’t worth it. Offering him a simple ‘fuck you’, you allow your friend to pull you away from Rindou who currently has blood gushing from a cut under his eye.

When the metallic taste settles on his tongue, Rindou is seething. It’s not the first time you’ve laid hands on Rindou, but it is the first time you’ve drawn blood. He removes his arm from the waist of his pawn, but that doesn’t stop her from pressing flimsy napkins against his cheeks. She is also mistaken, thinking that Rindou actually cares about her and doting on him will make her his favorite. But, she will never be. She is irritating and she has served her purpose. He pushes her away and follows you toward the club’s exit despite the advice of his brother and friends.

He can hear you laughing, though if he listened a little closer — paid attention like you’d begged and begged — he would hear the pain you’re masking. Rindou is by your side before you or your friend notice him, a grip on your arm so tight that it cuts off your circulation. “You’re fucking crazy,” he spits.

“Get your hands off of me,” it takes everything in you not to scream from the pain. You can feel your bones shifting under his weight — how he wishes it was your neck.

“I should fucking -,”

“That’s not how I taught you to touch a lady, Haitani,” the voice is so smooth and so familiar that Rindou loosens his grip. You want to drop to your knees in relief, but the strong arm around your waist keeps your knees from collapsing. “You okay?” You nod, but he does not let you go. His fingers settle on your hips as he smiles at Rindou.

“Fuck off, South,” Rindou’s voice remains confident despite the look in his eyes. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Terano South, Rindou’s former commander and one of the strongest men in Japan. The only person whose strength trumps South’s is Mikey, Rindou’s current boss. Rindou wishes Mikey would appear now, but the head of Bonten rarely attends events like this. Rindou is lucky because South is not concerned about him or Bonten. No, the man only cares about you, the pretty girl he’d been watching all night.

Rindou watches as South leans down to whisper in your ear. You nod at whatever he says and follow him away from the club, your best friend trails closely behind. Rindou does not call out or run after you. He lets you walk away, held in another man’s arms. Because even though it hurts, he knows you’re his and you will be back.

The night plays on repeat in your head as you bat your faux lashes and any guilt you feel immediately dissipates from your body. Rindou Haitani has never cared about and as far as you know, he never will.

“Do you need anything?” Japan’s very own Terano South draws you from your thoughts. His fingers trace your arm, falling to the Cartier bracelet he gifted you at the beginning of your date. “You look tense,” the words linger with some underlying meaning and he smiles when you shift in your seat.

South has been toying with you all night. From the moment he greeted you at your door until now, at the restaurant he rented out, South has done nothing but openly express his desire for you. It’s not overwhelming or annoying. He’s just good with words. Almost too good. But after years of indecision and a lack of reassurance, it feels nice.

“You’re still stressing about Rindou.” he moves to join you on your side of the booth. “I can change that. He’s a bitch anyway. He doesn’t deserve you.”

He doesn’t deserve you. The words are bittersweet, but the more you hear them, the less you worry about the man who held your heart in the palm of his hand for so long. Instead, you think of the possibilities of a life with a man who does deserve you. Who will love you and never make you question your worth.

“And you do?”

“Eh. I know I can treat you better,” he shrugs, hands pushing your silk skirt until the material bunches at your waist. “But, I’ll let you decide,” his yellow eyes look like sunshine, blinding you with his gaze. He’s silently asking you for permission and he wastes no time yanking your panties to the side the moment you grant it.

“South.” it’s pathetic — the way you moan when a single finger ghosts over your clit — but he thinks you sound so cute. Once he hears his name fall from your lips, South can no longer keep up his tender facade. You falling apart underneath his fingers, it’s the only thing that will sate his desire.

There’s a merciless rhythm to the way his fingers circle the sensitive nub that makes your back arch as you grip the leather seat. He laughs as your hips buck and you grind against his fingers, “So needy,” he whispers like you’re not the only two people in the restaurant. “Fuck,” his moan matches your own as he finally sinks his fingers into your aching cunt.

The shiver that runs down your spine feels like your phone vibrating against the wooden table. Your eyes shoot open in shock. Fuck, your phone is really vibrating against the table.

South glances over, a devilish smirk once he sees Rindou’s name appear on your screen. “Answer it,” his voice is low as he dips his head down to attach his lips to the soft spot on your neck.

“Fuck, baby. You look so good.” Rindou says once you finally lift the camera. You ignore him and look at yourself in the tiny box in the corner. You want to be sure South isn’t visible from the angle you’re holding the phone. “I’m over that little stunt you pulled at the club the other night. I have this meeting in a few minutes but you’re coming to see me later, right?” Rindou licks his lips.

“No,” your voice cracks as South nibbles on your skin. He is not playing fair. “I’m done, Rindou. You really pissed me off,” it’s a miracle you were able to complete that sentence despite your shaky breathing.

South strums along your core like a skilled harpist, each pluck of your strings creating beautiful notes that you elicit so effortlessly. Then South plays a note that’s familiar to Rindou’s trained ear and just like at the club, you can see darkness wash over his lilac eyes. “Who are you with?”

As if he’s been waiting for this moment, South snatches your phone and smiles into the camera. “Rindou, how’d you manage to let a pretty thing like this slip through your fingers?” you whine in the background as South picks up the pace, curled fingers massaging your g-spot with every move. “God, she’s so wet. I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.”

Rindou laughs. It’s better than hopping in his car and driving to your location, which is what he really wants to do. “I see what this is,” the laughter grows louder as he stops to think carefully about what he wants to say next. “You gon’ turn into a ho trying to get revenge. That’s sad.” Rindou’s voice is calm but the grip on his phone is deadly.

“Aw, you jealous, Rin?” South teases as he passes the phone back to you, uninterested in talking any longer unless it’s to you or your pretty pussy. The tall man settles on the floor, head between your legs. You can feel South moan as he kisses your cunt — wet and sticky just for him.

“Jealous,” Rindou scoffs, though that’s exactly what he is. He’s envious to hear you moaning because of another man. To see you so undone for someone other than him. “No, but I’m disappointed that she betrayed me. Fucking slut.”

Betrayal. If that’s what Rindou wants to call this then you won’t argue. If he wants to call you a fucking slut, you won’t argue. If he is disappointed in you, you do not care. Because to you, this is not revenge, it is freedom. You’re no longer chained and bound by his false promises and emotions. It feels good. No more will his silly games send you into week-long emotional spirals, thinking you’ll never be worthy of romantic love. Never again will the master of sadism use you for his enjoyment.

“Whatever,” South grunts before the flat of his tongue glides along your folds. “Tell him bye, baby,” he says in between short and quick flicks of his tongue. “So you can focus on me.”

You nod your head feverishly, “Bye, Haitani.” you say with a smile. The use of his surname sends a pain through Rindou’s chest, but before he can express himself, you end the call.

#f*ck love collab #rindou x fem!reader #rindou haitani #south terano x fem!reader #tr smut #south terano #tokrev smut #quinn writes

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mc-lukanette · 3 years

Note

*crawls over completely exhausted* No Canon Lukanette... Need fluff... maybe salt too...

Luka gave Marinette's parents a smile as he waited for Marinette to come downstairs, though to say he was concerned was an understatement. He and Marinette hadn't been dating for long, but he knew something was wrong due to her song singing even more stress-filled notes than usual. He wanted to talk to her about it, but also wanted her to open up to him herself when she was ready.

Wanting to focus on smiling for her when she came down, Luka shook off the thought and stared up at Marinette's trap door. Seeing that she hadn't come down yet - understandable given that she had no idea he was there - he pulled out his phone and navigated to her contact. However, just before he could tap on it, there was an abrupt, loud, and unusual noise coming from Marinette's room, followed by the sound of Marinette yelping and presumably hitting the floor.

Luka gasped. “Marinette!”

Not even thinking, he hurried upstairs, phone clutched tightly in his hand as he pushed the trap door up and let himself in.

Over a dozen tiny kwami were speeding around her room, each with distinct voices and one of whom he recognized as Sass. He'd initially thought that the Liberty was chaos, and it was, but there was something different about fifteen little melodies all moving around simultaneously and wreaking havoc. They hadn't even seemed to notice that he was there.

There was also a ladybug-patterned ellipsoid lying on the table in the middle of it all, though Luka's eyes fixated mostly on Marinette lying there on the floor, now staring at him with wide eyes as he took in the whole situation.

"L-luka!" she greeted, voice forced. "W-what a surprise! I mean, you must be surprised at my toy collection! See, there's—there’s this magnetism thing going on that lets them seem like they're flying and—"

She was cut off as one of the kwami accidentally dropped something to the floor, making her flinch from the loud noise. Even the sound all around the room was overwhelming, the little beings ignoring Marinette’s panic in favor of playing with her things.

That's when the tears started, subtly at first until Marinette let out a whimper.

Ignoring all the revelations he just went through, Luka hurried to Marinette's side, helping her up and checking her for injuries. "Marinette, are you okay—"

"You know!" she cut in, running her fingers anxiously through her hair. "You're not supposed to know!"

He took a breath, recognizing that he was going to have to deal with these revelations now. "It's okay. I promise, I'd never—"

"No, it's not okay!" she argued, throwing her hands out. "I've been guardian for just a few days and this—this isn't—! I already—and now the kwami are out—!" She slumped and dropped her gaze to the floor, ashamed. "I'm a bad guardian. I'm a bad girlfriend. I couldn't protect you from knowing!"

"Marinette, you're not a bad girlfriend. You—" He paused, something occurring to him. "Protect me...?"

He hadn't been Viperion for long, but Luka remembered the importance given to secret identities. He understood that it was a form of protecting oneself and one's loved ones, meaning that a permanent hero like Ladybug needed to keep hers a secret the most.

"Is..." His stomach twisted in knots as he remembered all the dates she'd had to either miss or postpone. He bent down, trying to look at her face, and when he still couldn't, he gently cupped her face and encouraged her to make eye contact with him. "Is that why—"

"Yes! That's why I have to keep cutting our dates short, and not being there for you, and not going on patrols with Chat, and why I haven't had time to take those stupid Adrien pictures down! I can't do anything right!"

At some point, the volume of her voice had finally drawn the attention of the kwami, who all stared at her like children watching their parent having a breakdown and feeling awkward about it. Luka paid them no mind, his heart breaking as he processed all the information Marinette was telling him while all he could do was pull her into a hug and just hold her.

"I'm sorry I found out like this," he admitted, running his hand up and down along her back. "I'm glad that I know but I would've wanted you to share that secret with me instead."

"I-I'm sor—"

"Please don't apologize, Marinette," he gently begged. "I hate hearing songs with meanings I don't agree with. You don't have anything to feel sorry for. If I had the ladybug earrings instead, I would've had to do the same thing as you, and you wouldn't have asked me to apologize, would you?"

She looked up at him, expression pained and full of so many burdens that he couldn't believe he hadn't seen before. He brushed her fringe aside and rested his palm against her forehead, concerned about how pale she seemed and worried that she'd stress herself to a cold.

She leaned into his touch, then further until he was forced to move his hand away. She buried her face in his chest, surprising him as she hugged him tightly. Her song turned from the harsh wail of an electric guitar to the mellow tones of an acoustic, and he sighed in a mixture of relief and happiness.

"...Luka," she murmured, lightly clutching whatever fabric she could reach. "The movie. We'll miss it at this rate."

He hummed, half in response to what she said and half in content. "You're so much more important than the movie."

His heart skipped a beat when she actually giggled, her grip on him loosening and the hug turning to something she did because she wanted to, not for comfort. "More important than Jagged Stone?"

He chuckled, burying his face into her hair as he returned the hug. "Always. Even my idol can't compete with my muse."

She leaned further into him, her melody picking up hints off a bell chiming happily. She almost knocked him over from how much of her weight she was putting on him, but he didn't protest and even enjoyed it; it meant she was trusting him with her secrets instead of shouldering the weight herself.

"I know I couldn't have known," he began, "but I'm sorry that our dates took up your time. I never wanted to cause you any stress."

"But I wanted to!" she insisted, jolting up to look at him. "It's just—it's been a lot, and—"

He placed two fingers against her lips before she could start rambling. "Marinette, I don't need to go on normal dates to have fun with you."

She blinked, waiting for him to move his fingers before asking, "Y-you don't?"

He smiled. "Of course not. I can hang out here while you work, while you do important stuff."

With a small, amused snort, she pulled away from him and wiped any stray tears away. "You're 'important stuff.'"

He grinned like the love-struck fool that he was, then shrugged. "Well, I'll still be here anyway then, right?"

"That's true." She paused, glancing off to the side in consideration, then looked back at him as she asked, "in that case... would you help me with something?"

"Anything," he answered immediately.

She pointed, his gaze drawn to her wall full of Adrien pictures. "Like I said, I haven't had the time, and... I've been wanting to remodel forever."

He was more than happy to help, and there was a selfish part of him that considered it far better than any movie they could've seen.

—————

It took a bit more time than either of them anticipated to take down all of the images, but between the two of them, it wasn't a hard job. The biggest time-waster during the whole thing was Marinette's rambling, but Luka welcomed it wholeheartedly.

Due to not watching much TV, he honestly hadn't heard about what'd happened when Jagged Stone had been at the bakery and the camera crew had invaded Marinette's privacy, and he couldn't believe how much mental stress she must've gone through. After all, even though he and Juleka shared a room, there was still a divider for when they needed their privacy, so he wasn't unaware about how personal it was to have one's room recorded without their consent, even if nothing embarrassing got caught on camera.

It seemed cruel to know that Paris' supposedly lucky superhero was perhaps one of the unluckiest people he'd ever known.

Almost on cue, just when the last picture was down and Marinette was debating on what to do with them, her phone went off with a ringtone that sounded very much like danger. Looking over, there was a butterfly symbol flashing on the screen and Marinette's expression faltered at the sight of it.

"Akuma alert," she said flatly, with a pout that would've been cute had he not known what it meant. She hesitated, eyes flicking from him to her phone. "Um... look, I... I have to—"

"Go," he interrupted with a reassuring smile. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'll be here when you're done."

"But—" She frowned and glared at her phone, clearly knowing that she had to leave but not wanting to.

"I mean it, Marinette. It's okay."

She looked at him like she'd never heard those words from anyone else before, eyes vulnerable but fond. She gave him a nod, a brief smile flickering across her face before she turned away and rushed to the stairs. She shouted for her transformation on the way out and Luka watched as her clothes shifted into her ladybug-patterned bodysuit.

When she was completely gone, Luka felt a sudden unsteadiness and leaned against the table for support. It wasn't that he was shocked exactly to hear that Marinette was Ladybug, but he was still overloaded nonetheless.

As his hand rested on the table, he felt the heel of his palm brush something and looked down to see the pile of Adrien pictures next to him. It sent another rush through his body at the reminder that she'd asked him to help her take them down. He was dating her, sure, but he wasn't foolish enough to think that there were no lingering feelings for Adrien. He knew where she stood and he was okay letting her test the waters with him, as she did have feelings for him and who was he to complain if his crush wanted to date him? Besides, he couldn't help wanting to see if maybe it would truly make their bond stronger.

Looking at the wall now, clear of anything but the pink paint, he knew this was real and ended up wishing he'd brought his guitar.

Then, remembering the akuma alert on Marinette's phone, Luka pulled out his own and began to search, eventually finding what she already had: a direct link to watch streams and updates on whatever akuma or sentimonster shenanigans were going on. He knew well enough that he would only give himself anxiety from it, but he wanted to watch his girlfriend in action as a form of support.

Gosh, Ladybug was his girlfriend.

He took a deep breath to steady himself as he watched the footage, his eyes locked to the screen and only shifting when he felt various figures drawing close. He looked up to see that the kwami had all gathered around him, watching the screen closely.

"So..." the pig-looking kwami began, fiddling with their own paws like they knew they were being awkward. "Have you ever wanted to be a hero?"

There was a hiss off to the side, Sass cutting in with, "He already has me."

Luka wasn't feeling up to smile at that, debating with himself before sighing. "Marinette works really hard, and her song is full of sour notes right now," he said. Stepping away and heading for the chaise lounge, he sat down and added, "I hope you can figure out how to rewrite them."

The kwami all exchanged looks, some confused by the metaphor and others who perhaps understood but didn't know how to follow up on it. Luka didn't give them his attention, focusing on the akuma battle playing on his phone.

As he'd expected, it made him a little nervous actually seeing Ladybug in action due to now knowing it was his girlfriend fighting out there. He believed in her abilities and mentally cheered her on, but he just kept remembering all the akuma he'd known about and how stressful it had to have been.

Off to the side, some of the kwami joined forces to help pick up some of the items they'd previously dropped on the floor. It was only after Marinette's room looked as it did before that they properly joined Luka to watch the battle with him.

It was a start.

—————

The battle between Ladybug and the akuma (and Chat Noir was there he supposed) seemed to be getting into its final verse when Luka heard the sound of the trap door being grabbed and clicked open, making him jump. He was only able to whisper a, "Hide," so the kwami could act before Sabine peered inside the room and took a curious look around.

Apparently, they all thought that huddling against his back was a great hiding spot, and he could only smile sheepishly at Sabine while attempting to ignore the weird feeling.

"You're still here?" Sabine asked. "I thought you were going somewhere, and..." She raised a brow, looking around once more. "Where's Marinette?"

"Ah," Luka began, his mind rushing for an excuse, "we actually decided to have our date here instead. Marinette just went up to her balcony to grab something."

It didn't feel good to lie, though he also felt a sense of accomplishment in protecting Marinette's secret. Was this what Marinette dealt with all the time; having to lie to people even if she didn't want to?

Sabine glanced up briefly to where the balcony was, then back to him, slightly confused but rolling with it. "Alright. Do you two need anything?"

"No, ma'am. Thank you though," he replied, hoping it didn't sound forced.

Thankfully, Sabine nodded and left without asking any further questions, the kwami emerging and clinging to Luka while they peered at the now-closed trap door. Luka breathed a sigh of relief, then went back to watching the akuma battle on his phone.

The rest of the fight took a couple minutes, and all that was left to do afterward was wait for Ladybug to return. Once again, Luka wished he had his guitar, making a mental note to get all of his feelings out when he got home, as typical music apps just didn't do anything for him.

An expected "thump" eventually came from the balcony, and the kwami drifting away from Luka as Ladybug descended and landed on her bed. She saw Luka staring at her and initially flinched, but it was clearly a reflex from people seeing her as Ladybug where she shouldn't be, and she hurried down to meet with him afterward. Luka hopped to his feet, not hesitating to meet her halfway and envelop her in a hug, earning a squeak out of her.

"L-luka?"

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just... I got to think about everything you must've gone through without m—" He choked off, suddenly embarrassed, then corrected, "—someone to help you."

She blinked, then giggled and hugged him back. "You're my boyfriend. You're apologizing for hugging me and being worried about sounding selfish?" She nestled her face against his shoulder and he blushed at how warm she was. "Don't. I like it when you're a little selfish, Luka. It grounds me; makes me feel like you're not totally out of my league."

Luka scoffed, nuzzling his head against hers. "You're in a league all your own. I'm literally dating a superhero."

"Trust me, it's not as cool as it sounds."

"I disagree. I think you're really cool."

She blushed profusely. "H-hey..."

He chuckled. "By the way, your mom came to check up on us."

Ladybug gasped, then pulled back, eyes wide and concerned. She was clearly about to apologize, so he cut her off before she could.

"I told her that we were having our date here and that you were getting something from the balcony. Everything's alright."

Her shoulders eased. She let out a sigh of relief as her head fell back against his shoulder. "Thank you."

He hummed contently, resting his hand along her back and keeping it there. Then, realizing when Sabine came up earlier and might do it again, he reminded her, "You're still Ladybug."

"Huh? ...Oh!" she said, though with less panic than normal and unwilling to recoil from the happy spot she was in.

He heard the whisper of her de-transformation phrase and winced as the light engulfed her, slowly turning her back into Marinette. He felt the spandex under his hand turn into fabric and Marinette's breath against his skin as she exhaled.

A kwami that Luka deduced was Marinette's flew a small distance away, eyeing Luka warily and semi-critically. Luka didn't blame her - he wasn't supposed to know - but he also knew that it was far too late to change anything now, and there was no way he was going to abandon Marinette or pretend he knew nothing. He imagined that the kwami knew that too.

"...I'm Tikki," the kwami greeted finally. "It's nice to meet you officially, Luka."

Luka gave her a nod in return, then stiffened somewhat as Marinette squeezed him tighter, burying her face further against him like she truly cherished him.

"It's still a lot," she whispered. "Is it okay if you hug me a little longer?"

"Of course." Though, he paused for a moment before adding, "Would it be more comfortable for you if we move to your chaise?"

"Hm?" She pulled away just enough to look down and realize that they were still awkwardly standing at the bottom of the steps to her bed. "Oh! Yeah, I mean—I didn't even—"

"Hey." He tenderly cupped her cheek, offering a smile. "I didn't complain, did I?"

She looked briefly surprised, making him wonder just how much she'd had to apologize in the past. They slowly made their way over to the chaise lounge, Luka settling down and opening his arms for her so she could settle onto his lap and snuggle against him. He leaned back against the chaise, throwing his legs across the length of it, then wrapped an arm around Marinette to make her feel secure.

"This is nice. It's... um—" She peeked up at him, then grinned shyly. "—melodic? Is that what you'd call it?"

He couldn't stop himself from snorting.

Marinette blushed in embarrassment. "H-hey! I'm trying, okay?"

"I know." He took a strand of her hair in his hand and stroked it. "You always try, and I love that about you."

She let out a series of whines at that, but doesn't protest the compliment either. She nestled against his chest, keeping her face turned away enough to still talk to him without her voice being muffled.

"I just... want to know more about you, Luka," she told him. "You're so sweet and I felt awful having to ditch you. Didn't it bother you?"

He gave a one-armed shrug. "You were busy. I unders—"

"Luka."

He stopped, meeting her firm gaze and knowing that he wasn't getting out of this easily. He sighed, admitting, "...Yeah, it bothered me, but it wasn't because of you or that I didn't trust you. I... see—my dad..." He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that he'd never told anyone this story before. "I never knew who he was. I asked my mom so many times, but she never gave me an answer. Whenever you had to leave and lie to me, I..."

"Oh." She raised herself up more to meet him closer to eye level. "I'm so sorry—wait—sorry, you told me not to apologize—Sorry! I did it agai—ACK!"

He laughed, feeling warm and delighted by how much she cared about him and wanted him to feel secure in their relationship. He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance, wanting to nuzzle her for how cute she was being and just barely able to hold himself back.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you were looking out for me, but you deserve someone to look out for you too."

She pouted a bit at the heartfelt comment, then smiled and raised her hand to settle on his along her shoulder.

He hummed, pausing purposefully for effect before asking, "...So, what does the great guardian Marinette want to do now?"

"Oh my gosh, Luka."

He grinned, happy to compliment her until she was completely red. "How about the brave and heroic Ladybug then?"

"Luka."

He reached up to caress her cheek with his thumb. "But, if you ask me, I like the kind, sincere civilian Marinette best."

"LUKA!"

—————

The rest of their "date" passed by smoothly, Marinette's parents having left them alone so as to not interrupt anything. Marinette had idly brought up the idea that the movie might still be playing - just at a different time than they planned on going - but Luka brushed off the idea and insisted that he was happy there and didn't need to go on a "real" date with her to have fun, opting to leave it up to her.

And... yeah, neither of them were willing to leave their current position and exchange it for having to sit in different seats at a theater with other people around. They opted to just stare at the ceiling and talk, the kwami having respectfully retreated to Marinette's bed to give them privacy.

Talks of their past meetings and when she left to become Ladybug soon turned into a game of finishing Jagged Stone lyrics. Luka, either by being the bigger fan or just having an easier time remembering them, ended up winning in the end, though he couldn't have expected Marinette to follow up by immediately leaving his lap. He'd held back a whine at the sudden lack of warmth and wondered if maybe she'd been teasing him with some sort of punishment by going away.

But then she'd returned with a tiny pink gift box, and inside was a guitar pick necklace signed by Jagged Stone himself.

"He came into the bakery the other day and I had him sign it for you," she explained. Taking it out to fully present it to him, she asked, "Do...do you like it?"

"I love it, Marinette," he replied immediately, reaching out to feel the guitar pick and properly appreciate it. "I can have this?"

She smiled in response, holding the necklace out in a gesture that made his heart skip a beat, realizing that she was offering to put it on him herself. He leaned close, feeling the light brush of her fingers against his neck as she slipped it onto him. He silently hoped that it was durable because he was absolutely never taking it off.

Marinette's hands lingered on the string even when the necklace was fully on, Luka meeting her gaze to see that she was looking at him with all the love he'd ever dreamed of her offering him. He didn't say a word and neither did she, but with a light tug on his necklace, he was pulled towards her into a kiss. It was definitely too deep for their first but also so nice that neither of them cared, and not even the Ladybug revelation could outmatch his surprise at being so readily smooched.

Luka reached for the hand grabbing his necklace, Marinette letting go of it so they could thread their fingers together. His song was going crazy as she leaned forward, clearly wanting more from him and him being wonderfully helpless to resist her. He breathed her in, his other hand finding its place on her side. Her own hand rose up so her fingers could settle against the back of his neck, and he couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed by the sound he made when she started playing with his hair.

She didn't even pull away when their kiss broke, merely pressing her forehead to his while they each caught their breath. Despite the boldness she'd just displayed, she somehow couldn't maintain eye contact and ended up looking elsewhere while all he could do was stare at her in a daze.

"S-sor—" She paused, remembering again that he told her not to apologize. "I-I mean, I'm... not sorry? I—ah—remembered you saying that music is simpler than words, so I just—I thought that maybe I shouldn't ask you with words and just... play it instead?" Luka could feel the heat radiating from her blush as she hurriedly added, "Um... is that okay?"

He answered her with another kiss.

#type: story #story: oneshot #Flower Arrangement Shipping #episode: Truth #other: ml spoilers #((I may or may not have made that ending scene a little more passionate than it would be otherwise))#((out of pure spite.))#((You're welcome.))#Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

1K notes · View notes

ridiculously-over-obsessed · 2 years

Note

19 "Hold onto me"

Ooo I love this one, okay one mini fic coming right up!! 🥰💖

(To everyone else who’s sent a prompt in, I will get to them tomorrow/over the weekend!! But I plan on doing all of them so don’t worry!!)

Send me prompts!

(19) "Hold onto me"

Beca knew that this corporate retreat had been a bad idea. They were a music production company, why did they even need a team building retreat? But she was ‘obligated by contract’ apparently to attend and so... here she was. At the Lodge Of Fallen Leaves, which she was convinced was run by a blonde sadist (seriously, who didn’t believe in ladders?). On some insane obstacle course, or more specifically, off some insane obstacle course because she had fallen off a balance beam and tumbled down into the ditch next to it. Which, if it wasn’t mortifying enough, was deep enough to count more as a pit and Beca couldn’t even begin to attempt to get out because she was pretty sure that she had broken her ankle on the fall down.

Great.

Jussssst great.

“Hold on Beca, we’re getting our medic down to you as soon as we set up the abseiling gear!” Aubrey peered down at her as Beca scoffed lightly, shaking her head a little.

“Y’know... even if you don’t believe in ladders, they do exist, like that’s a cold hard fact!” Beca felt very much like Aubrey was about to tell her to put lotion on her skin by the way she was smiling dangerously at her.

“And if you did ‘believe’ in ladders...” God Beca hoped that Aubrey could see her air quotes from here, “I’d be out of here so much quicker.”

“Chloe will be down momentarily Beca.” There so much false sincerity in Aubrey’s voice Beca was amazed she wasn’t choking on it.

“Great...” Beca mumbled to herself as her ankle throbbed painfully again, “Trapped in a hole waiting for some medic to abseil her ass down here to haul me out like a baby in front of my coworkers. Best retreat ever.”

“Look out below!”

Beca glanced up to find herself staring at someone’s ass as it got ever closer to her. She blushed furiously, averting her gaze away from it. Perfect. It wasn’t enough that she had completely made a fool of herself, she was now ogling the medic that was coming to help her.

The very hot medic.

Holy CRAP.

The afore mentioned Chloe was ridiculously attractive. Her soft, wavy, flame red curls were tied up behind her head, a few stray curls hanging loose on either side of her face, framing it perfectly. Her smile lit up the small pit they were in, and good god those eyes, could they be any more blue?

“Hey, I’m Chloe!” She set a bag down next to Beca, as Beca put all her energy into remembering not to drool in front of her, “You took quite the tumble huh?”

“Y-yeah...” Beca shrugged a little, “Freaking Larry from Marketing took a half step backwards and I had to move out of the way but there was no room so... here I am.”

“Larry’s the... bigger guy right?” Chloe was trying to be tactful as Beca laughed softly.

“Yeah that’s him.”

“I think I would’ve taken my chances with the pit too.” Chloe winked conspiratorially as Beca grinned at her, “So... what hurts?”

“My ankle.” Beca frowned as the simple mention of pain seemed to cause it to flare up again, “I guess I must’ve twisted it maybe? Or like... broken it. It hurts like when I broke my ankle in college...”

“How did you break it in college?” Chloe asked, trying to distract Beca from the pain as she turned to inspect Beca’s outstretched ankle.

“It was dumb.” Beca blushed furiously, “I um... I was in a dance troop in college, I broke it during a rehearsal...”

“That’s so cool!” Chloe beamed, “What kind of dance?”

“Ah, ow!” Beca was suddenly grateful for the stabbing pain in her ankle that deterred the conversation from an embarrassing revelation about her college life.

“Sorry!” Chloe grimaced, her nose wrinkling in a way that was just adorable but Beca pushed that aside (or tried anyway), “Yeah, I think it’s broken Beca. I’m going to need to splint it and then we can get out of here okay?”

“You mean you don’t want to stay in this dark pit with me all day?” Beca feigned offence as Chloe giggled.

“I think there are better places for us to sit and have a conversation. Like the lounge in the main lodge with the roaring fireplace where you’ll just have to spend all your time at for the rest of the weekend once you’re in a plaster cast.” Chloe beamed at Beca who blushed again, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Sounds better than an obstacle course...” Beca grumbled, “I’m not entirely convinced your boss isn’t a serial killer y’know?”

Chloe laughed at this, “Aubrey’s great, she’s just a little... tightly wound. She’s my old college roommate, we go way back. I promise her bark is worse than her bite.”

“I’m not convinced...” Beca raised her eyebrow with a smirk, “Who doesn’t believe in ladders?”

Chloe shook her head a little as she turned her attention back to Beca’s ankle, “Alright Becs, this is going to hurt, but I promise once we’re out of this ditch I’ll give you some of the really fun painkillers okay?”

“Seems reasonable.” Beca shrugged again, jaw clenching as she waited for Chloe to manipulate her ankle into a splint.

She was right, it hurt like a bitch, but Beca managed to emit only the smallest of whimpers and maintain her badass image. Chloe turned back to her with a warm smile and a small blue harness in her hands.

“All done, you did great! Let’s get out of here huh?”

“Sure.” Beca nodded, smile a little tight as her ankle kept throbbing, “And how do we do that? Because I’m sure as shit not going to be able to abseil or whatever out of here.”

“No problem.” Chloe grinned, “I’m going to fasten this around your waist and clip it to me. Technically I’m doing the climbing, you’re just along for the ride.”

“Huh.” Beca mused, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded in her chest as Chloe’s arms wound around her waist, “Sounds like my kind of climbing experience.”

Chloe giggled as she gently helped Beca onto her good foot, holding her securely against her as she checked to make sure that the clip was secure. Beca blushed furiously as her head rested almost in the crook of Chloe’s neck. This felt wildly more intimate than she was comfortable with.

"Hold onto me" Chloe prompted gently, not missing the flustered way in which Beca turned her head to look at her, “I’ve got you, just hold on.”

“Kay...” Beca mumbled, keeping her eyes firmly on the dirt below her and not on the dazzling blue eyes of the hot medic that rescued her.

“Up we go.” Chloe beamed, tugging twice on the rope attached to her as she and Beca were slowly and carefully pulled out of the pit.

“So...” Chloe smiled innocently, “You never told me what kind of dance you used to do.”

Beca groaned softly as she shook her head, “Dude... I broke my ankle, why are you being mean to me?”

“I’m not!” Chloe pouted a little as she guided them up the the side of the pit, “I’m taking your mind off the pain... and you kind of owe me for rescuing you from a pit.”

“Hip hop.” Beca mumbled, her face crimson as she hid it under her hair.

“Adorable!” Chloe laughed, “I love that. Maybe when you’re better you can teach me some moves?”

“Never.” Beca shook her head vigorously, “Never ever again.”

“Fine...” Chloe sighed dramatically, “Guess I’ll have to settle for buying you hot chocolates by the fire whilst you’re resting up then if I want a date.”

“Date?!” Beca’s eyes snapped up to look at Chloe, cursing herself for the squeak that came out of her mouth.

“Yeah. If that’s okay with you? It’s not everyday I rescue someone as cute as you from one of Aubrey’s bear traps...” It was Chloe’s turn to blush a little now.

“Should I be worried about how often you have to do that?” Beca frowned softly, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Probably...” Chloe giggled, turning her attention to Beca for a moment, “So... a date?”

“I’d love that.” Beca grinned, “And besides, what else am I going to do while I’m lay up?”

“Great!” Chloe beamed, helping Beca out as they reached the top of the pit, Beca not caring that all her coworkers were staring at her in that moment, “I’ll come and find you when you’re all bandaged up then.”

Okay. Maybe corporate retreats weren’t all that bad then.

#pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfic #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #fanfiction #my fic #ask meme things #godzillachloe #drabble: bechloe

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

soft deception. [diluc x reader]

pairing: diluc x f!reader prompt: you love your boyfriend, you really do. he’s just so, so trusting in you that you can’t help but to trick him every now and then. (alternatively: you give diluc the world’s ugliest onesie as a christmas present and now that it’s all over, you want to go back in time and punch yourself in the face for unleashing this curse within your household.) word count: ~2.5k warnings/genres: humor, fluff, sfw but like... adult jokes at some points a/n: purely self indulgent, nobody requested this, tried out a bit of a different writing style. i wrote this to try to cheer myself up, so hopefully it makes you all happy! no beta reader though (but i never have one anyways)

You had a tendency to think of yourself as the funniest person in Teyvat at times.

Especially when you had Mondstadt’s most gullible eligible bachelor wrapped around your finger, desiring to cater to your every whim. Sure, the two of you were like two young teenagers in love despite being much older, to the point where it was a mental workout to restrain yourself from leaving purple and blue marks all along his neck, desiring to hear praises stutter on his lips as you show the man the love he has lacked over the years. It didn’t help that he also had those cherry-colored eyes that pierced into you, the only eyes to ever truly see you for you. In your humble opinion, the best part about Diluc Ragnvindr is neither his wisdom nor his love, but his ass.

Unsure if Barbatos is actually able to listen into your thoughts or not due to Venti’s uncanny capability to make jokes about thoughts you know you have never uttered aloud whenever Diluc turns his back to the two of you at the bar, you quickly rectify your thoughts and mumble an apology to the potentially omniscient alcoholic bard.

The best part about Diluc Ragnvindr lies within his ass... umptions. His assumptions, specifically about the inherent truthfulness he believed to be in your statements. Your boyfriend, as much as you loved him, is an extremely gullible man. Such a fact is even written on the ceilings of every room, but it never hurts to double-check. If you are Teyvat’s jester, then Diluc is Teyvat’s fool, but he is a fool in love.

The calculated, reserved man only lets himself be duped by you. No matter how many times you trick him, he’ll listen to your exaggerated claims and boisterous words with widened eyes, immediately trusting your words as he trusts you wholeheartedly.

You thrive in such an environment, manipulating Diluc to your liking. Not in a bad way of course, as the thought of hurting even a single hair on his head makes your stomach churn and nausea arise. Rather, you find amusement in tricking him with subtle sleights of the hand and little white lies, before revealing your cards at the end of every show and reveling in his flustered nature. You long not to hurt Diluc, but you relish in the way his milky skin turns to a rosy pink upon realizing your deception.

In simpler terms, you love to prank your red-haired, stoic boyfriend in order to see the shy smile and bashful eyes that accompany his revelations of your actions.

Being the funniest, sexiest woman in Teyvat with the most attractive, most trusting boyfriend in all of Mondstadt leads to raucous laughter on your behalf and flushed cheeks on your boyfriend’s behalf during many nights within your shared home. With Diluc’s confidence in you, you are unstoppable.

Such arrogance had a tendency to bite you in the ass.

Especially now. Right now. You’ve never regretted duping Diluc more than you do at this moment. For Christmas, you had given him two presents, his actual present and one designed to be a joke. Diluc, bless his heart, had not interpreted such a present to be no more than a simple gag and had politely smiled at you as he held the gift up, inspecting it with poorly disguised distaste in his eyes. The gift in question was a pajama onesie you had found within the clearance section of some decaying Mondstadt boutique, but these weren’t just any pajamas. It was the ugliest piece of clothing you had ever seen.

The offending onesie glints in the light of the fireplace that illuminates Diluc’s face and your poor excuse at a poker face as he analyzes his gift. It is decorated with a variety of misshapen owls, feathers formed by multicolored, poorly sewn sequins. Each owl has two octagonal, almost glowing, gaudy amber-colored rhinestones for eyes, yet each rhinestone is a slightly different shade from the others, as if they had been left out in the sun, forgotten about. A santa hat is perched on the heads of each owl and a candy cane is loosely held in at least one wing of each owl. The onesie even has built-in feet, with owl-shaped grips on the bottom that barely cling on for life in a failed attempt to provide the user traction. Diluc quickly attaches to such a concept and tries to use it as an out.

“It’s… lovely,” He finally manages, doing his best to keep his voice even as he smiles at you. You can see the pain in his eyes. “But I do not believe the feet will fit me.”

You widen your eyes in sadness and bat your eyelashes at him innocently, as if such a sentiment truly wounded you. “Can you hire a tailor to fix them? I spent a lot of time picking out this gift and I think it’s perfect.”

Diluc’s smile breaks and horror creeps into his eyes upon realizing there’s no way out of the predicament he’s currently in. As he breaks his intense ogling of the onesie to look at you, his faux smile is plastered once again on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes and it wavers, but you simply give him a cheery grin in response.

“Of course, dear,” Diluc responds, albeit a bit despondently. Your heart twists a bit and- no, no. Guilt is not allowed in the heart of a true comedian. “Anything for you.” His eyes are empty as his smile slowly drops into a thin line. Your expression of glee is a sharp contrast.

“Yay!” You giggle and clap your hands together once as you pop up from your seated position. Diluc’s woeful expression alleviates upon seeing your seemingly genuine reaction and he manages a small smile once more, this one a bit more genuine. “C’mon! Let’s try it on!”

After wearing it the rest of Christmas night, Diluc not only wears it past the reasonable date to keep wearing Christmas merchandise after Christmas is over, but he wears it multiple times per week. You know he’s only doing it to see your fit of giggles every time he does so and that Diluc wants nothing more than to see you happy, but you’re beginning to hate yourself for such a gift.

The inklings of self-hatred explode into full self-loathing when Diluc reveals he found an identical onesie while shopping and that he purchased it in order to be able to wear around the house more often. You have to hold yourself back from narrowing your eyes at him as he holds up the offending, nearly identical onesie, albeit in a different color. Unlike you, Diluc isn’t a bully. There’s absolutely no way he’s joking right now. Maybe. You aren’t sure.

The end of January rolls around and you’re ready to wrestle Diluc for his Pyro vision and burn these damn onesies yourself. Every time Diluc joins you in bed, ready to clock in for the night, he’s wearing the archonsforsaken Christmas outfit despite Valentine’s Day rapidly approaching. If you wear a cute outfit and lie on the bed, hoping for Diluc’s attention? You’ll certainly get it, but there’s more than just his eyes watching you. There are the artificial eyes of the owls watching the two of you, their beady little rhinestones judging you for your premarital sins. Whenever you reach out to stroke his arm or thigh reassuringly, you’re met with the feeling of cheap flannel and pilled fabrics.

Unfortunately for Diluc, Kaeya is your hero in this situation as he arrives to Dawn Winery unannounced and interrupts you and Diluc reading in bed together. The cavalry captain hadn’t even bothered to knock, swinging the door open with zero fear of what he might have found inside. But, upon seeing the two of you, Kaeya freezes.

“What the hell is that?” Kaeya nearly screeches in horror, pointing at Diluc.

“I’m sure you know what Diluc looks like, Kaeya,” You respond in an annoyed tone. You loved Adelinde, but why had she let Kaeya up to your and Diluc’s chambers without any warning is beyond your comprehension. “You only have one eyepatch, not two.”

Diluc does a poor job at stifling a chuckle next to you, his book now resting on the nightstand next to him due to the intrusion. He wordlessly sneaks an arm around your waist and you lean into his chest instinctively, trying your best to ignore the scratch of the sequins against your cheek.

“No, not that,” Kaeya says, unperturbed at your slight against him. “That! That thing he’s wearing! It’s awful!” His finger shakes in the air before the blue-haired man doubles over in laughter. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, holy shit.”

You look up at Diluc, who is flushed a deep crimson in embarrassment and whose brows are furrowed.

“I must admit,” Diluc clears his throat, voice diffident. “It has grown on me.”

Your heart melts at his confession and you scoot up a bit in his grasp, causing him to look at you in confusion before you press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. Adoration swims in his irises as he looks at you and softly smiles, forgetting about Kaeya’s presence despite his brother’s noisy, ceaseless laughter. Sure, the onesie might be a joke that you want to throw into a fire and pray that it burns in the pits of hell for eternity, but Diluc’s defense of your present in the face of Kaeya’s mockery warms even your cold prankster heart.

“Diluc,” You whisper lowly, not wanting Kaeya to hear. It was unlikely he would anyways, as every time he looked up at the two of you in the bed in front of him, Kaeya would burst out into peals of laughter once more. “Where’s the other onesie?”

Diluc looks at you, confused. “It’s in the laundry room. It should be dry now.” Before Diluc can ask you why you need to know such information, you’re breaking free of his grip, stumbling out of the bed, shoving past Kaeya and nearly sprinting out of the room in a hurry. Kaeya and Diluc both watch you leave, equally bewildered.

“Why are you here?” You hear Diluc ask his brother as you flee the room, but you don’t stick around for the rest of their conversation. They can be emotionally constipated together, you have more important things to do. Seizing the freshly-cleaned onesie, you shut the laundry door and shimmy it over your current pajamas, one of Diluc’s old shirts and a pair of old shorts. You have to hop around a bit to get the fabric to settle in just the right places and, dear Barbatos, this thing is uncomfortable.

Diluc must really love you to put up with this outfit every night. Before you can melt into a puddle of goo at the thought of your essentially perfect boyfriend who would do nearly anything for you, you storm out of the laundry room and back into the bedroom, climbing back into bed with Diluc wordlessly, settling your legs underneath the covers and guiding Diluc’s arm back to its rightful place around your waist.

You press another kiss to Diluc’s cheek as he stares at you with an unreadable expression. Despite having recovered from his earlier flustered state, his cheeks quickly return to the shade of red you adore so much. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t stick on this onesie just to shamelessly ogle your boyfriend and kiss him senseless. No, you wore it to spite the man in front of the two of you, whose expression is now morphed into one of horror.

“There’s two of them?! One was already a crime against humanity, but two?!” Kaeya is aghast at such a concept. Diluc’s gaze breaks off you and he tightens his grip around your waist as he glowers at his brother.

“We have a third one if you wish to continue intruding in our home,” Diluc proposes, his voice having a slight edge to it. Kaeya holds his hands up later.

“Alright. I’ll see you later then. Bye, (Y/N)~!” Kaeya quickly ejects himself from the conversation, not even bothering to spare his brother a goodbye in his hurry to leave before a onesie can be thrust upon you.

“You look adorable,” Diluc confesses before pressing a kiss to your forehead. This time, it’s your turn to fluster and you look away, startled by his forwardness. “I always like seeing you in my clothes.”

“Oh… thank you,” You murmur sheepishly, but Diluc grabs your chin and lightly guides your face to look at him. A shiteating grin breaks out across his face.

“I appreciate your support, darling, but isn’t it time we stop this ruse?” Diluc questions and your eyes widen in surprise. “Unfortunately, my brother is correct. These outfits are quite… awful.”

“I like them!” You interject, unsure as to why you’re defending the outfits you had just been wishing for the destruction of.

“Is that so?” Diluc challenges, eyebrows raised as you nod your head furiously. A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “(Y/N), I know I might be dumb at times, especially when it comes to you, but surely you can’t think I’m dumb enough to believe this lie.”

You narrow your eyes at him and fold your arms in contempt. “There is no way you’ve called my bluff this early. Kaeya told you I was fucking with you, didn’t he?”

Diluc’s smug attitude is replaced with that of a scolded puppy, unable to look you in the eyes. “... Yes.”

You can’t help but press yet another kiss to his face, this time gracing his jaw as you pepper light kisses down his neck. “You’re correct. I absolutely loathe these ugly clothes. It’s not even Christmas anymore. But I’d be damned if I was going to let that gremlin insult something of yours.”

Diluc laughs genuinely and he brings your face close to his, pressing your lips together in a sweet, chaste kiss, before pulling away far too soon for your liking.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I should probably change now that the joke is over,” Diluc explains. You raise your eyebrows at him and he lets out a sigh. “The fabric is itchy.” Your boyfriend clambers out of bed and you unabashedly watch him change into a more comfortable outfit, admiring the way his lithe muscles move as he puts on a new shirt. Diluc turns around and looks at you expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to change too?” He asks as he climbs back under the covers with you, but you softly smile and shake your head in response.

“No,” You coo. “I think it’ll stay on for tonight.” You wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling into his shoulder exaggeratedly.

Diluc groans at your words and you realize he shares the same hatred of the onesies that you do. But, as Diluc’s chief prankster, you’re determined to get the last laugh, even if the dumb fabric scratches against you all night.

#not sure how i feel about this one tbh! it's certainly a different style of writing i feel #but reader in this is extremely similar to my own personality (for once)#diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc scenarios #*writing #*diluc #*fic

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 1 - TAKING FLIGHT

Fic Summary:

The sky Oikawa Tooru’s heart seeks is a world away from the earth yours is buried in. You are a fool to trust him with your heart anyway.

Where Oikawa Tooru does not make it to Argentina straightaway.

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

Icarus, Icarus, I must be blind not to see you long to touch the sun.

Updates every Monday

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x you, Oikawa Tooru x fem! reader

Genre / Wordcount : Angst (5.6k words)

Warnings: One non-explicit bedroom scene

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“Home sweet home ”, Tooru declares grandly, throwing his hands out with the air of a conqueror bursting with pride at the sight of his domain.

Never mind the fact that the apartment looks like it’s been hit by a tsunami of cardboard boxes and scattered bits of furniture. Or the fact that you’re covered in sweat and grime from lifting boxes and shifting furniture and you’d very much like to lie down and not get up for the next week or two, but you can’t because of the never ending list of things to be done - unpacking your belongings, filling in your enrolment paperwork, attending medical school orientation to attend.

But his words wash away the tide of anxiety lapping at the edges of your mind.

Tooru wept and gnashed his teeth when his parents refused to let him chase his dreams to Argentina, and not a single professional team in Japan even looked his way. Don’t be ridiculous, his parents told him with wagging fingers, especially when Chuo University sent a full scholarship his way.

“It is the top school for volleyball” you pointed out, as he spent yet another hour lying flat on his back, eyes swollen from spent tears. “You could go there and grab everyone’s attention by being their starting setter for the next four years.”

He does not respond. You wonder if he’s waiting for the paint on the ceiling to crack.

“Plus” you add slyly. “I’ll be at Chuo with you.”

This catches his attention. “What d’you mean”, he mumbles, throat still sandy with salt.

“I got into medical school there”, you tell him , the smile on your face growing when he finally hurls himself bodily at you, both of you toppling off the bed and onto the floor.

“You’ll be there with me?” he whispers in disbelief.

You laugh wetly into the crook of his neck. “Every step of the way”, you declare, slipping your hand into his.

You’ve both transplanted yourselves from your childhood home in Sendai to a tiny apartment in Tokyo, a veritable hole in paper thin walls. Your hearth is a pair of rusty iron hobs, and your bed is a cheap mattress on the floor, but sunshine spills in from the windows like liquid gold and Oikawa Tooru’s hand is warm in yours.

You wonder what you’ve done in your past life for the gods to smile down on you, to bless you with a boy you love in a place you can both call home .

You’re not usually this sentimental, but just this once, you tug him down towards you, stealing a kiss from him. “I like the sound of that”, you murmur against his lips. “Our home, Tooru”.

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “Do you love me?” he asks, with a smile that cages your beating heart in his calloused hands.

You are young. You are eighteen. You know nothing of the world. You know nothing of life.

So you reply - “More than life itself”.

He kisses you with languid ease, stealing the very breath from your chest. You tell yourself you have four years to work up the courage to ask if he loves you as much in return.

“Medical supplies are expensive, so stop coming here to ask for cold presses that you don’t need”, you tell Oikawa Tooru, Captain of the Volleyball Club and currently a veritable pain in your ass for constantly hounding you during your shifts at the school’s sickbay.

You resist the urge to sigh when he throws himself onto the cot, groaning dramatically - “How mean! You and Iwa-chan are the same - brutes, all of you! What’s a guy gotta do to get some tender love and care, especially when he’s injured?”

You cast a doubtful eye at the bandage over his right knee. “Iwaizumi said you recovered, but I guess if you’re really still injured…”

Oikawa grins, sensing victory in sight. “So you’ll give me a cold press and let me rest here during class?”

You drop said cold press onto his knee none too gently. “Sure - though..” your voice trails off, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “That would mean you’re not cleared for practice. I’ll send a note to your coach.”

Gotcha.

It’s your turn to grin when alarm dawns on Oikawa’s face, his eyebrows pinching together as he waves his hands at you, pleading you not to mention a word to his coach - pretty please with a cherry on top, he forgot to do his homework cos he was staying up late to watch volleyball videos last night and needs a place to hide, and you’re the kindest, bestest, person on earth if you let it slide this time, his knee is fine, just fine -

You glare at him, unimpressed.

He pouts, with the largest puppy dog eyes he can muster. Even you are not immune to his charms.

“Fine”, you say flatly. “Just once.”

He thanks you, promising never to darken the doors of the sickbay again without cause.

Of course, he breaks his promise the very next day when he sidles in just before practice, dropping a milk carton and a bun on your table.

“An offering to the maiden of this shrine” he answers teasingly in response to the question in your furrowed brow, trying his best to exude arrogance and saunter off, though his efforts are defeated by the pink tint to the apples of his cheek.

Oikawa Tooru, huh. You wonder.

You and Tooru are drawn into the ebb and flow of university life. You wake up with him by your side each morning, kiss him on the cheek before you both head your separate ways. In a fit of fancy, you imagine that your front door is the portal to different worlds - a little like the enchanted door in Howl’s Moving Castle, a movie Tooru used to make you watch with him on repeat. When you step through it, you find yourself in the humdrum world of medical school - anatomy classes, stuffy professors, scalpels and knives. Whereas when Tooru steps through it - like the titular wizard, he bursts like a fiery comet into a wholly separate, magical world of whistles and drills and volleyball practices.

Your worlds never collide in the day, even though from time to time, you sneak into the gym to watch him practice, unbeknownst to him. Typically, you only see him at night. Dinners are prepared together, shoulders jostling over the kitchen counter to cook rice and produce sourced from the supermarket’s discount bin, before you both huddle over homework. More often than not though, Tooru prefers to spend all his time crouched over his laptop, earbuds on, watching endless streams of volleyball matches.

“Aren’t you ever tired of volleyball?” you ask when you see him analyse yet another video - Argentina versus Japan this time.

You already know the answer before your question leaves your tongue but you ask it anyway, amused when he squawks in indignation and knocks over your cup of tea in his hurry to exclaim - Sick of volleyball? Him, Oikawa Tooru? Never!

Of course, you knew that. Chuo University is the top collegiate team for volleyball, so the coaches demand nothing but the best from their players. You watch by the sidelines as Tooru grinds his body into dust at volleyball practice, coming home every night with sore tendons and aching bones. Balancing a full business course load on top of that would stretch anyone to their breaking point.

Anyone normal that is, because Tooru revels in his hectic schedule.

You attend his first match and you’re blown away by how much he’s grown from being transplanted from barren soil into rich earth. The unerring confidence he’s already shown in his high school days blossoms into an elegant ease. His athleticism grows by leaps and bounds, his game sense sharpens, his sets learn true grace.

He claws his way to a starting position with bloodied fingernails, in blatant disregard of anything that might stand in his way. He builds his own wings, starts to take flight, the light in his eyes shining brighter and brighter the closer he flies towards the sun.

He is no longer the simple school boy you fell in love with from Sendai.

“Will you go out with me if I win our next match?” he asks suddenly, lifting his gaze from the video he’s watching from his usual corner in the sickbay.

“Do I look like a prize for some school boy’s grudge match?” You snipe back, head bent over your homework.

“It was worth a try”, he hrumphs.

You hide a smile.

“I would go out with you even if you lose”, you tell him, though you do not lift your eyes from paper and pen.

A laugh bubbles from his chest - surprised, delighted, triumphant.

“I better make sure I win then. So you don’t change your mind.”

He did not win that game, losing spectacularly in the finals in his second year against his fated rival - Ushijima from Shiratorizawa, a specter that still looms unti over every match he plays in up to today.

True to your word, you sat on his doorstep, waiting for him to return home red eyed, throat raw. You let him drop his aching head into your lap, and like a maiden comforting a weary warrior, you pressed a kiss to his forehead as a balm to his wounds. Then you dragged him by the hand to your favourite ramen stall, ordering two bowls of tonkatsu ramen, with char siu, bamboo shoots, spring onions and gyoza on the side. An inauspicious first date, but you consider yourself lucky nonetheless for having him beside you.

Things are different now. You are blind not to see him long to touch the sun.

No one is surprised when Chuo University wins nationals. The only surprise to the media (but certainly not to you or anyone from Miyagi for that matter), is that Chuo University brings home the trophy with Oikawa Tooru as it’s starting setter.

The boy king finally reaches the national stage.

Even then, he is always, always grasping for more .

“You were amazing!” you gush, as he finally breaks through the triumphant huddle of his teammates to swing you into his arms and greet you with his customary kiss. “I’m so proud of you!”

His eyes glitter as he laughs, giddy with delight, face flushed with pride. “It’s just college, princess. Wait til I go pro”.

Like Ushijima, you think, though that name remains unsaid.

Wax feathers had already started to sprout from the knobs of his spine back in high school, budding beneath your fingertips like a cancerous tumour. Back then it was easy to be wilfully blind to them, but now it's become too obvious to be ignored. Oikawa Tooru’s ambition lies spread eagled, naked beneath the blinding lights of the sports hall. He has only just tasted his first real victory, crossed the first hurdle separating him from his dreams of greatness.

“I’m waiting for that day then”, you respond teasingly.

You only realise later that you lied. He's left the confines of your arms in his quest for the skies.

You laughed when Tooru first broached the idea of sneaking out at night to gaze at stars in the sky. ‘What nonsense’, you’d said. What are the chances of seeing stars amidst the light pollution from a city, even a relatively minor one like Sendai?

“You’re being a meanie, just like Iwa-chan”, he pouted. He kept whining until you gave in.

Tooru picks you up from your home past midnight, chuckling when you label his rusty bicycle ‘a contraption from hell’ and ask him archly whether he truly expects you to entrust your wellbeing to the tiny rack meant to function as the pillion’s seat.

“Stop being a princess, it isn’t as if I can magick a seatbelt from thin air” he teases.

“Howl could”, you point out.

“Well, I could strap you on with my bicycle chain if you prefer”, he answers blithely. “Get on, stop complaining”.

He pedals all the way uphill to the deserted park near school, whining all the way about the strain the extra weight (you) puts on his knees (lies, all of them). You’re torn between pointing out that he chose to drag you out in the middle of the night and kicking him off the bike and commandeering yourself home instead. You choose instead to slap the back of his head.

“Ow!” he squeals. “Brute!”

“Hmph”. You fold your arms in satisfaction.

When he finally finds a spot perfect enough to commence his stargazing adventure, he stops the back, spreads a picnic mat and hands you a flask of hot tea.

“I don’t see any stars”, you say, after fifteen minutes of sitting, stiff and cold in the dark.

“Don’t be impatient! The clouds will clear up soon”, he says, squinting hopefully.

The sky remains overcast.

You sigh, the breath expelled from your nose forming your own personal cloud. You are accustomed to Tooru’s quirks, his all consuming passion for volleyball, his love for all things outer space. You decide to indulge him a little, just once.

“Why don’t you pretend we can see the stars and tell me your favourite thing about each one?”

He brightens up visibly.

“You won’t be bored if I did that?”

You prod his nose, but your eyes are fond. “Have you ever bored me?”

His chest swells. “I suppose not”, he crows, and proceeds to trace the constellations with elegant fingers, spinning stories and conjuring random facts about celestial beings you cannot see. You find yourself enthralled, not by his words, but by the lilt in his voice and depth in his eyes.

“Why d’you love the stars so much?” you ask.

“Did you not just hear anything I’ve just said?” his voice teeters dangerously close to a whine.

You click your tongue against your teeth. “I mean – trivia and myths aside. Why are you so fascinated by what are essentially flaming balls of gas and light.”

“The shallow answer is cos they’re pretty.” He says, laughing airily, before turning his gaze to you, the stark intensity in his eyes causing goosebumps to prickle the back of your neck. “But if my lady here is searching for a deeper answer, well. Aren’t stars the ultimate embodiment of the dreams of all humankind? Even as we strive and fail towards our petty goals, the stars are always there to remind us to look up and reach for the sky”

You flick his forehead. “Pretty words, for a pretty boy”.

“Hey!” He scowls indignantly before he perks up. “Wait - did you see that? There’s a star!”

The sky clears just enough for a pale light to peer through a gauzy cloud. You do see it, and it is indeed beautiful, but your attention has already been captured by the boy beside you. And Tooru being Tooru, naturally notices.

“Why’re you staring at me instead of the sky?”

Perhaps you’re drunk on the magic of midnight skies, perhaps you want to uncover the mystery of his smile yourself. Perhaps that explains why your eyes soften and why your words fall short of a whisper.

“Because you are my sun, my moon and all my stars”, you say. “I like you better than anything in the sky.”

His mouth slackens and for a moment, his eyes are tender before his laugh breaks your flight of whimsy, and you bury your face in your hands, hot with embarrassment.

“Forget I ever said that”, you plead.

“Never!” he cries. “I’m going to remind you how cheesy you can be for the rest of your life!”

You end up having to kiss him to shut him up.

In his second year, Sakusa Kiyoomi joins his team. Tooru finally meets someone who meets his impossibly high standards to fill Iwaizumi’s place as his ace.

He’s literally bouncing on balls of his feet when he comes home after the first practice.

“He’s so prickly and unfriendly but his receiving his top notch, and his game sense is fantastic, and best of all the spin he gives to each spike makes me drool - especially when I see the look on the other side’s faces when they try receiving his ball for the first time - ha ha! ”, he talks at you at breakneck speed as you both prepare dinner, side by side at the cramped kitchen counter.

“Mmhm”, you reply, head thinking of the multiple lectures you attended today, the homework and readings you must do tonight to stay abreast.

“-it’s his wrists, they’re so flexible it nearly made me puke when I first saw him stretch them”, he continues for the rest of the night, heedless of your wavering attention.

You meet Sakusa at one of the few team parties you actually attend. You nearly stumble over him when you try to hide in your usual corner with a plate of food in your hand, watching as Tooru flutters around like the social butterfly he is. His nose and mouth are hidden behind a face mask, but even you can tell he’s uncomfortable to be around so many people, so you tug at his jacket sleeve gently to lead him away from the crowd to a seat at the top of the stairs.

You don’t expect him to speak much to you, if at all, but to your surprise, he initiates the conversation.

“He doesn’t take good care of himself”, Sakusa mutters. You nearly miss his words over the pulsing beat of the music.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask - though you already know who he’s referring to.

“It’s unhealthy, the way you push yourself”, you tell Tooru, hands on hips, standing at the door to Aoba Johsai’s sports hall. You hardly intrude here onto Tooru’s sacred space, choosing instead to stay in the library to study until he’s done with practice and you can both walk home together. But practice has long ended, and your patience has run short - not to mention Iwaizumi popped his head into the library to shoot you a worried expression, dark eyebrows pinched into a pained frown.

You are aware of Tooru’s predilection for working himself to the bone. Or to the shredded remnants of the tendon of his knee, to be more accurate. So you tap your feet, looking pointedly at said injury.

“I’m fine”, he tries to dismiss you without even looking your way.

You refuse to let him.

“You’re not fine”, you tell him coolly, taking another step towards the inner sanctum, the volleyball courts. White lines, painted into brown wood. A single ball, six per side, each jostling for their pride and god.

“Tooru -”

“I need to practice so I can win”, he snarls, handsome face mangled by an angry scowl. “Don’t be like one of those whiny girlfriends, you know I can’t stand that.”

You are not so easily hurt by the barbs in his words. “You can’t win if you’re injured”, you attempt to appeal to his reason. “You know and I know and your coach knows that that knee of yours is going to cause you problems if you don’t rest it properly. So you better listen to me, because so help me - I can tell you that you’re not going to be able to come for practice if you keep pushing yourself tonight”.

His anger simmers into a sulk. “You’re not a doctor”, he replies, a petulant whine at the tail end of his words.

“Not yet”, you respond, and at that, he laughs, surprised that your arrogance matches his own.

Your attention snaps back to the present when Sakusa calls your name. “Sorry”, you breathe. “Couldn’t quite hear you - who were you referring to again?”

“Oikawa”, Sakusa says, confirming your suspicions. “Practises even though I know his knee hurts sometimes”.

You thank him for telling you before carefully diverting the conversation to something a little more innocuous, buying yourself time to turn this new information over in your mind.

You hear him hiss as you open the front door- “Iwa-chan, don’t be stupid, I can’t tell her yet!”

It’s not an uncommon sight to come home at night to find Tooru cradling his phone to his ear whilst juggling a book in his other hand. It is the only time slot that he and Iwaizumi have to catch up.

Still, it is uncommon for him to bolt into the toilet the minute he catches sight of you.

“Is everything alright?” you ask him over dinner.

“Peachy”, he replies between spoonfuls of rice. “Never been better”.

He promptly changes the topic after that.

“Not staying home for dinner?” you ask, arms wrapped around yourself as he lets the chilly air into your apartment, sitting by the open door lacing his training shoes up.

“Wanna work in some more practice tonight”, he murmurs, gaze still locked on his shoes. “Serves and all that. Don’t wait for me, yeah?”

“Right. Just...promise me you’ll take care of yourself, Tooru”, you answer, unable to keep the disappointment from leaking into your voice.

He stands up, turns to face you with a cheery smile. “Of course I will. Anyway, don’t pout, princess”, he sing songs gaily. “We’ll spend some time together after the season is over, I promise.”

“Alright”, you say, unconvinced, reluctantly tipping your chin up to let him kiss your cheek goodbye.

“Tooru?”

You feel the mattress dip. “Go back to sleep, princess”, he whispers, pulling the sheets back up to your chin.

“Where are you going?” You mumble, squinting your eyes at the clock by the side of the bed. “It’s four in the morning. The earliest you wake up for practice is five.”

“I just wanted to practice my serves a little more.” You hear him rustle in the bathroom. Sakusa’s words echo in your ears, and you sit up, bleary eyed.

“Tooru?”

“Mm?”

“Are you taking care of your knee? And getting enough sleep?”

He stiffens. “Of course”, he replies with the tight, plastic smile he only ever gives you when he’s trying to lie. “Why’re you asking me this? Who put ideas in your pretty little head?”

For the first time in your relationship with Tooru, you take care not to accidentally tread on the faultlines of his heart.

“I worry about you”, you say, gripping your sheets as he frowns. “I don’t think you’re sleeping enough - judging from the bags under your eyes, and you shouldn’t be over practising because your knee could very act up - “

“Look - I don’t have time to deal with this” he interjects with a snap. “Just leave me alone and go back to sleep.”

“I’m only saying this because I love you, Tooru.” You automatically tack on - “More than life itself.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing out a sigh. “I love you too ok? Stop worrying your pretty head about my health and my knee - we agreed you only get to nag me when you’re a full fledged doctor, remember?”, he adds, with a cheeky smile that does not reach his hooded eyes.

You let him walk out of the house without another word, cotton sheets crumpling in your clenched fists.

You don’t get to talk about it that night because he chatters at you about Sakusa’s tantrum during practice because someone hid his towel, and you can barely get a word in before he slips off to shower and sleep.

He starts to disappear for days at a time, even after the season ends with him not only taking home his second trophy at Nationals, but crowned the best setter in the collegiate volleyball league.

He tells you that there are overnight practice matches and camps. That he’s staying over at his teammates’ flats. You believe him at first. There is, after all, no reason for him to lie.

Still, it is a little funny he refuses to allow you to do his laundry from those trips. You brush away your friends’ concerns that he’s cheating on you - Tooru wouldn’t do that, you assure them with a wide smile that hurts your cheeks.

Tooru would never lie to you.

Then you bump into Sakusa Kiyoomi on campus when Tooru is away again.

It’s night time. Shadows bleed into concrete roads. You’re on your way back home from hiding up in the library all day, reluctant to return to a home without Tooru when you bump into the reticent spiker.

“Aren’t you supposed to be away at practice camp?” you ask innocently, worried that an injury might keep him from playing, though from a quick scan he seems to be fine.

“Practice camp?” He echoes blankly, his face an open book of confusion.

“Tooru mentioned that he’d be away from some practice camp for a few days...”

Your words trail off. Your heart flutters, refuses to accept the truth staring you in the face.

Sakusa frowns. His answer is brutal, direct. “There’s no training camp - hasn’t been in a while”.

“Oh”, you murmur.

Realization needles its way into the space beside your beating heart, drills its way into the marrows of your bones.

“Are you ok?” You faintly hear Sakusa say. It’s your turn to lie.

Tooru comes home the next day, a quarter past two. You’re sitting on the threadbare couch cross legged, a textbook balanced on your lap.

“Where have you been?”

“Practice camp. Didn’t I tell you that?”

You scoff. The page held between your fingers starts to crumple. Your composure frays.

“Really?” Your voice starts to veer into hysterics, straight across the highway into your emotional stratosphere. “Sakusa Kiyoomi told me that there’s no such practice camp, Oikawa. How about you try again with the truth this time.”

He reels back. You can see him trying to formulate yet another lie.

“Princess”, he begins pleadingly, but your temper runs hot and you short circuit at the sound of your nickname from his lips.

You stalk towards him, grabbing the bag in his hand. Like a woman possessed, you wrench the zip open, holding the bag open above your head, emptying its contents out. Dirty clothes, a deflated volleyball, toiletries spill onto the floor. You comb through each and every item in search of a telltale sign - a lipstick mark, a woman’s floral scent, something, anything for you to confirm his infidelity.

What you find, however, is not what you expect.

A red jersey, lying limp in your hands. A contrast to the university’s colours of navy and white.

You flip it around.

The words EJP Raijin are emblazoned across the jersey in stark white.

You look up at him. He stares back.

“Why didn’t you tell me?’

He has the decency to look away.

“Tooru”, you repeat, voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I was afraid of what it meant. For us”, he answers, dropping to his knees in front of you. “You know I’ve always wanted to go pro - and when the Div 1 teams started holding try-outs, I had to go. I tried out for them all except the Adlers, and EJP decided to give me a shot, which was like a dream come true… But I didn’t know if you would be happy if I did take it up.”

“Take what up?” you echo. Your mind is not keeping up with this turn of events.

“Move to Hiroshima to join the team.” He answers warily, ready to flee at the first sign of danger. “You know I’d have to, right?”

You look at him with fresh eyes, this boy you profess to love more than life itself. Wings spread from his shoulder blades, moulded by madness and greed from fire and wax. The reflection of the sun gleams in his eyes. He has left you permanently for the skies.

“What about me?” Your breath stuck in your throat even as you refuse to relinquish the last hold you have on him.

“If you love me”, he begins, reaching out to cup your cheeks and it’s your turn to reel back because you know he’s about to throw back your own words in your face.

If you love me more than life itself - won’t you do this for me?

But you are no longer eighteen. You are twenty one, on the cusp of adulthood. You know a little more about life than you did at eighteen.

You know that your life is here - in Tokyo, among dusty books and lectures and tutorials on anatomy and diseases and germs, and you cannot upend your life and uproot yourself to Hiroshima just to follow someone else’s dreams. You love Tooru, but you do not share his dreams of glory and gold medals, of fleeting victory, of Olympian greatness.

“I can’t”, you say, with a firmness that surprises even yourself.

Again, he does not meet your eyes.

“Then what shall we do?” He asks, lips pressed into a straight line.

For a brief and terrible moment, you are tempted to throw your dignity to the wind, to fall on your knees and ask him to stay in Tokyo with you. But you can no longer turn a blind eye to what’s been staring you in the face for the entire length of your relationship, so you bite the insides of your cheek and grit your teeth.

“We will do what we must”, you tell him, your head held high.

You do not know what hurts more. The lack of pause in his acceptance to your suggestion that you break up, or the painfully obvious relief in his eyes.

He goes to sleep in your shared bed, oblivious to your pain. You do not join him, choosing instead to spend hours seeking privacy in your toilet, knees aching from the cold floor.

You are clinical, even in your anguish.

Wring the liquid grief from your lungs, lay it on the floor to dry. Filter the water from your windpipe, the salt from your eyes. Your organs are scattered on the floor, battered, broken, torn. Save for your heart - you will need to retrieve it, whatever’s left of it at least. You last recall seeing it beneath Tooru’s feet, dashed to pieces as he spreads his wings and takes flight.

You will put yourself back together with steady hands tomorrow, fill the cavity in your chest with the remnants of your organs, secure them in place with stitches and staples. Given time, you think your prognosis is good.

You are young. You will heal.

But now, you are allowed an hour or two to grieve at the very least. To mourn the loss of a relationship you still hold dear, a relationship that you only realise has an expiry date in the short span of a night.

You are a fool for not realising it sooner.

Perhaps he cares for you, but you must now confront the fact that you’ve been wilfully blind to. He could never give you his heart when he’s already given his heart up to someone else - to volleyball, a far more demanding mistress.

You cannot compete with her. You should not have tried.

Tooru files the paperwork to drop out of university. You find another flat, this time for one.

In the weeks before he leaves, you watch him flit about the flat, buzzing with excitement like an overgrown child. His wings nearly suffocate you with its ever increasing breadth and length, but you do not begrudge his happiness. You still love him desperately. You still want what’s best for him.

You write him meal plans, scribble reminders on the proper care for his knee. You help him label his boxes, arrange for them to be sent to Hiroshima via post. You do not tell him how tempted you are to slip yourself whole into one of them. But you start to build a cage for the remnants of your heart, turning a deaf ear even as it pounds against the bars of your ribs.

The time finally comes for him to get on a train bound for Hiroshima. The time finally comes for you to leave the flat.

“Princess”, he says softly, catching your elbow as you stand on the threshold, pulling you flush against his broad chest. You do not trust yourself to speak as he gently tilts your face up to his.

“Thank you”, he breathes against your lips. There is a lingering taste of regret in his kiss.

“For what?” you manage to ask.

His eyes pool with affection, swirl with sadness.

“For everything.” He takes your hands in his, presses a final kiss to your forehead. Your traitorous heart screeches at you to beg him to say. You smother it beneath reinforced walls of steel and bone.

Icarus, Icarus. This is goodbye.

You make him leave before you, watching as he turns his back on you. Then you steal a minute to potter through each room in the little flat that was your home. The bedroom, barely large enough for two. The bathroom, with a propensity for leaking, the shower where Tooru insists on serenading the neighbours, much to their discontent. The kitchen, full of memories of shared dinners, and quiet conversations.

You bid farewell to two full years of happiness, press your forehead against the front door to whisper goodbye to your home.

The lock clicks. You close the door.

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6sakusa · 3 years

Text

“why” miya atsumu.

wc : 1.3k

warnings : angst, cheating, implications of a toxic relationship.

part 2

another night alone. another night you reached out to the other side of the bed just to realise nobody was there, another night you had asked yourself why. why weren’t you good enough? why didn’t he want you? why didn’t you fulfil his needs? why did he need someone else? the worst part of it all is how you couldn’t bring yourself to leave even though you knew these past months that he’d been cheating on you. why is that? probably because you were so hopefully infatuated with miya atsumu that you didn’t want to accept reality.

something that you had become an expert in was pretending. everytime he was in your arms you’d revel in his touch as if nothing was wrong, as if he was just as in love with you as you were with him. you were so good at it to the point where he never suspected anything, the thought of you knowing what he was up to with his late night endeavours had never even crossed his mind. not even the time he’d left his phone on the couch and you watched as it lit up with lewd pictures from a girl who was messaging him, not even then did you crack. instead you forced out a smile the moment he had made his way back to the livingroom and watched as he panicked while you feigned confusion. and of course he assumed you hadn’t seen anything, but you had seen everything and he had no idea.

the worst time was perhaps when you had come home early after a week away with your parents to surprise your boyfriend but had instead found him laying in bed- your bed, with another woman.

and now that you couldn’t pretend anymore, now that everything had come crashing down, now that you were completely broken, fed up and tired after receiving another lie from atsumu that he would be practicing late today you weren’t sure what you should do. well that wasn’t true, you were sure but you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it.

you sighed to yourself, your breath was shaky as your heart was shattering in your chest and you hadn’t even realised that you were crying. maybe it was because you had finally accepted it, you had finally accepted the truth that you were not enough for miya atsumu. so what was the point hanging around pretending to be? there was none, there was absolutely no reason for you to stay even though all you’d been doing these past months was searching recklessly for one.

your eyes darted towards your phone, you wanted to stop yourself more than anything but when it came to him your body moved by itself. if you were gonna leave you needed one more confirmation, you needed to be more hurt, you needed one more push, you needed-

“hello?” you heard your boyfriends voice echo on the other side of the line as you had absent-mindedly clicked down on the call button. yes, when it came to miya atsumu your body moved by itself indeed. his voice was shaky and you could hear heavy breath and mumbling lingering within the air, it was amazing how much of a fool he took you for. “are you still practicing ‘tsumu? i miss you.” well, maybe you were a fool.

“i miss yer too babe, i’ll be home soon don’t worry - i have to go now, don’t wait up.” lies, it was all lies that dripped right off of his voice, because miya atsumu was a cheating, backstabbing liar who couldn’t even stand being on the phone to you for more than nine seconds. maybe your fault was being too naive and thinking that there was a way to fix things, that one day your boyfriend would finally realise what he had in front of him and wouldn’t want anyone but you, but the realisation was hitting you of how that would never happen and that the truth was he didn’t love you and if he did, he was a sadistic bastard for only causing you pain.

but if you had known all this time then why did it hurt so much? why did your breath hitch in your throat causing a lump to form? why did your stomach tie itself into an irreversible knot? why was hot liquid glossing over your eyes? why were your legs turning weak? why weren’t you enough? it seemed the grief was hitting you in waves, yes grief, because it felt like you were losing a part of yourself. the two of you had been together since college and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, but you’d soon find out.

you sighed pushing yourself out of bed before grabbing everything you could, it hurt when you realised how much atsumu had actually bought for you, did you even want these things anymore? you’d have to get rid of them when you had the chance. it was sickening how someone who had once brought you so much comfort was now the cause of the dull ache embedded within your chest, perhaps it would be easier if you had played it off as if he died, surely it would hurt less than this, you thought, zipping up the first bag you could find.

what was once whole is now shattered; where once was peace is emptiness, echoes of a love you put my everything into and you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover from leaving everything behind. from your ex-lover to your entire home. you wondered how atsumu would react when he came home to find the place completely empty. he’d probably be relieved that he no longer has to tip-toe and sneak around. with you now gone he could fuck any girl he’d like in the comfort of his own home, he wouldn’t have to lie anymore, he wouldn’t have to put up this whole facade, he could just be himself because miya atsumu will always be miya atsumu and there’s nothing you could do to change that.

so with a heavy heart and a poisoned mind you took one last glance at your shared apartment, with a bag full of whatever clothes you could grab quick enough, pocket change in your purse and no idea where you would go you pryed the promise ring atsumu had given you years ago off your fingers. he had promised to always love you, and that he’d always be yours. you scoffed at the thought of it.

“goodbye.” your voice was barely over a whisper as you flicked the light switch causing everything to go dark, the only sounds that remained were your footsteps descending and the droplets of your tears hitting the floor.

what you didn’t know is how miya atsumu broke down in a frenzy at the sight of your ring on the counter and your side of the wardrobe empty. you didn’t know how wrong you were about him not loving you which was only something he’d discovered when you’d left. he couldn’t function without you and was drowning in a never ending pool of regret. he promised himself he’d never bring another girl home, maybe then you would come back, because he still had a chance right? despite not hearing from you in months, having no idea where you were, if you were okay, if you were doing well, if you had found someone else.

“why?” he asked himself, feeling sick when he reflected back on his own actions, he was the fool to lose out on the best thing he ever had and he didn’t know how he was ever going to go on without you. he cursed himself day in and day out, because his life would never be the same.

“why?”

—

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Note

hello 😊

may I request a drabble with jungkook and seokjin and reader with some angst and a bit of smut.. seokjin is her boyfriend and jungkook is jin's best friend and also a close friend of hers his also in love with her and he doesn't hid the fact that he has feelings for her so when y/n and seokjin get into a fight he seeing it as an opportunity to finally see if she wants to be with him

I hope that makes sense

thank you ❤️

pairing: fwb!seokjin x oc, roommate!jungkook x oc

genre: smut, angst

warnings: toxic/unhealthy fwb relationships, jin is a douche, jk is mean, oc needs a break

words: 2, 775

note: WHY DO I ALWAYS GIVE MY OCS A HARD TIME IM SORRY & i took a bit of a turn w this request so i apologise for any inaccuracies 😢

There is a way that Seokjin treats you in bed that makes you feel whole yet like you’re losing bits and pieces of yourself to him every time. He’s never selfish—God no. He was generous to you, much more generous than real lovers you had in the past that you shared kisses that were full of passion between the sheets. The passion you felt with Seokjin was undeniable and almost painful. You hated the word almost, it was like wasted potential on a possibility that could’ve come true but fell too short to be real. And every time you thought of that word you thought of Seokjin.

He was there. He always was. That was the conflicting part. Between always and almost, he was always with you but never almost in love with you the way you were with him. It was pathetic, really. How a woman held such high regard for turned into someone unrecognisable between the sheets and a few kisses from a man who didn’t even love her back. You swore to yourself you’d never let this happen. But here it was—happening.

He fucks into you at a brutal pace that could almost cloud your stressful thoughts. He never misses, his hips angled upwards to hit you in places that only lovers should feel. You moan, scream and cry—for reasons more than how good he makes you feel.

“Ffffffuck, J-Jin!” Your head is pressed against the mattress but you can still see your delirious expression through the mirror in front of your bed. He looks angelic with the way his forehead scrunches in utmost concentration in making you feel good, but the way he snaps his hips harder into your own was demonic. He usually left bruises and it felt nice to have the remainder of what he did to you—but stung at the same time with the way that he marked you as if you were his.

You weren’t.

“Like that, angel?” He leans down to whisper against your cheek and all you can muster is the blubber of a response.

The grip on your hips is rough, but you like it that way. He slips a hand in between your spread legs and rubs your clit in figure-eights that has you whining at a decibel louder than the ones before. Jin notices this and starts fucking into you faster if that was even humanely possible.

“Look at you—so fucked out. You’re mine to ruin, right?” He taunts you, dragging a hand up your body with the wetness as the answer to his question. He tugs on your chin to direct your face to look at your reflection clearly, and you see your lips swollen, eyes blown out and hair tousled.

“Y-Yes—fuck—yours, J-Jin!” You’re panting, and you feel your coil unravel at a rapid pace, and Jin groans from behind you when he feels your cunt spasm around his cock ferociously.

“If you’re mine then don’t cum just yet,” He sounds too collected for a man who’s been fucking his cock deep into you for the past hour, but you could never read Seokjin. Even when you had his dick all the way down your throat, the most you’d get is a groan—and that was more than you could ever muster up from him.

“Jin—Jin—p-ple-please! I need to—ah—cum—!” Your words were cut short when he reached his hand around your throat to squeeze it softly. But you moan louder, and your pussy responds by getting tighter around his cock.

He chuckles in a low timbre from behind you, hips slightly stuttering—and you know this is a sign of his release coming soon—and you push your hips back to meet his pace, causing him to hiss at the sudden action.

Jin stares at you from the mirror for the night, and you release he always has a similar expression when he’s approaching his high. Something cold, detached yet melancholic. You could never read him enough, because by the time you think you’ve got an answer—he demands.

“Cum.”

And you do. Hard. Spots of white taint your vision like an angel trying to cleanse you from your sins. But the way you blackout for a second shows you no mercy and reminds you that Jin was the devil and you were his plaything.

“Ffffffff—” You can barely breathe. But it’s a pleasurable feeling—the only thing suffocating is the aftermath. When he leaves, barely sparing you another glance.

And you feel him cum with you, deep spurts of white painting your pussy as you feel full of him. Like he’s here to stay. He pushes you back onto him and revels in your limp body. You allow him.

When he pulls out, you’re exhausted. And you can tell he is, too. He’s heaving, and he helps you onto your back by placing a pillow under your back and head. He’s caring, but only out of decency, not commitment. You’re tired too, but it’s the type of tired that settles into your bones. The tired you only feel after sex with Seokjin because you know you’re sleeping alone.

He’s meticulous and quick, just like he always is. It’s the same routine that you’re unfortunately intimate with. He searches for his pants, slips on his shirt and grabs his keys and wallet. They’re always on your desk; never anywhere else because that implies that the routine was breaking. Jin would never break that—not with you, at least.

“Won’t you stay?”

Your voice is soft as it breaks through the atmosphere. You seem to catch him off guard for a moment but he’s tedious at not showing anything more than he needs to. He casts you a glance over his shoulders and you feel oddly vulnerable with your naked body, a blanket draped over your curves in a way that should be enticing. But you knew it wasn’t—because he only wanted you in the heat of the moment and every second after that is a reminder of who you were.

“Since when did we do that?” He snorts, quickly carding a hand through his hair while he checks his appearance.

And as always, he looks kept together while you were left ruined at the expense of his hands.

“We don’t,” you say softly, “I just thought …” your voice wavers when he raises a brow at you, causing you to hesitate in your words but you’re oddly determined today. Maybe you’re tired of the heartache, “It’s late.”

He looks at you for a long second before rolling his eyes and stalking you. Your heart clenches in expectation, but all Jin does is reach a hand around your chin when he leans down to bring your face inches away from his. Your eyes are hopeful when you look into his. The gentle orbs that peer back could fool anyone into thinking that he was tender and loving—but you’ve never seen that side of him. You only saw him when he was overtaken by desire, hard and tall when he fucks into you like a rag doll while he smirks at your slacked body.

“That’s cute,” he grins widely as your breath hitches, “But that’s not what we do, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment is anything but endearing. It’s mocking and it hurts.

“I …” You croak.

Then he releases you, finger lightly pushing your chin so that you’d fall back onto your palms. He checks his phone with a casual grin, likely being called over to another party—or anywhere else that wasn’t your home. Your heart shatters all over again, but you’re used to it. The glass that scrapes your skin is stained with blood but you’re a sucker for the pain.

“I’ll call you,” is all that he leaves you with before he’s helping himself out of your room, leaving the door open in his way. He doesn’t care for formalities, not even when you see him bump into your roommate on the way out. He gives a wave of acknowledgement, but nothing else—because who would introduce their fuck-buddy to their roommate?

But Jungkook knew. Of course, he did. You weren’t subtly because you hoped if someone knew then it’d be a little more real for you to hold onto. That ugly seedling of hope that blooms in your chest every time Jungkook would catch a glimpse of Jin leaving your room makes you wonder what it’d feel like if you could have him over for dinners, for movie nights—for it all.

But you can only do that; wonder.

The door creaks ever so slightly and only do you realise that the tears return. You automatically know who it is, because it’s the same routine. It’s the same song that you hear each time he comes over and it’s on an unhealthy loop of replays when you feel your bed dip.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Jungkook whispers.

You don’t care that you’re bare. Jungkook’s seen you in worse states. Drunk off your mind, on the verge of collapse when you’d hope the alcohol would take the pain away. He’s a good roommate—but he really needs to mind his own business.

“Stop.”

“He’s a fucking asshole,” he sneers, grabbing your arm so that you’d look at him.

He hates that your eyes are red, and he hates that the bruises on your neck and chest match. The room smells heady of sex, and Jungkook has to endure the same pain you feel but tenfold when he watches your lips wobble the longer he stares.

“I love him, Jungkook.” You sob, leaning into his chest when he sighs for the umpteenth time, hearing the same thing leave your lips. It never got easier.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jungkook spits, the thought of Jin returning only making his fists ball tighter when they rest around your bare shoulders, “Stop this. Stop going back to him.”

“Why doesn’t he want me?” You cry, hot tears wetting the fabric of Jungkook’s shirt.

“Why do you want him?” Jungkook returns, voice raising when he pulls back.

His eyes are blazing, the anger in his chest is only exponentially increasing the more he sees you heave. The tears that leave your eyes makes his heart clench and makes him want to chase that son of a bitch down and make sure he’d never see you again. But Jungkook finds himself staying still because you were here. In his arms—even if it you weren’t his.

But he’s still angry, and his mouth runs hotter than ever.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself, huh?” Jungkook grabs your shoulders, forcing you to stare at him with swollen eyes, “You know he’s just using you! All he does is fuck you and leave. He doesn’t love you—and he will never love you so stop doing this to yourself and leave him before you continue hurting yourself like this!”

“Fuck you,” you spit through the tears.

“Because I’m telling you the truth?” He sneers, “Because I’m telling you things that you already know but are too damn scared to do?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jungkook!” You scream, pushing at his chest. But he grabs your wrist and levels you with a menacing stare while his own chest rises and falls with every breath of air he takes.

Your anger is muffled by your tears, and it’s a mixture of pain and rage when you peer at him. Jungkook’s so tired. He’s tired of feeling this way—of seeing you destroy yourself when you deserved more than anything anyone could ever offer.

“No,” Jungkook deadpans, “You’re going to listen to me and you’re doing this now.”

“I’m not doing anything! So let—me—go—!” You thrash in his hold, but Jungkook only tightens his grip around your wrists in a warning.

“Delete his number.”

“I can’t do that,” you say weakly.

“You can and you fucking will,” Jungkook says vehemently.

And as a point, he reaches for your phone that rests on your nightstand; and before you can process what he’s doing—he’s thumbing through your contacts and hovering over the one person you always seem to go back to.

“Jungkook, no—!”

But the damage is done, and Jungkook presses delete. For some reason, you feel absolutely nothing. But you’re angry, you’re angry because Jungkook’s always the person you see when it hurts the most and even through his words—all you want to do is scream.

“I hate you so much!” You scream.

Jungkook chuckles, dark and humourless as he runs his fingers through his hair. He stares to the side, jaw clenching in annoyance when you continue to cry and sob. He wanted to tell you to shut up—to stop crying over someone who’s probably already fucking the next breathing thing in his direction. But he doesn’t, because Jungkook’s impulsive. More so than he’d like.

“Yeah?” Jungkook scoffs, “You hate me? The person who’s trying his best to protect you?”

“You’re not protecting me!” You snap.

He ignores your indignant tone before levelling you with a blank stare that intimidates you more than you’ve ever been of Jungkook. He’s fuming, but it’s a calm before the storm that rattles your heartbeat against your chest. He looks livid.

“You hate me and love that fucking idiot?” He snarls, inching closer as you back away.

The growl in Jungkook’s chest is unheard of because more often than not he was level-headed. An annoying prick but calm and collected at most. This is the first time you’ve seen Jungkook look anything less than composed—and it was because of you.

“I can’t—I can’t control my feelings,” you say sourly.

He snorts, fully sarcastic and intentionally mocking when he looks at you with a hooded gaze.

“Isn’t that the fucking truth.”

“What the hell are you saying,” you narrow your eyes at him.

Oddly, you’re having this conversation when your tits are out—and only then do you consciously wrap your arms around your chest. His eyes immediately dart down to your subtle action and he rolls his eyes. You want to cuss him out, but Jungkook laughs. He laughs as if there was something funny—and you’re left even more confused.

“I’m saying that I fucking hate you,” he spits, face inching immensely closer as your eyes widen at his venomous tone.

“What—?”

“I hate you so much because you’re acting like an idiot chasing after someone who doesn’t give two shits about you.”

Your eyes well up with more tears as his words of bullets ricochet off your ears and settling deep in your heart. The harsh reminder makes your lips wobble and shoulders shake, but Jungkook doesn’t care.

“I hate you because you do this to yourself when you deserve so much more than what that prick can offer,” Jungkook says vehemently, hand wrapping around your chin to force your face to look at him.

Even now, when your eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, you look devastatingly beautiful.

“I hate you because I’ve been here this entire time and all you do is look for him,” Jungkook says softly, but his tone is still harsh, a sharp breath that erupts in his chest as well as yours as your eyes widen.

“Jungkook—”

“I’ve been here,” he croaks, and when you look into his eyes only do you see the pain, “I hate you so much because all I can do is love you.”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him, and you’re taking seconds too long to respond but your brain is processing the turn in events. But when you realise what he says, Jungkook’s pulling away. His hands retract themselves as if he’s been burnt and you were the flame responsible for it.

“Jungkook, wait—” you reach out. You were so confused, but you didn’t like the fact that he was leaving too.

“Don’t,” his eyes flutter shut in defeat, lips pursed, “Don’t touch me right now.”

Your face crumbles as you tug the blanket around your body until you’re resting on your knees and searching for his face.

“Can we talk—?”

“No,” he glares at you, and somehow—the look he gives you is far more painful than every moment Jin has ever walked out on you. Jungkook delivers the final blow when he snatches his hand away from yours completely.

“Figure your shit out because I’m done.”

And like always, you were left alone in your room—with more to think about than ever.

#requests #seokjin angst #jin angst #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #jungkook angst #drabble #seokjin mini #jungkook mini #angst

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imarizaki · 3 years

Text

— so this is love ˎˊ˗

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou was never too keen on the idea of love. but when it comes barreling into his life, he can’t stop indulging himself, even though he wishes he didn’t.

genre & warnings: fluff, a bit of angst ig (?), like one swear word i think, pining

a/n: shit not me writing this instead of continuing my long fics + the kuroo seriesjdkfkf

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been in love before. He’s never needed it, he reckons it’s better that way. It spares him the pain of heartache that comes along when those soft whispers of love stop. And it’s not like he had a good example of what love should be like, anyway — his hair being the primary testament to that.

He knows he doesn’t need love, and he’s alright with that. He doesn’t actively seek love from others (he claims he would rather live loveless than have to deal with fake affection). Still, everyone deserves love, and that’s something he finds out when love comes barreling into him. And it came in the form of a classmate — a stranger, if you will. Someone who he had no sort of relationship with — someone he could barely call an acquaintance. He didn’t know it at the time, but you would soon become someone dear to him (a fact you were oblivious to).

Love comes in the form of sharing pencils and exchanging notes, it comes in the form of hushed laughter in the library when you should be studying. Love, for both of you, comes in the form of slight banter in-between classes, the kind that leaves you smiling while you speak, the kind that leaves you with a feeling of joy. Soft, gentle whispers soon become loud, boisterous laughter shared between two friends. Short glances across the classroom evolve into longing stares between soon-to-be lovers.

Kuroo Tetsurou was slowly being wrapped in the warm embrace of love and he wished he was ignorant about it. He knows that loving you is the best thing that could happen to him. But that small part of him — the small child that had to endure listening to screaming every night — wishes he’d stopped this as soon as the fluttering of his heart started. But in the battle between his heart and mind no amount of denying would stop his heart for trying to reach for what he wanted.

And he ultimately has to accept that, love — in his heart — comes from you. He has no choice but to revel in the soft, airy feeling that love brings. He knows that if love meant feeling like he was levitating — if loving you meant that he’d feel such warmth he didn’t think himself capable of harboring — then, maybe falling in love isn’t so bad.

Still, while love proved to be his main motivator — mostly rooted from wanting to impress you — it also proved to be his biggest hindrance. The excitement that rushed through his veins when he saw you cheer for him turned into jealousy when he saw others approach you in the stands.

“Stop staring.”

Kuroo jumps. He whips his head around to find Kenma standing near him.

He clicks his tongue, “I’m not staring.”

“Of course you’re not,” Kenma huffs. He crosses his arms and walks closer to Kuroo.

“You need to tell them,” he says, his voice sounding resolute with what he’d just said.

Kuroo feels his throat close up and his heart pounding against his ribs as he frowns to at least try and pretend he isn’t nervous — not like it’d help his case, after all, it’s Kenma who knows.

“I don’t,” he slowly starts, “I don’t have anything to tell Y/N.” That’s a lie. He does have something to tell you. But he won’t (not yet, at least), because he wants to hold on to your precious friendship for as long as he can, even if that means shutting his own feelings down for the sake of the amity you’d both bloomed. And he knows that Kenma knows that was a lie too, because he chooses not to say anything, but he opts for glaring at him instead. Nevertheless, Kuroo still appreciates that Kenma chose to drop the subject, because he sure doesn’t want to talk about it. Not while his heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest, and certainly not while he knew that he wasn’t the best choice for you.

So, he settles on staring at you from the volleyball court. Because he loves you too much to cause unnecessary commotion, especially if you were the cause of it. He could never face the consequences of causing you any additional stress, no matter how much his heart wanted him to go and pull you away from the guy who was talking to you. This was probably the only time that his mind has reigned over his heart ever since he met you. And he didn’t even feel glad about it.

He probably would’ve cost his team the match if he hadn’t heard you shouting his name at the top of your lungs. He knows he has to keep his emotions in check, especially if they’re going to put all of his team’s hard work at stake.

He sighs. He truly was a reckless fool blinded by love — a love he used to be sure he didn’t want to feel — but, whatever he tried to do to stop himself from falling further into the pit of his love for you ended up backfiring. He was stuck in a never ending cycle of wanting to freely love you and wanting to get rid of these stupid emotions he didn’t need.

He looks around the stands to try and find you, until he feels a light tap to his shoulder. He turns around and he’s met with your grinning face. He hopes you can’t tell the difference from his blush and the way his face is flushed from sweat. He also hopes you can’t hear his thumping heart from where you’re standing. He feels as if his heart is doing flips just by seeing you standing in front of him — how he wishes he could simply stop that.

You clear your throat, “you did great out there, Kuroo!”

Pride swelled in him. His ego boosted at the fact that you’d kept your eyes on him and not that jackass that was flirting with you (psst: he wasn’t flirting, but Kuroo didn’t know that). He beams.

“You think so?”

You rapidly nodded.

“You looked really cool out there!” you smiled.

He rubs the back of his neck. He bites the inside of his cheek. You shyly look away. There’s a soft smile adorning your face, and Kuroo wishes more than anything that he could kiss you right now.

“I-“ you both started at the same time.

Kuroo chuckled, “what were you going to say?”

You shyly smiled.

“I was wondering if maybe, you’d like to go out?” you coughed, “you know, just the two of us?”

Kuroo feels his heart beat faster. Every fiber of his being overflowing with love and unadulterated ecstasy. He feels so light. Everything feels so right.

He smiles, “I’d love to.”

If this is what love was. If this is what loving you meant, then Kuroo Tetsurou would gladly fall in love with you over and over again. Even if it meant having to endure the good, the bad, and the ugly about loving someone with all of his heart.

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vdlest · 3 years

Text

Cap's Divulgence

Characters:

Steve Rogers x GF!Reader

Sort of Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff

Summary:

After six months of putting your relationship with Steve Rogers in much secrecy, the star-spangled man boyfriend of yours finally broke the news to everyone in a celebratory dinner.

Warning:

Fluff

What is supposed to be a simple celebratory dinner for the team's recent mission turns out to be the night when your relationship with Captain America is revealed by none other than your boyfriend himself.

"Since when did this happen?" Nat asked as you can see how puzzled and surprised she is by Steve's revelation.

"Oh, come on," Tony groaned, which made you and everyone in the room look on his way, "It's not like you guys don't see how they stare at each other when they're both in the same room," he said with matching rolling eyes.

You and Steve are quite aware that if there might be one person in the team who has a hint of your secret relationship, that would be Tony Stark.

And somehow you thought Nat would have the same hunch. After all, she's Black Widow, the Russian spy. But it turns out, your friend is completely unaware since she's too busy playing hide the zucchini with Bruce and until now they haven't gone on a date.

"Wait up," Nat raised her hand to stop Steve from continuing his announcement then she turned to you, "Y/N, you and I were roommates when we were in Florida and you didn't mention anything about this. Why?" she asked.

You and Nat were more than just roommates in Florida, you two are like sisters, almost like twins. She was the one who trained you when you first join the team, she was the first person you confide in about your identity and how you lost your family when you were still a teenager, and you two were inseparable when it comes to rescuing each other's ass in terms of war, mission, life, and also love.

"Sorry Nat," you gave her a small smile, "I wanted to but Steve and I decided to just keep it low since we have no idea how you guys will take it."

"Yeah," Steve rescued you from Nat's surprise questions, "We know you guys would be somehow surprised to know that we are together now."

Why you and Steve thought of how they'll react? Because a year ago, Steve was cornered by the team, except you, of course, asking him if he'll ever date you and his answer is a big no no no.

Steve then explained to you the reason why he didn't want to date you because he thinks that you're too good for him, that you don't deserve to have a pain in the ass like him in your life. He knows how being an Avenger can be hard and making you date someone from the same course of work may cause you too much pain. But obviously, he has always been fond of you, even before he was asked by that question. He has always been into you.

"I'm quite aware of your adoration with Y/N, Rogers," Sam points his finger at Steve, "But I thought you don't want to date her because quote she's too good to be true for you unquote," he added making a gesture in the air.

"Yeah!" Bruce yelled and shook his head, "And now you two are a thing?"

"Why did you fondue her?" Nat asked.

"Because I can't get enough of her," Steve sighed as he tries to explain himself, "One day I woke up, I don't want to be just her co-worker, her colleague, her friend. I woke up one day, I already want to be with her, and that is it. I took my coward ass in front of her door and asked her out."

That's how it happened.

You just woke up from an afternoon nap in your room in the compound when you heard a knock on your door. You thought it was just Thor, Bruce, and Nat asking you to join them in a quick bar hopping, but you were too tired to join them. To your surprise, you opened the door and found a nervous muscled, and blonde man in front of you. You thought he's just gonna ask you about your training with him later that week, but no, he asked you if you want to visit a nearby museum with him, he knew you are fond of museums and art so that's how you and Steve Grant Rogers had your first date.

It was also that same night when he told you that he can't just be in the same room with you being completely unaware of what he truly feels for you. So yeah, he confessed to you that night. And that date night followed by another, and another, and another, until he asked you to be officially his and without any doubt, you said yes Steve, I love you too.

"Woah," Clint reacted after Steve finished his storytelling, "These happened under our nose and we had no idea?" he asked, still unsure whether he's dreaming or not. "The last time we talked, Rogers, you told me you weren't seeing anyone," Clint added.

Steve gave Clint an apologetic smile, "Had to lie. Sorry 'bout that, and yeah," he sighed as he looks each member of the team, "Sorry about the little lie and secrecy Y/N and I made. Hope you guys won't be mad at us. We just really don't know how you guys would react about us."

You stood up and stood in front of where Nat is sitting, she looks at you as you try to reach for her hand, "Hey, sorry for this secret. I just..."

Nat cut you off, "Don't be a fool, Y/N," she stood up and held your arms, "I understand and I think I will just do the same thing if I'm in your place. I completely understand and I respect your decision as a couple," she playfully rolled her eyes, "God, can't believe you two are a thing now."

You chuckle as you open your arms to embrace her.

You just really had to make sure that Nat is not offended nor mad at you for keeping your relationship with Steve a secret from her. It was a good thing she understood why you did what you did and it only means she's truly happy for you and Steve.

When you and Nat pull away from each other, you saw Bruce standing in your peripheral, you thought he's gonna hug you and you were already ready to embrace the big guy, but he didn't come to you, he approached Nat instead.

"Uh-oh, someone got jealous," Tony being his usual jerky self.

"So Steve and Y/N had to be in a relationship before you finally made up your mind and ask me out?" Nat sarcastically asked Bruce and that made everyone laugh.

You step a bit away from the two and you felt an arm behind you, realizing it was your boyfriend, you cling your arms around him too as you all watch Bruce and Nat.

"I don't know why it took me so long to do this, but I don't want to waste my time and wait for another ancient man to get ahead of me," Bruce is obviously nervous while looking at Nat, but there's no more holding back, "So, Natasha Romanoff, can we have a proper date after tonight?"

"Well, I don't want your other friend to show up, so yeah," Nat nodded, "I'll go out with you."

You saw how prepared Natasha was to have a glance at you and gave you a "finally he asked me out" smile, but before she could do it, Bruce cupped her face and kissed her on her lips, and that made everyone gasp in surprise.

"Is this what we call domino effect?" Steve whispered to your ear before he planted a kiss on the side of your head.

You look at him, "Why do men take so long to finally ask a woman out?" you asked him back.

"Well, it's worth the wait, right?" he asked you.

"Yeah, it was worth it," you said as you tilt your head and tiptoe to give your man a kiss on his lips.

-v.dl

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x You #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x Y/N #Captain America x You #Captain America x Reader #Captain America x Y/N #Captain America fluff #Steve Rogers fluff #Steve Rogers imagine #Captain America imagine #Steve Rogers fanfiction #Captain America fanfiction #Marvel #Marvel Imagine #Marvel Fluff #Marvel fanfiction #Captain America

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blazedbakugou · 3 years

Text

selfish

In which Bakugou finally gives in to his heart’s desires despite his brain’s protests and allows himself to be selfish just this once.

a/n: this is the part two of my Bakugou fic I posted a while back. Though reading the first one will provide more context, this fic can also be read alone.

read part one here!

read part three here!

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warnings: angst but there’s a happy ending, aged up characters

word count: 2.4k

pairing(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (romantic)

selfish - PnB Rock

Bakugou looked out the car window as he watched trees, buildings, and streetlights disappear from view. The car ride back home from Kirishima’s was a quiet one, perfect for contemplation and revelations. He was so deep in thought that he had failed to notice that this wasn’t the route to his apartment but instead it was on the way to yours.

“Oi, Shitty Hair, where are you taking me? My place is that way,” he pointed his thumb in the opposite direction.

Kirishima glanced over at him before focusing on the road ahead, “well, I just thought that you two needed to sort things out… so I’m taking you to their place.”

“Yeah? Well, what makes you think I wanna talk to that dumbass?” Bakugou grunted.

Except, that wasn’t what he was worried about. He knew that he’d royally fucked up at the party from the week before, and the guilt had been eating away at him since. Bakugou was aware that you had every right to be upset with him and he wouldn’t be too surprised if you didn’t want to speak to him after your fallout. He just hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

“Don’t gotta lie to me, Bakubro. That wouldn’t be very manly of you, besides I’m tired of seeing you look so miserable.”

Your apartment complex came into view as Kirishima turned a corner, entering the parking lot.

“Tch, if this goes wrong then I just want you to remember that it was your idea to take me here.” The blonde scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

- - -

Bakugou wiped his hands against the material of his pants, drying off the sweat that had collected on his walk to your front door. He went over everything he wanted to say in his head before taking a deep breath and knocking on the wooden door. The voice in his head nagged at him louder than ever to turn around and never look back, he could get away in time if he ran, he thought. With each passing second, the voice grew louder and louder until the idea sounded nearly too tempting to pass up. Of course, before he could walk away and flee the scene, you answered the door.

“What do you want, Bakugou?”

He glanced up to look at you, grimacing at the coldness in your voice and how could he ignore the way you’d called him by his last name? Though his mind was soon filled with other concerns, like how exhausted you looked and sounded.

“Just wanted to talk…” his voice came out uncharacteristically timid as if he was afraid you’d slam the door in his face any second now.

You scoffed bitterly, “oh really? Now you want to talk? Thought you were too busy?”

“Look, I know I fucked up. Trust me, I know. So can we just go inside so we can talk?” Bakugou awkwardly shifted back and forth on his feet, hands shoved into his pockets while his gaze remained on you.

A brief silence filled the air between you two as he waited for your response, nervously chewing on his bottom lip in the meantime. You sighed before silently pushing the door open and stepping aside, warily letting him in once again. Shutting the door behind him, you motioned for him to head towards the couch.

“Just… wait here,” you said before disappearing into your room.

The blonde felt out of place as he stood in your living room, decorated with picture frames on the walls. He hadn’t been in your apartment in a long time, probably not since your housewarming party that you threw shortly after graduating from UA. The place didn’t look that much different from what he remembered, you still had the same rug, though it had a few stains now and the scent of the caramel apple scented candles you loved still lingered in the air.

After a few moments of standing in place awkwardly, he hesitantly walked towards the chimney to further inspect a picture that had caught his attention. It was a photo of you and him back when you still attended UA, the very same photo he’d kept in his wallet all these years. Hesitantly picking up the picture frame, he felt himself relax a bit as he reminisced all the good memories he shared with you.

“Miss those days?”

Your voice spooked him enough to clumsily place the picture frame back to where it belonged. Unsure what to say, Bakugou remained silent though his eyes spoke for him. God, he missed those times dearly.

“Yeah,” you sighed before walking into the living room, “I do too. Everything was a lot less confusing back then.”

Still, at a loss for words, Bakugou followed you like a lost puppy to the couch before tentatively sitting down. He felt like an idiot for not being able to use his words and get this over with, but it was your presence that turned him into a speechless fool.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? Or are you going to finally tell me what the fuck is going on?” You rolled your eyes at him from the opposite end of the sofa.

“Uh, yeah I just- I don’t know what to say.” He admitted bashfully.

“You’re joking, right? You don’t know what to say? Why are you even here?”

“No- that’s not what I meant. Obviously, I came here to get some things off my chest. I’m just not very good at this sort of thing and...” his voice trailed off into nothing but silence.

“Spit it out already, for fucks sake. I’m tired of waiting, Bakugou.” Your harshness stung but he knew he deserved it.

“Listen, I came to say that… I’m sorry. Okay? I know that I’ve been an asshole and probably caused you a few headaches,” he noticed your scoff before continuing, “I was dealing with some personal issues and took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

“What personal issues were you dealing with that could’ve warranted you treating me like shit? What could’ve been so bad that you shoved aside all our years of friendship and pretended like I didn’t even fucking exist, huh?”

Up until this point, you’d done a decent job at keeping your feelings bottled up. Years of doubt, pain, and confusion were all kept under wraps until now.

“Do you have any idea how much sleep I’ve lost staying up wondering what I did wrong and why you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore? Do you have any clue how much it hurt when I realized that my supposed best friend didn’t want to talk to me anymore?”

There was a certain rawness behind your words, a glimpse at your emotions that showed how hurt you truly were. Bakugou could tell that you were upset, and rightfully so. He knew he needed to hurry up and get his point across before it was too late, and yet he remained frozen in place. Mind racing at a million miles per hour, heart seemingly beating accordingly. At one point, your words had stopped registering in his head, all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat.

“Oh, my god! Are you even listening?” You exclaimed exasperatedly.

Bakugou blinked a few times before replying, “yes! I’m listening, I just- there’s a lot on my mind and it’s- it’s a lot.”

You stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response to the rant you’d just dumped on him. It was hard to look at him for longer than a few seconds, and if you looked for a moment longer, you feared that you’d give in and forgive him. But you needed to stay strong and stand your ground, you couldn’t keep putting up with his shit forever and pretend like it was okay. You deserved better.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he sighed.

“Well, you did.”

His eyes flashed a look of guilt before he averted his gaze to his lap, “I know I did, and I’m sorry. Didn’t mean for things to get this bad, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Okay… but I still want an explanation as to why you suddenly decided to change your attitude towards me.”

“I know! I’m getting there, damn it. This isn’t easy for me, you know. I’m trying my best so just… be patient with me.” He frowned.

“Can I… can I try something? Do you trust me?” Your expression softened, body turning towards him.

“Tch. I guess so.” Bakugou grumbled.

“Then I want you to come here and rest your head on my lap, like the old days. Remember?” You offered him a slight smile as you patted your thighs.

A confused expression fell upon Bakugou’s face as he stared back at you. It took him a moment before he slowly let his guard down just enough to do as you said, hesitantly resting his head on your lap. You smiled down at him before gently rubbing circles on his temples, something you did back in UA whenever he strained himself too much during training. A noticeable silence filled the room as he felt himself melting into your embrace, something he had missed dearly.

“Now, go ahead and talk to me. I’m listening.”

Bakugou nodded before taking a deep breath, “you’re too kind for your own good, you know. I don’t deserve this, and I sure as hell don’t deserve you, not after everything I’ve done.”

“Ssh, just keep talking.”

“But it’s the truth…” he sighed, “you want to know why I’ve been so distant?”

You hummed.

The blonde shut his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts, “it’s ‘cause I was doing you a favor— or at least I thought I was. I thought that by leaving you in the past, with my memories of UA, that I’d be able to make things easier on the both of us. Apparently, that wasn’t the case because here we are, three years later back to square one.”

“Why would you think that would be such a good idea?”

“Because… all my life I’ve been this selfish bastard who destroyed everything in his path to get to the top. I’ve done fucked up shit that caused so much pain, so much destruction and if I could take it all back then trust me, I would. Eventually, I got tired of being the bad guy, so I decided that it would be best if I just left you alone.”

Your hands ceased momentarily, “So let me get this straight. You thought that you’d be doing me a favor by ghosting me with no warning? Didn’t you ever stop to consider just how hard it would be for me to lose my best friend?”

“You think it’s been any easier on me?” He scoffed.

“I feel like there’s still more you’re not telling me.”

“Yeah… I guess there’s no more avoiding it now, is there?”

“Nope.”

A sigh slipped past the blonde’s lips, “Figured. Listen here dumbass ‘cause I’m only saying this once. I didn’t exactly plan on falling for my best friend, but I did. It scared the hell out of me at first, just ask Shitty Hair. It still scares me if I’m completely honest.”

“How long? Since you realized that you had feelings for me?” You questioned.

“Far too long.”

Truthfully, Bakugou couldn’t have given you an accurate response even if he wanted to. He had no idea when these feelings had started to develop, all he knew was that one day you smiled at him and he felt his heart race like never before.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Be happy that I even told you because I was already set on taking these feelings with me to the grave.”

“Is it really so bad that you like me?” You frowned.

Part of you knew that Bakugou was never the best at putting things nicely and usually it didn’t bother you. Not after years of growing accustomed to his blunt honesty. But that didn’t mean that his words didn’t sting just a tiny bit. Sure, you were happy that you’d gotten your answer but perhaps you’d be happier if he didn’t seem so bothered by the fact that he had feelings for you.

“You need to stop doing that. Stop talking about yourself like you’re just another damn extra. All my life, I’ve looked down on others. Never thought anyone would ever be as great as me. Yet, here you are and now I realize that I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you.”

Bakugou let out a frustrated sigh before sitting up and distancing himself from you, “So maybe it is bad that I like you as much as I do. ‘Cause, you deserve to be with someone perfect for you and I am far from that… Except, I don’t want to let you go. I’m fuckin’ selfish and I want to keep you all to myself. It’s fucked up, I know, but it’s the truth.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, too busy processing all the information that had been dumped on you. It was a lot, but not necessarily in a bad way. There’d always been a glimmer of hope in the back of your mind that he felt the same way but you never expected him to ever admit it. Now that everything was out in the open, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy. Katsuki Bakugou, your best friend whom you’d been secretly harboring feelings for had finally admitted that those feelings were mutual.

“I’m the idiot that fell in love with their best friend...” the blonde mumbled, low enough that you’d nearly missed it.

If he had said anything else before that sentence then you hadn’t heard it, you found it hard to focus on his words when all you could think about was kissing him. Ignoring the nerves racing through your body, you took a leap of faith and gently shoved him down onto the sofa, leaning in for a kiss. Bakugou’s face heated up almost instantly with the blush spread across his face as evidence, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head.

You smiled against his lips, “Well, then I guess that makes two of us.”

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