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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Worth the Wait

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 9.2k

[ ☁︎, ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+) ] (v lowkey angst//fluff)

themes : virgin!Shouto, experienced!reader (well, more than Sho anyway lol), praise kink?, lil baby couples quarrel, make up sex, and also he’s kinda hung lmfao idk if that’s relevant 💀

bio : You can’t help but notice that every time things start to heat up with your Pro-Hero boyfriend, he shuts you down. After politely ignoring his initial rejections, your frustrations build up, and you decide to confront him.

author’s note : so this fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely astrid ( @todoscript ), who is becoming my cherished shouto confidante! we didn’t talk about it for very long, and it was awhile ago... but my brain would not move on so… this happened. i figured if i’m going to type so much about him i may as well write a fic. thanks for listening to my constant yelling, hope you enjoiii <3

side note : both shouto and reader are meant to be young adults in this fic!! i was thinking somewhere around 25-30 (i didn’t specify the age in the fic) but i thought i would make note of this as that’s considered “old” to still have your v-card, by American society at least (hence why sho kept that info from reader)

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he first time it happened, you tried to play it off as if you hadn’t made a move.

The last few of your friends had finally departed from the Saturday game night you had thrown, leaving just you, Shouto, and the slow, hot tango of your tongues. You hadn’t seen each other all week— with him being busy with his hero work, and you being busy with your comparatively-mundane job, you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked. Although it was an obstacle for your relationship, you were both young adults as well as devoted professionals, which allowed the two of you to remain on the same page most of the time. It was typical for you to text and call one another for a few hours after work (granted you both had the time to spare) before passing out mid-conversation, your phone screen still lit up and gentle snores exchanged through the speakers. But like any sane girlfriend, having him in person, right in front of you, was always your favorite.

What had started as a peck had quickly evolved into a full on make-out session— Shouto had pulled you halfway onto his lap when you tried to move back from your initially-stealthy kiss, an appreciative hum rumbling through him as his large hands cupped around your face. You didn’t fight him as he brought your lips back to his, and you failed to stop him when those very same hands began to glide down your back, parking just above your ass. His fingers had gradually started to fiddle with the tops of your jeans, thumb running over the denim and dipping down to graze against your skin through your thin blouse.

Yet when your hands slipped underneath the bottom of his shirt, he pulled back from you, heterochromatic eyes guarded as he removed your hands. You had immediately picked up on his reluctance, and threw yourself off of him onto the other side of the couch, embarrassment scorching the back of your neck. Shouto left not long after that, for you had made up some lousy excuse that you were tired and would like to go to sleep, when sleep was really the opposite of your innermost desires.

This would have been all fine and good— because consent was consent after all, and you had no intentions of pushing him to do something he was uncomfortable with— had the same thing not happened just two weeks later. There you were thinking it would be a cute, coupley evening of watching movies and tossing popcorn at each other, resting your head against his shoulder and being content with just that— when then all of the sudden he was pinning you onto the sheets and kissing you til you couldn’t breathe. His hands, once again, wandered all over your clothed torso, palms mapping out each dip and curve as his tongue entertained yours in your mouth.

You were hesitant to kiss him at first, recalling how you had horrifically killed the mood last time, but as his advances became more passionate, you slowly allowed your defenses to slip back, excitement building inside of you. It was only when your legs tightened around his waist, your core brushing up along his thigh and causing you to let out the softest moan did he pull back. That same calm, cool expression was on his face, though his eyes were a bit wider than usual. There was also the tiniest hint of pink dusting his pale cheeks, his lips parted as he gathered himself. It was rather awkward after that— neither of you really knew what to say— so you crawled back to your spot and sat in silence for the rest of the movie, your hands eventually wandering out to hold onto each other. After sharing a soft kiss and exchanging “goodnight”s, you returned to your place, ready for an extra long appointment with your vibrator.

Unfortunately for you, this became a common occurrence. It wasn’t that you hated the steamy make-out sessions with your as-hot-as-they-come boyfriend, no— you thoroughly enjoyed them. The part that you absolutely loathed was returning to your place with your panties soaked all the way through, your sexual frustration meter only climbing higher and higher.

You loved your boyfriend! And of course you respected his wishes. You would wait for however long he wanted, because you wanted your first time together to be special. But fuck, did he have to heat you up just to leave you hanging every time? If he wanted to wait, then fine! But, God, what had you done to deserve this torture? You couldn’t get past first base— you’d never even rubbed your body erotically against his except for that time on his bed, and that was by accident!

And that was what you told the ladies during your Thursday night all-girl conference call, finally needing to vent and get this selfish feeling off your chest. It had been a long time coming, quietly brewing over the many instances of him stunting your advances that you came to a realization.

Enough was enough! You were going to ask him why he wouldn’t go any further with you, and whatever his answer may be, at least you would know what he was thinking! You felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, the girls cheering you on and wishing you luck as you said goodbye, ready to confront him.

— - — - — - — - —

Now that you’re standing here in front of his door, it seems like a foolish plan you’ve made. Your heart is beating out of your chest, thumping frantically against your ribcage as your fist is frozen in the air, knuckle about to connect with the door. Your stomach feels tight and low, throat dry with apprehension as your brain runs through every possible outcome. What would he say once you ask him your question?

Perhaps your breath stinks and it turns him off? Or maybe he doesn’t like the perfume you wear— or is it the way you dress that he doesn’t like? What if the reason he always stops you… is because he’s not sexually attracted to you?

Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him pop a boner during your tongue wrestling matches, and the realization nearly causes your soul to leave your body. Even though the thought horrifies you, you try your best to reassure yourself that’s not the case. You had caught Shouto checking you out on multiple occasions, his eyes igniting a delicious heat on your skin. Whatever the case, you’re in this too deep to chicken out now. So with that, you let your knuckles rap on the door, steeling your nerves.

There’s a moment of quiet shuffling before your boyfriend opens the door, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. His hair is wet and freshly washed, shining droplets collecting at the ends and making him appear even more handsome than usual. The gray tee thrown over his broad shoulders has damp spots from the runoff, and you take a second to admire the way his chest looks in the clingy material. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice alone causing goosebumps to rise along your forearms.

You allow him to guide you into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him quietly. “Hi Sho,” you greet back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him.

Shouto chuckles against your eager lips, long arms gathering you into his chest. When he pulls away, he tucks your head underneath his chin, placing another kiss on your crown. “I missed you.”

Your heart throbs, happiness surging through you and butterflies bursting into your stomach. “I missed you more,” you reply playfully, burying your face between his broad pecs and inhaling his warm, wintery scent. The smell of fresh detergent lingers on the fabric, mixing with his clean aroma and making your tummy flip in circles.

“Impossible,” Shouto quips back, holding your waist tight as he dips you backwards just enough for your feet to leave the ground before he presses his lips to yours again, rendering you breathless. He pulls you back upright after a moment, a cheeky smirk on his face as you try to remember what you were talking about before. “Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Following his instruction, you move further into his apartment, gravitating toward the couch and inspecting the files laid out on the coffee table before you. The words blur together for you, the foreign hero work forms long and in what might as well be another language. You lean back onto the cushions as Shouto returns, a glass of water in his hand. Frost forms on the glass as he hands it to you, taking a seat beside you with his knee brushing against yours. You smile at his consideration, taking a small sip even though you’re not really thirsty.

“Was there something you came over here for specifically, love? Forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but I don’t believe we had plans?” He’s looking directly at you, eyes locked with yours as his hand comes to land on the top of your knee. Even just an innocent movement like that has you on alert, your breath catching in your throat as he gives a gentle squeeze.

“Uh… no reason,” you answer lamely, crumbling under the pressure of his watchful eyes. “Just wanted to see you.”

Shouto’s gaze lingers on you carefully, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in a trap. But he lets it go, his lips forming a soft smile as he lays his arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m glad to see you too,” he replies honestly. His fingers caress your arm as his hand falls down to your waist, and he leans in to press another kiss to your cheek. You lean into his affection, mouth curving in content. “So, what would you like to do?” Shouto asks as he shuffles the files away into their manilla envelopes, creating a neat pile in the far corner of the table. He leans back into the cushions, fingers fondly stroking at your side. “We could go out to eat? We could try this new bar afterwards, too, it’s across from my agency. If you’re alright to go out.”

You can’t focus on his words, really— you’re too lost in your own thoughts. Why does he have to touch you like this every time, when if you act on it, he’ll only push you away? You’ve been together for a long while now, and still, he doesn’t take initiative to further your relationship. Every bone you’ve thrown his way has been perfectly deflected, with no sign of weariness from him. If he doesn’t want you, is it because he’s not into you anymore?

An ugly thought rears its head in the midst of your anxiety’s dark clouds.

Maybe he never was.

Taking your silence as an answer, Shouto continues on, looking towards the kitchen over his shoulder. “Or we could buy groceries and make dinner. I think I have bok choy in the fridge, but we’ll have to buy some meat. And noodles, if you want those instead of rice. I’m sure I have that sesame sauce you like, I—” He pauses as you grab his hand, your fingers looping tight around his warm palm, sliding them to rest on your thigh.

With the summer just fading into fall, you were wearing something to showcase the smooth expanse of your thighs, and as you guide his hand to touch your soft skin, a delicate blush blooms across Shouto’s cheeks. The flustered expression on his face only goads you on, and you lean in to capture his lips.

A muffled noise escapes him, your hand coming up to touch his jaw and rub your thumb against his chin. It only takes him a moment to recalibrate before his free hand rises and copies your actions, gliding down the back of your neck before pulling your face closer to his.

You run your tongue against the seam of his mouth, and he swiftly grants you access as his lips move to follow yours. He tastes like mint and sweet herbs, the tea he was entertaining before you came lingering on his tongue. His hand slips out of yours to curl around your waist, grabbing onto your hip and squeezing. As your kisses start getting heavier and slower, your once-occupied hand moves to land on his chest, your thumb pushing into the tender muscle located there. His flesh jumps beneath your touch, but he allows you to continue groping at him through his shirt, his own hands beginning to knead at you. Before you know it, your knee swings over his thighs and you’re hovering on top of his lap, not sitting down on him just yet as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

You can notice the change— you’ve faced this exact scenario many times before. Shouto’s hands freeze up, locking into their current position, and he only returns your passionate kisses, not allowing his body much more movement than that. You try to just keep kissing him, but all the doubts and fears quickly pile up inside of you, and you pull away from him. You can’t even look at him. You’re too scared to speak, and too reluctant to get off of him, only leaning back to create a divide between his face and yours. Trying to hide your face before he can see your defeated expression, you dive into his chest, arms folding tight around his neck.

Shouto’s still frozen in place, but he seems to sense your distress. His arms slowly circle around your waist, fingers moving to trace up and down your spine. He softly exhales against your hair, letting out the breath he was holding in ever since you swung onto his lap. “Y/N? Are you alright?” he asks quietly after a brief pause, his voice soft and low, soothing to your wary ears. “You haven’t been acting like yourself today…”

After a long pause, you sigh, trying your best not to get emotional. “It’s just…” I’m so fucking attracted to you but you won’t let me touch you, you want to say, but you’re too terrified to say it aloud. What can you even say to him that would be better than that?

Shouto’s arms around you squeeze gently, indicating his patience in awaiting your answer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing over your ear and placing a discreet kiss there. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

You let out a soft sniffle and Shouto pulls you tighter into his chest, his heart cracking at your sound of sadness. But his words bring a surprising amount of comfort to you, and you clear your throat before you lean back again, looking into his two-toned irises. His gaze is sympathetic, his eyes holding a visible amount of affection and support. “Well, I…”

He nods slightly, leaning forward to show his encouragement. “Go ahead, love…”

“Are… Are you attracted to me?”

It comes out more high-pitched than you would’ve liked, but at least it’s out— and he definitely heard you, judging from the wide-eyed shock painted across his face.

“Am I— What?” He stutters, his head tilting automatically in confusion. “I— of course I’m attracted to you, I’m… you’re my girlfriend.” Shouto looks at you incredulously, his arms falling to his side so that only his hands remain on your hips. “You’re the most attractive person I know, love. You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” he elaborates. “The whole package.”

His compliments butter you up, a small smile forming on your lips as you shyly look to your hands folded in your lap. “Not the whole package…” you mumble, squirming slightly as his hands come to hold either side of your face.

“Yes, the whole package,” he insists, nuzzling your nose against his. “Beautiful,” he declares as he kisses your cheek.

“Kind.” A smooch to the other cheek.

Your heart beats excitedly in your chest, thumping loudly against your ribs with each compliment.

“Courageous.” A kiss to the chin.

“Witty.” A peck to the forehead.

“Sexy?” you blurt it out just as he swoops in to press his lips to yours.

Shouto falters, pulling back just a hair as he looks at you in shock. “S-Sexy?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but by the way his cheeks and ears are tinged a bright pink, it’s clear your suggestion was a bit too much for him.

The way he stutters out the adjective in confusion has your heart tearing in two. “Y-You don’t…?”

You’re staring directly at him, his wide eyes locked with yours and his body frozen to the couch. His lips are slightly parted, but no words come out of him.

Silence.

This is not how you want this conversation to go— you aren’t prepared for it to go like this. The tears you had successfully fought off before come back with vengeance.

Only once Shouto sees you hang your head in embarrassment, your eyes getting glassier by the second, he springs into action. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he starts to speak, sounding more worried by the second. His hand goes to cup your face, the warmth of his quirk evident in his touch as his finger dries over a fresh track of tears on your cheek. “I… of course I think you’re sexy, love. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise… You don’t think I know how sexy you are?”

You can only reply with a lame shrug, unwilling to let his eyes meet yours as you hide your face behind your curtain of hair. You try to slide off his lap, ready to retreat to the bathroom and wipe away your pathetic tears, but Shouto doesn’t let you move away from him, his arms locking tight around your waist and forcing you to lean against his chest.

“Talk to me, baby,” he pleads, nuzzling into the side of your face. His voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard before, and you hate to admit your stomach is doing cartwheels at how sweet he’s being. “I love you no matter what, and I hate to see you so upset. I’m not good at figuring these things out on my own, just tell me what’s wrong, love. Please?”

He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, his fingers massaging your stiff muscles as you cling onto him. Once you’re confident enough to speak, your words come out barely loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just that… whenever I think we’re about to take it to the next level, you pull away. I want to respect your boundaries, Sho, but I can’t help but feel like it’s because you don’t… want me.” The hands on your body still at that, your boyfriend taking in a sharp breath as you pause, then decide to continue. “I’m just… so attracted to you, Shouto… I want to be mindful of your limits, but I can’t help but want to touch you all the time. I’m— I’m sorry if that sounds indecent.”

Shouto murmurs your name lowly against your ear, his large palm once again rubbing over your spine in an effort to comfort you as he tries to piece together the correct words. “This is… a terrible miscommunication, and it’s all my fault...” he sighs, his voice dropping lower and becoming quieter, his insecurities leaking into his voice. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel like this… I promise that’s not the case.”

His words are enough to numb your worries, and you lean back so you’re able to look him in the eye as you wait for him to continue. He takes a deep breath before he sighs again, knowing he has to tell you the truth now, but worrying that he’s about to ruin everything the two of you have built over these past months.

“The reason that I push you away every time is… well, I—” he gulps nervously, and it’s your turn to look at him with encouragement. You take one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as he tries to find the best way to explain his reasoning. “It’s not because you’re unattractive, it’s— I mean, if anything, you’re too… too attractive, and I get…” he trails off, his cheeks now a bright shade of pink that you’ve never really seen before. It’s the first time you’ve seen the usually collected man so flustered, and a part of you feels guilty for causing him such discomfort. Just as you’re about to cut in and tell him he doesn’t have to continue, he does. “I… I’ve never been with anyone… like that before.”

You blink at him in confusion.

Shouto just seems to get even pinker, and he quickly starts explaining himself as he takes in your dazed expression. “I know you probably thought I had all this experience because I’ve been a top Hero for some time now, but I just— I never met anyone before that cared about me like this and I just never wanted to do— well, to do that with a stranger.”

“You’re… a virgin?”

Shouto’s red at this point, his hot side nearly catching fire as he buries his face behind his hand, too embarrassed to face you at this point. “Yes, I’m sorry to disappoint you, love. I just… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I— I wanted to impress you so badly, Y/N. I… I should’ve told you this from the start, I’m so sorry to have caused you such doubt.”

His voice is just above a whisper now, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll get off his lap and walk straight out the front door at his confession. “Shouto…” You can’t stop the smile that begins to curl the corners of your mouth. This is the reason he wouldn’t go any further with you? Not because he didn’t find you attractive? Your heart feels heavy thumping against your ribcage, giddiness flooding your bloodstream.

Your boyfriend gapes at your smile, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not… disappointed?” At the instant shake of your head, his discomfort eases significantly. “R-Really? But everyone thinks I’m, well… kind of a womanizer I guess, I thought you’d at least expect—”

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “When have I ever given a shit about others’ expectations of you, Shouto? I love you for you, Sho… you make me so happy just as you are.”

Shouto melts at your words, a sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he crushes you to his chest. Your sweet scent fills his nose as he kisses the top of your head, and you bask in his touch as you hug him back. “You’re right, love, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I hate that you felt unwanted because of me. I promise, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about, I— I’m so attracted to you as well. I love you so much.”

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all the hurt and doubts that built over the last few months dissolving into the shadows. Only the light, warm feeling of your love is left behind, glowing brighter than ever before.

Shouto’s fingers crawl up the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips before you allow him entrance. Your fingers push into his silky hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and he groans at the action, letting your tongue take control and invade his mouth instead. Your breaths starting to become ragged, you both pull away for a moment to breathe. As you look into each others’ eyes, you both begin to laugh softly, the pair of you equally content with how your heart-to-heart had gone.

“So, you do think I’m sexy, then?” You smirk, pleased with this new knowledge.

Shouto chuckles, nudging your face to the side so he can place a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. “Is that all you got from that?” He teases, nipping at your skin playfully.

You close your eyes, enjoying how his love bites feel on your quickly-heating flesh. “One of a few things…” Your breathing becomes deeper as his lips begin to gently suck on the faded marks he’d just made. “Mmm, Sho~”

He hums as your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, tongue caressing the skin he’s sucked into his mouth. Your thighs twitch on either side of his lap when he pulls away, cold breath cooling the wet, darkened patch of skin on your throat. He swears under his breath as his hands trail down your waist to your hips, thumbs resting on the top of your bottoms.

“Would you, um… want to try something new, then?” You offer, sitting back to look him in the eye, ready to catch any amount of uncertainty in his two-toned gaze. But you find none, for he captures your lips again and nibbles on your bottom lip, another hum or approval vibrating against your mouth.

From there he hands the reins to you, opting to lean back into the cushions of the sofa as your tongue guides his in a slow embrace. Your palms both land on his chest, fingertips starting to massage the thick muscles underneath his t-shirt. Shouto sighs as your hands slide down his torso, and just as they dip underneath he sits up slightly, tearing the flimsy material over his head in one quick sweep. With the fabric out of your way, you try to keep yourself calm, your eyes now feasting on his broad, sculpted chest and abs. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth at the wonderful sight, your tongue poking out to wet your lips as you scan over his physique again and again.

Just as he’s about to make fun of your lustful stare, you move in to place a few light kisses to his jaw and neck, the action making him tense up and flex his gorgeous torso for you. Careful not to leave any marks on his throat, you make your way down his chest, taking a moment to leave a ring of wet smooches around his nipple. The muscles jump again for you, his body sensitive to your foreign touch as you slowly take the bud into your mouth, sucking just enough for him to squirm.

“That kind of… ahh, tickles,” Shouto mumbles as your tongue traces over his skin, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move to the other side of his chest and repeat the action. He sighs as you pull away, welcoming the kiss you place on his lips afterwards. His abs become rigid underneath the slow trail of your fingernails that move south, his eyes opening mid-way through the kiss as your hand grows closer and closer to his pelvis.

Just as he’s about to pull away, you move back from his mouth, your shirt flying over your head and onto the floor behind you. Shouto can barely breathe as he looks at your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your shoulders to your hips on display for him, save for the bra covering your chest. He’s fixated on the tops of your breasts, the round, smooth flesh mesmerizing him completely. Sure, he’s seen your cleavage before, but in comparison to this, that’s nothing.

“W-Wow…” he falters, struggling to tear his gaze off of them. There’s a little bow in the middle of the cloth contraption, and he can’t help but compare the sight before him to a present. Oh, how he wants to unwrap it…

You giggle at his awe-struck expression, your self-esteem soaring higher than it has in months. Just as you’re about to instruct him, he moves a hand to cup one side of your bra, his thumb running over your skin. A whimper escapes you when he squeezes you, his face moving closer so that the tip of his nose runs across your collarbone, his lips ghosting kisses across your chest. You wonder if he can feel your heart racing beneath his lips as they trace the cusp of your bra— how it races when he presses his face between your tits, inhaling the warm, clean smell of you that lingers there. “M-Mphhh, Sho…” you sigh as he sucks a hickey into your skin, his mouth pulling your flesh out from under the fabric cup.

Your hands fumble as they move behind your back to undo the clasp, but Shouto doesn’t have time for that, it seems. Instead, he opts to push the straps from your shoulders, tugging the bottom of the material down your ribs and completely exposing your chest to him without ever moving his mouth from your skin. You still manage to unclasp the confining material, letting it fall to the ground without a care. When he does finally let go of you, he moves back to examine your naked chest, his lower lip disappearing between his straight, white teeth. His eyes are half-lidded, and he dives straight back into your chest, circling around your areola with swift kisses and teasing licks, repeating the same process you had done to him. His warm mouth enveloping your nipple makes you let out a stifled cry, your hips jerking against his lap on their own accord.

Shouto moans at the movement, his hand gently squeezing your other breast as he sucks on the pert bud in his mouth, tongue swirling around it with ease. You reposition so your legs are on either side of one of his, placing your clothed core against the rough material of his jeans and beginning to move your hips in slow, wide movements. It only urges Shouto on, for he switches his attention to the other side of his chest and repeats the same ministrations there, one hand coming to cup your ass and move in tune with your slow gyrations.

At this point you can feel yourself leaking onto your panties, your excitement only multiplying as he allows you to grind against him. You’d never imagined he’d be so eager to touch you, after so much time of him rejecting your advances. But you couldn’t care about that now, with your pussy brushing all over his muscular thigh and his mouth attacking your bare chest. The thrill only increases further when you readjust your hips, moving closer to him and feeling the hardness of his erect cock tucked into the front of his pants. You can feel your cunt twitching around nothing, drooling even more for him as you rub yourself against his front, your head falling back as you start to pant.

Shouto whines at the friction, his face falling into the corner of your neck as he tries to gather himself. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? He sighs as he wonders what you look like completely naked— how you would look with your legs spread for him, wrapped around his skull, or better yet— his waist. The knowledge that you want him is too tempting— he can’t get enough of you, can’t stop himself from shoving his thumbs under the hem of your bottoms. And then you’re standing, letting your clothing hit the floor and leaving yourself exposed for his eyes, save for your panties which have another little bow at the front. His eyes travel up and down your legs— a part of you that has always attracted him, perhaps a bit too much. They look delicious presented like this before him, bare and inviting all along your calves and thighs, then leading to the panties that barely cover your hips. His cock twitches in his jeans as he inspects the marks he’d just made all across your chest, a possessive conscience inside of him murmuring its satisfaction.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you sink to your knees in front of the couch, looking up at him with cautious, yet lust-ridden eyes. The recognition of your desire makes his own appetite spike, and he nods his affirmation to you.

You smirk up at him, moving closer to him and sliding between his legs. He holds his breath as you start to kiss up his thigh, starting from the inside of his knee and moving your way toward your destination. Your hand reaches up to soothe down his chest, your other hand cupping the underside of his thigh and moving in sync with your mouth. Your fingers finally meet the button on his jeans, and he lets out the breath he was holding as you undo the metal zipper. He helps you peel the denim off his thighs, leaving the material bunched at his knees as you inspect his hard member through his tight, black boxer-briefs. You take a moment to thank whatever God there is for blessing you with such a nice cock; you can tell even through his underwear that he’s long, and thick.

The very tip pokes out of the band at the top, him having tucked it up at some point when the pair of you were initially making out. What you can see is dark pink and glazed with a pearlescent sheen of pre-cum, the material at the top of his briefs slightly damp. The legs on either side of you keep tensing and fidgeting, and as you reach a hand for his shaft his hips shift backwards, away from your touch.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, stroking his thigh as you look up at him. His expression is guarded, but you can see the uncertainty that shines through his gaze, the mask that successfully keeps others out futile to you. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s okay if we stop here, baby.” You push yourself to sit taller using the tops of his knees, placing a long kiss to his cheek and giving him a nuzzle of understanding.

Shouto frowns, leaning into you and taking a deep breath. “No, I want to… I just, I guess I’m a little nervous? I’m not quite sure what to do…” he explains, unsure of himself.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reply, kissing his cheek again as you continue. “Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, gonna make you feel so good. Let me know if you want to stop at any time, alright?”

He smiles at your understanding, nodding and verbalizing an “Alright” before you capture his lips with yours. You kiss him with all the passion you can muster, and it distracts him enough to relax into the couch cushions, your hand coming up to cup his sharp jawline. Your tongues are busy tangling together when your hand lands on his abs, which jump under your touch but eventually they, too, relax after a few minutes.

When your fingers wrap around his cock through his briefs, he tenses underneath you again, his hips pushing toward you as your hand starts to move up and down. Shouto makes a muffled noise as your hand finds a steady, torturously slow rhythm, your hand squeezing around his thick shaft through the dark, cotton material. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling slightly. You move your hand in accordance with the muffled sounds that escape him through your kiss, his hushed moans adding fuel to the inferno in your stomach.

After a few minutes of your slow, over-the-briefs handjob, you move back from his searing kiss, a string of saliva extending between your mouths. Your eyes lock with his, intensity sizzling as you both move the briefs off his legs, his cock springing upright in the bottom field of your vision. His length jumps when your fingers brush against the tip, gathering the silvery slickness of his pre-cum and using it to coast your fist down around his shaft, squeezing just enough to create a pleasant tightness around him.

Shouto swears as you start to jerk your fist around his thickness, your smaller hand creating a different sensation and much more appealing visual than the sight of his own fingers wrapped around himself. He moans when your hand glides over the head of his cock, his grip tightening on your hair as his eyelids flutter closed. You kiss his cheek again, catching his attention as he turns to you and allows your tongue to enter his mouth. You take all the whimpers pouring from his lips and greedily swallow them, your lips dancing with his in tune with your strokes.

Slowly you move away from his face, his lips following yours until you gently push him back to rest against the back of the sofa again. He allows you to move him backwards, heaving for air as your hot and heavy kisses leave him breathless. Once you lower your face to his lap, he tenses up, although his hips shuffle forward eagerly. You make sure to lock eyes with him as you move your mouth towards the flushed head of his cock, and you keep his gaze steady as your lips wrap around the very tip of him.

“S-Shit Y/N,” he gasps, watching as his member gradually disappears into your mouth. You glide your lips down his thick length slowly, trying not to overwhelm him as you start to suck on the tip, your hand beginning to jerk his shaft at the same time. When your lips move down, so does your hand, and as Shouto becomes accustomed to the wet, tight heat of your mouth, you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, until the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Shouto throws his head back onto the top of the cushions, a hand pushing his hair off his forehead and backwards as he loudly voices his pleasure in a cacophony of moans.

The noises that slither out of the man underneath you are delicious, and you can’t seem to get enough as your pace begins to pick up. Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his length, his cock too big to fit all the way in your throat, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to take him anyways. Pulling back just long enough to take in a breath of fresh air, you smile at his wrecked expression above you, tongue tracing over your lips. “Mmm, does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I suck your cock like this?”

“Ahhaaaa, fuck— y-yeah, like that, baby… yesyesyes you feel so good,” Shouto blabbers nearly incoherently as your throat glides around his aching member. Given his stuttered response, you happily service him, content to finally have him at your disposal. His length is too impressive to comfortably fit in your mouth, your jaw stretching to accommodate him as you swallow around him, successfully stealing a broken gasp from him in response. You close your eyes and allow yourself to focus on keeping a steady rhythm for both your mouth and hand to follow. His moans just keep getting louder, a breathless array of oh, fuck, shit, yeah, ahh, and yeses with every bob of your head.

As you’re diligently sucking him off, Shouto is barely keeping it together underneath you. His cock is twitching and leaking pre-cum down your throat, his balls heavy with the need to release. He watches your lips move up and down his length, your hand following suit at the very base. His mind wanders as he wonders where you want him to finish; inside your mouth, on your tits, on your face? He groans as he pictures all three, imagining you covered in his sticky seed, wherever it may end up, has him feeling close much too quick. But he can’t stop himself, and he can’t bring himself to stop you, either— you feel so fucking good on his cock. You’re better than he ever could imagine, and it’s just your mouth that’s wrapped around him— he can’t even imagine how between your legs will feel. He barely manages to mumble your name in warning as he feels his climax coming, too charged for him to do anything to stop it.

Luckily you already know he’s about to finish, for his muscles tighten up and strain as ample warning for his imminent release. You move your lips down his cock, taking in as much as you can before he’s calling out your name and shooting a thick, heavy load down your throat. You choke on his release, not much room in your mouth to begin with, with how long and thick he is already. He’s still gushing cum as you pull off of him, a few ropes of white spraying across your lips and chin while his body shakes in ecstasy.

You sit back and wipe his release off your face with your wet hand, licking the excess off your skin as you watch Shouto’s soul return to his body. He’s struggling to catch his breath, eyes barely open as he looks down at you sitting between his legs. Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he still gathers your arms in his hands, pulling you up onto the sofa to hover over his lap. He sighs as he nuzzles his face into your neck, your soft skin helping to draw him back from the euphoric heaven you had just sent him to. His arms wrapping around you loosely, he starts to kiss your neck, his long eyelashes tickling your jaw as he showers your skin in affection. His attention makes butterflies flap around inside your stomach, and that scorching heat ignites again as his fingers slide down your waist to the band of your panties.

You try to draw back to look at him, but Shouto’s grip on you is too secure, and he won’t let you pull away from him as he just nuzzles deeper into your neck. You can’t help but gasp when his fingers dive underneath the sides of your panties— his palms gliding against your bare hips and digits splaying across your ass. “S-Sho,” you whine as he cups your ass cheeks, pulling your hips to slot above his, his cock already erect again. You whimper when he guides you closer to him, the very tip of his cock catching at just the right angle to brush against the wet patch on your underwear. Hell, the whole underside of your panties is soaked with your arousal, your pussy probably more saturated than ever before. You’re so turned on, you can’t think straight as your hips begin to weakly shift back and forth, rubbing his cockhead along your clothed slit.

Shouto sighs as his hand recedes from your panties, instead moving to rub your dripping slit through the drenched material. You moan at the feeling of his hand through the fabric, your slick in such quantity that when he pulls his hand away, a thick string of your arousal trails after his fingers. He groans at the sight, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to test the viscosity. He makes a mental note that this must be what’s meant when one has a “wap”, or “wet ass pussy”, as he recalls from a certain song. His heart is racing in his chest, the discovery of your cunt so ready for him only making his cock strain harder against your sopping panties.

“So wet…” Shouto mumbles as he touches you again, cupping your core through your underwear and rubbing his palm against your clit. He watches intently as your face contorts in pleasure, and he rolls his palm against your front again experimentally, making a mental note of your increased sensitivity there.

Before he moves any further though, he presses his lips to yours in an intense kiss, successfully distracting you as he slides your underwear to the side. He can feel your pussy twitch and contract against his hand when he lines the tips of two fingers up with the hole that your slick is pouring out of. And he can definitely feel you spasm around him as he slides the digits inside with ease, remembering to curl the tips of them just as the countless guides and videos he had watched in preparation for such activities suggested.

“Y-Yes, ahh my God, Sho—” you gasp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around the fingers.

His long digits slowly move in and out of you, the tips curling into your spongy walls as they sheath inside you completely. You moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, moving a hand to your front to rub your clit. It’s not long before you’re humping his hand, your arousal leaking onto his palm as you seat your hips back and forth on his fingers. Your mouth is hanging open, intense pleasure emanating from his fingertips rubbing that gummy spot located just deep enough for your fingers to be too short to reach. You can feel your orgasm building with each roll of the hips, a slow and steady escalation toward certain ecstasy.

Shouto moans along with you, watching the look of bliss on your face each time you sit back onto his fingers, and committing it to memory. You look absolutely captivating getting off on his hand, but the urge to feel you wrapped around his cock is too strong to ignore. He pulls his hand out of your cunt, watching as the syrupy slick trails after his fingers before severing, the warm, slimy wetness returning to your spread pussy. The sight is too enticing to just look at— he grabs his cock and jerks himself a few times, watching your slick spread across his length. It feels unlike any other lubricant he’s used— spit, lotion, shampoo all nothing in comparison to the sweet nectar your body produces just for him— simply divine.

If he thinks that’s divine, pressing his cock into you is as if the gates of heaven have been exploded open with dynamite, drowning him in a pool of ethereal ambrosia that he never wants to escape. Your walls stretch around his girth and hug him like never before; it’s wetter, tighter, and hotter than anything he’s ever imagined, and if he hadn’t already cum from your mouth just minutes before, he’s sure he would’ve cum right here and now.

You’re just about there, only a third of his cock managing to push into you before your walls start to clamp, that tension in your abdomen intensifying at an alarming rate. You throw your head back and moan unabashedly as his cock glides into you entirely in one movement, your cunt wringing snug around him as you cum. You’d be ashamed if it were with anyone else, but Shouto’s so thick and long that you just let yourself ride out your orgasm, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him tight. It feels like a religious experience cumming on his cock— he’s by far the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it’s been so long since you’ve had sex in the first place that you’re too turned on to care. A fresh wave of slick begins to leak from deep inside you, the aftermath of your abrupt orgasm coming in handy as you finally come-to enough to move your hips.

Shouto’s holding onto you for dear life at this point, knuckles white as his fingers dig bruises into your hips. He’s never been squeezed so tight before— never felt anything like your pussy, like you cumming on his cock. And even though he’s overwhelmed with the mesmerizing feeling, he still manages to keep his cool somehow, now evening his breath as he begins to thrust up into you. He decides he loves your moans— every noise you make from being impaled by his huge cock is music to his ears, a symphony he never wants to end.

“A-Ahaa ha, Shoutooo~” you cry, fireworks bursting across your nerves. “You’re so big, ah— it— it feels so gooood.”

You can’t seem to close your mouth— it’s too hard to focus on anything besides what might as well be his third leg thrusting into you over and over. His movements are relentless; never allowing you to come down from the high you’d been catapulted into with just one stroke of his cock. He’s so big inside of you, he’s probably the largest you can take while still feeling pleasure instead of pain. You feel like you’re the one losing your virginity here, not him— because, God have you never felt so filled to the brim in your life— his cock stretches and penetrates you so deliciously that you feel like any orgasm you’ve had before this doesn’t really count. It can’t count, can’t compare to this, to him.

Shouto is on the same page as you, desperately drilling into your sloppy cunt as if his life depends on it. It feels so good to be squeezed by your tight little hole, to have your fingernails dig crescent-moons into the skin on his shoulder blades, and hear your desperate cries for him. “Fuck, you— you feel so good, baby,” he pants, letting your pussy fall onto his lap and swallow his cock inside of you. “You’re so fucking sexy, y-yeah… so wet for me, so good for me.”

His praise causes a wave of goosebumps to rise across your skin, a burst of energy surging through you as you start to move your hips in sync with his thrusts. Shouto’s pace weakens as he lets you take control, sitting back and absorbing the pleasure that flows through his entire body at the quick snap of your hips. He feels like he’s in a trance as your hands move to grip the tops of his shoulders, leveraging yourself so your hips swing in a perfect arc that allows his cock to glide in and out of you completely. He watches as your hips swing back, the head of his cock slipping out of you halfway, only to be slurped back inside your tight heat all the way to the base.

Sweat is starting to accumulate and drip down your bodies, but neither of you are paying attention to that— Shouto reaches out and gropes your chest, fingers trapping your nipple and rolling it gently. You mewl at the sensation, your hips working even faster now, the dull ache of another climax forming in the pit of your stomach. You furiously hump his lap, your thrusts becoming off-beat and sloppy as your muscles scream with exertion. Frustration blooms in your heart— your stamina must have reduced in the past few months of abstinence.

“Sho, I’m… gonna cum again, fuck I’m so close,” you whine, pushing your ass onto his lap and stirring your guts with his cock as you swivel your hips.

Shouto hums at your confession, an arm winding around your hips and his hand landing on the plush underside of your thigh. His fingers dig into your flesh as he supports your body with his arm, his hips rutting up into yours with force. Each thrust has stars dancing along the borders of your vision, the power behind his hips much stronger than your desperate humping from before.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock again, Y/N,” Shouto moans, tongue poking out to flick against your nipple, your tits in his face due to the change of position. “Want you to squeeze me and milk everything out of me, y-yeah…”

You nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with vigor as those two-toned eyes bore into yours. The surprise quickly morphs into bliss, your cunt wringing around his length as you feel yourself hurtle toward your orgasm for the second time. It’s not long before you’re there, ecstasy rushing through your entirety as you clutch onto him tightly, your toes curling and body shaking from the rush.

“Fuck,” he swears, both hands moving to grab your hips and pound his cock into your quivering cunt, delivering another level of pleasure to your orgasm. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes darting between your face and your wet pussy that keeps swallowing him whole. “Ahaah— c-cumming—”

Shouto lets out a loud groan as he pulls out of you, hot, white ribbons of cum spurting across your stomach as he climaxes. Your hand reaches down to jerk him off and he continues to paint your skin with his seed, his body shaking as his orgasm ripples through him. His throbbing length is slick with your love juices, making it easy for your fingers to slide around him.

His head hits the back of the couch as he releases the last of his load, chest heaving while he tries to collect himself. The devastating pleasure of your climax leaves your body feeling weightless and your brain loopy, and all you can do is lean against his athletic physique and catch your breath.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers seriously in your ear, fingers deftly playing with the ends of your hair. He means it; he feels like his heart is so full of happiness, and he’s so comfortable basking in the afterglow of his orgasm with your naked skin on his.

You stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips. “So sweet~” you tease, cuddling your face into his neck as his hands rub the length of your back. “I love you too, Shouto.”

Shouto hums in content, arms hugging you tight against him for a brief moment before he relaxes again. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he confesses softly, nudging the side of your face with his nose. He can feel your lips turn into a grin against his chest, and he smiles at your content.

“You’re being so sappy right now,” you point out, unable to stop smiling as you turn to look at him. “I really like this side of you, I’m happy to see you like this.”

“I’m happy, too,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet and short kiss. “I kind of wish we did this sooner though…”

You laugh at that, and his soft smile turns into a grin that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “Mmm, I think it was worth the wait,” you disagree, snuggling closer to him and rubbing your skin against his affectionately.

Shouto looks down at you resting against his chest, examining your blissful smile and eyes closed in content. Yes, he thinks.

You were worth the wait.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

wow that ended so soft pls excuse me im on my period and so emotional at the moment lmfaoooo... okokokok but post coitus snuggly sho is KILLING M E ... anywAYY lol let me know if you enjoyed!! this was kinda different from the usual smut i write so! i’d love any feedback i could get :)

as always, thanks for reading! 💗

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#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics

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happyselves · 3 years

Text

Disaster qualification ( A Portimao story ) { Daniel Ricciardo x reader }

You were searching for your best friend Daniel in the paddock and garage of Mclaren, but he was nowhere to be found, you even asked a mechanic and some journalist. It wasn't his kind to leave like that and he wasn't answering his phone, but after that terrible qualification where he didn't pass through Q1, you weren't surprised. He needed a break, he was feeling pressure and anxious and you never saw him like that before, of course he knew that he needed time to adapt his driving style adn himself to his new car to make it one ,but he was starting to feel depressed as it wasn't going as fast as he thought. That's a thing you like in Daniel, he will always have that competitive side in him even after 10 years doing the job. His determination was always there, but he needed things to go as he planned otherwise he was starting to doubt himself and everything was starting to go downhill. You knew that he needed just a little push, a little sign that he was doing something good and he was evolving or going in the right way, it was a matter of time but he was so stubborn and impatient.

After more than an hour of searching for him you find his engineer who told you that he was quiet the whole debrief and just mumbled a quick " I'm going back to the hotel ". So that's where he was, back in the hotel, probably at the gym hitting the frustration away on some punching ball perhaps. His engineer asked you if you wanted to take the ride to go back to the hotel with them since he left you all alone in the paddock. You couldn't believe he let you there, even Michael. You needed to have a talk with him too after you find Daniel and scold him as well.

Arriving in the hotel lobby you ask at the front desk where the gym was and they show you the direction, but when you enter it, no trace of Daniel or MIchael, well there must be only one place he could be and you were heading to eat now. You knock on his bedroom door, once, twice and one last time before remembering that he actually gave you one spare key if you needed anything, you didn't really know why he did but right now you were glad he did as you opened the door. It was dark, all the countain were close and only an ambiance light was on, and then you find him, sitting on the floor, only wearing a long shirt and his boxers, the rest of his clothes messy on the floor. He didn't even look up when he heard someone coming in, perfectly knowing it was you, plus he was to focus on his big tub of ice cream that was already halfway through eaten. You silently sit next to him, your head laying on the edge of the bed, watching the ceiling. You didn't have to wait long for him to offer you his spoon for you to take some of his vanilla ice cream. Vanilla ... so cliche yet you knew that when he was feeling down it was always the one it would choose because it was a safe choice. You took the spoon and dug it in the melted ice cream before bringing it to your lips, where he finally looked at you.

" Are you here to scold me or to witness my misery ? " he asks you, almost lost in his mind as his eyes focus on your lips where some vanilla fell down the spoon, he licked his own lips as he was waiting for you to answer.

" I don't know, I was going to kick your ass for forgetting me at the track then ice cream came into the party so I guess you already know what I think of what you did, right ? " You were now going to sit straight in front of him.

" I fucked up ... " he was defeated, like he lost hope and belief in him and it never happened to him before, maybe once or twice in his career but not recently, not when everyone including him knows how great of a driver he is. It's like your heart broke at the sight of him like this.

" You know that didn't mean anything, you will be better tomorrow, I know you know it too." You tried to reassure him, putting your hands on his knees, searching for his gaze, but you felt it didn't really work this time.

" No, look at the reality, I still can't do anything in this car, I don't know why, that's not them it's me and I'm scared I won't be able to deliver what I promised them" Yes you definitely never saw him like that, the team wasn't really putting pressure on him, they knew he needed time and everyone one else, if there were someone to blame here, that would be the media here, you were sure of it, Daniel isn't someone to give up, even when it hurts, he take the punch and fight back silently if he needs to, showing everyone the flame he had in him the next day. The flame wasn't here right now, you were searching for it as he finally locked eyes with you, but it was nowhere to be found. How will you be able to bring it back ?

" Daniel ... look at me " you took the ice cream tub away from his hands to put it as far on the floor as possible. Your hands find his face directly after that, taking his cheeks in your palm to force him to face you.

" You are Daniel Ricciardo, you are not done at all and you will get up and do better tomorrow, this qualification didn't mean anything even your team isn't mad about it, Daniel don't start to listen to the media again, you know they are just trying to write on blank paper because they don't have better story to feed themselves with. You are better than this and you need to believe in yourself the same way I believe in you, otherwise you might just quit then and we both know you are not a quitter. " This long motivational sentence felt more like a declaration to your friend and by the way his eyes showed a bit of sparkle, you knew you had reached him there. His eyes were focused on yours and you felt they were piercing your soul making you suddenly feel very shy, your own cheeks blushing. You didn't let go of Daniel's face, blown away by how handsome he was in this moment, so vulnerable under your touch. The new emotion you were discovering of him was drawing new lines on his beautiful face, making him even more mesmerizing. Your fingers were caressing his skin like he was the most precious thing in the world. These tired lines make him slightly older than he was but you find it charming. His eyes shut at the touch and he let a long breath he has been holding for long leave his chest. Your index finds his eyelid, touching and examining every little detail of your best friend. You never did that before with him, with anyone else for that matter and it felt so intimate yet you couldn't stop and the most important thing was that you didn't want to anyway.

His hands find yours, placing them on top of it and taking them in as he opens back his eyes, his lips brushing your fingers to kiss them as what you find to be a thankful gesture.

" You always know what to say to me, no matter what you are always here for me even when I am trying to push you away far to not hurt you " His sincerity knocked you, was he thinking that he was hurting you ?

" You didn't hurt me Daniel, what hurt me is seeing you like this and not being able to do much to make you feel better, I want to do so much for you, that might sound selfish, but just to be able to see that beautiful smile of you, I would do anything " You were entering a dangerous category here and you didn't know if it was something a friend would say in normal term. The last phrase piqued his curiosity and you saw it had his eyes change radically.

" Anything ? " Your hands were still locked in his, he was caressing your skin with his thumb until the pressure felt more firm and he brought you closer to him, making you lose balance and almost fell on his chest. It was dangerous and you like it, you never thought of him this way but the possibility of something more with him just smash open a door in your brain. You didn't know if you should let everything go as it comes or stop it right now before it's too late. Your brain couldn't think at all, not like your pounding heart in your chest.

" anything ... yes " He didn't have the time to act before you close the gap between you two and catch his lips. It was just a peck but that was enough for him to freeze, not moving an inch before he realised what was happening.

That's where his lips react on their own and kiss you back, deepening the kiss, releasing all the passion he didn't know he had for you. The texture of your lips throwing him off the edge, the vanilla taste of the ice cream still on your lips. He let go of your hands to catch your thighs, making you uncross them to straddle him and being even more close to his body. Your hands find their perfect place on the back of his neck and head, playing with the dark curls of his hair. You feel like time has stopped and all the anxiety was leaving Daniel's body, you were like a medicine to him. Healing him from all his worries, nothing matters in this instant, not the race tomorrow or the qualification that he had today or even the consequences of it, just you ... only you. It took you all the courage in you to break the kiss and make him look at you, because he didn't know why you stopped it since it was feeling so good and so right.

" Daniel ... " The words were stuck in your throat, you didn't even remember what you wanted to say as his eyes laid on you, if you didn't know him better you would have said that he was very adorable, but no he was doing his puppy face with his swallowed lips from the kiss. .You know exactly what he was trying to do and it's not the change of dynamics in your relationship that will erase his behavior when he wants something. He wanted you to write on his face, he could even try to hide it and he didn't want to, that's why his hands were now finding their way sneakily under your shirt, like you wouldn't notice.

" You need to rest, we have all the time to continue << this >> another time, but it's late and you need to rest " You were poking his chest, making him giggle. If he was asking you if you wanted to continue this, you weren't sure that you would be capable of saying no, but he gladly asked something else.

" Then, stay with me, sleep in my bed tonight, just tonight ... I don't want to be alone " Puppy eyes ... again and your heart melts ... again. How were you able to resist him before ? Since your lips touch his it was impossible now, your brain wasn't thinking and your body couldn't be in total control around him.

" Okay I will stay ... if you promise me to behave '' He lifts his hands up in the air looking like an innocent baby, mimicking with his fingers an invisible zip on his lips.

You both got in bed, you borrowed one of his shirts and decided to only wear it with your panty. You fell asleep easily in each other's arms,but it's later in the night when you turn that you felt Daniel spooning behind you, grabbing one of your breasts with one hand, the other one grabbing you by the waist to get closer. His breath in your neck, sensing your scent before leaving some butterflies to kiss. He was definitely awake and was now lifting your shirt to feel your skin. You were in a state where you weren't awake but aware of what was happening. You tried your best to hide the smile that was forming on your face but it was impossible when your new lover was making it very clear he wanted you. Slightly opening your eyes, it was still dark outside which could only mean it was too early to wake up and that you should both sleep again, especially him since he had to race tomorrow and he couldn't lose sleep even if you both wanted to explore each other's bodies for the remainder of the night. You hummed a quick moan before turning to face him, you could barely see his figure in the dark but you could imagine how he was hungrily watching you. Touching his lips with your fingers you feel his teeth biting his down lips. He was definitely leaning toward your touch like he never had someone come in physical contact with him tenderly.

" Daniel ..." was the only thing your tired voice could say before the breath you were holding released itself. " You have the race tomorrow ", you poke his chest with your finger, trying to distance yourself from his warm embrace.

" I don't care, what matters to me now is you ", he caresses your cheeks from the palm of his head before letting it hang on the side of your neck. One movement toward him and your lips would meet again.

" You don't think about the race because you are tired, and that's exactly why I've made you promise to behave", you whispered that last part, thankful the dark was hiding your cheeks burning at the idea of him and you. After what felt like an eternity, but just a couple of seconds in real silence you heard him lick his lips and he moved away from you, putting a physical distance between your two bodies like an act of resistance from him.

" You're right ... ", it wasn't sadness or disappointment in his voice, more like his inner voice of reason making an apparition in his blurry thought,blind by lust until now.

" Trust me I want you just as much, I've just find you, we are finally on the same page, and I promise you that I am fighting just as much as you right now not to touch you and have you only for me ", you rambled and he shush you just as quick as your word coming out of your mouth.

A sigh came out of his mouth and you felt him sniffing his body on the back, his eyes looking at the nonexistent ceiling in the dark. He searches your hand to tranglying your fingers together and keeps the contact between you. You soon after did the same and you were now two idiots looking at nothing, your eyes not finding anything to focus on and they shut themselves to rest.

You fell asleep like this, side by side, holding hands, frustrated to not have given to the pulsion you both had.

The brightness of the room was what woke you, it was hard to open your eyes and when you did, the light and the tiredness of your eyes blinded your vision, a tear forming on the corner of one eye was soon to be wrapped away by a finger. His finger, he was awake, sitting on the side of the bed, already ready to leave for the paddock.

" Hello beautiful ", he said and his voice could be compared to that of an angel. " I've got to run for debrief but you can stay in a bit longer if you want, I ordered breakfast for you it shouldn't be long to arrive ", he was so careful, you hadn't really clarified the relation between the two of you, but was the word couple needed when he was already being so perfect ? You knew it wasn't an act for your new dynamics because he was already like that before. He kissed you on the cheek and stood up, you were already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet.

" mmh, give me an hour and I will join you ", your sleepy voice made him smile so bright that it was competing with the sun to know which one will warm your heart the most.

" See you there ", was the last thing he said before he disappeared in the hallway, closing the door behind him.

That day he end up p9 which was a huge work from him and the team after the knock out in q1 from yesterday. You felt proud of him even if he wasn't feeling the car like his own yet. You Saw him briefly after the race, when he offered you a hug and a small kiss on the lips, a kiss that felt like a thank you for always being there for him and putting his needs before yours. Thank you for being the best friend he needed, the ears who listen to his complain and the voice of reason in his head. The person that will make him feel better no matter how down he feel. You both didn't needed words to express how last night change everything in your relationship but not so much in your friendship. You were evolving together and it was only the beginning of something beautiful that didn't need an end. A book you start reading but never end because there is no end. The only end you knew so far was the promising end of the day. He took time to whisper in your ears before leaving for his post-race interview.

Yes it was definitely an end you were looking forward to indeed.

MASTERLIST

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unbound-space-trash · 3 years

Text

Heartbeat (part 2)

summary: din wakes up and does a little bit of self-reflection (part 1) [ao3]

words: 1,638

a/n: coolcoolcool so what was supposed to be a oneshot has... evolved...

warnings: a sprinkle of language, a smidgen of fluff, and a dash of self-deprecation

~~~

Din becomes aware of two things as he’s unwillingly pulled into wakefulness for the second time this sleep cycle.

The first is the familiar crick in his neck that he tends to get when he sleeps with his helmet on.

The second is your warmth. At some point during the sleep cycle, you’d draped yourself over Din like a blanket, entangling your legs with his, all while still keeping an arm curled around the Child. Your face is buried in Din’s neck, and his skin threatens to break out in goosebumps at the warm puffs of your breath over his collarbone.

Din shifts himself a little to try and get comfortable, but stops when you nuzzle further into his neck. He feels his face warm up a little as he feels your lips brush against his skin when you mumble something unintelligible in your sleep before you settle again.

In the quiet of the bunk, Din’s mind starts to wander. He thinks about how your lips felt as they brushed against his neck in your sleep. Wonders what they’d feel like as you leave trails of kisses across his skin. How they’d feel against his own, how you’d taste-

No. Din feels his face heat up again, this time with embarrassment and shame as he drags himself out of that line of thought. He berates himself for those thoughts. You were in here for warmth because the Crest’s heating had crapped out, not so he could live out some far-fetched fantasy of having you in his bed, no matter how brief or innocent.

Much like you had only a couple hours earlier, Din begins to slowly make his way out of the bunk, taking care not to wake you or the Child. He quickly shoves his feet into his boots before the chill of the floor can steal too much warmth.

At your groan, Din turns around and watches as you unconsciously seek his warmth, his lips twitching with a small smile when you give up and roll both yourself and the Child into the warm space Din had occupied. Reaching in, Din adjusts the blankets to make sure you’re both properly covered before closing the bunks door and making his way up to the cockpit.

After securing the cockpit door behind him, Din slumps down in the pilot's seat, pulling off his helmet and setting it on the floor within reach.

He scrubs his hands over his face and sighs, absent-mindedly watching as the cold air in the Crest turns his breath to fog. Din came up here with the intention of seeing if there was any way to fix the heating without fucking around with the wiring, but his mind clearly has other ideas because he can’t seem to focus on anything aside from how you felt in his arms.

Din could get by before, back when the feeling of you pressed up against him was something he had to use his imagination for. Back before he’d felt your lips against his skin.

But now? Knowing how it feels to wake with your legs tangled with his? How your breath makes his skin break out in goosebumps? Din wants to have that forever. Wants to be able to wake up next to you every morning. He wants to be able to wrap you in his arms and hold you.

And damn it all, Din wants to know how your hair feels when he buries his face in it. He wants to know how your chapped lips feel against his. And certain parts of Din’s anatomy definitely want to know how you’d feel under him, how you’d sound when you moan his name while he-

Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Din kicks the edge of the console in frustration and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes go away. He knows he could never have you. He doesn’t deserve you. You deserve to be able to settle down on a nice planet with someone who can give you everything. Someone who doesn’t hide behind a wall of silence and beskar. Someone who doesn’t jump from one end of the Outer Rim to the other, chasing people down and shoving them in carbonite.

Never someone like me.

Din lets out a shuddering breath before shaking his head a little and shoving all those thoughts behind a mental wall. Self-deprecation sure as shit won’t get anything fixed.

He’s just turned his attention back to the console when he hears a rustling and then a knock on the cockpit door.

“Mando?” Your voice is rough with sleep, and muffled through the door. “You in there?”

Din grabs his helmet from the floor as he stands and puts it back on before going to open the doors.

Your hand is raised as though you were about to knock again, a look of surprise on your tired face. You’ve got a blanket clutched around your shoulders to ward off the cold, and your feet shoved into your unlaced boots. Your hair is a disaster and your eyes are red rimmed and bleary with sleep, but fuck, you are by far the most beautiful person Din has laid eyes on.

“What are you doing up?” he asks softly.

You lower your hand back to your side. “I, umm, I woke up and you weren’t there,” you shuffle your feet a little and peer around him into the cockpit. “I- wait… you- you weren’t sleeping in there were you?! Shit, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own bed!”

Din rolls his eyes, and a small smile tugs at his lips at your worry. “You snore. I came up to see if there was anything I could do to get the heating back up.”

You shake your head. “Nah, I’m almost certain it’s something to do with the wiring or the heating element. I’ll take a look at it in the morn- wait...” you frown as what he’d said catches up to you. “I do not snore, you ass!”

Din tilts his head and doesn’t say anything, knowing it’ll get a reaction out of you.

You cross your arms and scowl at him. “We’ve been travelling together for too long for me to fall for that, Mando. Stop trying to make me doubt myself.”

He’s glad that the helmet hides the growing smile on his face as he continues to stay silent.

“I don’t snore, you snore,” you grumble.

Din shrugs as he moves past you and heads down the ladder. “If you say so.”

He waits for you down in the cargo hold, his brain doing the math of a ladder plus loose boot laces plus your tired, clumsy self. And sure enough, halfway down the ladder, you step on your own laces and fall into Din’s waiting arms, your back against his chest.

He chuckles as he makes sure you’re settled properly on your feet. “Shu’shuk.”

You turn around and give him a confused look. “‘Shoe shook’? My shoes didn’t shake. I… tripped…”

Din snorts. “Not ‘shoe shook’. Shu’shuk. Disaster.” He turns and takes the few steps towards the bunk.

“They sound the same to me. Also; rude,” you say as you walk over and sit down on your cot.

Din turns around at the creak it makes. “What are you doing?” Surely you’re not going to try and sleep out here in the freezing cold again?

“Going back to sleep?” You look down at your lap uncertainly. “I- I didn’t want to assume…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He waits until you look up before he gestures at the bunk with his head. “C’mon.”

You stand and walk over, and the soft smile on your face leaves a warm feeling in his chest. “Thanks, Mando.”

Din pushes the button that opens the door, and both of you immediately focus on the lump of blankets in the middle of the bunk that’s snoring louder than it has any right to.

“He snores,” you and Din say at the same time.

“Looks like the blame was misplaced,” you whisper with a grin on your face.

“Looks like,” Din murmurs and he leans in to pick up the Child masquerading as a pile of blankets. He kicks off his boots and climbs into the bunk with the still-snoring Child in one arm, and after shifting himself to one side, he holds his other arm out in invitation.

You toe off your own boots before clambering into the bunk and sitting next to him. “Pass him here, might as well sort ourselves out before we lay down.” You hold out your arms and the Child is gently deposited into them.

Din pulls the blankets up over your laps and manoeuvres so that he can lie down on his side, then he gently helps you to get comfortable so that the Child doesn’t wake up. Once you’re laying with your back to his chest, your head pillowed on his arm, and the Child tucked into your own chest, Din finishes pulling the blankets over all of you. He reaches a foot out of the blankets and presses the interior door controls to seal in the warmth before shoving his foot back under the blankets.

“Night again, Mando,” your voice is already slurring as the cocoon of warmth lulls you back into the waiting arms of sleep.

“G’night shu’shuk,” Din hums, and he rests his free hand on your hip again.

“St’ll rude,” you mumble before your breathing evens out with sleep.

Din lies awake for a bit longer, just listening to you breathe. Maybe he doesn’t deserve you, but in this moment, he just wants to savour the contact, enjoy the warmth of you against him.

Just this once.

(part 3)

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x gender neutral reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian

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ventura-starlight · 3 years

Text

HAIKYUU CAPTAINS IF THEIR S/O HAS STRETCHMARKS

here is part 2 everyone!! I was kinda struggling on this one but I guess everyday life can be the best inspiration 🥴 anyways I also just wanted to say thank you for the support!! it means the world to me and gives me confidence to keep going so thanks for that lmao [sorry I can't be super sappy for very long] hope you all enjoy!! [read part 1 here!]

***Y/N/N stands for your nickname btw!!***

warnings: insecurities, angst [??], hurt/comfort, mentions of swimsuit shopping in kita's and the use of the word "beautiful". Oikawa's is a little more angsty to me, the fangirls say some really horrible things so please be warned!!!

->it was the time of year to go swimsuit shopping and so you had brought your boyfriend KITA along to help. swimsuit shopping has always stressed you out but you figured having him there might help! Kita helped pick out a few different swimsuits for you to try on. As you stepped into one of the pieces, your stomach churned uncomfortably. maybe this one is just too small! you thought to yourself. trying on a few more, you discovered the source of your disappointment. You looked down at your hips, your thighs, arms, and chest. Light little stretches littered across your delicate skin but you just felt unhappy. tears and small sniffled escaped your lips as you stood in the mirror. Kita had been wondering why you didn't come out, he chose not to bother you. When he heard your soft cries? He perked up immediately, rushing over to the room you were in. "Love? Are you alright in there? Is something wrong?" he asked, worry evident in his tone. Croaking out softly "Yeah I'm fine" you began wiping your eyes, trying to calm yourself when you heard him speak again "Y/N can I come in for a moment?" you chuckled lightly and popped your head out of the door, shielding your body with the door. Kita turned his head to the side and entered the dressing room, looking at you in the suit as you closed the door. "You look lovely Y/N/N" you only shook your head, Kita knew you weren't the most confident in your body. He never understood why though, in his eyes youre ethereal and angelic. Kita shook his head softly, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, "Love you're beautiful. I won't let you argue with me on this okay? Wear whatever makes you happy, because these little marks?" he questioned while trailing his finger lightly over your arm, "They are beautiful too" he left the dressing room, leaving Kita's word swimming in your head. Turning back to the mirror you smiled softly, a little bit of confidence growing in your heart, enough to buy that swimsuit and feel beautiful, because you are, and Kita wasn't ever going to let you forget that.

->USHIJIMA was a very actively fit man. I mean he had to be. Being one of the top ranked volleyball players in the Japan requires a lot of exercise. Looking at your boyfriend play was something you always had a great joy for. You had always been so proud of him and wanted to support him as best as you could. Many would think dating Ushijima would be very one sided, but he always made time for you when he could. As Ushi began practicing your mind wandered off, he was so fit, not an inch of fat on his body. You looked down at your legs as you sat on the bench. Little light stretches marked up your skin, cellulite aiding in making you feel insecure. As much as you would hate to admit it you were very insecure about yourself. It wasn't that Ushijima hadn't noticed, rather he just didn't understand why. You knew your boyfriend cared but he isn't always the best with helping in emotional moments. Your breathing got a bit more unsteady as your mind raced, your face began to turn red, catching the attention of your boyfriend who looked over to you, a slightly confused look in his eyes. You gathered your stuff and rushed outside. After standing in the hallway for a few moments you felt a tall figure loom over you. "Y/N? what happened?" shaking your head you moved to stand up, only to see Wakatoshi sitting down next to you, pulling you into his side. "You can talk to me, I'm always here for you" looking up at his tender eyes you explained your insecurities, how you felt unworthy. He softly grabbed your hand moving up his practice clothes so that you could see the marks that mirrored yours, littered across his own skin. "You always say how handsome I am. That I'm 'stunning' and 'perfect'." he chuckled lightly "But I have stretchmarks too, just like you. If I can still be beautiful to you, worthy of your love, well hell, you're definitely more than worthy of mine no matter how you see yourself" pressing a soft kiss to your hand, Wakatoshi met your glassy eyes, reassurance evident in his gaze. Your boyfriend was never a liar, you processed his words, letting them sink into your heart. It was moments like these that helped you remember you were worthy and so was he.

->OIKAWA's fangirls were annoying, but you made sacrifices for love. Everyone has their breaking point. You tried to ignore it, you really did, but they just wouldn't let up. The fangirls would whisper about you in the halls as you walk by. It was petty things, they were just jealous, not all of the fangirls were like this, these were just the outliers. It started off small, just stuff like 'I wish it were me and not them' that sort of thing. then it evolved into more. The words felt like venom being sunken into your skin, "Oh why is Oikawa with them, I mean Oikawa is strong but can he lift that?" giggles were shared as another girl spoke up, "Yeah like have you seen their legs? They are covered in stretchmarks". It was cruel but you didn't want to tell Oikawa. You pushed through, a smile and all! However the girls decided to continue their torturous words, adding notes to your locker as well. Oikawa had seen something was wrong but he didn't know what. Tōru approached you about the issue but for you to brush it off "I'm just tired Tōru, I'm alright". This went on for weeks, slowly you became more and more insecure about who you were as a person. It was getting worse and you could hardly look in the mirror without feeling sick to your stomach, the fangirls' words floating around in your brain. As you walked to volleyball practice the girls confronted you, spouting all the hateful words over and over again. Laughing at you as tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn't breathe, and tried to run away only to have another small crowd arrive right behind you. Suddenly, in the midst of the scene, a volleyball slammed against the wall startling the group, actively quieting them. Oikawa stood there, a disappointed but albeit aloof scowl on his face. He began to spoke "If you girls are going to confront my partner when they are all alone, thinking I am not going to find out? You are sorely mistaken. No fan of mine would ever be so insecure about their own self. You must all be just so jealous you can't handle that my partner is perfect and that I'm with them and you aren't in there place. Now, before I get really upset I suggest you all leave them alone. Now." it seemed that oikawa's threat they ran away like mice. Tōru got closer to you, eyes filled with concern. You were still shaking as he wrapped his arms around you. He wiped the tears that seemed to be flowing down your face in river-like streams. Pulling you in close, Tōru began littering kissed across your face and head, "Y/N you are perfect to me and always will be. If something like that ever happens to you again please let me know. You're happiness and safety is my number one priority and don't listen to what they said alright? You are perfect in every single way" He said as he shakily ran his fingers along the marks, "I love you so much and always will okay?" you nodded gently as you began to calm down. You muttered an "I love you" against him as you closed your eyes, exhausted after the ordeal. You felt better though, Oikawa always made you feel better. He always made you feel beautiful.

I'm so sorry that these got so angsty 😭😭 but I hope you all enjoyed them nonetheless 😀 @sunnymfskies

#angelicstrwbrry 🍓#springs.sprung 🐰#kita x reader #kita imagines #ushijima x reader #ushijima imagines #oikawa x reader #oikawa imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #angelics.haikyuu.txt

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

Text

I wanted to make myself like the ravine

— There are plenty of things that Hawks knows about, but there are few he knows none about. A journey of how Hawks navigates the meaning of the word love.

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pairing: hawks (takami keigo) x fem!reader

warnings: recent manga spoilers, future!au, alcohol consumption, fem!reader

word count: 6,819

a/n: this is for the pocuties valentines day collab! rhank you for letting me join! inspired by the poem to the title of this fic!

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A G A P E

—

Hawks is one of the fastest men in the world.

It’s not a brag; it’s the truth.

A cold, hard, damning truth.

Hawks is a Pro Hero with the power, skill, and finesse required to take the fall for the entire country. He is someone who is loved by all, who thrives off of the appreciation and the cheers, but he knows — he understands — he’s expendable. He’s a tool—an object seconds from being put to rest.

There are many things that Hawks knows; he’s been training to be a hero since he was in his very childhood. Blindfolded, tested and conditioned to be the ideal hero, the perfect pawn.

Hawks is no idiot, and he will never deny that often times that he isn’t sure what he is feeling.

Emotions are weird for him. Feelings are oversimplified in everything he was taught, yet disgustingly really and oddly interfering the second he had set foot into the spotlight. He was used to the cold, the people who would view him as a specimen, experiment 20493, codenamed: Fierce Winged Hawks. The only emotions he understood was apathy, seriousness, anger, resentment, bitterness, disappointment, and relief. When finally, finally, the Hero Commission broke his wings, his spine, and his mind, the small boy so eager to be a Hero ultimately nothing but a soldier, ready to follow commands to the T.

Hawks has only heard of love from the blurry, unclear memories of his childhood. His mother muttering how she had no love for him to be taking care of him as he did, or his father saying he could never love him. Love was foreign, strange, alien to him. Even when he was eighteen and finally given a bit of freedom from the chains the Hero Commission bound him in was expressed out of love. But he was put into the cage that granted him the ability to spread his stiff wings; love made no sense.

He saw lovers making out in alleyways, and he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering just why anyone would want to kiss in the smelly, dark, virus-infected areas. He saw his colleagues come in looking dazed, refreshed, reborn, yelling loudly, and singing poetry about their love for some other person they met just yesterday. He also couldn’t ignore the days, weeks, months later when they would rearrive with red-rimmed eyes, swollen eyes, and a tremor to their voice.

Love seemed… awful to Hawks.

Love was a deception of brain chemicals. Nothing more than your mind bending, flipping, and twisting to make something that made absolutely no sense make sense.

Hawks had expressed that one day to a sidekick of his, his barriers and walls crumbling away because he had been on a stakeout for five days straight now. The world that could never keep up with him was numbing his brain.

“Well, that’s romantic and flirtatious love for ya,” his sidekick explained with a halfhearted shrug. It seemed that he both agreed and disagreed with what Hawks had to say. “They’re amazing loves, don’t get it wrong, and they definitely don’t make sense, but they’re loves not meant to last.”

Hawks blinked.

“What?”

His sidekick chuckled, hands rubbing at his eyes as he peered out the window again, his sullen eyes looking even more tired.

“Have you never learned the different types of love before, Hawks?” the sidekick teased as much as he was curious. “I figured a pro as popular and smart as you are would know the different types of love.”

Hawks feathers fluttered in his inability to keep his lack of knowledge to himself.

“I don’t.”

“Wow, finally something Hawks isn’t aware of!” the sidekick laughed, and his hand opened his phone, fingers hitting the screen before shoving the device into Hawks’ chest. “I’m sure you’ll find that you can understand at least one love.”

Hawks grabbed the phone, head cocking to the side in his curiosity as he scrolled down through the phone.

There were eight different types.

Eight different ones that he could have experienced within his then twenty-one years, and he found himself unable to look away from one.

Agape: universal, selfless love

“Hawks, they’re moving!” the sidekick squawked, and Hawks handed over the phone, and with nothing on his mind, burst out the window, ready to take down this organization.

Hawks had to admit that later that night, when he was finally able to sleep in his own bed, he felt selfless love. It was for the people of Japan. The many citizens who needed his help and the heroes of the country who rose to the demands of the job. Maybe it wasn’t the type of love depicted in anything he’s ever read or watched before, but that was okay. It was love.

The love he has for the citizens is enough to keep his head afloat.

This is the only love he needs in his life right now, the only love that matters.

But he’s no longer twenty-one, he’s twenty-five, and the wings on his back that feel practically invisible to him, are hurting. His back is in pain, his quirk almost gone, save for the smallest, insignificant feathers perching from the stumps of what was his beginnings of a wingspan. It still burns, phantom singes and phantom heat whenever he thinks about his nearly gone, never to be grown again, wings.

“Well, Hawks, you already know that this is going to happen,” comes the cold voice of one of the board members of the Hero Commission. A man who had practically raised (see managed) him.

Today was the end of Hawks life, more or less.

“AFO, Shigaraki Tomura, and the well-known former members of the League of Villains were finally stopped,” Hawks speaks with a nod. He knows, even though he could not be a soldier, he had been around to see the young UA students, Endeavors Interns, bring them to justice.

The biggest names of evil were dead, and Hawks already knew he was over.

To be fair, he was glad it was over.

But still, it hurt to hear the indifference in his voice, the apathy, the tedium.

“Operation: Fierce Wings - Hawks is officially over.”

“I could’ve figured that one out pretty easily,” Hawks jests, unable to show the way his heart twisted and withered under the knowledge that he was no longer a hero. His love, his agape, for the people were still there. Still, just as he recognized in his colleagues who were experiencing the different forms of love, it didn’t matter how much love you held for someone, something, for the innocent, helpless people…

Life takes, it destroys, and love doesn’t seem to have a chance.

“Thank you for your twenty years of service. I hope you find the freedom you had been looking for.”

P H I L A U T I A

It’s been a week.

Seven days, twenty-one hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-four seconds since Hawks was fired (see Honorably Discharged) as a Pro Hero.

Hawks has always felt that the world moved oh so slowly behind him. It had been his wish that heroes be able to relax, laze around because society had evolved enough that criminals knew better, were treated better, and could integrate into a truly peaceful society.

It had been his dream.

But right now, he was bored.

B o r e d.

“Fuck, I don’t care,” Hawks grumbled, face smooshing into a pillow as he watched the Netflix Series Bridgerton drone on the screen. “Dump his ass.”

His apartment, it was safe to say, was a mess. There were cups, bowls, plates, and chopsticks everywhere. His hair was ruffled, stringy, held back by a hair clip he had stolen from Miruko. His beard was nearly fully grown in, and there were bags under his eyes despite the fact he was sleeping for more hours of the day than staying awake. He was sore, tired, bored.

So bored.

He didn’t think being bored was going to suck this much, going to hurt him like this.

Fuck.

“Open the damn door, bird boy!” came a sharp scream and powerful kick from the front door.

Hawks glared at the door, the tiniest of feathers he had been able to regrow, trying to pathetically open the lock on the door. A sheen layer of sweat pushed against his forehead, and Hawks grunted, trying to lift the heavy lock.

BAM.

The door swung open, forcefully kicked open by none other than Pro Hero Miruko.

“Yo!” Miruko waved, lips pulled in a fierce grin as she entered through the broken doorway with nothing but a bag of unknown items. “I figured you were here!”

“...you broke my door,” Hawks pointed out, eyes narrowed as dust and destruction danced within the air.

“You took too long,” Miruko breezed, slamming her plastic bag on the kitchen island. “It’s a fucking rats nest in here, birdbrain; I thought you were somewhat organized?”

Hawks groaned loudly, sinking further into his couch as Miruko began reorganizing his kitchen area — dumping the dirty dishes into the sink and throwing things away in fast, practiced skill. “Life is too boring, and I’m too bored to do anything about all of the mess,” Hawks exaggerates partially, hand twisting and dancing as he speaks. “Thanks for cleaning up the mess.”

“I’m not cleaning up your damn mess, birdbrain,” Miruko barks out a laugh, her hands slamming against the now, somehow, clean surface. “I’m just making my life easier!”

Hawks looked over the top of the couch with a semi impressed, semi uncaring look and shrugged.

“You seem to have a great handle over those robot limbs now,” he points out.

Sure enough, Miruko had two bionic limbs, limbs that she had finally managed to work into a fighting career. After spending two years on the sideline, relearning how to walk and then fight, she was back on the field.

She was a hero again, despite it all, unlike him.

“Damn right, I’m amazing!” Miruko preened, chest puffed, and bunny tail wagging excitedly. “But anyway, I figured your dumbass would be depressed, so I brought you some shit.”

Hawks watched with a curious gaze as Miruko quickly hopped once from where she was in the kitchen to a place on his couch, landing on Hawks' legs unintentionally.

“OW!”

“Look at what Rumi brought you,” Miruko laughed, slapping Hawks on the back as he cradled his legs. “And yes, I just referred to myself in the third person, so shush.”

Hawks grumbled, lips in a half pout, half frown.

Taking the opaque bag from Miruko, Hawks pulled out the many items in the bag.

Carrots, a KFC gift card, Korean skincare products, a movie about Miruko’s recovery process, and a 1001 Things to Do (A Book on Finding Self Love).

Hawks stares at the book.

“The perfect items for a self-care, self-love spa day,” Miruko nods, once again slapping Hawks on the back. “Some old sidekick of yours told me that you don’t know what love is, so I figured that I would help teach you the most important one! Self-love! Truly the hardest one to master, in my opinion, but damn if it isn’t a good one.”

Hawks feels transfixed almost, unable to look away from the book as Miruko slaps him on the back yet again as she moves to leave. He hears her yelling about forwarding the bill to fix his door to her, her agency would pay for the damage, and how she’s off to train with some bunny hopping boy from UA.

Opening the book, Hawks looked at the number one thing to do on the book and sighed.

#1: Look in a mirror and name five things you LOVE about yourself.

Well, it’s not like he has anything better to do.

Hawks is on number thirteen (Stand at a bridge and scream into the void about the things you love at dusk) when he realizes that maybe… he doesn’t love himself.

It is without saying that he loves people; agape, after all, is the only love type that made sense to him, but philautia, self-love, was way lost on him. Objectives 2 - 12 on the book were entertaining to do! They had Hawks going outside of his house much more than his week trapped indoors, and for the first time since the day his wings had been burnt off, his house was spotless.

But it was clear to Hawks that he didn’t feel love for himself.

Whenever he tried to convince himself that he should love himself, that there were terrific qualities in himself, he thought back to the dirty, burnt room.

“I still gotta protect their happiness!” the phantom in his mind screamed, the broken sob collected in his throat.

Hawks shivered, unable to let himself recognize the pain and hurt in the phantom's eyes, or the way that he now wished he had never done that… why had he done that?

What a mess…

The small chirping of Hawks phone interrupts his morose thoughts. He looks at the screen, eyebrows raising in slight mirth and caution as none other than his former intern was currently calling him.

“Tsukuyomi-kun!” Hawks laughs into the receiver, the weight of his past for a moment forgotten. “How are ya?!”

“Hello, Hawks-sensei,” Tokoyami’s calm tone fills Hawks' ears. “I was calling because I have a request to make.”

“Name it,” Hawks spoke immediately, slouching against the cold bars of the bridge, eyes closing as he tried to relax. “You need a letter of rec or something?”

“Nothing of the sort, actually,” Tokoyami says. “We third-year students are graduating in a few days; I was inquiring if you would attend on my behalf.”

“Wow, Tsukuyomi-kun, no need to be so formal with me!” Hawks laughed delightedly, his hands carting through his feather-like hair, “I’d love to come and watch you guys graduate! Is it true that the finger-smashing boy is the valedictorian?”

“That would be false, Midoriya-kun has nothing on Yaoyorozu-san.”

“What a bummer, you’d think he’d be first after how he helped win the war for us, huh?”

“You’ll find that Yaoyorozu-san is highly gifted and undeterred by most things,” Tokoyami sighed. For a moment, Hawks chuckled at the melancholy tone to his old intern's voice. It sounded as if he had been striving with great difficulty to reach the highest marks as well.

Hawks began speaking to his rather odd ex-intern with great curiosity with the blanket of the night surrounding him. His defenses and thoughts whittling away the more they spoke, the later it got in the morning.

“Ne, Tokoyami-kun, I have a question?”

“Concerning what?”

Hawks pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks up into the still dark sky, “Do you know how to love yourself?”

Silence.

Had it been anyone else, Hawks would have panicked at the lack of noise. Still, his already less than chatty intern typically took to not speaking much to begin with.

“Self-love is difficult,” Tokoyami finally spoke, his words slow, carefully chosen. “We humans are flawed; we all have demons. Most of the time, we only recognize and see our demons, oftentimes forgetting that being human also means being weak and at times immoral. Loving oneself is a hard task because we know ourselves better than any other. It’s a work in progress for everyone to love oneself, it's a type of love by the Ancient Greeks, but it’s not always everpresent. One must accept all flaws to love oneself, and remember that flaws don’t make you less, even if you believe otherwise.”

“...wow, I asked for a sentence answer, and you gave me a speech. Who would’ve known you were so in check with your emotions, Tokoyami!”

“You knew, I’ve already revealed this side of me before. You laughed last time too.”

Hawks finds himself home thirty minutes later, and he stares up at the ceiling, fingers drumming against his chest.

Self-love… it seems like an ever-evolving type of love, but it’s there. He knows that even if he has regrets and hardships and things he hates about himself, deep down, self-love exists and that it will exist.

Patience.

Even the fastest man in the world could demonstrate patience.

L U D U S

“What can I get for ya?”

“I have no idea honestly, do you have any recommendations?”

Hawks could say with complete honesty that he felt entirely out of place.

He was at a local bar. The bar was semi-busy today. Most young adults dressed in an arrangement of clothes, each on a different level of soberness as they cheered to this and that.

Why was he at a bar even though he was slightly uncomfortable? Well, you can blame #73 in the book for that.

(#73: Enter the first bar you find, order a drink, and flirt!)

“What type of liquor do you like? Hard or soft?”

Hawks blinked; he didn’t know.

“Hard?”

The bartender looked a bit unsure of him for a bit before nodding and turning his back to him.

Did hard liquor mean he was going to get an iced drink? He’s never consumed alcohol before.

“Here you go!” the bartender sang, slamming two shot glasses before him. “Two shots of Bacardi.”

“Oh, thank you?” Hawks tilted his head as a small cup of OJ was placed in front of him (“That’s your chaser,” the bartender had laughed). Bringing the small glass shot glass up, Hawks looked around at the throngs of people surrounding the bar and looked at you. You were cheering loudly as you raised your own shot glass in the air with a whoop and, in a fast, fluid motion, brought the shot glass to your mouth and took the liquid down easily. Hawks was definitely unimpressed now; that looked entirely too easy. “Here we go, cheers to me.”

Imitating your own actions, Hawks shot back the liquid in his shot glass, and immediately his entire body tensed.

EW.

NO.

EW.

OH GOD, NO!

Spitting out the sour, bitter, disgusting — dear god, how do you even describe this taste?! — liquid, Hawks, chugged the OJ, his lungs and throat and tongue burning from the shot.

“That was disgusting!” Hawks spat to absolutely no one, his hands covering his mouth as he stared at the other awaiting shot of ‘Bacardi.’ “Why would anyone drink that?!”

“Only madmen drink Bacardi while sober,” a voice joined in on Hawks' one-sided conversation. “Or bitches who are self-sabotagers. Never trust a hoe who says Bacardi is their favorite drink.”

Hawks turned around to see you, the girl he had regrettably underestimated for taking the shot, smiling at him with a not entirely sober look to your face.

“You look like neither. That and the way you took the shot obviously means that you had no idea what you were drinking.” Hawks continued to stare at you, completely perplexed by your casual conversation, the dress on your body that was twisted a bit, screaming wonders about your level of sobriety. You took to the empty barstool beside him with a grin and a calculating look, “You’re Hawks, right?”

“Yeah, Hawks,” he spoke, his tongue feeling weird in his mouth as he bowed stiffly in his chair. You were beautiful, fuck.

“I’m y/l/n, nice to meet you!” you speak easily, fingers grabbing at his other filled shot glass with a concerned look. “I have a feeling you shouldn’t try to take this other shot.”

“Dying of alcohol definitely isn’t in my vision of ways to go out,” Hawks grins. Pushing through his haze of awkwardness as you shift in the barstool so that you’re now facing him entirely, knees pressed to his thigh. “I’ve never actually drunk before?”

You inhale sharply, your eyes going wide as you break all levels of personal contact that’s acceptable of strangers in Japan and grab his cheeks.

“Alcohol virgin?!” you gasp, the sweet smell of some liquid drafting from your breath. “I’ll teach you everything that I know, don’t worry!”

You let go of his face, neck turning away from him, looking for the bartender to flag him down.

“Don’t you have—?”

“They can wait,” you wave at the bartender before turning back to Hawks with a confident grin on your face. “I have my favorite Pro Hero right beside me; I think they’ll understand.”

“Alright, what is it that I need to know?”

“My full name,” you breeze with a wink. “Y/l/n y/n.”

“A beautiful name.”

“I am a beautiful woman.”

Hawks chuckled good-naturedly, his head nodding in agreement, “I think we were talking about the alcohol, though, not your attraction as a female.”

“All in good time, all in good time,” you laugh, taking to the bartender and ordering two drinks, both of which were entirely foreign to Hawks.

Hawks would not consider himself to be an expert at flirting. He was attractive, a great conversationalist, and did have a type of edge to his words that often seemed playful or a warning, depending on how you looked at it. But it appeared that his natural way of speaking was more than enough to make him flirtatious enough to match the way you spoke to him.

You had introduced him to a single mixed drink, telling him that getting drunk by yourself at a bar typically wasn’t a smart thing, so keep to something with a low alcohol percentage. Just enough to make you loosen up, but not enough that you were incapable of getting home. Hawks liked the way your hand rested on his forearm. How you smiled and laughed at something to show your interest but not at everything to show that you weren’t faking your amusement at what he was saying.

You matched his every word, not backing down from his bluffs. Soon enough, Hawks felt his cheeks warm when he finally looked directly at your smiling face (he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or not).

Eventually, though, the night ended, and you shimmied off the bar stool as your friends had come to collect you to leave.

“Can I get your number?” you ask, eyes mostly entirely sober as you handed him your phone. “I know you were the man who was just a bit too fast, but I think I can handle that.”

Hawks snorts, his eyes rolling in his amusement, “That was horrible.”

“I’m drunk, I have an excuse!” you exclaim with a pout that quickly turns into a giddy smile as Hawks enters his number to your phone. “Don’t worry though, once I’m sober, I’ll flirt your eyebrows clean off!”

“That sounds painful!” Hawks yells as you wave goodbye, your arms linked with a line of other girls as you leave the bar with teasing laughter and undecipherable words.

It was with you that Hawks realized that he had come to find a new type of love.

Ludus, the love of flirtation and playfulness.

Damn, who would’ve known.

P H I L I A

Hawks was having a pretty bad day.

It wasn’t anything super terrible happening, all things considered. It was a lovely day out; the sun was warm, the sky so blue, and the birds chirping. Nothing on the news to be concerned about and all his precious people were safe.

But it was still a bad day because instead of being out and about with you, his now borderline best friend/girlfriend, who he was stupidly having a crush on, he was stuck at home.

Hawks was sick.

Deliriously, stuffy nose, goopy eyed, chapped lips, and feverish sick.

You: Are you sure you’re fine????

Hawks: Im perfectly okay. Ill go with you to the park next time sorry

You: Thats not what im concerned about stupid!!!!!

Hawks: Bye have fun!

You: I knoW YOURE SICK ASSHOLE

Hawks chuckled, rereading his messages with you.

Blowing his nose for what felt like the umpteenth time, Hawks resumed the movie on the screen that you had recommended him to watch — Disney’s Chicken Little — because it reminded you of him, or something like that. The TV droned on with the movie, and Hawks found it hard to keep focused as the Sandman danced on his head and whispered in his ear.

He hadn’t noticed he had fallen asleep until a loud banging was heard on his door.

Shuffling towards the door, Hawks opened the still slightly broken door with bleary eyes and a stuffy nose.

In front of him was none other than you.

You… with a basket full of things.

“Hi!” you greeted him, pushing past Hawks easily and walking into his apartment. “You look worse than I thought you would be!”

“That's hurtful,” Hawks pouted, closing the door behind you, sneezing, then following after you. “Why are you here? I thought you w-were — achoo — going to the park?”

“I was, but we were supposed to go together to check off number 184, and I wasn’t about to go alone to complete a list meant for you!” you exclaimed, dumping the overfilled basket on the kitchen counter.

“Mm,” Hawks hummed, his voice dry and cracking as he pulled the blanket closer around him. “What’s this?”

“A get well care basket,” you say in an unmistakable like tone; you glance at him, smiling widely, and gesture dramatically to the basket. “Follow along, if you can.”

“Pfft.”

“So first, I have some sleepytime tea; I swear to the gods and back that this tea will cure you and knock you the fuck out,” you say, pulling out the thing on top of the basket and putting it to the side. “Next, we have some tissues because you obviously need them.”

“Hey!”

Hawks watched through red-rimmed eyes as you carefully and thoroughly explained what and why you had brought him. Fuzzy socks, a blanket, his favorite snacks and drinks, medicine, DVD’s to more movies you told him he had to watch, an embarrassing childhood picture of you that he had been wanting and swore he would never expose least he wants to die, more oils for his diffuser, and a signed Endeavor poster he had been wanting.

Safe to say that after he had been drugged up, eating some soup and drinking some tea on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket you had bought him, laying between your legs, Hawks was feeling much, much better. It had been hours since Hawks had coughed or sneezed, and he was talking with you about how Disney movies were being produced less and getting sort of worse with each one. The movie titan slowly losing its ground.

“Okay, it’s almost eleven pm; I have work tomorrow, you are still sick, let's pack it up!” you eventually say during a moment of comfortable silence.

“I can’t believe you have to work,” Hawks sniffled, standing up off the couch so that you could get up. “Seems like a crime.”

“It’s not so bad! Being a celebrity PR manager is a million times easier than a hero PR manager. At least we can help decide what's seen!” you laugh, helping to clean up his living room of the bags of chips and drinks.

“Sure, sure,” Hawks grins, keeping the trashcan open for you so that you could place the trash in. “Thank you.”

Walking you towards the front door, Hawks comes to the sudden and almost alarming realization that he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants you to stay. He thought this was a friendship, and it was one, a good one at that! For about a month now, he had known that there was a type of love he had for you, one of friendship.

It was called philia.

So why did he want to keep you wrapped up in a hug, to pull you close and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, to your cheek, to your lips?

“—I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you during my lunch break,” you say, slipping on your shoes as you pull on your jacket. “If you need anything at all, call or text—”

The words on your tongue die immediately when Hawks still slightly chapped lips press against yours. The sick must that was present earlier on the day is no longer there, and you can feel heat and fire bursting from your cells as Hawks pulls away from you.

“I’m sorry,” Hawks breathes out, a small smile on his face, a daze in his eyes that tells you he definitely was not completely sorry. “I couldn’t resist anymore?”

“W-We will talk about that later!” your voice squeaks, your heart hammering in your throat because fucking Hawks kissed you. “If I-I get sick, I’ll rip out your eyebrows!”

“Will you go out with me? On a date?” Hawks continues on, leaning on the doorframe you’ve yet to pass.

“...I hate you, yes,” you warble, hands pressing against your burning face as Hawks grin grows.

“Perfect, I’ll text you,” he allows you to pass through the doorway where you feel both entirely light and giddy yet awkward and mechanical.

“Hawks, I swear, if your stupid kiss got me sick!”

“You’ll rip out my eyebrows,” Hawks laughs, waving a hand. “If you rip out my eyebrows, I demand a kiss for every hair you pluck out.”

He laughs at how he can basically see the heat rising from your ears as you squawk and run away.

Looking at #184 of his book, Hawks smiles as he crosses it out (#184: Ask out your crush!) and sighs. Philia was love between friends, but it was also, if he remembered correctly, one of affection. And it was without saying that he held a deep affection for you.

E R O S

As much as Hawks claimed he knew about the world, he was as clueless as a newborn baby when it came to the topic of love. Reasoning? Well, today marked a year of being together. It had been a year since Hawks had kissed you when he was snot-nosed kissed (you did get sick, by the way, and while you didn’t rip out his eyebrows, Hawks had kissed you plenty in apology), and then took you on a date where you went to a trampoline palace.

He was clumsily romantic. More often than not, he wasn’t actually romantic. Still, the sincere thought and emotions he put into it made his actions seem so thoughtful and sweet.

You’re not sure why you actually believed that on your year anniversary, he was going to plan something for the two of you. So the reaction he had when you showed up on the year anniversary, armed with a bouquet of flowers and a small personal gift for him, Hawks looked deeply confused.

“This is still not bad!” you exclaim, watching as Hawks attempts to redecorate his apartment from the messy bachelor vibe into something of romance. It was easier said than done, especially as your boyfriend had no decorations in his house that wasn’t fanboy or bird material.

“I didn’t realize that one year anniversaries were meant to be out and about!” Hawks yelled back, failing to nail the fairy lights onto the ceilings. “I knew you wanted to do something, but I thought it was going to be like ‘let’s go get some KFC!’ sort of thing!”

“Definitely not,” you laugh, sitting on his couch with the take out food sitting on the table. It had just arrived, and Hawks was still not accepting the lack of romance in his apartment. “But it’s okay, really Hawks! I didn’t tell you, which is entirely my fault! Come on, let's watch something together, eat, and relax!”

Hawks sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

He should have known that one year anniversaries were a big thing in dating too. They sure were in businesses; what a rookie mistake. Not satisfied with the lack of romance in his apartment but also unable to do anything more to it, Hawks sulked over to the couch and sat beside you, grabbing his dinner plate.

“Thanks, dove.”

“You’re most welcome, baby vulture. Thank you for the food!” you grin, breaking the chopsticks and digging in.

The food is eaten with a mirthful conversation, the TV playing the 100 Funniest Hero Fails playing on Youtube. Eventually, the purples and pinks of the sky became dark.

Night is here.

Hawks went from sitting right beside you to lying on the couch and having you snuggled into his stomach at some point in the night. YouTube is no longer playing Hero Compilation videos. Still, it is now instead showing a chef with a giraffe quirk demonstrating how to make your very own pancake treehouse, no clickbait!

Hawks is transfixed on you, watching the way your eyes sparkle and shine as you stare up at the screen, your lips moving as you give your side commentary, but he can’t hear a thing.

Five weeks ago, on this day, was the day that Hawks realized that the philia love he had for you had evolved once again. It had become one of eros. Romantic, passionate love. He loved you; he loves you. Anything you wanted or needed in the world, Hawks would do anything to give it to you. He had yet to tell you said realization; after all, he needed to make sure it wasn’t some fluke but found himself chickening out each time he wanted to confess.

Gliding his thumb against your cheekbone, Hawks stared adoringly at you, head tilted as you laughed at the video before glancing up at him. It was evident that you hadn’t been expecting him to be staring at you so intensely. As soon as you glanced back at the TV, you snapped right back, curiosity blazing off your gaze.

“What’s up?” you asked, hands pressing to his chest as you lift up a bit. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I love you,” Hawks whispered, the words coming out so much easier than he thought it would. “Y/l/n y/n, I love you.”

Your eyes widen significantly, your jaw dropping as your eyes grow just a bit watery.

Hawks smiles softly, knowing that for so long you had told him you loved him without a single moment where he returned the affection. It hadn’t bothered you. Obviously, you knew why he didn’t say it, but finally hearing him say it seemed to break you just a bit in the best of ways. He kisses you softly, fingers wiping away the single tear that fell.

“I love you,” he repeats.

“I love you too, Hawks,” you blubber, your smile so bright yet wobbling with your heartfelt emotions.

“Takami Keigo,” Hawks corrects. “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Hawks watches as you process his name, and a wet laugh bubbles from your throat as you nod your head, hands reaching behind his neck to pull him close for the first soul-consuming, fiery kiss of the night.

“I love you, Keigo.”

If this wasn’t eros, well, then, Hawks didn’t know what it was.

P R A G M A

two years later, valentines day

Keigo sits on the bed, fingers adjusting the tie around his neck as he stares at you doing your makeup in the bathroom. Your eyes intensely concentrated on your reflection as you painted dark red lips on yourself.

To sum up the last two years in a single, simple phrase, Keigo would say that love now made even less sense to him.

It wasn’t precisely that it made perfect sense before. Some days he still argued and wondered about how love could exist in specific scenarios. Or why, after you stole his final KFC chicken leg he was saving, he could always love you after such betrayal. It made no sense to him, but also made perfect sense, hence the complete confusion.

But it was without saying that as you twirled in your outfit in front of him, a grin plastered so large and lovingly on your features, that it made sense.

How could he not love when he had someone like you.

The walk to the restaurant was perfect; he had even taken a moment to slow dance with you when you came across some performers. Your sweet smile meant just for him made Keigo hum contently as he kissed you gently.

Dinner was amazing. The food rich and luscious, entirely to die for that had the both of you moaning about how great it was before laughing because the waitress definitely heard that. After dinner was over, you and Keigo were now waiting on desserts when he simply grabbed your left hand and slid a simple ring over a very important finger before placing a kiss on your palm.

“I know I was at one point too fast, and maybe I think I was too slow to ask this, but would you like to wake up and have chicken with me every day?” Keigo asked, watching as your face went through a million stages of understanding, processing, internalizing, accepting, and pure emotions.

The kiss was sloppy and wet, the tears streaming down your face beautifully, like diamonds in the dark sky.

It was today that Keigo unlocked the last love he ever thought he would have.

Pragma: committed, enduring love.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks fluff

185 notes · View notes

baubabble · 4 years

Text

“Diamonds and Dances” Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer used to date at the Academy. When you graduated, you broke it off. Later, when you are assigned to the BAU, old feelings resurface. When Hotch assigns the two of you to go undercover together at an event, how will those feelings evolve?

Word Count: 5258

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Cherry” by Harry Styles

Note: My first attempt at writing Spencer! Thank you for all the love on my Hotch series!

-------

“If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were.”― Kahlil Gibran

The case had finally hit a dead end.

You and the rest of the team were sitting in the Los Angeles FBI Field Office, staring at the ceiling. Four couples had been brutally murdered at local events over the past sixth months and so far, the local agents had nothing. When Garcia was given the request for assistance, Hotch had taken the case immediately.

You had been at the BAU for more than a year now and you had never been this frustrated. You could tell that the more seasoned agents such as Morgan and Rossi were just as annoyed that no leads were surfacing as well.

Spinning lazily in your chair, your eyes fell on Reid as they usually did. Spencer Reid was the one that got away in more ways than one. You and the doctor had met at the Academy and instantly hit it off. The two of you had dated for almost a year before you had broken it off. Spencer was going to the BAU and you were going to sex crimes. It was just the way it had to be. You were happy to make a clean break rather than trying to tackle a complicated relationship.

That is until Strauss had requested you to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had been hesitant at first for many reasons. Then, Aaron Hotchner had called you personally and encouraged you to take the position. He was aware of your history with Reid and said he would do his best to make sure the environment was as professional as possible.

Which is how you found yourself at a crossroads with your current case. “I’m about to shove pencils in my eyes,” Garcia said from beside you. Penelope had been asked to join the team on this case due to the unsub’s signature at hacking into security systems and traffic cams.

“You too?” you asked, turning to her.

“My brain has never felt tired before,” Garcia said. “Is this normal?”

“I think we all need some rest, Baby Girl,” Derek said as he rolled over to Penelope and began massaging her shoulders. You watched the action with a hint of envy. There was too much going on inside your head for anything right now. Pushing back from the table, you stood up.

“I need some air,” you announced and headed out of the conference room. The team watched after you for a moment before returning to their work, except one member’s eyes remained fixed on your exit.

------

Spencer Reid was the best problem solver the team had.

He never had problems with finding the missing puzzle piece in the case or analyzing a criminal’s motives. However, there was one problem, he couldn’t quite crack.

You.

Reid had never gotten over your breakup. He sat awake for nights after you had broken it off trying to figure out what he had done wrong. He had confided in everyone he knew. His mother said that you just weren’t the right person for him, but Spencer disagreed. You were perfect for him, perfect for each other. He didn’t know what went wrong. One day the two of you had been smiling, laughing, and then it was like a switch had flipped and you just ended it.

Then when you had joined the BAU, hope reentered Spencer’s mind. Perhaps this was a chance to tell you how he felt and maybe even rekindle something from years before. However, those thoughts were quickly dismissed when he overheard a conversation you were having with Penelope about a man named Robbie, your new boyfriend.

Watching the way your face lit up when you spoke about the new man in your life felt like ice to his heart. He remembered when you used to look like that when you spoke about him and now it was reserved for someone else. Shortly after this, he had confided in JJ about the issue, finally expressing his thoughts to another member of the team.

“It’s been years, Spence,” JJ had told him, rubbing his back affectionately as he sat on her couch watching Henry play with a new toy Will had bought him. “It’s normal for people to move on.”

“But I haven’t,” Spencer had said. “I haven’t, JJ, and I don’t know if I can handle seeing her every day and knowing she’s with someone else.”

“Who knows,” JJ had said, “maybe the universe will be in your favor.”

“You know I don’t believe in any of that.”

“Maybe just this once you can,” JJ had said before squeezing his arm and then dropping the subject altogether.

------

You stood out on the terrace of the field office, listening to the bustling city around you.

You never liked Los Angeles. It wasn’t like DC, there were too many people, too many skyscrapers, and the grating sound of traffic always made you want to scream. When you were working in sex crimes, you would head to the roof when things got too complicated to try and clear your mind. Most of the time it would work, other times, such as now, would just make you more irritated.

“You know, I’m not sure the air in this city is the best for clearing your head,” Hotch said as he exited out onto the terrace. You smiled to yourself as you stared out at the City of Angels.

“Did Penelope tell you to check on me?” you asked as he joined you at the railing.

“Maybe,” Hotch said with a shrug. “Are you okay?”

“Just frustrated,” you explained. “It’s been a while since we’ve been at such a big roadblock.”

“I wasn’t referring to the case, (Y/N),” Hotch said with a knowing look. You sighed, turning to look at him. “I’ve noticed you’ve seemed out of sorts for the past couple of weeks.”

“Which means the rest of the team has too,” you figured.

“Maybe, but they won’t confront you about it.”

“But you will?” you asked, amused.

“I’m your boss, it’s my job,” Hotch said. You smiled at that. “I’ve just seen a change in you and I’m assuming it is to do with your personal life.”

“Isn’t it always?” you asked with a chuckle. “I’m okay, Hotch. Just going through the awkward phase that happens after a breakup.” Hotch nodded in understanding.

“Ah, you and your boyfriend ended things,” he realized.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make a big deal about it. Especially at work,” you said with a look that conveyed more than the words you were saying.

“I completely understand,” said Hotch. “On the brighter side, I think we may have an idea on how to draw the unsub out.”

“Am I going to like it?” you asked. Hotch grimaced. “I’ll take that as a no.”

-------

You were right, you definitely didn’t like it.

“Undercover?” you asked as you leaned against the wall of the conference room. Spencer sat in his chair across the room from you, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s the best idea we’ve been able to come up with,” Rossi said, “plus, with your work in sex crimes, you have the most undercover hours next to Emily.” You held your tongue before you could suggest why Emily just couldn’t do it. “You are the unsub’s type and so is Reid. If we are correct about the profile and where he is hitting next, the two of you should be the perfect lure.”

When Hotch and Rossi explained that you and Spencer would be going undercover as a married couple to the next charity event in hopes of finally catching Daniel Hill, the unsub, you were less than thrilled. This would not be your first time going undercover, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that you would have to pretend to be married to Spencer and by the looks of it, he seemed even less than thrilled about the situation.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Hotch asked, glancing between you and Reid.

“No, Sir,” you said and Spencer shook his head.

“It may be a little bit awkward with (Y/N)’s boo,” Morgan joked and Penelope kicked him under the table. When you didn’t laugh, Derek realized what the look on your face meant. “Oh…(Y/L/N), I didn’t realize…”

“It’s fine,” you said, pushing off the wall. “Robbie and I are done. It’s been done for a bit now and I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with so none of us have to stay in this city any longer.”

“Amen to that,” Emily said.

“I’m going to send debrief packets to your hotel rooms,” Hotch said. “The event is tonight so I need you to be ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” you and Spencer said at the same time. Hotch then dismissed the rest of you and you headed for the door, needing to get back to the hotel and start preparing for the evening. Spencer caught up to you as you walked through the office.

“Hey,” he said, pulling you to a stop, “are you going to be okay with this?”

“Yes, Spencer,” you said. “It’s our job and we’ll get it done.”

“I know, but we haven’t really worked closely together since you joined and to put on an undercover operation like this…” he trailed off, but you could tell what he was thinking. You always could.

“Spencer,” you said softly, “do me a favor, okay?”

“Anything.”

“For the next ten hours or so, let’s not be (Y/N) and Spencer. I agree that we have never truly talked about what happened between us since I joined the team, but tonight is not the time. I want to, I do, but we need to get through this night. So, until we get this son of a bitch, we are just two agents on a mission. No baggage. Deal?” Spencer let out a breath, his eyes narrowing slightly as he mulled over your words. Eventually, he nodded.

“Deal.”

-----

The undercover packet had arrived just as you stepped out of the shower.

It was a basic cover. You and Spencer would be attending the event as Mr. and Mrs. Kelling, a wealthy couple from Maine. Your alias, Miranda Kelling, was nothing like you and that was how you preferred it. The more you could distance yourself from an undercover mission, the better. Spencer was playing Anderson Kelling and he was the president of a tech conglomerate that Garcia was writing up now. At least he would be able to cover for the both of you if anyone asked any questions.

A little bit later, a knock came at your door, and you were met with a smiling Penelope. In her hands was a white garment bag. “Please tell me it’s not pink,” you said as you let her in.”

“Oh, please,” Garcia scoffed. “You act as if I don’t know you at all. Undercover or not, I know you would never wear pink.” You laughed quietly as Garcia laid the bag out on the bed and unzipped it.

The dress was simple. A dark eggplant color that was low in the back and high at the neck. The slit was tasteful and knowing Garcia, it would fit you perfectly. However, while it was beautiful, your heart jumped just looking at it. The color of the gown was the same color as the dress you had worn on your first date with Spencer when he had taken you to a film festival. Whether Penelope knew that or not, didn’t matter. You knew it would matter to him.

“Do you like it?” Garcia asked. You nodded, unable to speak. “I can get something else if you don’t.”

“Penelope, it’s great,” you said, “really. Please tell me you have shoes to go with it.” Garcia then smiled and held up the other bag in her hands.

“Strappy or pumps?” she asked, shaking the bag before you. You gave in and laughed along with your friend as you let her accessorize you for the gala.

It was another hour before Garcia left to meet up with Morgan and JJ who were outfitting their security van that would be parked in the loading zone of the venue. The next time someone knocked on your door. You knew who it would be.

Pulling the door open, Spencer stood there with his hands in his pockets and his signature smile. You stepped aside and he entered, looking around the room awkwardly. “Did you read through the packet?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

“Twice,” you assured him. “Is that why you’re here? To make sure I did my homework?” you asked, amusement in your eyes. He rolled his eyes and you could tell he was starting to loosen up a bit more.

“I just wanted to make sure we were on the same side for the cover,” he explained “And to give you this,” he said as he dug into his pocket and produced a small velvet box.

“Ah,” you said, realizing what it was. He handed it to you and you took it quickly, placing it down next to the necklace Garcia had brought for you to wear. You didn’t want to open it in front of Reid. Everything was already awkward enough. “So, Mr. Kelling,” you began, “tell me about your company.”

The two of you went back and forth asking questions about each other’s covers. Pretending to be other people was actually helping you talk to him. Thinking of him as this imaginary husband was much easier than staring into those warm brown eyes and seeing the man who once held you like you were the most important thing in the universe.

“You know,” Spencer said as he lay on his back on your bed, “Morgan was supposed to do this with you.”

“Derek? Undercover as a tech guy?” you asked with a laugh. Reid sat up and looked at you as you sat at the small table, your file in your hands. He smiled softly as you chuckled. “That would have been something to see.”

“Maybe next time,” Spencer said. “You know, once he’s had more time to prepare. Hotch asked me because I didn’t have to do any additional research. I would have said no, but we need to find this guy and since we’ve already gotten his accomplice, I just thought—”

“Spencer,” you said, cutting him off, “you’re running on fumes.” He took a breath. That was something you always said when he started rambling when he got nervous. It was also something he did when he was avoiding what he was actually saying.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said, “but just for the record, I’m not upset you were assigned to do this mission with me.”

“You’re not?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Nope,” you said and it was the truth. In fact, you were just incredibly nervous about being this close to him for the first time in years. “So stop stressing. Everything is going to work out fine.” You got up and approached him. You gripped him by the shoulders and looked at him in the eye. “Now, go put on your tux so we can get this bastard.”

------

You stood in front of the floor-length mirror as you fussed with the gown.

Garcia sure did know how to pick ballgowns. The deep purple dress fit you perfectly. Paired with the nude heels and the light jewelry, you looked as expensive as Miranda Kelling was supposed to be. The large diamond sat on your left hand felt way too heavy. You lifted your hand to your face, tilting it so the diamond glittered in the low light.

When you had first lifted the lid to the box, your eyes had widened at the sheer size of the diamond. Apparently Rossi knew someone in LA with ties to a jeweler and you were renting the piece for the evening. Just placing it on your finger felt...wrong. And not just because of the price, but because you imagined the first time you wore a wedding ring it would on your actual wedding day and not for a sting.

The thought of Spencer having a matching band on his left hand sent a thrill through you that you weren’t expecting. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about it in the past. When the two of you were together at the academy, the subject of marriage had come up frequently. It was always said with a bout of laughter afterward. Neither of you had ever said anything to make the other think that you were being serious, but at times, you definitely were. Snapping out of your thoughts, you finished your look with a swipe of lipstick and then headed for the door.

Stepping out into the lobby of the garish hotel, you spotted Rossi immediately. He was dressed as a chauffeur as he would be the one to take you and Reid to the event to keep up appearances. Walking around the corner, you finally saw your date for the evening. Spencer wore a perfectly tailored tuxedo. His hair was combed and his shoes shined in the glittering light of the chandelier that swung above him. Hearing the clicks of your heels, he turned towards you and his mouth fell open.

He quickly controlled his expression, but you had seen it. The look in his eyes as he beheld you strolling towards him. It was a familiar look, one he had given you in the past and everything began flooding back. You tried to ignore it as you joined him and Rossi. “This is all very ‘James Bond’,” you said, looking at the three of you.

“Well, just go easy on the martinis you two,” Rossi said with a small smile. Then from his pocket, he produced a white rose. “Morgan got the partner to talk and he agreed to help if we offered him a deal. He made the call and told Hill that the target this evening will be with a beautiful woman and wearing this on his jacket,” Rossi said as he tucked the rose into Spencer’s lapel.

“Great, nothing says ‘murder me’ like a rose,” Spencer muttered as he adjusted the flower. You smiled to yourself at his attempt at a joke. Rossi was watching both you, his eyes flickering back and forth.

“Just stick to the plan and this will all be over before you know it,” Rossi said as he gestured you out to the car. You and Reid followed him, neither of you saying anything. You had expected it to be awkward, but this felt...alien. It was also starting to become clear why Hotch had assigned you to this mission with Spencer. He most likely figured you wouldn’t have to do much acting, but seeing him dressed up and with that wedding band on his finger, you felt as if you were looking at a stranger. You had no idea how you were going to make it through the evening.

-----

Arriving at the venue, Rossi helped you from the car, giving your arm a final squeeze before leaving you in Spencer’s capable hands.

As Rossi drove away, Reid held out his arm to you. Slipping into the character of Miranda Kelling, you took his arm and smiled at him warmly. Spencer, or rather, Anderson, smiled back and led you into the venue.

The party was fit for Los Angeles. The garish decorations were shiny metallic and smartly dressed waiters milled around with flutes of champagne. The other patrons were dressed just as well as the two of you and as they laughed, more champagne was poured and more money was spent. You weren’t even sure what charity they were supporting at the event.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, trying to pick up on any agents, but Hotch had said nobody was going to be on the floor except for the two of you. Hill was too smart and would pick them out in a heartbeat.

You and Spencer walked around the room, keeping close to one another. As a waiter passed by, you grabbed a flute off the tray and drank half in one go. The liquid courage did nothing to satiate the nerves that bubbled in your stomach. As you finished your drink, you looked for another, but Spencer had stepped in front of you, giving you a concerned look.

“What?” you asked, keeping your face pleasant in case the unsub or others were watching.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “I know you aren’t thrilled to be with me tonight, but I can also tell that something else is bothering you.”

“Very perceptive,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “Look, I can’t talk to you about this right now.” He sighed and then took your hand. To anyone else, it would just look like a husband holding his wife’s hand, but you knew he was feeling for your pulse point. Something he always did when he wanted you to tell him the truth. It was both charming and infuriating.

“Is this about Robbie?” Spencer asked and your hand froze in his grip. He nodded to himself as he realized he had finally guessed right. “He never deserved you.” You took your hand back and tried to walk away. However, Spencer had another idea. Gently taking your wrist, Reid pulled you to the dance floor, spinning you into his arms.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you played along, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his right hand. The two of you swayed back and forth in silence for a moment before he finally spoke again. “You look so beautiful,” he said softly.

“Spencer,” you sighed, dropping your gaze to the buttons on his shirt, “please don’t.”

“Why?” he asked.

“You know why,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He looked down at you as if you were the only person in the room and it took you back to the first time you had danced with him.

It was at an event the Academy hosted for the new recruits. The two of you had just met during orientation and he had been bold enough to ask you to dance when he noticed you sitting by yourself at a lone table. Both of you had been very awkward on your feet, but you had managed to get a rhythm going and among all the laughter and stepping on toes, it had been the first step in developing feelings for the man before you.

“I noticed the color of your dress as soon as you walked into the lobby,” Spencer said, his fingers curling tighter around your own. “I always did love you in purple.” Ducking your head, you rested your forehead against his chest, just trying not to think about his hand on your waist or the fact that he was wearing the same cologne he always did. The one that smelled like wood and parchment. Reid pulled you in closer, his hand moving to the small of your back.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered.

“I don’t want you to think about him,” Reid said, turning you both in a slow circle, “because I can’t do it anymore.” Pulling back, you looked up at him with curious eyes.

“Do what?” you asked.

“All those months when you were with him… seeing you smile when you and Garcia spoke about him or when he would drop flowers off for you at the office,” Spencer sighed. “I couldn’t handle it, (Y/N).” Hearing that confession slip from his lips made you stumble in your heels. He kept his hands tight on you, keeping you steady. Just as he always had. “I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

Your eyes fell closed at his words and every emotion you had tried to shove down since the day the two of you had parted ways came surging back into the forefront of your mind. Spencer Reid was looking at you as if you hung the moon and while he would probably say something along the lines of ‘that’s impossible, a human wouldn’t be able to hang the moon’, that was what you saw in his eyes.

“Don’t you remember?” he continued.

“Spencer…” you said, but he couldn’t stop.

“My mom, (Y/N),” he said. “Don’t you remember how much she loves you? You were one of the only people who could keep her calm and she loved to tell you stories about the things she’s learned over the years. I remember everything about our time together.”

“You have an eidetic memory,” you reminded him.

“That’s not the reason I remember,” he said, placing his hand under your chin. You couldn’t help the tears that pricked your eyes at his words. At that moment, the mission was forgotten and everything was moving in slow motion. “Tell me, (Y/N),” he said, “tell me that you don’t love me, Tell me and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t do that,” you whispered. A small gasp escaped him at your confession and it was as if his entire body relaxed at your words. Spencer leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours, drinking you in. The orchestra in the background played a score fit for the moment and if you weren’t supposed to be on duty, you would have stayed in that moment forever. Spencer pulled back and glanced down at your lips, but before either of you could move in closer, you spotted a man watching the two of you.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked.

“Hill,” you whispered, plastering a fake smile on your face as you looked up at your fake husband. “He’s dressed as a caterer. The long scar on his cheek is just as the partner said. Looks like Morgan’s interrogation techniques are getting better.” Spencer took you and spun you around so he could get a visual, glancing briefly before grinning down at you. He then lifted your left hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“Shall we go somewhere more private, Mrs. Kelling?” he asked and you nodded, taking him by the hand and dragging him towards the service hall. Everything in you was fighting to stay focused as you slipped back into your FBI persona. With Spencer’s confession, work was the last thing you wanted to do, but this man had killed enough people and the two of you were the last chance to take him down.

You and Reid pushed into the hallway, giggling like drunk teenagers.

You stumbled on your dress and he held you up, pulling on his bow tie. It didn’t take long for the killer to follow. You and Spencer were pressed against a wall, Reid’s hands going into your hair. He smiled down at you and slinked away as if you were playing a game. When he went to follow you, that’s when you were grabbed from behind.

“Move and she dies,” Hill said, waving his gun around. Spencer raised his hands in mock surrender and then he looked at you. “On your knees!” Hill yelled, but Spencer didn’t move. With a quick nod to you, you slammed your stiletto into the top of his foot. A shot rang out as the bullet pierced the ceiling, but you both moved faster. Spencer grabbed hold of the unsub as you took the gun from his grasp. Reid spun Hill around and slammed him into the floor.

“FBI,” Spencer said, “Daniel Hill, you are under arrest for the murders of Caitlin and Adam Dever, Brooke and Ryan Wood, Joanne and James Black, and Greta and Lewis Joy…” as Spencer continued to read him his rights, you disabled the gun and let out a deep breath. From your right, Hotch and Prentiss came running down the hall, their guns were drawn. JJ and Morgan weren’t far behind.

As Spencer got Hill to his feet, you turned and walked away. There was too much going on inside your mind and you had to get air. Walking past, Morgan, you placed the confiscated gun into his hands as you continued to move past your team. You could hear Reid calling out to you, but you couldn’t stop moving. You just needed to think.

-----

Once everything had calmed down, you all went back to your respective hotel rooms.

As soon as your door closed behind you, your heels were off and you headed right for the balcony. Garcia had texted you earlier and told you Hill would be processed and that Rossi and Emily had gotten a full confession out of him and his partner. That was enough for you to relax a little bit further, but there was still the issue of what happened before.

Then, as if the universe was listening there was a knock on your door. Pulling the sliding door behind you, you went to your door. You didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was. Unlocking the chain, you pulled open the door and were met with Spencer. He was still wearing his disheveled tuxedo, but his hair was no longer neat. It was how he always wore, the way you loved it. In his hand was a single yellow lily, your favourite flower.

You stepped aside and invited him in, closing the door quietly behind you. “You just left,” he said as you turned to face him. His long fingers were holding the flower by its stem, twirling it around.

“I just needed time, Spencer.”

“I know,” he said with a soft smile and then offered you the flower. You took it, pressing its petals to your nose. “I know how you think (Y/N), which is why I waited a bit before showing up here.”

“You always did know me best,” you said as you lay the lily on the stand by the door.

“I still like to think I do,” he said, reaching for your hand. You let him take it as you had earlier on the dance floor. He dragged you towards him, placing his hands on your hips gently. “You are so incredible,” he whispered.

“I never cared about him as much as I cared for you, Spencer,” you admitted. “When I broke things off after we graduated from the Academy, I thought I was doing us a favor. I thought it would be too complicated, that we would struggle with the time apart. I was so wrong. I am so sorry that I didn’t believe in us enough to stay.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks at this point and Spencer was shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize, (Y/N),” he said. “I understand. I think I always did, but I meant what I said earlier: I never stopped loving you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“And you think I did?” you asked. “God, Spencer, I love you so much and I should have told you the moment I walked into the BAU.” Spencer’s face split into a grin and he didn’t even hesitate to pull you into him. His lips met yours and your hands wound into his unruly hair. Light burst behind your eyes as the two of you finally said hello once again. Spencer Reid was the one for you and you would never doubt that ever again.

“One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.”― Paulo Coelho

#Spencer Reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #reader insert #spencer reid x reader #cm #cm imagine #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #jj #derek morgan #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Charming Girl (J.JK x Reader) 🎀☁️💜🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Good Girl!AU, Angst (a bit), Fluff, Smut of course because I can’t write anything normal these days smh

Warnings: Koo has a fight with his GG and says some mean things, Taehyung has a brief appearance and it’s actually all sfw and fluffy but he curses a lot so beware, smut, usage of toys (a vibrator to be specific), manhandling/restriction of movement, GG swallows because y’all should empty the plate when the meal is good, Mentions of past infidelity and overall toxic relationship, there’s a scene where Jk spits in GGs mouth, pls don’t judge lmao

Summary: Jungkook really didn’t mean to say the things he did. He’s not even sure how his brain could even come up with such hurtful things; yet he did, and now, knowing that you’ve taken shelter in Taehyungs apartment out of all places, he’s forced to clean up his mess- and for the first time he can’t ask you for help.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban @teresaisla @tangledsparkles

You had everything planned out. You even thought about making an entire PowerPoint presentation on why this was a good idea, why this should be done immediately; yet you decided against it, simply planning on explaining it to him the traditional way instead of overdoing it. This was technically his apartment after all, you were simply living with him and sharing rent and space.

Ever since you were small, your family had pets. Your parents had a dog that died sadly when you were young, later on you got your own pet; a guinea pig named Harold, whom you had all throughout your childhood. Harold died of old age when you were barely 14, and you felt as if your heart had been ripped out and buried in your yard instead of the small Tricoloured body. Ever since then you had promised yourself to get another pet when you were older.

When you had your first relationship, it lasted for a year or so, your ex had never wanted a pet. He'd complained that it was as if he was getting a child- and that he wasn't ready to be a dad yet. So you never got one during that time, even though time and space were there.

Now at 22, you had the space and time (and money most importantly), yet you didn’t have the approval of your dear housemate and boyfriend living with you. You didn’t really think it would be an issue honestly; he’d always been an animal lover- so you couldn’t quite understand the situation you got yourself in.

„But look, I’m gonna do all the work, I’ll only have them in my room, you won’t even notice they’re there!“ you whined, walking after him out of the kitchen. You knew you were being a little childish; he’d said two times already that no, not right now, and no, because no. He couldn’t quite give you a full answer that could satisfy you, and you had already noticed that he was grumpy, but you had grown so safe around him that you didn’t spot the warning signs.

„God y/n can you please sh-...“ he inhaled, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. „Please, not now. I’m really not in the mood.“ he said, and you pouted at him. Usually he would find it cute, but right now he was too riled up to really let his vision lead his thoughts. He’d recently started to get more and more agitated whenever he came home, always tired and frustrated. And he didn’t tell you what it was, so maybe that had fueled your pettiness towards him.

„Well tomorrow you’re gonna be grumpy too!“ you said, raising your hands, before facing him. „If you can’t tell me why not then I’m doing it anyways! I’m not just going to blindly do what you want just because-„ you said, but he suddenly snapped, voice way more forceful than yours, making you back off a bit.

„Yeah well if you would do what I said you wouldn’t be standing here throwing a tamper tantrum like a fucking toddler!“ he yelled, taking your opening mouth as another attempt in trying to persuade him. You actually however, wanted to apologize. Those words died down inside your throat when his next left his lips. „Can’t you act your age just for a second? I’m really into fucking you, but also acting like a father isn’t on my list of favorites, thank you very much-„

It was almost comical how his own voice slowly lost volume and tune at the end of his sentence, as soon as he saw the way your eyes widened, face evolving into a look of something he never wanted to see, let alone because of him; it was a look of betrayal, hurt, and even shame- because deep down he knew there was a spark of honesty in between his words, but he also knew that this was you, this was something you couldn’t control. And he’d just used these insecurities and flaws against you.

Your delicate hands suddenly clenched, creating small but angry fists, unraveling just to weakly Push his chest, eyes suddenly swimming with frustrated water that trickled down your cheeks. He just stood there frozen, forced to watch how you stormed away into your room, not even his bedroom you two had been sharing these nights, and he still stood in the exact same spot when you emerged again with your small pink sportsbag, rushing past him and leaving his apartment with nothing more than the lingering scent of you, and the suffocating feeling of his own voice still heavy in the air. A chuckle escaped him, lacking any form of happiness or humor as he began to sob into his hand trying to keep his emotions inside. The wall next to him cracked loudly as his knuckles came in contact with it; breaking skin and wall the same, yet the pain he felt inside his soul was greater than the sting of his scratched up hand.

Right now, Jeon Jungkook really hated himself.

You didn’t have high hopes honestly, and as the door opened, you only looked at the mismatched socks of the older friend of Jungkook. Alex didn‘t have an own apartment, and you honestly didn’t have enough money to stay at a hotel, so Taehyung had been the only option left. You had his number still, and he’d answered to your text that he was home; yet you still had some worry down your throat that he wouldn’t let you in. He simply opened the door fully, leading you inside, and showing you were to hang your jacket and leave your shoes.

His apartment wasn’t huge, but it was nice; you didn’t expect what you saw at all. It was warm, it smelled nice- not like your own home of course, but you’d expected his living space to be a bit more.. chaotic. He was quiet, walking into the kitchen and pouring two cups of something, before placing them down on his living room table. Here and there you could spot small things that showed he lived there; his Juul on the windowsill next to his balcony door, polaroids taped onto the wall, or his sweater halfheartedly thrown over the couch. You sat down on the edge of said seating place, your pink socks running over his light wood laminate. It was scratched, showed that he’d moved the furniture a couple of times since he lived here. Your eyes snapped towards the soft looking slippers he tossed next to your feet, shoe size way too small to be his. „My uhm-„ he scratched his head a bit before actually looking a bit shy. „My girlfriend she.. her feet get cold easily on my flooring so uhm, you can use these.“ he said, and for the first time you actually looked at him. His red hair was gone, dyed pitch black, a little curly too- it suited him well, you decided. „Ah yeah I- Guess I wanted a change.“ he said, going into the kitchen to shut down the lights before sitting down, looking at you. „So.. trouble in paradise huh?“ he said, taking a sip of his cup, eyes watching you.

You felt your eyes sting again, and Taehyubg Shuffle around in his spot. “I just..” you said, before reaching for the mug, hands uncaring of the hot temperature seeping into your skin, taking it as a punishment in a weird way. “I didn’t think About him you know? I mean, he told he he likes to take care of me but.. maybe he changed his mind?“ you said, shrugging your shoulders and sighing. „Sorry to invade like that too..“ tryout mumbled, back arching as if to cower. Taehyung clicked his tongue, crossing his legs.

„You’re Not, don’t worry.“ he said, setting his cup down with a crack against the table. His hands were so different from Jungkooks you noticed; fingers longer and thinner, nails wide. He was a tall person, so it made sense. „Jungkook can be.. difficult.“ he said, leaning his head on his hand. „He doesn’t show it but he’s clumsy. That combined with his usefulness when it comes to apologizing doesn’t really make a good mix.“ he admitted, smirking a bit as his phone lit up from the table, showing a notification from Jungkook, before vibrating a bit again and again, stopping at the count of 12. he didn’t comment on it, but continued. „I don’t think he meant what he said in a bad way. I guess he’s having a bad day, which doesn’t make it better honestly.“ he shrugged, and you bit your lip. „Also lean back a bit will ya? You look like you’re about to break a bone.“ he said, and you sat down more properly.

„I’m worried Taehyung.“ you said. „He.. I really like him, but I’m so scared he’ll get tired of me.“ you mumbled, finally taking a sip, hot chocolate swishing over your tongue, liquid warming your throat as you swallowed. „They all do.“ you whispered into the cup, and Taehyung got serious.

„Have you’ve been in a relationship before?“ he asked, and you nodded.

„Hmhm.. he cheated when he noticed I wanted to wait longer than he did. He stayed with me though because I paid for dinner. His words by the way.“

Taehyung laughed humorously, giving you a look of empathy. „Dickhead.“ he said. „Listen, Jungkook doesn’t know how relationships work. He’s horrible at it honestly, worse than me.“ he said, laughing a bit. „He doesn’t know jackshit about stuff, so you gotta teach him.“ he said. „I’m honestly surprised you both are together at all. Cause he knows this, and he never continues in things he’s bad at.“ you nodded at this. Though he knew Jungkook way longer than you did, you also knew this small detail about him. You'd wondered several times before, but you've never asked him openly about his actual dating history. If you were honest you didn't even knew if he had one to begin with. Maybe he'd always been like he was before you? You couldn't know. "What I'm trying to say is-" Taehyung said, breaking the silence, before standing up and patting your head a bit playfully to cheer you up. "Give it time. Don't try and fix things this time; let him do the work for once. God knows he needs a slap in the face once in a while, you've been babying him too much." He laughed, and you actually smiled as well. Maybe you really did need to wait. After all, his words had hurt deep down in your soul, leaving you embarrassed and insecure- he should get his cut of the cake as well. Sharing is caring, and all that.

Whatever the fuck that was he did that night, it definitely hadn't been sleeping, that much was clear to him. He honestly looked like shit, he'd been told at work, and after several hours of snapping at his coworkers because of his headache, he'd been sent home for the rest of the remaining day, leaving him to visit his local doc and calling in sick for the last two days of the week. He highly doubted that he'd gain enough energy to really get anything done- having made mistakes over and over again today, leaving him with a feeling of uselessness. And the worst part?

Coming home.

Now usually, this would be his favorite part; he'd lay his head onto your lap while you looked at something on your laptop in the living room, or he'd get to catch you silently humming along a song on your phone while you cooked something. But he'd fucked things up these days, so his apartment had gotten a stale aftertaste as he walked through his door, nothing greeting him but silence. The lights were off, darkness swallowing the rooms until he switched them on. Has his lights always been so cold? He never noticed anymore whenever you were there.

He knew he was supposed to do something, but exactly that was the issue. He didn't knew what- because even if he asked you for forgiveness, it wouldn't make up for the crack that he'd seen in your eyes, not to mention how he didn't feel like he deserved it at all. He knew you would accept his apology as soon as he'd say it to you, and that made it so much worse for him. He couldn't even start to imagine how easy prey you were for men- and not in any way good.

This had become an issue over time. He felt like he had to protect you from everything it seemed, yet he also wanted you to become more independent- but there was the issue. He was actually scared. Because if you started to become less and less dependent on him,

would you still want him, if you didn't need him?

This had been a question riling him up greatly. It popped up randomly in his head, making it hard to really think of anything else- because deep down there was this voice, telling him that no; as soon as you found the amount of confidence you should have, considering your angelic character in his eyes- you'd start to see what an actual asshole he was. He'd never understood what exactly you saw in him to begin with. Sure, he had the looks kind of, he knew that from the amount of flirty comments he'd get, but character wise he was an absolute garbage can. He was picky, needy of being held in high standards, he craved praise and recognition. He was selfish, wanted everything for himself, and hated sharing anything. He was too honest, swore way too much, and had a chaotic way of keeping track of things.

He'd punched the poor wall in the living room again last night, the remnants still lingering like a bleeding wound, white dust from the broken material scattered over the dark carpet. After he'd heard you went to Taehyung out of all people, he'd completely lost it- eventually falling asleep on the couch, crying like a toddler after a tantrum. Ironic, since he'd called you one, when in reality it seemed that he was the immature one in this relationship.

This time he simply let himself fall onto the couch, a stray blanket still crumpled up pathetically on the cushions, looking almost how he felt. He knew he should do something, but he couldn't get himself to- simply falling onto his side, just to fall asleep, dreams haunting him much worse than before without you there to soothe him.

After staying with Taehyung and his Girlfriend for two days, you felt like you were intruding, in a way. You also didn't like to run away anymore, deciding to face whatever would be waiting for you at home. Jungkooks friend had driven you, asking if he should come upstairs with you but you had declined- this was something you needed to do by yourself.

To say the apartment was a mess was an understatement. Empty noodle cups on the kitchen counter, sink filled with dishes. The bathroom door was open, showing that he'd been showering just recently it seemed, yet the clothes on the floor made you wonder if it was in a hurry. Even though he was chaotic, Jungkook was never really messy in a way. But the way everything looked told a different story.

You also noticed just how dark it was. The curtains were closed, room stuffy from not airing out like you did every morning, and the couch looked like he slept on it. But why? Even if he felt bad, he could at least sleep in his own bed, you wondered.

But you also noticed the lack of the person in question.

Worried, you crept into the bedroom, not finding him there. What helped to ease your mind however was, that his open dresser was still filled with clothes- he didn't leave.

So wherever he was, maybe at work? You decided to clean up, and get things a bit more comfortable around the small apartment. He did tell you to be mature, after all.

Opening the apartment door with a bit of struggle considering the items in his hands, he instantly noticed something different. Maybe it was the fresh air, the amount of light in the apartment, or the fact that soft music played in the background, dishes clattering in the kitchen. He slowly set down everything he'd bought, almost tip-toeing into his home, eyes widening upon your form standing in front of the sink, hands occupied inside soapy water. You didn't turn around, but he could see in the way you bit your lip that you'd noticed him already, yet chose not to look at him. You feared one look would be enough to set you off, make you cry, and you knew this would probably end up as something new he could complain about. Okay, maybe not, you knew he wouldn't, but you were so unsure how to act around him now that it just felt.. awkward.

And Jungkook hated it.

He chewed on his lip as well, moving to get the stuff he'd bought set up inside the living room, wordlessly working on setting down the doggy bed, placing the other bags filled with food and toys down as well. You couldn't help but peak around the corner, almost comically leaning behind the wall between the kitchen and living room, only showing a fraction of your face. Jungkook actually chuckled at the picture you posed to him as, although it did sting a bit that you seemed too cautious around him now to actually get closer. "Can you come over here for a second please?" He timidly asked, and you looked a bit hesitant, before eventually walking closer to him, sitting on the floor in front of him, with a bit of space keeping you both apart. He sighed, before lowering his head. "I.. You can't imagine how fucking sorry I am for what I said. I didn't.. I had no right to talk to you like that, and I really fucking regret it." He said, making you nod, not looking at him either, occupying yourself with a stray string of your sock that you'd accidentally put on inside out. "I'm just.. I dont know how to actually explain it without sounding like an ass, so I'll just.." He started, running a hand through his rather long hair. "I've been noticing how you started to change like, you're becoming so much more confident and I love it, I really do, but at the same time it absolutely terrifies me because-" He sighed, scratching his neck and hand reaching out to you, not really grabbing or anything, but simply brushing against your smaller hand with his finger. It was a pathetic gesture really, but he had to clear his throat again before he spoke. "The more you can stand up for yourself, the less you'll need me, and I.. I know I sound like an asshole but I need you to need me, I just.. I need to have you lean on me and like, make me do shit for you because I'm selfish, yeah, I'll admit it. I'm a fucking dick who needs to get his ego stroked and-" Suddenly your hand grabbed his, both hands running over his tattooed skin on the back of his, and he looked at you with the eyes of desperation written in capslock. You smiled at him, so understanding and warm that he felt like crying.

"I'll always need you Jungkookie." You said, scooting forward and straddling him, burying your head into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him as he wrapped his arms around you, his head in the crook of your neck. "Who's gonna kick someones butt when they bully me in PvP games?" You said, and he chuckled, laughing, and pulled you even closer for a moment before you pulled away from him, brushing his hair out of his eyes and intentionally messily wiping his eyes, making him grin and laugh before grabbing your wrists, kissing your nose, cheeks, your entire face before you gasped for air from laughing so hard, begging him to stop. "What do you-" You said, catching your breath. "What is all that though?" You asked, and he pulled out his phone out of his back pocket, sniffling still a bit as he tapped away on his cracked screen, before he showed you a picture of a small white puppy, pink tongue peaking out of its mouth as it looked at the camera. You squealed, before connecting the dots. The dog toys. The bags filled with food. "No way.." You said, eyes wide as he became a bit shy.

"I know you wanted something small, but.. I found her on our local shelter's website, and I met her yesterday. I thought, a dog could be a good addition-" He said, before you hugged him again, squealing into his chest and making him chuckle. "Don't let yourself be fooled though." His eyebrows raised as he playfully looked at you in a serious way. "She's your personal bodyguard- an absolute killer machine if someone gets too close, we already talked about that." And you had to snort at the image in your head, imagining Jungkook all serious talking to the white fluffy dog about guarding his owner. "We're getting here on Monday, so we got two more days to go until then." He said, and you nodded, not letting go of him. He ran his hand over your head, suddenly more serious again. "I really mean it though." You raised your head at that, looking at him questioningly. "I.. I really like how you are. Deep down I guess I know that you're actually the mature one in this, so I guess I at least want to feel as if I have the upper hand, you know?" He said, and you smiled at that.

"Well, you do though." You said, leaning your head to the side before toying with the hem of his shirt. He looked at you now, before you answered. "I still.. trust you." Your voice got a bit breathier, before you said your next sentence. "You can do all you want with me. I'm yours after all." And he groaned, letting his head fall back. "What?" You questioned amused.

"Don't say shit like that right now-" He whined, trying to force the image of the cute puppy into his head instead of you, lying underneath him in all your glory, ready for him to- nop, no no no, cute puppies, cute puppies. But you didn't understand his standpoint it seemed.

"But why though? Don't you.. you know, want to?" You said hesitantly.

He shook his head. "No, you know I kind of always want to but.. I don't want you to feel as if that's all I want." He said, looking stressed. You smiled again, leaning into him.

"I mean, that's not true. I know that." You answered, before getting a teasing spark inside your eyes. "Either that, or its so good that you go as far as to get me a cute puppy." You chuckled, and his eyes got just as impish as yours, hand smacking your behind in a playful way.

"Careful. You could charm anyone into buying you a dog with those eyes." He said, smirking. You grinned proudly, and he suddenly attacked your neck, lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder, the sound of your laughter music to his ears. He actually hadn't slept in his own bedroom solely because of the reason that he'd be tormented with the memories of you both, showing him almost mockingly what he'd almost lost. Now he didn't feel pressured anymore, he felt as if he was worthy enough to be in here, as weird as it sounded.

Letting you fall onto the mattress, you giggled as you jumped a bit on it, making him grin as he crawled over your form, immediately attacking your lips in a searing kiss, not even asking for entrance at all, simply taking. He slowly grew more and more impatient, hands grabbing and running over your skin almost possessively as he growled out his displeasure about your choice of shelter. He didn't say it out loud because he had no right to talk about it, plus he was deep down grateful that you've spent the night there instead of somewhere else, but he hated the fact that you slept over at Taehyungs place. He knew you'd never be unfaithful, yet he couldn't help but feel insecure when you left, knowing that you could easily find someone else, someone better in his eyes than him. The time apart made him cherish you again in a new way, teeth biting your skin gently, leaving marks on your skin that would soon blossom beautifully in different shades. You mewled at that, his grin reappearing, before he opened his infamous drawer under his bedside table, taking something out that seemed to be still packaged. You looked curiously, yet turned all shades of pink when you saw what it was.

"Hm.. you like it princess?" He asked, opening the plastic and cardboard packaging of the device as you began to grow a little more restless at the sight of it. It appeared to be a vibrator of some sorts, coloring just the way you liked it- soft pink with white details, making you wonder how on earth something so sinful could also look so pretty. You'd never really cared for toys like that, but Jungkook had talked about maybe using them before. "Thought you'd like it." He said lowly. "You're gonna love it once I'm done with you." He promised, glad that he saw the small green LED light up- it luckily came pre-charged, so he could use it right away after he'd cleaned it with a babywipe. "Hm, lets see what it can do, yeah?" he huskily proposed, sitting on his legs in front of you. "Strip princess. Lemme' see my gorgeous baby." He said, and you started to undress just as he told you. You've long stopped feeling self-conscious around him after all the times he'd seen you, and he also always made sure to make you feel good about yourself, so you didn't hesitate anymore when it came to things like these.

As soon as you laid there, bare as the day you joined humanity, he used the tip of the toy to gather your slick between your legs, nudging against your very center, making you jump a bit at the foreign feeling. He smiled like the devil himself as he covered it in your own personal lubrication, before it entered you, making you sigh. It definitely couldn't match up to his own length, that was something you immediately noticed, but once he clicked a button, your whines started to sound in the room, making him smile at the view of your squirming form. Oh how long he'd imagined about this exact moment, the way you moved even more bewitching as he could've imagined to be. His mind tried to burn the image into its memory, the way your toes curled, your hands grabbed the sheets, or how your hips moved in a rhythm only you seemed to feel. "hmm, so sweet. You look absolutely divine like that pretty baby." He hummed, before turning the intensity up, making you gasp a bit. He chuckled, moving the vibrator around a bit so the additional small detail close to the switches and buttons pressed against your clit, making you huff out deliciously. He'd always been addicted to your sounds, the way you responded to him oh so well- he felt like he was watching a goddess unravel in his bed, as cheesy as it may sounded. The way you trusted him, gave yourself to him, let him control you like this- it made him feel as if he was on drugs, higher than he could ever get from any substance people used to cloud their minds with. He didn't need anything illegal or toxic to set himself free and let his mind reset back into place. Not when he had someone like you at his mercy, ready to be played with however he may wanted.

As his free hand moves to fondle your breast, kneading the flesh in an almost massaging way and kissing you silly, you yelled out his name as you came undone, breaking apart just to be put together by him later. Your mouth was open in a silent scream, and as he spotted the small strand of saliva still connecting you both he couldn't stop himself from letting a drop of his own fall onto your tongue, pupils dilating at the way you simply swallowed, uncaring how just plain dirty this entire tiny gesture just was. God he'd buy you an entire kennel full of dogs if it meant he'd get to see you like this, all his and his only. He decided to not enter you as you still whined from overstimulation, taking the toy out of you as you weakly reached for him, asking him to help you sit on a little. He helped you as you clumsily tokk him into your mouth, eyes closed and pace steady as he began to groan under his breath, brushing his hand through your hair as he fondly looked down onto your head, lips around him so perfectly that it didn't take him long to suddenly gasp out, giving him no time to warn you. Yet he only felt you swallow before letting him go, his tip sensitive making him hiss a bit, breathing heavy. "God you're perfect." He breathed out, kissing you feverishly as he slowly calmed down, laying on the bed, toy long forgotten on the floor next to the mattress.

You woke up as you felt something cold and weirdly damp against your inner thighs, spotting Jungkooks naked torso as he took out another babywipe, cleaning you with gentle movements. The soft smell of the wet tissues made you smile a bit, as Jungkook used one to clean himself up as well before joining you in bed again, pulling the covers over you. "I really mean it you know." He said, and you hummed questioningly. "I know I don't say it very often if at all but.." he looked at your face with fondness, before he pulled you closer again, letting you rest your head on his bare chest. "I really love you." He said silently, and you smiled, kissing his skin as he placed one to your shoulder, his hand running along your spine.

"I really love you too, Jungkookie." You said, before falling asleep, content and happy in his arms.

"I can't wait to see you holding the pink leash of the cute little princess."

"Do you mean the dog or you? Because I wouldn't mind holding eithe- OW, WHY DID YOU HIT ME?!"

#bts #bts imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #jungkook smut

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sincerelystranger · 3 years

Note

Omg!! I love your new piece, it depicts grief more realistically. Lwj of course cannot be the same and happily forgets 13 years of grief. I can’t wait to read the finished piece. And if your muse strikes, please write a fluffy, funny modern au piece of wangxian to see how lwj’s love changes or deepens or evolves without grief.

Thank you so much, and I’m sorry it took me forever to answer this! First, I want to preface this by saying that I don’t think that there is wangxian for me without grief. I think grief played a pivotal role in LWJ’s feelings towards WWX and if he hadn’t experienced true loss, he probably would have been content to be WWX’s best buddy for the rest of his life lol

That being said, I did write something stupid because I thought it seemed like a good idea in my dream:

Wangji isn’t eavesdropping.

He isn’t.

His stupid classmates are just talking loudly. He can’t help but to hear them.

He can’t.

A small crowd of boys are gathered around Wei Ying’s desk - because Wei Ying is bright and fun and popular - and Wangji is sitting alone, revising his notes and definitely not paying attention to their conversation, because he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t.

“I heard Nie Huaisang from class 2A is gay,” one of the boys says. The other boys around him snicker and elbow each other.

“You think that’s true?” one of them asks, he shivers dramatically, “I guess I should steer clear of him.”

The boys all laugh, and Wangji sneaks a peak behind him to see if Wei Ying is laughing as well. He’s relieved to find that he’s not. Wei Ying looks bored, his face in his hands, staring blankly out the window.

Wangji is relieved that Wei Ying isn’t laughing and he doesn’t know why. But he is. Relieved.

“The Nie’s are freaking rich though,” another boy says, “I’d totally do him if he let me drive one of his cars - did you see what he rolled up in today!?”

“Gross,” another boy laughs, “What if he wanted to do you?”

“Ew, no way!”

They all laugh again, and Wangji looks back again to make sure Wei Ying isn’t laughing too. He doesn’t quite understand why it’s so important to him, but he feels unspeakably relieved to see that Wei Ying isn’t laughing along with the others.

Wei Ying stands up suddenly and kicks his chair in. The force knocks the laughing boy off his desk.

“What do you think Wei Wuxian?” one of the boys asks, still snickering.

Wangji isn’t eavesdropping. He’s not, he’s not, he’s not. And he doesn’t care what Wei Ying says. He doesn’t.

“Mm, I think Nie Huaisang is rich and handsome and way more fun than you lot,” Wei Ying says easily, walking towards the door.

“Wait where are you going?” the boys ask.

“To talk to Huisang’s brother!” Wei Ying responds brightly, a huge smile on his face. “I’ll let him know that you guys will apologize to Huaisang, okay? Hopefully he goes easy on you.”

With that he walks out of the classroom, whistling a song that makes the tips of Wangji’s ears go hot.

The boys dumbly stare at each other, still crowded around a now-empty desk.

“Wait who’s Huaisang’s brother?” one of them asks.

“Nie... Nie...”

“Nie Mingjue.”

There’s a split second of silence before they all start running out of the classroom, falling over themselves comically.

“Wei Wuxian!” they yell out desperately, limbs flailing in their rush to catch Wei Ying. “Please - we were just! Please! Wei Wuxian!!”

---

Wangji isn’t waiting for Wei Ying at the gate.

He’s just standing there to admire the view... of the houses across their school. They’re nice houses. It’s nice to admire them.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, throwing an arm across Wangji’s shoulders. “You ignore me all day at school but here you are, waiting for me! I’m getting mixed signals here, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Ying laughs delightedly and his breath is warm against Wangji’s cheek.

“I do not... ignore you,” Wangji says, desperately hoping that Wei Ying thinks that the redness of his ears is from the cold.

“You totally do,” Wei Ying says, “But it’s okay. I’ll forgive you since you wait for me.” He removes his arm from Wangji’s shoulders and Wangji pretends he doesn’t miss the warmth.

They start walking, side by side, and Wangji doesn’t count how many times their arms brush together - he doesn’t.

“Did you really talk to Nie Mingjue?” Wangji asks lightly. Just to make conversation - not because he cares.

“You heard that?” Wei Ying asks. He sighs and shakes his head. “Idiots - all of them. I can’t wait to graduate this stupid school.”

They are idiots, but Wangji isn’t in any hurry to graduate. Wei Ying has big dreams. He’ll probably leave their city after they graduate and only come back for holidays and...

Well, Wangji isn’t in any hurry. He likes walking home with Wei Ying after school. Even if he has to deal with idiots all day.

“I didn’t talk to Mingjue,” Wei Ying continues, “But they did apologize to Huaisang.” He smacks Wangji on his arm and laughs brightly. “You should have seen Huaisang’s face, Lan Zhan! He was so confused!”

Wei Ying’s laugh and bright and beautiful and Wangji gives himself a honest moment to admire it. His fingers tingle strangely and he has this sudden desire to press his thumb against the corner of Wei Ying’s lips and...

“You should be careful,” Wangji says, trying to reign himself back down to reality. “They’re idiots but they can be... cruel.”

Wangji remembers what those idiots had been like before Wei Ying came to their school. Quiet and shy Wen Ning, whose only defender was his ninety pound older sister and whose only sin was that he was poor and timid.

Wangji had known what the boys were doing was wrong - and he had told them. But the school administration had done nothing and it was against the rules to fight, so what could Wangji do?

It was against the rules.

It was against the rules and Wangji had been content with that until Wei Ying had transferred to their school.

Wei Ying, smart and charismatic and more than ready to break every rule. He had been the bane of Wangji’s existence at first. An annoyance Wangji could not understand. The rules were simple. Why was Wei Ying so eager to break them?

Wangji didn’t understand - and if he’s honest, he barely understands now. But Wei Ying had taken one look at Wen Ning, had seen Wen Ning being pushed around only one time, and decided enough was enough.

Wangji can still remember how Wei Ying’s jaw felt in the palm of his hand, as Wangji dabbed medicine on his cheeks and the corner of his lips. Can still remember the way Wei Ying’s fingers felt in his hand as Wangji dabbed ointment on his bloody knuckles.

“You’ll be suspended,” Wangji had said softly, afraid to say what he really felt. Afraid to admit that he was sorry that he didn’t join Wei Ying in his fight.

Wei Ying had smiled at Wangji then, and maybe that was the moment Wangji had...

“Will you miss me, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying had asked mischievously.

And Lan Zhan didn’t answer then, because it was against the rules to lie.

Wei Ying had been suspended, and those idiots had been hospitalized. Wangji had been nervous when they all came back, but maybe it was because those idiots were true idiots, or maybe it was because Wei Ying was handsome and charismatic and undeniable, but after they all came back to school, the idiots began following Wei Ying around like some stupid fan club.

It surprised Wangji how quickly the opinions of those idiots changed, but he was grateful for it then.

Remembering it now makes a strange nervousness creep up in his stomach.

If those idiots can change their mind so quickly... Their current good opinion of Wei Ying might...

“Ehh, what do I care about those idiots. They have fewer brain cells than I have fingers,” Wei Ying says. He knocks his shoulder to Wangji’s. “You worried about me, Lan Zhan?”

Wangji resolutely looks forward and does not answer because lying is against the rules.

Wei Ying snickers and knocks his shoulder against Wangji’s again. “We’re not at school, Lan Zhan, you’re not allowed to ignore me.”

“I do not ignore you,” Wangji answers instead.

“Then eat lunch with me tomorrow. I’m tired of eating with those idiots.”

Lunch? With Wei Ying?

But...

“They... do not like me,” Wangji says stiltedly, feeling awkward and uncool and everything Wei Ying isn’t.

“We don’t have to eat with them! We can eat together - just us. Or maybe with Wen Ning too, if I can find him,” Wei Ying says excitedly.

It really isn’t a good idea and Wangji really should say no. It’s enough that Wei Ying walks with him after school. It’s enough that their houses are close enough together that they can even walk to school together. It’s enough. It’s enough.

Wei Ying’s reputation might... suffer, if he’s known to be close friends with Wangji... who is uppity and a known rule follower and no fun at all to be with...

“I use my lunch time to revise my notes,” Wangji says, and it isn’t a lie. He does revise his notes...

Wei Ying wilts dramatically, puffing his cheeks and pouting his lips like a child. Wangji doesn’t find it at all adorable. He doesn’t.

They’re almost home now and Wangji has to consciously move his feet so that they don’t slow down.

They stop in front of the gate to Wangji’s house, Wei Ying turns to face him.

“Should I open the gate for you, young master?” Wei Ying asks playfully.

“Boring,” Wangji replies. It’s not cute. It’s not.

Wei Ying smiles widely up at him and Wangji has to remind his hands to remain at his side. They’re not allowed to grab Wei Ying’s perfect face and bring it close to Wangji’s. They’re not.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says.

“Tomorrow,” Wangji nods, trying his best not to sound too eager.

“Try to revise all your notes today so you can eat lunch with me tomorrow, okay?”

Wangji turns and opens the gate instead of replying.

“Try, okay!?” Wei Ying yells after him.

Wangji walks up the steps to his door and only then does he allow himself to turn and watch Wei Ying walk away.

Tomorrow.

He doesn’t plan to eat lunch with Wei Ying tomorrow but...

But he does revise all of his notes.

#wangxian #the untamed #tw homophobia #modern au #mdzs

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alchemistbee · 4 years

Text

Back in your Arms

「Five Hargreeves x reader」

Ask: Could you write a Five reader fic where y/n gets kidnapped by the Swedes and Five saves them. Thx

Words: 2556

Warnings: mentions of blood and torture. Kidnapping. Season two spoilers.

A/N: this is the first fic I’ve ever got requested. I hope I did it justice. I hope you enjoy! I know I took long to publish it, I apologize, school is kicking my ass. Sorry for grammatical errors. Enjoy!

[gif from @thisgameissonintendo ]

After having attended the horrific light brunch with the Hargreeves family, they were all feeling far more worse than when they had arrived. Five had explained to Sir Hargreaves each of their powers, Vanya had exploded a bowl of fruits, Allison rumored Diego, Diego got a very non-friendly slap of reality, Klaus seemed to have a seizure mid-dinner and Lurther confronted their father by ripping his shirt off in front of everyone.

In your opinion, it could have gone a lot better, but it could have also gone a lot worse.

Unlike the other siblings, Five had stayed behind and you had figured that it would be better to wait for him in the lobby. He was having a conversation with his father, whom he hadn't seen for over fifty years, he bet his ass you were going to wait for him. Especially after the horrible way he had spoken to the rest, you would be there for Five if he needed to. What you didn't know by then was that Five was trying to see if his father could tell him how to go back to 2019, one that didn't evolve making a deal with The Handler. Which, may I add, he hadn’t told anyone about, not even to you.

You waited patiently for Five, your back leaned against the wall while your arms intertwined in front of your chest. You counted the minutes that passed, not that you were in a hurry, but to hopefully make it seem like the time was passing faster. After almost twenty-seven minutes, the elevator emitted that one ‘bing’ it did whenever the doors were about to slide open. As you expected, it was Five, who now had his hands shoved inside his pockets and seemed quite puzzled. You asked him if he was okay, but Five only dismissed your question to tell you to go ahead of him to Elliott’s place. Apparently, there was something he needed to take care of, something he wasn't willing to explain to you just yet.

He knew that if he did tell you, you would either try to stop him or not let him do it on his own. Five didn’t want to drag you into Commission business. He found that not telling you of the plan all together was the easiest way to keep you from being in Commission's eyes, more than currently at least.

You nodded suspiciously towards Five, but did not push the subject any further. Maybe he just needed some time to let everything sink in, and it's not like you nor him considered the walk back to Morty’s dangerous. You could take care of yourself pretty well. You parted ways with Five, and walked back to Morty’s where you saw Elliott himself was just arriving too. He smiled kindly upon seeing you, to which you returned with a smile of your own. You had to be honest, you had grown to like Elliott more than expected. He was like that one cousin in the family, and you enjoyed hearing his rambles about any conspiracy he could think of. He truly was a sweetheart.

You followed Elliott up the stairs to his place, he carried a paper bag in hand, calmly telling you the things he brought back from the supermarket. You listened thoughtfully. Once inside. Elliott flickered the lights on and to both of your surprise, a cat sat in the middle in the kitchen. Elliott looked confused, but figured the cat must have somehow climbed in “Hey buddy, how did you get up here?”

He approached the kitchen casually, where he sat the bag down and looked at the cat as it meowed to him. You couldn’t help to feel your skin crawl. The nagging feeling of people watching you being present “Elliot?-” You turned your head to look behind you, swearing you had seen something lurking in the shadows. You averted your gaze back to him, now watching as he pulled out a tiny can of food for the cat and asked if it was hungry. You walked to the kitchen window, the one that let you view outside in case anyone was suspiciously close to the building. You saw nothing, but that was because you didn't know that they were already inside.

Your head snapped back to Elliot the moment a loud sound came from the living room, there you saw that one of the tall assassins had punched Elliott right on the side of his face. You felt your heart accelerate, and moved quickly to help him until you felt someone pull you up, stopping your tracks to help the man. The other assassin got a hold of you, if it hadn't been for your small body, you could have stopped the leader from hurting Elliott any further.

You saw the man try to scramble from his gun, but the other man was quicker to lift him up by the throat, asking the whereabouts of Diego. Upon receiving no answer, the man punched Elliott twice, this time letting his body fall harshly on the floor while blood dripped down his nose.

“Elliott!” You struggled under the second man’s hold. You couldn't move, you couldn't fight. The siblings were not even back and there was no way for you to contact them when the phone was this far “We don't know where Diego is! Leave him alone! He has nothing to do with this!” you pleaded loudly. The leader only shifted his gaze at you, studying the way your eyes flushed with fear. He was trying to figure out whether you were the one the woman had referred to not killing, you were merely a teen after all. Yet, not killing you didn't mean they could not use you for information.

After that little stare down happened, making you hope that maybe the men would not use Elliot as their little puppet..You were gravely mistaking. The man dragged Elliott through the living room, knocking over a lamp and breaking it before pinning him into the dentist chair violently. He kept asking for Diego, and Elliott is only able to answer with a “I d-dont know” while you keep battling for the second man to let go of you. At this point, you felt the tears welling in your eyes as you noticed him take the forceps, priding Elliott's mouth open and sticking them into his mouth.

“NO!” you cried out “ELLIOTT!”

Elliott’s screams filled the building alongside your pleas and cries, but as much as you told the men that none of you knew where Diego was, that didn't seem to make them stop. Not until Elliott’s body was drained from life entirely, the blood from his body splattered all across the floor and body. You couldn’t help the soft cries leaving your lips, calling his name out ever so softly in hopes of him still being alive but that’s when you felt a sharp pain come from the back of your head. The world turned black and your body fell not too far from Elliott’s chair after the second man got tired of holding you.

The brothers could use you. They could use you to lure Diego, the man they believed responsible for the murder of their younger brother.

The next day, after Diego and Lurther find Elliott’s body, they try to figure out who did this to Elliott. Diego believes it's the feds, but Lurther claims that was no work of feds but of a psychopath. Believing the words written below are a name, they search through the phone book until discovering the phone number linked to whom they believe is responsible for Elliott’s death; They phone the number up.

Five jumped into the building, quickly noticing the blood painted words on the floor, making him hurry up the stairs to meet Elliot’s body. He can feel a lump forming in his throat as he approaches it. There were clear signs of torture, there was something stuck into his left eye. Five couldn’t help to feel guilty. He liked Elliot, he was a good man, he had helped them and welcomed his siblings in without the slightest complaint. He had become one of them, and for that, his life paid the price.

Five followed the voices of Lurther and Diego through the kitchen, taking off his blue and blood dripped jacked as he heard the brothers threaten someone over the phone for killing one of them “Hey! It's Öga för Öga, idiots. Swedish for ‘an for en eye’. It means The swedes killed Elliott '' He didn't want to think how the missions went after his run; It was clear Diego and Lurther shared one brain cell.

“Wrong number, have a lovely day” Diego hanged the call, looking at Five and easily spotting the blood on his clothes “Uh, you got some blood on your clothes”

“A lot actually”, Diego added as Five pushed by them, entered the bathroom and turned the sink handle to let the water flow down. He grabbed a white towel, carefully washing the blood off of him as best as he could “I found a way home”

“What? How?”

“All the details are irrelevant but i made a deal to get back to our timeline”

“What about doomsday? And the 2019 apocalypse”

“won't happen. Everything will be back to normal” Five remarked exasperated “All right? No more questions. We gotta go. We have to find the other and get back in 77 minutes. Luther, you get Allison, Diego go get Klaus, I'll get Vanya, Y/N-“ he stopped his pacing all suddenly, eyes roaming the room and back to his younger siblings “Wait—Where’s Y/N?”

Five’s eyes widened as realization suddenly hit him and his siblings. He saw you last night, you were supposed to be here, why weren’t you here?

“They stayed after the brunch, we thought they were with you…” Diego, Five and Lurther shared a look, all of them now realizing that you had been taken by the men who killed Elliott.

“Dammit!” Five exclaimed angrily. He had just gotten a way back home, and you...You had been taken. How was he supposed to find you in such little time? He didn’t even know where to start.

“Calm down. Okay—We’ll find them—“ Diego started while Five started to pace around, muttering words under his breath “This was so simple. So simple!” He turned his head to look at them “I am going to go find Y/N, and get Vanya. We meet here as planned, this is our only chance to go back” Five raised his finger at them both before started to walk to the stairs, but stopped abruptly when he Diego spoke up once more

“You expect us to not help you—“ before Diego could finish his sentence, Five jumped from the small distance to right in front of his brother, raising his fingers with a threatening look “If you don’t do this, I swear I’ll kill you myself” he said more sternly “there's not enough time for all of us to go in a search, I’ll tell Vanya to meet up here. If i don't make it in time just go back home, I’ll manage a way back”

“How are you planning on finding them?” Was what Diego last said before Five teleported out of the building.

You woke up with a sharp breath. Your head was pounding and when you opened your eyes, you were welcomed with nothing but a blindfold on your eyes. You tried moving your arms. But soon found out they were tied down to your back while your ankles were tied against the legs of a chair “Shit” you muttered hoarsely, your throat was still dry from the crying. What the hell happened? Where were you?—

That’s when it hit you

“HELP! SOMEONE!” You tried to scream as loudly as you could, but considering the silence in wherever you were, you knew no one was coming to your aid. Strangely, the smell was like cat fur, and that was confirmed when you heard the several meows and the cat passing it’s tail over your leg.

How in the world were you going to get out of here now?

Five jumped all over town trying to find any clues, even the smallest, of your whereabouts. Even though he didn’t show it, he was extremely anxious and worried for your self being. He feared what the Swedes could be doing to you, or worst, what they had already done. The images of Elliott kept flashing back to him, and something in his stomach made him believe that if he didn’t hurry up, he would find you the same way.

He didn’t know whether it was luck or simple fate, but as he walked through the town he spotted the familiar milk truck that had followed them around for some instances. It was parked in front of an apartment, a quite small one, and Five knew that you should have been there. He kept looking down at his watch, counting the minutes they had left before having to go back to 2019.

They still had twenty minutes. He still had time, it was enough to save you and go back. At least he hoped so.

He watched The Swedes get in the truck, and without thinking it twice, teleported himself inside the cat filled apartment. His blue eyes roamed the place all over, scanning it for any trace of you until he heard a few knocks coming from a nearby closet. He didn’t waste time on pulling the door open.

Five’s eyes fell on you, and instinctively, you started to try and kick thinking that The Swedes were back again “Y/N!-Its me!-Y/N” he crouched down to your level, scanning your body for any signs of torture or harm. He sighed sharply, relieved to see that The Swedes hasn’t gotten their way with you. Gently, he reached out to pull your blindfold off. It broke him to see you like this.

Your eyes weren’t shining like they used to. They were completely flushed by pain, regret and fear “F-Five” you muttered softly, finding it hard to believe he had actually found you. You felt the ropes become loose on your legs and wrists, and the moment you had the chance, your body fell against Five’s. He held you firmly, worried that maybe you weren’t as okay as he thought you were. He was only relieved to have you back on his arms again, the place where he could make sure of your safety.

“F-Five—Elliott—I couldn’t s-save him” You started, tears stinging your eyes as you remembered what The Swedes did to the man “I c-couldn’t—“your shoulders shook alongside your small sobs.

“I know...It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have left you” Five said softly, his arms slowly wrapping around you, hoping that would comfort you in the slightest “We have to go...I found a way back, but we need to go now or we’ll be stuck here forever” He pulled you up the ground, his thump caressing your tear stained cheeks while his free hand took a gentle hold of yours.

“You w-what? How?” You blinked twice, sniffing softly “Five, what did you do?”

“I’ll explain on the way...Let’s go home”

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