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sundaysundaes · 3 years

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Our First Time

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 4.6k | College AU

Summary: Considering your boyfriend never dares to take the initiative to go further than your usual make-out sessions, you have to do the part to actually be in charge of the relationship.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, Mark Lee losing his virginity while being extremely awkward and utterly cute about it, oral sex, fingering, failed fluff (idk man this is just basically me being a thirsty hoe over morkly)

“Remember the suit you wore when we went to your aunt’s wedding?”

Your boyfriend, who has been together with you for almost a year by now, hums in response, not really giving you any glance as he’s busy tapping his pen to his lips, thinking about writing the next lyric for the song he’s composing. Mark Lee has his chest pressed against his acoustic guitar, his hair’s a bit messy and slightly parted to the side, showing his forehead. Considering how close he’s sitting on the floor next to you, you can tell how half of the collar of his washed-out denim jacket stands up, brushing against the end of his dark hair.

“Yeah, what about it?” He continues asking when he notices that you’re waiting for a proper answer. He slips his guitar pick back between his fingers and tries a few chords to match his lyrics.

“I just dreamt about you fucking me from behind while wearing that suit.”

Mark strums his guitar too hard out of shock, making his instrument flies away from his lap, hitting the marbled floor with a sudden loud noise.

“What?”

Still having your head pressed against the table with your right cheek glued to your abandoned college papers, you flatly repeat, “I dreamt about you fucking—”

Mark stands up so fast, you can tell he’s having a slight headache because of it. “No. No. I heard what you said, I just—” It’s a fact that Mark blushes rather easily, but he has never blushed this hard before. “What—why—telling me so suddenly like this—you’re—”

“Mark, you’re rambling.”

“Why are you so calm about it?!” He walks away to pick up his guitar, unconsciously stomping a little bit like a fuming child as he does so. “And why are you lazing around like that? Didn’t you have some assignments to do?”

You finally straighten yourself up, looking at the textbooks you need to read and suddenly feeling like you’re dyslexic from birth. “I dozed off a bit, I guess. I just woke up from that dream where—”

“OKAAAAYYYYY!” Mark scrambles back to your side, crossing his legs and shushing you down by covering your head with your hood until you can barely see anything. The grey hoodie you’re wearing—his hoodie, actually—is already oversized when Mark is wearing it, so it’s basically a dress when you’re wearing it and the hood is big enough to cover your entire head.

You pull your hood away, your hair looking like a mess and by then Mark still has his cheeks rosy from your words and you wonder, whether it really was too much to talk about with your boyfriend?

You have never been the one who gets easily embarrassed about sexual stuff—or about anything really, because you’re a pretty blunt person. It’s his job to get embarrassed about things—even the ones that came out from his own mouth. Mark can be so confident and so awkward at the same time that it doesn’t make sense but you find him to be cute that way.

“Mark.”

“If you’re going to talk about that dream again, I am going to yank my hair out of my head.”

“But—“

“And I’m going to yank your hair out of your head.”

“But then we’re both be bald.”

“That will be your fault.”

You huff, unconsciously pouting, before you finally let go and head back to your papers. You try to hold your concentration longer than a few minutes, but when you hear Mark going back to his guitar, humming a few notes here and there, you just give up because there’s no way you’re going to finish your thesis when your boyfriend is singing so angelically like that.

“New song?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Thanks. It still feels a bit weird on some parts though, but—” Mark stops talking when you walk on all fours toward him, pushing the guitar out of his hands and crawl onto his lap. “Babe?”

You sink your face against the crook of his neck, hands going down and circle their way around his back. “Ssshh,” you say, exhaling all of his scents and thanking whoever it is that invented his perfume because goddamn, Mark smells like cinnamon and chocolate and everything that is good in this world. “I’m out of battery. I need to re-charge.”

Mark spends two seconds in silence before he blurts out laughing, “What are you even saying?” He protests but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he rests his chin on your shoulder and cuddles you closer into his chest.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, almost lazily as if he’s a few seconds away from sleeping. You answer by placing a peck on his neck which makes him jolt a little in surprise but not breaking away. The silence between you two is comforting but the way Mark’s jeans are pressing against your bare thighs is not so you move around, trying to find the most perfect comfort zone on his lap—not knowing that it is becoming a new kind of torture for your boyfriend. It’s until you feel something growing underneath you that you begin to halt your movements.

“Mark—”

“I know, don’t say it—”

“You’re kinda… hard.”

“I said, don’t—” He lets out a whine, slamming his temple against your shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry, but you keep moving your butt and it feels like you’re not wearing any pants—“

“I am not wearing any pants.”

“Fuck.” Mark is not the kind of man who curses a lot—he only does it when he’s surprised or when he panics as he tries to process what he’s saying next, so the fact that he’s cursing now can mean he’s feeling one of those things or both or for a whole other reason.

“I mean,” you try to explain, “I’m not trying to seduce you or anything. It’s just your hoodie is way too big for me so I thought why bother? It’s not like we’re going somewhere. We’re just hanging out in my bedroom after all.”

“Oh my God,” Mark groans, throwing his head back as he leans against your bed. “Just give me some time to calm down.”

He really looks like he’s trying to will his boner to go away, what with the way he furrows his eyebrows and keeps his eyes tightly closed in concentration. Mark is too much of a gentleman to ask for your help but you’re willing so it’s more like he’s giving one by providing the chance for you to ravage him.

Just gotta play it cool, though.

And by cool, you mean pressing your palm against his groin when he’s not expecting.

“Yo, what!” He jumps like a scared little cat and honestly, he’s too cute—so utterly cute—that you begin to lean up and kiss him square on the lips. “Mmph!” His protest is muffled by your mouth and the way you entangle your fingers around the back of his hair, pulling him close. He stiffens for a few seconds before he finally lets go, melting into the kiss and you know the next one is going to be your favourite part.

See, the thing with Mark is, he acts shy and awkward most of the time but when the moment is right, he can be passionate about things. Like when he’s playing music. Or writing his raps during his free time.

Or kissing you.

“Mark—“ It’s funny that you initiated this, but it’s you who’s losing your breath. Mark takes your hand when you’re about to fall off his lap, pulling you with enough force to make you tumble back to his chest, and slips his tongue inside your mouth as you gasp. His kisses are deep and fast, almost like he’s in a hurry to kiss you before you disappear from his life forever. You never peg yourself to act like a thirteen-year-old virgin—because you’re certainly not—but when Mark kisses you like this, you feel like you’re acting worse than that.

You can feel one of his hands on your thigh, holding you tight to the point it feels like it’s going to bruise. You push his denim jacket off his shoulders when he kisses your neck, lips hovering hot against your sensitive spot, making you say his name in the tone you’ve never made before.

“You,” Mark whispers between kisses, “have got,” another kiss, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip, “to stop teasing me like this.” Another slip of his tongue, meeting yours for a split second before he breaks off the kiss. “Or else, I’ll go crazy. I am going crazy because of you.”

“Then why are you stopping?” You ask, breathing a little bit heavier. You cup one of his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him again but he pulls away, hesitating. “Mark?”

“I don’t think we should go any further.”

“You don’t?” You grind your hips against him again and his lips part slightly, trying his best to contain his moan. “Even though you’re this excited?”

“That—” He hisses, gripping hips with both hands to keep you still. “Stop it, you’re not being fair.”

“I’m being honest,” you correct him. “What’s wrong? What’s stopping you? What did I do wrong?”

You can tell he feels sorry for making you feel like this and he’s really contemplating whether he should tell you the real reason or not, so you squeeze his hand and smile at him. “Let me know, please?”

He licks his bottom lip nervously before he sighs. “It’s dumb but…” He looks away, trying to hide his face but you see how the tips of his ears are turning scarlet. “You’re Haechan’s ex and I know he can be a little bit, umm… wild.”

It takes a few seconds for you to process. “So you’re afraid that you’re going to be worse than him in bed?”

“No, I mean—“ He seems frustrated and ashamed, like a child being caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “Okay, yes, I guess you’re right. I am. But it’s more than that.”

The way he fidgets and rambles is just so cute—everything about him is cute—but you never say that out loud because he hates being called cute. He always says you’re cuter than him. “Mark, I don’t care about what happened with me and Haechan. I’m dating you now, aren’t I? You’re being jealous over nothing.”

The way he pouts indicates that he doesn’t particularly agree with your words, but he lets it go. “Well, there’s also one other thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know,” he shrugs, hiding his doe eyes behind his bangs. “That thing.”

“What? What is it? What thing?” Then you open your mouth in realisation. “Oh Mark, baby, I don’t care if you have a small dick. Size doesn’t matter.”

“What—NO!” He shrieks, face in flame. “I mean, not that I regularly measure it and compare it to other guys—I have never even seen another guy’s dick—not that I want to—”

“Mark, you’re rambling again.”

“I DON’T HAVE A SMALL DICK!” He exclaims and you hold back a laugh when he adds in a murmur, “At least I don’t think I have.”

“Okay, my bad.” You massage his shoulders, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Then what is it?”

Another silence, then. “I’ve never done this before.”

“What, sex?”

He weakly nods, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip worriedly, and you feel something warm growing inside your chest. The fact that he’s never been with anyone suddenly becomes the highlight of your life, and if you can be his first then you can just die from happiness by the end of the day.

But it’s because of this very reason, that you have to become very careful.

“Okay, then, let’s just take it slow?” You offer and he seems conflicted about his own expression. Part of him looks relieved but the other part of him looks disappointed.

“Why do I feel like we have our roles in reverse?” He asks, somewhat annoyedly, as you settle yourself better in his lap. You let out a small chuckle in response. “Also, your brother is downstairs.”

“He has his AirPods on.”

“How do you know he has his AirPods on?”

“Johnny always has his AirPods on.”

“But—”

“Mark,” you whisper, closing your eyes as the tip of your nose touching his, “Don’t you want me?”

He lets out a shaky breath, having a hard time trying not to stare at your lips that are becoming even more irresistible by the second. “You don’t even know how much I want you.”

“Then just let go. Just give in, Mark.” You press your temple against his and within this close proximity, his scent is intoxicatingly amazing.

“Okay,” he finally whispers back, but since he still sounds somewhat unsure, you add, “Look, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Just stop me whenever it gets too uncomfortable for you, okay?”

“Okay now we seriously have our roles in reverse. Should I be handing my dick to you now? I think you’ll make better use of it.”

“That sounds like a great idea only if it’s possib—” The rest of your words is replaced with a yelp when Mark suddenly pushes you down onto your back, your head hitting the floor too hard and now he’s yelping.

“Oh, shit—fuck!” He scrambles with his words and with his hands, trying to help you get up and check on your condition at the same time. “I’m so sorry! I was trying to be sexy and be in control or something like that—shit, it just looks way better in my head—I—Why are you laughing?!“

You can’t help it. This is all too ridiculous. Almost refreshing for you, even. You never compared Mark with your ex-boyfriend Haechan before because Mark is way, way better than he’s ever going to be but you remember that with Haechan, things were wild. So wild, that you constantly got caught off guard, not having enough time to focus on your feelings or your own pleasure and just fulfilling his, and his only. With Mark, you feel like you have so much more to give. So much more new experience. So much laughter. So much fun.

“Oh my God, Mark,” you cackle, wiping away some tears from your eyes, “I love you, but if you don’t stop acting so cute, I am going to ravish you myself.”

“What?”

You blink in realisation. “Sorry, that was too much.”

“No, not that.” He knits his eyebrows together. “You love me?”

You feel your heart drops to your stomach. You can’t believe you just said that. It’s not like you didn’t mean it—of course, you mean it. But you’ve tried your best to wait so you can hear him say it first. You are a woman, after all. And to think that you just said it randomly at times like this? After your boyfriend knocked your head against the floor for trying to be sexy? Not really the way you imagined it to be, that’s for sure.

“Umm,” you fondle the hem of your—his—hoodie. Great, now you’re nervous. Suddenly, those papers you have scattered on your table don’t look so bad. “You’re right, I do have some assignments to do. I’ll just get back to—“

Mark grabs your hand, holding you right on your spot. “You love me?”

You can practically hear your own heartbeat in your ears and it’s really fast. “My thesis—”

“Babe, I need to hear you say it.” The way his doe eyes are holding yours seems unfamiliar. His gaze is firm, unfaltering, and you give in because what else can you do? It’s really how you feel after all.

“I love you, Mark.” You can hear the shyness in your own voice and you curse inwardly because where did your confidence go? You were acting so superior before!

Mark doesn’t say a word and when you feel like dying is a better option than standing awkwardly in front of your attractive boyfriend after your stupid unplanned confession, he suddenly lifts your entire body with both hands and lays you down on the bed.

“Mark—“

He kisses you like he needs it to keep himself alive, and you find yourself closing your eyes shut, moulding your lips against his until you can taste the mint flavour from the candy he ate earlier. He tangles his fingers around your locks, the other hand cupping your cheek to angle your face better so he can kiss you deeper. You can’t help but to arch yourself closer to him, chest meeting chest, hips against hips. You can no longer tell whether the moans come from you or him but everything feels hot and going so fast, like you’re free-falling from a skyscraper.

Perhaps he feels the same way because he gradually slows his pace until he finally parts his lips from you. One look at your disheveled face and messy lipstick smeared from your mouth to your cheek, and he goes back to staring at your lips again with want. He mutters, “Fuck” under his breath, almost inaudibly before he crashes his lips against yours, but slower this time, just carefully savouring every taste and breathing in every scent of you.

Mark pulls away only to grab the hem of his white Van Halen shirt, pulling it over his head and tosses it somewhere without care and you have to remind yourself to breathe because fuck me, that was hot. His hair’s a mess—even messier than before and you think that’s just as hot as he can get but then he pushes his hair back with his hand, forehead showing as it glistens with sweat, and says, “I’m not going to hold back anymore.”

Again, fuck me, that was hot.

Mark seems brave enough to finally just let go and consume you in the way he has been wanting to for a while, but you can tell he’s also nervous from the way he fumbles every now and then, especially when he tries to unhook your bra without looking. He has no problem tossing your—his—hoodie away, but when he keeps his eyes closed as he kisses you, it takes a good minute for him to finally unclasp your bra.

He’s momentarily in awe when your naked breasts come into view but he wastes no more time trying to please you with both his hands and his mouth.

It’s good. He’s good. If he’s this good his first time, you can’t wait to see what happens next. You’re too busy losing yourself in his touch until you feel his length pressing against your thigh. By instinct, you press it harder against his groin, eliciting a surprised moan from him.

Goddamn, why is he so hot?

That voice of his; you want to hear it more and more, so you bring his mouth back to yours, align your hips with his and unzip his jeans. Mark is swearing again, but the more he swears, the breathier he sounds and when you rub him over his underwear, his moans are delicious.

“Feels good?” You ask and he kinds of scowl at you because what do you think?

Surprisingly enough, he pushes your hand away from his crotch and when you raise an eyebrow asking why, he kisses your body lower and lower until his face is hovering above your panties.

“Mark,” you call out, “Don’t try to be sexy and pull my underwear down with your teeth or something. You haven’t reached that level yet.”

He responds by tickling you hard on the sides of your stomach and you almost kick him in the face from laughing beyond control.

After all joking has receded, Mark swallows his breath nervously and kisses you on the inside part of your thigh, slowly creeping down to your heat, mouthing against it from over the fabric.

“Want me to take it off?” He asks in the cockiest way you’ve ever seen him do and you wonder who’s the virgin one in this relationship.

“Depends. Do you want to have blue balls for the rest of your life?”

“I’m kidding, geez,” he says, chuckling a bit but it sounds more nervous and he probably is nervous since he’s never done anything like this before.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” you assure him and he looks like he wants to retort with something clever and snarky but he also kind of needs your guidance so he keeps quiet and just pulls your underwear down and tosses it away.

Mark knows how to use his tongue, he just doesn’t know where he should use his tongue. That’s when your guidance comes handy, you suppose.

“A little bit lower, Mark.”

“Here?”

“Lower.”

“Umm… here?”

“Whoa, too low!” You spring up from the bed, pressing your thighs together so he won’t lick anywhere weird. “Okay, Mark, there’s my vagina and there’s my ass. Some girls like to have their asses eaten, but not me.”

“Right,” he says awkwardly, cheeks burning bright. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Umm…” It’s so awkward and you both kind of just sit on the bed not knowing what to do so you ask, a bit unconvincingly, “Try again?”

To your surprise, Mark nods rather excitedly, like a child eager to learn and that’s cute and all but in this context? Not so much.

But wow, Mark learns fast.

It’s been more than a year since someone has touched you like this and it feels like it’s your first time again, so you’re quickly reduced to a whimpering mess when Mark kisses and flicks his tongue against your private part. And when he sucks at a particular spot, you’re practically screaming his name.

“S-sorry, did I hurt you?” He asks, pulling away, eyes shaking in concern.

“God, no.” You’re this close to shoving his face back to your crotch. “Don’t stop, Mark, please.”

“But if you’re in pain—“

“Mark,” you can practically feel your patience throwing itself out of the window. “If I’m in pain, I will kick you in the face or tell you to stop, so if I don’t do any of that, don’t fucking stop.”

You know you sound a bit desperate. Or a lot. But is there any girl out there who’s not going to sound this desperate when Mark Lee is using his mouth to utter nonsense when he just did a perfectly good job over there?

Lucky for you, Mark actually listens and doesn’t stop going even if you’re mewling his name, to the point of almost sobbing even, and continues to please you until your thighs begin to tremble in delight and you fall back to the bed with the biggest content sigh you’ve ever made in your entire life.

“How was it?” He asks with a little bit of teasing in his tone because he can see how good it was. You can tell he wants to hear you praise him.

“You, Mark Lee,” you breathe out, looking at him with stars in your eyes. “Are the most talented person in the world and I’m not just talking about your talent in music, but in everything.”

He chuckles. “That good?”

You pull him down by his belt, until his chest pressing against yours again. “That good,” you agree before you crash your mouth against his in the most consuming way you’ve ever kissed someone.

Mark eventually has his pants off and you switch positions when he’s finally stark naked. He’s so shy about the whole thing that he barely keeps eye contact with you, and he stutters hard, asking where the condom is when you begin to position yourself on top of him. You shake your head, telling him that you don’t have one and add, “Just tell me when you’re about to come so you can pull out just in time.”

Mark opens and closes his mouth like a fish gasping for air, probably about to protest but can’t come up with any better solution. Besides, he basically just throws everything out of the door when you sit down on his lap, your walls stretching against his length in one swift motion and he throws his head back.

“Fuck!” He breathes heavily, looking at you specifically at the part where you both are connected. “You’re wet—how are you so wet—and warm—oh my God—I’m—“

“You’re rambling again.” It’s the third time you said that to him in the last hour, which must have been some kind of a record. Not important right now, though. You’re focusing yourself to adapt to his length—because he’s nowhere small, it turns out—and slide up and down when it stings less.

“Okay, shit, wait—“ Mark sinks his nails on the sides of your hips, making you wince a little and he pulls back, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I feel like I’m going crazy. Can we stop?”

“Too much?”

“Too much.”

You tease him by clenching your walls around him and he just groans loudly in the sexiest way you’ve ever heard a man groan. “Babe, please,” he begs, eyes half-lidded in lust. “You’re not being fair. It’s my first time.”

“So?” You can’t help it. You’re having so much fun. You rock your hips against him again and he just loses it. Mark grabs you by the waist, bringing you back down to the bed and muffle your laughter with his mouth.

“Since you can’t stop teasing me about it,” Mark says, spreading your legs apart by instinct and seeing him between your thighs is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed. “I’ll take control from here.”

Mark moves rather awkwardly, and sloppily from time to time but he is hitting the right spot. He’s too enthusiastic though, which doesn’t make him last long. He comes undone soon after, dripping liquid onto your stomach before your own orgasm can hit you but he doesn’t spend his time lying beside you on the bed. Instead, he quickly inserts one finger into you, then two, pumping in and out as he analyses your expression—making sure that he’s doing right and not hurting you in the process. You clutch your fingers around his bicep, urging him to go faster with your mouth parting halfway in pleasure and he smiles proudly at the sight. Smirking, he brings his mouth back to suck on whatever that is that makes you feel like the world is ending and you don’t fucking care because of Mark, oh yes, Mark!

When you’re done, he pulls his fingers out and licks the tips. He’s probably not trying to be sexy but more out of curiosity or just trying to imitate some dudes in those porn videos he watches from time to time, but goddamn, please do that again.

“Sorry for making such a mess,” he says, pushing the bangs out of your eyes, “I’ll go grab some tissues to clean you up—”

You bring him down to kiss him, senselessly, longingly, and languidly. Just enjoying the moment as you come down from your high. “You know,” you say, “I don’t know if I’m a good teacher, or you’re just one hell of a student, but that was amazing.”

Mark blushes but he grins like a child. “Am I better than Haechan?”

“I hate you for bringing him up because he no longer exists in my life but I bet my ass he’s never going to be as good as you. Our first time is ten times better than my last time with him.”

“You’re being honest?”

“Ten thousand percent.”

Mark plops down on the bed next to you, punching the air in a winning pose. “Hell yes!”

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Let’s take a shower together. You see, practice makes perfect.”

As he’s busy trying to wash the blush away from his face, there’s a loud knocking sound coming from the other side of your door.

“Have you two bunnies done fucking each other’s brains out yet? I need to take my AirPods you borrowed.”

Mark stares at you in horror when you finally remember that you, indeed, borrowed Johnny’s AirPods this morning.

You begin to sweat. “Oops?”

***

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rebelwrites · 3 years

Text

Over Him

Angel Reyes x Reader

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This Months Writing

Requested by @chibsytelford “Billions of people in the world, and i chose you, how stupid was that” with Angel pls. Hurt me

“It’s good to see you smiling again,” Bishop said softly pulling you into a tight hug, “It is also good to see you back around the club house, it hasn’t been the same without you here.

“I just needed time,” You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder. Bishop was a father figure to you, so when he found out Angel had cheated on you during a run, he fully flipped. You had never seen him so angry, and when he body slammed Angel into the floor it took you by surprise. “But I am over him now, he never deserved me anyway, I was far too good for him.”

“That you were, no one will be good for you in my eyes princesa.” Bishop whispered, kissing the top of your head.

It was like he knew you were talking about him, as in that moment he came bounding into the clubhouse, with his new girl hanging off his arms. You couldn’t help but watch as they sat down and he started making his way towards you.

“You okay?” Bishop asked.

“Yeah, I am good.” You nodded, grabbing the beer that Chucky had placed on the bar in front of you. “I can’t come to the clubhouse and not expect to bump into him.”

“Y/N, can we speak please?” Angel asked, sitting on the barstool next to you.

“I have nothing to say to you Angel,” You shrugged, pausing to take a long pull of the beer, nailing half of the bottle in one gulp. “Actually I do have a few things I need to say to you, I need to get them off my chest.”

“Okay,” He nodded, “I am listening.”

“Out of the billions of people in the world, and i chose you, how stupid was that?” You scoffed, looking at him, “But you look happy.”

“I am,” He nodded, “Look I am sorry, I wasn’t the best guy back when we were together and I can only apologise.”

“I hope you hear a song, that makes you sing along and gets you thinking 'bout her, then the last several miles turns into a blur, yeah” You nodded, staring right into his eyes, “I hope you both feel the sparks by the end of the drive, I hope you know she's the one by the end of the night. I hope you never ever felt more free, tell your friends that you're so happy. I hope she comes along and wrecks every one of your plans, I hope you spend your last dime to put a rock on her hand, I hope she's wilder than your wildest dreams. She's everything you're ever gonna need”

“Wow, I didn’t expect this,” Angel breathed.

“I ain't finished yet,” You shrugged, taking another sip of your beer. “I hope she shows up in a 2AM pic from her friend, hanging on to a guy, and you just ain't him. I hope you stay up all night all alone waiting by the phone, and then she calls. And I hope you work it out, forgive and just about forget, and then I hope she cheats, like you did on me.”

“Excuse me?” Angel scoffed.

“You heard me,” You shrugged, “I hope you end up feeling just like I did six months ago, cast aside with no second thought, I hope your heart shatters into a million pieces. Now can I drink in peace, I have had a long week and just want to have a quiet drink with Bishop.”

“You’ve changed,” Angel snapped.

“And I wonder why that is aye?” You sneered, “No move before I punch you because you are now getting on my last goddamn nerve.”

He said nothing more but sulked off over to the table in the corner of the room.

“About time that someone put him in his place.” Bishop laughed, nudging your shoulder. “Now how about we take some beers and we can work on those punches of yours as we haven’t been in the ring for months.”

“You trying to say my punches are weak?” You gasped.

“Yeah I am now get that ass moving and into the ring.” Bishop winked, punching you softly.

@chibsytelford @everyhowlmarksthedead @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @mrsmarvelous1995 @talicat713 @withmyteeth @pancakeisreading

#Angel Reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #mayans #mayans x reader #mayans imagine

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rk1kheadcanons · 3 years

Note

Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is

You would never know Markus was drunk.

He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.

What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.

Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.

Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.

And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.

It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.

“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”

The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”

Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”

“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”

“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.

“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”

North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”

“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.

“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”

“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”

“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”

“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.

North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”

Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.

“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”

“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”

“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”

North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”

Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”

‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances

“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”

“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”

“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”

“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”

“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.

Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.

If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.

“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”

“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.

“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.

“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”

“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.

“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”

North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”

So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”

“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”

Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”

Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”

“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”

Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.

“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”

“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.

“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.

“It’s Sixty.”

Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”

“Why are you booing me I’m right!”

“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.

Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.

“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.

Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.

“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”

“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”

“He fits the criteria.”

“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”

“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”

As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.

And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.

‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’

Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”

Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.

Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.

#Detroit Become Human #Markus #Connor #Markus x Connor #RK1K #emiliaf25🌻#emiliaf25 ask reply #North #Simon #Josh #RK900 #Markus: I bet 200 on Connor!#Simon: Pssh no way #Josh: Markus please don't waste you're money on throw away bets #North: Why don't you just bet on John Cena while you're at it #Nines: If Markus wants to give away money then let him #Connor: >:C #Connor: why do I hang out with you people...

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sunaswife · 3 years

Text

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

note from denise: TAGLIST CLOSED

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter seven

“Alrighty give mommy kissy.” You squatted down. Both of your kids tackled you in a hug and they kissed your cheeks. You kissed them back and pulled away. You watched as they walked to the bus.

Even though they’re homeschool, they offered a program where your kids can still go to class in person once a week so they can socialize and it won’t affect their mental health. After talking to another mother who put her kids in the same program, she recommended it and you decided that it was best.

Your kids already socialized in their volleyball practice but it wouldn’t hurt for them to talk more with other kids.

You saw as Rini helped his sister up the bus first and blocked the back of her skirt from showing her shorts underneath and you lowkey wanted to cry because he was such a gentleman. He then got in and they sat together on the right side of the bus and they waved you goodbye. You waved back and the bus began to leave.

You sighed and turned back home. You washed this morning’s dirty dishes and cleaned a bit around. After you were satisfied with the presentation of your house, you made your way to your small studio office and began answering more emails and writing topics for the new podcast episode you and Jamie had to record.

You took another sip of your barley warm tea and finally you heard the doorbell ring. You glanced at the time on your watch and realized it wasn’t 12 yet, it was probably Jamie.

You carried your laptop and placed it on the dining table and ran to the door. “I’m coming!” You yelled as Jamie rang the bell again. You opened the door revealing your two best friends and you were shocked to see Hana. She’s your best friend from highschool, the one who blocked the boy’s numbers and let you spend the night when you got kicked out.

She was also the one who was rooting for you and Suna but she was more than furious when she found out what happened. You called her on New Years and started balling your eyes out.

You told her to never date boys cause they sucked but little did you know she had a big crush on you. You were her first love.

I guess you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. So when Rin started to take your attention, she felt jealousy and loneliness but your happiness mattered more than her selfishness.

She became a fashion major in University but dropped out because she didn’t like what they were teaching. With the bit she learned and already knew, she turned into art. She made beautiful leather pieces of lingerie with straps and belts and lace and the models needed dramatic makeup and hair. And you happened to know an amazing makeup artist.

That’s where Jamie came in.

And eventually they fell in love.

Hana is always busy with her lingerie company since everything is hand crafted and not made in a factory like Jamie’s makeup products. So that’s why it was a shock to see her here during the day at least. “Come in come in. Mi casa es su casa.” You said in broken Spanish and they laughed.

Jamie sat on the dining table and sighed. She rubbed her baby bump and you asked if she wanted something to drink. You got her water as well as some wine for Hana. “So they’re really coming over?” Hana asked as she opened Jamie’s laptop and set it up for her wife.

“Yeah I hope so. If they flake I’m not gonna give him another chance. I already told the kids he’ll be here and they’re excited.” You said and she nodded. “Good.” Hana replied. You and Jamie began reading eachothers notes and topics regarding the podcast. “I think Hana is gonna have to take my place on the podcast if I pop.” Jamie mentioned randomly.

“Hell no.” Hana immediately said. “That’s a you two thing I’m not getting into it.” Hana said sternly. “But Hana, since Jamie got pregnant. You didn’t have a face for your spicy lingerie line. So I temporarily replaced her. Surely you could do the same!” You exclaimed and she rolled her eyes. “Speaking of lingerie I have something I want you to try for the next photoshoot. I’ll go get it after my smoke.” She said and you rolled your eyes with a nod.

“It’s pretty hot, like a harness thing on your wrist that connects to your thighs.” Jamie spoke up as Hana left. “Where does Hana come up with these things?” You asked and Jamie made a smirky face. “Nevermind I don’t wanna hear about your guy’s sex life.” You shuttered and she snickered.

Hana got out your front door, walked to her fancy Mercedes and took out the gift wrapped box as well as her favorite pack of smokes. She sat on the small bench in the front of your house and she lit the lighter, breathing in the nicotine. She sighed and wondered if you’re going to be okay with your ex seeing his kids.

If it was her she would refuse to let him see them and take it to court. But you weren’t like that. You always had hope and patience that you’d meet Suna again someway somehow.

She heard a car door slam and looked up to see the three tall figures get out of a car. She exhaled the smoke and they looked up to see her. “It’s been a long time, huh?” She tilted her head to the side and Suna scratched the back of his neck as he neared. “Hana I—I’m sorry for everything.” He said. “I trusted you with my best friend and you hurt her. I don’t think I could ever forgive you for hurting my first love like that.” She spoke bitterly and put out the cigarette in the small froggy bowl turned ashtray that the twins made.

“First love?” Osamu asked and Hana stayed quiet and motioned for them to follow her. Suna didn’t know what to say, after you left Hyogo Suna began bugging her for answers and she went off on him once and that’s when he realized that Hana was gay and in love with you the whole time.

Immediately when the door opened they heard yelling and singing. Obviously confused the boys looked at eachother but Hana seemed unfazed, she’s used to her wife’s chaotic nature and even though you’re pretty quiet and collected you make a complete 360 with Jamie around. You were both like Yin and Yang.

“Shh she’s been trying to get this song down for weeks.” Hana whispered as the boys followed through the small hall. They looked at the photos that adorned the wall and they saw baby photos of Suna’s kids and they truly looked like him. From the corner of his eye, Suna saw a photo of you with Shawn Mendes and smiled that you finally had a chance to meet your celebrity crush.

Suna nor the twins didn’t know what to expect when they saw you again. But they were shocked to see you in your true nature with studio headphones over your ears as you sang each note higher and higher. Jamie was yelling and slamming the table with her palm encouraging you to keep on going. Jamie used to do that in parties, drinking games were her favorite.

You finally finished the song and you took off your headphones and started screaming. “SIX WEEKS IT TOOK ME SIX FUCKING WEEKS TO COPY IT TO A T! I DID IT OH MY GOD!” You yelled and Jamie yelled again too. “BITCH I TOLD YOU YOU COULD DO IT BUT YOU-“

“SELF-“ punch

“DOUBT-“ punch

“ALL-“ punch

“THE-“ punch

“TIME!” punch

“Alright alright I get it goddamn—if you weren’t pregnant you know I would punch you just as hard.” You scowled as you rubbed your arm. “Sorry y/n.” She apologized and chuckled. “We’re not interrupting right?” Hana spoke up causing you and Jamie to turn. The three men stood behind her and your face fell. The air shifted and you suddenly felt cold.

“No just work stuff.” You said and you quickly stood up. “Welcome to my home. You’re welcome to sit at the table.” You said and closed your laptop. “Would you like anything to drink..?” You asked, trying to be hospitable and Hana scoffed. “Give them water, you don’t have to be nice to them.” Hana said and she sat by Jamie. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at the three men. “Water is fine..” Suna spoke up and the twins nodded.

“Sit.” Jamie said and motioned to the dining chairs. They all sat awkwardly while waiting for you to come back from the kitchen. You had your tray with their water, more tea for you and Jamie, and a glass of wine for Hana.

“Alright where do we start..” you said as you sat down next to Suna since that was the only empty spot. “The beginning.” Jamie shrugged. “I already explained what happened. I told her everything.” Jamie told the boys and immediately Atsumu scowled. “Knowing you you probably made yourself sound less bad.” He muttered, immediately Hana was about to say something but you interrupted. “Did you make the bet?” You asked the blonde, “Y..Yeah..” he frowned and shifted in the seat awkwardly, “Did you accept the bet?” You turned to Suna. “Yes..” he said guiltily. “Did you think Suna would win?” You asked Osamu. “Yeah.” “Jamie Did you think pissy— I mean Atsumu would win?” You asked her and she sighed a yes. “And did you all bet with money?” You asked. They all replied with yeahs and yes’s.

“Did you guys agree to quit because it was wrong?” You asked and they all nodded. “Then that’s all that happened. I don’t need to know anything else.” You explained.

“Look guys.” Jamie spoke up and she tapped her manicured fingers on the table nervously. “It took a long ass time for Y/N to forgive me and trust me, I ruined her life and I’m blessed to have met her. Without her I’d probably still be in an abusive relationship. Without her I wouldn’t have learned how to be humble and grateful for even waking up in the morning. She’s my best friend and I’m telling you straight up if you truly want to be her friend again. You need to work for it, Suna if you really want to be in the kids lives and earn Y/N’s trust you truly need to work for it.” she said almost desperately.

“If you ever disrespect her again. I will not hesitate to sock you in the face and I’ll call up Tobio if I have to. That goes for all of you.” Hana told the three men.

“Do you guys have anything to say?” You asked. “I would apologize but I’d rather let you see it than hear it.” Suna spoke up and you nodded. “Alright.” You said simply.

“I’m sorry, Y/N-cha—I mean Kageyama.” Atsumu said. “I’m sorry Kageyama.” Osamu finished and you nodded once more.

“Okay this is awkward. I forgave you guys a long time ago but I don’t trust either of you. Atsumu, Osamu you are not obligated to be my friend. Suna you aren’t obligated to be my friend either but I would appreciate it if we were civil with one another for the sake of the kids. If you ever have any questions regarding the kids I’ll be happy to answer.” You told him as you played with the tea bag in your cup, and they all stared at you.

Like that’s it? You forgive them? You’re not going to throw your tea at them?

“Um I kind of want to ask about the ya know..”

“Pregnancy?” Hana raised a brow and Suna nodded awkwardly. “Like when did you find out....and is that why you left?” He asked. “If its alright can we talk about that in private?” You asked and stood up. “Y-yeah sure.” Suna stuttered and he stood up as well. “Hana, Jamie you don’t mind—“ “The bus honks at 13:30 we know. We’ll be able to hear it.”

“Yeah and we have a lot of catching up to do.” Jamie fake smiled and you wanted to snort at the her disgust and their awkwardness. “Alright follow me.” You motioned down the hall. You opened the door to the kids room and you took a step in. He followed you and closed the door. You both released a sigh and you sat on Akira’s bed. “You can sit there.” You motioned to your sons bed.

He nodded and sat on the small bed. “Okay so..the pregnancy..” you started. “Mhm.” He nodded. “I found out on January 25th, I wasn’t feeling the best for a while and I couldn’t handle the discomfort anymore so I went to the hospital with my mom. The doctor asked me the basic sex questions and tested my urine. My mom came into the room when I was told the news and I was basically disowned.” You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

You hugged your knees to your chest. He could already feel the shame you must have felt in his chest. “I had to walk to the pharmacy in my school uniform to get to prenatales since my mom told me to walk home. When I finally arrived home, my room was trashed and they were asking if you happened to be the dad. I told them no. He even threatened to kick me out and I told him I didn’t know so I was kicked out and I left. I spent the night at Hana’s and the next day I resigned as the team’s manager, and gathered all my papers to transfer.” You said and he rubbed his face and sighed.

His birthday.

You found out on his birthday.

He patiently listened and asked a few questions here or there and before you knew it you barley heard the faint foot steps and the door bursting open. You both turned to see your guy’s kids standing there. “See I told you they were talking.” Akira mumbled. “Aunt Hana said something about them making out.” Rini huffed.

“She said making up not out! Are you an idiot or an idiot?!” Akira said slightly frustratedly. “I’m older than you, don’t call me an idiot.” He said and shoved her. Before you could scold your son, you saw Akira’s whole demeanor change and you knew Rini was fucked. “How many times has mom said to stop shoving girls and pushing women! If you keep at it than you’re going to be a bad husband to your future wife someday you stupid Rabbit!” She yelled as she tackled him and began smacking him around. “Get off me you nerd!” He yelled and you quickly pulled Akira away.

Rini began crying and Akira did too and you sighed and turned to Suna.

“Welcome to parenthood.”

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

#haikyuu suna #miya atsumu #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarō #suna x reader #haikyuu x you #miya osamu #suna imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 5- Be Wary Of Old Friends

Summary: Your boys may annoy you at times but you’ll protect them with your life, especially when an unexpected acquaintance makes themselves know.

Warning: monster hunting ensues, reader goes a little feral, a bard in danger

Masterlist

"Hey songbird!" You shout from across the small campsite to where Jaskier is, "You helping pack or are you going to finger that lute all day?" You add with an amused laugh as he throws you a half-hearted glare while you start to snicker at his almost grossed out face.

"Y/N, you are hilarious." Mutters the bard unenthusiastically as he places his prized lute in her travel case, suddenly you hear a stick snap to your left near the woods. Raising to your feet at the sudden noise, you sigh in relief once Geralt emerges from the forest.

"Ah, yes, there you are." Announces Jaskier as he gains Geralt's attention, "Your lady here has been harassing me for the past ten minutes that you've been out and about." He complains, Geralt turns to you with a raised eyebrow.

Scoffing you roll your eyes, "Oh please, I've been the only one doing anything helpful since you've miraculously disappeared, and Jask can't stop from fondling his lute in the meantime." Geralt's lips pull at the corners of his mouth as Jaskier lets out a gasp at your nonchalant explanation.

"I was not fondling anything Y/N! Maybe if I shoved a wooden stake through your chest you'd stop...uh, you'd stop....being mean to me...yeah." Exclaims Jaskier with a hand on his hip, lute strapped to his shoulder as Geralt looks from you to the bard. Oh, you are seriously enjoying this.

A smirk makes its way onto your face at his words, "I'd like to see you try, you pampered little princess." You sass with a raise of your eyebrow as he purses his lips together at your admittedly bland insult, you're just trying to rile him up for the fun of it.

"Maybe I can....be violent, you have yet to see what I can do with these hands." He boasts while Geralt packs a last bag onto Roach's back, doing his best to ignore yourself and Jaskier's back and forth comments.

"Oh right, besides gettin' it on with the ladies of the high court with those sneaky paws of yours...so we have to save your stupid ass when things go south." You chuckle while pulling on your cloak, Jaskier simply shakes his head at you as Geralt leads Roach over to where you're standing.

He gently nudges your arm affectionately, "Come on you two, time to go elsewhere before the sun goes down." Implores Geralt as he looks at your amused face, Roach letting out a snort of agreement.

Jaskier turns his head up towards the cloudy sky, "But it's not even seven in the morning yet." Protests the bard as you walk past him with a mischievous wink.

"You wanted to come remember. Get inspiration for your ballots and all the good shit." He shakes his head as a humored grin comes to his face, you got him there.

"Right. Right. You enjoy my company I know it." Calls after the bard while you continue up the woodland trail, trees and bushes to either side while he turns his attention back to Geralt, "I know it, she's fond of me I can just tell. Underneath all that mystery, satirical annoyance, unprecedented violent tendencies and whatnot. She thinks I'm interesting. Right?" Wonders Jaskier as Geralt leads Roach around him.

He glances at Jaskier for a moment to answer with a bit of wisdom, "Give it some time bard." He mutters, Jaskier jogs over to his side with a puzzled look upon his face implying that Geralt should continue, "It took me a while to gain her full trust and respect, she's just testing you Jask...it's in her nature or something of the like. It's how she shows her love, in her own way." The bard gives a thoughtful nod as he watches you walk down the trail.

"What do I have to do?" Wonders Jaskier with a shrug, "Kill a man with my bare hands...or..or perhaps I must tame a bear to juggle wild rabbit heads?" Inquirers Jaskier as he turns to look at you once again, his eyes going wide as he suddenly realizes you're nowhere to be found.

Jaskier nudges your Witcher who looks at him rather bored like, "Uh, Geralt...uh..wh-where has she gone. I don't happen to see Y/N anymore, I mean we haven't been walking that slow now have we?" He rambles nervously as his head turns from right to left and back down the trail again, "Geralt seriously, where the fuck did Y/N go....I'd really rather not have her scare me, again."

"Now watching you tame a bear..." Jaskier jumps while letting out a small yelp in surprise at the unexpected sound of your sly voice from behind him, "That would be interesting and very entertaining...but no, I just enjoy pushing your buttons cause let me be honest here, its too goddamn easy." Jaskier sends you a glare as you walk to his side while he tries to keep pace with you and Geralt.

"My gods Y/N you're such a...uh well...never mind it, I'm going to have to remind myself that you can hear incredibly well...and do," He points his fingers to your humored form, "That. Even traveling with you two for a whole year and all."

You slowly nod, a thoughtful expression on your face, "If I showed you what else I'm capable of, you'd probably shit yourself so don't fret, I'll save your eyes the horror." Jaskier glances at you with a wary doubtful look in his eyes as he hugs his lute closer in the cool morning breeze. Feeling his suspicious gaze upon you, a low chuckle escapes from your lips that sends mist into the crisp air like a dragon about to spit fire.

"Oh thanks I feel so much better now." Replies Jaskier, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

——

After a solid week of traveling through woodland trails, over bridges, and past rows of plowed fields. Your band of merry adventurers has made it to a small lakeside village overlooking magnificent mountains that tower high into the sky, ones that reflect beautifully off of the shimmering crystal blue lake below.

When you make it to the stables, the sky has turned into an exquisite mix of fiery oranges, reds, and purples that paint the sky and some of her wispy clouds overhead. A cool but refreshing breeze blows in your faces as it makes your cloaks flap in the wind with every new gust.

Once Roach has been fed and watered in her comfortable new temporary stall for the night, you and Geralt make your way to the only tavern in the village where Jaskier can be heard singing loudly his newest ballot. Something about how you and Geralt fought bravely back a pack of fierce shapeshifters on one hunt. The songs almost truthful, the exception being that the shapeshifters were actually old friends of Jaskier's who were pissed off cause he owed them money. In the end, they didn't get any money, mostly because they're not currently alive anymore to need it.

"I was hoping for a quiet evening, we could just drink our fill and then sleep in an actual bed for once....no one to bother us." Admits Geralt as he opens up the wooden door for you to walk inside the warm welcoming tavern.

Turning your face to look up at him you let out a yawn hidden behind your arm, "No one to bother us sounds very enticing." You muse while turning your attention back to the bustling tavern life.

The place is lit up with candles positioned at each table, a roaring fire casts shadows over the room from its prison in the hearth as you find an empty corner just perfect for yourself and Geralt. Taking the lead you walk past a couple drunken tavern goers on your way to the quiet corner of the place. Almost hidden from Jaskier's very loud singing that's taking place by the fire where a significant amount of women are sat, listening intently as they practically undress him with their eyes.

Sliding into the corner first, you lean yourself against the wall as Geralt sits down next to you, your legs touching even though there's enough room that you wouldn't have to be so close. You can tell how much he's been holding back since Jaskier has been around to ruin most of the fun.

Letting out a satisfied sigh as you close your eyes, your ears listen to the sounds of a woman's footsteps approaching your table, "Welcome travelers I'm Misha, what'll it be this even'n?" Announces a peppy teenager through a peculiar accent as she looks between the two of you with big curious brown eyes.

"Two ale's and whatever's on the menu for tonight." Mutters Geralt as you open your scarlet irises while holding your tired head up with the palm of your hand, a lazy smile painted onto your face. Her own eyes widen for a brief moment before she regains her bearings once again, flashing a nervous smile a she abruptly turns on her heel for the kitchens.

Looking over to the lively sight of the singing bard you smile, "Wonder who's going to keep Jask warm tonight, huh?" You chuckle as Geralt turns an amused smirk towards you while you shift your eyes back to the singing bard.

Geralt nudges his shoulder against yours, "Could be that blonde one in green or maybe the redhead to his left?" You find the ladies that he's referring to and watch as Jaskier gives the she-fox a charming wink.

Turning your attention back to Geralt, he looks down at you with a raise of his brow, "Oh it's definitely the redhead, she's already caught his eye so we needn't concern ourselves with him till morning, if all goes well for him that is." You muse as the tavern maid sets two ale's in front of you, a shy smile gracing her young face as she leaves.

Grasping your mug you take a hearty much needed chug before slamming it onto the table and wiping off your mouth, "Oh fuck yeah I've missed what real ale tastes like." You breath out happily as Geralt lightly sets his half empty mug onto the wooden table while you take another sip.

"It's not half bad." He admits with a shrug as you lean into his side.

You're about to comment on how lackluster his review was when your crimson eyes light up at the large single plate of trout and various steaming greens coming your way, "Ah yes our foods here."

After eating your meal and finishing off your glasses while forcing yourselves to listen to Jaskier's ballots that you've heard over a hundred times. You and Geralt get up and head to the bar for a key to a room upstairs. You watch as Jaskier disappears into a room with the redhead from earlier as you turn to face the young woman at the bar.

"Room for two....please." She gives you a quick nod before searching a drawer for the key to a room. Once she finds them you're able to take the rusted old key and walk over to the stairway as Geralt silently follows. The climb up is a short one, your quest taking you both to the end of the dimly lit hallway until you finally reach your room.

Stepping inside you look around the place and notice a small window, a decently large bed, and a fireplace next to it. The room isn't terrible if you're being honest and the bed looks incredibly inviting after sleeping on the ground for almost a month. Your face shifting into a pleasant grin as you drop your belongings and weapon onto the ground.

"Nice place." You add while turning around to give Geralt a knowing smirk, his face breaking out into a grin at your silent implications, "Guess we better test out the bed.." His golden eyes trail up your body as you continue, "make sure it's soft enough and..." You don't have time to finish as Geralt's soft lips have entrapped you into a heated embrace, his calloused hands snaking around you as yours does the same.

He gently leads you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed, your lips still locked with one another the whole time, even while he tenderly lays you onto your back. The mattress is soft and inviting as Geralt climbs over you, never once breaking the kiss to your great satisfaction.

——

Walking over to a table, three drinks in one hand and a plate of fresh bread and butter in the other. You watch in amusement at the morning faces of your Witcher and bard who look like they desperately need something to wake them up with.

"So Jask how was the redhead last night, was she all you'd dreamed of...did she fulfill every last perverted wish of yours?" You jest with a smirk as you set the drinks and plate of food onto the table, setting yourself down next to Geralt.

Jaskier shakes his head as a bashful smile appears onto his lips, "It was...very pleasant and uh...that's all the information I'll let you have." He retorts while taking a sip from one of the provided cups in an attempt at hiding behind the glass. Honestly you're kinda glad he has decided against spilling any private details, something he usually does much to yours and Geralt's disgust.

Geralt hums before adding in his two cents, "No one can quite resist your charms no matter where we seem to go." He deadpans while breaking off a warm piece of bread that he kindly hands to you before reaching over to break off a new chunk for himself.

Jaskier looks down with an almost shy smile before taking another sip, "Well, I try not to pride myself or anything, it's just a talent you see...which of course my voice and handiwork with my lute helps, also having you two as friends seems to peak some interest in the ladies now since I think of it." He replies as he stuffs a fluffy piece of bread into his mouth.

"Glad we could help then." You add with a cheerful raise of your mug before downing the rest of the liquid. The three of you taking a couple blissful minutes of peace to eat and wake up.

Glancing around the room you watch for any new tavern goers who may spark your interest as you suddenly decide to get on with your morning, "I'm going to pay, you two want anything while I'm up?"

"Um yeah, Valdo Marx's head on a shiny platter...that's all." Quips Jaskier with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"I'll see what I can do." You reply before turning around and walking over to the bar where the young brown eyed woman is tending to a customer.

Leaning your arms against the shiny wood of the counter you nod to the old man next to you who gives a cautious glare as you turn your head to the bartender, "Misha, right? Here's the coin for the room and the food. We'll be off soon enough."

She turns to you with a frown, "Just one night? That's too bad, we've actually been havin' some troubles 'round here recently and it would be wonderful if you and that Witcher could possibly help..."

"Will you shut it girl, we don't need no outsiders knowing of our business," Snaps the man from earlier as he sneers at her, "We got men handling it just fine." He adds with a gruff nod, his cold steely eyes intimidating to the innocent tavern maid.

Her once happy face goes sad as unshed tears form in her shimmering doe eyes while she ignores the grump, "Twenty are already dead miss, my poor brother included..."

"Shut your fucking mou.."

"If you interrupt her again I'll cut off your tongue and shove it up your ass." You threaten as your eyes glow bright red, the old greying man abruptly goes silent at your heated warning as you turn your cooler demeanor back to the young girl, "Tell me more about this...whatever the fuck that's slaughtering your village's men."

Her brows furrow in troubled thought as she looks back up to you, "Uh, they come back looking, well...mutilated, their throats practically torn out, their chests ripped open and their eyes gone, bodies pale as ghosts." A frightful expression flashes across her terrified face, "But it's not just the men.." She whispers while leaning her head in closer to yours, "The village women have gone missing, snatched from their beds in the middle of the night...never seen from again...no one knows who takes them but..."

"How long has this been going on for?" You quickly interrupt, wanting to find out if your growing suspicions are possibly correct.

"About five months now, it happens around the same time every month in fact, oh god...this night is when the beast usually strikes...", A single tear runs down the side of her face as she tries to control her trembling, "I don't want to be taken miss, but I must tell you....some have said that the creature walks like a man, is too swift to be truly seen, and can magically get into your house...no matter if its locked or not." Your eyebrows furrow in concern for the girl and this alarming news that's slowly starting to fit into place.

"You said tonight yes...hm alright, where have these bodies been found, I mean isn't there any tracks in the mud or sand, on trails?" Misha quickly shakes her head as the old man listens intently, thankfully minding his own.

Smirking at a new and appealing thought you find her wary eyes once again, "I've gotten an idea, would your village happen to have a carriage for long traveling, I think we may be able to lure the beast away from the village with the thing during the time that you claim it comes into town." She gives a hopeful smile as you return one just the same.

"Miss I can get that arranged for you in no time. Meet me by the stables, an hour before sunset and my father will have the carriage waiting....oh bless you, he'll be ever so grateful." She affirms happily with a beaming smile, though behind it all you can tell how truly terrified she really is. She hopes whatever plan you have works, you're hoping it will too.

Setting down your coin, she quickly takes it before tending to another tavern goer, but as you turn to leave the old man grasps your arm, "Do you really think its possible, that the man-beast can be killed?" He wonders in a hushed tone as he looks up with pleading eyes, they soon turn skeptical once again, "I don't believe a word anyone says until I see it with me own two eyes."

Removing his arm from your own you nod to him, "I'll gut the fucker and put its head on a spike, then you'll know for yourself." His face morphs into a troubled expression as you leave him doubting by the bar, your mind now set on how to handle the new problem hiding like a coward in the woods.

—-

Walking to the stables with Geralt by your side and Jaskier on your tail, you casually touch the side of your hip, making certain that your silver dagger is still in its place.

"So what...or I guess whom do you presume this monster is again Y/N?" Questions the bard as he falls in step with you.

"I'll be one hundred percent certain once I actually see it, Jask. So until then, no more questions or I'll shove that pretty jacket of yours down your throat." You muse as he gives a curt nod.

"Yes alright, noted Y/N. Noted." Mutters Jaskier as Geralt holds back a laugh.

Once the three of you make it to the stables, you're pleasantly surprised to find a black two horsed carriage awaiting you along with Misha and her father who appears to be rather glad that someone is finally here to put an end to the deaths and mystery. She instructs you three to trek on the northern trail, where the pine forest is located, same area that the man-beast has made its hunting grounds, or so its claimed.

With that in mind you direct Geralt to take the reigns and for Jaskier to hold a silver sword as he keeps himself in the actual carriage, while you keep close by in the woods for a better view of the beast and where it may be coming from. Then just like that you're off and into the crisp night air as a full moon graces you all with its brightness upon the land, you fly through the great pine trees as you follow Geralt who's leading the horses down the wide woodland trail. Luckily the woods seem mostly vacant of bushes and greenery of the like, only tall bristly pines tower over the ground as they leave the woods shadowed from the rising moon.

"Geralt. Heyyyyyy Geeeeraltttt." Whines Jaskier from within the small carriage as Geralt holds tightly onto the leather reigns, a soft cool breeze blowing his silver hair back.

"What?" Grumbles the Witcher with a sigh, eyes set to the path ahead.

Jaskier leans back into the velvety cushions as he crosses his arms over his chest, "You think I could have a peek, you know...sit up there with you? I mean come on, I'm not seeing shit back here and I think.."

"No."

Letting out a huff in annoyance, the bard knocks onto the back of the wall where Geralt is leaned against on the other side, "Y/N doesn't have to know. I'll be as still as a statue and quieter then a dormouse...she'll never even know." Exclaims Jaskier has he pauses for a second to see if Geralt gives a shit, not getting anything he continues, "Come on, this man-beast or whoever the fuck can't be that horrendous now can it right? Those villagers could have been pulling her leg for all we know, what if its just a werewolf, I mean seriously it is a full moon after all. Perfect scenario, the stars are quit literally aligning....hellooooo its gotta be a werewolf."

"It left bodies and has taken multiple women, this is something else. So I advise you to shut the fuck up." Growls Geralt over the clip clopping of the horses hooves against the hardened ground. Jaskier wisely decides to keep silent and instead look out the tiny window as a way to distract himself. He watches as a sea of trees pass by, the occasional fern cluster rising from the roots, and a reddish brown blur that goes from tree to tree.

Squinting he realizes that this mystery blur is most definitely not just a figment of his imagination and quit possibly hunting them from the tree tops. He stares on in confused bewilderment as the man like thing jumps from one branch to the next in rapid succession, although he's only able to catch a prominent glimpse of it as the moonlight catches it when it jumps. The creature looks black in the white light of the full moon, a large healthy mane of reddish brown hair flying as it lunges from tree to tree. Still too fast to fully make out.

He blinks and a second later the creature is gone, Jaskier lets out a whispered "oh shit" as he shuts the tiny window and grasps the hilt of his silver sword while hastily knocking on the carriage wall, "Geralt I saw it, I fucking saw it...Y/N wasn't lying this thing is most definitely not a werewolf."

Geralt's brows furrow in confusion as he listens to what Jaskier is rambling on about, "What did it look like?"

"Like a fucking pale monkey man wearing black with red hair or something. I don't know it happened so fast...sorry I was too busy getting my prized jewels fondled by the lovely elven lady in this carriage to notice anything else." He sasses from the back as Geralt rolls his eyes, suddenly the carriage jostles from the rear like something has angrily rammed into it.

"That wasn't me." Squeaks out Jaskier with wide eyes as he firmly clutches his sword with both hands. A moment later something fast with sharp talons whips past Geralt's head from the right as it leaves a clean slice on his cheek, and then its gone again like it never even happened. He snaps his head in the direction of the creature, too late to catch a glimpse.

Eyeing up the area around him, he braces for another unexpected assault, "Where are you?" Whispers Geralt to no one in particular as he holds onto the reigns with one hand and a sword in his other as he waits for the beast to make itself known. He can sense the nervousness radiating off of the galloping horses as he watches ahead of him, the pine trees swaying in the wind, making it increasingly more difficult to tell where the beast is coming from. On the inside of the carriage Jaskier braces for more trouble as a moment later, without warning the carriage lifts off of the ground before slamming into the dirt trail with a loud crack. The back wheels snapping off with the abrupt impact, he falls forward into the nearby cushions as the carriage skids in the dirt.

"Fuck." Mutters Geralt through clenched teeth as the horses race onward, then to his great astonishment, one of them lets out a horrific scream as a river of blood pours forth from its muscular neck by an unseen force that he must have missed when he was trying to regain his bearings after the back wheels collapsed.

He watches in confusion and slight fear as the bleeding horse clashes into the other, the both of them abruptly tripping over themselves in a screeching heap as they fall to the earth. Bringing the carriage down with them, the Witcher jumps for the safety of the ground as the vessel tips onto its side, the only live horse whining in pain as one of the broken wooden pieces lodges itself into the poor animals stomach.

Jumping to his feet, Geralt races over to the bent in door where he quickly pulls it open to reveal a bruised bard, Jaskier's sword stuck into the back wall. He smiles up to Geralt as a trail of blood seeps out of his nose, "I'm gonna be honest here, but that was not something I'd rather ever do again." He confesses as the Witcher pulls him out and onto his feet as they stand back and assess their woodland surroundings.

Suddenly they hear a branch snap from up above near the tree line where the edge of the trail begins, before a dreamy chuckle snaps their attention over to a stunning pale faced man approaching them from out of the woods. He looks at them curiously through fiery ember eyes, his long tousled reddish-brown hair hanging all about as it cascades down his muscular shoulders all the way to his lower back. On his lean slender body does he adorn himself with black attire under an equally as dark long-coat that just barely touches the frosting ground below. He's rather quite attractive all things considered, as he swaggers through the moonlight with not a weapon in sight, or anything for that matter in his gloveless hands, only but a few golden rings clinging to their master that shine in the moonlight.

He hands Geralt and Jaskier a sly grin, revealing sharp pearly white fangs as he stops a good couple yards away from them, "So you're the infamous White Wolf...and of course...his loyal bard." Inquires the mysterious vampire as he speaks in an entrancing velvety voice, his glowing irises watching their every move as he tilts his head to the side, "But alas, you lack one which I would love to grace my aged eyes upon once again." Reveals the enticing man as he looks dismally to the ground before he raises his head to smile again, his beautiful reddish hair parting perfectly onto either side of his sculpted marble face.

"Are you the one who's been killing men and taking the women?" Snaps Geralt as he points an accusing sword towards the smirking vampire.

The man merely shrugs, a single hair falling seductively over his eye as he peers through it at your Witcher, "The men are simply human cattle, barely worth the air they breath. The women on the other hand, came willingly into my open arms from their beds and rather dreary mundane lives. My compliant acquisitive lovers if you will." Assures the ember eyed vampire as he takes a step closer, Jaskier taking one back as he stands behind Geralt, the vampire smirking at him as Jaskier tries to hide.

"Don't touch the bard." Growls Geralt while holding up his silver sword defensively, "He's not worth your energy."

The vampires face changes to that of a fake pout, "Oh my dear Witcher, I admire your bravery and valor...but I'm hungry and I will get what I desire one way or another." The vampires fiery eyes darken as he races towards the two of them in a black and orange blur, Geralt and Jaskier falling helplessly onto the crunchy leaves just mere feet from one another as the vampire paces in front of them like a lion in a cage. The bloodsucker suddenly stops and watches in amusement as the two groan in pain while trying to sit up again. He tilts his head to the side like a curious wolf observing their prey, before deciding to take another step.

"Velkyn."

He halts all movement as his body goes tense for a split second before his otherworldly charming aurora surrounds him once more, with a fangy smile upon his dashing features he turns around to the low growl emitting from deep in your throat.

His orbs of hellfire trail you up and down as you glare at him, "Why don't you look stunning, my dear Y/N. How longs it been...ninety, one-hundred, two-hundred years my love?"

Your face turns into a pissed off scowl at his words, "You. Don't get to call me that, you fucking cocksucker." He unpretentiously lets out a mock gasp at your bold sharpness, amused that you're still as out-spoken and feisty as ever.

Setting a hand on his slender hip, Velkyn smiles an incredibly punchable grin, "Ouch. You haven't seen me in almost two-hundred years and the second those beautiful scarlet eyes of yours grace my body..."

"What are you doing away from Alkatraz?" You interrupt as your fists clench in agitation, "What, did they finally see how much of a piece of shit you actually are?" You snap as he sends you a nasty glare, the side of his nose scrunching up in displeasure.

"I chose to leave the coven, the Queen gave her blessing an..."

"Right. You mean she threatened you, giving yourself one chance to flee before her death-hounds tore you to shreds. Sounds more plausible." You impede as he squints at you menacingly.

Jutting out a hip, he eyes you up once again, "Very clever, princess. No matter....you will leave me alone and I will continue on my marry way as things have gone on, before you decided to ruin everything."

Letting out an amused chuckle, you slowly unsheathe your silver dagger, "You're nothing but a cantankerous infant, murdering innocents....seducing the women while having your fun and sucking them of their life force." He tilts his head up as his flaming irises never once leave your face, "I know they didn't go willingly you fucking diseased little cunt....I'm rather going to enjoy as I watch the lights go out, leaving you as nothing more then food for maggots." Velkyn hums in irritation before swiftly turning around and bolting for Geralt and Jaskier.

But before he's able to reach them you're at his side, throwing him into a tree as he smacks into the tough wood with a clash of bark and limbs. Once he's onto his two feet again, he looks up just as you violently grab his shoulders and in one fluid motion, throw him across the forest floor. Geralt and Jaskier watching on with wide eyes the whole time.

"Fuck me, you still have it." Sputters Velkyn as a single red streak of blood trails down the side of his mouth. You smirk at this pathetic excuse of a vampire as you race towards him in a blur, he tries to retreat but before he can even get up off of the ground you've already cracked your boot against his skull. He tumbles in the dirt with a pained grunt, suddenly flying up to his feet in an instant as he growls at you. Within seconds he's thrust you into the trunk of a tree as your dagger falls from your hand at the sudden impact, he tightly grasps onto your arms as he throws you harshly upon the trail, leaving you dazed and more furious then ever.

"Not as clever as you'd like to think you are Y/N, I drink human blood. You don't." He brashly affirms as he watches you pick yourself up from the ground, dirt and blood smeared against your face. Licking the bloody cut now adorning your bottom lip, you mockingly chuckle at him, earning a puzzled expression across his pale features while the slice in your skin heals.

"You can't kill me." The whites of your eyes begin shifting to an obsidian black as your skin turns a greyish blue color, "I am Y/N of Alkatraz, the Vampire Queens only daughter....do that again and I'll rip out your entrails while you scream for death."

Velkyn hisses before turning himself into a half man half bat-like creature, face a contortion of bat and human man, his skin a milky pale as a large pair of webbed wings emit from his back. He suddenly screeches at you before spreading out his wings, readying himself to take flight. Doing what you know must be done to prevent his escape you shift yourself into a similar form, a pair of greyish blue wings stretching out from your back muscles as you thrust yourself into the air, just as Velkyn reaches the tops of the tree branches.

Gaining on him in no time, you grasp his pale human sized bat leg, he snaps his grotesque bat-like face down to you while you growl at him from below, "Fuck do you think you're going?" You snap before pulling him down to the harsh forest floor, he lands roughly onto his back as your legs fall to either side of him.

Growling in fury he quickly shoots up his talons in an attempt at clawing at your chest and face, but before he's able to commit anymore damage. You've ripped open his exposed stomach with a single slash of your claws, a second later he lets out a blood curdling shriek as a hot river of red pours out of him, his insides beginning to seep out just the same.

In a desperate last attempt to injure you, his eyes go wide in raging madness as his free arm lunges for your neck, you see it coming a mile away. So in retaliation you quickly pin his arms to the ground as you sink your fangs deep into his pale neck as he cries out in agony at your vicious assault. You feed on him until he's gone limp, your more primal hunger taking over your vessel until you abruptly catch the familiar scent of your Witcher and fearful bard.

Releasing Velkyn's mutilated throat, you shift back into your normal self as blood drips down from your chin and neck, tiny red droplets plopping onto the frosty hardened earth below like warm raindrops on a spring afternoon. Breathing heavily you avoid their suffocating gazes that you're sure are terrified from what you've just done.

"Uh, Y/N. You alright?" Wonders Jaskier as you slowly trail your crimson eyes upon his concerned face. You're confident that you look like a wild animal right now, with your hair a mess, clothes dirty, and half your face covered in blood. But nonetheless they look at you kindly, their brows furrowing in worry for your well-being.

Geralt suddenly makes eye contact with you before reaching down to pick up your forgotten silver dagger, he takes a step forward as he reaches out the dagger in your direction.

On instinct you glide backwards, setting your boots upon the ground once more as your Witcher frowns, "Y/N I wouldn't dare lay a hand upon you.." He assures with sincere pleading eyes as you look down to the grass below. Slowly lifting your blood covered hands into your line of sight, you stare at them with wide saddened eyes as tiny beads of ruby falls to the ground.

"My hands, they're covered in..."

"I know," Your eyes trail up to find his golden irises, "come on there's a stream down the trail, we'll get you cleaned up. Then we can go to the tavern and sleep until the next evening if that's what you'd like" Assures Geralt with a gentle smile upon his handsome face, he understands how much of a monster you truly feel right now, so he's willing to do whatever he can to bring you a bit of comfort in this overwhelming moment.

You let out a tired huff of air as he slowly approaches you, his face so close to yours you could almost touch him, but you don't considering you're covered in blood, "I think I'll take you on that offer, but could you stop looking at me with those pretty eyes of yours before I lose my self control. You're doing it again." You muse with a small smile upon your blood stained face.

"And what would you do then?" He challenges in that lowly voice of his, those big amber eyes taking you all in no matter how grisly your state of being is.

Smiling up at him through your pearly white fangs you lean in close, "Then I would mark you as all mine, in my own way of course. You'd love it without a doubt in my mind." He blinks, a lovestruck expression crossing over his features with a brief flash of lust hidden in his golden eyes while he leans in a tad closer. Your faces so close that you can see every little beautiful blemish and scar adorning his skin as his eyes swallow you whole.

"Uh guys? Can we...you know....leave. I don't know if you've noticed but we have two dead horses and a bloody monster corpse within smelling distance. And wheew, it is not a pleasant scent." Interrupts Jaskier, breaking the intimate moment between you and Geralt as you take a step back to laugh. Geralt's loving gaze following you the whole time before he turns around to glare at the oblivious bard.

—-

Laying your tired head against the soft pillows of the warm tavern's bed, you look up to the wooden beamed ceiling as Geralt holds you close by his side, a protective muscly arm pinning you to the mattress. Not that you'd mind or anything, in fact it feels rather pleasant after your taxing encounter with an old acquaintance of yours just last night.

You sleepily close your eyelids as you listen to the soft snores emitting from your dreaming Witcher, a blissful smile forming onto your lips as he pulls you closer in his sleep. Maybe life in this mystery box of a Continent isn't so bad when you have someone like Geralt to take care of you when things get a bit out of hand.

And with you, that seems to happen a lot.

Tagged: @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x reader #geralt x you #Of monsters and men fic

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anayaahwrites · 3 years

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KOT Ficlet #5 (Momoya Natsu/ Yoshinaga Atsumu)

When the lights start flashing like a photo booth (And the stars exploding, we'll be fireproof.)

Warning: Themes of underage drinking and implied sexual content.

Natsu roughly based on this art by @sasukeslove

A small AU on MomoYoshi's first meeting:

...

Natsu is six when he learns about Angels.

He’s perched on mama’s lap, carrying a new storybook with tiny hands and slowly pronouncing all the words. Her proud smile encourages him to read the larger words too, the ones he’d avoid out of embarrassment—something about a pro-fe-cky and a pro-mice that He exists up there somewhere, over the pillowy clouds watching down on them.

Mama tucks him in that night and tells Natsu to close his eyes and pray because Angels only come to good boys.

He’s ten when it all sounds like bullshit to him.

Over the years, Mom’s rosy smile had withered into a fatigued sigh, a cry for help to the God that never answers no matter how much they pray. Dad was more a guest than a resident. He came around once in a while to eat lunch—with a taut smile plastered eerily over his smooth features—and swiftly vanish to not return in that week .

They’ve stopped waiting for him and Natsu stops asking questions.

He’s thirteen when he meets Sei, a child around his age, except so much more charming and calm and composed for someone that carried half the same set of genes Natsu had. He learns of his father’s betrayal and is honestly shocked at his own lack of surprise. Still, he questions his God and why why why would He let mom’s heart shatter like that?

Sei is quick to laugh and tell him that God doesn’t exist and mom is just a victim to their monster of a father.

So he goes home that day to his outraged mother, hair coloured like glittery Christmas tinsel and sapphire lenses replacing his usual shade of honey brown. She snaps at the sight, yelling at him till her throat closes up, till nothing but a harsh sob escapes her and he lets her. They both had to cope somehow.

By the fall of his fourteenth year, he gets pierced four times and stops talking to his mother almost completely.

To hell with dad. To hell with God.

Natsu is fifteen, and he doesn’t care about anything anymore.

He’s fifteen and quickly realising from his daily job as a guitarist in the club that girls aren't attractive no matter how much they flock around him. He still humours them sometimes, a touch here, a kiss there since the pay is good enough for him to add some extra service on his part.

Mom plies herself with work as often as possible, to douse her misery in the decayed scent of piled papers and clunking keyboards. She leaves Natsu to deal with everything else on his own like the obedient son he is, letting him go like dad left her.

Natsu is alright, though. He’s done this far longer than she knows.

He stops reaching out to her, stops talking to someone up in the skies, settling instead to live a tranquil life in the shadows, under the dependable shade of music. He hates people. He hates the world.

Natsu is basking in the warmth of another uneventful day in the club, when in walks a boy out of fucking nowhere and his entire world tips on its axis.

The boy takes shaky, wary steps as if he were balancing on a trapeze. Dark black bangs like thick black rain spill over the side of his face, half covering wide brown eyes. Splotches of pink and porcelain white stick out where his sweater ends and skin begins. He’s small and delicate and beautiful, Natsu’s heart skips a beat. Or two. Or maybe three.

And why should he lie? Natsu has seen beautiful, quite a few varieties of it too. But this…this was different. This was unreal.

The boy looks around nervously before he catches something and there’s a spark in those hazel eyes, sharp and electric, a smile tugging at his lips.

Natsu follows his gaze. On the stage lies his own guitar—a pre-performance habit for people to know he was next. He took great pride because this itself garnered more clusters than anyone in the entire house.

Natsu smiles. So he was a fan.

He downs the customary shot of vodka, waving at the people before hopping on stage and wrapping the sling around his neck. He scours the audience for a familiar face and it doesn’t take a lot, to spot a splatter of ink black in the crowd, batting eager eyelids at him. The smaller boy realises the attention on him and glances behind to confirm his suspicion.

By the time he swings around, eyes blown wide in a stare, Natsu plays the first chord.

In an instant, his expression shifts to a mix of awe and interest, a silent worship and a loud cheer compiled in one small, thin body. He claps more than anyone else in the room, beaming like a floodlight by the time Natsu finishes.

It was nothing strange. He played among cheers every day but none felt as satisfying with this voice hooting and clearly standing out from his regular gang of squealing girls. He throws his head back laughing back stage when no one is there to see.

By the time Natsu gets out on the floor again, a little more thrilled for the night and dressed in something less flashy, he’s gone. He screws his lips in displeasure and asks his friend to make him something stronger than the usual.

This happens more nights than not, and it was frustrating him.

The moment Angel boy—as he’s dubbed him, steps in through the door, Natsu traces his every move and quickly registers a pattern. He only comes around on days the club was the busiest—specifically during Natsu’s performance, talks to no one and leaves before he has the chance to even ask a name.

Not that Natsu was interested in him or anything. He was just curious, is all—why this boy looked like a starved pet every time he saw him on stage and if he really smelled like soft winter blankets and warm fireplaces, all angelic and pure.

Okay, so maybe he was a little interested.

Months pass like that.

The mid-November chill comes with its blistering snowstorms and the club is jam packed—winters were some of their busiest months—and Natsu’s up to perform. Instead of preparing, he watches the door resolutely from the bar, tapping impatiently at the table.

As routine, it barely opens a crack, and he sees a sliver of ebony snaking it’s way through the crowd. The boy stands on his tippy-toes which don’t give him much of a view, so he does these tiny jumps—that are so adorable, for a second Natsu forgets his own name—and scowls when he notices no guitar on stage.

He checks the time, the stage and then scans the crowd. The anticipation throbs through Natsu as he follows his eyes cross the room in slow motion, dragging dragging until they eventually land on him. Everything stills—the thundering music, the singing and all he can hear is the low thump of veins against his skin.

It’s over in a flash.

“That your Angel boy?” The bartender gestures at the figure turning tail and running, drying the pad on his prized work station. He skillfully pours two coloured liquids into an oddly shaped glass and passes it over the counter to him.

Natsu hums, swirling the absinthe stained drink in hand, eyeing the smaller boy gasp as a couple slams against the door, clearly piss drunk with her suspended over his thighs and gyrating her hips into the man.

“Hey, chief.”

“Hm?”

“You think I can get off early tonight?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Like when?”

“Like now.” Natsu answers, never letting his gaze falter from the head full of black hair slowly receding through the crowd, horrified.

The man guffaws, lifting a glass of water—since he can’t drink on duty—and clinking it with Natsu’s.

“Must be fuckin’ Christmas if you’re taking interest in anyone, so I’ll let this one pass. Don’t scare him off now. He already looks like a trembling lamb.”

Natsu knocks back the contents, swallowing the liquid till it numbs his entire mouth and smirks.

“I’ll try.”

So he follows the boy. Hands are immediately all over him from faces he recognises in passing—a girl he once kissed, someone that made him cake, but he pushes them off.

His boy of interest forces the hood of his shirt up all the way, and glances behind him once before increasing his pace. Maybe the lights are really getting to him and maybe Natsu is a little tipsy when he reaches out to grab his hand.

The boy flips around to lock eyes frantically, as if a ghost had seized him.

“Hey.” Natsu musters his sweetest smile.

“Hi..” The boy replies.

And oh, his voice. It’s sugary sweet and so so soft like—like actual rolls of smooth and silky cotton had woven them. He blushes fiercely under Natsu’s relentless gaze and stares where their hands were connected in a tight grip as if it burned holes through him.

Natsu frowns. “Don’t run.”

The boy’s gaze shoots up, and he’s pulling away.

“I-I’m sorry I really h-have to go—”

“It’s my birthday.” Goddamn, he must be really wasted to admit that. Now that he thinks about it, what did he just drink?

Twentieth November, the day he was born and incidentally also the day he found his father’s tongue down another woman’s throat, holding a child over his shoulder.

“Oh,” The boy stops, pursing his lips and letting the hood go all the way down before flashing easily one of the most ethereal smiles Natsu has ever seen.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” he replies awkwardly. “It’s not going really well.”

“No?”

Natsu nods. “It’s nothing different.”

“You want it to be special?”

The buzz in his nerves practically screamed a yes to that—he wanted something to remember, to bury the horrible memories he associated with this day, for the days he wished he was never born in the first place. He wanted to fit it all in this one boy in one night, this angel he didn’t even know, to free him from himself.

Natsu tightens his grip. “Dance with me?”

Oh boy, the alcohol was talking.

Angel boy looks at Natsu with wide doe eyes, peers back at their hands and gulps. Natsu frowns and releases his hold. He was drunk, probably a little more than he’d admit to, but he didn’t want to pressurize anyone—not when this boy already looked so out of his element, a beige hoodie and skinny jeans in a club full of scantily clad folk.

But he reverses the roles, grabbing Natsu by the fingers so delicately, he releases a soft hum of satisfaction. He rubs fingers between his own, feeling the brush of calloused fingertips on them. It reminds him of mom’s soft chest rising and falling when she slept beside him because he was her ‘perfect little angel’ and made him feel safe.

He misses it. Misses being safe. Misses being loved.

“Okay,” the boy mumbles, peering from under his natural hood of hair with a light smile. “Okay. Let’s dance.”

Natsu doesn’t really know what he’s doing anymore. The lights blink and they’re suddenly in stop motion. It tricks his brain into thinking of them as pictures trapped some place in his brain forever. So he stares and stares and captures the blush spreading like wildfire across the boy’s face, a smile widening in tandem with the soft beats.

They’re two faces among a thousand on a random winter night. The music isn’t his type nor is his attire anything to be proud of. But this boy. Holy heavens, if he isn’t the prettiest thing ever then the stars should be ashamed because damn, he’d beat them even on a bad day.

His hair sways—a steady swing of left right left right and a pleasant smile sits snug on his features like that’s where they belonged, that’s where they had always belonged and Natsu closes his eyes when their hands meet again.

This is perfect.

It’s when the music stills that they transition to a slower lull of movement, and the blaze of liquor in his blood emboldens him into yanking the boy a little closer. He lets him fall with a small plop on his chest and laughs when he rubs his nose, scowling.

“Why do you never wait back?” He asks, exhaling at the warmth the boy’s presence brings. Natsu puts his hand around his waist and he swears, it was like he wasn’t human, like someone had sculpted him out of clay, moulded to near perfection. And maybe he’s treading into dangerous waters, but his mouth had a mind of its own and there’s nothing he could do to stop it.

“I always look for you after I’m done but you’re never here.”

Pair of hazelnut eyes sheepishly peer at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just.… not good at socializing.”

“So you say,” Natsu laughs, “But you’re doing better than me.”

“No way!”

“Yes way.”

“You have to be kidding me you’re so cool—and and so beautiful I really cannot—since the beginning I haven’t been able to take my eyes off—”

He squeaks when he's dragged closer by the small of his back. Their eyes meet. Natsu sees flashes of every happy moment of his life mirrored in them; His first recital, mom’s naturally loud laugh, the first time he played the guitar. They reach into Natsu’s soul and drag out his joy like the reel of a kite.

“I thought you were an angel,” he chuckles so close, he feels the boy shiver against his cheek. “I still do. Everyone here calls you Angel boy. Score a drink from them with that name sometime. I’m sure they’ll oblige you.”

“Angel? I—” He breathes a giggle, twisting silver strands with his fingers. “If there’s any angel here, it’s you.”

But this is fake, he wants to say. It’s fake, artificial, made of desperation because he never wants to look into the mirror and see his father’s face staring back at him. He won’t be him. He won’t.

“Atsumu,” he says. “My name is Atsumu.”

“Atsumu.” Natsu repeats in his head till it rolls naturally over his tongue. Like Atsu meaning heat and summer and everything bright and cheery.

Natsu purposefully lingers near his ear, to breathe his name in the air, smiling, content.

“ ‘Tsumu. It’s cute,” he hums. “You’re cute.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Definitely.” He chuckles.

Atsumu whispers, low and uneasy. “C-can I ask you something?”

“Mhmm.” At this point, his voice gave him a greater high than the drink he had downed fifteen minutes ago. Or was it an hour? He couldn’t really tell and decided very quickly he didn’t care, anyway.

“Why don’t you.. come to school?”

Natsu’s eyes open a crack to glimpse at the boy who trembles softly under him, as if he were admitting to a crime.

“I—” he continues in alarm, “I swear I’m not a stalker I just—Oh my god please don’t misunderstand me—”

“Calm down.” Natsu shushes, smiling apologetically at the few people around him that had been torn out of their aggressive make-out session as if they weren’t the ones that needed a room. God, if he sees another dick hanging out, he’ll have to bust out the chainsaw in the basement and go wild.

“So,” he leads them to a quieter corner with very few people and lesser eyes their way. “School,” he waves a hand dismissively, “It’s boring. Lots of people. Annoying questions. You know the drill.”

“Right,” he gulps. “Right so, I’m uhh—in your class I don’t think you noticed and I’m from an instrument club and someone asked us a question. Something about erotic sounds—wait that sounds bad—not erotic erotic but.…Ah, I’m bad at explaining.”

Natsu doesn’t keep back the dreamy giggle that leaves him, swaying lightly to the music. He’s exactly as he imagined—hell, even his name was spot on—all warm and giggly and fluttery.

“I’m still listening,” Natsu smiles. “Go on.”

Atsumu scrunches his nose and continues. “So one of my club seniors—he comes of a little rough but he’s really nice—went to one of my other seniors house who I think he really likes, and her mother told him it’s—I’m sorry am I too confusing?”

“I think I can manage.”

“Okay, so basically, her mother says it’s the pause in between his words and actions. The space that is just…there. And so I was writing about it—because I write everything—and Oka-kun saw my book.”

Natsu scowls. “Oka is annoying like that.”

The boy giggles this time. “Funny. He said you’d say that.”

“It’d be nice if he attempted to change it, then.”

“And so he told me you play music, where you work and that maybe you could do something good for once—I didn’t say that he did—So…” He moves his hand vaguely around them. “Here I am.”

Natsu hums against his head, bringing him to a slower pace as the song changes.

“I’ll have to thank him for that.”

“You’re not..angry?” He says through furrowed brows. “Oka-kun said you would be if you found out.”

He’s certain if Oka showed up here uninvited, Natsu would promptly kick him out. Because Oka is annoying. Atsumu however….

“So? Did you get your answer?” He asks instead.

The smaller boy makes a face, pulling all his features in to make his button nose stand out more than it already does and pout.

Natsu laughs. He’s been doing a lot of that today. Laughing.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Don’t get me wrong! Your performances are splendid and I really can’t get enough of them but the answer…I still haven’t reached a conclusion.”

Natsu plays with the fingers in his hand, shuffling to let them sink into the gap between his. Atsumu stares and responds by shyly tucking his fingers in.

“Want me to help you?” He whispers, tapping the side of Atsumu’s waist with his other hand.

“Can you?” He whispers back.

Can he? Yes. Should he? Probably not.

But what use is logic anyway, when a boy the embodiment of a sunny summer day amid a bitter winter stood enclosed in his arms?

Yeah. To hell with logic.

Natsu sways his hips, raking his free hand through Atsumu’s hair. He releases a pleased sigh when the tiny fingers between his tighten as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality, which was good. Natsu felt the same, like his sanity was slowly slipping through open fingers.

“Spaces…exist everywhere. In words, in voices, in time…” He draws their joined hands to his mouth, dragging wet lips over porcelain skin. Atsumu shudders, breathing in sharp, shallow exhales.

“These hands..there’s a space in between them too if you look carefully. We’re so close,” fingers tighten around his shirt. “But still never close enough.

He runs a palm down the boy’s face that angles and angles till plush, red lips are within kissing distance. They part and blow warm clouds of air that taste mint and chocolate in his mouth. Natsu smiles. “Space is where there is distance. Space is where there is intimacy. Space is where there is friction. And this exciting gap that keeps us wanting to be closer till not even an atom could squeeze in—” he leans in closer, “—is erotic.”

He backs away while he has the physical capacity to do so, before the alcohol overrides every decision in his head and they end up a tangled mess of limbs in some random hotel room, but Atsumu having none of it.

He pulls Natsu to himself, clutching the pleats of his shirt and tugging him down to his lips. Teeth knock loudly against each other and Natsu hisses lightly, parting to lick the tingle in the tip of his incisor away.

“S-sorry!” Atsumu covers his embarrassment behind shaky hands. Natsu wraps thin fingers under his chin, reeling him in slow and steady and closes the distance. It’s soft, like a snowflake on a tree, virgin snow settling on frozen water and ironically, melts him. It boils and freezes, ignites his soul into a firework of bursting flames. He’s touching, feeling, pulling until every inhale feels like fire in his lungs.

“Closer,” Atsumu murmurs, throwing nimble hands over his shoulder and locking their lips together like puzzle pieces on a gameboard. “Make the space go away.”

It’s chaotic, and it’s magical. Like every star in the galaxy twinkled around them tonight, like every blossoming flower settled wherever Atsumu touched him. He’s drunk on vodka, drunk on happiness, drunk on love.

Closer. Natsu pushes a knee in between his thighs. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan, eyes slowly rolling into the back of his head.

Closer. The hands in his air pull him in for another searing kiss, pressing for entry, to delve deeper, deeper into themselves. Atsumu nibbles lightly on his lip and Natsu lets him bruise him for tonight. To wreck him, destroy him.

Closer.

They settle for a slower casual rhythm when they part to breathe. He keeps them moving on the floor, smiling against a pair of swollen lips.

“School suddenly sounds much more interesting.” He says.

Atsumu squints incredulously. “We can’t do this at school.”

“No?”

“No!”

Natsu shrugs, pecking the tip of the boy’s nose. “Shame.”

“Then you’ll come?” Atsumu bumps his forehead against Natsu’s. “I’ll really see you tomorrow?”

“If you can walk home straight after tonight, then sure.”

Atsumu gasps and slaps him across the back, blushing as they leave the club, hand in hand, away into the wintery night.

Natsu turns sixteen—a little drunk, a lot happy—but he’s sixteen and he can pinpoint this as the day he falls in love even years later.

And every other birthday is insignificant but so much better, spent at home, in the arms of the boy that saved him in just one night, all those years ago.

Mom only ever asks where he’s going and who he’s moving in with while he packs his bags to leave. She frowns when he answers with the widest smile on his face, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“An Angel.”

Ignore the sloppy writing haha. I'm writing this while travelling back home after a god awful six hour exam.

It felt too plotless to post on my ao3 kdkcd—

If you look at the colouring of Natsu I based it on (go give @sasukeslove all the real love), I imagine the art as the morning after when Oka's annoying Natsu and Atsumu walks in through the door (≧▽≦)

#kono oto tomare!#kotedit #kot #ao3 #dailykot #fanfic #kono oto #ficlet #momoyoshi #momoya natsu #atsumu yoshinaga #Spotify

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