#actually insinuated isn’t right. he straight up said it

[empress-hancock]

Oh this is hysterical

#i am addicted to zoro slander it’s so unfortunate it is the least common slander in the whole fandom #this man is a doofus he’s a moron he sits on his ass while nami shovels the snow off the deck and sleeps while she busts her ass #he’s a dick and he picks on others and then laughs when they tell him to stop bullying him #(source: in punk hazard he did this to brook. brook literally said ‘stop bullying me’) #he insinuated that robin should not have been fought by a foe at full strength because ‘she’s a woman’ #actually insinuated isn’t right. he straight up said it #i know people think sanji thinks women are weak and that’s why he doesn’t hit them or saves the girls but #he saves EVERYONE. and does it not because he thinks anyone is weak #(he has on numerous occasions praised nami and robin’s strenth. and he has trusted them both to save HIM when he needed it) #he saves others because he doesn’t want to see his friends hurt. that’s it. he is the kindest of the crew. having turned multiple foes into #allies just by being nice #oh but anyway. the reason he doesn’t hit women is because Zeff threatened to castrate him if he ever did #so… saying that to a child has an impact #and if Sanji is so scared of disappointing zeff that he wouldn’t let SOMEONE ELSE kill his physically and mentally abusive family #then he probably isn’t going to disobey him on the women thing #it’s probably not even abt the castration anymore he just has fucking stockholm syndrome #zeff was abusive too but i think he’s desperate for a father and doesn’t want to let him down #he and Usopp have Issues with admiring terrible dads #anyway

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Hop & Joyce don't really like or trust Steve & he knows it. He can tell by their behavior towards him. Post spring break from Hell, Steve tears into them both after they insinuate that it's his fault for the kids being hurt. Steve YELLING at them in front of the party bc he is injured more grievously than the kids & he once again protected them, to the detriment of himself.

Joyce & Hop are forced to acknowledge that their behavior was cruel. And they have to apologize but Steve doesn't accept their apology straight away.

I am usually such a sucker for Hopper adopting Steve and treating him as his own that this was really difficult. Like, maybe top 5 most difficult things I have ever written. It's kind of short, but I wanted more of the focus to be on people standing up for Steve and Steve standing up for himself than the actual angsty part. My darling, I hope it lives up to expectations! -Mickala ❤️

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

“I guess I just don’t understand how Max ended up like this if Steve was supposed to be protecting them all.”

Joyce’s words echoed in Steve’s head.

She was whispering to Hopper in the waiting room, but it was surprisingly quiet, and easy to hear just about anything.

The kids were asleep on the couches, waiting for any news on Max or Eddie, but the nurses told them it could be hours. Hours were a long time to wait when someone was bleeding out and the other someone had multiple broken bones and was unconscious.

Steve felt untethered, his connection to the earth cut the moment he saw what happened to Eddie, pushed into a dangerous orbit when he saw what happened to Max.

“He’s never really let me down like this. Did you hear Dustin say he thinks he was distracted by Eddie?” Hopper asked quietly.

“What did he mean by that?” Joyce paused. “Oh. Do you think so?” Steve couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t see the way they were having a silent conversation within a conversation. “It wouldn’t be the first time Steve let his romantic feelings get in the way of their safety.”

And that really wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair because he always put these kids who weren’t even his first whenever he could. It wasn’t fair because it wasn’t his job to be perfect. It wasn’t fair because they were the adults who should have been here to help and they weren’t.

He could feel tears building up, his vision getting just blurry enough that he knew he needed to walk away or he would start actually crying, and he couldn’t let anyone see that.

Especially not Joyce and Hopper.

Apparently, they already thought so little of him, he couldn’t possibly show them that he was struggling now.

“I think we’ll have to have a talk with the kids about trusted adults. They seem to rely on him for a lot and maybe if we just explain to them that Steve can’t handle it-”

“Excuse me, Mr. Hopper?” A nurse, thankfully, interrupted them.

Steve turned to see a young nurse, probably barely older than him, standing in the entranceway to the waiting room.

Hopper walked over to her, actually whispering this time, as if what was being said right now was a secret, but not the way he felt about Steve.

He glanced over at Steve, then nodded to the nurse. He called Joyce over to them, whispered something, then they both looked at Steve.

He hated what was happening. He was used to being a disappointment to adults, but in a silent way. His parents weren’t really ever around long enough to show their disappointment for long. Seeing it now, on the faces of people he respected and wanted to impress, hurt.

Hopper started walking over to him, his face serious.

“They have Max stable. She may not wake up from the coma, but they’re hoping she makes a turn for the better soon. Eddie woke up a few minutes ago while they were trying to stitch him up and he kept yelling for you. He isn’t quite stable yet. He passed back out as they were trying to put him on oxygen.”

“But they’re both alive?”

“For now.”

“Can I see Max?”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea right now. They’re trying to reach her mom, but the phone lines keep going down. I’m standing in as the adult responsible until she can be contacted.”

“So now you want to be the adult responsible? Not any other time when we needed you?” Erica said from behind them.

She’d been asleep with Lucas and El only a minute ago.

“Erica, it’s fine. I’ll just wait with you guys.”

“No, Steve, it’s not fine.” Erica put her hands on her hips, scowled up at Hopper and Joyce, who had just joined them. “Steve looks out for us every day. Even when the world isn’t trying to end. He drives us to school or from school or to the arcade, he pays for our food at the diner all the time, probably spends all his paychecks on us. And where are the parents? They don’t even know where we are most of the time.”

“But-” Joyce started to interrupt until Erica held up her hand.

“You left your kids to fly to Russia when you knew something weird was going on. You could have died, and then what? You know who would have stepped in? Steve. Because that’s what he does for us. Do you know one of his worst concussions was because he was protecting Lucas and Max from Billy? You know he drove Max everywhere she needed to go all year because she didn’t wanna be around anyone else? How about the fact that without him, we wouldn’t have even been able to get Eddie back here? But sure, blame him for this. It totally makes sense to point the finger at the one person who has protected us over and over again.”

Steve was crying.

The other kids were starting to wake up from her voice getting louder as she spoke, and it didn’t take long for them to realize what was happening.

El and Dustin surrounded Steve, cuddling into his sides to comfort him. He needed it, and he was always willing to accept love from the kids. They so rarely gave it, not because they didn’t love him, but because they were at that age where they didn’t want to.

These kids were his in almost every way that mattered, and he was just grateful that they weren’t hesitating when he needed them most.

“You kids could have died. Steve should have never allowed most of this to happen. He’s the adult, and he let you all go into this without even considering you could die.”

“You think we were just gonna sit around and wait for the adults to handle it? When have we ever done that?” Dustin asked incredulously.

“It’s what you should have done. Steve knows that.”

“Mr. Harrington?” A different nurse was standing in the doorway now, older, definitely less nervous.

“Yes?” Steve responded, wiping his tears away quickly.

“Mr. Munson is in a recovery room. He’s woken up a few times for a minute and each time he’s asked for you. Are you family?”

He was pretty certain hospital policy meant only family could go back, especially during natural disasters, so he lied.

“Yes, he’s my cousin. I can’t reach anyone else yet.”

The nurse smiled, though she probably didn’t quite believe him.

“Right this way, then.”

Dustin tugged on his arm.

“Can I come with you?”

“Sorry,” Steve shook his head. “Not yet. Let me check on him, and I’ll come right back out for you.”

“See? This is what I meant about letting his feelings get in the way! What if we weren’t here? Would you just leave the kids to sit out here alone?”

This time, El spoke up.

“Steve is always putting us first. He can put himself first sometimes. That is allowed.”

Steve wanted to hug her again, but the nurse looked like she was going to walk away, and if he didn’t follow her, he wouldn’t see Eddie.

“Go see him, we’ll be here,” Lucas said from next to Erica.

He nodded at them all, giving them a smile before he followed the nurse without looking back at Hopper or Joyce.

Eddie was asleep when they entered the room, so the nurse whispered to him at the door.

“He’s on a lot of morphine, and he’s still receiving a blood transfusion. He may wake up off and on, but he probably won’t make much sense until they lower the dose. Just be here for him,” she smiled before leaving the room.

Steve turned to Eddie and couldn’t hold back more tears.

He’d let him down. He’d let all of them down.

He was supposed to be the hero, despite the jokes about it all, they all knew he was.

But not this time.

Eddie almost died. Max almost died.

He could feel the bat bite on his stomach burning and itching, like it was already getting infected, but he ignored it.

He could wait.

He sat down on the side of the bed, slowly so he wouldn’t wake Eddie up.

But Eddie’s eyes fluttered open once, then twice, then a third time before they managed to stay open enough to see Steve.

“Stevie?” His voice rasped out, a small smile hidden under his oxygen mask. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, Eds.”

He had to be strong, but his brain was so focused on everything he’d done wrong and if he’d just been faster or got out of the vines quicker, Eddie probably wouldn’t be here and Max would be awake and-

“Stop.”

“Hm? Stop what?”

“Bein’ mean.”

Steve’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t even said anything else, had he? Was he so exhausted that he was actually talking without realizing it now?

“I’m not even saying anything.”

Maybe it was Eddie hearing things. He knew morphine was pretty intense.

“To yourself.”

“What?”

“Bein’ mean to yourself. In your head.”

“I-”

“‘S okay. Me too sometimes. Just gotta stop.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the way Eddie’s eyes kept drooping closed as he spoke. He would probably fall back asleep any second.

“I’ll be nice. You get some sleep.”

“You rest?”

“Not yet. Maybe later.”

Steve couldn’t really rest until he knew everyone was home, safe, and sleeping off some of the worst of their injuries.

“Yes yet.”

Steve snorted. Eddie was so high. He knew it was better than whatever pain he would feel when they eased him off of everything, but hopefully he wouldn’t remember all this.

“Sleep,” Eddie said, his hand managing to find Steve’s and tugging weakly on it.

“I can’t sleep here, Eds. This is your bed.”

“Our bed.”

Steve’s cheeks were hot, he knew if he touched them, they’d feel like fire. Eddie just had that way of completely rendering Steve speechless. He’d done it so many times over the last couple of days, Steve lost count.

“I’ll stay right here until your uncle gets here, okay?”

“And after?”

It probably wasn’t smart. It would look weird for him to stay in general, but he also had to get the kids home, try to patch himself up at home, maybe shower before he did some rounds and made sure everyone was taken care of.

“I have to take care of the kids.”

“But they have parents.”

“Yeah, well.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Hopper walked in, face as serious as Steve had ever seen it.

“I was able to contact your uncle, Eddie. You can go now, Steve.”

But Eddie gripped his hand harder, frowning at Hopper. He seemed more awake all of a sudden, but with the way his eyes kept trying to close, Steve could see it was a challenge.

“I want him here.”

“Eds, it’s fine. He’s not too happy with me right now, so-”

“What? Why? You helped save the world.”

Eddie was looking between Steve and Hopper like an answer would suddenly make itself known, but Hopper was just staring at Eddie, and Steve was just staring at his feet.

He didn’t want to get Eddie involved in this. He just wanted to pretend it never happened, maybe try to look Hopper in the eye again someday, and apologize to Joyce for not keeping the kids as safe as he could have.

But Eddie apparently took the “no running” thing very seriously now.

“Steve? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just. I kinda let them down, didn’t keep everyone safe.”

Steve shrugged it off, but he knew he wasn’t very convincing, or really even shrugging it off. He still felt the ache of disappointing people in his chest.

“Hold the fuck up. You’re serious?”

Eddie sounded as outraged as someone high on morphine could. His voice was barely distorted by the oxygen mask on his face, and his eyes were nearly at their normal size.

Steve couldn’t look at either of them.

“Steve is trusted by all these parents to keep their kids out of danger, and he brought them headfirst into it. It just made Joyce and I wonder how often they were doing stupid things,” Hopper explained, though he didn’t even sound convinced he believed his own words.

Joyce was walking in just as Eddie was about to speak.

“Steve, I think you should bring Dustin home. Claudia is going to get worried.”

He didn’t need to look up to know that Eddie was glaring at Joyce and Hopper.

“Let me get this straight. Steve provides free rides, and babysitting services, and meals, and fun for your kids damn near every day. He protects them during this shit every time it happens, literally puts his body on the line to keep them alive. Tried to somehow keep them as safe as possible when it seemed like the world was ending this time, did keep them alive, and you’re still finding reasons to blame him?”

They both had the decency to at least look like they regretted it.

But they still didn’t say anything.

“Fuck this. I’m not gonna pretend to know everything about your little Upside Down Club, but I’m in it now. None of us wanna be here, but we are. Steve’s been doing his best for years, since he was a kid, and all you can do is complain that your sweet angels aren’t completely unscathed? This is a team effort, you know that. They volunteered. Steve would have had to lock them in a prison cell for them not to help.”

Steve looked up at Eddie, watched as he started to lose the fire that had overtaken him temporarily, his eyes dulling as the morphine dripped into his veins and flushed through his system.

“Best damn babysitter…” Eddie mumbled as his eyes fell closed.

Steve watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he suddenly woke up again. When he didn’t, he stood up slowly, didn’t want to risk him feeling the bed move, and made his way to the door.

But something hurt in his chest, something he knew wouldn’t go away unless he said something.

He turned to see Hopper and Joyce staring at each other, having a silent conversation.

“I’m used to disappointing people. I’ve been disappointing my parents my whole life. Disappointed friends, Nancy, bosses. But I have never let those kids down. I do my best with them. I try to be there for them the way I wish someone had been there for me. I make sure they’re kids because life handed them a shitty card or whatever and they deserve to still be kids. You can be mad at me if you want, but I know I did my best. They know I did my best.”

He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t want to hear them say anything else about how wrong his decisions were.

But Joyce stopped him from leaving the room, hand on his arm.

“Steve, wait. Honey, I’m sorry. I think…I think we got caught up in the moment and just needed someone to blame.”

“You do the best you can. We know you do a lot for them.”

It was nice to hear, but he couldn’t get over the uncomfortable itch in the back of his head that he deserved more than that.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can accept the apology right now.” And then the anger really set in. It came over him so fast, he could feel his hands shaking. “A lot of things are out of our control. We all wanna blame someone for this stuff, but it just boils down to the same people over and over. Max is in a coma because of Henry Creel, not me. Eddie is in the hospital because of demon bats, not me. Eleven and Will are connected to the Upside Down because of the government, not me. I’m just trying to be whatever they need, and that’s better than I can say for either of you at this point.” Steve left this time, Joyce dropping her hand from his arm halfway through his loud speech.

Okay, he was yelling.

But Eddie slept through it, and it felt good to get all of that out.

He made his way to the waiting room, hoping everyone would still be there so he could check in.

Everything felt too fresh, too much like Vecna could show back up and take any of them at any moment.

But the waiting room was empty, not even Dustin remained.

Steve did his best not to panic. Their parents had all been contacted, so they most likely had just been picked up and brought home.

“They’ve all been picked up, sugar,” an older nurse said from the front desk.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“They left you a note, though.”

He recognized her as the woman who had been here the whole night, handling phone calls and people walking in like she’d been doing this for decades. Maybe she had been.

He walked over and grabbed it from her, giving her a small smile in thanks.

He walked outside before he opened it, not sure why he was suddenly nervous.

But as he read, he felt tears in his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Steve- Go home and sleep. We’ll be okay for a day while you rest. You don’t ever do that. We don’t agree with Joyce and Hopper, and we hope you know you’re the best damn babysitter ever. Love, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, El, Will, Mike, and Max (if she could)

He folded up the note, put it in his pocket, and walked to his car.

He ignored the blood in the backseat, rolled his windows down to ignore the stench of iron.

Knew he would be spending most of his day tomorrow trying to clean the stains out, but figured it would be a good mindless task.

He thought about Eddie, about how quick he was to defend him. About how he’d gripped his hand like it was a lifeline.

It felt that way to Steve.

He hadn’t let Eddie down. He’d saved Eddie.

If he didn’t do anything else right, he’d done that, and nothing Joyce or Hopper said could take that away.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joyce byers #jim hopper #ficlet #request #some angst but a positive ending #with some cute drugged up eddie #and some overprotective gremlins

[dimplesandfierceeyes]

Hello!! If u r still taking bad buddy prompts. How about bet era drunk Pran.

Hi Anons!

This was not completed as fast as I hoped it would be but I hope you both see this and enjoy it! This is very much unbeta'd so sorry for in advance for any mistakes or awkward phrasings!

You're A Goner (for me)

Pran never called, he always texted, so when Pat’s phone started ringing at 1am and the caller ID showed Khrab, A Friend he was understandably confused and a little concerned. He answered cautiously, wondering if he was going to hear the muted static of a butt dial, but instead Pran’s voice came immediately through the speaker.

“Where are you?” 

“At home,” Pat replied slowly, still confused though now slightly worried he’d forgotten something. “Where are you?”

“Drunk,” Pran declared with aplomb. Pat snorted in surprise, a grin starting to spread over his features. “Come pick me up.”

“Drunk isn’t a place,” Pat pointed out, still grinning. “Where are you?” 

“Ou'side Wai’s place, I walked him home but I don’t wanna walk back t' mine. ’M tired.” The last two words were said with a sigh. Pat laughed again.

“So you called your friend to come get you, huh?” 

“Isn’ that wha' a friend would do?” Even drunk, Pran had that same pleased competitive tone in his voice at the insinuation of the bet. “I think a friend would come pick me up in his new car an’ take me to his place and then-...oops.” Pran’s voice went up at the end, light and delicate.

“What did you do?” Pat asked fondly, thoroughly entertained.

“Fell down th’ kerb,” Pran told him happily. 

“Are you walking? I thought you were waiting for me to pick you up?”

“Oh, yeah...” Pat could practically hear the frown in his voice. 

He chuckled. “Stay where you are, you drunkard, I’ll come and get you.”

“‘M not a drunkard,” Pran protested sulkily.  

“Sure you’re not.” 

Pat stayed on the phone for the whole drive, partly to make sure Pran didn’t go wandering off before he got there, but mostly because a drunk Pran was one of the best things Pat had come across in his entire life. When he arrived, Pran was sitting on the steps of the apartment block, tilted back on his hands with his phone on the step beside him. 

Pat came to a stop and wound down the window.

"Go 'way, 'm waiting for someone." Pran declared, squinting irritably at the car.

"Yeah, me, dumbass," Pat replied fondly. "Get in before Wai sees me parked here."

"Did you change your car?" Pran asked suspiciously, still squinting, though he did at least start pushing himself up to standing. It was a laborious process for him.

"No, it's the same car; you're just too drunk to see straight." Pat chuckled.

"Am not." Pran was finally upright and began walking surprisingly well towards the car. 

"Your phone, Pran." 

"Huh?" 

"You left your phone." Pat held in the urge to laugh, a grin wide and broad on his face as he watched Pran turn back in surprise.

"Oh!" Pran exclaimed, the vowel elongated and wondrous. "Lemme get it."

"That's the idea, yeah," Pat chuckled again. 

Pran finally made it to the car a few minutes later, flinging open the door with enough gusto to make Pat wince before climbing inside. He grinned as plonked down in the seat. 

"Hi."

"Hi," Pat replied, grinning back. 

"You actually came t' pick me up," Pran crowed. "You're soooo…" he paused, a frown on his face as he thought of the word. "Whipped!"

Laughter burst out of Pat, incredulous and surprised. 

Pran looked delighted with himself, trying to squeeze his phone into his pocket and failed. Pat took it off him and put it in one of the holes between them. 

"Hey!"

"Just put your seatbelt on, drunkard."

"'M not a drunkard." Pran repeated but he did start pulling the seatbelt over. 

It was all going well right up until he reached the buckle and couldn't get it aimed right to fit it in. Pat watched him struggle for a moment, amused, before taking over himself. 

"See!" Pran sat back, looking satisfied. "You're a-a thing, the thing… simp."

Pat laughed again. "Friends can help drunk friends with seatbelts."

Pran pouted, brow furrowing as he apparently realised his point had been beaten. “‘M not drunk,” he muttered instead. 

Pat smiled indulgently at him before leaning forward to poke one sulky dimple. Pran ducked backwards, squawking in outrage. Pat ignored the outburst, twisting back to face the front so he could check his mirrors before signalling to pull out. He dropped his hand down to the handbrake but was surprised by Pran’s hand suddenly smacking into his own. Looking down, he realised Pran was trying to intertwine their fingers. 

“Pran, I can’t hold your hand—I’m driving,” he pointed out with laughter bubbling up in his voice.

“I’m not trying to hold your hand!” Pran immediately protested, hand pulling back. “I was just… just… trying to steady myself. I was dizzy.” The words were over-earnest and over-annoyed like he was covering up his embarrassment. 

Pat caught the hand he’d jerked away and guided it to his wrist. Pran stubbornly didn’t move so Pat encircled the hand around his wrist himself. 

“Okay, you steady yourself, then.” He smiled and patted the hand gently before letting go.

“Maybe I don’t wanna steady myself now,” Pran grumbled, but he did not actually remove his hand. 

He was really too cute like this. Pat couldn’t wait for Pran’s bright red embarrassment in the morning; he was going to enjoy himself so much.

#I had more planned for this but alas I just don't seem to have the time or mental space for writing at the moment #still #a little clingy drunk bet era pran is better than no clingy drunk bet era pran #right? #bad buddy #bad buddy fanfic #kayla writes #patpran

[theragnarokd]

[i've been a bit feral about "Smells Like Belonging" series by @dedicatedfollower467 and I couldn't stop thinking about Dirk and Dave from that series getting to meet.

this is based on "Smells Like Belonging" and won't make much sense without it.

the series contains child sexual abuse, incest, omegaverse, and a bunch of additional tags. This ficlet makes indirect references to those things.]

He sees the fenestrated plane ahead of him, and doesn’t have time to change course before he’s through it and crashing into another person. An omega, absolutely, though Dirk can’t name the components of his scent: the sweetness betrays it.

Sweetness that is almost instantly colored over by… something, Dirk doesn’t know this person well enough, but it does not smell like happiness and sunshine. No rainbows whatsoever.

Dirk wrangles himself back on his feet, looking around the place where he’s landed. He sees Roxy right away, animatedly talking to someone. Jane is asleep at the edge of the platform. Jake is sitting off to the side, having a conversation with a sprite of some troll Dirk doesn’t know. 

Aching to go to them, scent-mark them, but holding himself back, it takes Dirk a hot minute to realize the guy he crashed into is still on the ground.

“Alpha,” the guy says, voice low and hoarse. 

Dirk startles, looking around like an idiot. There’s one other alpha in this place, a guy who looks a bit like Jake, but he’s far off and the guy on the floor is looking straight at Dirk. 

It takes a minute and some mental remodeling before Dirk realizes who he’s looking at. 

So this is what strawberries smell like. 

Rallying, Dirk crouches, offering Dave (Dave!) a hand. Dave does not take it. He looks dazed. Fevered, almost. His scent is stronger. The base scent is really very pleasant, just like the journalists said, but there is a distinct sour note of omega in distress.

“What,” says a high, sharp voice to his side, “did you do to him?”

~

Bro.

It’s Bro. He’s younger, he’s thinner, but his scent doesn’t lie. His scent calls to Dave.

The words come out of Dave without his intent, slipping out with the ease of long practice. “I’ll be good,” he whispers. “Please.” He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. He’s not in heat, thank every single fuck in the universe, he doesn’t need that right now, but he wants… he wants.

Bro flinches, which is sufficiently un-Bro-like that Dave blinks and looks at him again.

Right. Not Bro. What did the other kids call him…? “Dirk.”

Dirk responds, but not to Dave. “I crashed into him accidentally,” he says, to someone to the side.

To Rose. Her scent insinuates his way to Dave, sweet flowers and fury. The latter abates as she catches his eye. 

Dave finally gets his muscles to obey him, sitting up. He reaches out to Rose, who also crouches next to him, scent-marking him in an almost passive-aggressive way.

“He didn’t do anything,” Dave mumbles. “I just… sorry, had kind of a fit, thought you were someone else who smells just like you. Easy mistake. Anyone could make it.”

“Your alpha,” Dirk says.

Rose is right back to smelling furious. “Not anymore,” she says, with enough venom for a whole congress of mambas. Is that the right collective noun? Seems like a good one. Politicians, venomous snakes… a bit of an insult to the snakes, honestly, but you can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. Not snake eggs, though. Those would probably not result in fluffy, golden breakfast foods. Also, they’re squishy, so Dave isn’t sure how you’d crack those. 

“Is he… okay?” Dirk sounds guarded. His smell is different, too, a variation Dave doesn’t recognize. Maybe Bro’s alternate universe self has different emotions. Like those colors shrimp see that humans don’t. Shrimp emotions. 

“He is not,” Rose says primly. Heh. Prim. Rose. He could work something outta that. “But the mumbling is actually a good sign. Yes,” she addresses Dave, “you were talking out loud again. A fascinating digression.” Her expression sobers up, and her voice is gentle when she asks, “What do you need?”

Dave’s eyes go right back to Dirk’s face. Blank, expressionless, shrimp-emotion-scent. At least he doesn’t smell pissed, that one Dave knows intimately well. Biblically well, one might say. Before he can go further down that lane, he forces himself to look at Rose. Scent-marks her, hand shaking a little, moving slow in case she doesn’t want him to.

She scent-marks him right back, in a kind of in-your-face way. “Should I get Karkat?” 

Dave closes his eyes in gratitude. “Yeah.” Fuck yeah. Karkat would be so good right now.

Maybe with Dave’s pack around him, he’ll stop wanting this familiar-smelling stranger to scent-mark him so bad.

#whomstve #i post #my fic

[qu33nincrims0n]

My Dumb Thoughts on Higurashi- Onikakushi

The first of my Higurashi Reactions I started on Reddit, now with GIFS! These are basically the notes I put down of my thoughts after each chapter.( I'm not sure if long posts like this are seen as okay, so I may break up the later chapters for readability) [also spoilers for Onikakushi, obviously]

Oh, and before I begin, I read the main five in the following voices:

Rena and Keiichi: higher and lower versions of my own voice

Satoko: heavy enunciation

Mion: Peni Parker's Sonic voice

Rika: Cherami Leigh's voice for Sunako in Shiki

any other voice, I'll say when they show up. With that, let's begin!

Well, that was an uncomfortable opening 

Ch 1-1

Honestly the fact Keiichi’s mom has no sprite way more unnerving than it should be

Keiichi, you’re gross. Stop that

Oh hi Rika, I can’t wait for you to murder me and/or Satoko and for it to be like big sad.

Tip about the uniforms: ah, either Mion’s relatives are part of some sort of criminal underground, or this is a pervert thing.

Ch 1-2

WHY DOES MION HAVE A GUN?!

Hello?

(Zero Escape 999) Rika giving me some *Redacted* vibes with these rabbits

Yes, this is a cute picnic, but Mion still has a gun, and no one has said anything about it.

Tomitake Is voiced by Kyle Herbert (specifically his Kaito voice). No one can tell me otherwise

Oh, shit a Sanders Statue!

When Rena talks like my great grandpa side stepping topics ‘,:(

Why is there no tip about the GUN?!?! - future me here to say I now know why no one talks about the gun. thank you. -

Ch 1-3

Should have believed in the heart of the cards, Keechi.

So Mion is shady about the 79’ murder too, Huh?

Never let go Sanders!

The XX killer be like:

That moment when you completely redress to grab an axe.

Ch 1-4

Zimbo Zamboo Zombie blasto!

Man, Mion had to be really lucky to fake a tagging. Like how did that even happen?

Ayyyy Tomitake!

I’d love for a pic of the guy who died in 79’ to show up and its straight up Colonel Sanders given the parallels

Ch 1-5

I don’t like the one kid who canonically has a gun is the one proposing a “four demon fire-fight”

Oh hey, it’s like me playing pook. Keiichi has learned to believe in the heart of the cards!

Rika: So, you want to die? That can be arranged.

You insinuating somthin’ Rika? I don’t like that tone

Ch 1-6

Festival time!!

+ Tomitake has joined the party+

Me: *suddenly realizes we now have six ppl for parallels*

Spooky time with Tomitake and new lady (I’ll call her Ms. Clover until I get an actual name) - also I realized later I forgot to give her a voice, so she's british-

And then nothing bad happened.

Ch 1-7

Well this is a funky version of clue… I wanna try it.

Rika, stop saying cryptic stuff like that. Stop it. Get some help.

Ooishi, sir, you look constantly high. I think I'll give you a southern drawl.

NO!! Tomitake!! Oh, and Ms. Clover is missing, I guess.

Oh god, that’s deeply upsetting.

Secret~ agent~ Keiichi~!

Tomitake isn’t you’re name ?!?

Ah so Ms. Clover is Miyo, and she’s a nurse from nearby. Neat.

Ch 1-8

Two events masquerading as one event. They’re evolving…

“You got home safely, right?” sus

Secret member Satoshi has entered the chat

Hmmmm so that cat eye thing is not just Miyo. Hmmmmmmmm

I don’t like Rena-x.

double don’t like this door shenanigan thing. You call that officer back right now! Keiichi!

Ch 1-9

I feel that Keiichi +passes out for nine hours+

The staple of mysteries, gossiping grannies!

Ooishi out here to drop some truth bombs. Oh shit, may have been too much.

Huh I wonder why he censors death in his own mind there? Maybe effects of something.

Keiichi you are so lucky they don’t know your family’s away.

So, either A, there’s a spy network, or B, they can do some sort of vision thing. Not fun either way.

Welcome to the “Keiichi digs himself into a bigger hole” hour. I hope the conclusion of this game is him eventually learning to talk around the truth.

Keiichi if you don’t cut open those Mochi to check them I swear to shogoth!

God damn it.

Keiichi, you currently have an in with the cops, and actual evidence of an attempt on your life. LEAVE! Find safety, Please!

Ch 1-10

What Keiichi’s brain feels like:

I wonder what they would have said if Keiichi had guessed the mochi?

Keiichi: I just have to act normal

Also Keiichi: No I won’t play games because that would be nice.

*Telling parents about the clock* Ah yes, very subtle Keiichi.

TIP: Hmm… is this implying Satako or Rika aren’t fully in the know? Seems the only reason to play it coy like this.

*Casually looks up how long the game is*

Ch 1-11

White van dude:

IDK why but I imagined Keiichi flying back with a twirl like in a fighting game.

Okay Rika definitely knows as much if not more than everyone else.

Man this sucks Keiichi.

Rena: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…

Store Tip: huh, does Keiichi have like an eidetic memory or something? Also, hi langolier in my memory.

Ch 1-12

Wait this should be the weekend… *googles* man, tough luck Hinamizawa's a Sunday only town.

Spilling all the beans today, aren’t we Keiichi?

Mion and Keiichi:

(art by @ratt-lord)

Oooo secret past of Mion and Ooishi, sounds interesting.

This cycle? Keiichi do you know something I don’t?

So you’re saying Oyashiro-sama is what, a Cubs fan? God of bats?

That set up with Rena sounds like those guys probably deserved to get beat up.

Wild goons have appeared!

When you monologue so hard you can actually freeze time… HE REALLY IS SHADOW!!!

The Manager? Ryuukishi!?!

Keiichi, Quick! What number was the mochi?

Oh no.

Oh no oh no.

Sorry the most important part was stolen bud. Also, it’s weird they left the white van stuff. Must be pretty confident.

AFTER PARTY

Tomitake!!! You’re Back!

When you are too poor to get a character sprite #Protag-Problems

Love this theory talk. Personally, I’m going with it being people, but the curse is also going on but as an unrelated thing. Also I feel like maybe the girl's astral project or something.

So there's my Reaction for Onikakushi. The later ones have a lot more custom memes, so I hope you like the one I added in here. I'll try uploading Watanagashi some time in the next few days. See You Soon!

#higurashi #higurash no naku koro ni #reaction #long reads #memes #dumb-thoughts-series #so many gifs #humour #visual novel #Onikakushi spoilers

[green-blue-heller]

I still don’t know what I think of all of this.

Or him.

I feel like if he is actually straight, rather than running back into the closet for whatever reason (it’s hard to believe so many people’s gaydar is broken though), then he has spent over a decade pantomiming queerness.

Then it was all a performance.

And if that’s true, then it brings up sooo many more questions.

Almost too many questions.

Questions I don’t think I want the answers to.

I’ve spent a lot of time saying they don’t owe us anything.

But this feels different.

Because if Misha isn’t queer, I feel like we were the butt of his joke for a decade.

Because I 💯 believe, with my whole being, that he went out on that stage with a plan to somehow insinuate he was bisexual.

Because literally no one was talking about bisexuality (or any sexuality) until he brought it up. And so that’s what is confusing (or one of the things that is confusing). Because in his retraction he said he was trying to avoid talking about his sexuality.

My guy, if you don’t want to talk about your sexuality, then you have no business polling your audience to ask who is bisexual.

You didn’t ask who was gay. Or ace. Or even just queer.

You singled out bisexuals.

I really want to know what his end game was going to be before Jai said, “Misha, you didn’t raise your hand for any of them.”

And please note, this is in no way their fault.

Misha is a grown ass 47 year old man who has over a decade of experience dealing with fans and their questions. And has hand waved questions before and not answered them.

No one forced Misha to say he was all three.

Shit.

I’m cycling back to angry and confused again.

I’m just… I’m tired.

Being a Supernatural fan is exhausting.

Being in this fandom is a lot.

But all I know is that Misha broke something.

And I don’t know if I can ever get that back. (I’m refraining from we because I know everyone isn’t having this same experience, though I know a lot of you are, to some degree.)

I just know this sucks. For everyone.

And I wish there were answers.

Because honestly, that post he made, provided none.

But one thing is for certain, since he stated that he is straight, he doesn’t get to make gay jokes anymore.

Because they were wink wink nudge nudge funny when it was assumed he was one of us.

But since he decided to publicly announce he isn’t, then it’s no longer cute and funny. Instead, it just makes him look like an asshole who is turning queerness into a joke.

And honestly, we have enough people turning queerness, bisexuality specifically, into a joke.

But the one thing I do know for sure, is that everyone is allowed to feel the way they feel. And no one has the right to tell anyone else how they should feel or process that.

Especially for queer fans who feel hurt or betrayed by Misha. Because if you’re not queer, this ain’t about you.

#misha collins #The Great New Jersey Bisexual Conundrum of 2022

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing viii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 1, 964

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“I can’t believe this!” Jeonghan puffs while he drops his belongings loudly onto the table in the study lounge, causing a few other students to turn and glare.

“Would it kill you to be quiet?” Jungkook grumbles, picking at the edge of the paper of his textbook, eyes never straying away from the content of the page.

“No. I will not be quiet because I thought football bros were bros for life!” Jeonghan whines.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You know that’s kind of concerning when you put it that way.”

Jeonghan simply waves the other boy off before he leans forward as if he has something important he has to say. Jungkook knew him well enough to know that it would either waste Jungkook’s precious study time or be something so out of the ordinary that he can’t help but be intrigued.

Jungkook shrugged and takes the chance, anyway.

“Namjoon bailed.” He deadpans. “Again!”

Jungkook stiffens ever so slightly but feigns disinterest with a noncommittal hum.

“Really.”

Jeonghan nods his head, or shook his head—it was hard to tell because he was all over the place and he seemed more displeased than anything.

“I never thought we’d lose our own captain to a girl.” He sniffs.

Jungkook sighs, already done with the conversation because somehow no one can ever mention Namjoon without mentioning you now, apparently because the two of you were hanging out much more frequently. He’s bitter. And he’s confused—because he’s attempted patching things up with you but you only would ever reply to him with curt responses than the enthusiastic ones you used to flatter him with.

JK: hey. there’s a new cafe outside of campus. U wanna go?

Smarty Pants 🐰: Im busy. Next time? :)

JK: are u free tonight?

JK: im heading to the library later. wanna meet up for some ramen first? On me!!!

Smarty Pants 🐰: sorry jungkook, meeting w administrators for pastoral care matters

Smarty Pants 🐰: Do you need help with the content?

JK: oh… it’s fine, just wanted to hang out with you. We haven’t done that in a while

JK: jimin said u finally have some free time next week? Let’s catch up! i’ll treat u to some banana bread :D

Smarty Pants 🐰: i have plans with joon. which day were you thinking?

JK: Anytime. When are you meeting hyung?

Smarty Pants 🐰: we kind of have plans every day, here and there. could I get back to you?

And that was it. The blow that Jungkook knew he deserved but couldn’t deal with. You had tried your best to avoid any personal interaction with Jungkook and he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“They’re kind of perfect for each other, don’t you think?” Jeonghan interrupts Jungkook’s sour mood when he recalls all his failed attempts at trying to meet with you personally.

Jungkook blinks then furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Joon and your friend _____.” He knocks on the table. “Bunch of nerds together.” He adds with a snicker.

Jungkook stiffens, hands clutching his textbook tighter.

“You say that like there’s something wrong with being a nerd.” He says slowly.

“There isn’t. Really.” Jeonghan defends. “It’s just so … fitting. Captain of the football team who’s lowkey a softie and an art nerd with the overachiever on campus. Their IQ’s combined are probably in the 300 range.”

Jungkook scowls.

“Haven’t you heard of the phrase ‘opposites attract’?” Jungkook asks sourly.

Jeonghan scoffs. “Yeah. Like you actually believe in that cliche phrase. Come on—we all know you’re likely to end up with someone who’s more like you than different.”

The insinuation doesn’t sit well with Jungkook, but he can’t chew Jeonghan out for it anyway. He didn’t know the nature of your friendship with him, nor was he aware of the history the two of you shared.

“Never say never.” Jungkook shrugs.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes before taking out his laptop and settling into a comfortable position.

“I think he’s going to ask her to be his girlfriend soon.” He says off-handedly as if he assumed Jungkook gave a shit.

He did, and his heart drops to his stomach.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls out when he spots you slip past him at the foyer outside the humanities building.

You twirl around at the sound of your name being called, and your eyes widen when you spot Jungkook walking towards you with furrowed brows.

“J-Jungkook?”

Why you sounded so scared to see him, he wasn’t sure. But he knows that he’s frustrated because it’s the first time he’s seen you after the game where you and Namjoon left to hang out at the exhibition, despite his desperate attempts at calling you out to hang out with him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Jungkook frowns, cutting straight to the chase.

You splutter for a response, and you realise that you’re basically gaping at him when you clutch your folders tighter to your chest.

“I’ve been busy, Jungkook. I told you this.” You softly remind him.

Jungkook scoffs, and he feels his mean bone grow; feeling the need to correct you because you were smart—and both of you knew that your excuse was lame.

“Really?” He says dryly. “Too busy to hang out with me but not with Namjoon?” He can’t help how bitter he sounds, especially when he’s heard from the rest of the football members; including Jimin and Taehyung that you were spending a suspicious amount of time with the captain.

You furrow your brows at him when Jungkook stares you down, waiting for a response.

“That doesn’t change the fact I was busy.” You huff.

Jungkook frowns at you, clutching his backpack tighter with his hand as he notices the way you avoid his eyes by dropping them to the ground.

“Why are you being like this?” Jungkook accuses, tone already on the offensive.

You gape up at the boy, brows scrunched in displeasure.

“Me? I’m not being anything. I told you that I was busy and we would rain check, didn’t I?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek, frustration pooling in his stomach. “Somehow you’re only busy whenever I want to hang out, right?” He scoffs sarcastically. “I thought we were good.”

You stiffen, knuckles turning white when you grip your belongings harder.

“We are.” You say curtly.

“No, we’re not.” Jungkook retorts. “If we were then you wouldn’t need to find shitty excuses to get out of hanging out with me.”

You open your mouth, then close it. You feel yourself grow more exasperated with Jungkook the more he can’t realise the fact that you were still finding a way to navigate the throes of your relationship with him.

“They were not shitty excuses.” You snap. “Listen, we can meet tomorrow for coffee if you really—”

“That’s not what this is about!” Jungkook exasperates, breathing out in a huff.

You purse your lips. “Then what is it, Jungkook? You came up to me and started accusing me of lying to you because I couldn’t meet up at the times you proposed.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw when he notices the way your voice gets increasingly sterner when you talk to him. It only reminds him of the way you used to chastise him when he was younger when he’d do something that was ‘immature’ but standard for a teenaged boy.

“I apologised!” He cries. “I’m sorry I was a dick before this but I’m really trying to fix things between us but you’re—”

“I’m what, Jungkook?” You interject with a frown. “I’m doing my best at healing?” You add softly. “An apology won’t erase what happened.”

Jungkook feels himself deflate, especially at the way your eyes dart away when he attempts to look into them.

“I know it won’t but I just want things to go back to normal.” He sighs.

You screw your eyes shut, finding the words to say before you look at him with such sad eyes that he nearly pulls you close just to comfort you so that he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the fact that it was his fault.

“It’s not that easy.” You whisper, gripping at the hem of your sleeves. “It may be for you but it’s not the same for me.”

Jungkook releases a sigh so loud that your eyes widen, as he attempts to think of something better to say—to offer.

“I really am sorry.” He lamely apologises, his voice sounding a lot like a scolded child.

“I know.” You nod. “But you don’t know how it feels to have …” You swallow. “Whatever. We’re good. I just need time, Jungkook.”

Jungkook furrows his brows when you turn away to stalk off, but he grabs at your elbow to turn your body to face him. Your eyes briefly make contact with the way he’s gently holding onto you before they tilt up to meet his confused gaze.

“How it feels to have what?” He pries.

You sigh, shaking off his grip. “Look. It doesn’t matter. I’m being sensitive.” You deprecate immediately.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the spite in your tone, especially when you say it so firmly and seriously when you dismiss him.

“I want to fix this—us.” He pleads desperately. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

As if his words set you off, your eyes snap up and blaze with the pent up fury and anger you’ve been suppressing the entire time.

“Me? Be honest with you?” You scoff. “Real fucking funny. Because when I was honest with you, you turned it on me and took advantage of my vulnerability.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “What—?”

“You want honest?” You fume. “Fine. I’ll give you honest but you better listen closely this time because I won’t be repeating myself again.” You poke into his chest, even if it’s fierce and stern, he feels the heartache pouring through. “You were my best friend, Jungkook. You were and are someone important to me and you fucked me over because you knew I couldn’t say no to you. You knew how I felt and you took advantage of that fact just so you could get what you wanted and go.”

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, confused at the information you were throwing at him.

“How you felt—?”

You cut him off again with a huff. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know. Why else did you think I did all the shit you wanted?”

“I-I don’t understand.” Jungkook stutters, head caught in a loop when you glare at him harder.

“You knew every bit of insecurity that I had and you weaponised that against me just so you could keep me close.” You say softly. “You knew, either way, I would’ve stayed because I’ve always been there, Jungkook.”

“You’re confusing me.” He deadpans, grabbing onto your shoulders so you were forced to stare at him.

He notices the glistening of your eyes as he feels his heart constrict when he realises you’re trying your best to keep your tears at bay.

“Well, you did it first so it’s only fair.” You sniffle. “You can act like shits fine because you weren’t the one who was attached. I was. So just let me have this time to myself to figure things out because I can’t even be around you without being sad, Jungkook.” You whimper.

He calls for your name but you're already furiously rubbing at your eyes as you curse under your breath as you spin on your heels to hurry away.

Jungkook gapes at you as he attempts to process what you just said, but before he can get another word in—you're leaving him to feel the weight of your words in the footsteps that draw further and further away.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts jungkook

[sdv-mostly-shane]

not sure if this has been asked or written before, but what a about a 'sort of cryptid like farmer' and shane? a farmer that's just a little bit more on the non human side kinda thing, if thats alright

A special Spooktember treat for you guys- I hope you enjoy. Been saving this one until it was appropriately close enough to spooky season. Also- TIL that goblincore is a quite delightful aesthetic-read til the end to get the full ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:* vibes *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ they’re feral AND charming.

Just Goblin Things

Summary: There’s something sinister in Cindersnap Forest, and Shane is the one to come face to face with the creature. What he finds is a more than just a little magical, and he can’t wait to discover more.

Trigger warning : very brief, vague insinuations of alcohol; general spookyness.

“Seb, how many more until we can go back to my house?’

“Just a minute, Sam. I can hear one croaking just over there…“

“Yoba, what was that!-look, there in the bush!” A flash of green had caught Abigails eye, followed by a loud scrambling noise. She pushed herself off the ground, using Sam’s shoulder as a boost, and leaped toward the sound, searching for its maker.

“What kind of frog was that?”

“I didn’t even see anything. Probably just some raccoon or something.” They watched Abby crawl around a small thicket of bushes, peeking in between branches as she went. “Leave it alone, Abby, you don’t want to catch rabies.”

“Raccoons don’t have green eyes, Seb,” she said, as she perked her head up to listen to a faint crinkling of leaves. “Listen, do you hear that? It almost sounds like.. hissing?”

“What, like a snake?”

“No, like a-AH!” Abby shrieked, and fell back. The two boys ran towards her. “No, get back, it might see you!” She was referencing the massive pair of green speckled eyes that were now accompanied with a gnarly, toothy grimace emerging from the bush. From it, came an ungodly snarling and hissing.

“Alright, time to go,” Seb yanked the two teenagers away from the creature, and they started to run. Once they had made it inside Sam’s house, the trio slammed his bedroom door and jumped on the bed. They sat for a moment in silence, listening to each other’s panting breath. Abby began to say something, but Sebastian interrupted, “we’re not gonna talk about it. Just don’t-nothing happened. We didn’t see anything. Got it?” Abby huffed in frustration, and protested with him, arguing that they needed to get back out there and figure it out. All Sam could do was stare at his floor, stunned at what had just happened.

The next day, Sam went to start his shift at the Joja Mart on edge from the night before. Shane was working the freezer when he spotted him-he had picked up a packaged of individually sealed pancakes seven minutes ago and was still staring at it, unmoving. “Uh, you alright, bud?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it…” His voice seemed far away, but he managed to finally move, making to put away the product. He turned to him, “Shane, you live in Cindersnap Forest. Have you ever seen anything… weird… there?”

“You mean besides Mayor Lewis sneaking out the back window and crawling around the house, thinking I can’t see him?”

“What?”

“No, never seen anything.”

“Well we did, Abby, Seb, and I, last night.”

“And?”

“Well, nothing really actually happened-it just scared us, really. Made a really ugly sound and showed it’s teeth to us. It must have just been some animal… but the thing is… gah, I can’t even say it.”

Shane tossed a bag of multipurpose detergent at him, demanding, “C’mon, say it.”

“Ouch, Yoba, alright. I didn’t tell the others, but when we were running away, I looked back and.. and well, I saw it run away and it was on two legs like a person.”

“Hah, okay you got me. There’s nothing in that forest, kid, don’t think about it too much.” Shane slapped the back of Sam’s shoulder, bidding him to just do his work, and went about finishing the stocking. He’d look over, occasionally, to see the golden-haired teen zoned into space again, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to really care at that point; he just needed to get through his shift.

______________________________________________

Shane looked at his phone-11:26 PM. He’d gone out, not able to sleep, and forced himself to take a cold walk through the woods to avoid the saloon. Shivering, not just from the cold, he made his way over to the edge of the lake. He enjoyed watching the little sparkling fish swim, their silver scales glisten underneath the shallow water… Swishing and splashing and crashing-crashing? He flipped his body around to see the source of the crash-in front of the big tree, in a disheveled pile, sat the farmer. They were brushing the leaves out of their hair and dusting off their knees.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh! Goodness, Shane, you scared me.”

“You’re the one who fell out of the tree.”

The farmer finger-gunned, “You got me there,” and stood up, gathering the belongings that tumbled from their satchel.

Shane watched them, and smirked at seeing them covered in Earth matter-leaves, moss, dirt-it all seemed to have managed to stick to them as they tumbled down the tree. “You’re covered in dirt.”

“Oh, yeah I am.” The farmer brushed off their apron and body. Dirt, rocks, and leaves fell from their arms, but the moss stayed firmly attached.

Now with a clear view, Shane could see that their skin wasn’t quite right. It looked jaundiced from their shoulders down, where the color faded to a sickly vibrant green down to their finger tips. The moss had attached itself to their elbows and seemed to grow down to their fingertips. As the farmer moved about, their arms coming in and out of scattered streaks of moonlight, he could almost see it blinking at him. Was it growing on their arm? He blinked trying to make sense of it, “No, no I meant your arms have-“

“Oh, Hey Franklin.”

Shane’s jaw hung open on his words. Emerging from the Farmers.. arm moss?.. emerged a little frog. It opened and closed its mouth a few times before letting out a tiny ‘ribbit’.

“Yeah, I found this little guy a few weeks ago and he just didn’t want to leave. He likes to come with me on our nightly mushroom hunts.” Franklin went cross eyed as he focus on a little bug flittering past before catching it with a satisfying crunch. “Oh, that was a good one, Frankie.”

“Okay I’m gonna go now,” Shane regained control of his jaw, resolutely shoved his hands in his pockets, and started to turn away.

“Wait! You’re not gonna tell anyone my secret are you?”

“Tell them what, that you keep a secret frog hidden somewhere in your arm?”

“No, everyone should know about Franklin, he’s precious. I meant-you know what, can I just show you?” The farmer reached out their hand in an offer for Shane to grab.

He hesitated-he only barely knew the farmer, having really only seen them run past him at full speed with a pick axe held high above their head-but he was in desperate need of a distraction tonight.

The farmer, seeing his reservation, offered up, “come sit down with me, I’ll make us some tea.”

“I don’t drink tea.”

“Well I’ll tell you some of my other secrets?”

He was in too deep now, his curiosity overtaking his tentativeness, “Alright.” He accepted their hand; his fingertips flexed atop their hand, cushioned by the lush, damp covering of green.

Holding his hand, they led him to their crash-landing zone under the tree, where they sat down. As the farmer sat, legs tucked into each other, Shane thought he saw their body hesitate mid-air for half a second. He then was sure that he saw a little fairy ring of mushrooms pop out of the ground with a glimmering puff of orange dust as the farmers body finally made contact with the ground.

“Please, sit.” Shane pretended to not be concerned, but the farmer smiled to themselves as they spotted him cautiously glancing down to the ground as he gingerly lowered himself to sit. Satisfied, the farmer opened up their satchel and pulled out their trinkets for tea-two wooden cups, a shiny silver teapot with a mismatched spoon, and a box of vials and jars. Opening, smelling, taking, and closing the little jars, they began to make the tea. The beautiful earthy colors of the roots, grasses, and leaves peeled out over the edge of the cups. Craning their body, they reached over to the other circle of mushrooms where they crashed, and plucked a purple one.

As they filled the teacups, Shane watched in horror as the they grasped a moth straight out of the air, ripped a wing off, and shredded it into the two cups. He hoped to Yoba the ‘tea’ was done, but they pulled out one final vial. Swallowing, he asked, “Who’s hair is that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The farmer pick up the teapot, cradling it in their palms. As the silver started to glow red hot, the farmers hair flew up, standing straight when the teapot began to steam. They poured the hot water into the cups.

“Okay, I get it, I know what this is.”

“What is?”

“I just had a few too many today, and I’m actually just super hammered right now and it’s making me see things. I’m gonna go to bed, now”

“But I didn’t see you at the saloon today?”

“Well, no, but if I think about it too much I’m gonna freak out a little bit,” he pushed his hands off to stand, “so I’m just gonna say that this isn’t real and-“

The farmer reached out their hand to him once more. He stood, frozen, as he watched twigs emerge from their fingertips, growing into branches, followed by leaves, and finishing with a delicate flower unfurling inches away from where he stood.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Take it.”

“Take it? But it’s.. attached.”

“Just take it,” the farmer smiled.

He picked it, cupping it in his palms, and brought it to his chest. He watched in awe as the flower petals began to sway, and tiny white fairies sprouted from the pollen. Transfixed, he stood holding his breath as the hazy creatures danced around the petals.

While he watched, eyes big and lit up, the farmer quietly pulled out from their satchel a little carved wooden chair. While Franklin hopped down and plopped onto the chair, the farmer plucked another tiny mushroom, removing the stalk, and tipped a mini-portion of tea from their cup into the cap. They handed it to Franklin who busied himself with dunking his head in and out of the tea and screaming into it.

Shane, remembering his need to breathe, finally gasped and attempted to sputter something intelligible out, but just as he thought of a semi-formed sentence, the dancing fairies suddenly burst into a frenzy of colorful fire. They continued their elaborate dance until the last of them fizzled out, and there was nothing left of the dancing flower except misty smoke and white ash.

“You can keep that-here, pour it into here,” they handed an empty vial to Shane, “sprinkle it on your doorstep and it’ll protect you and your loved ones.”

He did as he was told, not even questioning it at this point-he wanted to know more and how and why and what. Finished, he sat back down, facing the farmer, watching them lift the teacup to their lips. “So uh, does the tree thing happen a lot, or just at night, because I’ve seen you during the day and it doesn’t look like that.”

“No, you’re right, see the thing is, it’s when I- HHREEEEEEEEEK!”

Shane tumbled back in shock, catching himself with his elbows and hands. The farmer had let out an awful screech, showing their (formerly enchanting smile) now fanged row of gnarly teeth. In an instant, their eyes grew and melted into dinner plate-sized puddles of green. Shane yanked his head to match the direction of the farmers leer, where he saw a scruffy-looking opossum attempting to sneak their grubby hands around Franklin. The caught-and foiled-thief returned the farmers screech with a feral ‘hiss’ of its own, before it clambered back into dark bushes.

As quickly as the transformation happened, the farmer returned to normal just the same, meeting Shane’s stunned eyes with their own-now regular sized-smiling eyes. “Can’t be letting Franklin become someone’s snack, now can we?” They laughed and smiled to themselves, giving Franklin a little finger pat.

He was stunned, again. He blinked his way around the farmers face and body, searching for something that would make sense of his feelings. Was it repulsion? Fascination? Perhaps even a little attraction? The farmers little twinkling laugh would normally be very charming to him, but the circumstances of it were overwhelmingly frightening… if not still partially alluring. He settled his searching to focus on their smile-they offered it up so freely to him.

The farmer had waited for him to get settled back into a relaxed position before they continued, “Now what was it you were asking me, dear?”

“I was asking about your arms, that they normally aren’t literal trees,” he stoped, “dear?”

“Well, yeah. We’re friends now, aren’t we? Would you prefer me to call you something else?”

“… no, that’s fine.”

They sat together for a few moments in silence while the farmer drank their tea, and Shane gathered the courage to at least sip the leafy moth water. (It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad. He swished his tongue around his mouth to feel for any fuzzy winged remains, but couldn’t find any. It was smooth, and still hot. While he pondered, Franklin made a few flighty hops over to where his foot was resting, and jumped up onto his sneaker-he was trying to bite the laced up shoestrings.

He let out a little laugh-what a strange little animal. He looked up at the farmer and thought ‘what a strange little.. goblin.’ He let himself stare a bit-they didn’t seem to mind. They had taken off their hat by now, and revealed a pair of little pronged antlers that were hidden underneath. They were encrusted with clusters of crystals, which glittered with every turn and tilt of the farmers head. He continued to drink his tea, getting more accustomed to it with each sip, and watched the scattered moonlight refract off the crystals onto the ground. There, where the prismatic light met earth, a misting of teeny white flowers sprouted and bloomed. Shane had always been appreciative of the wonders of nature, but he had never seen it this beautiful. The farmer seemed connected to the earth, each breathing life into the other. It was humbling. And it-they-were beautiful.

The farmer finally caught his eye, and looked down, now a bit embarrassed. They didn’t mind the scrutiny-it wasn’t out of judgement, they knew, just curiosity. Truth be told, the feeling was more of self consciousness than anything. It was always daunting to show anyone their true selves, but to Shane? His gaze was so honest and searching that it was intimidating. Still feeling his eyes on them, the farmer briefly looked up through their lashes to give him a shy smile, and then turned their attention to the lake.

Shane broke the silence, “Any other goblins in their you wanna tell me about,” he motioned to the lake.

“Nah, that lake is occupied already.”

“Ah, I was just playing. Of course, it’s occupied with fish.”

The farmer was silent

He turned to them, only slightly panicky, “With fish right?”

“Mmhmm yeah fish, lots of fish.” They pursed their lips tight and took a nervous sip of their already empty tea.

Shane squinted to the water, studying it, and caught a glimpse of some bubbles rupturing on the distant surface. He scooted closer to the farmer.

With the shoulders pressed up against each other, the farmer reassured him, “Don’t worry, I got you,” and took hold of his hand.

Shane eased his body deeper against their shoulder with a sigh. He took a peek at the farmer’s face just in time to see an attractive blush warm their cheeks. He smiled, and rubbed his thumb over the tops of their knuckles. They sat together, watching the lake, while the moon rose higher in the sky.

“Did you call me a goblin?” The farmer broke the trance.

Shane let out a hearty laugh, “What other kind of magical creature sneaks around in the dark and scares neighborhood children?”

The farmer returned the laugh, and finger gunned once more, “you know what, you got me there again, Shane.” The pair filled the foggy air with the sound of their laughter, pushing their bodies still even closer together.

“If you don’t want your cover blown, you should probably stop doing that, you know, screeching at teenagers.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” the farmer said with a small growl and a wink.

It was Shane’s turn to blush, now. He looked down at their hands, still cupped together, and smiled. “What other magic secrets do you have?”

“ ✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:* Let me show you.*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ “

#stardew valley #sdv shane #stardew shane #farmer x shane #sdv fanfic #stardew valley fanfic #sdv au #goblin things #cryptid

[ilikefandoms]

Family Dinner - Robby Keene

Request - Hi, it's me again. You could write something in which the reader and Robby are in a secret relationship and Daniel notices that boy's passionate gaze and is curious to know who the mysterious young woman is who was leaving him like this, then asks him to invite her to a family dinner . It turns out that Daniel didn't even imagine that this girl was the golden student of Cobra Kai, almost as relentless as Tory and Samantha's number one rival. Throughout dinner, the reader does her best not to provoke a scene, even with Sam's indiscreet insinuations about her being a bad person and to make matters worse, a conversation about sexual orientation arises in a very prejudiced way from Louie and she is extremely offended after a prejudiced comment about bisexuality (she is bisexual, Robby knows and accepts this), Daniel ends up being faster and goes after her, the two talk very cute (almost father and daughter) and the two end up giving each other very well . Anyway, after all that mixture of emotions that was the night, Robby takes the reader home which leads to a lot of affection and kisses on her part (deep down, under that badass exterior she is just a big monster of affection ❤). Sorry if it took too long hahaha.

Pronouns used - She/Her

A/N -  Disclaimer: I do not agree with anything that Louie says in this, it is purely for the storyline. I also kinda made Sam look like a bad guy...sorry Sam.

Warnings - Louie being a biphobic asshole, language

Word Count - 1593

You and Robby had a somewhat 'secret relationship'. You had both decided not to tell anyone, considering the rivalry between your respective dojos. Anyway, you were enjoying spending time with Robby alone.

Daniel had begun to get suspicious though. He had noticed that Robby had been acting different than usual, smiling at his phone, and getting home later. Daniel had made the fair assumption that Robby was in fact, seeing someone.

He had not-so subtilty brought up the question in conversation, taking Robby aback. Robby had admitted it though, and Mr Larusso had asked to meet this ‘Mystery Girl’, and asked Robby to invite you to family dinner.

So, here you were standing outside the Larusso’s house, having just texted Robby that you were here. You didn’t want Sam answering the door. 

Robby opened the door, “Hey babe, why didn’t you knock?”

“I didn’t want Sam or someone opening it to see me,” you shrugged, “I’m just nervous I guess, what with mine and Sam’s rivalry, with Cobra Kai. Everything,”

Robby wrapped his arms around you, “It’s gonna be ok, alright. If it ends up being too awkward or whatever, we can leave,” he reassured.

“Thank you,” 

He kissed your cheek, “Anytime. Ready to go in?” you nodded. Robby placed his hand in yours, and you walked in.

The Larusso’s house was beautiful, it had off-white walls, a mixture of hardwood and patterned flooring, and large windows. It was probably one of the nicest houses you’d ever been in.

“Hey Robby,” Amanda Larusso approached you, “This must be your girlfriend. I’m Amanda,”

“Y/N,” you said.

“it’s so great to meet you, Robby’s told us so much about you!” She said - even if this wasn’t true.

“No he hasn’t,” you said, with a weak chuckle.

“Okay, well... that’s true, but I hope to get to know you more today. Okay, we are eating outside today as it is a lovely night. Everyone else is already out there, make yourselves at home, and dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” she said, smiling.

You both thanked her, before heading outside to where everyone was talking. “Hey everyone,” Robby made your presence known.

“Hey Robby!” Daniel greeted, before laying his eyes on you, when his smile faded. It was no secret that you were the Golden Student of Cobra Kai, you had even been known to take Miguel and Tory in fights, and of course...Sam.

“What is she doing here?” Sam exclaimed, gesturing towards you.

Your grip on Robby’s hand tightened. You had expected this, so you decided to stand your ground, “I was invited,” you asserted.

“Who would invite you here?” Sam asked with narrowed eyes.

“Sam,” Robby said, in an attempt to calm her down. 

It was at this point that her eye’s travelled down to where yours and Robby’s hands were enlaced. “Don’t tell me you’re actually dating this bitch,”

“Sam!” Daniel scolded, and just before an argument could come out, Mrs Larusso arrived, holding trays of food.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asked, her eyebrows raised.

“No, mom. We’re fine,” Sam said, partially through gritted teeth.

**********

There had been evident silence since dinner had started, it was starting to get annoying, how Sam was giving you death glares from across the table. Anthony was doing the same, although he was just probably copying what Sam was doing.

Amanda then decided to break the silence, asking you a question “So, Y/N how did you and Robby meet?”

“We met at the skate park. Robby was tried to do a new trick, but it went wrong and his board ended up flying in my direction, he apologised, we started talking, and...here we are,” you replied, giving her a smile.

“Oh that’s sweet, and from what little Robby has said, you do karate?” she questioned.

“Yeah, I do,” you said, purposefully not saying your dojo’s name - even if Sam and Mr Larusso knew, you wanted to keep the dojo rivalry to a minimum.

“She’s top of her class as well,” Robby added, “She can easily beat me in a fight,” 

“Only because you fight dirty,” Sam uttered underneath her breath.

You ignored her, “I wouldn’t say easily,” you protested, “But, yeah I can totally kick your ass,” you said, letting out a small laugh. Sam rolled her eyes

“Wow, that’s really impressive. What dojo do you go to,” Mrs Larusso asked.

“Oh, um, Cobra Kai,” you said, somewhat trailing off towards the end.

“Oh. Okay, is this why this dinner is being so awkward?” she said, and no-one answered, “Obviously it is,” she mumbled.

“Aren’t they the dojo that dislocated Robby’s shoulder?” Louie asked.

“Technically that was just Hawk,” Robby defended.

“Still doesn’t excuse their shitty teaching methods,” Sam said quietly.

Your hand balled into a fist. Her snarky comments were starting to fuel your anger. Robby placed his hand over yours, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles - an action that he knew calmed you, and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Y/N, are you new to town? I can’t recall seeing you anywhere,” Amanda questioned, seemingly ignoring her daughters comments.

“Yeah, I only moved here 6 months ago. My mom got a new job,” you explained.

“Oh, what does you mom do?"

“She’s a real estate agent,” you replied.

“Oh, that’s cool,”

**********

Conversation slowly picked up from there, although that didn’t stop Sam from making remarks. It was like she was trying to get people to think you were a bad person, saying stuff like ‘Dad, I’m glad that you taught me and Robby the right way of karate’.

It was honestly taking a toll on you, you had to work hard to make a good impression, and not act out and make a scene.

“Mom, did I tell you that Moon has a girlfriend now?” Sam asked her mother.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” 

“Yeah, it’s this Piper. She’s nice,” she explained.

“Moon is the girl that was dating that Hawk guy?” Louie butted in.

“Yeah,”

“Was she just gay all along then?”

“No, she’s just bisexual,” Sam said, furrowing her eyebrows at Louie’s question.

“Sam, come on. Bisexuality isn’t real,” you fists balled as Louie continued, “People are either gay or straight, you can’t like both, that’s just... unnatural,”

“Fuck this!” You yelled. You rose from your seat, and stormed out of the back yard.

“Louie, what the fuck?” Sam, and Amanda said in unison. Robby sat there glaring at Louie for a few seconds, before standing up to go after you. Daniel put a hand on his shoulder, and muttered an “I’ll go,” and went after you. Meanwhile, Amanda was kicking Louie out of the house, using language she would never use in front of her kids in any other sort of situation.

Daniel ran after you. “Y/N! Wait,” 

“What do you want?” you said, wiping tears that had escaped. 

“Look, I’m sorry for what Louie said. If it’s any consolation, Amanda is shouting at him, and kicking him out,” he stated.

“You can’t control what he said. It’s not your fault,” 

“I know, but I’m still sorry, and I’m also sorry for what Sam has been saying. I know you two have your rivalry...thing, but it shouldn’t have come up,”

“Yeah, thanks,” you nodded.

“You did well for handling it as well as you did, had that of been me, I would’ve thrown hands,” he said, impressed.

“Oh, trust me I wanted to. It just doesn’t give off a good impression if you beat the shit out of the people your boyfriend’s living with,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, well I guess not,” he smiled.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Well like, I’m a part of Cobra Kai. I’ve been in fights with your daughter, I’m not what people call the best ‘influence’ on people. Need I say more?” you said

“I see your point, but Robby trusts you. I’ve seen him improve since you two have been together, he seems happier, and if he trusts you, then I do too,” he explained.

“Thank you Mr Larusso,” you said, smiling at him.

“No problem kid,” he smiled back, “Now, if you want to stay for dessert, we have ice cream,” he offered.

“I think I’d just rather go home, if that’s okay,” you said.

“That’s totally fine, alright? I’ll go get Robby to take you home?” 

“Yes please,” you said, “Thank you,”

“Your welcome. I’ll see you soon,”

“Bye”

Robby came out a minute after Daniel had left, and immediately hugged you, “Are you okay?” he mumbled.

“I will be. I just want to go home,” you replied. 

“Okay, lets go, yeah?” he asked. You replied by nodding your head, yes.

**********

You and Robby had arrived at your house, and he walked you up to the front door. “Can you stay with me?” you asked.

“Yeah of course,”

You both made your way up the stairs and into your room. You grabbed some comfy clothes, and changed in the bathroom, before coming back to Robby.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

“A little. Can we cuddle?” 

He just laid down in your bed, and opened his arms for you to lay in. You positioned yourself in his arms so your head was on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heart beating.

Robby kissed the top of your head. You shifted your head to look up at him. He kissed your lips.

You knew that this boy would be the death of you.

@blackoutgirx

#robby cobra kai imagine #robby keene x reader #robby keene imagine #robby keene #robby cobra kai #cobra kai fanfic #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #daniel larusso #sam larusso #amanda larusso #miyagi do

[stilemawillow]

Hi can I request a dadlevi x momreader where they have a teenage daughter and the 104th cadet boys gave a crush on her and Levi gets really protective and the reader has to reassure him that she's not a baby anymore pleaseeee thank you😁

welp, i’m usually slow as a sloth with requests but if you don’t mind it being a short drabble i can sure as hell crack up sth soo sorry if it’s a bit too short but here goes, hope you like it anonie (also i kind of said trabble and it turned out 1500 words, sorry) ________________________________________________

“This is getting out of hand, Levi.” Your words were low around the table at the mess hall as your raven-haired husband fixed the cadets across from you with a murderous glare. You put a hand to his tense shoulder and could distinctly hear Mike and Hanji snort from next to you at Levi’s click of the tongue - still, his abuse didn’t stop.

Your daughter glanced at her father once, smiling happily from her place in between the cheerful males of the 104th squad and proceeding to be rather oblivious when it came to his foul mood. Admittedly, he hadn’t spoken about it to anybody but, as the mother of his rather grown-up child and the woman who’d spent well over two decades with him already, you didn’t need a verbal explanation to gather why he was being so pissy.

Since your daughter had been enlisted in the Corps (something her and Levi and you and her had had two separate rather long arguments about), she was in the spotlight, or, well, something of the sort. She was kind enough to communicate with her peers and funny enough to make them laugh, and the looks she’d mostly inherited from you did its part when it came to charming the rookies you’d later checked were named Jean Kirstein, Reiner Braun, Connie Springer, Armin Arlert and partly, the very special Eren Jaeger.

They were her comrades and she regarded them as such - close people she would protect and work with in the future, and they regarded her the same with just a little bit of an ulterior motive. Naturally, parents were good at noticing those stuff and the usually emotion-incompetent Levi Ackerman was no exception when it came to Jean’s heart eyes mirroring his own aimed at you in the past.

As a good father who couldn’t, however, reveal his identity straight-up, he made sure to mentor the kids as harshly as he could, strict in his teachings and rather sadistic out of them. The poor boys had handled stable and kitchen duty more than any previous rookies enlisted and two or three of them had gotten lucky enough to clean up a whole storage of 3DM gear and run laps till they fainted. You were nurturing when it came to those undeserved mishaps and ended up playing the good cop who gave the poor boys water and let them sleep for the rest of the day.

Levi didn’t know it but the harder his punishments got, the more reason his daughter had to pity the boys and question her father’s behaviour. We arrive at a moment where he could no longer think of a suitable punishment to pull through with enough reason and, of course, your endless nagging on the topic. Your daughter didn’t need to know about this secret little bickering, as the cadets didn’t know she was your child and nobody but the superiors were aware of your relationship with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

“I’m just monitoring.” The raven’s excuse was laughable as you were leaving the mess hall and he literally stalked his daughter and her tall charmers to the training fields, where you decided to pull him along into the building and have a little talk.

“This is ridiculous, do you realise what you’re doing?” Your question struck nothing in him as he made his way to the second floor of the building only so he could observe from above the training the 104th cadets would undertake with Hanji. His hawk eyes pierced the window and the boys surrounding his precious little baby, and in that moment you felt a little soft when it came to reprimanding him.

“I’m watching my fucking child.” He argued with a grumble and crossed arms, making you sigh as you leaned against the window and observed his features. You could guess only by the pissed off twitch of his brow your daughter had been paired to combat with some of the boys he so disliked.

“But she’s not in danger.” You objected with a snort to which he rolled his eyes. “Also our child.” The addition made his frown more sarcastic, then you pushed at his shoulder and glanced outside. The sun was shining and your husband was silent - and you had to be a good wife and mother at the same time. “Now, I need you to hear me out. Our daughter is fifteen years old and she’s part of the worst group possible. Maybe we can concern ourselves more with her safety and happiness, not so much with the boys she has as friends.”

“It’s unacceptable for them to slack off this much, not to mention you’re defending her. You pointed it out, she’s just fifteen.” The emphasis was a cold slap in your face, then you were eyeing him pointedly.

“Levi,” his grey hues left the window for a second to lock with your gaze, “I was fifteen when I met you.” Your words made him suck in a breath but his obstinance had no limits when it came to his overprotective nature.

“All the more fucking reason for me to protect her.”

“No, all the more reason for us to watch from afar and let her live her life. She’s a teenager once and the fact she’s bonding with her comrades isn’t going to kill her.” The brow he quirked at you made you glare, then you beat him to speaking. “She’s not a baby anymore, we take care of her, yes, but we have to give her some freedom too. Otherwise, we’ll get a rebellious period and I can’t handle managing both your explosive asses once that happens.” His spiteful snort was provocative but his figure turned away from the window to glare at you - good, so he was buckling.

“My ass is explosive only when I drink too much coffee.” His childish retort made you chuckle - you took it as him admitting defeat by not addressing the issue any further.

“And when Hanji cooks.” Your joke called forth an eye-roll from him, then his lips pursed and you smiled at his pale countenance. “It’s fine being worried, she’s been sheltered her whole life and suddenly you’re forced to watch her form connections with people who’re not us. I would say, however,” your smile slowly curled into a smirk as you glanced at the training fields through the window, “she can beat up the boys if they annoy her without your help.”

His brows furrowed and his attention followed your gaze, and you watched your fifteen-year-old daughter flip the blond Reiner Braun over her shoulder with a move Levi had taught her when she was ten. He fell to the ground and, from experience, you knew how much it hurt when all the air was pushed out of your lungs in that moment. Next thing he knew, a foot had stepped on his dominant hand’s wrist and a small hand held a wooden knife to his throat.

In your peripheral vision, you saw the satisfied flicker in Levi’s orbs and decided he wouldn’t be arguing with you on the topic of this anymore. Also, he might as well spare the boys their duties. If his daughter could handle the biggest one this easily, she could land a kick to the testicles effortlessly if any of them proved problematic. You shook your head at the sight and how proud Levi seemed due to it, then you realised he was back to watching you.

“On the topic of us meeting when you were still a brat, are you insinuating anything?” You began waving your hands around in a “no” when he glared at the field, then at you. You’d just denied when he tactfully cut in with: “Far as I remember, you jumped me and you had eighteen.” You let out an awkward laugh and his glare got all the more deadly.

“Haha, about that. I actually lied so you’d let me.” The slow admittance slipped past your dry lips and you watched your husband doubt everything you’d told him in your shared life. You could see him recall everything and make sure he was in the right - except you’d been stupid as a teenager and twice as scheming.

“But your birthday had passed.” He argued coldly, unsuspecting of the truth and ever so sweet because he put so much trust in you.

“And about that, my birthday’s kind of a month after the date I told you.” You watched his eyes widen and began ranting, as per tradition when he came close to blowing a fuse and you wanted to avoid being collateral damage. “I know what you’re thinking, I’m so lucky that my wife is even younger than I thought she was, she’s so attractive and youthful---”

“I’m thinking how I’m about to beat your ass in our next combat session for lying to me for twenty fucking years, that’s what I’m thinking.”

#asks #drabbles #drabbles for anonies #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #reader insert #fluff with a daughter #with a spin at the end #because parents are more iconic than their kids sometimes

[hyuckssunchip]

Hasty Encounters, Hasty Decisions

Pairings: Yuta x Reader, ft. nct 127

Words: 10K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), drinking, slight smut, insinuation of sex

Summary: 

Y/N and Yuta meet for the first time and learn quickly of not only their attractions, but also their many more differences. Painful words and revelations leave a deep ridge between the two of them, that is until someone makes a shocking confession. Will they continue to make hasty decisions, or will they learn to forgive and forget?

Yuna was the exact opposite of you. She was gorgeous, outgoing and such a party person. You’d rather chill at home and binge your favorite drama for the billionth time, and that’s exactly how you planned to spend this weekend, however, Yuna had different plans.

“Come on, this is the last one of the semester! The NCT frat house always has legendary end of the semester parties. Besides you haven’t been to one yet, you need to broaden your horizons.” She kept jabbing your side, as if that was a good tactic to make you agree to her idea.

“No, I already set up my computer for six straight episodes of Penthouse, it’s too late now.” You gave her a triumphant grin, as if that were enough to get Yuna off your case.

“Are you serious right now?” She rolled her eyes at you, “This is ridiculous, I get that the actors are hot and all, but these are the hot guys in real life! Stop pining over some made up character and get it on with a real guy!”

“Who’s getting it on with a real guy?” 

“Mark, Yuna keeps trying to take away my drama time, she’s trying to force me to go to a frat party.” You whined to him. Surely he would take your side, he’s a homebody just like yourself.

“The NCT frat party? I heard those are awesome. Why don’t you want to go?”

Sike.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you Mark, you’re supposed to take my side unconditionally.”

“Right… Yuna why do you want her to go so badly?”

“Mark, don’t you want to go to the party? They’re even better than what people say.”

“Really?”

“Mark!” You tugged at his shirt.

“What? I’ve always wanted to go. You know you should really get out there more. I think Yuna’s right on this one.”

“See?” Yuna gave you a smug look.

“Mark, you’re not helping.”

He swung his arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer, “Maybe you should go to this one, I think it’ll be fun.”

“You’re only saying that cause you want to go.”

“Is it working?” He grinned at you before you shrugged his arm off your shoulder.

“No. I already told you, I’ve got a busy weekend up ahead.”

“Yeah of bingeing dramas.” Yuna put her hands on her hips in protest.

Mark tilts his head at you, “How about this? If you go this weekend, I promise that I will help you set up that editing software on your computer that you’ve been wanting.”

“Deal.” There was no hesitation. You’ve been dying for him to help you for months but he never got around to it.

“Damn, that was easy.” Yuna grinned, “I’ve got tons of stuff you can borrow for tomorrow night!”

“What’s wrong with my stuff?” You frowned.

“Umm… have you seen your closet?” There was a snicker from beside you, but it was quickly cut off when you elbowed him in the side.

“I agree with Yuna on this one too.” Mark said, rubbing his side where you had just jabbed him. “Your clothes just aren’t suitable for a frat party.”

“And how would you know?” You mocked him, knowing he’d never been to one before.

“I’ve seen many movies, thank you very much.”

“Not the same Mark, but regardless you both are coming with me.” Yuna spoke up, “My class is gonna start in fifteen and it’s across campus so I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later. Don’t think you can ditch this one!”

She ran off in the other direction before there was room for response.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Mark chuckled, throwing his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, ever since she and Johnny broke up, it’s like she’s going there to make sure he sees that she’s doing fine. To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”

“Everyone goes through different ways of mourning y’know? That’s just Yuna.” He shrugged, kicking the stone in front of him. 

You dropped it, feeling the mellow mood.

“Well, I should head to class then, I’ll see you at lunch yeah?” You nodded in response and with that he left.

“Sure.” Your eyes followed his back as he continued kicking stones out of his way.

Beep Beep!

“Are you sure this isn’t too short? I’m pretty sure you can see all of my ass.”

“Y/N, that’s the point.” You shot her a look. “Besides you’ll be so drunk you’ll feel fantastic either way. You look hot.” She flashed you a smile and grabbed your arm.

“Now come on! Mark’s waiting.”

You groaned, dragging your feet in resistance. The couch looked so comfy right now.

Beep Beep!

“Yeah we get it Mark!” Yuna yelled, “Come on.”

You were pushed into the passenger seat and she slammed the door on you, sliding into the back right after. 

Yuna leaned forward resting her arms on the both of the seats in front of her. “Ready?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the window. You glanced at Mark, who was staring at the rear view mirror. You smiled at his face.

“Wow.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and glancing at you. “You look great. You guys look great.”

You sent him a small smile, but went back to looking out the window. 

“Of course we do, we spent hours on this.” Yuna scoffed. 

“Right.” With one last glance in the mirror at Yuna, he started the car and headed to the address.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, starting to get nervous.

“How ever long we want to. You know you could even stay the night.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you, but in vain.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Right. Just make sure you text me to let me know if you’re going home with someone.” She laughed, “That goes for all of us, I don’t want to be stranded without a ride home Mark.” 

Mark blushed and shook his head, not really replying.

There was a comfortable silence throughout the ride and you hadn’t noticed that you had already arrived until the echoing sound of music hit your ears.

“Alright! Are we ready!?” Suddenly you had a headache, and Yuna was not helping.

You were unceremoniously dragged out of the car while Mark, slowly clambored out of his side.

“Let’s go already.” 

“You know I can walk on my own right?”

“I know, but you’re a flight risk.” She gripped my arm tighter and pulled you to the front of the frat, skipping the large line that seemed to wrap around the street.

“Yuna! Pleasure to see you again!” And with that you were let in.

It felt as though you were entering a whole new world when you walked through that door. You saw many familiar faces, and many unfamiliar. 

“How about we start off with drinks?” She hooked her arms into both yours and Mark’s and dragged you to the makeshift bar. You held eye contact with Mark before letting out a sheepish grin. 

If there’s gonna be lots of alcohol involved, how bad could it be?

“Yuna! I’ve got special mixes for you, unless you’re here for the hard stuff. But you know how good my cocktails are. So what are we starting off with?” The man with silver brown hair at the table shouted over the music.

“Taeil!” Yuna smiled, giving him a small hug, leaving you and Mark feeling empty and vulnerable. “I’ll take you up on your mix, I know how many shots you can get into a cocktail. These are my friends, Y/N and Mark. Can you show them a bit of your magic?”

There was a friendly laugh as the man, Taeil, shot you both a smile. “Of course! Is this your first time here?” He asked whilst pouring his concoction.

You nodded silently, looking at Yuna for help, but she wasn’t paying any attention.

“Thought so, I would definitely remember someone like you.” He gave you a wink, handing the first one to you.

You immediately sipped it, not knowing how to answer his comment, evident in your blushing face. 

“Oh my god. This is amazing.” You looked up at him, actually confused at how you couldn’t taste the alcohol, seeing as you saw just how much he poured into that drink.

“That’s Taeil for you, he knows how to get everyone the most fucked up.” She grinned at him, taking both drinks from him and handing one to Mark, keeping the other for herself. 

He grinned, “Of course, come back when you’re done, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“You’ll be seeing plenty of me.” She sang back while dragging the two of you off again. She pulled you to a crowd of yelling people, and as curious as you were, you’d much rather sit on the couch and sip your drink.

“Okay but actually what’s in this?” Mark asked, he sounded as amazed as you felt and you laughed at his expression. 

“I don’t know, but it’s amazing right?” You took another sip, turning your attention to the loud cheers from the people around you.

Some unfortunate frat boy was doing a keg stand, held up by Johnny. “Jungwoo! Man, you good? That was a shit ton this time.”

The boy with fluffy brown haired grinned toothily, “I don’t know man, I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

“Alright, you go have fun then.” Johnny laughed, shoving the keg under a table. “Beer pong anyone?”

You rolled your eyes. Johnny and Yuna had dated for a short time earlier this year, but you never really liked Johnny. I mean in general he was a fun guy, everyone liked him, it was hard for you not to. But as a boyfriend? With Yuna? Nope. You saw what she went through and that wasn’t healthy. It’s not like you hated him, in fact you and Johnny had plenty of fun conversations, but he was too out there for you.

You sighed, turning away from the commotion of guys trying to earn the chance to play against Johnny.

“Hey where are you going?” Yuna asked, still staring at the table. You pointed to your now empty drink, “I’m gonna get more!” You yelled back.

She loosened her grip nodding, but you were sure she stopped listening.

“You want me to go with you?” Mark asked, but you could tell he wanted to stay with Yuna and watch. 

“No I’m fine. I’ll be back soon, I’ll probably get a drink and then some fresh air. I promise.” He nodded, frowning at you. At least he cared enough to look worried. 

You headed back to the familiar table, “Back so soon?”

“Yeah, I don’t even remember drinking all of it.” You laughed, “That probably means it’s working right?”

He chuckled, “It works wonders. So what do you want this time? Something strong or sweet or just something that’ll knock you out?”

You giggled at the offer, “You know, as tempting as that last one is, I think I’ll just go with sweet. Make it so I can’t taste it.”

“Right, coming right up.” 

There was another obnoxious cheer. “Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!”

“What are they up to? Beer pong?” He asked, back facing the crowd.

“Yeah.”

“Go figures, that’s the only game Yuta slaughters Johnny in.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey can I get something?” The keg boy from earlier stumbled up to you, obviously having trouble standing still.

“Jungwoo, man what’s up?” Taeil chuckled, handing you your drink as he faced the boy. 

“I feel great.” The grin was so endearing that you felt the need to smile with him. 

“I’m sure you do buddy. You wanted a drink right?” Taeil reached down for a bottle of Vodka from under the table. You frowned, looking at the half full bottle still on the counter.

“Yeah,” The boy giggled, turning to face you. “Hi. I’m Jungwoo. You’re kinda hot.”

You blushed, sipping your drink. You shouldn’t have been affected, this boy was drunk out of his mind, he probably thought that anything with two legs was hot.

“Here you go buddy. I made this one good, you probably can’t even taste it.” Taeil walked around the table to hand it to Jungwoo, standing next to you.

Jungwoo sipped it, nodding his head contently. 

Taeil bent down and whispered in your ear, “ Don’t worry, it’s just pineapple juice mixed with water. He won’t even tell the difference.” He pulled back giving you a grin.

“Hey Jungwoo, why don’t you take this pretty lady outside for some fresh air, I think she could use it.” He winked at you and pointed his head in direction of the empty backyard. 

“Of course I will.” He grinned, sticking his elbow out for you to grab, to which you complied and sent Taeil a little smile on your way out. 

You sat on the stairs of the deck, Jungwoo landing next to you. He was having a little more difficulty trying to sit down without falling over. 

“So what’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You answered softly, taking another sip. It looked like this one was going to be finished just as fast as the last. You shook your head worried about future you.

“Huh. Cute.” He took a long sip of his.

Again you blushed. You really needed to stop doing that every time some guy talks to you.

“You know you’re kinda cute to be hanging out here.” He commented mindlessly, chewing on a block of ice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like you’re hot, but you seem like you’re too sweet y’know, to be hanging out at a frat house.”

You giggled, “It’s not like I wanted to come here. But you know I’m not having a bad time.” 

Another sip.

“Yeah? That’s good. You a student here?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m a Sophomore, what are you?” He was a bit blunt, but you didn’t mind, the alcohol was kicking in and you were beginning to think everything was funny. Honestly, sober you would’ve probably thought this whole situation was funny too.

“I’m a Junior.”

“Oh.”

He paused, thinking.

“You know I’m into older women.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. And he grinned at you, leaning back on his elbows, his drink long gone. 

“Well that’s a shame, cause I’m into older men.” He pouted at you. 

“People actually think I’m a lot older than I am.”

“I’m sure they do Jungwoo.”

He grinned at you.

“Hey, I kinda like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth.”

Again, you couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter from erupting. 

“Jungwoo, you’re a total flirt.” You had your hand covering your mouth as you tried to stop the giggles, swaying towards him. 

He let out a little giggle. You lost your balance and fell towards him, leaning against his shoulder. Jungwoo could hardly manage to keep himself up let alone both your weights. The two of you tumbled flat on the deck, in giggling fits. 

You sighed, finally calming yourself as you rolled over staring at the black sky, not a single star in sight.

You turned your head sharply and faced Jungwoo, his nose only and inch away from yours. You could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to you as he eyes were trained on your lips. 

“You wanna dance?”

“Huh?”

“I wanna dance. Are you coming?” You attempted to push yourself up, struggling for a good minute.

Jungwoo followed, “Yeah, only if you help me get up, I think I might be a little drunk.” He laughed to himself.

“A little?” You had no right to tease him.

Pulling each other up, you guys somehow managed to make it back inside. As you stumbled inside together Mark happened to find you, holding on to your waist to stabilize you. 

“Dude where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you.” You giggled, hanging on to both Mark and Jungwoo. He sniffed, smelling the alcohol on you.

“How much did you drink? You smell like a sketchy gas station.” His nose crinkled.

Jungwoo stumbled, pulling you and consequently Mark with him. 

“Woah man, maybe you should sit down.” Mark reached his arm out to grab Jungwoo.

“But I’m gonna dance with Y/N.” He whined, but nevertheless letting Mark lead him to the couch.

“Next time yeah?” 

Jungwoo nodded, gladly sinking into the cushion.

“Y/N how about you? You good?” Mark asked, leaning down to your eye level. You leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes for a bit. 

“Mmmmm.”

“Mmmmm? What’s that mean? You need something?” You shook your head, opting to wrap your arms around his waist. 

The two of you swayed there for a bit, until you started to feel dizzy. “Water?”

“Huh?” His head was resting on top of yours. “You want water?” He pulled away, once again looking you in the eyes.

He nodded slowly at you, “Okay, I’ll get you water, you just stay right here okay?”

You leaned against the couch and smiled at him nodding in response. 

He was only gone for a moment when you felt a presence invading your space. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You opened your eyes. 

Woah.

He smiled at you, liking your reaction, “Woah?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Your hand reached for the lock of blonde hair nearest to you. He chuckled, grabbing your hand, “I’m gonna go with no then.”

You looked up at him, wide eyed earning you a grin. “Wanna dance?”

There was nothing left to do but nod.

He grabbed your head, softly pulling you towards the space everyone was dancing on. From the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you saw Yuna making out with that guy from your Calculus class but you shook it off, there were more important things in front of you.

You were tugged against his chest, and the heat coming off his chest making you feel dizzy. After a few moments he turned you around, placing his hand under your chin, leaning your head back in the crevice of his neck. You closed your eyes. His hands once softly gripping your waist dug into your hips, dragging you closer if that was possible. As your bodies grinded against each other, you felt his lips make contact with your exposed neck. You gasped, stretching your neck more in order to give him as much access as you could. Already you could feel the spots where hickies would be impossible to hide the next day, but you didn’t care. 

Soon the kisses and licks turned into love bites and the grip on your waist grew firmer. It was becoming much easier to feel the growing eagerness of your partner. You rotated your hips, pushing back into him and he threw his head back groaning. 

“Fuck, how about we take this upstairs?” He moaned into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your stomach clench.

Somehow you made it upstairs, stumbling through frenzied kisses and already swollen lips. He pushed your backwards through a wooden door frame and immediately turned you around as he slammed the door shut. He trapped you against the cool wood panel before attacking your neck once more, you let out a gasp, running his hands over his chest. His lips didn’t stop attacking until he found your sweet spot, you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair pulling slightly. He moaned into your neck before swearing and pushing you towards the bed. 

Before you had even made it there he managed to rid you of your dress.

“Fuck, you know that shit really wasn’t leaving much for the imagination.” He quickly pulled his top off and pushed you down, crawling you top of you to leave a trail of kisses down your body.

“God, you’re fucking hot.” He groaned as his lips traced the black lace of your bra that Yuna forced you into.

You sunk further into the bed, his body crashing into yours, unbelievably close, as his fingers left blazing hot trails on your body.

You were wrapped around each other in the morning as you woke up. Your eyes opened slowly meeting the already awake eyes of the man next to you. For a moment you stared at each other in silence, relishing the peaceful moments before your hangover would kick in.

There was a loud clang from downstairs, causing you to flinch. The moment was over.

He pulled away from you harshly turning to throw on sweats and a shirt before moving past you to the bathroom. You wrapped yourself in the sheets sitting up and watched his back.

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to face you, “Don’t you know to leave before I wake up?” He gave you a one over while shaking his head at you. “It was just a fuck.”

You sat in silence, only jumping at the sound of the bathroom door slamming. Suddenly you felt sick. You scrambled out of bed to find the pieces of last night’s outfit scattered around the floor.

As soon as you were dressed and you cleaned yourself up as much as you could in the mirror, you ran towards the stairs. The smell of bacon wafted past you, making you wish you didn’t feel the nausea that was slowly rising. 

“Y/N?” Taeil turned to see you rush past the kitchen. You stopped, backtracking to the doorway and gave him a tentative smile.

He looked at his watch and frowned, “You’re still here?”

“She was with Yuta.” A boy with black curly hair and a grey hoodie said, munching on his apple. He spun in his chair before stopping in your direction.

Yuta? Well shit, you didn’t even know his name until now.

“I’m surprised you’re still here. Yuta usually makes sure his girls leave before he wakes up. Honestly, most of them don’t even get to spend the night, he just kicks them out after his little escapade. I’m Doyoung by the way.” He flashed a little smile and tilted his head at you.

“Oh.” You blushed looking down at your feet. “I was just on my way out.” 

He nodded, getting what you meant. 

“Oh? Y/N?” You turned to find a familiar face. 

“Jungwoo?” He smiled sheepishly at you, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sorry about last night. I don’t really remember much except us falling over each other. I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable did I?”

You blushed in response. “No, trust me I think it was mutual last night.” You laughed nervously, rubbing your arms, suddenly immensely aware of your less than modest outfit. 

“Here!” Jungwoo stripped off his blue hoodie, leaving him in a plain white tee. He stuck his hand out, offering you the jacket, which you took gratefully. Even though you weren’t planning on staying long, it was freezing outside and you’d have to wait for a ride to come get you.

Mark! You totally forgot to tell him, you mentally slapped your forehead, knowing that he wasn’t going to let this go too easily. 

The sweatshirt hung just above the length of your dress, not doing much for modesty down there, but it still felt more comfortable than before. 

There was a slam and a girl came running down the stairs and towards the door, she gave you a knowing glance before exiting the building.

You sighed, you should probably get going now, Mark was going to throw a fit but you knew he'd show up anyways.

A hand came down on your shoulder, the man behind it chuckling as he watched the scene. 

“You staying for breakfast Y/N?” He moved around you, grabbing a plate from Taeil and sitting down.

“Jaehyun.” You froze. You and Jaehyun were kind of friends. You had met through Yuna and Johnny. Actually you got along really well with him, you just lost contact after Johnny and Yuna broke up.

He flashed you a dimpled smile.

“No, I should get going.”

He nodded, already digging in, “You have a ride back?”

You paused. He noticed, looking up at you. 

“Give me five minutes, let me just finish this and I’ll drop you off. Okay?” 

You nodded and gave him a smile. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt right? Besides then you wouldn’t have to bug Mark so early. 

It was 11 am, but he was probably still knocked out. A ride with Jaehyun wouldn’t kill you. He patted the seat next to you and you took up his offer.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Jungwoo set his plate down opposite of you.

You shook your head, “I don’t think I could keep it down.” 

“Right.” He paused, looking at his own food with hesitation before shrugging and taking a bite. 

Doyoung laughed, sinking into the seat next to the boy, “He’ll probably throw it up, but then he’ll say he made more room and eat again.”

Jungwoo shoved him whilst mid-bite before focusing on the task before him.

You looked at him, “How about you?” Referencing the lone apple in his hand. 

“Oh I don’t drink enough to get sick in the mornings, I’m just less of a bacon dude, more of an apple guy.” He grinned, taking a bite. 

“Johnny?” Taeil asked.

Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, grabbing the coffee Taeil just sat down. 

“Sleeping, you know how he is the day after.”

Taeil nodded, “Yeah, I figured, but I thought he’d smell the bacon and be the first one down.” He laughed to himself grabbing another cup of coffee and raised it in your direction.

You shook your head smiling. Jaehyun threw his arm around the back of your chair and you looked at him. He was sipping the coffee and frowning ahead of him.

“What are you still doing here? Did I not make it clear that you should leave?” Your eyes widened at the sound of the voice you heard this morning. 

“Yuta!” Taeil scolded, still setting down a plate for him. He shrugged in response taking the seat at the head of the table, farthest from you.

Jungwoo looked up intensely chewing and just as intensely glancing between the two of you.

You shrunk down in your seat, avoiding eye contact with him. Jaehyun glanced at you and set down his mug. 

“You ready?” He asked, standing up with a stretch. You immediately followed his lead. 

“Yeah.”

“Let me grab my keys real quick. You haven’t moved right?” 

You nodded, watching Jaehyun jog up the stairs for a moment.

Taeil came and stood next to you, cup in hand, “You guys close?”

You shrugged, turning back to face him. “We used to be.”

He nodded silently, watching Jaehyun reappear.

“Got everything?” He asked, opening the door as you started towards the exit. You nodded and turned back to the kitchen one last time, sending a wave and a smile. 

You didn’t miss Yuta’s scowl.

“Don’t mind Yuta, he’s just usually cranky the night after.” Jaehyun reassured you, but it didn’t do much good. 

You looked out the window and nodded silently.

“Did you atleast enjoy last night?” He asked, attempting at rekindling the conversation.

“Yeah, I think I did. Honestly a lot of it was a blur.” You let out a strained laugh.

He joined you, “That’s what makes it so fun.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a comfortable silence. The car jolted to a stop.

“This is you right?”

You had zoned out and missed half the ride back.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks for the ride. Mark would’ve killed me if I asked him to pick me up.”

He nodded, “No problem. I didn’t mind at all. We should hang out again, I’ve missed you.”

You grinned, “Same, we’ll definitely hang out, just let me know when and where.” 

“Will do.”

You shivered as you stepped out of the car and slammed the door. You stepped back, wrapping your arms around yourself and gave a short wave as he left before making your way to your door.

You let yourself in quietly, taking off your heels and turning around only to let out a startled scream.

“Yuna?! What the hell are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me!” 

Yuna was sitting on the couch staring at the front door, looking as if she had been waiting all night.

“Well? How was last night? I’m assuming things went well because here you are waltzing in at 11:30 in the morning.” She was taunting you.

You groaned, “At least let me shower first.”

She squealed, clapping her hands whilst bouncing on the couch.

You paused, “Last night… Mark…”

Her face scrunched up, “Yeah, he’s kind of pissed. We both forgot to tell him… but we’ll make it up to him. I was thinking we’d bring him lunch.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Wait?! Both forgot? Did you hook up with someone again?!”

She continued shaking her head with a bright smile and shoved you towards the bathroom. “Clean up first!”

She laughed at your protest but you eventually gave in.

“Maaarrrk. Come on, we said we’re sorry. I mean honestly we were both drunk out of our minds, how could we have even texted you?” Yuna pouted at him, something she always did to get her way with him.

He looked away, staring at the cupcakes you had brought as a peace offering.

“If it makes you feel any better I made a complete fool out of myself this morning.” You said, still twiddling your thumbs. 

He cocked his head slightly, an indication that you had his attention.

“The guy I slept with totally threw me out.”

He frowned, looking at you, “Why on earth would that make me feel any better?”

You shrugged avoiding eye contact.

“Who was it?”

“What? Are you gonna beat him up?” Yuna asked, laughing as she stole a cupcake.

“Maybe.” He turned his attention to you, “So who?”

“Yuta.”

“Yuta? As NCT frat boy Yuta? Why would you sleep with him?” He asked, his voice increasing a decibel. 

“Umm.. Have you seen him? He’s hot as hell.” Yuna said, licking the frosting off her fingers before giving him a look. “I’m glad she did. It’s about time she got some action.”

“How can you be glad she slept with him? He’s a total asshole! Plus he kicked her out this morning!” He asked, reaching for the coveted cupcake. She slapped his hand away, taking a bite.

“Okay, but everyone knows when you sleep with someone at a party, you don’t stay the night, or you at least don’t stay long enough for breakfast in the morning. No offense.” The last part directed at you, but you just continued to stare at the floor.

“Well, wouldn’t you know?” Mark spat out, for once losing his temper. 

Yuna paused and gave him a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, just because you go sleeping around and know the ‘etiquette’ or whatever, doesn’t mean that someone like Y/N would know.” He turned around blocking himself off from her gaze.

“Whatever. I don’t need this.” She stood up grabbing her bag. “We came to apologize, I didn’t come to be attacked. You know I’m sorry I ditched you last night but I don’t need to be called a whore cause you’re still pissy about the whole thing.” 

She slammed the door on the way out, glaring at nothing in particular.

Well. There goes your ride.

Mark sighed, slouching into the cushion of his couch.

“I didn’t call her a whore. At least I didn’t mean to. It’s just she was totally attacking you, and you did nothing wrong. Except maybe sleep with a dickwad.” He groaned, rubbing his hands on his face. “I would never kick you out like that.”

“I know.” You replied, leaning into his side. “I don’t think she’s actually that mad, she’s just struggling right now. You know how she’s been since they broke up.”

“I just think she’s so desensitized, that she doesn’t even know how to be treated right.”

“I know.” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while.

They weren’t his frat brothers but you were sure he told them all about you and your mistake, judging by the way they were laughing at you.

“Screw them.” Yuna said, glaring at the group. “It’s not even that big of a deal, he should be honored he slept with you.”

You kept your head down, mentally cursing yourself for ever letting him get to you.

The semester had already ended and you had almost forgotten about the frat house and the embarrassment that followed, that is until Yuta and his friends sat themselves behind you in lecture today.

Yuna made a face at you, an attempt to brighten you up. A whole semester with them behind you? This was an actual nightmare.

“Where is Mark?” Yuna muttered checking her phone. “Look I’ve got to go or I’ll be late to my class but you’ll have Mark so don’t let them get to you alright?” 

You nodded, playing with the strings of your sweatshirt. With one last glare Yuna exited the back of the lecture hall.

You felt a presence next you and you stiffened.

“This’ll be fun, don’t you think?” You groaned, of course he would have the nerve to sit next to you only as soon as Yuna leaves. 

You chose to ignore him.

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was smirking, “Luck really was on my side-”

“That’s my seat.”

Both you and Yuta looked up and you sighed in relief seeing that it was Mark, “I don’t see a name on it.” Yuta cocked his head, the smirk still plastered over his face. 

Mark just stared at him, not moving. 

Eventually Yuta sighed, standing up and staring down at Mark, the height difference only enhancing the mood he was going for. “It’s a shame you’re no fun.” He moved to the seat behind yours and rested his feet on the back of your chair.

You grimaced as you felt the pressure, and rolled your eyes in annoyance. Mark sat down, turning to you.

“You good?” He asked, leaning in close to you.

Again, you nodded silently.

This was going to be a long semester.

“Are you still coming over to my place tonight?” Mark asked, packing his notebook in his bag.

Nodding, you replied, “Yeah, I still have clothes there right? I’ve got to run to the library and get some stuff first, then I’ll just come over.”

“Yeah, if not, you can just borrow something of mine.” 

You nodded in agreement, watching as the last of his things were secured in his bag. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head out, text me if you need anything.” He waved back at you and made his way out of the hall.

You felt Yuta lean his head forward inches away from yours. You flinched away, bending down to get your things.

“You have plans tonight?” You frowned at his question, or rather statement. He had obviously heard the conversation between you and Mark.

You chose to ignore him, one of your greater ideas.

“Umm.. There’s a party this weekend, if you wanna come.”

You struggled to hold back a snort. Was this his new way of tormenting you? Why on earth would you go to another one of his frat parties?

“It’s for Jaehyun’s birthday.”

You froze, hand half way in your backpack. After a moment you stood up, clearing your throat, attempting to move towards the exit only to find him blocking your way.

You peered behind him, his regular clique of friends long gone, you frowned. 

“What?” You breathed out, tired of whatever mind game that he wanted to play.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the ever present scowl replaced by a timid look.

“I think it’d be nice of you to go. Cause you’re friends and all.” He shrugged half heartedly, like he was struggling to ask you to go.

He glanced at your scrunched face, confusion written all over it. 

“It’s gonna be a small party, not like a huge thing. Just the boys and a few friends.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s gonna be really chill.”

“Right.”

You hesitated to ask for the date and time, but it was for Jaehyun’s birthday so you felt obligated. 

You and Jaehyun had gotten closer over the last few months, a small joy in a hectic semester. 

“It’s Friday, at seven. Don’t feel obligated to bring anything but yourself.” He sent you a small smile, one that sent an unsettling feeling through your stomach. 

You nodded, skeptical of the situation. Your mind was racing, an internal struggle overwhelming you.

By the time you had focused back in, there was a stream of students passing by you, already entering for the next lecture, Yuta no where to be found. 

You sighed, hiking your backpack up on your back and heading towards the library. 

It was hard to concentrate on the task ahead of you, especially when all you had was thoughts of what was to come this weekend. 

“Excuse me.” You flinched, nodding apolegitcally at the girl who reached for a book that you were blocking. 

You shook your head, trying to remember what you had come here for. After a half and hour of racking your brain you gave up, opting to just go to Mark’s.

“So I didn’t find any of your clothes, but you’ve got your toothbrush here.” You weren’t focused on what Mark was saying, walking into his apartment in a daze. 

“Y/N?” You turned to face him, eyes slightly more alert.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

You sighed, flopping on to the couch and closed your eyes.

He sat next to you, and you felt his intense gaze over you.

You sat up suddenly, facing him. “What would you do if you had a friend who wasn’t really on good terms with a friend of a friend and you were invited to this friend’s kickback but it would be awkward to bring your other friend, but then it would be wrong if you didn’t tell this friend about the party, but it would also be bad to not go to the other friend’s party cause it’s his birthday?”

“What?” 

You sighed, collecting your thoughts. “Jaehyun’s frat is having a party to celebrate his birthday and I was invited.”

“Okay... so?” He furrowed his eyebrows. 

“It’s supposed to be a small thing, like just the frat and a few friends.”

“Right? What’s the problem?”

“Mark, what do I tell Yuna? I can’t tell her that I’m going to a party cause she’ll want to come, but that would be weird because it’s a small thing, and you know,,, Johnny. I’m sure she’ll end up making a scene.”

Mark sighed, looking away from you. “Just don’t tell her, or do, and just say she can’t go. I don’t really care.” 

He stood up making his way to the kitchen. You groaned. Mark and Yuna haven’t quite been the same since the incident after the party. You haven’t found them willingly enter the same room, and even if they were forced to, they refused to interact. You were often caught in the middle of they’re snide remarks regarding each other.

“I don’t really want to go alone though. I’m not close enough with any of the frat guys to hang out there.” You griped, hands fiddling with your sleeves again.

“I thought you were cool with them.”

“Yeah, we’re friendly enough, but it’s still awkward.”

There was a poignant pause. 

“Mark?” You whined, hoping that he would catch the hint.

“No, I’m done with parties.” He held up a hand, waving it in refusal.

“But it’s going to be a small one, it’s not even a real party. Please?”

“Are you even allowed to bring anyone?”

You shrugged, “He didn’t say, but it doesn’t matter, they won’t make you leave. And if they do then I’ll just say hi to Jaehyun and then leave.”

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Who even invited you?”

“Yuta.” You whispered out.

“Yuta? Why would he invite you?” He frowned, deep in his own thoughts.

“He said it would be nice for Jaehyun. Plus I doubt he’s going to do anything, especially because it’s Jae’s birthday. You know as much as a dick he is to girls, he probably cares about his frat brothers.” You found yourself defending Yuta.

He shot you a look, before shaking his head. 

“You owe me.”

You grinned, pumping your fists in victory.

“Yes! I owe you a thousand times.” You stood up, “Where my sweats?”

“You mean my sweats.” He just shook his head and pointed towards his room, “They’re on my chair.”

You slid past his door, grabbing hold of the sweats that had been designated as yours. 

After changing a picture on his desk caught your eye. It was a photo of the three of you at the beach, a memory made last year during spring break. You smiled to yourself, eyes tracing over the bright smiles. Your eyes shook as they reached Mark’s profile, too busy staring at Yuna to focus on the lense of the camera. 

You winced, recognizing the way that he looked at Yuna, your heart broke for him. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the way he watched her, but seeing it so definite made you hurt for him.

“Y/N? You coming? I’m gonna start the movie if you don’t hurry your ass up!” Mark shouted from the living room, and you tore yourself away, skidding back to the couch.

“Stop doing that, you’re gonna crash into something.” He laughed at you.

“What’s the point of having hardwood floors then?” You climbed over the back of the couch after dumping your clothes next to your bag. 

“Who said you got to choose?” You grumbled to yourself.

“Me, cause you owe me a thousand favors now.” You smiled cheesily at him, hoping to ease his irritation with the situation you dragged him into.

“Right. Do you want anything to drink, eat, possibly a foot massage that would appease you?”

He shoved you upon hearing your teasing tone. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You laughed, turning to focus on the screen ahead of you.

You opted for something a bit more casual than what you wore the last time you entered the frat house, definitely a bit more modest. 

The mood was totally different the moment that you passed the door. 

“Y/N! You came!” You smiled at the familiar face.

“Of course I came, it’s Jae’s birthday.”

Jungwoo peered at Mark who stood next to you, taking in the house as if it was his first time seeing it. 

“Who’s this?” He frowned, racking his brain and trying to connect face to name.

“Oh you probably don’t remember.” You laughed at the memory, “This is Mark, he kind of took care of you at the party we met at.”

His eyes flashed at sudden recognition.

“Oh! Right, you were the one that stole Y/N away from me! I never did get that dance.” He grinned cheekily at Mark’s flustered expression.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on drinking that much this time.” He winked at you.

“That’s what you said last time.” A skinny boy with wide eyes interrupted him, throwing his arm around his shoulder.

The newcomer smiled at you, eyes turning into half moons. “I’m Taeyong, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“That’s cause you haven’t.” The familiar laid back tone answered before you a chance to. 

“You were out of town the last time she was here.” Doyoung faced you, giving you a brief smile before turning back to Taeyong. “You know if you stuck around and chilled like everyone else then you would’ve known.”

You felt the tension between the two of them, glancing at Mark who had the same expression on his face. 

“I’m here now, so what’s the problem?” The tone was less teasing than you expected, obviously things weren’t smooth between the two of them.

“It doesn’t matter, if you didn’t up and leav-”

“Her name’s Y/N.” Jungwoo interrupted, not caring that it wasn’t quite the right timing to introduce you.

The irritation washed off Taeyong’s face as he sent you a soft smile. “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He winked at your nervous expression. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I think I need a drink.” After sending Doyoung a glare he found Taeil close by.

“Sorry about that.” Doyoung muttered embarrassed, but he didn’t seem too genuine about his apology.

You smiled back at him, another awkward glance at Mark.

“Well drinks anyone?” Jungwoo asked, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You giggled at him. 

He glared at you teasingly, “What are you trying to say?”

“Okay okay, here.” Taeil swept by shoving a handful of drinks in your direction.

“Well that was easy.” Jungwoo commented before moving to greet the next newcomer. 

With everything happening so quickly you hadn’t noticed that Doyoung had also escaped.

“See. I told you it would be awkward, if you weren’t here I’d be standing alone in a corner.” You shoved Mark’s side, handing him your drink.

“What’s this?” 

“I’m not drinking tonight. I don’t want to do anything stupid again, drink up.” He grinned at you.

“Well I guess this is payment enough.”

It was some time later that you found yourself laughing alongside Jaehyun when you realized that you hadn’t seen Mark it a while.

“I’m gonna go grab a water.” You excused yourself and set out to find him.

“You came.” You jumped at the sound of Yuta’s voice, uncomfortably close to you.

You spun around, facing him. 

“You brought your little boyfriend though.” He was obviously drunk, more so than the last time. Or perhaps you were just more aware and now you could notice his tendencies. 

“Right. Have you seen him?” You asked curtly, trying to focus on the task at hand. 

“So he is your boyfriend?” The alcohol had definitely left him no control over his emotions as you frowned at the crestfallen look on his face. 

“No, Yuta focus. Have you seen Mark?” 

“I don’t like him.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to enjoy teasing him. “Why not?”

“He’s too touchy with you.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only your boyfriend should touch you like that. You guys are like hugging and stuff.” He pouted at you, a new version of Yuta you had never imagined.

“You touched me.” You mumbled out, watching his reaction.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You stepped back, nervous for the first time. This version of Yuta made you uncomfortable. You were so used to the asshole that made snide comments and teased you. You knew it was just the alcohol talking but you felt restless upon seeing this new side of him. 

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your savior.

“Mark!” The boy spun around face bursting into a smile as he made his way over to you, slinging his arm over your shoulder. 

“Y/N where’ve you been? I lost you.” His smile faded as he noticed your company. “What are you doing here?”

His tone had turned cold and he pulled you tighter against him, an action not going unnoticed by Yuta.

“I’m having a conversation. And you’re not her boyfriend.” Mark glared at him, not appreciating the tone.

“Okay?”

You cut in between their little stare down, moving to face Mark, “Hey, I already wished Jae a happy birthday and stuff, it’s getting kinda late. We should get going now if you’re ready to go.” 

You motioned towards the door in case he could understand you.

He nodded, not really paying attention, something that you were expecting. 

“Alright, let’s go say bye to Jae and then I’ll drive us home, okay?” You talked slowly, hoping that he would understand more easily.

You grabbed Mark’s hand, pulling him towards the patio, the last place you had seen Jaehyun.

“Oh.” You stopped and turned to face the boy staring at two of your hands. “Bye Yuta.”

His eyes whipped up to find yours, a small smile taking over his features. He lifted his hands and waved slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

“What is wrong with him?” Mark muttered under his breath, face grimaced at the sight. 

You sighed, resuming your journey to Jaehyun. “He’s drunk.”

You slammed the passenger door shut and slid into the driver’s seat, once more checking that all of Mark’s limbs were attached and in the car. 

“That was fun.” He laughed, staring at nothing in particular. 

You snorted at his reaction. “So I don’t owe you anything anymore?”

“I never said that.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” You asked, taking a quick glance at him before regathering your attention on the road. 

“Yeah.”

You drove in silence for a while, and peeked over at him. He was so silent you were sure that he had fallen asleep. But his eyes were open, hooded, but definitely open. He was staring out the window, watching the buildings flash past him.

“Do you think Yuna wants to come?” 

You were startled by his sudden question.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Mark.”

“I know. But I kind of miss her.” He sounded so upset, and you began to get angry at Yuna. 

“I know Mark. Things will get better though. She’s just being stubborn.”

He sighed, fogging up the window for a few seconds before it dissipated under the cold.

“Okay.”

You hesitated to continue. 

“Hey Mark?”

He didn’t respond,

Your eyes found his sleeping figure slumped in the corner of the seat. 

You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

“How do you do it? Deal with her knowing that she’ll probably never love you back?” You asked no one in particular, listening to the silence that followed your harsh question.

You spent the last few miles of the ride with your mind involuntarily wandering back to Yuta. Now that you thought about it he had been acting weird since the day he invited you to the party. 

It wasn’t that you missed the nagging or teasing that he constantly made you endure. But it made you uneasy, reminding you why he starting doing so in the first place.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the road as you pulled into Mark’s designated spot. The car rocked to a standstill.

“It’s because I love her that I can do it.”

You turned to face the seemingly asleep boy, mentally cursing yourself for letting him hear your thoughts.

“Yuna, don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh on him?”

She had just spent the last twenty minutes purposely avoiding Mark, stating that it would absolutely ruin her day to see him.

“He called me a slut, are you really taking his side?” Her tone had turned fierce as you expected.

“He didn’t call you a slut. Besides if it’s something you’re ashamed of, then don’t do it.” You muttered the last bit, trying to soften the tone.

She whipped her head at you. “What? So now you think I’m a slut too?”

“No, it’s just if you’re so upset with the way that people think of you, then why do you keep giving them reason to think that way?”

It was harsh, but you had finally given up on stubborn Yuna. It was time to finally hammer it into her head.

She was at a loss for words when you looked back at her. “I shouldn’t have to care about what other people think of me.”

You bit your lip, frustrated with the way she was thinking.

“Then why are you so mad at Mark? If you don’t care what other people think of you, why are you so mad?”

“Because it’s Mark. Of course I care what he thinks.” 

You stared at her, mouth slightly open, confused with her statement. But it seemed like you weren’t the only one, her eyes widened, throwing her hand over her mouth.

“I mean, he shouldn’t have said that because he’s supposed to be someone I can count on to not think of me that way. I’m supposed to be able to trust that he knows me, and has my back no matter what, not that he’d stab me in the back like that.”

“He didn’t stab you in the back. And he does have your back, no matter what. You know he’s never said one bad thing about you during this time? He just keeps asking if you’re doing okay.”You paused, thinking about your next words, hesitating for a moment. 

”You know I think it’s kind of embarrassing how much you’re bad mouthing him and avoiding him when all he does as make sure that you’re doing fine.” You glanced at her as she turned away from you, trying to hide the fact that she was furrowing her eyebrows. 

“Don’t you think it’s been long enough? For both of you? Would it be that hard to forgive him?” You raised your eyebrows in hopes that you would no longer be the split messenger between the two.

There was a deep sigh from her side. 

“I’ll talk to him later, just the two of us. I guess I owe him that much.” You smiled at her flushed face.

She grinned back, wrapping her arm in yours, “Now tell me about the party last weekend.”

You jolted your head to the side, wide eyed. “H-how did you...?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. It’s not like I was invited. Besides it would’ve been weird right, for me to show up.” You smiled at her, thankful that she wasn’t upset.

“To be honest, it was fun. I missed hanging out with them.” She elbowed you in the side.

“Any one in particular you like hanging out with?” Wiggling her eyebrows, she sent a suggestive look your way.

You blushed, understanding her intentions. “No. They’re all fun.”

“Right. Did Yuta bother you much? I hope Mark didn’t leave you alone to be bugged by him.” She scrunched her nose, evidence that she was still annoyed by him.

“No. He didn’t bother me, he was pretty drunk.” You frowned, “He actually said something though that bugged me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, he just kept talking about me having a boyfriend.” You paused, eyes shaking at what you were about to say. “He asked if he could be my boyfriend.” 

Yuna made her scandalized face, teasing you as you cut in, attempting to save face for both yourself and Yuta.

“But he was really drunk, who knows if he even knew what he was saying.” You hurried out,  nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Didn’t you say he had been acting weird around you lately? Like not teasing you weird, but like he was actually kind of nice to you?” You nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he was actually the person who invited me to Jae’s party.” 

“Really?” She asked, squinting in confusion. “That’s strange, I thought he would’ve been the last person to invite you.”

“Right?” You thought to yourself for a moment, “He wouldn’t do something would he?”

“No, I think he’s just gotten bored. Maybe he’s finally tired of teasing you.” You laughed at the thought.

“Sure, I’d die of happiness if that were true.” But there was a small part of you that you chose to ignore, that felt a little sad at the thought.

“Do you want one?” You raised your eyebrow at the scene in front of you.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Yuta gave you a small smile. “Taeil baked them, they’re to die for.”

You frowned at the muffin he was showing you, but eventually took it.

He nodded his head once, indicating for you to try it.

As you bit into the soft texture of the muffin your eyes widened. 

“I know. I’m not usually one for muffins, but I’ll never pass on one from Master Moon.”

You giggled at the title.

“No really, that’s what he calls him self, but I’m not one to argue.” A genuine smile bloomed over his face, the first time you had seen it.

Unknowingly you returned the smile, something about it making you feel better already.

He rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile, replacing the previous, “I’m sorry we got off on a bad foot.” He let out a big sigh, “I kind of let things get out of hand.”

You felt yourself closing off again, but realized that his words were genuine.

“I’m not gonna lie, the stuff you said and things you did hurt me. This class was hell because of you, I even avoided seeing Jaehyun because of you.”

You let out a sigh, and a heavy silence followed. You glanced at the worried expression on Yuta’s face, and you recognized the guilt.

There had been some point where your anger towards Yuta had faded. Perhaps it was the fact that he stopped bothering you, perhaps it was his confession, or perhaps it was the way that he started to look at you. You believed that there was something more to Yuta, and you wanted to get to know that side.

“But if you continue to bring me amazing snacks I’ll have no choice but to forgive you.” You laughed nervously, tearing anxiously at the empty wrapper.

“Then I’ll just have to keep bugging Master Moon.” He grinned, a reflection of yourself.

You felt your face heat up, blushing at his blatant flirting.

“Um.... I know I was like really drunk the other night. I’m not going to pretend I don’t remember pieces, because I do. And I want you to know that even though I was drunk I really meant what I said.” He glanced at you from the side, not brave enough to confront you.

“What do you mean?” You tried not to think of the way that he basically confessed to you, and you chose to ignore it.

“Uh... Do you... not remember?” He scratched his head, ruffling his hair into a more messy look.

“I’m not sure, you were saying a lot of things.” Biting your lip, you focused on the wrapper in your hand.

“Oh... I- uh...I like you.” You whipped your head to face Yuta, who was now avoiding eye contact.

“What?” It came out as a whisper, barely audible to him. You heart began beating faster, and you were worried that he would be able to hear it because it was so loud.

“I like you Y/N. Look, I know I have a pretty shitty way of showing it, but I promise that I’ll make up for it.”

You hated to leave him hanging, but you had no words. You wanted to give him some sort of reassurance, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“Will you go out with me? Or at least one date to show you I’m not a total asshole.” He wasn’t great at hiding the fact that he was nervous, and you giggled at the sight.

“Yeah. I guess one date couldn’t hurt right?” You smiled at him, boldly reaching for his hand.

He wrapped his hand around yours, pulling you close to his chest. you could hear the beating of his heart through his shirt, making you smile at the thought that you were the cause of this.

“I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’m done making stupid decisions.”

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct imagine #nct drabbles #nct scenerios #nct yuta #nct nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta #yuta #nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct yuat smut #nct yuta fluff #nct yuta angst #yuta angst #yuta fluff #yuta smut #fool sun #nct taeil #nct johnny #nct taeyong #nct doyoung #nct jaehyun #nct jungwoo #nct mark #nct haechan

[kiribaku-queen]

Could we please have an insecure!reader x Bokuto! (Also Todoroki x reader but separately if that’s okay?) where she starts to slowly starts to compare herself to all the fangirls and the girls that confess to them? So she slowly starts to distance herself, then meets up with then to break up. But when she says she wants to break up the boys are like “do you not love me anymore, what happened” then she basically goes on a spiel about how much better he would be with one the fangirls and just straight up says she looks like the trash but of course she still loves him. So then the boys reassure her that she’s the only one he wants and that she is perfect and blah blah blah and it’s just a nice happy ending basically :)

It’s Always Been You

Pairing: Bokuto x reader

Angst, Fluff

Word count: 3.1K

A/N: I’M BACK! I’m starting to get back into the groove of things while juggling my work but hopefully, I’ll be able to start that new series soon! Let me tell yall, when I finished plotting out and detailing everything I want to happen in this series, it was 11 pages long.... like what?

Anyway, I love love loved this prompt. It actually made me feel sad inside. I hope it wasn’t too rushed. Also, I just wanted to do Bokuto since I have a lot on my plate, writing wise so i hope that is okay! Thank you to whoever sent this in and I hope you are satisfied with this! Happy reading! (if you want to know more about my next series, DM me! I really want to talk about it LOL)

“Kotarou-kun!” you bellowed your boyfriend’s name from the stands. You would always go to Bokuto’s volleyball practice whenever you could. You had your own club activities so you couldn’t always be there to cheer him on. But when you would, Bokuto would be jumping with joy, trying new moves just to impress you. You were already impressed with the achievements he made this past year, one being the top 5 spikers in all of Japan. But he somehow still thinks that there’s more wow factor in him for you. When Bokuto hears his name fall from your lips, he automatically whips his head and gives you the widest smile.

“(y/n)!” he sings your name, waving both hands in the air. Bokuto was so distracted by you that he didn’t see that ball coming straight for him. Luckily, it missed him but just a hair. But now his team was upset that they just lost a point thanks to him. Thank god this was just practice and not an actual game. You’d never live that one down. You could see Bokuto rubbing the back of his head, embarrassed, as his team continued to scold him to pay attention.

Spike after spike after spike after spike, you were amazing at how many times Bokuto could spike the ball down without getting tired. If that was you, you would surely break both your ankles. You leaned on the railing, admiring how hardworking and how much effort he put in his sport. You’ve never met anyone more dedicated than the man who was dominating the court by just standing there.

“This one’s for…” Bokuto starts as he jumps in the air with exceptional form. You smile fondly because you know what’s about to happen. “(Y/N)!!!” he dedicates his spike to you, yelling with his whole chest and smacks the ball on the other side of the court. With the widest smile and a big thumbs up, Bokuto faces you after his great feat. His teammates clearly embarrassed with his antics. It’s practice, for crying out loud. But Bokuto didn’t care what anyone else thought. He was going to shower you with love and affection to show everyone just who captured his heart.

You giggle to yourself. You loved this side of Bokuto. In the beginning of your relationship, you admit that it was embarrassing. He was just so extra with his affection that you didn’t know how to take it. But day by day, you learned to accept and love all the things he does for you. His smile, his laugh, his iconic ‘hey, hey, hey’ line, and even when he dedicates certain moves to you. But you weren’t the only one to admired him. No, his fangirls were also in love with that. Speaking of fangirls…

When practice was over, you made your way down the bleachers and over to your boyfriend, but when the team came into sight, Bokuto was already surrounded by a herd of fangirls.

“Bokuto-san, you were super cool today!”

“Can you show me how to play?”

“Are you thirsty? Here, I bought you some water!”

“Do you need a towel?”

“Can we feel your muscles?”

Bokuto looked uncomfortable, to say the least. You stayed behind the crowd of girls, giving him some space with his fans. He sees you immediately and gives you an apologetic look. You shake your head, insinuating that it was okay. Because it honestly was. You can’t be mad at him for having adoring fans. It was natural if he was going to play professionally. And this is nothing if he was to really play on a pro volleyball team. So you could take it. Bokuto continues to interact with the girls while to watch them, waiting until he’s ready to leave.

You could see him trying to make his way through the crowd to get to you, but surprisingly, his fans were pretty strong. They refused to let him leave, no matter how many times he said he had to go. But again, you were willing to be patient.

“Look, ladies. I’d love to stay and talk, but I have someone waiting on me,” Bokuto tried one more time and pointed in your direction. All their heads whipped around to you, not looking too happy. Their stares burned at you, scaring you a bit at how vicious they could look. With them distracted, Bokuto was able to slip out of their circle and by your side.

“Shall we go?” he looked down at you, love back in his eyes. You nod and Bokuto automatically wraps his hand around your shoulders, leading you out of the court.

As you pass by the group of girls who were still staring daggers at you, you heard their whispers. You weren’t sure if they were saying it on purpose or if it was because it was the truth, but they were speaking loud enough for you to overhear.

“What does he see in her?”

“Do you see her bare face? Does she not care that she looks homeless?”

“It’s because her face is bumpy, so if she wore makeup it would look cakey.”

“No, even if she did wear makeup, it would look so bad because she doesn’t know how to put it on.”

“God, she’s so boring!”

“Her hair isn’t even done.”

“It’s like she purposely trying be a loser.”

“And do you see how her rolls are spilling out of her shirt? Embarrassing!”

You tightened your grip on your skirt. Were they really talking about you? The entire time Bokuto was walking you home, you were looking down and thought about all those comments that they made. Mean as they were, maybe they were right? You didn’t wear any jewelry. It would only get in the way. You don’t do your hair, but you didn’t think it was that messy. You liked it the way it was. No, you don’t wear makeup. Not only do you not have time in the morning, but you only use it for special occasions. Fat? Maybe you were putting on a few pounds, but you and Bokuto like to eat. It’s his fault that you look bigger than normal. Is this what people think about you? Is this was people say behind your back? You looked down at your stomach and held it shyly. Thinking about those comments just made you upset. But did Bokuto think that way? You look up at him and he’s all happy like normal. He hasn’t said that you should change anything, but maybe that’s just him being polite. But that was going to change.

After dropping you off, you went straight to your room and dug up everything you could find: makeup, clothes, jewelry, accessories, curling iron, straightener. You put everything on your counter and got to work. You were going to look pretty for once.

First, you applied your makeup. Dramatic or subtle? What do most of the girls wear at school? After a quick search, subtle it is. You admit, you weren’t the best at makeup, but it’s not like you’ve never put it on before. You just needed a little practice and this was a good opportunity. After maybe 30 minutes of applying what you thought looked like good makeup skills, you moved onto the hair. You tried something that you normally never do. Up or down? Curly or straight? Extensions or nah? God, so many options. So again, you looked at what the other girls were doing. Looking back in the mirror, you smiled at yourself. Not too bad, if you do say so yourself! You were going to wake up early tomorrow and do exactly this. Bokuto was in for a big surprise.

A big surprise, he was. Bokuto waited outside your house like he did every day. You were running a little late but he didn’t mind waiting.

“Sorry I’m late. I was doing something real quick!” you announced and presented yourself in front of your boyfriend. As soon as Bokuto laid eyes on you, he felt his heart fly out of his chest and then back again because he had to be alive to see how stunning you looked. His mouth flew open but he couldn’t form any words. His eyes grew as wide as saucers and looked up and down. He didn’t want this picture of you out of his mind.

As shocked as Bokuto was, you didn’t take his reaction the right way. Did he not like it? Why wasn’t he saying anything? You know that your look might be different than normal, but he acts like you’re a totally different person. The longer that he stared at you, the more ridiculous you looked. But what were you going to do now? It was too late to change and you were going to be late to school.

“Let’s go!” you urged, hooking your arms together and pulled him along to walk with you. You acted like his reaction didn’t affect you, but inside you were disappointed.

As the day went on, you couldn’t help but feel subconscious about your new look. Your friends said that they loved the new you, but Bokuto’s opinion mattered the most to you. Because you knew that he would tell you the truth no matter what.

In between classes, you look either go to the bathroom or look at your phone, wherever there was a mirror so that you could look at yourself. Your make up started melting and fading away, your hair wasn’t as kept like this morning. Slowly, your new look made you look like a clown. And the more you looked, the more you started to see your flaws. Now you could understand what those girls were saying. Fuck.

Tears welled in your eyes that you rubbed away the tears. But in the process of doing that, you wiped off the makeup that you forgot you had on, the makeup that took you so long to do. It all smeared across your eyes and that made you cry even more. Now you were forced to take your makeup off. You turned on the tap and rubbed all the foundation, the eye shadow, the blush, and the lipstick away. There, your ugly bare face was back.

Since you were doing that, might as well fix your hair. Pulling your hair all the way back, you put it into a bun. You stared at yourself in the mirror again. Homeless. Ugly. Bare faced. Fat. You could see it all. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and you began to cry uncontrollably. God, you felt so embarrassed with yourself.

Bokuto immediately saw the difference in appearance when he saw you at the end of the day. Your shoulders were slouched over, your head was hung low, not to mention that your new look disappeared.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bokuto said softly. “What happened to your new look?”

“Oh,” you jolted up. His concerned gaze made you feel uncomfortable and even more insecure about your looks. “It was bothering me, so I took it off.” You lied. And it was a good lie because he believed it without a second thought.

“If it bothers you, maybe you shouldn’t wear it to school,” Bokuto suggested. Oh, so he’s basically saying that you shouldn’t dress like that because he’s embarrassed by you. Your confidence levels just reached a new low.

“Yeah, I probably won’t,” you say discouraged and quickly walk away from him. Bokuto didn’t know what to say. Why did you look so sad?

The next day, you transitioned back into your normal outfit. You felt more comfortable but your body and the way you looked to other people was always in the back of your mind. You became so distracted by the idea that you began to distance yourself from the volleyball player.

You went to his practices but didn’t make yourself known anymore. Little by little each day, you let the fangirls take over. So he’ll spend most of his time with them instead of you. It was probably better like that anyway. The more you looked at them from afar, the more you could see the difference between you guys. You were just an ordinary student with an ordinary life with ordinary looks. There really wasn’t anything special about you. There wasn’t anything about you that stood out. Compared to these girls that were flocking all around your boyfriend? Beautiful girls. Their looks were out of this world. You could never compare to them. So why was Bokuto with you when he could have anyone he wanted? He was popular, athletic, goofy, strong. Every girl’s dream guy. It doesn’t make sense that you, a plain girl, was his girlfriend. A match that probably wasn’t meant to be.

Bokuto noticed that you were being distant. Eventually, you stopped going to his practices. Every day, he would look for you in the stands but you were never there. Whenever he has free time and wanted to spend it with you, you were also too busy or had some place to be. He never saw you anymore. You didn’t even want to walk to and from school together. He couldn’t fathom what he did wrong. He thought he treated you well. He thought that he did his best to show you that you mean so much to him. So what was going on?

Bokuto stopped by your house one day after practice because does not like how you were avoiding him. He was going to figure out what was wrong whether you continue to avoid him or not.

“Oh, is (y/n) home?” Bokuto asked your mother who opened the door instead of you. Strange, were you not home yet?

“Oh, Kotarou. No, she isn’t home yet. Would you like to wait inside? She should be home any minute now,” your mother informed, opening the door a little wider to let him in. He gladly accepted and stepped into your welcoming home. Your mother let Bokuto make himself at home and that is just what he did. He went to your room and waited for you there.

When you arrived home, you greeted your mother with a kiss on her cheek and headed for your room when your mom stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh, your boyfriend is waiting for you upstairs, dear,” your mother said. You completely froze. Your heart started to race and cold sweat ran down your back. Shit. What was he doing here? After all this time, you thought you were doing well by keeping your distance but now he shows up out of nowhere, catching you off guard. Reluctantly, you opened the door to your bedroom and sure enough, Bokuto was standing there not looking too happy.

“Kotarou,” you say but didn’t have a clue what to say after. What could you say?

“(y/n),” Bokuto sighs and walks to you. But you backup, making Bokuto frustrated. “What is going on with you? First, you don’t come to my practices. Then, you stop talking to me. You don’t even want to walk with me to school anymore. Did I do something wrong? Because if I did, just tell me so I can fix it.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you admit, but now Bokuto was confused.

“If I didn’t do anything, then why are you acting like towards me? Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Did I say something that hurt your feelings?”

“No.” Question after question, you kept saying no. Everything that he thought he did, you answered no. You weren’t giving him any information to help him understand what was going on. All you did was stand by the door, head down and you fiddled with your fingers. Bokuto was beyond frustrated. He put his hands on his waist and let out a deep sigh.

You couldn’t see him but you could definitely hear him and feel the ambiance in the room. He was upset at you. He had every right to. But now his reaction made you feel even worse about yourself that you just wanted to cuddle up in bed and literally just forget about everything. Maybe today was the today.

“If you’re so frustrated, why don’t you just break up with me?” you opened your mouth to say. Silence.

All of Bokuto’s anger and frustration dissipated and was replaced with hurt and betrayal. The moment those words left your mouth, his stomach dropped and the pain in his heart hit him so deep that he had to take a step back.

“Baby, why are you saying that?” his voice softens in the most pained toned you’ve ever heard. Guilt starts to eat at you for saying that, but cat’s out of the bag now. You don’t answer him and continue to stare down at your feet. He gets closer and you allow him to take your hands in his.

“I’m just trying to understand. Why are avoiding me? Why are you saying that we should break up?” he asks, trying to look you in the eyes. You shrug your shoulders but don’t say anything. But that’s okay because Bokuto was going to give you all the time in the world that you need to answer back. And it took you a long while before you should say anything.

“It’s because… I think you can find someone better,” you mumble in a whisper.

“Why do you think that?” Bokuto matches your tone. You shrug again.

“I don’t know. I see all those girls around you. And they’re all so pretty and thin. I’m nothing compared to them. And then I started thinking, and… you’re way out of my league. You could do so much better if you were with someone like-”

“Do you love me?” Bokuto cuts you off.

“Yeah,” you answer anyway. “But I don’t think we look good as a couple.”

“I don’t care what other people think. I love you and only you. I picked you. Every practice, every game, I’m looking for you. Whenever I see you, my day brightens up. When I see you, I feel like I can play my best. You are my strength and my motivation. You are the only one that sticks out in a crowd full of people. You’re perfect and don’t let those other people tell you otherwise.” Bokuto lifts your chin up so that you could tell that he meant every word. Your lower lip forms a pout and silent tears streaked your cheeks. His face softens at you. Gosh, even when you’re crying and snot is coming out of your nose, you’re still so cute to him.

“You really mean it?” you cry.

“Yes, you cry baby. Now come here,” he scoops you up and lays you on the bed to cuddle. “So don’t you ever say that to me again, or I’ll quit volleyball.” He threatens. Upon hearing that, you freak out and convince that he shouldn’t. He’s laughing out loud and kisses you all over.

“Ah, I love you too much,” he says content and you cuddle for the rest of the evening.

#bokuto imagine #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotartou #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #bokuto fluff #bokuto angst #haikyuu

[fangirlshrieks]

Spring Break part 1

a/n: This is my first official post on here and I don't know how it will turn out. Tik Tok really made me obsessed with Harry Potter 😭.  Now I am a simp for Neville. I got a soft spot for quiet, nerdy, shy, and subby boys. I don't usually write fanfiction because my ideas are usually super long and I have no time to write them out but I decided to write this one. I will also be posting this on my wattpad account. I read @omg-imatotalmess sub!Neville fic back in December and I've been obsessed with the idea of Neville being a sub. *internally screaming* 

Part 1, Part 2, part 3

Word count: 2,519

Pairings: Neville Longbottom x female reader

Warnings: Mensions of sex, Innuendoes, mentions of plant boy's insecurities

The sunlight intruded through your dorm room windows. It shined at just the right angle so the light hit your eyes, abruptly waking you up. In annoyance your turn onto your stomach and bury your head under your pillow desperate for just a few more minutes of sleep but the memory of it being the last day of school before spring break entered your mind. You peaked from under your pillow to check the time. It was around 7:05. You huffed. It was too early to get up. Unable to go back to sleep with the light in your eyes you reluctantly got up out of bed and got ready for the day. You could hear the deep snores of your dorm mates sleeping quietly as you got ready. It was times like these where you enjoyed getting up earlier than everyone else. There was always a sort of peace before the hustle and bustle of everyone rushing to the bathrooms to find a mirror or use the sinks. You made sure to be as quiet as possible. Having gotten ready you decide to head to the great hall for breakfast. 

Sitting down at the Y/H table you grabbed a toast and some butter and jam. There were a few students around but not enough to fill the hall with loud noise. None of your friends were up yet, that's for sure, so you scanned the room to see if your boyfriend, Neville Longbottom, was there.

'Who am I kidding he's probably still asleep too' you thought.

But just as you turned to eat your food, Neville had entered the great hall. He spotted you and quickly walked over to where you were sitting. 

"Hello love" he gave you a quick peck on the top of your head before sitting down next to you. 

"What are you doing here so early?" His tone is full of amusement, knowing you aren't normally one of the first students to enter the great hall in the morning. 

"I could ask you the same thing" you said, giving him a teasing look. 

"Well I couldn't really sleep last night. Too excited for holiday, I guess." He responded with a bit of nervousness in his voice. You didn't seem to notice however.

"Well I was rudely interrupted from a wonderful sleep by a disgusting thing called sunrise." The sarcasm in your voice made the two of you laugh slightly.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to sleep in."

"It's fine. That just means I get to spend more time with you today." You said nudging him with your shoulder. "By the way did you ever tell your gran that I would be visiting the two of you at the lake house."

Neville's grandmother was invited by an old friend to stay with her at her lake house. The lake house was relatively close to where you lived in London but it was obviously in the wizarding world. You had asked Neville about two weeks ago if you could visit him and his grandmother while they were there. You had never been to a lake house before and you wanted to spend your first Holiday with him as his girlfriend since you two had got together.

You had only been going out since December but you had been friends since 1st year. When his grandmother heard the news about the two of you finally becoming an official couple she was ecstatic. She always believed there was something more between the two of you. Even when you were in your previous relationship with a boy from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic your fourth year, there was always something there but neither of you believed that other could ever like you in that way. But after you broke up with your ex at the end of your fourth year, the tension between you and Neville was undeniable. It was not until the start of 6th year after Neville had an encounter with Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic and it was revealed that Voldemort had returned that you and Neville had actually acted on your feelings. Now here you are actually together.

You had visited him and his grandmother before during other school breaks but only every as a friend. This time would be different. Your mind sometimes wondered about taking your relationship to the next level but you only ever mention that once before and Neville seemed nervous the entire time so you dropped the subject. You assumed it was because he was a virgin and unfortunately to your dismay it was a well known fact that you had lost your virginity to your ex who had bragged about it when you were a couple (but that is a story for a later time).

"Oh yeah." He seemed anxious and grabbed a toast to shove in his mouth to try and drown the worry in his voice, but it didn't help. "Gran said you are welcome anytime."

"Perfect." 

More students started filling the hall as you finished your breakfast. Dean and Seamus had also entered the hall and made their way towards the two of you. 

"Hey guys." Neville greeted them.

"What are you two love birds talking about?" Dean said while leaning over your shoulder.

"Just making plans." You said nonchalantly as you turned your head towards him.

"Plans for Holiday I assume?" Seamus piped in with a raised eyebrow. From behind your back, Neville gave him a look almost as if he was pleading with him not to make any inappropriate jokes. 

"Yes, actually" you answered.

Seamus pushed on, "Care to elaborate?" 

"I'm sorry, but I actually have to pack, which I would advise you three to do the same." You turned back to Neville. "I'll meet you at the Entrance Hall so we can head towards the Express together, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan." And with that Neville watched you headed towards your dorm to pack.

He was thankful you left before Deam or Seamus could mention anything about what had happened last night. The three of them all walked over to the Gryffindor table to eat.

"So you and y/n are you and going to be sharing the same room?" Seamus asked.

Neville choked on his juice he was drinking and coughed a few times before finally recovering.

"Relax mate, it's natural to be nervous your first time." Dean added.

"I already told you too, me and y/n are not doing anything during break. She's just visiting me and gran for a day." Neville had a slight red hue over his cheeks.

"Alright, alright " Dean said amusingly.

"But just so you know spring break is when couples usually…" Seamus didn't get to finish.

"I get it, Seamus! Do you have to be so loud?" Neville cut him off. "I think I'm going to go pack now, see you guys later."

"Just remember to pack the rubbers Seamus gave you." Dean laughed under his breath.

Of course how could Neville forget the rubbers.

------ The night before in the boys dormitories ------

"Yeah, it's going to be great. Y/N is joining me and gran for a day at the lake house. It will be nice to not be the only person my age there. Plus I can show Y/N all the cool plants around the lake." Neville was beaming talking about his plans for Holiday with you and his grandmother. His smile was radiant and by the expression on his face you could totally tell he was smitten by you.

"Wait let me get this straight. Y/N is going to be staying at your grandmother's lake house with you." Dean was trying to make sense of the situation.

"Technically it's my gran's friend's lake house."

"That doesn't matter." Seamus said bluntly. "The fact is you and Y/N are going to be at a lake house together during spring break."

"What are you going on about?" Neville was completely dumbfounded about what was wrong with the situation.

"Seamus, will you just tell him." 

"I got a better idea." Seamus walked over to his dresser and opened a drawer. He searched inside for a small box. Once he found it, he grabbed it, and threw it towards Neville. When it landed on his bed, Neville grabbed the box and read what it was. He saw the figure on the box was a warrior and the name 'Trojan' written at the very top. His eyes widened and he immediately fumbled the box before he dropped it. He could feel his cheeks warm up as Dean and Seamus laughed at his reaction.

"Wh.. Where did you get those?" Neville distanced himself from the condoms.

"It doesn't matter." Seamus said, still laughing.

"Are you serious? I can't take those with me." Neville was embarrassed for having never even thought that something like that would happen while on Holiday with you. "Wait, this trip isn't even about that. Me and Y/N haven't even done anything yet. I haven't even done anything yet!" Seamus insinuation had clearly caused Neville to freak out and rethink his entire plan of having you visit him during break.

"Chill out mate." Dean was trying not to laugh but it wasn't really helping.

"Mate we know it’s your first time, we just thought you could use some pointers." Seamus suggested.

"I really don't think that's necessary. We're not going to…" this time Neville was cut off by Seamus.

"Listen, when you put the condom on make sure you pinch the top so there is a bit of room there and then roll it down. If you don't it just might break and we don't want that happening do we."

"Also don't forget to use a new one every time. Apparently they are not reusable." Dean chimed in. 

Neville was in shock and the color of his face matched the color of his house's signature color. 

"Please stop." He was pulling at his hair in agony.

"We're just trying to help a friend out." Seamus said smugly.

"This isn't helping. This is making it worse." Neville shoved his head in his pillow from embarrassment. 

The other boys continue to laugh. Neville, extremely embarrassed by his friend's insinuation, tried to come up with a reason to leave his dorm and got up and grabbed the closet textbook near him.

"Uhh... I forgot I need to catch up on my studies" and with that he rushed to the Gryffindor common room. 

At this time at night the common room was empty. Only the fireplace lit the room with a warm glow. He sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and ran his fingers through his hair to ease his nerves.

"How could I be so stupid?" He asked himself aloud. 

The signs had been there all along. He just hadn't put all the pieces together until now. You had originally asked him if you could spend the night at the lake house but he didn't understand why at the time because you lived close by. Then there was the conversation the two of you had a couple of weeks ago. You had asked Neville how he had felt about moving your relationship on a more intimate level and he had completely freaked out by the sudden suggestion. He had certainly thought about you in that way occasionally (even before the two of you were officially together) but he never imagined it to ever come to fruition. Then when the two of you had finally gotten together, he felt inadequate in that particular area because he had never been with anyone romantically. He was relieved when you dropped the subject but knew it would be a topic to come back again. 

He also noticed how touchy you had become lately in private. You two were definitely not a pda couple but preferred to show your love to one another in private. Neville thought back to the time last week when it was just the two of you sitting by the lake while he read you a chapter in his herbology book. The two of you had sat right under a tree and you had sat next to him leaning your head on his shoulder and placed your hand on his thigh. 

As he read to you, your hand slowly made its way higher and higher towards the area between his legs. At first he was completely oblivious to your actions until he had set his book aside from in front of him and noticed how close your hand was to his crotch. It had made him freeze and he felt his face heat up. You had looked up at him and leaned in to give him a kiss which eventually turned into a heated make out session. Neville couldn't recall how you ended up on top of him or how your hands had slipped under his shirt but they did. He untimely stopped the moment when his crotch was becoming increasingly annoying as you rested your weight on him. He sensed that you had felt a little disappointed despite your reassuring words. 

Neville rubbed the back of his head in frustration as he recalled the memory. He didn't want to stop but his insecurities got the best of him. He remembered how self conscious he felt when you started to rub up and down on his chest and stomach. Neville knew he did not have the most muscular built nor was he very slim. He often wondered what you even saw in him. 

He hated when he started to overthink. He quickly shut out those thoughts and ended up thinking about you and your smile. How he loved your smile and how bright you beamed every time you looked at him like he was the greatest person in the world. 

"That has to count for something right?" He whispered to himself. 

'Wait what if she does want to have sex this week?' He pondered on the possibility. 

His mind wondered about the idea of losing his virginity to you and smiled to himself as another thought entered his mind. 

You were riding him like your life depended on it. It was really a sight for sore eyes and he found himself more open to the idea. Then his eyes went wide with the sudden realization that he doesn't really know anything about the female anatomy. He didn't really know where his penis was supposed to enter or where the clit was. At this point he had wished there was some sort of sex education at Hogwarts.

His nerves seemed to oscillate from high to low with his constant thinking.

"This is going to be a long break." He said to himself rubbing his temples.

That night he kept twisting and turning in bed and couldn't get much sleep. He ended up sleeping for only 4 hours and was woken up by the sunshine entering the windows. He reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day. 

Heading out of Gryffindor tower he left towards the great hall for breakfast. 

a/n: Hoped you like it. 😊

#neville x y/n #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader smut #neville x reader smut #neville longbottom fanfiction #harry potter #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom smut #smut #neville imagine #neville fluff #neville x oc #neville #neville smut #harry potter smut #first post #new writter #new writers on tumblr #first story

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 5

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 6.8k

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 4 || Part 6 || masterlist

“Your lips aren’t disgusting,” Tsukishima says quietly, but loud enough to reach your ears. You did hear him the first time though. You just didn’t understand what he meant so you brushed it off as garbled words induced by your sleep-deprived brain. 

You didn’t expect him to contradict the subtle insult you unconsciously threw at yourself. From his reaction to your suggestion a while ago, you’d think he’d be glad that you instantly discarded it instead of pushing it further. 

You pull back just enough to see his somber expression meeting your baffled one.

“I thought you didn’t want to do it again,” you mutter softly even though the kiss snapped you out of your drowsiness.

“I changed my mind,” he simply says.  

“Uhhh. Care to elaborate?” you ask, still confused as to what his change of mind entails. Does he now agree to your earlier proposal? Or is he just saying that he doesn’t mind kissing you again? 

...Wait, isn’t that the same?

Okay, so apparently your mind is still fuzzy and not digesting the situation clearly. His closeness isn’t helping either. 

Maybe you’re actually still asleep and you’re having sleep paralysis on their sofa. In just a matter of seconds, Tsukishima’s face will turn demon-like and scream at how moronic you are for dreaming about this.

“You’re allowed to kiss me when it’s just the two of us,” the boy sitting in front of you announces.

Tsukishima tries not to look away so you wouldn’t think he feels awkward agreeing to your suggestion the same way you offered it. You look way better and more alert after he kissed you so he’s expecting you to say something sassy to get back at his brutal words. 

Instead, you wrap a hand around your throat. Before he can even process what you’re doing, your hand is already joined by the other. 

“What are you doing?” he asks both confused and worried as your hands tighten on your neck, but you don’t answer. He only confirms that you’re indeed choking yourself when you start gasping for air. 

“What the fuck!” He hurriedly yanks your hands away from your throat, gripping each wrist and pulling them away from one another. 

You inhale sharply from the absence of your hands blocking your windpipe.

It didn’t work. You’re still in sleep paralysis and with absolutely no idea how to get out.

You close your eyes and dejectedly lean on his chest. “I’m too tired to tell if this is real or a poorly conjured dream. Demon, begone,” you mumble while feebly knocking your head against him.

“Tsukishima will think I’m an idiot,” you add.

He usually doesn’t care about the aftermath of his words. The more they get under a person’s skin, the more it amuses him. But you seem to have really taken his words to heart this time, and he hates the fact that he’s bothered by it. He’d rather be annoyed by you than plagued with guilt.

He admits he was being a complete dick earlier, but he didn’t expect it would get to you like this, to the point that you’d even think you’re dreaming.

He sighs, accepting that he needs to deal with the consequences of his sharp tongue. “You’re not an idiot, y/n,” he softly says. You lift your gaze and look at him like he’s grown two heads. “So stop acting like one already,” he spurs on, unable to help himself as his true nature immediately returns.

You detach yourself from him as life returns back to your eyes. “Okay, I’m not dreaming. You’re definitely Tsukishima.” You shake your hands, probably to shake off the lethargy from your nap, then slap both your cheeks with your palms. 

You steady yourself as you face him again. You verify the vague exchanges you two had with one question. “I take it we have a deal then?” 

He holds your resolute stare, trying to come up with some set of rules but weariness is already hitting his cognitive capabilities. However, there is one that’s extremely necessary for the both of you to follow. 

“No one should know about this.”

You scoff at his answer. “No one  will  know about this,” you repeat his words with a more convincing variation. So despite the insane premise of the arrangement and its lack of detail, he agrees.

“Deal.”

--

Tsukishima heads straight to the kitchen as soon as he gets home. In spite of the audacious agreement you now have, neither of you felt awkward when he walked you to the main road to see you off. Once again, you were right. Accepting that he is also attracted to you somehow cleared his head. He still doesn’t like it, but it’s better than constantly being irritated at the strange pull you have on him. 

Since you’ve proven yourself to always be right, he’ll give this a go. It’ll only be until the end of the project anyways, which won’t be long from now considering the timetable you laid out. 

As he gets a pitcher of water, he sees Akiteru approaching the kitchen as well. He moves away from the fridge to make way in case his brother is going to get something from it. But Akiteru passes him by and leans on the counter next to him instead. 

He pours himself a glass while growing prickly of Akiteru’s not-so-subtle staring.

“If you’re going to say something, just say it,” he snaps. 

Akiteru laughs lightly at his displeasure. “She’s very lovely,” his older brother comments randomly, and yet he already knows Akiteru is without a doubt talking about you. 

Lovely?

His mind instantly goes back to when you were: (a) dancing like a crippled fledgling; (b) squawking like a dying seagull to imitate a crocodile; and (c) choking yourself because you thought you were dreaming. 

“If an alien in a human suit is lovely, then sure,” he answers dryly as he returns the pitcher back to the fridge.

“She’s really just a classmate?” his older brother probes. 

Akiteru has been insinuating for a while now that he should get a girlfriend, as if not having one will cause him to miss out on this ‘great’ experience of life. So now that he’s finally brought someone home, Akiteru had decided in his head that you’re a potential romantic partner. 

“How many times do I need to answer that?” he responds sourly. 

His brother smiles apologetically, but his face shows a regaled glimmer. “Sorry, Kei. I must have misunderstood since I don’t kiss my classmates on the lips.”

He stills right as he was about to bring the glass to his lips. 

He did not hear Akiteru’s steps back then. If he did, he’d quickly give himself adequate distance from you. He’d blame you for the distraction, but you weren’t really doing anything outrageous at that moment. You were actually unobtrusive and reasonable for the first time. It was him and his guilt that preoccupied him well enough to not notice Akiteru.

He finishes his water and leaves the glass on the counter. “Goodnight,” he says without looking at Akiteru as he hurriedly goes back to his room. 

It hasn’t been an hour since you two made the deal but someone -- worse, his own brother, has already found out. His only consolation is that Akiteru doesn’t really talk with his social circle so there’s no need to be worried. Also, Akiteru is not really the type to babble about stuff like that. 

The disadvantage is also the same as its advantage, it’s Akiteru. He might get all excited and continue assuming that there’s more to the two of you than this limited agreement, when the truth is you’re just two individuals who agreed to make out in secret.

But that’s something he wouldn’t dare reveal to anyone, most especially to Akiteru.

When he reaches his room, he immediately texts you. 

‘We meet in your place next time.’

Hopefully, Akiteru will forget whatever he saw tonight if you don’t come back. 

--

Surprisingly but not really, you and Tsukishima are getting along swimmingly since you made the deal. ‘Swimmingly,’ meaning he still ignores you and regards you as a pest during practice. During your private meetings, however, he is agreeable. 

It still seems unbelievable to you when you actually think about it. You and Tsukishima exchanging kisses when no one’s around? You’d have a good laugh if someone even suggested that idea to you before you shared that first, completely unintended kiss.

It is indeed comical, how you two would sit across each other, and with only a certain glance, both of you already know what’s up. Eventually, it became a bother to stand and go over to one another just for a kiss so you two sit side by side now.

Tsukishima is funny though. Sometimes, he wouldn’t act upon it because he expects you to take the initiative. You don’t mind doing it, but it’s fun to see him all bothered while trying to study. 

“Tsukishima, you look weird. Are you okay?” You feigned concern even though you clearly know why. 

He didn’t spare you a glance at all and just mumbled, “I’m fine,” while typing.

“Hmmm, alright! I’m done so we can wrap up now,” you let him know as you started fixing your stuff up. You thought that he’d hold on to his dumb ego and follow suit since you’ve finished cleaning up, but he still hadn’t done anything. 

You held back a smile when you felt him grab your arm. You swiftly composed yourself before turning to his direction. 

“What?” you ask like you don’t have a clue.

He glowers at you. “You know what.”

You pursed your lips to the side as you gently shake your head. “I am very confused right now,” you acted persuasively.

He puffed tempestuously before he grabbed your nape and roughly descended down on your lips, utterly disregarding his unnecessary pride. You willingly reciprocate it. You latched your fingers in his wrist beside your cheek as you responded to each suck and nip of his lips.

When it ended, you smiled into his mouth which effectively gave you away. 

He harshly pulled himself away from you. “You fucking knew,” he muttered furiously.

You scrunched up your nose and grinned mischievously as you gently tapped his cheek. “Of course, I knew. See you tomorrow at the match, Tsukishima,” you said, gesturing to his scattered belongings.

Needless to say, he was extra salty with you during the match with the Lions. But hey, at least they won the game. 

However, despite the Lions now out of the picture, your workload isn’t any better because winning only means needing to prepare the next opponent’s profile. You’re just a bit thankful now that unwarranted and unexpected kisses are no longer bothering you since the two of  you acknowledged the stupid attraction you have for each other.

Still, that doesn’t mean that your body has magically recovered and you’re no longer stressed all of a sudden. Because you are. You are stressed as fuck. With your academic load also on the line, you can’t rest yet.

You’re starting to feel overwhelmed and whenever that happens, you succumb to your one coping mechanism: stress eating. 

You’re about to meet Tsukishima but you have a few minutes to spare, so you head to the nearest cake shop. You buy a mini cake for yourself and one slice for Tsukishima. You don’t feel like sharing yours so you just get him his own. 

With a paper bag in hand, you see Tsukishima waiting for you by your dormitory’s entrance. You waste no time and ask him to follow you even though he probably already knows where exactly your room is. 

One would think that when the door closes, you two would jump on each other’s arms and just get on with your deal, but nah.

You two get to your usual seats with your mind solely on the cake you bought as both of you take out your notes and laptop. 

After you pull up the journal you need to look at for the day, you eagerly bring out the cake.

‘Hnnnngg,’  you groan internally. The cake’s design is so pretty that you almost don’t wanna eat it. But of course you will. You’ve never had strawberry shortcake from that shop before, so you’re curious to taste if it’s as good as it looks. 

Just as you’ve been ogling at your cake, you catch Tsukishima staring at it as well. “Do you want some, Tsukki?” you ask before you give the slice you got for him. 

“Why would I want something childish?” he asks back with a scowl. 

“I don’t see how a cake is childish but okay.” You would’ve felt bad, but you’ll have the extra slice for yourself anyways so it’s not really that bad.

Normally, you would like to savor the pastry while doing something fun, but you don’t have the time for it right now. You’ll just eat it while doing your assigned stuff for the day. 

For someone who thinks cake is childish, he keeps glancing at you with tiny hints of envy every time you take a bite. When he sees you catch him peering at the cake, he instantly flicks his eyes back to his laptop.

To verify your hunch, you moan exaggeratedly the next time you take a spoonful of the cake, instantly earning you a menacing glare from the blonde across you. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just so good, you know. The bread is so fluffy. The cream is not too sweet. The strawberry filling has actual bits of strawberry.” You enact a chef’s kiss after your detailed remarks. 

“Amazing. Best I’ve ever had. 10/10 would recommend and buy again,” you give a positive review before getting another slice.

When you get another spoonful, you groan again and roll your eyes for added effect. You look at Tsukishima and you can tell that it’s getting to him. Yet, he’s still not saying anything. He only keeps staring as if silently imploring you that you should let him have a taste as well. 

As if you’ll bend to his will just like that. 

“If you want some, just say so,” you taunt him with a smirk as you scoop the last spoonful in the plate, giving him not much time to swallow his pride and ask. 

Before you can put it in your mouth, he stops you. “Fine,” he says as he grits his teeth. “I want some.” 

Tsukishima really is funny. It’s only cake but he sounds so angry and embarrassed just because he asked for a tiny piece. How can you not tease him just a bit more?

You take the remaining piece and move beside him. You get the spoonful of cake, extending your arm and offering it to him that way. 

He looks at the cake and then you. “I know how to eat,” he enunciates coldly at your attempt to spoon feed him. 

You shrug it off with an ‘okay,’ then proceed to withdraw your hand so you can have it for yourself. 

“Wait.”

You comply and let your retreating arm stay in place. A faint pink tint surfaces on his cheeks as he leans down and takes the cake from the spoon with his mouth. When he starts munching on it, he looks away and slump a little while savoring the small remains you gave him.

You press your lips together to repress a smile cause you know he’ll be even more embarrassed. But holy crap, Tsukishima is so cute like this! You want to take a picture of him right now and just ogle at how adorable he is when he’s this flustered. 

The Sendai Frog’s nastiest middle blocker, standing at 6’3, likes strawberry shortcake. You’re reeling internally at your astounding discovery. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he snarls with the tiny blush still on his face.

You can’t help it anymore and give him a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing,” you squeak out from how hard you’re trying not to gush at his cuteness.

He suddenly regains his composure as he narrows his eyes while studying your face. 

It’s your turn to be conscious from how he seems to have discovered something about you as well. 

“What?” you ask warily.

You’re completely caught off guard when he puts a hand on your shoulder and lunges down. His lips capture the skin just beside the corner of your mouth, delicately sucking on the skin before brushing his warm tongue against it. 

You go rigid on your seat at the totally unexpected action from him. It’s not even a kiss but you feel goosebumps prickling your skin while the air you’re breathing gets stuck in your throat. 

That’s all he does then hoists himself back up, his features devoid of any emotion as if he didn’t just do something bold. His hand on your shoulder goes up to spot he just licked and strokes it with his thumb. 

“You eat like a ten-year old,” he says blankly. 

Just like that, the situation is reversed. He now has the upperhand while you’re completely frozen as your mind helplessly tries to come up with something, anything, to hide the fact that you’re a complete muddled mess on the inside.

But nothing. Your mind does not work and all its attention is still on the little stunt Tsukishima pulled just now. 

Being the manager of the Frogs, you’ve always seen them as cute little puppies you need to take care of. You’re the one in charge of them so you always feel like you’re the one in control. The sense of control is even more reinforced with other male athletes getting swept away with your antics during matches. 

Even with the several kisses you shared with Tsukishima, it’s only now that you’re rendered utterly disconcerted. Your lips start to tremble while your brows contort with horror from the foreign feeling that’s creeping on your whole body.

Fuuuucck, you curse silently at your mind’s incapability to come up with a solution to handle the situation. 

To make it worse, the corner of his lips start to tug up, forming a smug grin that suits him ludicrously well. 

“You okay, y/n?” His pompous demeanor lets you know that the question is not out of concern. He is very much aware of the effect he has on you. He’s just milking it.

And it’s fucking working.

He drags his thumb to your chin and tilts it up to get a better view of your features growing even more at loss by the second. “What’s wrong, hmm?”

You press your quivering lips together as you harshly avert your gaze from his. “Nothing,” you say too softly, losing the playfulness you had not long ago.

“What’s that?” He pretends to not hear it. 

Seems like you’ve had enough because you swat his hand away from your chin and cover your whole face with both hands. 

His grin spreads wide from your surrender as a chuckle escapes his throat. To entertain himself even more, he pries your hands away from your face. It’s easier than he expected since your wrists are like twigs with no strength in them.

Your face is a furious shade of rose as you glare at him with both shame and anger. You try to retrieve your arms but he’s obviously way stronger than you. “Tsukishima, you smooth li’l shit, let go of me!”

With that, he releases you as he cackles from your remark. He can now see the merits of acknowledging the inexplicable magnetism between him and you. Now that he doesn’t have to feel conflicted about it, he can relish breaking your previously impervious defenses by teasing you this way. 

There wasn’t even any cake on your face. He just made it up to get back at you for toying with him like one of your dumb admirers. 

You give off one enraged puff then you go back to face your laptop.  You try to look fine but you’re trying too hard. He can tell that you’re still bothered by it even when you’re focused on your screen now. 

He gets back to his own as well, the same grin he had earlier still there. He thought you’re going to keep ignoring him for the rest of your meeting, but before he can even focus on his own task, you awkwardly slide him the paper bag you had. 

“I actually got you a slice in case you wanted one,” you huff timidly while meeting his surprised gaze. You don’t say anything else and get back to working. 

That was�� thoughtful of you. You got him one even if he didn’t ask for it. And despite teasing you like that, you still gave it to him. If it was him, he wouldn’t have bothered.

He gets the cake and saves it for later at home. He’d like to enjoy it alone away from your cheekiness, ridding you the chance to make fun of him the second time.

When he looks at you again, you give him a brief glance before settling in to do your assignment. He does the same since you two have frolicked enough for the day. 

He had learned something about you from your former meetings:  you have unbreakable focus when you start concentrating on something. You don’t talk. You don’t fiddle with your phone. You don’t even peel your eyes away from the screen unless you’re checking something on your notes.  

The remarkable thing is how efficient you are. You work fast and come up with decent output. He’s seen it both in your write up for the project and in the reports you give to the team.

It’s almost impressive, if not for its inevitable downside: you run out of steam just as fast, which is what seems to be happening right now. He’s ignored the first two yawns he’s heard from you, but he can’t dismiss the third consecutive yawn. 

He looks at your direction and confirms that you’re indeed starting to drop your attentiveness. Your eyes are becoming lazy and you’re just pressing your keyboard too hard one key at a time. 

“Oy, it’s still early for you to be sleepy,” he scolds you.

You tap your face, a futile attempt to wake yourself up because your eyes are still dazed when you look at him. “It’s the cake. I overfed myself and now I want to sleep like one.” You groan as you realize your mistake. “No worries though. I just need coffee,” you mutter. 

He slams his palm on the wooden surface of your table. “Do not get coffee,” he warns almost threateningly. He does not want a repeat of what happened the last time where you’re one wheeze away from death because of your damn coffee.

“But I need it,” you protest.

“No, you don’t. What you need is rest.”

“Don’t wanna. It felt weird last time. I don’t like slacking off when someone else is being productive,” you insist further.

He sighs irritably at your obstinacy. There’s no need to rush because you two managed to get back on the schedule you set, but then again he understands why. You’re trying to get as much shit done before your responsibilities become too much for you. 

That’s probably how you’ve been getting by for the past three years, being a university scholar while managing the team. If being a student while being an athlete is already difficult for him, how much more  for you who has grades to maintain while working as well?

If it were anyone else, they’d have exploded from the humongous amount of work that entails. Yet, you come to the gym with that carefree attitude of yours like you’re not burdened in any way. In all the times you’ve met with him outside the gym, not once has he heard you complain about it. 

You don’t whine. You just do what needs to be done.

It’s something worth respecting, to say the least. But you should really rest when your body tells you to. 

“I’ll stop doing the report and watch volleyball clips from last year’s Olympics. Take your nap,” he says. 

Your face brightens up at his suggestion. “Can I watch with you?”

“No.” The point of him watching is so that you can rest easy, not for you to join him. However, the look on your face tells him you won’t budge unless he lets you watch with him. 

“I swear, it’ll do me better than a nap,” you press on. 

He rubs his temple with irritation as you leave him with no choice but to agree. “Fine.” You squeal at his approval and scamper to his side. 

He opens his folders of volleyball clips he’s yet to watch while you tuck your knees together the same way you did last time you watched documentaries for your project. 

Halfway through the first clip, he feels your head bump his shoulder. He peers at you from his peripheral and sees your hazy eyes fighting off sleep. He doesn’t say anything and just waits for your drowsiness to successfully take over. 

By the end of the first video, he feels your head bobbing forward which he can no longer ignore. “Can’t you just go to your bed and sleep?” he asks almost desperately. 

You fix your posture and open your eyes again. “I’m fine.”

He rolls his eyes and gives a resigned huff as he skids his laptop to your front. You shoot him a puzzled look while he positions himself behind you. 

“Continue watching then.” He scoots closer until your back is pressed to him, effectively caging you as he extends his legs on your both sides. There’s no use trying to convince you to sleep when you’re this stubborn. So, he’ll just provide you the means to do so. 

You frown at him which he answers with a raised eyebrow. In the end, you just shrug it off and go back to watching. 

Just as he anticipated, you’re already unconscious in a matter of minutes. Your head falls back to his chest. He lets you settle deeper in your sleep, watching you unconsciously find a position you’re most comfortable in. By the time the second video ends, you’re no longer wiggling around and have found refuge on the front of his shoulder with your arm loosely wrapped around his bicep. 

Although he did say that he’ll slack off with you, he sees no reason to uphold it now that he’s finally got you to rest. Unlike you, he works at a normal pace. He needs to continue doing his own tasks so when you wake up, he’s already done as well. 

He carefully reaches for his laptop and closes the video currently playing. He gets back to working on the current draft of the project, feeling the strain on his back with nothing to support him while you lean against him. 

He shouldn't be doing this. There is no reason for him to be inconvenienced this way by you. This isn’t part of the deal.

But seeing how you’re working so hard yet still face everyone else with that vexatious cheerful smile of yours, he deems you deserving of that serene look on your face while you’re peacefully snuggled within his grasp. 

Just as he allowed you to kiss him, he also allows you to hold on to him like this. 

--

“Hey, number 17!”

Tsukishima hears someone yell. He’s sure that it was him who’s being called because he recognizes the voice. It’s someone from the Jaguars, the team they’re up against after winning against the Lions the previous game.

Still, he’d like to pretend that he doesn’t know it’s him the other athlete is shouting for. The gym is filled with other number 17s from different teams anyways. He can easily dismiss it. 

However, he hears his last name not long after, automatically singling him out from the other players who also wore his jersey number. 

Even though he despises small talk, it would be rude to ignore other players when they specifically call for him in public. Not that he bothers about what other people think of him, but more about how he represents his team. 

In high school, he didn’t care at all. But things are different now in the professional level. He’s forced to engage in insignificant nonsense with other players. 

He just hopes that this time it won’t be one of those times and that whatever this is is actually important

He turns around lazily and sees not one, but two Jaguars approaching him. It’s their starting setter and their pinch server. “I thought you couldn’t hear us, dude,” the setter says. He doesn’t reply and just stands his ground while waiting for what they’re going to say. 

“Anyways, mind if we ask the number of your manager?” 

It’s worse than nonsense. They approached him because of you.

They turn towards each other and simper at how they seem to think that it’s a genius idea to ask him instead of you. 

“You can ask her yourself. She’s just over there with the rest of the team,” he passively suggests. He’d be glad to lead these two poor hopeful souls if they want to. He’s sure you’d be more than happy to entertain them, in your own kind of way. 

“Nah. We know how she disses everyone. That’s why we’re asking you, Tsukishima-kun,” the pinch server counters. 

He’s the least protective of you compared to the rest of the team. He doesn’t care if you flirt all day long with these people or if you give your number to every single person here at the stadium. 

But whatever these hoodlums the idea that  he’ll  be the one to give your number to them? It’s not his to give. It’s yours. “It’s not really my decision to make,” he responds. 

“Is she really that good of a manager that you won’t share her?” 

He would’ve not perceived anything out of it if not for the malicious grin that surfaced on the setter’s poor excuse of a face. The two athletes step closer and speak in a volume only for him to hear. 

“Come on now. Don’t tell us you guys are not touching that hot piece dangling itself in front of you.”

‘Lowlives.’ 

That’s the most fitting word he can describe these two uneducated imbeciles who talk like you’re a slice of meat. No one deserves to be treated like that, especially you who madly dedicate yourself out of actual interest and affection for the team and the sport. 

Yet, these two fucking dimwits are insinuating that you’re available for him and his teammates to sleep around with. It’s more than just disrespect. It’s an absolute mockery of the effort and commitment you have for the job. 

It’s not his place to be angry. He’s not the one being slighted. But the image of your exhausted features fighting off sleep to do the report of these scumbags in front of him makes him want to do something about their blatant lack of intelligence. 

“Don’t look so scary now. We’re not going to steal your manager. We just want to know what it’s like to have a hot one managing us,” the setter once again proves his brainlessness to Tsukishima, successfully provoking him to do what he’s been itching to do. 

He offers them a too-pleasant smile that he gives to people who are about to get a taste of his snide irony. “Sorry, but it’s not really my problem that no one wants to manage a bunch of unsightly goons.”

A vein on the setter’s temple looks like it’s about to pop out as his hand yanks Tsukishima’s collar. 

“The fuck did you say?!” The setter of the Jaguars lashes out, quickly losing his temper amidst the public gymnasium.

The feigned smile on Tsukishima’s face is replaced by a genuine smirk as the two dimwits react exactly the way he wants them too. Although he can rile them up even more than he did, something tells him that these peabrains will actually resort to violence if he does so.

They’ll definitely be held out from playing the game if they do get violent, but so will he if he gets involved. 

Even though he looks unmotivated and lazy, he actually likes being on the court. And if he’s going to be honest, he looks forward to blocking the tosses of the setter who’s clutching his shirt at present.

“You shitty blocker,” the pinch server backs up his teammate. 

The shift of attention from you to Tsukishima doesn’t surprise him at all. From slandering you, they quickly move to verbally attacking him. His eyebrow twitches up from the remark but doesn’t bother responding to it. 

Why would he when he’ll just prove them wrong later? Instead of engaging with these two, he should be getting back to the rest of the team to get ready for their match. 

He’s about to grab the setter’s wrist to yank it off him when a set of feminine fingers beat him to it.

“My, my. Thank you for wanting to be friends with one of our players, but he really needs to warm up now,” you say with congenial sympathy to the upcoming competition. 

They seem to have forgotten that you’re the reason why they approached him. The setter releases Tsukishima’s shirt with a glare before the two Jaguars walk away.

“Bye, bye! Let’s get along well, yeah??” you shout and wave at them way too enthusiastically. You probably didn’t catch them talking about you, which is a good thing because you didn’t need to hear that kind of horse shit.

You put a light hand on his shoulder, making him anticipate a lecture from you for dawdling around. But you only tell him that you two should go back already. 

As you both turn around, the smile on your face drops while your grip on his shoulder tightens. 

“Did it bother you that much?” he asks as you both walk back to the court. 

“You bet it did. The gall of them to call you a shitty blocker, those fuckfaces. I swear to God, I would’ve,” you take a sharp breath then slowly let it out as you take your hands off him. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. It’s just the usual gibberish talk among athletes,” you say to yourself, more than to him.

“What about what they said before that?”

Your brows scrunch up as you try to figure out what he’s talking about. “You mean when they assumed I’m sexing everyone from the team? Nah. I know some people think I’m a slut because I’m too sexy for their lame asses. I’m used to it so I don’t really care about crap like that,” you explain way too casually. 

He thought that at this time and age, people would be a little more progressive with how they think. Apparently, he was wrong. He’s always observed how you put yourself out there, entertaining any flattery that’s thrown at you. It’s also very obvious how open you are to showing affection for the team.

But he didn’t think people would have such indecent assumptions about you. What surprises him even more is you’ve been aware of it for some time now. Still, you continue being yourself.

“But Goooood. Their childish shit talking really pissed me off.” Your previous attempt to calm yourself down fails as anger graces your features once again.

“Promise me something, Tsukishima,” you tell him a few steps away from the court.

“What?” 

“Up your blocking game and win. I want to see those fucktard’s faces pulverized with defeat,” you announce as you seethe with fiery determination.

“There’s no need to promise,” he says calmly before the curve of his lips form a subtle yet definite grin. You immediately get his message as you mirror the arrogant pride on his face with a smirk of your own.

—

You’re not particularly competitive. Even as the captain of your own team before, you did not play to win. You played with your very best because you want to experience all the sport has to offer.

Maybe that’s why you stopped playing and decided to be a manager. You love the sport, but not as an athlete. You just love pushing people to their potential and being their support so they can give their all during matches.

Although you do like winning, you’re not hellbent on it. As long as the team gives their everything and you see them at their best, you’re happy with that.

This match is an exception.

At 23-24 with the Sendai Frogs on their match point, you’re clutching your notebook way too hard that the pages become crumpled and the edges dig in your palms.

When you saw Tsukishima earlier approached by the two Jaguars, you didn’t intervene immediately. You were near the area, watching and listening as to how things will unfold. You didn’t hear much of their mumbled conversation, but you caught enough words to put together that it was you they’re talking about. 

You do gain a lot of attention, but some of them are not exactly wholesome. Apparently, being outspoken and open equates to being easy to bed.

You just wish they said something more interesting because you almost yawned at how unoriginal their speculation is. You fucking around with the Sendai Frogs? Groundbreaking. 

What amused you though is Tsukishima’s response. Right at that moment, you wanted to kiss his snarky mouth. Not because he defended your honor, but from the clever snide comeback he quickly spat at their faces. 

Your amusement was quickly ruined when one of them laid a hand on him. You didn’t care that the fuckfaced setter did it in public. Even if he did it with no one around, your blood still would’ve boiled. But when he said that Tsukishima was a shitty blocker? The palm of your hand itched to get roughly acquainted with the opposing setter’s face. 

If this isn’t a tournament, you would’ve had a hard time deciding whether or not you’d have done it. But since this  is  a tournament, you can’t do that. You need to be civil and maintain good relations with every team, even if some of their members lack basic decency and  proper manners. 

Luckily, there is a way to get back at them: that is to win this match which has got you to the edge of your seat as soon as it reached the 20s of the second set. 

With Tsukishima, Eiji, and Kogane in front, there’s nothing to be scared about. It’s just that you really want them to score that last point already. 

The ball gets to your court and is received by Kogane, effectively cutting out your most optimal set-up to attack. 

“Tsukki!” Kogane calls out. Tsukishima runs to the center of the court, right in front of the net. The opposing blockers observe him to predict who he’s tossing the ball to, only to leave him completely open as he dunks the ball to the Jaguars’ side of the net.

You were sure it happened fast, but the pounding of your heart made it seem like the ball hitting the ground was in slow motion. You wait for the referee’s signal, hoping that there were no misplays on the Frog’s end that would prolong the game. 

The referee whistles and extends his arm to the Frog’s court, letting everyone know that it’s your team’s win. Cheers from team members themselves roar inside the gymnasium, soon joined by the applause from the audience. 

You’re supposed to check the losing facade of the Jaguars, but the joy and relief of winning floods you that you completely forget about how they insulted your clever middle blocker. You leave your tally notebook on the bench and rush to the court along with other members. 

You’ve always been impressed with Tsukishima’s blocking skills, but to win from his offensive mindfuckery with the other team just sent you to a whole different level of being proud. So it’s him you first go to. 

Without putting any thought to it, you wrap your arms around his waist. You don’t mind that he’s sweating and that his body heat is emanating from his skin. You’re too thrilled that he scored the winning point to even care. 

“Good job, Tsukishima!”

Right after saying it out loud, you feel him tense beneath your touch. You lift your gaze up to him and meet his eyes which are wide from shock and panic. Immediately after, your eyes do the same when you realize what you’ve done.

The loud cheers from the team have stopped.  You slowly turn your head to see why, even though you already know the reason.

It’s like a paused scene from a movie where everyone completely halts whatever they’re doing. The only difference is they stopped with their attention completely on you, specifically on how your limbs are enclosed around Tsukishima’s waist and your cheek flat on his chest. 

Shit. 

You’re hugging Tsukishima in public, in front of the whole team.

Part 4 || Part 6 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem​ @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu  @expectonothinfromme @finnydraws @namelessidentity @hqbeesun @yatoatyourservice @mrkozume @suzuyamitsuki @celestialarchiveshq @yongboxerrr @gomenpudding @kutiekoge @fizzfrick @flamingosis @korean-bbq​

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu smut

[writingsbychlo]

home for christmas | mitch rapp

word count;  10,665

summary; mitch is happy to settle down with the simple life, and he just wants to celebrate christmas with his fiancée, for the first christmas he’s had home since before he joined the army. 

notes; I know this isn’t stan’s farmhouse in the movies, but this is the kind of farmhouse I picture them having, so you’re just gonna’ have to use your imaginations!

warnings; smut, thats about it.

“Mornin’, soldier.”

Mitch simply huffed, a smirk forming on his face as he rolled over, raising his brows a little, sleep still evident across his face, the crease from a pillow being pressed into his cheek, the red mark disappearing into the dark stubble-smattering on his jaw, and you reached out a hand, rubbing over it as he blinked himself a little further awake. “Not anymore, sweetheart. You think if I was still a soldier I’d be getting to sleep in this late with a pretty woman by my side?”

“I should hope not, you were with me for the most part, so if you had another pretty woman in your bed, you should fess up now. I’d hate for that to come out on the altar.”

He growled, rolling you over until you were pressed back into the bedding, nipping a little at your shoulder as you broke out in a fit of giggles, albeit strained as the weight of his frame pressed into you, 200lb of solid muscle crushing you lovingly. “Don’t even insinuate it.”

“Yeah, I know.” You mumbled, a hand threading into his hair, and the teasing nips became soft kisses pressed to your bare skin, and he eventually gave up, rolling onto his side, and letting you cuddle up into his side a little, exhaustion no longer claiming either of you, but laziness in the bliss of the morning was. “Merry Christmas, Mitch.”

“Merry Boxing Day.”

“Technicalities.” You whispered, pecking at his cheek, the closest spot you could reach, before you were pushing yourself to it up a little more, legs crossing on the mattress, and stretching your arms up above your head to loosen the muscles.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You repeated, head rolling from side to side, before you were shaking yourself down slightly and revelling in the numbness slipping out of your bones and muscles as energy surged through you instead.

“That pathetic excuse for a good morning kiss.” He tapped at his lips, pouting them slightly, brows raising as he watched you move to press your feet to the cold floors, standing up only a moment later. “Where do you think you’re going? Get back here and kiss me!”

“Nope. If you want kisses, you can come and get them.”

He gaped, watching you disappear into the bathroom, and you ginned to yourself, hearing the floorboards of the bedroom creak from a room over, running your toothbrush under the tap as you squeezed a dollop of the paste onto the bristles, raising your eyebrows at the man behind you. He had braced himself on either side of the doorframe, large shoulders and tall stature all but filling it, messy bedhead and unshaven jaw making him a vision of morning laziness, and he raised his brows at you as he returned your stare, a smile on his face as you scrubbed at your teeth.

Pacing across the bathroom, he pressed you up against the counter from behind, hands finding the edges of the sink as your hips pushed up to the cold porcelain, and he hooked a chin over your shoulder. One hand came up, on the other side of your jaw, twisting your face towards him, and you lifted your brush down long enough to press your lips against his, hearing him hum happily finally got what he was after. Your lips moved softly against his, a slight foam build-up getting stuck in his stubble as your mouths worked together, but neither of you could find it within yourselves to care, the first kiss of the day still feeling just as special as it had the first night you’d stayed a night together, all those years ago.

When he pulled back, he licked at his lips, wiping away the froth stuck on the spiky hairs around his face, grinning a little, and pecking a kiss to your temple. “You taste minty.”

“Of’ious’y.” You mumbled, the word getting confused in translation through the workings you were doing, but he raised his brows at the sass, gasping slightly, and you grinned, spitting and rinsing, before turning to look at him “Captain Obvious over here.”

“You’re sassy this morning.” He teased, pinching at your ass and snickering as you yelped, smacking away his hand and fixing him with a false glare. “Don’t be so sassy on Christmas.”

“I thought it was Boxing Day?” You retorted, watching him roll his eyes fondly, and as you wandered back into the bedroom, you noticed that he’d made the bed, blankets pulled straight, and you appreciated the gesture

“It’s our Christmas Day. Is that really what your Christmases were like these last few years?” His hand found yours from the second you had a jumper pulled on over your shoulders, tugging you toward the staircase and down the rickety steps that were in urgent need of repair, but those weren’t on the list yet.

So far, the two of you had made some pretty grand progress on the house that you were now calling your own. Your father had returned to duty, and you were in charge of renovating an old farmhouse, and making it truly liveable once again. The broken pipes, squeaky doors and splintering panels were no longer cutting it, and in the couple of short months since your lover had returned from the front lines, and stayed here with you.

The first week after your father had left, had been entirely spent in bed, properly celebrating the engagement you’d made, the way it should be celebrated when you were young and in love. The following month and a half leading you up to where you were now had been spent planning, clearing out the junk of old furniture and stripping the insides of the house, all the work you couldn't do alone, finding yourself now with a partner.

The porch was being extended into a wrap-around, and the outside had been stripped. The flaking paint had been sanded off, the wood underneath smoothed and repainted, before the weather had turned too cold and wet, glazed over and perfected, an off-white colour that complimented the darks of the landscape around it. Mitch had spent almost a week straight fixing broken and cracking tiles on the roof, a week when your heart had leapt into your throat every time he went up the ladder, fearing that he’d fall or injure himself, and yet the real injured had come inside.

As the final fall warmth had slipped away and the bitter and biting cold had started to come in, you’d thrown out all the moth-bitten and broken furniture inside, plans to replace it all, and sell what you deemed worthy, raising funds for the major project you’d undertaken. Splinters, torn nails, and grazes from tripping over and scraping your knees and elbows on rough flooring. However, it had all been worth it, and you shivered a little as you stepped into the kitchen, feeling the squeeze on your hand, before looking up to the man standing behind you.

“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. What dd you say?”

“I said, is this how you always spent your Christmases for these last few years?” The sounds of the kettle filling up as it sat on the top of the old gas stove sounded the metal clanging a little as it filled, the two of you waiting patiently over the racket, before settling it over the flame to begin heating. “Y’know, celebrating late, the video calls, all that?”

He was referring to the real Christmas Day, yesterday, having been spent waiting for the time when you’d get to talk to your father over a somewhat glitchy video chat call for your twenty-minute slot, having no idea when it would actually be. “Yeah, pretty much. Except, for the last few years, I had to do it twice.” You poked at his stomach as he stood before you, a grin on his lips, before he was catching your hand, pulling it up to press a kiss over the ring shining on your finger.

“Funny, to think that for years, I’ve been excitedly waiting to facetime my superior’s daughter, just to get a Merry Christmas and a kiss through the screen while I was out in the middle of God knows where, defending our country, and we never even knew.” His arms looped your waist, pulling you in close against the cold of the late December chill in the air, and your own arms wrapped around his neck. You leaned in, enough that he thought you were going to press a kiss to his lips, before you were lifting yourself up, and standing on his feet, grinning when he grunted, before he was looking at your curiously. “What’cha doing, kitten?”

“The floor is cold. I don’t want to stand on it.”

“Well, it would be considerably less cold if someone had just picked which tiles they wanted before the store closed over Christmas, I could be getting on with installing them, and we would’ve had heated kitchen flooring by New Years.” He tutted, lifting you to sit on the counter as the kettle began to whistle, and he worked around you to fill up the teapot on the side with the perfect brew, two mugs being gathered from one of the cupboards, before it was being pressed into your hands.

“I wanted real stone! All the samples of tiles just didn’t seem right, and-”

“And you want to have a rustic and authentic farmhouse feel, I know.” He finished your sentence for you, heat flushing your face at just how many times you must’ve said it for I’m to have memorised the statement, and he chuckled, letting you hope down and back onto the cold and stripped flooring of the kitchen to make your way to the table. The scraping of the wooden chairs over the flooring rang out, and you sat in beside him, blowing the steam away, and picking up one of the catalogues that were stacked up, opening it up to the last dog-eared page and taking a look at it all. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Despite asking the question, Mitch was already rattling around in the drawers for a frying pan, seeming to have made up his mind on what he was going to eat, and so you hummed a little, sipping at the herbal mix in your mug. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”

“Eggs and bacon it is, then.”

You only nodded, unsure whether or not he could see you, but you weren’t looking at him, falling into a comfortable science together as you examined the conversions and extensions laid out on the glossy pages before you. The sizzling and popping of the eggs and bacon faded into the background, ideas swirling in your mind as he worked, the cogs brushing off the dust as you took in what you were seeing.

Most of them were small conversations, sheds and garages, all with ideas on how to save heating and conserve energy, but your mind was wandering your own home. You’d already done so much, knocking through the wall of the small guest bedroom beside your own to turn it into a closet, and tearing up the flooring in the downstairs of the house, to replace it with newer and polished solid oak slats. How much harder could be building a wall, and converting something a little bigger than a shed?

A plate landed in front of you, making you jump in shock, before the magazine was being pulled away from you, and the smell of the meal was enticing you in. “Should I be concerned that you spend more time looking at renovation magazines than wedding ones?”

He was smiling as he spoke, no heat to his words, but you scoffed nonetheless, tapping your finger against another pile of magazines, and you felt as though your entire house was spilling over with them, filling the house in piles from top to bottom. You had more magazines than yo id furniture at this stage, the small and slightly dull Christmas tree in the corner being a sad excuse, an old TV propped up on cardboard boxes and cushions along the floor with a blanket put down, the rest of your ‘living room; being barren, waiting for its decorating to be complete.

“Have you even chosen a dress, yet? I already have my suit.”

“I’m excited to marry you, Mitch, I really am. I couldn't imagine anything that would make me happier, but that is one day of our lives. The best day, but just one day. This house is where we’re going to live, it’s the future you want, and where we’ll grow old. If something goes wrong on our wedding day, that sucks, but we’ll fix it.” He paused his chewing, staring at you with wide eyes across the table, before swallowing his mouthful thickly and reaching out with one hand to lace your fingers together to sit atop the wood. “I want our home to be perfect.”

“It will be, we’ll take our time.”

You smiled, letting him mirror the action, squeezing his hand in your own, before pulling your hand back to pick up your cutlery, and beginning into the meal he had made. “For the record, I have a few dress ideas.” You tapped the cover of one of the furthest magazines from yourself, the pages worn and folded, evidently having been used, and his brows shut up, a grin on his face as he ate.

“Can I see?” A few crumbs flew from his mouth as he spoke through the food stuffed between his cheeks, and you tried to hold in your chuckle at the sight.

“Please don’t do that at our wedding.” You grimaced, and he swallowed his mouthful, sticking his tongue out at you childishly, the playful manner between you both being more than comfortable, it was perfect, and you kicked at his shin under the table as he wiggled his brows cheekily. “No, you can’t look at them, it’s bad luck.”

“Don’t be superstitious.” He scoffed, pulling the magazine over to himself, and holding it out of your reach when you leaned across the table to snatch it back. “Besides, it’s bad luck to see the bride in the dress before the day, not to see some random model in a dress.”

“Yeah, well, don’t you want it to be a surprise?”

His eyes flicked down, smirking a little at the swell of your breasts hanging from the robe your wore that was falling open the more you reached to get the brochure back, and you gave up on that tactic, rounding the table instead to try and grab it from him. He scooted back, the chair legs scraping against the bare concrete floor, a loud laugh on his lips to match the giggles you were letting out as the war became a game.

“Mitch! If you keep this up, I’ll purposefully buy a really awful dress! Something from the eighteen hundreds with frills and layers, and I’ll look like Little Bo Peep!”

“Baby, I’d marry you even if you were wearing a potato sack.” As you reached for the folds of paper, he snatched your wrist in his other hand, tugging you into him until you were perched across his lap, a leg dangling on either side of his on the chair, and he wrapped that same arm around your waist, connecting them behind your back to hold you securely, and your own looped his neck. “But, please don’t wear something with frills and layers and a thousand buttons, because it’ll make it way harder to have our first dance if I can barely reach you over a puffy gown.”

“I’ll wear something a little bit more modern, then. I’d hate to miss our first dance.”

You brushed the tip of your nose against his, lips brushing together as he smiled, and you heard the magazine drop away to the ground, before both hands were splaying out over your back, and pushing you closer, until your chest was pressed to his, and you were looking down at him, sharing a breath. “Besides, kitten, don’t you think you should wear something that I’ll be able to get you out of easily when we get to be alone, afterwards?”

“Well, I think I should get something cheap, because I have a feeling you’re going to rip it.”

He growled under his breath, catching your lip with his teeth and tugging gently, before pressing a kiss to the edge of your mouth, hands moving down to sit on your ass, as he pressed another kiss to your jaw, and then your cheek. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Not tempting, I just know you too well. If previous experience in pretty gowns is anything to go on.”

He chuckled, nodding his head, before wrapping his arms around you fully, face resting in your neck as he settled in to hug you, prompting you to squeeze yourself a little more firmly around him in response, a hand coming up to brush through the long and messy tendrils of hair on his head. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Mitch.”

Your food was growing cold, half-eaten and still sitting out, but you were much more invested in soaking up every second of the loving embrace he was offering you, and so you were more than happy to remain this way, wrapped up in his arms, for as long as he would take it.

The time slipped by, mumbled conversations taking place, and the hands on the clock ticking over the o’clock marker and beginning the afternoon, the late lay in that the two of you had indulged in giving a glorious delay to the day. Lazy and relaxed, it was exactly how you wanted to spend your late-Christmas, and when he finally shifted to check the clock himself, he merely huffed, the hot breath fanning over your neck and making you twitch a little as it tickled, and he loosened his hold on you to let you go.

“Do you still want to have a Christmas lunch? I can set everything off, but it’ll be more like dinner with this timing.”

“I think it’ll be fun to have it later, we can eat while watching movies. We can drag all the blankets and cushion we still have down onto the floors and make it cosy.” He merely nodded, before standing with you still in his arms, stealing a final kiss from your lips as you giggled, the grip on your thighs loosening as you sank to the ground, finding him now looking down at you, lips pressing to your forehead once he let you go. “Go light the fire in the living room, it’s a little cooler today. We should get the heating going earlier.”

“You got it, soldier.”

He smiled bashfully, nudging you towards the empty doorway, knocked through to make it all more open plan, and you could feel his eyes still lingering on you a little as you wandered through to the main room. Settling before the cold fireplace in a comfortable position, you assessed what you were seeing before you, noting that it was filled with old ash, days having passed since the two of you had emptied it. Dragging out the collecting tray underneath, you tipped it into the bucket, the edges stained, trying not to let the dust escape into the room too much, and tipping it carefully so that it didn’t cloud in the air.

While the house did have heating, it had all been disassembled and the heaters taken from the walls for the renovations, the two of you seeming to have missed that when planning your work to take place inside over the Christmas period, leaving the house cold unless you lit the fire.

When the grates were clear once again, You began to scrunch up the pages of the old newspapers and letters that were no longer in use, creating a range of tight and loose balls of paper form them, and beginning to stack them in the fire. Small kindling followed, twigs and little chunks of wood, coal to follow, to keep the heat going for longer, burning quietly. It didn’t take much longer of patting around yourself and searching to find the matches, the almost empty box being revealed to you, and with a single strike, a flame was taking up at the end, and you buried it within the pile. The newspapers took a light quickly, flames roaring up within seconds as they burned brightly, the paper becoming ash after only a minute or two, but it had been long enough for the smaller wood to catch.

The flames were duller, but the heat was already beginning to pour off of the fireplace as the smaller wood caught fire, crackling a little as it went, the black chunks of coal starting to smoke slightly, turning ashy grey where flames touched, and there was no way it would go out now. Adding some logs on top for a longer burn and more enjoyable smell, you deemed it a job well done, wiping your hands clean on the rag hanging beside the fireplace, and placing the grate over the front, hauling yourself up to stand.

Eyes closing in on the ash bucket, you were tempted to leave it there, but foreseeing the accident of tripping over it and spending house cleaning up ash was more than enough to motivate you, the images flashing behind your lids when you closed them. Mitch was tinkering in the kitchen, the dull clashes of pots and pans, the sink occasionally switching on and off, hearing him shuffle around and chop as he prepared you both a meal, and you moved across the room, swapping your robe out for one of his hoodies and a coat to combat the cold air.

Grabbing the bucket and taking it with you, a shiver ran down your spine at the cold air that swept over you from the second that you stepped out and onto the porch, the swing bench squeaking as it rocked in the slight breeze, and you looked around for a pair of boots. Tugging on wellies for the trek through the slippery mud and frosty grasses to the compost pile at the end of the first field, you set off towards it, arms tightly wrapped to your body to seal out the heat.

A short walk all things considered, but it felt like miles in the biting cold, and your fingers were trembling against the cold metal of the bucket as you tipped it all out, stomping it down a little with your foot and covering the dry dust over so that it wouldn't blow away all over the place, knowing just how good it all was for the fields.

The two of you hadn't quite decided what you wanted to do with the land yet, but you still had plenty of time to make up your minds. Mitch wanted to go for the full traditional farm life, with animals and agriculture and the whole shebang. You wanted to take a more modern turn, with pretty gardens and orchards, maybe grow fruits and vegetables, something simpler but not requiring the work that potatoes and pigs would take. After all, it was just the two of you, right now. That little collection of books and leaflets was still sitting unopened, the two of you having agreed to leave that decision until after your house was finished, and everything else was settled, instead of burdening yourselves with too much at once.

As you made your way back, you took in everything around you. While the area may look a little barren and empty right now, you had big plans for it all, the house being the main feature, standing out like a sore thumb as it looked beautiful and prominent with all it’s redecorating in opposition to the abandoned and somewhat desolate landscape around it, even the barn still needing redoing.

Placing to bucket down on the edge of the porch, you spun, hands tucked into your pockets as you considered the tall wooden structure.

It hadn't been used much since your grandparents had owned the farm and all of the land around it, keeping it traditional, back when there had been a tractor and plough that would park inside with hay bales and spare supplies, all of which would contribute or the farm, but had eventually broken or been sued up, never replaced. You could barely remember what it was like inside now, not having been in there since you were a child, your father telling you all about how he’d play and hide in here when he was a child, but your memory was fuzzy.

As you approached it, you found chains locked tightly through the weakened handles on the chipping wood, a large coded padlock keeping them closed, and you smirked to yourself a little, lifting the freezing metal up to examine it. The numbers were almost worn away, yet still just enough visible for you to work with, and you tried your birthday on it, finding that the lock didn’t budge. Your birthday had always been your father’s passcodes and passwords, a fact you’d discovered when you were twelve and never told him about, so you had unimpeded access to everything, but clearly not this.

Despite your peaked curiosity, you had almost given up, before remembering that this was your grandparents’ barn, and likely still had their code on it unchanged from when they realised their son was going into the army, and wouldn't run their farm. Trying your dad’s birthday, the lock popped loose, enabling you to untangle the chains and leave them hanging open as a muffled ‘aha!’ fell from you. The doors were heavy as you pulled on them, large wooden frames that were stiff from years of disuse. The hinges were rusted, and so you were just about able to get one open enough to slip inside, the musty smell of farms and equipment overwhelming your senses, bringing back memories you didn’t know you had forgotten from when you were a child.

There was lighting, but you didn’t think it would still work, flicking your hand over the switch, and as expected, they didn’t light up. The stairs were damaged, floor was strewn with old hay and broken equipment, useless bits of equipment, and you could see just enough of it all from the gaps in the wood that served as windows. It was large, even larger than you’d remembered, the wooden framework appearing smaller on the outside than it was on the inside, and the pipes along the walls were broken.

Following the trail along, they met at a sink in the corner of one room, a large bathtub that was caked in mud, and you assumed that it had always been the place where your grandparents would wash up after a hard day’s work, before going back up to the little farmhouse, as not to trail mud through the home. The wood of the walls rattled slightly, doing nothing to keep out the cold as some wood even began to give way, looking as though it was in desperate need of repair, but a little TLC would go a long way into transforming the space.

Upstairs was far more exciting, or it had been, when you were younger. The balcony overlooked the lower floor, a higher platform where the centre missing to look down on the main floor, and you’d loved to play hide and seek up here when you were barely above hip-height on your father, feeling like an adventure just for going up the steps. The bannisters and barricades were snapped and broken now, years of misfortune taking them, but it was a simple fix. The space would be infinitely better once all the leftover crap had been hauled out of it, and it was stripped bare for renovations.

You were wound up in your thoughts, jumping a little as the main door scraped some more, your lover squeezing his way inside, looking around the lower floor, before dragging his gaze up to find you at the top of the steps. A warm coat wrapped around him, feet shoved into wellies like your own, pyjamas pants ruffled from the action and he looked adorable, a grin taking over his face as he looked at you.

“Thought you’d be up in your closet sorting out our clothes and keeping warm, or something. Didn’t expect to have to hunt you down in a barn when the temperatures are dipping so low.”

“It’s freezing out here, right? There’s absolutely no insulation in here.” He chuckled, unsure of where that statement was going but watching as you came darting down the steps, and meeting you halfway, producing a hand from his pocket to take your own, fingers weaving together, before he was hiding them both back in the warmth it had once been, holding you tight to his side and following your gaze to look around. “It would be better, with some insulation and panelling.”

“Much better, I agree.”

“If we did it up real nice, painted it like the main house, it’d make a pretty great living space, don’t you think?” He hummed, eyes narrowing as he looked around, clearly not seeing the same thing you are but not wanting to voice it, and you grinned, the hand that wasn’t joined with his and tucked in his pocket waving in front of yourselves. “It has a water supply, so there could be a kitchen and bathroom down here, in the far corner, and some couches. A TV set up, a little coffee table, a whole load of nice rugs to keep the floors warm. Upstairs, a bed, and all the storage, a simple but effective living space.”

“I guess so, but we don’t really need it.”

“Of course, we don’t.” You bumped your shoulder against his, and he lifted his arm up, keeping his hand held with yours but letting you snuggle under his arm, instead, drawn close to his body for warmth. “But, it would be great for dad. He’s not home a lot, but it would be a great place for him to know he can come back to when he’s not on deployment, and inevitably retire to.”

A warm laugh bubbled up beside you, the man shaking a little as the sound rumbled from him, and you turned to face him, quirking a brow. “We’re kicking your dad out of the farmhouse, now? He’s not gonna’ like that.”

“Yeah, well, we’re going to need privacy when he’s home.” You poked his side lightly, watching a cheeky expression filter over his features as he stared out at the barn, cogs working inside his mind as he began to picture it like you were, and you turned to look at it all yourself, mentally constructing the perfect home for your father. “Besides, his room and the guest rooms might want to be something else, someday.”

You heard his breathing hitch, his gaze locking not you, and two fingers hooking under your chin to turn your gaze back to him. He choked down the lump in his throat, seeming a little nervous, nibbling on his lower lip before finding the words. “Do you mean as, like, baby rooms? Nurseries and kids rooms?”

“Yeah, I do.”

He let out a shaky laugh, sniffling a little as tears lined his eyes, your brows furrowing as you twisted to face him, bringing your hands up to his cheeks and cupping them, using your thumb to wipe away the first tear that fell. “We’re going to have our own little family? I get to have that, with you?”

“Oh, ‘course you do, honey.” His vulnerability was making you emotional yourself, tears burning in your eyes at the bright expression on his face, and he pressed a series of needy and quick kisses to your lips, between short gasps of breath, wet cheeks and lashes sticking together as he did, unable to contain his smile.

“I’ve always wanted kids, my own family, to be a dad.”

“I know.” You whispered, fingers stroking delicately over his skin as he still trembled a little under your touch. “You okay?”

“I’m so much better than ‘okay’. Every moment with you just gets better and better, I’ve never been this happy before.” You stood for a few moments longer, before the chill was becoming too much, and he was dragging you back to the main house, pausing only to redo the lock and chains on the rickety barn doors. It had a lot of work to do, but you had more than enough time, not planning to have a baby any time too soon, too much for the pair of you yet to do, but the day would come along one day, and now, you had a plan.

As you reached the door, kicking off your boots together and standing them up neatly, he took your coat for you, hanging it up inside and sealing the door against the cold, your skin tingling ad the warmth of the house embraced you, and he rubbed his hands up and down your arms, pressing a kiss to your head as he stood behind you, warming you up a little, and you wiggled your toes in your socks as you regained the feeling within them.

“We have a couple of hours to kill before dinner is ready.” He mumbled, the feeling of his voice vibrating along your skin making you grin a little, ticklish assault drawing giggles out of you as you tipped your head back a little further for him. He took the access granted to him, wet mouth closing further over soft and exposed flesh, his teeth beginning to join the mix, scraping enough to make you shiver. “Any ideas on what we could do?”

“Yeah, I have a few..”

He hummed happily, hands on your hips to turn you around, until your nose was bumping against his, and he could flick his tongue out just enough to tease at your lips, a smirk forming on his face. “What did you have in mind, kitten?”

“Something dirty, we haven’t done it in a while. We can get all the stuff out.”

“I like where this is going.” He whispered, leaning down to catch your lips with his, whining when you pulled back enough to keep him chasing, puckered lips forming a growl as you denied him affection. You gave in, leaning in enough to peck at his lips, dragging your kisses along his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands, and he let out a soft and breathy laugh as you did.

“Is that a yes?”

Your lips were brushing the shell of his ear, and you flicked your tongue out a little, just over the shell, feeling him tremble slightly underneath you in response, fingers flexing against your hips. “Absolutely it is.”

“So, you agree? We should do some cleaning?”

He huffed, pulling back, an unamused look on his face as he stared down at you, and you beamed up at him, thoroughly entertained by the way a moody was look was flashing over his features, and he pouted, not wanting kisses but instead wanting attention instead, and his hands pulled away, dropping down to his sides as you laughed at him.

“Oh, c’mon, baby. I’m just messing with you.”

“It’s Christmas.” He mumbled, grouchy as he tried to readjust himself through his pants, an uncomfortable look passing over his face as he did, and it only made you giggle more. “You’re not supposed to be a tease at Christmas.” You dragged your hands over his chest, pushing one up until it was tangling in the grown-out hairs that were deeply in need of some brushing and cutting, nails scratching at his scalp. Despite how much he wanted to keep up this act, he was already beginning to crumble, head leaning a little to press into your touch, and features softening the more you soothed him.

“It’s always a good time to be a tease, I have to keep you on your toes. Keep it exciting!”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes and bringing his hands up to find your cheeks, pulling your mouth up to his. It wasn’t the kiss you were expecting, it was a lot softer, more romantic and passionate, his tongue never dipping out to find yours, but simply your mouths working together in sweet and delicate exchanges. Thumbs were brushing over your skin, rubbing calming patterns and you sighed out happily against his mouth, stepping in closer until you could feel the warmth radiating from him, barely an inch between your bodies, and you wondered how it was possible that after all the time you’d been together, he still managed to make your heart race like this.

“I love you, Mitch Rapp.” Your words were whispered into his mouth, and he nodded his head, not breaking away long enough to return the words, before everything about the moment was changing. Sweet and romantic was crashing into a burning inferno of passion and need, teeth nibbling at your lower lip as he tempted them apart, wet articles tangling together as the desperation between you arose.

Hands were circling around to your back, lower and lower along your body, until he was taking handfuls of the fleshy mounds of your ass, pulling you in so close that your breath was knocked from your lungs at the impact of colliding, arching up into his chest with each drag of blunt nails over your covered skin. His bruisingly tight grip was making you whimper just at the touch, and his mouth continued to dominate over yours, a delicious attack that was leaving your lips stinging and raw as you kissed him back with equal force.

The moment that his hands slipped to your thighs, his legs bending as he braced himself, you took your queue, familiar with the unspoken signals between you both by now, and your legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted you into his arms, your own looping his neck. He was able to navigate the home expertly by now, knowing his way around without even a single hitch, and the first you knew of it was when your back was meeting cold sheets.

You gasped, arching up into him, and with the break in the frantic kisses came hickies along your neck. A wet mouth, descending along your skin to suck at your neck, teeth teasing and lips sucking until you were so tightly wound up with need that you thought you may burst at any moment.

He took his time, marking you up as though the two of you had all the time in the world, and while technically you did, you wanted to rush through to the main event, the drawn-out build-up making your head spin as it drove you wild, needing to feel him more than you wanted to simply imagine it. There were times when the foreplay excited you, when you’d spent hours kissing him, teasing him, rocking your hips down into his lips he was doing to you now until every part of you was sparking with excitement, making every touch he gave you even more thrilling.

This wasn’t one of the times, though. This was a time when you needed him now, when you needed to be joined to him in the most intimate way that you possibly could. You weren’t sure why, maybe it was just because it was the most wonderful time of the year, festive activities and jovial emotions heightening everything. Or, maybe it was the revelations that had come to you today, the two of you planning for your future always made you overflow with adoration for him, because he was committing himself to you in every possible way he could.

Every inch of your skin felt itchy, like you craved to be connected to him with every fibre, each cell in your body lighting up with the need to connect, and with your legs locking around his hips, you flipped him over, until he was staring up at you through wide eyes, cheeks flushed and a smirk painted in place of his usual endearing smile.

Your hands found the hem of your jumper, tugging it up and over your head, throwing it away to the floor as you felt like you were burning up with heat, and he sat up quickly enough to be able to help you with your t-shirt as that was next, lifting over your arms once you had it over your head.

“Y’know, I usually like to be the one getting to undress you.”

“You were taking too long.” You retorted, your hands dragging along his stomach, finding the hem of his shirt, and he raised his arms up over his head to let you peel it from his skin, hot to the touch as your fingertips as you traced the faint scars and hairs littered along and between his pecs. The muscles jumped under your touch, and you pushed him back down into the bedding, a breathless chuckle sounding from him, and he bent his arms, propping them under his head. The veins along his biceps made your mouth feel dry, and you leaned down, the tip of your tongue tracing along one until it disappeared at his shoulder, and you placed a kiss there, feeling him twitch a little at the featherlight touches.

“Forgive me, darling. I was trying to make it romantic.”

“No, you are getting back at me for being a tease.” You whispered, using one finger to push his head to the side, and he growled a little as you did, the sound cracking and breaking off as you sucked against the pulse point on his neck. His heartbeat was racing, the patch of skin throbbing as you worked to leave a large mark on his skin that would glow dark purple for days to come, and his breathing went shallow as you worked at the patch.

It was rare that ever let you have control enough to leave lovebites on him, the marks you littered on his skin were usually red marks along the skin of his back or nail prints on his shoulders, bite marks littered along his flesh as you tried to quiet yourself. It was the same way he would to you when you got so desperate that he’d fuck you wherever you were the honeymoon phase of your relationship lasting right up to your actual honeymoon, the two of you still driving one another crazy by a single lingering glance.

It was exactly how you knew that he was the one, that he meant the world to you and would always be your other half, because no matter what, the love and passion between you never dulled.

“Maybe I was getting back at you a little bit, but does that make you think you can take over?”

“Maybe it does.” His hands found your hips, and you rocked in his touch, grinding yourself back along the strained length that was tenting his sweatpants, and he bucked up into you as you did. Every roll you made back along his length, he met you with an equally forceful thrust, moans beginning to leave you as the pace picked up, and your fingers were curling into fists within the bedsheets as you simply tried to control yourself. “Fuck, Mitch..”

“Well, that’s exactly what we could be doing.”

He flipped you back over, and undignified and unaccepting sound on your lips as he took the power once again, the battle between you both becoming more erotic with every twist and turn of your bodies. He kissed all the way along your chest until he could sip his tongue below the hem of your pyjama pants, hot breath fanning over your skin, before he was peeling those down your legs.

You stood, sinking to your knees slowly as you dragged his sweatpants and boxers down his body, hands massaging your way back up his legs, fistfuls of his round ass making him jump, groaning under his breath and cheeks flushing pink at the attention that you gave to his body, the blush spreading right along to his chest. Kissing along his hips, he tangled a hand into your hair, stealing your thunder because as the strands were tugged, stinging against your scalp, you were putty in his hands once again.

Instinctually, your mouth fell open, a wicked look flashing across his features as he pushed the head of his cock between your lips, that dripping tip being all he let you have to begin with.  Sealing your mouth around him, he let out a string of appreciative noises in the forms of curses praise, your tongue dragging over his slit, a moan rippling through you at the salty taste of his precum spreading through your mouth.

You focused your attention there, tongue swiping and circling him, making sure his skin was soaked, and as you made to sink down further, he pulled away, wet cock smearing across your cheek and his thumb slipping into your mouth instead.

As you suckled on the digit, his fingers spread out over your neck, tips digging into the flesh, and your thighs clenched together, rubbing needily to try and quell some of the fire threatening to burn you up.

“You horny, baby? You need my cock, hm?”

You nodded, knowing he didn’t want you to use your words to reply, and he let out an approving sound as you did, pulling his thumb back, and sinking his index finger between your cheeks. This time, as you lapped at the finger, he continued to go, prodding back until you were gagging around him, tears lining your eyes and you were certain that the panties you were wearing would be ruined, because the feeling of being so completely and utterly under his control was something that always made you crazy.

He cared for you, he was dedicated to you, and every single time that the two of you had been together, he’d given you his sole focus, making you the most important thing in the world to him at that time, giving you everything you wanted, and now, you wanted to care for him.

“Want t’ make y’ feel goo’.” Your words were muffled, his brows raising, and he pulled the wet finger back, trailing over your skin and leaving it wet as he tipped your head up to look at him. He was prompting you to repeat yourself, and you licked at your lips, smiling at him a little as you tried to steady yourself. “I wasn't to make you feel good.”

“Trust me, kitten, I always feel good.” There was a smirk on his face, and despite having no instruction to do so, you scratched your way lightly up his thigh until you were taking his cock in your hand, pumping him slowly. His jaw dropped, eyes fluttering to half-lidded when you squeezed, and he thrust lightly up into your hand to meet you. “Mhm, good girl, just like that.”

You grinned, hand shifting further down, and you took him back into your mouth. The hand in your hair loosened a little, going lax as he relaxed under your touch, eyes sliding closed as your mouth worked along his length, sinking further and further down with every bob of your head. When you no longer needed to pump him, reducing him to a grunting and moaning mess above you, your hands were finding his thighs, gripping on tightly enough to leave imprints of your nails in the solid muscle.

Your cheeks hollow, sucking along his length tightly, and the vein along the underside of his cock throbbed along your tongue as you flattened against hit, a moan echoing through you and vibrating along is length, the fingers in your hair twitching. “Touch yourself, baby.”

Your eyes snapped up, finding that at some point he had lifted his head to look down at you, brows raised, and he lifted one heavy arm to brush the hair back out of your face, gathering a more competent ponytail out of your hair, a firmer grip, and he began to control the speeds of your movements once again. You adjusted yourself, legs widening when his foot tapped against the insides of your knees, and your hand slipped down to prod at your folds.

You moaned around him once again as your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, his hips bucked up and into your face and making you gag around his length, and he nodded approvingly as he watched you begin to please yourself. Working slow circles over the nub, electricity shot through your body, and you let him guide your head slurping and sucking at his cock, wet and filthy as you pleasured him, and the sounds he was making above you were enough to fuel your own bliss.

Working your fingers in tandem with the pace of his bobbing, the feelings racing through your veins was enough to dull the ache in your jaw and hide the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks as he tapped continuously at the back of your throat. Wetness was building up, slick pools within the cotton of your panties that were making it hard for you to move as the material restricted you, and you whined at the lack of available options, wanting more but unable to obtain it.

“As much as I love getting to watch you swallow everything I give you, that’s not right now. I want to fuck you first, kitten. Get up here.”

As he pulled you off of his cock, your head tipped back to face upwards, strings of saliva snapping as his shining cock pointed upwards, angry and red and needy for a climax, and you took gasping breaths, clambering to your feet on shaking legs as he supported you. Hooking his fingers into your panties, he snapped the elastic against your skin, and you grinned, turning in his hold and ignoring the huff he made, because he was moaning loudly a second later.

Pressing up and into him, you bent at the waist as you dragged them down your legs, wet core rubbing along the length of his cock, and he gripped at your hips, one hand smoothing across your back halfway through standing up, keeping you bent over. “Y’know, I was going to do this romantically. Fuck you real good, wrap you around me, kiss you while you came. But now, I think I want you on your hands and knees.”

He placed a rough spank to both sides of your ass, a cry sounding from you before he was pushing you toward the bed, and you stumbled a little, kicking off the panties wrapped around your ankles to be able to crawl back onto the bed. The mattress dipped underneath his weight as he crawled up onto the space behind you, groping at your ass, the head of his cock sliding through your folds and gathering in your wetness.

He lined himself up, cock stretching your entrance as he sank into you, and your forehead dropped down to your folded arms, a loud whine of his name being all that sounded out into the room to accompany the dragged out sound he was making, pleasure surging through him.

As soon as he was fully encased within your walls, he gave you a moment to adjust, and when you were ready, you began to rock your hips back into him. It was slow movements at first, rocking your hips into him, small circles as you adjusted. His large girth always required you having a minute to acclimate, and he was more than happy to waist, but by the flexing of his hands on your waist, you could tell he was scarcely holding himself back from going wild.

“You can go. Please, Mitch, I need it.”

He chuckled, pulling back almost entirely out of you, setting a slow and steady rhythm. “I know you do, sweetheart, I can feel it. You’re clenching around me so tight.” Your walls fluttered at his swords, the raspy voice in which he praised you was enough to make you whimper, sounds muffled as you bit down on your lower lip, and he tutted. “Did I tell you to be quiet? You know how much I love to hear all those pretty noises you make.”

He pinched your side, making you squeak a little, before a hand was wrapping around your middle, and pulling you up until your back was pressed to his chest. Fingers spreading out wide over your stomach, the other slipped up to your throat, pressure being applied lightly, and the rhythm of his hips was becoming more aggressive and deep with every second that passed. You were squeezing around him, every roll of his hips that slammed into you with enough force to drag against your sweet spot made broken calls of his name sound out.

“If you want to be quiet, though, maybe I’ll keep you quiet, huh?” His fingers tightened, squeezing enough to make your vision spot, and you cried out his name, but it was barely a whisper when it was voiced.

You tried to move back into him, meet his pace, but he was slamming his length in and out of you with motions that you couldn't keep up with. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, no thoughts able to be processed as the inside of your head was chanting a mantra of his name, alongside begs and please that you weren't even sure what for.

Reaching a hand up behind you, you held onto him, hand in his hair and tugging, until you could twist your head to catch his lips. It was a messy and rough kiss, all tongues and teeth, pent-up need and pure love shining through as the two of you fucked your way right through your connection. You almost missed the hand on your stomach slipping lower, until he was rubbing uneven and jagged patterns onto your clit, your entire body jerking as you crashed into your orgasm.

He choked on his breath, biting down roughly on your lip as you clamped around him, and the peak caught you both off-guard. You Cried out, both in pleasure and pain, and he released your lip from his touch, licking soothingly over the patch and whispering an apology into your mouth while his eyes rolled in his head. Your foreheads were pressed together, and when you became too weak to hold yourself up anymore, your body dropped forwards.

Your cheek pressed to the mattress, and he followed after you, one hand beside your head curling in the sheets as the other held onto you with a vice-like grip, sloppy pounding and erratic thrusts making you claw at the bedding. The overstimulation was too much, and tears were once again finding your eyes. Those screams you’d denied yourself earlier were coming to claim you in full ails now, his name a loud sob on your lips as the coil in your stomach continued to wind up, fire burning over you.

Your entire body was sparking with energy, and as he stiffened above you, pulling himself out, you collapsed down into the bed. You were still twitching, body hanging on the precipice of your second climax, and you were granted it only moments later.

Two fingers, slamming into you without warning, pumping so quickly that stars flashed behind your eyes, and your throat was raw with the sudden scream that you let out. Our legs thrashed, arms cramping and knuckles aching with how hard you gripped into the bedding, riding through your peak on his hand.

“Mitch! Hold on!”

“Again.” He hissed, giving you only a seconds reprieve as he flipped you over, a hand on your stomach to hold your hips down, wet fingers finding your weeping hole again, and your cheeks were stinging with tears as a pleasure so strong began to wash over you that you forgot how to even breathe. “Are you going to come? You are, I can feel it, walls like velvet grippin’ me so tight.”

“Please!”

“Please what, kitten? You want my cock, that how you want to come? Want me to fill you up, fuck this pretty little pussy full of cum, huh?” You let out a ragged moan at his words, barely able to nod your head, and he pulled his fingers back, hands spreading over your thighs to push our legs apart, settled back into the dip and sinking his cock back inside of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, his hand trapped between your body as his fingers, soaked with your arousal stayed nestled against your bud, rubbing frantic circles onto it as you ascended into the clouds.

“Oh, fuck, Mitch!” With a final shout, you came, the bedsheets around you soaking as you gushed, hips bucking up wildly and body spasming in the bed, his form crushing you as he found his own high. Bliss was encasing you both, a bubble that only the pair of you existed within, and as ropes of hot cum filled you, he collapsed down on top of you.

He licked at your earlobe, lips brushing your ear and you shuddered, whimpering at the electric racing through your body from the action, your fingertips tingling, and he was still sitting snugly within your walls, throbbing and leaking with the aftermath. “I love you too, kitten.”

Your heart beat strongly, arms wrapping around him as you laughed weakly, catching his lips in a light kiss. It was gentle, just enough to confirm everything that had been shared between you both, before the sticky and wet feelings around you both were growing uncomfortable. He lifted you up, your body shaking as he slipped out of you, an ache that you were accustomed to taking place, and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder before standing up. He offered you his hands, helping you to stand too, and your knees almost gave out on you as you peeled yourself away from the sodden covers, the remnants of your final orgasm still dripping down your thighs.

“Go clean yourself up, baby doll, I’ll grab you some clothes.” Heat flushed along your body as something thicker than your own cum was leaking along your skin, smearing between your thighs with every small step you took, and you could hear mitch shuffling in the bedroom. The wooden floors were cold under your foot, every foot chilling you back down a little more, shivering a little with goosebumps, and your body was relieved to sit back down as you reached for the paper roll, cleaning yourself up and slumping into the seat.

Washing your hands and smoothing down your hair, you felt considerably cleaner, almost as though you were drunk as you continued to float through the skies on the high that being with your fiancé had given you. When you returned, still a little wobbly but much more stable, he had stripped the bedding and replaced it, a more Christmassy set than before laid out in its place, and he had pulled on some clothes.

Padding his way over to you, you raised your arms lazily, letting him pull on a fresh set of clothes, before shimmying you into some pants, giggles and laughs muffled between kisses and gasps when you stumbled, before finally, you were cosy and dressed again.

“That was awesome.”

“Bet your cute little ass it was.” His hand found yours, tugging you along behind him and into the corridors, the smell of the meal that was being made for the two of you floating around, and you let out a groan as yous stomach rumbled. The scent grew stronger as you moved through the house, enticing you deeper and deeper, and you stood beside him as he began to check everything over, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I had a thought about the wedding.”

“You could sound more optimistic about that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and pecking your lips in confirmation. “I can’t wait to marry you, love. You know that, I’m just not sure how you’ll react. I know you’ve been looking into places for the wedding, and we’ve gone to look at a few venues, but none of them really felt right. Right?” You hummed, eyes narrowing to him a little, and he busied himself with poking at the turkey to check whether it was done, nudging the over door closed again. “Well, what if we had it here?”

“Like, the farmhouse here? Because it’s kinda’ in shambles at the moment. A lot of work left to be done.”

“Well, yes and no.” He sighed, still avoiding your eye a little, and you tried to shuffle a little closer towards him as he worked. “Not in the farmhouse, but what if we had a summer wedding? Something simple. We could have it outside, picnic benches in the fields when they fill up with daisies and dandelions. You’ve sent me some pretty pictures of those fields before. We could do it picnic style.”

His voice trailed off a little as he spoke, and you could tell he was beginning to doubt himself, and so you pressed up behind him, arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to the patch between his shoulder blades, feeling him relax a little under your hold. “I love it.”

“You do?”

“You’ve let me make every decision about our wedding, our house, and our future so far. You deserve an equal say, and if you want a picnic-style wedding on the farm, then that's what we’ll do. I think it sounds lovely.” He twisted to face you, hands holding onto your cheeks and thumb smoothing over your skin, a stare fixed on you that felt as though he was boring into your soul.

“I just want us both to be happy. I don’t have an opinion on a lot of it, my interior design choices are limited to bunk beds and camo.” His joke made you scoff out a laugh, brushing your lips against his.

“That’s okay, soldier, I can make the tough choices on paint colours.” He rolled his eyes, closing the gap for only a moment, and you relished in the loving touch he held you with. “Oh, my bad. You’re my farmer, now.”

“That I am.” He mumbled, a few more shirt kisses pressed to your lips, before he was pushing you backwards. “Go choose a movie, I’ll plate us up some dinner.”

You lit up, and he seemed to see it sparkling in your eyes as his lips pursed. “No.”

“You said choose a movie!”

“I meant a Christmas movie! I’m not watching ‘The Mummy’ again this week.” Your arms folded over your chest at his words, a pout on your lips and he frowned, holding sting for only a few seconds before he was whining, turning away from you to reach for plates. “I know the whole script by heart now. I’m growing to hate that film.”

“Yeah, but you love me!” Your words were sung a little as you made your way through to the living room to load up the television, hearing him mumble his reply, words you couldn't really hear, but you knew he was only confirming your sentiments. As the Christmas lights twinkled, the fire still burning and in need of new logs, the television flickering to life as your soon-to-be husband served up dinner in the farmhouse kitchen, you knew there was no place you could possibly be that would make you any happier than right here.

#Mitch Rapp #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp x reader smut #mitch rapp/reader #mitch rapp/reader smut #mitch rapp American assassin #dylan obrien mitch rapp #dylan obrien american assassin #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #12 Days of AUmas

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language

Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

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Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?  

Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?

As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.

Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.

Jim had never felt like this before.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later...

Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.

“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.

“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.

“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.

Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.

“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.

“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”

Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.

“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.

“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”

Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”

As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”

“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.

Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”

Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”

Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.

Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”

Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”

Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.

“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”

“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.

Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.

~~~~~~~~

18th June 1966

The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.

The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.

Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.

As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.

This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.

“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.

Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.

His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her  pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.

It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.

Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.

Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.

“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.

“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”

Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.

“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.

“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.

Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.

“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”

Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”

Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”

“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”

“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”

Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.

“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.

“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.

“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.

“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.

Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”

“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”

“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”

“Four years, roughly.”

“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”

“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”

“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”

“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.

“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.

The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.

Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.

“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”

Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.

The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.

Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.

“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”

“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”

Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.

Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.

“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.

A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”

At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”

Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.

“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.

Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.

“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.

“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.

Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”

Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”

Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.

“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”

“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”

Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.

“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.

Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.

Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”

Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”

A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.

“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.

“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.

I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.

~~~~~~~~

After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.

The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.

“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”

Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”

Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.

“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.

Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”

“Who ended up telling you?”

“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.

“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”

“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.

“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.

“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”

Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”

“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.

“St. Alban’s. How about you?”

“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”

“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.

The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.

“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.

Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.

“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”

“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.

He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

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