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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

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As Our Fingers Entwine

The end of the trilogy!!! I hope you all enjoy, both newcomers and those who have been eagerly anticipating this piece! It is in fact NSFW, appropriate tags below. Read it on AO3 here!

TRIGUN STAMPEDE EPISODE 7 SPOILERS IN FIC BELOW!

Vash/Reader, 6,000+ Words, AFAB Reader but no specific pronouns used, mutual pining, body worship, frottage, vaginal sex, alien biology, praise kink, enthusiastic consent, begging

You couldn't say for certain why the ambience of the peaceful town didn't lull you to sleep the same way the rattling underbelly of the Sand Steamer seemed to, but you had a distinct feeling it was because you weren't right next to Vash.

You'd never admit it aloud, mainly for fear of revealing your painfully obvious affections for your blond companion, but nowadays you always slept better with Vash by your side. And as happy as Vash seemed to have a room to himself and time to catch his breath, a selfish little part of you had hoped he'd be cheap again, crowd the two of you into a single room to save a few double dollars. The last time you truly got to sleep side-by-side with him was a few bumpy hours on the Sand Steamer, before the incident with the Bad Lads and the shootout and the, well, the entire steamer nearly catastrophically crashing to pieces. There wasn't much sleeping on the bus ride into town either, no matter how exhausted the both of you were.

And yet, when you collapsed face-first into the surprisingly comfy hotel bed, you found yourself agonizingly conscious. Somehow, a simple wall in between you and Vash was enough to keep you from getting a good night's sleep. Just when did you become so dependent? Now three nights have passed, each one spent tossing and turning, unable to get more than a few blissful moments of shuteye. It wasn't like you were scared, or even stressed! Your body had just acclimated to the idea of sleeping curled up next to Vash, and now without him…

"Hey, anybody home in there?"

"...Hmm? Oh! Oh, yeah, I'm listening." You hadn't realized you'd started to doze off at the diner table over your supper until Vash leaned over and snapped his fingers in front of your face. You jolted up, grabbing a wedge of your sandwich and jamming it quickly into your mouth as he gave you a soft and sympathetic smile, his salmon sandwich basically finished and his free hand twiddling a stray french fry back and forth across the plate. Ah, he must have been waiting for you.

"You're a little out of it today. Everything alright?"

You waved him off, taking a swig of water to force down the mouthful of bread and various fillings. "It's fine! Just not sleeping well, it's no big deal."

Your response didn't seem to soothe Vash's worries at all, as his little smile fell into a frown. "That's no good. Is everything alright? You don't feel unsafe or anything, do you?"

"Nonono, nothing like that, really!" His concern really shouldn't have been enough to fluster you, Vash would have been worried for just about anyone who looked as worn-out as you did. But it still hit a soft little spot in you, something eternally sensitive to Vash's care and attention that you had to do your absolute best to stifle basically every moment of every day. "It's just too quiet, you know? I'm not used to having a room to myself anymore, heh. Pretty silly, isn't it?"

Judging by the soft and further furrowing of Vash's brow, your placations did nothing to assuage his concern. "Is there anything I can do? To help, I mean."

Stay. Stay with me, always.

Yeah, right. Like you could actually say that out loud. You sunk further into your seat, feeling a bit like an insect under a magnifying glass in the face of his consideration. It felt as if one wrong word or move would suddenly and jarringly expose the affections you held for him that seemed so glaringly obvious at all times, always.

"I dunno. It's not a big deal, anyway. We don't have to worry about it."

He seemed to sense your own discomfort with the subject matter, and leaned gently back in his seat. "I saw there was a tailor in this town! If you want you can come with me tomorrow, maybe get that tear in your cloak patched up?"

You thumbed the rugged fabric edge in your hand, almost not wanting to. Vash had patched it for you last time, and though the job was a touch on the rough side you didn't exactly like the idea of someone undoing his heartfelt, albeit clumsy, stitchwork. But shopping with Vash? That definitely sounded like how you wanted to spend your afternoon.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Anywhere you wanna stop by?"

"Might pick up some ammo, but not much besides that!"

And you were certain that would be the end of it. Even after thumbing out a few double-dollars to pay for dinner, opening the diner door for you with a cartoonish bow, and chatting idly as the two of you made your way back towards the hotel, Vash didn’t broach the subject again. By the time you’d made it to the door of your room you were certain he’d forgotten about it. But just as you were about to wish him goodnight and slip through the crack of the doorway his hand came to rest upon the door handle, that familiar soft expression of concern sneaking back up across his face.

“If you wanted… I could stay until you fall asleep?" There was a distinct shyness about it, like he was genuinely afraid of what your reaction may be. "Just to see if it would help?"

You blinked at him once, twice, needing a moment to process the words he was saying before it actually clicked in your mind. Face growing hot, you prayed your expression didn't fully give away your embarrassment as an image wormed itself into your brain, an image of yourself in Vash's arms, his lips resting on the jut of your collarbone peeking from the hem of your shirt, of warm hands on the soft dip of your hips climbing higher, and higher…

Seeming to take your extended silence as rejection, or worse, disgust, Vash began to frantically backpedal, hand flying from the doorknob to tangle in the soft hair at the base of his neck. "You can say no! I just wanted to offer. Maybe that was a little weird, huh? Sorry, you can forget about it.”

But you didn't want to forget. Forgetting meant a return to… To whatever you and Vash were before that first night you woke up and saw him gazing at the stars. Forgetting meant pulling away again, faking a smile, pretending there was nothing there when you so desperately wanted there to be. Forgetting meant not acknowledging that he kept offering his hand to you, and that out of your own foolish anxieties you kept drawing away.

And yeah, maybe things could still go catastrophically wrong. But wasn't that what you loved about Vash in the first place? How the entire world could fall apart around him and he'd still get up again, offer you a smile and put his best foot forward?

You loved him. You loved him. And you were fucking sick of pretending you didn't. Your fingertips had closed around the fabric of his sleeve before you could second-guess yourself.

"Stay with me."

And oh, oh, if the expression that crawled its way up Vash's face wasn't worth any and every possible humiliation, rejection, or vague discomfort. Red bloomed up from his collar, creeping up his neck into his cheeks and the tops of his ears. He blinked twice behind his oversized lenses, gaze flicking from your face to where you'd gripped his sleeve and back again a few times over. A thin, wobbly smile snuck across his lips, making his relief obvious despite his conscious efforts to hide it. A peek of sharp canines glinted from the gap as he shot you a crooked, sheepish grin, despite being nearly as red in the face as his signature coat.

"Y-Yeah!" He winced at the way his own voice cracked, oblivious to just how endearing you found it. "Yeah, heh, no problem! Let me, let me get my… I'll be right back. Five minutes? Give me five minutes, pinkie promise."

He even interlocked his pinkie with your own, a small, familiar laugh sneaking out before he slipped, momentarily, from your grasp. You watched as he stumbled down the hall to his own room, fumbled the door handle once, twice, banging his body into the wooden frame before managing to get it open, never once taking his eyes off you until the door slipped closed. Cute.

You stepped into your own room, clicking on the bedside lamp and flooding it in a warm, yellowed glow. Shedding your day clothes as quickly as possible, you kicked them into a heap in the corner and scrambled into your pajamas, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Without Vash's buzzing, eager energy at your side you had just enough time before he returned to briefly feel incredibly embarrassed at your show of need, face growing hot as you replayed the little scene over and over in your mind. Your hand around his sleeve, his expressions, your choice of words… God, you were so obvious. Had he really not picked up on it at all? But he seemed so eager, as eager as you were at the very least. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had been a little oblivious lately.

True to his word, it couldn't have been more than five minutes before you heard a soft knock on the door to your room. Standing on the other side was Vash, not clad in his signature red jacket but rather his familiar, beige pajamas. The worn out shirt hung loose around the collar with the sleeves draping just long enough to cover half of his hands, the loose elastic of the sweatpants held tight with an old, white drawstring. His hair was floppy and now shower-damp, hanging partially in his face as he gave you that so soft, so sweet little smile.

"You look comfy." He said, voice as soft as his grin.

"I could say the same for you." You responded, cracking a similar smile. Stepping to the side you let him join you in your room, door closing with a soft click as a palpable air of… something simmered between you two. Tension? Nervousness? It felt like a melting pot of just about everything you had or could feel when it came to Vash. He stood awkwardly in the center of the room as you flitted around him towards the bed.

"You should probably get some rest, huh? I'll just grab a seat at…" He gestured vaguely towards one of the two chairs set at the table by the window, words dropping from his lips as he watched you pat the open space in the bed next to you. He blinked again, face flushing pink once more.

"...Only if you want to." You added softly. He visibly swallowed, nodding so gently you could have almost missed it, and set his glasses on the nightstand with a soft clack. Carefully, hesitantly, he pulled back the covers and let himself into the bed beside you, moving like he was afraid at any moment you were going to change your mind and ask him to leave.

You would never. You wanted him beside you. At all times, always.

He clicked off the lamp, and the two of you were plunged into darkness. A single stream of moonlight filtered between the thin curtains, falling diagonally across the bedroom floor and providing just enough light for you to keep Vash's face in view. When the two of you shared a sleeping bag for the first time the closeness was a necessity, there was nowhere else for you to go in the tiny shared space. But even now, with the width of the bed slim but still far greater than a sleeping bag could provide, you couldn't help but press yourself close to him. As always he was warm, so warm, heat radiating under the thin covers to soothe you, a constant thrum of energy just beneath his skin even when he was relaxed and doe-eyed as he was with you right now, laying on his side mirroring you, unable to look away.

In this moment you couldn't help but consider that Vash was more alive than you had ever been in your own lifetime, or that you ever would be. He was a walking enigma, incredibly powerful yet so gentle, capable of such inhuman feats but so intimately, painfully fragile. Maybe you'd never fully understand him the way you wanted to, maybe there would always be secrets he couldn't share or stories he wouldn't tell. But you didn't mind, not as long as he was yours and you were his.

"Hi." He murmured, breath hot against your lips, that small, sappy smile never leaving his own.

"Hi." You replied. "Is this… Is this okay?"

"Yes." There was a relief in his voice, a borderline reverence. His hand hovered, briefly, coming to rest on the small of your hip and sending a jolt of need crawling up your spine fast enough to give you a headrush. "Are we… okay?"

"Always."

He let out a low, shuddering breath, hand flexing around your hip. "I haven't… I want… I want…" His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. He let out another breath, a short, warm huff as he hesitated, brow knit like even now he was afraid of the oncoming rejection, the inevitable hurt.

The two of you really had been completely oblivious, hadn't you?

You closed the gap yourself. Slowly, carefully, for no more than a few moments, you pressed your lips to his. He gasped when you did, a sharp, surprised inhale through his nose before his entire body seemed to melt into your several points of contact: your legs, his hand on your hip, your lips. You watched his eyes slide open again after you pulled away, crease in his brow receding as he blinked at you, almost owlishly.

"You kissed me." He murmured, that air of reverence returning to his voice.

"I did." You said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, and that's because it was.

"You'll… You'll always be in danger. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"We're always going to be moving. You wouldn't rather settle down somewhere nice?"

"Not if you're not there."

He sucked in another shaky breath, corners of his eyes growing glassy and wet. "It won't… It won't be easy. Being with me. It's hard."

"Vash." You cupped his face with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I promise you it's not. It's really not."

He positively beamed, knocking his forehead against yours as he burst into quiet giggles. "You're really amazing, you know? You're the most amazing person I've ever met."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Your own laughter joined his, and any hint of apprehension or concern Vash may have still held seemed to melt away in the face of your smile. "Now shush. Kiss me again."

He was clumsy, clearly overeager as he pressed his lips to yours once more. It started as another soft, fluttering thing, then a second, then a third, before you tipped your chin up and opened your mouth into the next kiss, inviting him to do the same. Fingers tangled in his soft hair, you pressed further into him, tasting honey and sunlight as you licked into his open mouth and he moaned against your lips. You didn't even realize he was moving you until you found yourself on your back, Vash's sturdy build boxing you in, knees framing your thighs as his teeth clicked wetly against yours and he groaned again at the feeling of your mouth moving against his. It was a messy, relief-stricken thing, like finding sweet, cool water after a day trekking across the open dunes. His still-flesh hand gripped your hip, fingertips indenting your soft skin, but his prosthetic hand cradled your cheek so gently, with such veneration it could have brought you to tears. There was a wet smack and a sharp gasp when he finally pulled away, like he was coming up for air. A single sticky strand of saliva still connected your lips, and as you swiped it off of his lower lip with a smile he gave you a sheepish grin in return.

"You gotta breathe through your nose, Vash."

"I know, I just…" He watches as you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking off the smear of spit there. He gulps, teeth worrying his lower lip. "...Just got a bit sidetracked, is all."

When he leaned back in a second time his target wasn't your lips, but the gentle slope of your neck. He placed a featherlight kiss upon you, relaxing when he heard your content hum and your fingers carded through the hairs at the base of his neck. Then he sucked a mark into the soft junction between your neck and exposed collarbone, teeth grazing and tongue lathing over the sensitive spot as you writhed beneath Vash's touch. His breath ghosted hotly over your neck, goosebumps prickling out across your skin as heat pooled low and eager in your stomach and you fisted one hand in the front of Vash's night shirt.

"Vash." You whined, and his low groan in response rumbled out against your already sensitive neck. "Vash." You moaned again, louder this time, needy but not completely sure what for.

"Hmm?" His questioning hum was barely discernible from his soft, pleased groans, only the uptick at the end of the throaty sound cluing you in that Vash had even heard you at all. His lips rested on the curve of your jaw, thumb trailing back and forth across your cheekbone. You fisted the back of his shirt in one hand and tangled the other in his messy hair, whimpering at each barely-there kiss he left as he trailed his way up your jawbone to your ear. "You're so soft. So, so soft."

His lips brushed the shell of your ear and you couldn't help yourself, whining as your hips jerked up against his. His breath stuttered and he jolted back from you to blink with wide, shocked eyes. Immediately a hot flush of shame coursed through your body, searing behind your eyes and cheeks. Was he disappointed? Disgusted?

"I'm so sorry." If you could shrink back and disappear you would, but it's not like there was anywhere for you to go. Vash's brow furrowed again for a moment before his eyes blew wide once more, immediately taking your face in both hands as gently as he could.

"No, no it's alright! There's nothing wrong you just- just surprised me a little! That's not bad! I just- Aw jeez." He pressed a kiss to your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. "Please don't cry. I promise I'm not upset or anything, so don't cry, okay?"

"I'm not gonna cry! I'm just… embarrassed." You mumbled between squished cheeks, eyes trained down and away from Vash's sympathetic smile.

“There’s no need to be.”

“I know that.” You whined, covering your eyes with the palm of your hand. You felt another fluttering kiss on the tip of your nose, and peeked through your fingers to find Vash beaming at you. There was a cautious apprehension behind his eyes now though, a similar fear to what you knew you were currently feeling.

“There is, uh, something I have to tell you though.” He fidgeted a little, not quite meeting your gaze. “It’s just that my body is kinda… Well, it’s a little… different? And I don’t want to freak you out or anything. But if you do freak out… That’s probably completely valid, I’ll be honest.”

“Vash, I’ve seen your scars before. You know I don’t mind, right?”

He winced a little, lower lip jutting out in a bit of a pout. “...That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s a… It’s a PLANT thing.”

“Oh.” As Vash sat back on your thighs you propped yourself up a bit to meet his gaze. “Well, that’s alright too. I won’t judge you for anything you can’t control, Vash.”

“Yeah but it’s… It’s pretty out there.”

“Try me.”

Vash opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it, then shut it again, blush crawling its way up his cheeks with his fisted hands tucked into his lap. He twiddled his thumbs, worried his lower lip with his sharp teeth, and still failed to meet your gaze.

"It's, uh, it's just that it's a bit… different. My, uh… y'know?"

You'd been pretty oblivious to Vash's affections for you, but that didn't mean you were stupid. The way his gaze flickered down and then back up again when he spoke? The way one hand fisted the fabric of his pants and the other remained firmly tucked between his thighs, not quite against his crotch but definitely blocking it from your view? You could at least put those puzzle pieces together.

You rubbed the top of his knee with your hand, and tension seemed to melt from his stance with your touch alone.

"Would you… be willing to show me?"

He grimaced a bit, continuing to nibble on his lower lip until you ran the thumb of your other hand across it, trying to soothe the reddened skin. "I just don't want to freak you out or anything, is all."

"You really think at this point there's anything you could do or say to freak me out?" You bumped your forehead against his, the same way he had for you just moments ago. "Hate to break it to you, but you're kind of stuck with me now." He barked out a laugh, saying nothing but finally meeting your gaze, so you continued. "I don't want you to feel like you have to make yourself uncomfortable for my sake, but I also don't want you to run away from me. You trust me, right?"

"I do."

"Then trust that I won't run away either. I promise. I just want you, Vash, that's all."

He sucked in a shuddering breath, nodding softly against you. "Yeah. I want you too." Looking up at you through his eyelashes, he flashed you a cartoonish pout. "Maybe if someone gave me another kiss I'd get a bit braver?"

"You dork." You giggled, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him breathless once more. He leaned into you again, mouth open and eager, finally letting his hands trail back up your body where you'd wanted them. "Wait, switch with me."

"Hrmm? Whoa!" You wrestled Vash to the side, rolling the two of you over until you were now the one straddling his hips, not the other way around. He blinked up at you, mouth agape and lips slightly slick as he took in your form in the pale moonlight. "Oh. I could get used to a view like this."

With a single, sudden twist upwards of your arms, you pulled off your shirt and let it fall somewhere off the side of the bed, baring your chest to him fully. Vash gasped, hands squeezing against your soft sides as his gaze raked over your form.

"This one too…" He murmured. Trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest, you fiddled with the hem at the bottom of his shirt, lifting a bit but not quite tugging.

"This okay?"

He nodded, hands joining yours to help wrestle his shirt off over his head. Immediately you were upon him, a featherlight trail of lips and fingertips upon every inch of scarred skin, tracing the outline of the metal reinforcement over his left pectoral as gently as you could. Your thighs squeezed around his hips, the front of his loose pajama pants tented and straining where they met your clothed core. He was big, that much was obvious. Another roll of your hips, not accidental this time but intentional, left Vash gasping out a sharp, labored wheeze as his hips finally jerked forward against yours.

"Sensitive." He panted, shuddering helplessly as his hips stuttered forward again. "C-Careful, it's sensitive."

That sensitive, with several layers of clothes still between you? Now you were getting really curious. You rolled your hips again, friction sparking pleasure up your spine but it was nothing compared to the way Vash positively mewled, back arching and hips rutting erratically to meet you. A dark, damp spot was beginning to seep through the fabric at the tip. You cupped his clothed length with your hand as gently as you could. 'Sensitive.' You reminded yourself. But a bolt of surprise rocketed through you instead when you could swear that, just for a moment, you felt his cock squirm against you, pressing up into your hand without the aid of his hips.

"Please don't freak out." Vash wheezed. You squeezed his length again, pressing in firmly, but it was impossible to tell what writhing was from Vash squirming around and what came from, well, Vash squirming around.

"I'm not freaking out." You reassured him, and in all honesty you weren't. Were you surprised? Of course! But there wasn't really anything about Vash that could truly "freak you out" anymore, even this. You stroked his length through the fabric once more and watched that wet spot at the tip bloom farther and darker, Vash shivering like he'd just touched a live wire. "Is it okay to take these off? Only if you're okay with it."

You hooked a finger into the waistband and waited, Vash's gaze laser focused in on your hand. Slowly, carefully, he nodded. Fingers looped in the elastic of both his pajama pants and his boxers, you gave him plenty of time to change his mind as you tugged them down, Vash letting out a quiet, hitched gasp when his cock sprung free.

Well, Vash certainly wasn't lying about it being different. Arching upwards from between his legs was what you could only describe as a tentacle, thick base sprouting from slick folds at the apex of his thighs. It curled upwards towards his belly and tapered slim at the tip, beading semi-translucent liquid that dribbled down the length of the shaft. It wasn't the same shade as his skin; It was closer to a bluish-white, marked up the length with abstract patterning similar to the glyphs on the outside bulb of a PLANT. Vaguely you wondered if it was always out like this, or if it settled itself snugly within those wet, petal pink folds when he wasn't aroused. You had to think it did, if Vash was as sensitive as he made himself out to be, otherwise he'd be on the verge of cumming with each step he took.

On second thought, that wasn't a bad image either.

Vash gulped, squirming a bit under your gaze, knees pulling together but unable to close fully with your body in the way. "So, uh, you're not screaming. I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a good sign!" You smoothed a hand up the length of his thigh, pausing right at the junction of his hip, and his cock twitched towards you subconsciously like a writhing tendril. He seemed to shrink in on himself a little at this, shoulders pulling up towards his ears as he anticipated your reaction.

"Vash, God Vash… Do you even have any idea how pretty you are?" He had to know, you couldn't let him wake up tomorrow and just bumble around for the rest of his life not knowing. He was ethereal, scarred skin painted in hues of blush pink, cheeks burning, eyes soft and wide… He had to be a PLANT, because it just wasn't feasible for a normal human to be this achingly beautiful. "You're so, so pretty Vash."

"Oh." His breathing shuddered, hips twitching when you squeezed down on the fat of his thigh.

"Sensitive, right? I'll be careful, just tell me if it's too much, okay?" Fingertips trailing off the junction of his hip, you finally, finally, closed your palm around his length. It was hot, slick to the touch everywhere you put your fingers on it, and you could swear for just a moment that those glyphs pulsed with a faint blue-white light as Vash whimpered. "This is okay?"

He nodded furiously, hands fisting the bed sheets as he all but gasped for air. "Good! It's good. I haven't, it's been a long time since I- ohhh please…" Another bead of thick, slippery pre-cum drooled from the tip, slicking your palm as you moved it so slowly up the length of his cock, squeezing slightly on the downstroke and making Vash's back go concave against the mattress as he moaned. Heat burned low in your core, and you wrestled a hand down the front of your pajama pants to stroke your own slick folds directly. You couldn't help but picture how the silky writhing of his cock would feel inside of your pussy, slick oozing around where your bodies would meet as it pushed upwards into your aching core…

"Me too…" Vash groaned, hand grabbing for the waistband of your pants as he struggled to sit up. "Lemme touch you too, please." You stumbled off the bed for only a moment, but it was still far enough to make Vash whine at your lack of contact. Slick from Vash's cock smeared across the fabric as you wrestled both the pants and your underwear onto the floor before crawling back into Vash's lap like you couldn't stand to be away from him for another moment. His hands found your hips the moment you were within reach, rubbing soothingly up and down the outer curve of your thighs as he stared down at you, eyes swirling with arousal and adoration.

"Beautiful." He murmured, pressing his lips once more against the curve of your neck. "Tell me what you like, tell me how I can make you feel good."

Hand around his wrist, you guided him to the dark patch of hair between your legs. His fingers crooked carefully, curiously, two fingertips swiping upwards through your wet folds and catching over your clit. He shuddered when you moaned, the very act of giving you pleasure seeming to do him the same. Finding your clit again, he rubbed over it with his fingertips in slow, almost soothing circles.

"That's good." You cooed, taking him in hand again. "You're so good for me, Vash, such a good boy."

"Yes!" He moaned, his metal hand coming around to grip your ass, urging you to roll your hips against his hand. "Yes, 'm good, I'm so good." Sharp teeth dragged over your collarbone, just hard enough to send a prickle of pleasure up your spine. As you began to rock your hips he pressed his hand further in, letting you grind your clit against the heel of his palm as he slid his middle finger into your entrance. The intrusion was slick, effortless, and you couldn't help but moan as he curled his finger against your soft, hot walls. You pumped him again, another thick glob of pre-cum dribbling over your fingers as his cock wriggled in your grasp. "You feel so good inside." He continued to babble, drooling against your neck as he whined and gasped. "Wanna… wanna feel you, so bad…"

"Yeah?" You purred, shifting your hips further up his. With how keyed up you were you doubted you'd even be able to last more than a thrust or two with Vash inside you, but still you wanted. Nudging his hand out from between your legs, you shifted your hips down to trap his cock in between your pussy and his tense stomach as you rolled your hips and let it slip messily back and forth between your folds. Vash positively howled, head tossed back against the pillows as his other hand came around to grip your ass as well.

"Yes! Yes, please, oh please wanna make you feel so good." Shifting your hips to align his tip with your entrance, he peppered wet kisses across your neck and up your cheek as you hovered over him. You tipped your head to catch his lips with your own, moaning into his eager mouth as you finally let him nudge into you. Euphoria crackled up your spine with each small movement, an almost unbearable heat between the two of you as he shifted you so gently down his slick cock. It was almost effortless the way he slid inside, your combined wetness leaving no room for pain around the incredible pleasure as he stuffed you full, coiling and massaging your walls as you finally found your thighs resting on his and your lungs gasping for air.

"Oh, oh Vash." He shuddered at the sound of your name leaving his lips, hips snapping forward and once again driving the breath out of you as white-hot pleasure exploded behind your eyelids.

"Sorry, 'm sorry, not gonna last. Gotta make you cum, fuck, please cum for me…" His chest pressed to yours and his face pressed into the curve of your jaw, his hips thrust forward again, and again, wriggling one hand in between your sweaty bodies to thumb eagerly at your clit, rolling the swollen bud beneath the pad. You wailed, pleasure prickling tears at the corners of your eyes as your stomach coiled tighter, pushed you higher.

A sharp blossom of pain erupted from the crook of your neck, making you cry out as Vash growled against your skin. His sharp canines dug into your sensitive flesh, bruising the soft skin there and blooming pain and pleasure into a swirling cocktail of overwhelming sensation. You dug your nails hard into the flesh of his back, shivering helplessly in his grip. The desert had been cruel, and crueler still had been its people, but you would make sure that any marks you left on Vash would be ones he wasn't ashamed to show, to feel.

"Love you." You sobbed, bleary-eyed and desperate for release, babbling similar nonsense to Vash as you tumbled into pleasure-drunk ecstasy. "Love you, I love you I love you Vash!"

He wailed, teeth pressing further into your soft neck, hips stuttering forward once, twice more before he finally shuddered, pouring his load into your awaiting core. Molten heat flooded your pussy, sending you tumbling into your own release. Rapture flooded your senses, writhing in Vash's hold as waves of pleasure overtook you, walls fluttering helplessly around his length again, and again, and again. He was spilling so much into you, you could feel it pooling out around where the two of you were joined, slicking his thighs and inevitably staining the sheets below. Even as your own orgasm began to subside, little aftershocks of pleasure sparking in your mind, he was still spilling more into your fluttering heat.

"I love you." He sobbed into your neck, drool and tears dampening your skin as he clutched you tight, so tight. "Love you so much." His tongue lathed over the bruise his teeth had left behind, a silent apology for daring to leave a single mark upon your body. With a final, shaky thrust of his hips, he seemed to spill the last of his cum into you, muscles relaxing with a stifled groan. You curled a hand in the hair at the base of his neck, pressing a kiss to his temple as he nuzzled into you. He whined as his cock seemed to slip from your heat of its own accord, another gush of hot slick spilling from your entrance as it went limp.

"I've got you, baby." You cooed. Slumping gently into his lap and ignoring the sticky-slick feeling cooling between your bodies, you let yourself melt fully into Vash's gentle hold.

"...They're probably gonna charge you extra for cleaning, you know?" He quipped, and you could feel him grimace a little at the tacky feeling between your thighs. "A lot extra."

"I'll take my chances."

He guffawed against your neck, dragging you down to the mattress with him in a sticky heap. You curled into the curve of his body, head resting on his shoulder. His arm immediately rose to curl around you, pulling you tight against his side.

"Mmh, we should probably clean up." You mumbled, eyelids already beginning to flutter.

"...Five minutes?" He rumbled, pressing his nose into the crook of your jaw.

"Mmm… Five minutes."

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #trigun #my writing #long post #alien biology vash

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saerins · 3 months

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PREV: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS 𖧧 NEXT: #006 COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — the closer you get to itoshi sae, the closer you are to the part of it all that you’d rather skip: your mother, your problems, your baggage.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. tw: reader’s mom—calls her a whore. profanity, verbal abuse, switching povs, jealousy, unrequited love, making out. word count: 9.6k

༝༚༝༚ sorry for the absurdly long wait !!! as you know i was sick and out of it for the past week so this chapter was difficult to get out :( but anw it's here :) gimme a while more for those of you who asked for extras hehe but i hope you guys enjoy this for now !! mwah ily

“who? that guy that you’re always reported with?”

bianca sighs, her bad mood more than obvious to her manager, who’s been with her for three years now. considering she’s been there since her career started, bianca’s not surprised she can tell her moods from just a single look.

“yeah, he’s been… cold lately.”

at least, bianca seems to think so. sae hasn’t been this cold to her since they first got close. she’s biting on her lips, staring at their message thread, her messages going unresponded for a while now.

“bianca, you like him, right?”

her manager’s question goes unresponded, bianca’s lips tightly sealed. but that’s enough of an answer for her.

“why don’t you just tell him? who knows he might like you too? you two spend a lot of time together for two busy people.”

the words give her hope, but it’s not very many. bianca had hoped that after at least a year and more of getting to know each other that maybe sae would start to feel something, anything. it doesn’t look like it. he’s never once initiated hanging out with her, and no matter how many times she’s bugged him for something as simple as, for example, wearing his jerseys, he wouldn’t even budge.

what if people misunderstand, his lousy excuse. isn’t that just another way to say he doesn’t even want it?

“are you sure he’s not just busy?” her manager asks again upon her silence.

sure, that is the logical train of thought. sae’s one of the best midfielders the world has ever seen. not even counting that, he’s beautiful—a face and body that many brands would want to invest in, want help to sell their brand with. it’s entirely plausible that he has a packed schedule, and bianca would think that, if not for the fact that he’s been acting weird lately.

sae always plans his sleep—that’s why he refused her invitation to meet with her friends that night, isn’t it? he was tired and wanted to sleep, but he showed up the next day looking exhausted, more than bianca’s ever seen. apart from that, he even followed that mystery girl from that night; bianca recognises you from your profile picture.

who are you, exactly?

bianca finds herself scrolling through your profile—she already has your username memorised somehow. you don’t post much, and you don’t really post anything with anybody, just things like scenery from work travels and activities like baking, and you’re not tagged in much either, except for this one girl named sumi. still, all she’s able to gather from you is your name and that you work at a sports magazine.

is that all you want from sae? interviews and favours?

it better be.

“anyway,” bianca’s manager sighs as she prepares to go home for the day, having settled everything else regarding bianca’s schedule. “you have the whole week free after tomorrow, you should go to japan and surprise him if you want. maybe take some of that anxiety off,” she suggests, noting that bianca’s face will be perpetually pouting if she doesn’t get to the root of her questions.

on the couch, bianca sits up, the idea registering in her head, grinning from ear to ear. “you’re right,” she agrees, immediately making arrangements to fly to tokyo. “i’ll do just that.”

she’ll go to tokyo, she’ll talk to sae and try to wring it out of him. if it really is nothing, then great, but bianca’s already planning her next course of action if it isn’t.

bianca doesn’t know who you are just yet, but one thing she wants you to get clear in your head: sae is hers and hers alone.

maybe not now, but one day she’ll make it happen. and until then, she doesn’t want anyone to cut in.

you blink and stare in shock as you see the heart on your screen. it must be accidental. has to be. sae doesn’t look like the type to send hearts. you shake it off, bringing yourself back down to earth.

it’s the next day after your drinking session with otoya and the others. your mind’s pretty hazy; you don’t really remember much especially on the later half of the night—you only remember taking a leap of faith and dragging sae into seven minutes of heaven with you. you’re sure you did nothing at all, except talk, but even what you talked about is pretty foggy. what you do remember is that he said he isn’t involved with anyone. you smile just thinking of it.

maybe it’s stupid, possibly falling head over heels for someone like sae who has many more admirers than you can imagine, but you can’t stop yourself from seeing the signs that he’s sending you.

just his texts are proof alone—you know he’s not someone who wastes his time on people he doesn’t see in his future. and you want to think that he’s not treating you like this over something as simple as pure friendship. but you don’t want to get your hopes up. you don’t think you’ll actually believe it until he tells you himself.

after all, there’s still the whole thing with bianca. even if he says he’s not involved with anyone, with the way all the other guys talk about her and sae, you can’t help but feel there’s something more there. but maybe that’s not something you have to concern yourself with for now.

yeah, because right now, there’s an even bigger monster that stands on the other side of your door, pounding on it like the world will end if you don’t answer her. her shrill voice is enough to give you headaches that could last a year, and her demands—even worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, if you don’t open this damn door before they get here i’m gonna kill you myself!”

four minutes now that you’ve been ignoring her. she hasn’t stopped to take a breath. it must be really urgent. she must’ve screwed up really bad. again. you’re pretty tired of it. you wish you’d given up on her already. sometimes.

there’s a stack of cash in your hands that you’re fiddling with. your hard-earned money. yours to supposedly spend as you please. supposedly. but what’s yours hasn’t been completely yours for a while now.

begrudgingly, you yank the door open, your eyes just short of a speck of anger—your mother’s wide eyes are much worse, not a speck of affection for her own daughter. you wonder why your own flesh and blood looks at you like that. you remember how kind sae’s eyes are; why can someone like him look at you like that while your own mother looks like… this?

“here. payment for this month, like i said,” you huff, nearly earning yourself a slap across the face again, except your mother’s holding it in. probably for a more appropriate time.

“not enough. need a bit more.”

you squint your eyes at her in disbelief. “you borrowed even more? we can barely afford—”

“then make yourself of use like your father was!” she cuts in, the disdain in her voice clear, like the day used to be. “really, all you need to do is not be a bitch by talking back and you can’t even do that. i should’ve aborted you when i got the chance.”

she spits those words out as if there was never a day that she loved you. she says them as if she was forced to have you. she storms off as if she has any right to demand you for anything.

you shouldn’t be abiding by them, but you can’t help it. the old picture of you and your parents when you were ten sits sourly at the edge of your study table, their once perfect smiles all smeared by recent memories, fading away as if they were just a fever dream.

“mom and dad will always love you, okay?”

is it a crime to want that loving woman back?

eita would be a good person to talk to about all this, given he knows a fair amount, but he doesn’t know how truly bad your mother’s gotten, and you’re not sure you want him to. you’ve burdened him enough, making him constantly worry about you even when he’s busy, and you’re not sure how much of it you can take from him without starting to feel guilty all over again.

and a part of you wants to warn sae that if he doesn’t want anything bad staining his reputation that he should stay away from you. but there’s the dominant part of you that wants to pursue what you want, without guilt or having to think about others, that wants to give yourself a chance at what makes you happy.

your mother has a tendency of taking them all away though. it wouldn’t be the first time.

for the first time, you find yourself wanting to count on someone other than eita, and for entirely different reasons. you’re texting the person who makes your heart beat faster without a second thought.

your fingers hover hesitantly over the send button. your mind plays the memories with shiro all over again. he used to give you the same feelings sae did. he used to make you think he was all green flags and clear skies and it’s eerily similar to what you feel now.

can you really trust yourself with this?

clumsily, your thumb deletes everything, putting in its place a lame excuse—i’m just feeling the monday blues kicking in early, save me.

maybe one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him about it. yeah, one day.

“why haven’t you told him yet?” eita asks you the next day, when you’ve given up holding strong in your house and decided to defect to his.

you’re out on his balcony, leaning against the back of the chair, enjoying the rare chilly weather of the afternoon. eita’s beside you, barely awake because he always sleeps in and today you just so happened to intrude on some of that time.

sae, for the most part, entertains you whenever he’s free, even now he’s still replying you. but no matter how good your life gets, you can’t get the ick of staying with someone who doesn’t really love you away. hence why you’re here, seeking escape once again. albeit in a different way than you used to.

although, with all the questioning you’re receiving, you think maybe you should’ve just toughed it out. still, you should’ve expected this topic to come up sooner or later. it’s not unreasonable for eita to get worried when you seem to be seeking him out more than usual anyway.

you sigh, it’s a headache that you’re too used to blocking out that when eita asks you about it you’re not too ready to answer him. “and say what? ‘hey, by the way, my mother’s a perpetual gambling addict who will ruin your entire reputation if word gets out at all’? no thank you.”

there’s a small pause when eita thinks your words through.

“what, you didn’t think of the same thing when hanging out with me?”

you look pointedly at him, arms crossed, wind swirling through your hair. “that’s different, we’re best friends, eita.”

eita chuckles, stretching his hand out and laying his head against it on the wooden table, staring at you. “what’s this now? so you got a crush on sae, huh?”

fuck. you curse at yourself internally when you realise what you’d just confessed to.

“didn’t know you two were even talking,” eita mumbles, maybe to himself with how soft he is right now. “guess it makes sense. that guy wouldn’t have taken care of you the whole night if there wasn’t something going on.”

you mirror eita’s position, looking back at him. “don’t tell me too much, but… is he like this with bianca too?”

yeah, you hate yourself for asking about that to someone who’s not sae, but you want to know what eita thinks. because unlike oliver and the others, you trust eita.

there’s a look that he gives you that you’re not too sure what to make of. it’s gentle, and a little unlike him that you might confuse him for actually being half-asleep and caught in his dreams. but he shrugs, looking away, “i mean, there’s a difference in the way he takes care of you two. if you ask me, if bianca asked him to stay he probably wouldn’t. if it came from you, i think he would.”

eita wants to do the opposite, lie a little and maybe turn you away from his friend. but it’s you. it’s someone he could never lie to. not anymore. and he’d rather stay your best friend than get blacklisted for lying to you.

he sees you heaving a sigh of relief.

“you really like him, huh?” he meant to say that in his head, but the words just roll off his tongue.

there’s a lot of other things you’d usually say to distract him and force a change in subject, but given how much you’re already keeping from him about how bad your mother’s really gotten, you feel like you owe him some form of transparency somewhere, as thanks for keeping you sane most of the time.

“yeah, i think so,” you say, the only hesitation in your voice coming from the fact that you’re not sure if you should be telling eita about this.

for his part, he isn’t falling apart. maybe because all along he knew somewhat that this day would come and that he still wouldn’t be ready, still wouldn’t be able to say he wants one person and one person only. but you’re already there. you’ve always been.

“first time you feeling this way?”

“eita, let’s not go there.”

“why not?”

you stop the conversation from going too quickly, regaining the balance. “so… it was true, then?” there’s a reason you say it in past tense. you hope it’s not still true, from a selfish perspective.

eita’s forced laughter is enough of an answer. he still graces you with an answer. “it still is, i guess.”

for the first time ever, the both of you are addressing this. a few years too late, admittedly, but considering you’re two people who hate being straight with each other about these things, it’s progress.

you remember the day the signs got too real to ignore. it was the day you ran. it was the day eita denied everything because he didn’t want you to but still lost you.

A FEW YEARS BACK

“yeah? you’re not gonna even tell me that things between us are off?” he spat, the frustration seeping through his voice, disdain on every syllable.

eita never used that tone of voice on you until that moment.

it was raining again. just like that night he first kissed you. you thought it would forever mean nothing, you thought it would be something comfortable—for the both of you. something with nothing attached.

“answer me, then. you really gonna date that fucker shiro of all people?”

eita was young, and his fame was steadily rising. he had multiple people throwing themselves at him, wanting anything he could offer and yet everything he was offering to you, you threw away.

not that you necessarily knew what was going on in eita’s head, but given how you were acting, you might have an idea. that was why, right? that was why you were pulling away.

there’s thunder, and dozens of cars passing by, rainwater covering the both of you from head to toe because eita saw you for the first time in weeks and he just couldn’t wait to talk to you any longer. you had been avoiding him for so long now, were you even friends anymore?

your normal cheerful expression was clouded over, your glare more than enough warning that he shouldn’t be doing all of this but eita wasn’t going to stop no matter what. not until he got everything out. he was going to wait until you responded to him because you were apparently so fucking good at avoiding people.

“and how is that any of your business?”

eita barely recognised the person talking to him. since when did you learn to hate him that much?

“oh, i’m sorry, i must’ve missed the fucking memo that we weren’t talking or fucking anymore,” eita spat, the sarcasm dripping off his tongue something he used to use on everyone but you. not now, though. he was too angry for that.

you scoffed, walking one, two steps forward, both of you just an arm’s length apart. “then hear this, eita: we’re not fuck buddies anymore, and i have a boyfriend, so just stay away, okay?”

there were multiple voices in his head screaming not to say what he wanted to say at that moment, screaming at him that he would regret it, but he didn’t listen. his eyes wide, a sneer on his face; he was determined to look more vindictive than you were right then. “oh wow, y/n, didn’t know you were such a slut like your mom, giving it to whoever has more moneybags,” he mocked, more than aware of the hurt in your eyes but his temper was bad, and he couldn’t stop himself. “you know what? maybe you deserve all this shit, then, since you’re the same.”

the slap you gave him that day was the second hardest you’d given him in your life, maybe because a part of you was too distraught hearing those words from him that you weren’t in your best condition. that, and maybe the rain. but you ran away crying, as much as you tried to hide it. but eita had been in this position before, had seen what you looked like while running in the rain with tears in your eyes though you tried to mask them as the rainwater. you never liked to cry in front of him, and you never did.

and then, he was the reason you cried. the one person who you thought would never do that.

that night, as you ran straight into your boyfriend’s arms, you thought maybe you deserved it for not being able to deal with other people’s feelings properly. it wasn’t eita’s fault for having emotions, and it most certainly wasn’t his fault that he didn’t want to tell you about it. but you could feel it.

you felt it in the way he tried to hold your hand while walking alone. you felt it in the way he tried to hug you to sleep after he fucked you senseless. you felt it in the way he wasn’t seeing anyone else anymore. it wasn’t that you didn’t care about him, but with everything that was going on, emotions aren’t such a simple thing that you could handle, after all. especially if you didn’t feel the same way.

it was supposed to be a pair of best friends, using each other, nothing more and nothing less and you couldn’t take the heat when you felt eita wanting more. maybe you should’ve done it differently. maybe. and it was funny that you could tell how he felt about you yet at the moment, you couldn’t tell if he meant what he said.

and maybe if you knew better, you would've asked. no, if you knew better, you would've talked to him about it.

but it was all too late.

PRESENT

“oi, snap out of it.”

eita’s normal snappy voice brings you back to where you are, in his balcony sitting and supposedly enjoying the view, because when you’re high up here it almost looks like you have no troubles in life—at least, not the ones you have.

“look, i’m not gonna ask you to ignore what i just said,” eita says, sighing before he looks you straight in the eyes, his green irises much warmer than they used to be. “but can i ask you a favour?”

it takes you a while to respond, only because you can’t tell what he wants from you. your mouth opens slowly and carefully, “what?”

eita scoffs, and this time it’s not in disgust and you can tell. you can tell his mannerisms a lot better now. maybe because you’re both adults, and more transparent. maybe because you both had already lost each other once and know what that felt like, and maybe you both don’t want it to happen ever again. you don’t really know about him, but to you, no one can replace him in your life. his presence is too significant for that.

“stop looking at me like i’m a lost puppy.” he’s scowling now, downturned lips softening just a little, into a pout.

you snort, containing your laughter. perhaps you’d been thinking a little too much about it that you’re starting to look at him with pity. “yeah, okay.”

“that isn’t the favour.”

“then what is?”

he carries a straight face as he talks to you now, his fingers coming up to flick you softly on the forehead. he’s always felt like family to you. sometimes you wish he was. and for his end, he looks at you, knowing that the emotions he has will forever go unreciprocated, and yet he can’t stop being dumb by trying anyway. he knows, already, just by looking at the difference in the way you treat sae, in the way you look at him. you’re so smitten, and if eita even stood a chance, you would’ve been together already. and sometimes he wonders if what he said that night was what pushed you over the edge, was what solidified him as nothing more than just a friend with a temper too harsh sometimes that you didn’t want to count on even if you had no one else.

there was a fault he could find in the way you pushed him away. but there’s more that he can find with himself for saying what he said to you. he still counts himself lucky you never held a grudge with him over that.

eita chuckles under his breath; he can’t believe he’s about to say something so corny but he doesn’t know how else to tell you. “i kinda don’t want our friendship to change,” he explains, and he has to look away because if you’re going to run away again, he doesn’t know how he’ll take it. you’re about the only person who knows every single side of him. sides he doesn’t normally show to people. “so… don’t fucking run away again, or treat me differently just ‘cause you know how i feel. that just makes me feel fucking pathetic.”

because he knows you only pushed him away since you couldn’t reciprocate. you weren’t a slut, and you surely didn’t deserve any of your unfortunate circumstances—nothing he said that night was true. you only had good intentions, and the words that came out his mouth were only bad.

even until now, he hadn’t apologised.

yet here you are. smiling in front of him, for him, because of him. despite everything shitty going on in your life, here he is, asking you for a favour. and you’re nodding your head, preserving the friendship that you needed to stay a friendship, just like you’ve always been.

“okay, i promise,” you say, a childish smirk on your face as you hold your pinky out, to which he obliges and hooks his own around.

“you’re so dumb, i wonder what he sees in you,” eita sighs as he yanks his pinky away.

you’re laughing, the earlier bad memory already whisked away by the sunlight hitting your face. “who?”

“sae.” you freeze on eita’s words, but eita does you a favour and pretends he doesn’t see, doesn’t tease you about it. he wants to know about all of this, even if it’s just from the jealous perspective of being the throwaway option. “he treats you like…”

“like what?” your voice quivers a little, because you’re nervous. you always are when it comes to itoshi sae, somehow. (you won’t admit that right in front of the man himself though, too embarrassing.)

“like he likes you.” eita has to swallow the lump in his throat. it sucks to be talking to you about this, to possibly be talking this guy up, but he knows you need a friend. and he knows you don’t open up easily, so he has to be your best option. eita looks at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if you’d open up a little bit more.

there’s a faraway gaze in your eyes. “eita?”

“yeah?”

this time, that gaze focuses on him, a warm, sad smile on your face. looks like the pity hasn’t fully worn off, but he’ll excuse it this time.

“thanks,” you say, so softly.

looks like you aren’t really ready to talk about it yet. eita rolls his eyes jokingly; trying to be just a best friend seems pretty hard after all. “stop being a sappy piece of shit,” he groans, earning a giggle from you.

somehow it feels nice, being able to take away some of that pain, even if just for a small moment. though, maybe you’d have an easier time around sae, if you would just learn to open up.

“and hey, if you’re still too scared to tell him about any of it, you can still find me, ‘kay?” he tells you, and you nod appreciatively. you probably just see him as a big brother by now. “and if your mom’s still giving you trouble, come by anytime, i’ve been too busy nowadays to bring anyone home anyway.”

you gasp, acting shocked. “oh really? wow, a changed man.”

“mhm mhm, i just fuck ‘em in the club.”

your playful jab on his arm comes faster than it usually does.

you wonder if you can ever repay eita for everything he’s done for you—be your punching bag, letting you stay at his house rent-free sometimes, accidentally ruin his date night others. you think of how he feels about you and you think probably not. you probably can’t ever repay him for how much sanity he’s given you back when you were at your lowest. so maybe you’ll start by not running away this time.

but your mind drifts to his words. you’re going to have to tell sae some time, but you know how it turned out the last time you told someone with such a high status about it. you remember how shiro turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how his warm demeanour changed when it suited him, how he used everything to lord over you.

you wonder if sae will be the same. you don’t even know if these feelings are fleeting or not. are they even worth it?

is sae going to be worth a try? or is he just going to turn out just like shiro?

yeah, you’ll take your time telling him. you want to get to know him, so it’s hypocrisy from your end, but if he’s a good guy, he wouldn’t mind waiting—that’s what you tell yourself, because like hell do you want him to know about your family as you are now. pathetic, scrimping from paycheck to paycheck, desperately clawing your way up into a normal class. next to him, you’re too inadequate.

but then, why is your gut telling you otherwise?

sumi comes bounding in on monday morning, straight to your desk after her morning meeting with the boss. she looks exceptionally happy today, her eyes beaming bright and her smile nearly infectious.

“i swear to god, i think my hard work is paying off!” she exclaims excitedly, careful to keep her voice down even then. she bites on her lower lip, suppressing a grin when she passes you a proposal she’d done up.

on the first page, it’s titled as such: proposal, by suzuki sumi. when you flip to the second page, you’re overwhelmed by a huge close-up picture of one of the top players in soccer right now—isagi yoichi. she giggles when she sees your face contort in surprise, nodding in excitement.

“let’s just say, thanks to a friend of a friend, i managed to talk to isagi at the airport and he personally agreed to do an interview with us,” she proudly explains, answering your unspoken questions. she’s already happily chattering away about her plans for when his interview’s booked—which you learn is still a few weeks away, and may be delayed depending on whether his schedule has any last minute changes.

“that’s lucky,” you comment, passing her proposal back to her. there’s pages and pages of meticulously planned questions and interview segments, along with possible video footage they could do to add onto the company’s youtube account. sumi’s obviously enthusiastic about all of this, more than you’ve ever seen her since you first spoke to her.

it’s nice to see sumi finally happy for once, given how hard she’s been working at this company. she’s the first friendly face you saw when you first came here anyway, and had it not been for her, your work life probably wouldn’t feel as warm as you do now.

“i know, right?” she sighs, content, dreaming about how the interview would go already, about how happy the boss will be with her once their numbers skyrocket. after the lifeline you threw for them by somehow getting to know itoshi sae, it’s been hard for anyone else to keep up. she smirks at you, “remember what i said on your first day here?”

sumi had said a lot of things, actually. most of which were mostly gossip and not actual work, but you can guess what she’s hinting to. “yeah, that it pays to have connections, right?”

you remember those words, only because you’d unintentionally thought back to eita once she’d said them. your attention flits back to sumi, who looks wantonly relieved—she must’ve really been worried for herself then, considering how bad the job market is right now. she never told you, but you could sense she’d been worried about her performance, and whether or not she’d get enough bonus this year to have that dream wedding she’d always cooned over.

“mhm, and you have two indispensable ones yourself,” she points out, winking, taking a sip of her coffee. “otoya eita and itoshi sae, while i’ve just now gotten isagi yoichi.”

she spends the later part of the morning texting you about how she’ll need your help to pull it off, while you juggle work, sumi and apparently sae at the same time, because for some reason, he’s gotten real chatty over the weekend. not that it’s unwelcome—it’s a pleasant surprise.

right, because when you’re out with sae, who has a heck of a pr team—people who make sure to keep him in line, you’ll have to be careful. you can’t let just anyone see you out and about with him, not when he has a ton of crazed fans who would probably butcher you just for dating rumours. your mind drifts off, wondering how bianca deals with it. though, considering she comes from a long line of famous figures, you guess she’s used to it, having to grow up with all that attention around you.

you look at the clock—it’s around ten minutes till your work day ends. your heart speeds up at the notion of seeing him again, even if it’s only been two days since you’d seen him last. you wonder how you’re going to survive if he has to be away for months at a time for his games if you’re already yearning to see him this much now. shaking the feeling off, you straighten up, retreating to the bathroom to freshen up before you go.

at the same time, parked in the corner lot, sae stares at the caller ID on his phone as it vibrates, surprised. he picks it up, wondering why she’s calling when it’s probably late wherever she is.

“hey, it’s your favourite girl,” bianca’s voice squeals over the line. “guess what?”

“what is it?” sae is, for the most part, not too surprised. bianca has a habit of calling him a lot of the time. more and more frequently nowadays. he wonders why.

“i’m in japan right now,” she reveals, giggling, and sae finds a bad feeling dawning over him. “pick me up? i just got to the airport.”

“sorry, can’t pick you up tonight.”

“what? i thought you’re gonna be in japan for a while.” he can just hear the disappointment in her voice.

“yeah, but i’m busy now, so…” sae trails off, not knowing exactly if he should say anything about you.

“oh, with the guys? you could just skip out on—”

“nah, it’s with someone else,” he settles for, wondering what the sudden silence from the other end of the line means. he’s not sure he wants to find out right now, so he’ll have to talk to bianca some other time. “i gotta go—”

“are you going on a date?” bianca’s tone seems more inquisitive than he’d like, but her question has him thinking.

is this a date?

bianca stays silent as he ponders about it, waiting with bated breath because this is the first time in two years that sae had ever rejected her request, and judging by how he’s struggling, he’s undoubtedly meeting a girl. is it you? she curses under her breath as she pushes her hood over her head, determined not to let anyone see her sweat right now.

“yeah,” sae says, the decision coming to him as soon as he sees your familiar face approaching, that polite little smile on your face. “i’ll talk to you later.”

indignant, bianca exhales sharply, her temper taking over her as she huffs a “don’t bother” into the receiver before hanging up.

sae looks down at his phone, staring at her name on the call log. he makes a mental reminder to check in with her later, but for now, he shoves that thought aside—tonight, he’ll focus on you. just you.

and when you effortlessly command all his attention by slipping into the passenger seat all too naturally, he thinks that whatever ripple effect this may cause may be worth it. for him. and now, it’s his mission to make it worth it for you too.

“so,” you say, all sparkly-eyed as you look at him excitedly. “where are we going tonight?”

you thank god that you decided to dress up a little more today when you see that he’s taking you to another high-end place. this time, it’s on a rooftop of a five-star hotel, with views overlooking the tokyo skyline; a view you never thought you’d actually see in person.

it’s breezy enough up here that it’s not too stuffy, and there are step lights and string lights all around the venue but they’re dim enough as to not reveal sae’s face too much. (not that anyone hear even bothers to look at anyone else passing by, all too engrossed in their hushed conversations.) you notice he’s always handsome no matter what he wears—and today it’s a black button-down shirt with black pants, a casual dark jacket hanging over his shoulders. your eyes linger over the little bit of his chest that you can see; you can tell he’s muscular under there.

“distracted much?”

sae’s voice startles you, and you can see him smirking a little as if he knows what you’re thinking. your cheeks heat up a little, acting coy. he’s reaching a hand out, probably something you didn’t notice while you were deep in your thoughts, and you take it, letting him lead you slowly to your seats.

as you take a seat and the waiter hands you the menus, your eyes flick up, looking at the man across from you. he reads the menu silently, and you notice the sliver of black ink that extends across his palm. it takes all you can to suppress a grin.

“i can always give you another one anytime, you know?”

for some reason that you probably know, sae catches on to what you’re talking about pretty quickly, the dim lighting failing to conceal the way his ears turn red. “so you like giving me hearts?”

you don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice, having to conceal your own nervousness. “i think you’re the one who likes receiving them,” you quip, hiding your face behind the menu.

there’s a rustling noise, rousing your curiosity and making you put the menu down. sae doesn’t respond to your earlier comment but he does give you a tiny smile, putting a two-pack of macarons on your side of the table. he must’ve taken it out of his pocket while you weren’t looking.

“what’s this?”

“macarons,” he shrugs, though you’re not really asking that. he picks up on it. “i was in paris for some event over the weekend. thought you’d wanna try that.”

(sae looks at your reaction as you pick the small bag of mini macarons up, eyes staring at it in awe. he thinks maybe you recognise the name on the plastic—it’s the name of the most popular bakery in paris. it costs a lot more than he thinks macarons should, but when he sees the subtle smile on your face, it’s definitely worth the price tag.)

you’re not so big on surprises, especially when your mother loves giving you some on the daily, but this is the kind of surprise you like. the kind that makes that incessant vibrating in your purse worth it. the kind that trumps your want to be in control.

and even throughout dinner, sae keeps surprising you. maybe it’s just that you’ve never experienced much, or that you never expected much from him, but every little thing he does seems meaningful to you. the way he makes sure to ask if you don’t like to eat certain food before ordering, the way he drapes his jacket over you when the wind picks up, even the way he slowly leans across the table to clean the stray crumb off your face with his finger.

every gesture seems to tell you something—something that you don’t dare to think of because you’re scared that it’s not true, that you’re the only one starting to fall.

“you know, if you’re constantly like this around girls, no wonder there’s always dating rumours with you,” you huff, too afraid to ask him directly.

but sae always manages to decipher your intentions somehow. he tilts his head, earnesty dripping from his words, “whatever ‘this’ means, i’m only like that with you.”

it doesn’t do your heart any favours, making it pound a million miles an hour because whatever sae’s confessing to here wasn’t on your bingo card for the day.

“itoshi sae, you’re too much.”

“sae.”

“huh?” you look up at his face, only to see him averting his gaze as he turns to look at the skyline, the wind rippling through his soft pink locks.

“call me just by my name.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, gaze dropping to the table. it’s not like you purposely didn’t, but the fact that he’s asking you like this, like he’s being needy about it, heightens your emotions so much more.

his fingers find their way across the table again, this time to your chin, tipping it up, urging you to look at him. “say it.” it’s not commanding, or mean, or forceful, and his fingers are gentle, even his gaze and his intentions.

“sae.” his name rolls of your tongue slowly, and the way he smiles at you after that makes you feel inexplicable, knowing that you’re the reason he looks like that.

he doesn’t even say anything about it, just a smile in acknowledgement before he says he’ll go and pay the bill. you stare at his back as he goes, the contrast in your lives very apparent at every instance he takes you out—because it’s always fancy and expensive with him, a world you know nothing of, a world you once thought you’d never experience in this lifetime.

yet here you are, experiencing it thanks to him. you wonder if you’ll still get to once he knows about your family. he’s sort of a celebrity, right? there must be things he cares about that won’t line up well with your situation.

yeah, you don’t think you’ll ever get that out of your head. not until you ask him about it.

and you’re tempted to—especially with the vibration you’re constantly feeling tonight. taking the opportunity while sae’s away, you fish your phone out of your purse, picking the call up reluctantly, only because you’re mildly curious what else your dear mother could possibly want from you.

“you ungrateful little whore—”

“what do you want?”

yeah, you know you shouldn’t have picked it up. you really shouldn’t. and you don’t even know why you were even mildly worried that it might be your mother in danger and needing your help when she clearly wouldn’t do the same for you.

you hate yourself the most out of everyone. you knew clearly you shouldn’t have picked it up. and now your mother’s on the other line, cussing you out for ignoring her all night. then going on about some cruise she’s going on next week and how she found a secret stash of cash that you’re keeping in the kitchen cupboards, how you’re going to get it from her for hiding it and how kind it is of her to even warn you in the first place.

it’s fine.

you kept it there to distract her from your real money, safe in the bank. if she thinks she’s stealing all you have, it probably won’t cross her mind that you still have any. she doesn’t even know you’d worked multiple jobs back in university, only thought you were good for hooking up with men and purposefully disrespecting her.

a hand around your shoulder makes you jump back in shock, your eyes greeted with sae’s own.

“everything okay?”

“y-yeah, it was just a scam caller,” you lie, immediately hanging up and stuffing it back in your pocket.

as you clamour on about how both of you should really get going, sae catches the way your fingers tremble ever so slightly, how your lips threaten to downturn—are you about to cry?

but when you turn around and force a grin, joking about how you’re going to pull a dine and dash on him, he knows you won’t. whatever’s bothering you—you’re locking him out of it. he doesn’t like it, but can he even complain?

and when the both of you are back in the car, the night feels strangely short somehow, and sae reluctantly pulls out his gps. “what’s your postal code again? i’ll drive you back.”

there’s a short pause before you offer him the string of numbers, and sae’s brows furrow when he keys it in. “you’re heading to otoya’s?” he asks. he knows you two are close, and have been, but this sinking feeling in his heart is not something he’s familiar with.

you bite on your lower lip. you don’t want him to have any false assumptions, but you’re not exactly ready to tell him the truth either—that you’re just running from your problems, that eita’s house is the only other space you have.

“are you… still involved with him?” sae asks, voice soft, looking away like he did earlier.

it reminds you of that night you got drunk. you remember how you needed to know. so you figure maybe you owe him the same. “i’m not involved with anyone,” you tell him, smirking. but he looks at you like he’s waiting for more and you remember too, what you want to hide from him for now. “i just—i don’t have—”

“hey, you don’t have to say anything,” sae cuts in, the slight quiver in your voice enough indication that this isn’t something you’re prepared to say. he’s known that for a while now. “you just can’t go home, right?”

you’re more than a little grateful that he is the way he is, that he doesn’t force anything out of you like shiro used to. “yeah,” you admit, awkwardly looking away. “i usually just stay at eita’s until… i’m ready to go back.”

there’s an awkward silence that stretches on for a while before sae concedes to it. “you could stay at mine.”

did you hear that right?

you furrow your brows. “what?”

sae’s mouth hangs open for a while, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “i could drive you to otoya’s if you prefer that. but… if you wanna stay at mine, that’s fine too. i have a couple extra rooms, you could just pick one.”

what you actually wanted to hear was why he’s willing to do that for you when he hasn’t even known you long, but you hold your tongue. there are doubts in your head—like privacy issues since he’s a celebrity, and rumours if you ever get caught entering or exiting his house, and what exactly does he see you as?

but there’s the selfishness part of you that wants to go for it. and you listen to her.

“then, can i stay over? just one night so i won’t intrude too much,” you assure him, being polite because you’re scared you’re overstepping your boundaries. or that he’ll think you’re a creep even though he’s the one that invited you.

sae can’t help but snicker, and you can’t help but stare as he rests his head against the steering wheel, staring at you. “are you interested in me, y/n?”

you pout, because he’s hit the nail on the head, the embarrassment flying to your head. “okay you know what? if you’re gonna joke about it just take me to eita’s—”

this time sae bursts out laughing, and you feel even more mesmerised; it’s unfair how easy it is for him to do that.

“okay okay, i won’t say that anymore,” he appeases you, hand coming up to ruffle your head. “and feel free to stay as long as you want.”

“i’m gonna steal your jacket, by the way, since you like to joke around so much,” you huff, though sae only chuckles at whatever you say now.

“sure, take whatever you want.”

“and you’re buying my necessities.”

“for when you’re at mine? sure.”

“sae, one day i’m gonna kill you.” because he’s still laughing, obviously getting a kick out of your earlier embarrassment.

“you can’t do that.”

“and why not?”

and sae’s face immediately leans forward, just inches away from you. he’s so close you can feel his hot breath against your cheeks and it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest.

“then i won’t be able to give you that kiss you asked for.”

your breath catches in your throat, sae coming closer ever so slightly, his gaze falling to your lips for a split second before he shatters your hopes by pulling away, setting the gps to the nearest convenience store. but he doesn’t drive off just yet.

not before he makes sure to look at you one last time, that dazed look on your face, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to pinch your cheek gently, leaving an imprint of himself in your heart.

“come on, we’re here.”

after a half hour of poking around the convenience store and getting whatever you need (you also had to stealthily creep some disposable underwear in your basket and make sure sae didn’t see them when paying), you arrive at sae’s apartment—nestled in one of tokyo’s most luxurious neighbourhoods. a far cry from your own.

he carries your bags for you, leading you to his unit, straight at the top, on the thirty-second floor. his is the corner unit, and he gestures for you to walk in front of him.

“1-0-0-9,” he tells you, both hands full.

“huh?”

“the combination, it’s 1—”

“no, i heard you,” you interject, a little exasperated. “but you shouldn’t just hand the passcode out to anyone.”

“i don’t,” he assures you, saying it matter-of-factly. “i trust you.”

you hurry to key in the code, so easily flustered by the way he seems so willing to tell you anything. “then don’t blame me if one day you come back home to find the place ransacked,” you jokingly warn him.

sae conveniently ignores that comment, placing your items in one of the spare rooms nearest to the living room. as you walk in, you marvel at how spacious and clean his apartment is. it’s all cold marble floors and high ceilings, and you can already tell it must be so nice in the day with all the natural lighting flooding in here. the wide windows must let all the sunlight in, must be much brighter during the day than yours is.

you follow him as he tells you where everything is; the spare room right next to the living room, the toilet across from it, the kitchen right next to the balcony exit, accessible from your own room. his apartment is so huge it makes you wonder if he ever feels lonely in it.

in the living room, you see multiple pictures in frames, most of which you assume are probably his family. you recognise rin, present in most of the pictures. they look happy, at least. there’s also one with eita and the others, and some others you don’t recognise. none of bianca or any other girls, you note.

“all good?” he asks once he’s done with the mini tour.

you nod apprehensively, still tense about the fact that you’re staying the night at his place. “yeah, i’m just gonna wash up first.” you don’t even let him say anything before you’re bounding off into the spare room he gave to you, trying to calm yourself down because it never hit you until now that you’re really here, in sae’s place, ready to make yourself at home when you’re not even anything to him. though, you really hope that there’s something.

“calm down, y/n, just gotta take a shower and you’re good as new,” you whisper to yourself, calming yourself and taking deep breaths.

outside, sae’s gaze lingers on the door to your room, your shadow visible from the bottom gap of the door as you move about. he can’t even come up with a good enough reason to tell himself why he bothered to let you stay here, except maybe that he selfishly didn’t want you to stay with otoya.

is that bad?

before he can ponder anymore about it, the door to your room opens and you sheepishly walk out, a grin on your face as you approach him. “so… i forgot something.”

and now you’re going to ask him for it.

“what is it?”

“i swear i didn’t forget on purpose, okay?” you’re pouting, and he finds it mildly adorable. “could i borrow some clothes?”

sae nearly bursts out laughing just from how nervous you seem. though, from how you’ve been every time you saw him, from his hat to his jacket and now you’re asking for his clothes, he can see why you’re a little nervous.

“do you always forget around otoya too?” he means that redundantly more than anything, just a passing comment, but you answer anyway.

“well, i always just wear his jerseys.”

you really were just answering honestly, but the way sae grips your wrist and guides you to his closet is almost comical. you allow yourself to think that he’s doing this out of jealousy, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you follow him.

“you have a walk-in closet?” you gape, looking at the sheer size of it. it’s nearly as big as your entire room.

“take whatever you want, my jerseys are in there,” sae says, pointing you to the sliding door closest to you.

that’s how you end up coming out of the showers a half hour later, dressed in his national jersey, his name in block letters at the back. you’d take a picture just to savour it, but you’d like to think that hopefully this isn’t the last time you’ll get to wear it.

when you come out, sae’s already washed up, probably has his own bathroom in that big bedroom of his. his hair’s wet, dripping onto his thin white t-shirt, eyes finding your gaze as you walk towards him and bow deeply. you’re a comfortable distance away from your mother, phone switched off and discarded into one of the drawers in the guest room, only because sae was kind enough to let you stay. for multiple nights even, if you want to.

“thank you,” you tell him, and it’s for more than just tonight, more than just dinner and a shirt and a bed to sleep in. somehow, ever since you’d met him, he’s been there for you constantly, even if he doesn’t mean to be. it still counts for something, you think, because you can’t even remember the last time you felt like a giggly high school girl having a normal crush even if it’s on a not-so-normal person.

“not gonna ink it on my skin now?” sae teases when you straighten back up, and you roll your eyes.

“don’t blame me if you wake up with a dick drawn on your face.”

“is that what you want?” sae asks you, and you get the feeling he’s not even invested in your quip, his mind elsewhere.

sae’s face is right in front of yours, like so many times before now, it feels like. it makes you think you’re not that delusional, that he could feel just the same as you do—excited, tired, confused.

“i already told you what i want,” you whisper, and you would probably kill yourself if you were thinking clearly for being so open and vulnerable in front of him right now, but then it doesn’t matter.

none of it matters when his lips are on your lips and you can taste the mint lingering on his tongue, when you can feel the way his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer, but gently, like he’s trying not to seem too eager but so close to failing. his hair tickles your face, the way he keeps coming back for more leaves you breathless.

your arm comes up behind his neck, keeping him close. his kiss makes your mind hazier than any alcohol can, his grip falling to the back of your thighs, your lips still connected as he lifts you up onto the counter of the kitchen, his body nestled comfortably between your thighs as he knocks the air out of your lungs.

it’s as if he’s telling you you’re not crazy, that you’re not imagining anything, because he’s here with you right now, out of anyone’s watchful eyes and he’s kissing the fuck out of you simply because he wants to. no dares, no alcohol—just itoshi sae and his crumbling resolve to hide his yearning.

by the time he pulls back, both of you are trying to catch your breaths, foreheads leaning against one another and it leaves you wondering whether it’s as you think or if he’s just entertaining your wishes.

“you know something?” he speaks, voice hoarse as his teal eyes look at you from behind those beautiful lashes of his. you swallow the lump in your throat, forcing a what? out even if it’s barely audible at best. “i’ve been wanting to do that too.”

you must’ve been wrong. you’re not the one that’s a lot to handle. he is.

“why is it that you always somehow know what i’m thinking?” you wonder out loud, an arm around his shoulder for support. you’re both still as close, still as mesmerised by the other.

sae doesn’t really know what you mean by that, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m just made for you,” he comments offhandedly, and you find it hard not to shrink from the nervousness. by now, he should already be able to tell you have a crush on him. your only saving grace is that he probably feels the same. otherwise, you have no doubt he’d probably go out of his way to avoid you.

“you have quite the tongue on you, you know that?”

sae chuckles softly, a smirk lining his lips as he continues staring at you, admiring every single inch of your face. “you would know.”

completely flustered, you gently push him away, hopping off the counter and skipping towards the guest room, offering sae one last thing to think about before you shut the door on him—“maybe next time you’ll know about me too.”

and once your door is shut, sae exhales shakily, the thought of your words and their insinuation consuming him for the entire night.

you really are a lot to handle.

extras !

that heart reaction from sae was absolutely an accident. he meant to go for the thumbs up.

after that kiss, sae had to help himself. he wasn't planning on going any further, but you turned him on a lot more than he thought was possible.

despite his feelings, eita still thinks he isn't ready to commit to just one person.

your feelings towards your mother are complicated—you know she isn't loving at all now, and yet you still hope for that small chance that she might revert back to the mother who once promised to love you more than anything else. it's something that eita was always against because he knew how much it hurt you. it's part of why you don't like to speak to eita about it and hear all of those things.

bianca got drunk to forget after sae rejected her request; when she drunk dialled him, he was too busy giving you a tour of his house.

sae has never invited bianca over to his house even once. he also has never lent her any of his jerseys (as she mentioned in the start of the chapter).

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

#itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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acourtofmoonlightandstars · 17 days

Text

Find me - Chapter 3

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: At a ball you meet the one person you thought you would never see again, you left him once. Will you leave him again?

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Violence, I guess?

Note: We have some new friendships and some good old Rhysand and inner circle slander, høhø. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list.

Chapter 2

You jumped from the balcony, not caring about the height you’d had to fall to reach the garden beneath. You were still in your nightgown but you didn’t care. There was no way you weren’t leaving right away.

There was nothing to do except sprint towards the staples, you might have a mate with wings, but since you yourself didn’t have any, they would have to be borrowed elsewhere.

You ran on bare feet, not even noticing the cuts the rocks beneath your feet caused. Nothing mattered, nothing except this, except him.

Luna was in her stable, dark and strong as always. The fairy lights shone on her blank feathers and reflected the light. Your father had gifted you the pegasus because he thought she matched your eyes. And the two of you had instantly bonded.

You quickly slid into your riding pants and their matching leather boots, all meant to keep you safe and warm in the high altitude.

“Hey girl, are you ready for a trip to Night?” you whispered into the neck of Luna, you twisted some of her mane around your finger as she gently pushed your hip. It was almost as if she asked you to hurry up and get going.

You chuckled, and the shadow that had manifested in your skin came back to life and slid up her mane and rested between her ears. It looked like she was suddenly wearing a crown of shadows, and it made her look even more majestic than she already did.

Luna stretched out her wings and made room for you to climb up her back, and just as you set off into the night, Lucien came crashing into the stable, only to see you disappear up into the sky.

Azriel had never really gotten up after the meeting in Rhy’s office earlier that day. He had stayed in that spot on the couch. As usual no one really seemed to notice. When the meeting had ended they all scattered to find out information about his so-called condition, no one stayed behind to check in, to hug him as he cried.

He clawed at his chest again. She would’ve, she would’ve stayed. He kept repeating the thought as a mantra.

It was dark out when the High Lord once again joined him in the office. “Az, what are you…” he started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Let me go, let me go get Elain” he asked. “I need to feel like I’m doing something…”

Rhysand sighed as he sat down on his large chair behind his desk. “You are doing something, your shadows are doing more than any of us ever could.” he rested his cheek in his hand as he looked at his brother.

Azriel only shook his head. “I don’t care, and honestly Rhys, I’m going with or without your permission” his eyes were cold, in a way that was only ever directed at his victims, the people he tortured, never had he ever looked at anyone from his family with eyes like that.

Rhysand sat up in his chair, face folded in his neat mask with that feline smile of a cover for his true emotions. Azriel rolled his eyes at his behavior.

“So, this is how it’s gonna be, huh?” he asked as he let his power roam through the room. It was enough to make the fiercest warrior afraid, but Azriel wasn’t just anybody.

“Yes” he answered as he stood up. The High Lord of Night’s eyes darkened. “You’re in no position to leave, you're broken, bruised and you’re definitely not thinking straight” Rhysand stood from his chair, palms placed at the cool mahogany surface. He let some more of his power free.

“Just because you were willing to let Feyra go, just because Cassian refused to tell Nesta the truth about who they were to each other, doesn't mean I want to do the same brother.” he spit out the last word as he felt his shadows dance around him in a protective manner. “Let’s be honest, the two of you were cowards, too afraid of them refusing you to even try to fight for them, for their love. I have no intention of doing that. I have always been rejected and refused, but not with her, at least not yet. And if she were to refuse me I’d rather have that happen sooner rather than later”

“That’s not fair, they both did what they thought was best for us” Feyra said from the door opening with Nyx in her arms, but Azriel only shrugged.

“Have you ever stopped to think that this might all be a trick?” Rhysand asked. “That you’re being manipulated by someone to leave Valaris? That an attack could be coming? If you leave our first defense, your spies, will leave with you and we will be vulnerable”

He had to admit that his High Lord was making a good point. But he should also know that Azriel would never leave Valaris unprotected. “Fine, I’ll leave a few stationed by the borders to inform you if they catch an intruder. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really wanna get going”

And with that he stepped through a shadow, leaving his High Lord and Lady alone in the study. Rhysand couldn’t help but wonder if he was well on his way to make an enemy of the Shadowsinger, and if that were the case, he was scared of what that might mean for not only his court, but his family.

“What do you mean she left?! I thought you said she was so weak that she could barely walk?!” Azriel heard the High Lord of Day yell through the halls. His voice bounced on the walls, and he could feel the almost scolding power that he radiated, despite being no way near him. Helion's voice was sad, heartbroken and worried. It was new for him to catch the High Lord in a position like that. It seemed that these two usually powerful men were both in a vulnerable state.

“Someones here” Elain said, as she laid a hand on her mates beating heart. Lucien quickly turned towards the hall where Azriel’s shadows had taken him, he quickly put himself in front of his mate, as he lit both the fire and the light that was hidden away in his veins.

As Azriel stepped into the light, none of the three high fae spoke. He looked like a shell of the person that Elain had seen just the night before, there hadn’t even gone a day, what had happened to her friend? She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips.

The shadowsinger couldn’t help but smirk, but it never reached his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, but I need your help Elaine”. It only took a few steps for Lucien to get in front of the Spymaster. His hand rested on the back of his neck, checking his temperature. His hands slid up his cheeks and forced him to meet his eyes as they scanned him for any kind of injury.

“I’m fine Luce'' he said as he brushed away his hands. The most amazing thing that had come from Azriel's previous crush on the Archeron sister was the friendship with the Vanserra. The two men had learned to understand each other on a level no other could. And in the last decade Lucien and Elaine had become the people Az would always turn to.

None of them really showed the rest of their inner circle the bond that they shared. Elain had always said it would be too dangerous, never really specifying why. So they met up in other courts, snuck away at balls to drink and laugh with one another.

Elaine was by Azriels side in a second, taking his arms in hers, and it was almost like he collapsed in the pair's arms. Like if he came home and his body finally allowed itself to relax. His knees gave after and he broke down. He didn't even have the energy to hold his wings off the ground. The state of the Illyrian even worried Helion as he called out for his soldiers to fetch him a healer, that was despite the fact that he seemed to have enough worries of his own.

“Az, what the hell happened to you?” Elaine said as he brushed his curls from his forehead, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. He just stared at his hands. A few seconds later, he passed out from exhaustion.

You rode all night, desperate to be in the Night Court as soon as daylight hit the territory of one of the oldest allies of her fathers. Helion had always respected Rhysand, always adored Feyra and thirsted after your own mate and his best friends.

A fire ran through your body at the mere thought of some other person's hands on his body. It was weird, because the bond hadn’t snapped yet, but you still knew that he belonged to you, and the possessiveness was already clouding your mind. You couldn’t help the chuckle.

Shortly after you had crossed the border you landed on a hillside outside what you assumed to be Valaris, you would wait here, for anyone of the so-called innercircle to come find you. No need to make them worry, they were warriors after all.

It didn’t take long before you saw the High Lord and Lady winnow a few hundred meters away from you. Shortly after followed the Morrigan, Cassian, Nesta and Amren. But no Azriel. You felt how your heart contacted, how the disappointment sept through your body. Why wasn’t he here? Did he know you were coming and had decided he wanted nothing to do with you?

“Couldron boil me, that’s a fucking black pegasus” you heard Nesta breathe out in chock. You smiled at her, and she took a step towards you, mesmerized by the creature, but was quickly stopped by her mate.

A second later you felt as both Rhysand and Feyra tried gaining access to your mind. Your walls of black obsidian, as dark as your eyes kept them out, and it didn’t take long for them to realize there was no way in.

“Who are you?” Rhysand yelled out towards you.

“I’m Y/N, emissary from Day” you spoke clearly, tried your best to seem as confident as possible as you were stared down by all of them, your mates' chosen family.

“How come we’ve never met you then?” Feyra then said, Rhysand was slowly walking closer to you as he assessed you, your stance and Luna too.

“I’ve spent the majority of my time in Autumn ever since Eris took over, and as far as I know, you aren’t that close with the Vanserras” you felt how the fire in your veins wanted to make them known as you spoke of your other home court, but you kept it hidden. Your father had kept your identity a secret for a reason after all.

“Only an idiot would willingly spend time with that snake Eris” Cassian said as he crossed your arms. You couldn’t help but look at Mor who to most people was as poised as ever, but you saw how her shoulders shrunk by the mention of your oldest brother. Lucien had told you of how she had decided to keep the truth of her run-in with Eris a secret, and not defend him. Not calling her out, took every bit of willpower you had stored in your body.

Instead you rolled your eyes, as you had learned your brothers often did when the matter of that day centuries ago was brought up. Mor seemed to recognize the gesture but kept it to herself.

“None of that really explains why you’re here girl” Amren said with a cold, almost indifferent tone.

You sighed as you pulled off your riding gloves. “I’m here to seek out your Shadowsinger, High Lord and Lady” you might be better off with fake formalities you thought.

Rhysands eyes darkened instantly. “And tell me, what is it exactly you want with my Spymaster?” it all seemed like too much of a coincidence to the pair.

Be careful… Worried… Angry… Afraid.

The shadow that had accompanied from Day, had at some point managed to slither up your neck and now sat close to your ear and whispered information to you about the people who stood before you.

It was impossible for you to hold back the smirk that painted your lips. Azriel might not be here, but his shadow was helping you, and it made you feel safe.

You shrugged. “I have some information for him,” you said. The answer didn’t seem to please Rhysand, and you felt that insane amount of power radiate from him.

“As far as I know, Azriel is my spymaster, he reports to me. So whatever information you have for him, you can tell me” Rhysand smirked, but his eyes were dark, cold. He seemed on edge, as if he had expected something to happen soon, as if he expected an attack.

You smiled at him, tried to seem as gentle and non threatening as possible. And then you shook your head and Rhysands smile faltered. “No, this only concerns him, no one else”

“You’ve trespassed into our court, you seek out one of the most powerful people in all of Prythia and you refuse to tell me why. What exactly do you expect me to do?” He said as he flicked off a piece of lint from his sleeve. No doubt a coping mechanism to seem somewhat indifferent. It didn’t work on you.

“I expect you to welcome me like you would any other emissary, and something tells me this isn’t the usual welcome wagon” You catch eyes with Nesta as she smirks at your comment. Elaine had always told you that she had a problem with their brother-in-law.

“You’ve chosen to come at a bad time, and apart from that Helion usually informs me of the emissaries he sends our way, he hasn’t this time. So maybe you’re just one of Eris’s whores, coming here to see if you could seduce the only unmated man in my innercircle to get information”

Rhysand looked to a few of Azriel’s shadows that stood close by. “Grab her and take her to the dungeons” he ordered, and the shadows rushed towards you. But just like on the balcony these shadows stopped a few feet from you, and when your little friend revealed itself from its hiding place in your hair, Azriel’s shadows rushed up to join it on your shoulders.

They were filled with excitement as they kept chanting mate, over and over as they took turns to shower you with compliments. You giggled at them, despite the danger you knew stood before you. Your first little friend gave you a peck on the cheek and left you with its friends, slithering away to find its master and tell him to hurry home.

“Is she a shadowsinger?” Mor said as she took a step forward. The surprise was easy to read on all their faces. Nesta leaned into Cassian with a knowing smirk as she gave you a small nod.

“I’m not here to cause trouble, please believe that” You said as the shadows calmed and rested in your hair, on your shoulders, up your arms and down your legs. They provided you with an extra layer of protection.

“Let the shadows go” Feyra ordered, as wings grew from her back. It was an incredible sight to see her shape shift before you.

“I’m not their master, they go where he orders them to, I'd imagine” you answered, but Rhysand seemed to be filled with your excuses, and sent out a wave of pure power aimed directly at you.

You heard Nesta scream “NO!” as he did, a reaction that earned her a look from the High Lord. The shadows took the blow, which made you wince on their behalf. You had no idea if they were conscious beings, if they could feel pain. You hope they couldn’t.

Feyra helped her mate in his attack, sending light your way that never hit its target and fire that never burned your skin. Her frustrations were clear to see for all, personally you couldn’t help the smirk on your lips.

And then you raised a hand and all light that surrounded the inner circle disappeared, leaving all but Nesta in complete and utter darkness.

“Did that witch just blind me?!” Cassian yelled out. As he tried desperately to get to his mate. Nesta just rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand, she did however have a subtle smile on her lips.

“I just wanna talk to Azriel, please… Just tell me where he is” you felt how your voice threatened to break.

“He’s not here Lightstealer” Amren said with a calm and collected voice. “He’s in another court, and I’m guessing none of us plan to tell you which before you give us our sight back” The small woman crossed her arms as she shot out one of her hips.

You sank to your knees ready to give up on your quest and let your power go, once again making it possible for them to see. You felt your tears stream silently down your cheeks. The shadows were desperate to calm you, to make you feel better. In that moment you were all they saw, and one second later, something hit you over the head and everything went black.

Taglist: @tele86 @lilah-asteria @photographmymusic

#azriel x reader #azriel rec #currently reading #lucien vanserra #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #acotar incorrect quotes #eris vanserra #eris recs #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #helion

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intoanotherworld23 · 4 months

Text

Grinding In The Garden

Pairing: Reader x Oliver Quick

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, there is sex in this and that’s it, minor fingering, minor spanking, unprotected sex, sex in a garden, public sex, dirty talk

Summary: Oliver wants to take you for a stroll around the garden, and of course he’s got another idea in mind

Authors Note: Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoy it would mean a lot, and keeps me motivated to keep writing! Tag list is always open so feel free to ask and I’ll be happy to add you! Thanks so much everyone! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

"Ollie what if someone walks by?"

Whimpering to Oliver as he tugged your pants down to your ankles. The cool air breezing over your exposed core. It felt like your heart was racing a million beats per second. Your stomach was in knots at the thought of getting caught.

"Then we give them a real show." He jokingly said his focus solely on your naked lower half.

Tugging on himself as he licked his fingers and rubbed them over your folds. Body jolting at how cold his fingers were, and goosebumps appearing on your skin. His touch was gentle but boy did it have an affect on you.

The thought of maybe Felix or Venetia walking by and seeing what's happening did kind of turn you on a little bit. If anything it's what you and Oliver secretly wanted to happen.

"Someone seems to like that idea." It was like he was reading your mind.

"I can see that cunt glistening for me." Licking his lips at how wet you really were.

Pushing two of his fingers inside of you making you gasp as you turned your head to the side to catch a better look at him. Bending your back a little more as you spread your legs as far as they could go. The sounds of your wetness every time he plunged his fingers back in echoing in your ears.

"Ollie please." Begging him to hurry up so you could feel him.

"Look at you so desperate. About to be fucked in the gardens like the greedy little whore you are." His words sounded cruel but he said them with such sensuality.

Oliver wanted to take you on a walk through the gardens at the Saltburn estate, and you should have figured he would also have something else in mind. Randomly confessing to you that he's always wanted to do it where anybody could see. He could never keep his hands off you.

"Are you ready for me sweetheart?" Cocking his head at you as he curled his fingers up your core clenching tight around his digits.

"Yes."

A hand coming down on your cheek making you jolt in surprise realizing those weren't the exact words he wanted to hear. He had a certain way he wanted you to address him sometimes.

"Yes, sir."

"That's a good girl for me." Pulling his fingers out your juices coating them feeling the wetness on your hip as he gripped your flesh. "Always a good girl for me."

Bending his knees as he spread your cheeks apart so he could push his cock towards your entrance. Your hands gripping onto the tree that you were currently bent over. Parting your mouth as you felt him slowly slide inside of you. Stretching you out as your cunt swallowed him whole.

"Oh fuck this feels too good."

Groaning to himself as he clenched his jaw to refrain from cumming too soon. Feeling your slowly stretch around his length. He wanted to enjoy this.

"Keepin that cunt nice and tight for me."

"Ollie please move." Whining as you wiggled your hips back and forth hoping he caught the silent demand.

"Anything for my girl." Pulling his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in you loud moans leaving your lips.

"Like that sweetheart?"

"Mhm fuck yes." Mumbled through your teeth biting your bottom lip.

Oliver was amazed at how well you could take him. Watching the way that your walls gripped him almost like you didn't want him to leave. His cock disappearing as you swallowed him whole.

"God look at you." He teased as he watched you back your hips to meet his thrusts. "Taking my cock like this when anyone could see."

Nails digging into the tree bark as his cock was so deep inside you could feel him in your stomach. Your lower stomach bulging leaning your head down just barely enough to see his cock pounding into you. Closing your eyes as your body moved back and forth from the powerful force of his thrusting.

It was eerily silent where you two were except every once in a while you heard crickets chirping or something. The only sounds you could really hear was your moaning and yours and Oliver's skin slapping against one another.

"You're doin so good for me darling." His voice a gentle praise of acknowledgment.

Oliver could tell you were getting closer the tighter you were squeezing his cock. He wasn't far behind you, and wanted to feel his sweet release when you did. Strained groans and grunts slipping past his lips as he looked from where you two were connected to trying to get a glimpse of your face.

"Oh god I'm there Ollie." Backing your hips into his thrusts to feel more.

"Fuck let me feel that tight little cunt cum around my cock." Pushing deep inside you with a sharp thrust a scream leaving your mouth.

That familiar coil forming in the pit of your stomach as you blinked away a tear. Oliver leaned forward to kiss your shoulder tenderly then nibbling softly on your skin as you whimpered at the sensation.

Oliver's face was spanked red as sweat dripped down the side of his face. Hands grasping your cheeks squeezing the flesh between his fingers so badly wanting to take a bite. Oliver was obsessed with how you felt around him, and he could live inside you if he had the choice.

"Fuck me that's it." Oliver growled into your ear like a wild animal.

That clearly set you off as your body tightened and legs nearly gave out. The air had left your lungs for a brief second taking a huge inhale then exhaling. Thank god Oliver was holding you otherwise you would have collapsed to the dirt ground.

"Mmmm my god." Crying out into the air as your walls squeezed him like a vine.

Your orgasm smacking you in the face as your entire body felt like it was on fire. Squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembled, and your head was spinning so fast you felt like you were floating in the air.

Oliver groaning and panting above you as his cock twitched feeling warmth spreading inside of you. If it wasn't for him holding onto you your body would have collapsed to the ground.

Your arms shaking as you tried to steadily catch your breath. Taking small breaths as you tried to come down from such an intense orgasm.

"We gotta go on walks like that more often." Oliver joked as he smacked your ass a genuine laugh bellowing out of your stomach.

#oliver quick #Barry keoghan #oliver quick smut #Barry keoghan smut #oliver quick x reader #Barry keoghan x reader #oliver quick fic #barry keoghan fic #oliver quick imagines #barry keoghan imagines #oliver quick fanfiction #oliver quick saltburn #barry keoghan fanfiction #Saltburn smut #Saltburn imagines

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sanguineterrain · 2 years

Text

no other will do - e.m.

Summary: You're home from college for the holidays. Eddie's playing a show and he wants you to be there. How can you say no to the boy you've been in love with since freshman year?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings/tags: mean girl who is jealous of reader, friends to lovers, absolutely lovesick eddie. this man is so in love with you!!!

Eddie's waiting in front of the gate when you come out.

You'd honestly believed you'd convinced him not to come. Five times on the phone you had told him he didn't need to. It's a long drive from Hawkins to O'Hare International Airport. You're on break, Eddie's probably busy; there's no way you'd expect him to spend a day chauffeuring you to town.

But there's his van.

Eddie is not dressed properly, despite it being November, clad in a leather jacket and jeans. His hair is tied back in a ponytail. You're struck with the urge to run over and kiss him.

No! No. Bad Y/N. You'd gone to college four states away for a reason. Yes, it had the program you wanted and branching out of Hawkins was necessary. But more importantly, it gave you ample space to get over your longtime crush on your best friend.

Mission failed, obviously.

"Eddie," you call weakly, waving.

He looks up and his face splits into a grin. Eddie meets you halfway to the van, taking your suitcase.

"I distinctly remember telling you not to pick me up from O'Hare," you say, following him to the car.

"How long have we been friends?" Eddie asks. "You should know by now that anything you tell me not to do, I'll do it."

"So if I had asked you to pick me up, you wouldn't have?"

Eddie pretends to think about it.

"Hmm. Nope. I'd still be here. Gotta make sure Hawkins' princess arrives safely."

He loads your suitcase and closes the door. Then he turns to you, beaming. Your heart does a flip-flop.

"Missed ya, sweets," he says softly.

"I missed you too, Eds."

He pulls you into a hug and you melt. Eddie’s warm and smells like that familiar spicy cologne you’ve been homesick for for the last three months. All the promises you'd made yourself about not getting soft and dumb for Eddie Munson fly out the window. You're hopeless. And he doesn't even know it.

He releases you and opens the passenger-side door for you, then gets in on the other side.

"This is pretty," Eddie says, turning the ignition.

He tugs on the hem of your green knitted sweater.

"Oh." You swallow. "Thanks. It's new, I got it at a shop near school. They have a guitar store, you know?"

"Yeah? Did you go inside and wow them with your knowledge about heavy metal?"

"No," you giggle. "I'd never look at guitars without you. 'S sacrilegious."

“Sacrilegious, huh? Am I some kinda guitar god?” Eddie grins.

“I’m not gonna answer that and blow up your already giant ego.”

“Ego! That’s it. Outta the van, princess.”

“No chance,” you say, clicking your seatbelt. “Royalty deserves proper treatment.”

“You called my bluff,” he sighs. “I have a hard rule about never kicking pretty girls out of my van.”

You turn to look out the window so Eddie won’t see your reaction to that. He starts the car and pulls out of the pickup zone.

“Hey, so,” he says. “Speaking of guitar gods, we, uh… got a gig.”

You snap your head back.

“You did? Where?”

“It’s called Excalibur, ‘bout twenty minutes from Hawkins. Kinda feels like a sign,” he chuckles.

“A paying gig? Eddie, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you,” you gush.

Eddie’s suddenly shy, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Really?”

“Of course I am. I always believed in you. If anybody can be a rockstar, it’s you.”

Eddie glances at you, then back at the road. He seeks out your wrist and squeezes. He might as well be squeezing your heart.

“Thanks, princess,” he says fondly. “Well, so, what I wanted to ask is: will you come? I’d get you in for free, obviously.”

“Eddie, it’s a business—”

“That can afford me bringing a plus one,” he finishes with a wink. “Non-negotiable.”

“You want me to come? I’m not exactly heavy metal.”

“Of course I want you to come, sweet thing. You’re my best friend and you’ve supported me from the start. I know it ain’t your scene, but you don’t have to stay the whole time! We’ll probably go eat afterwards and you can meet the others.”

“Others?” you ask.

“Yeah, well, since we got booked, we’ve been scoping out the place. We met this other band, Birds of Prey. The lead singer, Missy, she’s cool. Real Janis Joplin vibes, y’know?”

“Oh.” Missy. Of course Eddie had met a girl. You couldn't expect him to just not. Eddie’s a sweet guy. Funny. Handsome. Love of your life. Et cetera.

“So you’ve met a lot of… girls?”

Eddie glances at you and shrugs.

“Some.”

“Like on dates?”

Shutupshutup. Eddie’s too clever for you to be asking direct questions like that. You might as well hang a neon sign around your neck that says jealous!

He laughs.

“I’m really not the kinda guy people go on dates with, angel.”

Which is not true. At all. If you can figure out Eddie’s a winner, any girl with a half a brain can do the same. But you don’t tell him that, because you’re selfish and pathetic.

“I want to go,” you say instead.

Eddie lights up. “Great! Oh, awesome. It’ll be a bitchin' show, promise.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Eddie seeks out your hand, rubbing your knuckles. You smile despite the acute feeling you’re sealing your doom.

Friday comes fast. You spend most of your time before Eddie's show agonizing over why you love tormenting yourself. Then he rings you up and asks if you'll come over for a pre-show soiree. And because you're a sucker for Eddie Munson, you say yes.

You've been to the trailer before. It's not strange at all for you to be here. Wayne knows you well. But for some reason, this feels different. When you saw Eddie everyday, you could pretend. His constant proximity was normal then. Now, after three months apart, you're a lovesick calf. It's just like when you'd first realized your crush on Eddie back in freshman year. You'd been an absolute mess and it'd nearly cost your friendship.

You've sworn not to make that mistake again.

Eddie’s room currently looks like a tornado ran through it. Clothes are strewn everywhere. You dodge a flying bandana from your place on the bed as he continues to rifle through his closet.

"Eds," you sigh. "Does it really matter what you wear?"

"Of course! It's a statement."

"But the whole point of metal is to not care," you say. “Come back so I can do your other hand.”

Eddie obeys. He kneels one leg on the bed and sticks his unpainted hand out. He’s got a bit of black kohl around his eyes and brand new spiked boots. You make sure not to look at his face for too long so you don’t do something really stupid.

You laser in on Eddie's fingernails, carefully painting them with black nail polish. He holds his breath every time you get close, still as a statue.

"Actually, the point of metal is to protest societal structures you don't agree with, like the government,” he says. “Metalheads definitely care if you're not dressed for a concert."

“But I thought everything in your wardrobe is metal.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie gestures to his Metallica tank top. “This isn’t concert metal. I have a reputation, y’know.”

“Well, I’m not dressed for a Corroded Coffin concert either,” you reason. “I don’t own anything metal.”

You’d tried, for the record. You'd found a charcoal gray sweater and black tights. That’s about as close to metal as you can manage.

“That’s okay, princess. You’re so pretty, you don’t need to wear proper attire. I, on the other hand, need to look like I eat souls for breakfast.”

You cap the polish. Eddie thinks you're pretty.

“Okay, done. Don’t smear it.”

Eddie wiggles his fingers with a grin.

“You’re a doll. What if I pair this with my jacket? Or wait! What about my torn black jeans?"

Eddie gets up, hands poised delicately. He stops at his closet and pouts.

"I'll ruin your hard work," he frowns. "D'you mind helping me look mean and scary?"

You get up with a smile.

"Impossible. You could never be mean and scary."

"Way to crush a guy's dreams, princess."

You shrug. "Somebody has to tell you."

You gently push through Eddie’s “clean pile.” You pick up a leather jacket and a torn sleeveless top that says Devil’s Advocate.

“What about this one? You look nice in this one,” you say, holding it up to him.

“Nice? I can’t look nice! I’m not going to prom, Y/N.”

You sigh.

“Fine. You look mean and scary. Straight from the Underworld. Satan himself. Better?”

Eddie shivers exaggeratedly, grinning.

“Getting me hot under the collar with that talk, princess.”

“Shut it,” you huff, throwing the jacket at him to hide your fluster.

Eddie squawks, dodging the jacket. He wiggles his fingers.

“They’re drying!”

“I’m pretty sure they’re dry now, Eds.”

“We really can’t be so sure, can we?”

You get up with a sigh.

“I am not taking your shirt off, Eddie.”

“Well, ouch, princess.”

He shrugs and in a second, pulls his shirt off. You immediately turn, looking up at the ceiling.

“Jeez,” Eddie says behind you. “‘M not gonna blind you. They show male chests on MTV, y’know.”

“I’m giving you privacy,” you say, face hot. “Now hurry up. You don’t wanna be late.”

You peek, just for a second, and catch a glimpse of pale, freckled skin and a line of hair that disappears under his jeans. Nope, nope. You are not going down that rabbit hole of thought.

“Can you at least help with the jacket?” he asks.

“I suppose.”

You take the jacket and bring it behind him. Eddie sticks his arms through, never breaking eye contact.

“Good?” you check.

“Perfect, sweet thing.”

You frown at the jeans he’s chosen.

“Eddie, those have holes.”

“Yes, dear, I know. I made ‘em.”

“It’s November! You can’t wear clothing with holes.”

Eddie beams, eyes scrunching. You cross your arms.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he says. “‘S just nice you care so much ‘bout me not getting sick. You really are a sweet thing.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be sick over my visit.”

“Purely selfish reasons, huh? Tsk tsk.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No! I just—wanna spend time together,” you say. “And we can’t do that if you’re sick.”

“Alright, alright. What if I wear my lightly torn jeans? ‘S that fair?”

Eddie steps away from you, beginning to undo his belt. You panic.

“Uh, yeah, yep! Fine! I’ll go start the car.”

You scurry down the hall and grab Eddie’s keys. You get into the van. By the time Eddie comes out, the car’s already warmed up. He wears jeans that have significantly less rips. Eddie puts his guitar in the back, then gets into the driver's seat. He smiles at you.

“Aw, look at you, keepin’ my seat warm.”

“Because you have the blood circulation of a vampire,” you reply with an eye roll.

“Vampire and the princess. Now there’s an underrated literary trope.”

Eddie looks at you a moment more. Then he seems to make a decision, sliding off the cross on his middle finger and putting it on your left ring finger. Your eyes widen.

“Eddie—”

“For luck,” he says.

“But… I’m not playing.”

“I know.” He shrugs. “But if I know you’re wearing my ring, well, I gotta make you proud. Don’t wanna be an embarrassment while you’ve got my ring on.”

“Oh, Eds. I am proud. You’re doing it.”

Eddie gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Thanks, sweet thing.”

“You’re welcome. Now you really have to drive, Eddie. You’ve got a half an hour till your show starts.”

He checks his watch.

“Shit! Alright, hold onto something. We’re cutting this twenty minute trip down to ten.”

Eddie ends up making some questionable driving advances. Halfway through, you question if you should’ve gotten into the car with him. But you get there on time.

Eddie ushers you out.

“Eddie, just go, it’s okay. I can find my way inside.”

“Oh, absolutely not, princess. This crowd is rougher than The Hideout’s. Plus, I gotta get you in somehow. C’mon, pretty girl.”

Eddie keeps his guitar in one hand and you in the other. You’re practically glued to his side as he corrals you both to the back entrance.

“Hey, Sal.” Eddie waves at the bouncer parked at the door. “Everybody’s inside?”

“Sure is. You’re on in ten. Better hurry.”

“Thanks. This is Y/N. She’s with me.” Eddie nods to you.

“No guests, Munson,” Sal frowns.

“Watch it, Sal,” Eddie pushes back. “She’s not a guest. She’s my girl. Came all the way from college to see me. Y’mind? We’re on a tight schedule.”

Sal looks at you. You hope he doesn’t ask questions; you have all the speaking ability of a fish right now.

“Hmm. Fine. No tricks.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie grins, tugging you through the entrance.

“You lied to him,” you whisper when you’re far enough away. “Eddie—”

“Sweet thing, what was I supposed to say? Had to get you in. And I didn’t lie, okay? You did come from college and you are my girl. Only girl I’ve got, right?”

“But… you made it sound like we’re—”

“Dude!” Gareth hisses. “Where the fuck have you been?”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Chill, Gare-Bear. We’ve got time. Where’s Jeff?”

“Bathroom. Hi, Y/N.”

You wave shyly.

“Hey, Gareth. Cool chain.”

Gareth gives Eddie a look. You don’t know what it means, but whatever it does makes Eddie’s cheeks redden. He turns to you and squeezes your waist.

“I gotta go. Stay in the front so I can see you, ‘kay?”

“Why? Afraid I’ll run?”

“Nah,” he grins. “Just rather look at your pretty face instead of these ugly mugs.”

“Hey!” Gareth huffs.

“Eddie…” you tut. “Be nice.”

“Not nice. Mean and scary.”

He makes Devil horns with his fingers and sticks out his tongue. You giggle.

“See you after,” you say. “Good luck!”

And with that, you brave the crowd. Immediately, you feel out of place.

You’ve been to Eddie’s shows before at The Hideout. But this crowd is bigger and definitely a more intense scene than Hawkins. Most of the crowd is already drunk, or at least buzzed. They’re loud with excitement and unaware of their surroundings. You focus on not getting pummeled and on finding a seat up front like Eddie’d told you.

A group of girls push past you. The ringleader knocks into your shoulder and gives you a dirty look. She has long, dyed purple hair and black makeup. Her features are striking and perfect for the atmosphere. You wish you could fit in like she does, at least for Eddie’s performance. You’re starting to feel like you might be the embarrassment tonight.

“Watch it,” she snaps.

“Sorry,” you mumble, and grab a seat.

Thankfully, nobody else bothers you. It’s only another minute before the lights dim. The first band is clearly very popular, judging by the howling cheers they get. Their frontman is covered head to toe in tattoos. You make a note of a green dragon inked on his neck. Eddie will like that one a lot.

You do your best to match the energy in the room, despite not knowing many songs. Eddie’s played a few bands for you, but since metal isn’t really your thing, you’re lost when it comes to the less well-known bands.

After the opening act finishes, you see a curly head of hair poke out of the curtains. Eddie searches for you. You wave and he finds you then, giving you a big smile.

“Having fun?” he yells.

“Tons!” you shout back.

He gives you a thumbs-up and disappears backstage. The curtains part.

“And now, Birds of Prey!”

The group of girls who’d bumped into you step onstage. You clap lightly and stay seated. Their lead singer, the purple-haired woman, gets to the microphone. Missy.

“You guys ready to hear some real music?” she laughs.

The crowd screams.

“Good!”

They launch into Enter Sandman. Missy has a perfect voice for it, raw and raspy. You prefer Eddie’s voice, sweet and low. He always complains it’s not metal enough. You’re sympathetic but you secretly love that Eddie can croon, if he really wants to. Sometimes he does, when he’s had a beer or two and is sleepy with affection. Then he’ll sing along to Wayne’s Buddy Holly records. Your very own Eddie Munson exclusive.

Bird of Prey finish after a couple songs. You politely clap with the crowd.

“And now, something fresh!” the emcee announces. “Corroded Coffin!”

You jump from your seat, clapping excitedly. The band comes out. Eddie dances around the stage, hyping up the crowd. They eat it up. Eddie’s born to perform.

His eyes find yours and he blows a kiss. You shake your head. After all these years, Eddie still flusters you better than anybody.

“Those ladies before us were pretty dope, huh?” Eddie asks the crowd.

They scream their agreement. He grins.

“Hope you guys like Ozzy.”

Eddie is beautiful. He plays guitar like it’s an extension of himself. Everyone else is yelling to the lyrics, nearly drowning out the sound. You can only stand and stare. You probably look ridiculous gawking at them. But oh, well. You love Eddie Munson. If you look like a fool, so be it.

Jeff closes their performance. The crowd goes wild with applause.

You go backstage before the next band goes up; once the lights go down, it’ll be impossible to navigate the crowd. Backstage is thrumming with energy. You spot Birds of Prey first. Missy locks eyes with you. She struts to you, brow raised. You draw your shoulders back, braced for a fight.

“Princess!”

Eddie drapes himself over you like it’s been years since you’ve seen him as opposed to forty-five minutes. You hug him back, tearing your gaze from Missy.

“Hi, Eds,” you say.

“Hi, sweet thing!”

He squeezes you hard, curls tickling your cheek. Ah, yes. This is why you’re here.

“You were amazing,” you gush. “Really, really wonderful, Eds.”

Eddie looks like you’ve just told him he won ten million dollars.

“You really think so?” he asks. “Not just pumping my ego, are you?”

“No, Eddie. I loved it. Especially the Dio one.”

He grins.

“Oh, I know. Saw you dancing, pretty.”

“Stooop,” you whine. “Don’t make fun of me, Eds.”

“I’d never. You’re the best dancer there, angel.”

“Yo, Munson!”

One of the performers waves at Eddie.

“We’re heading out! C’mon.”

“Yeah, Eddie,” Missy coos. She looks at you. “Bring your friend too.”

Your stomach twists. Eddie turns to you.

“Hungry?”

“Oh, um… sure. Where are we going?”

“This burger joint. ‘S not far. I’ve been there loads of times.”

“With Missy?”

Eddie gives you a funny look.

“Sometimes her band comes. Wanna check it out?”

You don’t want to be a drag. Eddie is genuinely excited, hopped up on adrenaline. The rest of the band will be there too. It’s not fair to make him take you home.

“Okay,” you say, trying to smile. “Sure, Eds. Sounds great.”

Missy, luckily, takes another car. So it’s just you and Corroded Coffin in Eddie’s van. Jeff and Gareth chatter about the show and songs they should play next. You’re in the front seat, because Eddie always has you sit up front no matter who’s in the car.

“Eds?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“Are you, uh… h-how well do you know the bands that played tonight?”

Nice. Subtlety +100.

“The first guys who performed, Black Tar? Not that well. Their frontman, Beetle, he’s kind of a legend at Excalibur.”

“With the dragon tattoo?”

“That’s him. Staring at other guys’ tattoos, huh?”

“Actually, I was thinking the dragon would look much better on you, Eds.”

Eddie grins.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm.”

“I have been thinking of getting a new one. You haven’t chosen a tat for me since freshman year. High time we continue the tradition.”

“I think a blue dragon would look cool,” you say. “On your back or something.”

“My back? But then no one would see it, sweet thing.”

“I’d know it’s there.”

Eddie laughs.

“Would you come with me to get it?”

“Of course,” you say. “I always do. Even when you got your bats from that skeevy guy at The Hideout.”

“Now Bill was a nice dude and dirt cheap. ‘Sides, my arm didn’t turn green, did it?”

“Thank God,” you huff.

“Always worrying about me, sweet thing.”

“Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t wreak havoc on unsuspecting Hawkins.”

Eddie pulls into the parking lot of Brey’s Beef. Big deals on big beef! the sign reads. Your chest tightens at the sight of Missy and her band inside. Eddie reaches for your hand and squeezes.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, yeah. Ready.”

Eddie opens your door and you curse how sweet he is and how in love you are.

Brey’s is a tiny burger shop that looks like it time-traveled here from the 50s. You go with Eddie to the counter and study the menu boards while you wait in line.

“Their milkshakes are to die for,” Eddie whispers in your ear.

“To die for, huh? Munson approved?”

“One hundred percent.”

You order a cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake. Eddie orders an ungodly creation called The Demon and a mint chocolate milkshake. You make a face.

“Hope you like your toothpaste shake,” you snort.

“Mint chocolate is superior,” Eddie shoots back and pulls out his wallet.

“Eds, wait—”

“No, no,” he says, pushing your coin purse aside. “I’m paying.”

“Eddie, no, c’mon…”

“Who got paid tonight?” Eddie asks, shaking his wallet. “Lemme treat you, princess. ‘S not like I get to do it much this year.”

Eddie pays and scoots you to the condiment counter. You sigh, shoving your coin purse back in your coat.

“Eds, I would’ve paid. You should save that money.”

“‘S okay, sweet thing. You’re worth it.”

God, how can he just say those things? He has to know what they do to you, doesn’t he?

“I’ll wait for the food, ‘kay? You can sit down.”

You glance at where the others are and try to hide your grimace.

“Okay, Eds. Thanks.”

You take the seat at the end of the table. Missy and her band are in the middle, heavily flirting with the Black Tar members. As soon as she spots you, she stops. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“So,” she says. “This is the famous Hawkins Princess I’ve heard so much about.”

“Just Y/N is fine,” you mumble.

She laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder.

“Didn’t know Eddie hung out with your sort.”

“My sort?”

“Y’know.” She gestures. “Normie. Uptight. Did you even know any of the songs tonight?”

“Some of them. Eddie’s played Dio and Sabbath for me.” You turn to Beetle. “Your opening number was a really cool cover. Judas Priest, right?”

Beetle winks at you. “Hell yeah it was. Thanks, Hawkins.”

Missy sneers.

“Well, you know how to pretend, I’ll give you that. I’m surprised, though.” She turns to her friend. “Remember when that one townie wandered in? How embarrassing.”

Her friend giggles.

“Oh, yeah. He was so jumpy too. God, what a freak.”

The word makes you feel sick.

“Eddie thought it was hilarious too,” Missy adds. She looks at you. “I guess metal’s not for everyone.”

“Lay off, Miss,” Beetle says. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m not!” she squeals. “I’m just saying, y’know, people should stay in their lane.”

“Eddie says metal is for everybody,” you say, stronger than you feel.

“Of course he’d tell you that,” she scoffs. “And then you’ll go back to college for six months and he’ll forget all about you. Eddie’s not gonna want somebody holding him down, duchess.”

And that does it. You can’t take anymore. You’ll apologize to Eddie in the morning for walking out but right now, you’re tired. If this is the girl Eddie wants, you won’t fight.

Missy whines after you, syrupy venom sinking into your brain.

“Running already, queenie?” she mocks.

Eddie told you once there’s no shame in running. He said taking shit isn’t heroic. If you can, leave. So you do.

It’s windy and freezing. You know it has to be midnight at least. November nights in Hawkins aren’t known to be mild. You pull your jacket tighter around your shoulders and walk down the sidewalk. Maybe you can hail a cab or something.

Something wet hits your cheek. You wipe away the tear. Another falls, then another.

“Y/N, angel? Wait up!”

Eddie catches your bicep, tugging you around to face him. Fuck. You’ve never been good at lying to Eddie. He can see right through you. You have to think of something.

“Sweet thing, why are you crying?” Eddie pulls up his sleeve and brushes your tears. He looks devastated. “Princess, please don’t cry. Who did this? Tell me, I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again.”

And you can’t help it. The name falls out.

“Missy,” you gasp.

Eddie’s immediately confused.

“Wh—Missy? She made you cry?”

You nod, sniffling pitifully. This is not how tonight should’ve gone.

“What the fuck,” he snaps, and you flinch. This is it; this is where Eddie chews you out for starting drama with the girl of his dreams.

“Oh,” Eddie whispers, eyes wide. “No, no, ‘m sorry. Not mad at you, babe. Sorry, sorry. I just—fuckin’ cannot believe she made you cry. How shitty can you get?”

“I shouldn’t be crying,” you say. “I shouldn’t, it’s stupid, I just—”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie pulls you into a hug, rubs your back in slow circles. “Stop it. Don’t say it’s stupid. If it made you upset, it’s not stupid.”

“I know you like her,” you cry into his shoulder. “I don’t mean to ruin that, I—”

“Whoa, what? Sweet thing, Missy’s just another singer. We’re not betrothed or anything.”

“But you said—over the summer—”

“Yeah, we got to know each other. But she’s just part of the scene. And there’s a bajillion people like that. She’s nothing special, princess, no way. She definitely doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“But she is metal. And I’m not. And I’m gonna go back to school soon and you’re gonna find somebody who knows all of Dio’s albums and plays Dungeons and isn’t scared of getting tattoos or piercings or—”

“Y/N,” Eddie says. “I don’t care about any of that. You could religiously listen to the Hot 100 like Harrington does, whatever. Doesn’t matter. Won’t change the fact that I’m crazy about you. Nobody’s got my heart but you.”

Eddie freezes. Slowly, you draw back to meet his gaze.

“You’re crazy about me?”

He gnaws the inside of his cheek, looking everywhere but you.

“I, uh… y-yeah. I am.”

You hold on tighter because it feels like Eddie might try to back up first so you won’t have to push him away.

“I’m crazy about you too,” you confess.

Eddie’s eyes go big as dinner plates.

“Me?”

“There’s never been anybody but you,” you inform with delight.

Eddie’s smile is sweet and a little bashful. He surges forward, hands landing on your hips. You put your arms around his neck.

“Kiss me, Eds?”

“Anything for you, sweet thing.”

Eddie is gentle. He moves his arms up, trying to block you from the wind chill. You play with the ends of his curls. It’s everything you’ve wanted since freshman year and more. Eddie’s warm and everywhere. You feel him smile against your lips.

“Told ya you’re my girl,” he murmurs.

You smile softly.

“Sap.”

“Oh, I mean, uh—” Eddie clears his throat. “You’re my girl in a mean and scary way.”

“Very convincing.”

“Thanks, baby. Wanna get outta here?”

You frown at the windows.

“I kinda wanted to try those Munson-approved burgers.”

“Oh! Shit, hold on.”

He hands you the keys and runs inside. You turn on the van, cranking the heat to four. Eddie flits from the counter to the table. He says something to Missy she does not look happy about. You wiggle giddily in your seat.

Eddie returns shortly. You roll down the window so he can give you the food and shakes. Then he gets into the car, blowing hot air into his hands.

“I hope you didn’t start a fight with Missy,” you frown.

“I just told her to stay the hell away from us.” Eddie shrugs. “Turns out Beetle chewed her out plenty.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. You made quite the impression.” Eddie grins and nudges you. “You’re more metal than me, sweet thing. Gareth and Jeff are getting a ride back with him.”

You grimace.

“I guess they weren’t too happy about us ditching them.”

“Nah, they were understanding. Told them I wanted to take my girlfriend home.”

You laugh, warmth flooding you.

“Oh, really. And what did they say to that?”

Eddie grins.

“‘It’s about damn time.’”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x yn #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #friends to lovers

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (bonus track)

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: established relationship, college au, need i remind you that most bonus tracks are flashbacks, fluff, smut; swearing, oral s*x (f. receiving, mentions of m. receiving), f*ngering, d*rty talk, public s*x, unprotected s*x (don't do it ffs), cre*mpie, i guess that's it, jesus christ why do i have to tag it like this god damn you tumblr

word count: 1.3k

series masterpost / main playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

“Do you have a kink for librarians?” you pant, giving his hair a sharp tug as he stuffs you full of his fingers, while his mouth alternates between kissing your clit and sucking it into his mouth. It’s like he’s trying to make out with you down there, for fuck’s sake.

“No,” you feel him smirk as he says this, his big doe eyes flitting up to your face to take in your blissfully fucked out expression, “just for you.” Then he closes his eyes again - as if that helps savor your taste better - and fully moans against your core like he’s the one on the receiving end of pleasure.

You arch against the bookshelf when Jungkook curls his fingers, bumping your g-spot with practiced precision as he tongues your clit. The sounds of him fingering you open, so goddamn wet, bounce off the walls and the books. You can’t believe you’re doing this in the fucking library! After hours, but still.

Oh, the both of you would be in so much trouble if anybody found out…

Then again, you’d be lying if you said the possibility of being caught didn’t make you just a tiny bit excited.

“Jungkook… nghhh, I’m gonna-”

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess?”

You nod fervently, bucking your hips against his face to chase your high. “Yes, yes, right ther–!”

You’re prepared for the wave to crash over you, to overwhelm your every sense, like lightning when it strikes.

But it never happens.

Jungkook pulls you back just as you’re about to tip over the edge, removing his fingers from you before he stands up with a cocky look on his face. The skirt you’re wearing falls down to cover your lower half again. Your mouth hangs open in shock, in frustration, and for a second there you burn with unfiltered hatred for him. You clench painfully around nothing, but before you can hiss at him, he’s crashing his lips against yours.

An involuntary moan slips from you when you taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook works on undoing his belt as he kisses you, pulling down his boxers and trousers just enough to set his hard cock free. He breaks from the kiss to sneak his hands under your skirt, grabbing the back of your thighs and urging you to jump.

“Up,” he commands, and you obey. Your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer until you feel the swollen head of his cock between your sodden folds. You whimper at the bare contact and so does he. “Put me in, baby,” he says huskily, squeezing your thighs while he leans forward to nibble on your earlobe.

You reach for his cock, giving it a few slow pumps and smearing his precum all over the length, before you guide it to your entrance. You let his tip tease you for a minute even though you were about to bite his head off only minutes ago from not letting you come, and your breath stutters when it kisses your clit deliciously.

“Oh god,” you pant when his cock finally makes its way into you. “Oh fuck, Jungkook…” He buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit when he bottoms out, making the stretch feel infinitely better.

Your arms settle around his neck as he starts fucking you against the shelf, his hips rolling into you slowly at first, and then he’s picking up the pace, pounding you with purpose.

Forgive me, you think in apology to the books surrounding you, witnessing this unholy act unfold before them.

But it feels so good. It feels too good that you can’t help crying out his name with every thrust, his cock grazing your g-spot and pushing you toward the bliss that he previously denied you.

“Good girl,” he grunts, and the sound of his voice dropping low has you oozing with lust even more. The added slick allows him to fuck you better, his entire length pistoning into you, making the room echo with skin-slapping and your wet squelches. “Letting me do this to you in the fucking library. You like it, don’t you? You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Shut up,” you manage to say while trying not to lose your goddamn mind over how wonderfully long and thick he feels inside of you. “S-stop running your mouth and make me come.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but chuckles anyway. “Bossy,” he says, pecking your cheek sweetly like he isn’t about to make you cream all over him.

His hips momentarily pause so that he could adjust the grip he has on your thighs. He holds your body, firm against the shelf, and what happens next is anything but sweet.

When he moves again, he manages to be even faster than before somehow. His cock hits every single spot inside of you that paints stars behind your eyes, and the moon, and Saturn, and every glimmering indicator of light that adorns the galaxy.

His thrusts, deliberately hard, rattle the shelf for a second and it makes your heart fucking leap into your throat. You yelp, and hold him tighter, but he never falters. Jungkook fucks you like he’s got something to prove, and it’s not until the giant wooden structure you’re propped against stops protesting that you can calm down.

“I’m gonna come… Jungk–” you cry, your desperate cunt clenching around him. You actually do cry, but you don’t realize it until the single tear has already rolled down to your jaw and detaches itself from your skin.

“Yeah?” he asks, hopeful. “Look at me.”

You force your eyes open despite how difficult it is. You always try, for him.

Warmth spreads over your chest when you find him gazing at you with a tenderness that would make your knees wobble if you were standing. This time, you burn with unfiltered devotion.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he says. “I love you.”

You grip his shoulders but let yourself fall over the edge. You come hard around him as his name slips from your lips in a drawn-out moan. You feel your release soaking his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the bliss for you until he has to chase his own high too.

You pull him in for a kiss, mumbling against his mouth, “Love you. I love you. I love you.”

And then he’s coming, whining against your lips as his hips stutter. Hot ropes of his cum splatter across your walls endlessly, making you tingle all over.

He pulls out and sets you down on unsteady legs once he’s empty, and you immediately cringe from the feeling of your combined release dripping out of you. Jungkook goes to grab some tissues and your panties from the floor. With gentle hands, he helps clean up the both of you, and finishes you off with a soft kiss.

You look at each other when he pulls away, his hand lingering on your waist as you adjust your panties into place. Then you both burst out in a fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that!” you exclaim, pressing your body to his once again to hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck. “You seduced me,” you accuse with affection.

“You wore that skirt!” he says in defense, and you feel the rumble of laughter that reverberates from his chest. “Besides, don’t act like you weren’t getting all sloppy on me just a couple weeks ago, right by the philosophy shelves.”

You rear your head back to glare at him, punching him in the chest even as you say, “Fuck off.” But it’s light, and completely endeared. It’s uttered with a fondness that he knows how to translate.

Fuck off means I love you.

Shut up means I love you.

I hate you means I love you.

Jungkook shrugs, then squeezes you into his side. A bunny smile peaks through, giving way to shallow dimples that dig into his cheeks cutely. “Let’s go home,” he says. “I got you that tiramisu you like.”

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letters-from-dekarios · 1 month

Text

so high school

summary: you’re the high school’s star football player. never would you have imagined that your eyes would set on the dorky english club head and class president during the hottest party of the year, but some things are meant to be.

or: you flirt with gale at a party

word count: 7.5k

tags: modern high school!au, 18!gale x 18!reader, m!reader, some VERY minor suggested NSFW, another t!swift inspired fic, all the people are in this one somehow, football coach halsin, english teacher mystra (still part of the hate club), high school tropes, kind of underaged drinking (i don’t condone!)

Being the best wasn’t easy. Whether it was sports, academics, or the streets, dealing with the pressure of staying on top of everything was about the most difficult thing someone could do. Having to do all of that, while still being young and impressionable, just made it all the more arduous.

Yet, here you stood— star of the football team, the greatest quarterback your school had in years. You were already being offered full-ride scholarships to play for some of the most formidable teams. Naturally, everything was going tremendously. How you’d managed to get this far was just astounding, especially considering you weren’t exactly known for being intellectual or getting all a’s. It spoke volumes to receive the stacks of offers from different colleges despite all that. A part of you couldn’t help but feel guilty for it, taking away the opportunities from someone who’d grow up to do much greater things in life than you. But the other part of you was just glad to be recognized for the hard work you put into your body.

After all, you were tall, lean, and incredibly fit. All the girls fawned over you like they were going to lose you if they didn’t. And you were hot, so that helped, too. Even some of the guys looked at you twice, despite the fact you were about 70% sure you didn’t swing that way. At least, you didn’t for the guys you caught looking at you. The other 30% was reserved for guys who looked like Flynn Rider, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, and a few of your teammates who you’d always joked that you’d date if you were a girl.

You were well-liked, popular, and knew anybody who was anybody in your hometown. You had connections thick and thin, and, really, you were the teamiest player who could play teams. Okay, that was stupid, but you were a teenage boy— virtually everything you said that wasn’t about football was.

It was getting to that time of year when all the school dances and after-parties were happening, and you were being invited to all of them. You, of course, were also accepting every invitation that came your way, making promises you knew you’d try, and fail, to keep. But, hey, at least you tried.

And then there was Gale. He was… well, a dork to say the least. He was handsome, sure, but he didn’t stand out to anyone besides being the class president and English club head. He was geeky, nerdy, and whatever other adjective you could think of for people who spent their free time analyzing the psychological effects of cannibalism in literature. Yeah, he was liked by the other nerds who were in the same club as him, but he wasn’t exactly popular. He was elected class president mostly as a joke, and you hated to admit that you were one of those votes. He was a nice guy and didn’t do anyone any harm but, alas, high school is a feeding ground for the wildest of beasts.

The most riveting thing about him was that there were rumors of him and the English teacher doing it in her classroom. With the way she looked at him and gave him unique treatment, it almost wasn’t even gossip. Everyone in the school believed it, and everyone in the school meant you, too. It wasn’t unheard of before, teachers going after their students, but that didn’t make it ethical or legal. Still, people talked about it like it was some article in the Sunday newspaper to be marveled at. Mostly, he kept to himself aside from the occasional class meeting that required him to talk to everyone, and was generally quiet.

This particular day happened to be one of his required meetings. You, and your grades’ peers, were gathered in the gymnasium for “information” on the school prom. Despite graduation coming so close, prom felt a million miles away.

You and your friends sat and joked with one another about mindless things, idiotic things, as you waited for whatever announcement was to come.

“Dude, when do you think it started?” Your friend, Wyll, asked you.

“What started?” You questioned, watching as he pointed to Mystra’s longing gaze directed behind the curtain. “Oh my god, we have this conversation like sixteen times a week. Can we please talk about something else?” You groaned, gaining a disapproving shove from Wyll.

“Oh, yes, I’d much rather talk about what we’re each going to have for dinner,” Astarion sarcastically remarked from behind you, kicking you softly. “Don’t be so dull! We have to get through this pointless meeting one way or another,” he pouted, and you nearly wanted to punch his perfect little face in.

“Don’t be so snide, Astarion. I’d much rather talk about that than the sex lives of our teachers,” Jenevelle retorted, rolling her eyes at all three of you.

“Tchk, boys. That is all they care about. Sticking their little wands into whatever hole will open for them,” Lae’zel added on, and all four of you audibly cringed at that. “What? Do I not speak the truth?”

You sighed, waving a hand to dismiss everyone’s comments. “Look, I want to figure out what our stupid prom theme is going to be and get out of here. Let’s talk sex when it won’t get us kicked out,” you told them, and a warning look from your coach, Halsin, signified your conversation was not as private as you thought.

“That’s enough, Mister Y/L/N,” Halsin called up to you, and you bowed your head in acknowledgement. Wyll nudged you playfully, and you snapped at him under your breath to cut it out.

“It is my pleasure and honor to introduce your beloved class president- Gale Dekarios!” Mystra, unmistakably, introduced Gale to the class who gave half-assed applause.

“Hello-“ Gale cleared his throat, glancing down at the notes he had written down. You always found it funny how anxious he’d get on stage. You’d see him start messing with the hem of his shirt, on the side, rubbing it repetitively between his fingertips, and then he’d start talking. This interaction was not foreign.

“On behalf of the students and faculty, it’s my pleasure to be able to announce this year’s prom theme with you all,” Gale began, and you heard some douchebag start booing him. He was quickly shut up by a teacher quickly shushing him, and Gale began again. “The faculty present at this event requested I start with the regulations first. So let’s get into that,” he smiled at everyone, turned a page, and went on.

“Oh brother, this guy stinks!” You heard one of your teammates reference behind you, a small chorus of laughter emitting from his section, you included. Gale went on about how there was no drinking, no aggressive or verbally offensive music, and definitely no sex. Some other rules were mentioned about dress and grooming but nobody ever paid any attention to those.

“This year’s prom theme is…” he allowed tension to build for a brief second, and then smiled as he looked up at everyone, “Midnight Masquerade!”

Your class erupted with both relief and joy. The previous year had ‘Under the Sea’ as their theme and it was a dumpster fire disaster. You all feared what the teachers and principal would decide but, thankfully, it seemed they pulled through this year.

“Looks like you might finally get laid, Lae’zel,” Jenevelle teased, only to be met with a hardened glare. “It’s only a joke, cut that out.”

Once the meeting was dismissed, everyone began discussing what their outfits would be. You had a few weeks to prepare, and you were already forming ideas in your head.

Those few weeks soon turned into days, and then hours as you and all your friends piled into a limo Wyll’s dad had rented for you all.

“Move over, asshole!” You finally got comfortable in the limo with some shifting about, everyone’s dates beside them. For the most part, at least.

“Dude, I thought you were going with Alfira? What happened to that?” Wyll asked you, and you shrugged.

“Dude,” you mocked, “We talked about this. She’s into girls, she’s going out with that one from the D&D club,” you reminded him, and he nodded in distinction.

“Damn, Y/N, going to the prom with no date? And I thought you were mister popular,” Astarion poked fun at you, while you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll be going to the afterparty with someone, don’t doubt me on that,” you chuckled, and Wyll whacked your arm playfully.

“That’s the spirit! Or, hey, maybe you’ll meet someone at the afterparty instead. I heard there’s supposed to be booze,” Wyll grinned at you, and you kicked him back.

“Yeah, 'cause it’s happening at your bigass mansion,” you joked, then you and your party were off.

You each slipped on your intricate masks as you drove into the parking lot. Yours matched your suit, a navy blue color that had intricate black designs hand-sewn into it. The patterns made out flowers and daggers, twisting together into an amalgamation. The mask itself was also a navy blue color, with black lace lined over top. Your tie was the reverse, black lace on blue fabric, and you wore a black shirt that complemented the entire outfit. You were the star of the show, as expected.

You ate, danced, took stupid photo booth pictures with your friends all crammed into the tiny box— you had a good time. Eventually, the voting opened for the prom royalties and you knew immediately who would win.

The night went on, and people partnered for the slower songs that played over the speakers. Somehow, you were pushed up against a guy and encouraged to dance together. You shrugged, pulled him against your waist, and followed the motions of those around you.

“You look nice,” he complimented, his hands resting up at your shoulders.

“So do you,” you returned his adoration and observed his suit. It was a deep purple color that matched his skin tone. Much like your own, it was stitched with a lighter purple and gold that made intricate starry designs. The mask hiding his face was also like yours, matching the color of his suit and overlaid with golden lace.

You leaned down towards him, pulling his waist flush against you as you whispered low into his ear. “You look like royalty,” you hummed, feeling his hands tighten at your shoulders.

“Thank you…” he smiled softly as your lips brushed against his cheek. The warmth radiated off of his face and pulled into your own, his blushing far from hidden even under the mask. “I don’t think you’d say that without the disguise, though..” he laughed awkwardly and you stood straight up again.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” You asked, continuing to move around the dance floor with him, moving between other couples.

“Just a… general observation,” he shrugged, messing with your hair gently.

You lowered down near him again, brushing your noses together while looking into his eyes. “I’m going to take that as a challenge,” you grinned, glancing down at his lips and then back up at his eyes. “I’ll find out who you are and you’ll be mine by the end of the school year,” you smirked, and he gave a half-smile back.

“You can certainly try,” he teased and then began to pull away from you as the song came to a close. He stepped back towards his group, eyes still trained on you.

“Oh, I will,” you nodded in recognition before going back to your friends, who were laughing hysterically at you.

There was something magical about the energy he had, one that couldn't be replicated so easily. Despite the minor interaction, you were drawn directly to him. You knew that he’d stick in your mind like a bad stain you couldn’t wash out, clinging to the foreground of your mind. You wouldn’t escape him even if you tried, and you didn’t exactly want to.

“What?” You asked, taking a drink handed to you from Jen as you returned.

“What do you mean ‘what’? You were practically making out with that guy!” Wyll laughed, patting your shoulder reassuringly.

“You pushed me to him!” You defended, hands in the air as if you were on trial.

“That doesn’t mean you have to cause a scene,” Jen teased, nudging you in the side.

“You guys are just jealous I have more game than you,” you chuckled, everyone hitting you playfully.

“Mate, if you have more game than me then that means I’m dead,” Karlach cackled, the girl at her side giggling at her comments.

“Screw all of you. Seriously.” You shook your head at them, striking up a different conversation while the music slowly quieted. The lights moved from the dance floor to the stage as one of the teachers walked on stage.

“Homecoming and prom, let’s do this,” you smiled down at Jenevelle as the votes were beginning to be counted. Hands interlocked, you’d been praying for this for weeks. It didn’t mean anything academically, but it was the event that counted. The two of you had won the year prior at your junior homecoming and were slated to win prom, too. You had been childhood best friends, none the wiser, and always voted each other for things like this. You shared every joyous moment like blood siblings, and you believed this would be another to add to your memories.

“Alright students, gather around!” All the masked teens huddled near the stage, everyone whispering about who would be voted up this year.

“This year’s prom royalties are…” Since it was a masquerade, they got around saying names by simply pointing you out in a crowd. Both winners were shown with a bright spotlight highlighting them.

You, unsurprisingly, were one of them. You turned to Jen, expecting her to be lit up like you were, but found her shrouded in darkness instead. You looked up at the teacher, beaming at the crowd and motioning for you to step on stage. You were confident you and Jen were going on stage together! But as your eyes found the other light, twinkling in the back of the crowd, you saw it shining on another boy.

Another guy? Who voted for him? And how did he get enough votes to kick Jen out of her spot you were so sure was secured?

Your heart broke for a moment realizing that you’d lost out on this with her. What was supposed to be your final bow turned into breaking ankles. It didn’t feel right.

Jen pat your arm reassuringly and motioned you up to the stage. You smiled despite the hurt, walked through the crowd, and stepped up in front of everyone. The other winner followed a moment after, his friends encouraging him to make his way up. You recognised the suit belonging to the mystery dancer from before, a piece of you glad for it to be him and not a stranger. Even though he was, still, a stranger.

“Let’s give a hand to our royals!” The teacher stepped away from the mic to clap, allowing the other faculty member to place the plastic crowns on each of your heads. You glanced over at the other, who was clearly uncomfortable, and sighed internally. You’d make this easy for him, at least.

“Just follow my lead,” You told him, taking his hand and holding each of yours up with your award-winning smile. You waved with your free hand and pulled him down the stairs and to the dance floor. He barely contested with you, allowing you to guide him. You pondered over the challenge you’d proposed, wondering how you’d find out who he was. You only had so long to do it, of course, so you had to be on your toes to memorize any detail you could about him.

“Now, our traditional slow dance!” The same teacher called into the microphone before the music faded back in over the speakers.

“Just like before, yeah?” Raising a suggestive eyebrow at him, you wrapped your arm tightly around his waist, hand planted firmly against his lower back. His hands went back up to your shoulders like they had before, steadying himself against you.

“I didn’t mean to steal this from her,” the boy apologized, and you made a face to brush off the comment.

“You didn’t exactly look thrilled to do this, so I can’t assume you voted for yourself,” you shrugged, tugging him close by the waist. You took one of his hands, spun him away from you, and then back in. “Besides, I can get more clues from you this way. And put on a little show,” your eyes flicked towards the people recording, and the boy in your arms nodded in understanding.

“Thanks, for this,” he replied, smiling faintly at you. You could only nod your head to accept his gratitude, though you would have done the same no matter who was there with you.

When it finally ended, you two parted ways without much discussion and returned to your friend groups yet again. Though, the air was different this time.

“That was the same guy. Who is he?” Jen asked, and you shrugged. You had no idea, but you wanted to find out.

“I have no idea, but he’s cool,” you took the crown off your head and popped it on hers, smiling down at Jen. “There, now you can experience it,” you joked.

She took the crown off, and handed it back to you, flattening out her hair. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to get head lice from you,” she shook her head, freeing herself of the thought.

“You’re so dramatic,” you laughed, ruffling her hair slightly, causing her to whack your arm.

“Hey! That was crazy!” Karlach came running over, another girl in her arms, tossing her other across your shoulders. Sometimes you wondered why she wasn’t the quarterback, but she much preferred other sports.

“You going to the afterparty?” You asked over the music as it got louder again, consuming your thoughts.

“Hells yeah I am! You?” She asked, shaking you slightly in excitement.

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t go!” You laughed with her, though you could never understand her excitement half the time. She was good company, and you knew the afterparty would be ten times more enjoyable with her there, so who were you to complain?

Your group noticed people starting to leave and took that as your queue to head out. You slipped back into the limo, the party continuing on with the drive back to Wyll’s.

With everyone linked up with their significant others, or their dates for only the one night, you couldn’t help feeling lonely. Each of your friends had a partner, and you were just.. there. Fame meant nothing if there was nobody to share it with. And, no, you weren’t going to not share it with your friends— but sharing it with a lover was so much different. It would’ve been nice to have someone to joke with about dancing with another person that wasn’t them. Yeah, you claimed you didn’t really “swing that way” but, maybe, you kind of did? After all, you’d just essentially flirted with a guy for half the night. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it if it meant you had a partner who fit against you like the missing piece of your puzzle.

“You look spaced out, Y/N, you good?” Wyll asked suddenly, and you snapped out of the daze you’d been in.

“Huh? Oh- yeah! I’m just thinking about how tired we’re going to be tomorrow,” you laughed, and Jen patted your knee in agreement. With all the thoughts bouncing around your head, you were sure you’d leave almost immediately after arriving. But at least you tried!

In the back of the limo, as you all pulled up to the event, each of you began shimmying out of your tight-fitting clothes. Thankfully, you had on an undershirt and pants stored in the car so your change was rather easy. You stuck your suit under the seat to grab later while you changed out of your shoes.

“Hey, Wyll, thank your dad for getting this bigass limo for us!” Karlach shouted as she helped Jen out of her dress, everyone tangled within one another as they changed.

“Yeah, and for hosting the afterparty,” you added, everyone cheering because you knew you’d have a good time.

Once you pulled up, you were back to being stupid, wild teenagers again. Some people stayed in their outfits, but not many, and most had gotten comfortable long before they got there.

Once again, music cut through your thoughts as you entered. You flipped a switch instantaneously, smiling and waving at people who knew you as you passed through. You caught up in idle conversations here and there, laughing with your teammates and drinking back the lingering feeling you had earlier. But the longer the party went on, the lonelier you got.

You were so adored by everyone that nobody considered loving you. How does that even happen?

Maybe you were just notorious for turning girls down- claiming you didn’t want anything serious. It’s not like you slept around, either. You tried to be a gentleman, but the girls who always wanted you only wanted to change you. They wanted you for their little football player fantasies, and when they couldn’t have you they moved on to someone else. It was weird. You shined and sparkled like the night sky, but who was your moon to ignite the atoms that made you who you were?

Eventually, in your tipsy state, you ended up alone in a library, seeking solace from the throbbing of the world around you. Red solo cup in hand, slumped down on the white leather couch, you scrolled aimlessly through your phone. You didn’t hear the door creak open until it was shut, and someone sat on the couch next to you.

“Oh- sorry. I hope you don’t mind,” you turned your head to look at who had joined you, only to find Gale seated there.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, taking another sip and going back to your phone. “Trying to find quiet from the party?” You asked, not bothering to look up.

“Ah… yes. I wasn’t exactly expecting to receive an invitation and I’m quite dreading the fact I said yes and showed up,” he chuckled, and you saw him messing with his shirt like usual out of the corner of your eye.

“You do that a lot,” you remarked suddenly, and he looked confused.

“Apologies? I do what a lot?” He asked, head tilted at you.

“The shirt thing. When you get nervous you rub the corner hem of your shirt between your fingers.”

“You noticed that?”

You blinked at your phone, realizing what you’d said aloud. You didn’t mean it in a bad way, it was just an observation of his habits. After all, you had to stare at him while he talked about class politics and whatnot for hours during the semesters- you saw him do it all the time.

“I don’t.. sorry, I…” you cleared your throat, taking a sip of the drink in your cup with a small shrug. “Don’t mean it in a bad way, I guess. I just noticed it,”

“Oh. Okay.”

Gale pulled out his phone, knee bouncing as he got comfortable and assumed a position similar to yours.

“Congratulations, by the way,” he added after a second, and you weren’t sure what he meant.

“On what?”

“Being prom king. It was expected, but congratulations anyway,” he smiled over at you, and you returned it half-heartedly.

“Thanks. I have no clue who was up there with me, though,” you laughed slightly, though the confusion was genuine. Something felt so right about dancing there with that boy that you weren’t sure what it was. Fate, or simply that nagging longing in the back of your mind looking for someone to fill the void?

Gale was about to respond, but several of your teammates came barging in, all yelling and talking over one another.

“Dude! Lae’zel just got dared to jump in the pool from the roof and she’s gonna do it!” You finally made out, and your face changed as you ran out with them to watch her.

Chaos resumed and your thoughts were no longer your own again, instead they belonged to the teenage relevancy of idiotic decisions and crazed actions. When you all returned inside, dry, save for Lae’zel, you kept up with the party once more.

But your eyes kept flickering back to the library, and then around the room. Gale had such an interesting aura about him, you couldn’t put a finger on it. Then, your mind wandered and you wondered if you could tell who your mystery dancer was, like Cinderella’s prince.

You tried to recall the details of the masked man, the way his eyes creased with your jokes, laughing like you were the best comedian there could be. The way his lips turned with his emotions, covering but not concealing what he was truly thinking.

“Dude, did you see Gale showed up? We all thought he’d be all up in Mystra by now!” One of your friends cackled, and you laughed slightly, but not really wholeheartedly this time.

“You know that’s not really that funny,” you stated, and the looks you got were borderline dangerous. It was like jumping into a pit of snakes and stepping on their tails- you had stepped into hazardous territory with your challenge.

“What?”

“I said it’s not funny.”

“Are you serious right now? Since when did you care about Gale? We joke about him all the time!” That struck a nerve. The guy had been nothing but nice to everyone and this is how he got treated? You almost felt sick. But why now? Why did it suddenly matter?

“Just- drop it, okay? Let’s have fun without screwing people over,” you waved their discussion off and moved to play beer pong with some people. The party began to dwindle, and you caught Gale in a group of some people looking like he was enjoying himself. At least he had that going for him.

Eventually, there were only a few people left in the room, and someone had the bright idea to play spin the bottle mixed with truth or dare.

“Alright, we need some ground rules here,” Jen said as she folded her legs neatly while she sat on the floor.

“Either truth or dare, or you kiss the person who spun you,” someone else said, and everyone seemed to agree on that.

Shots were handed out and, with newfound confidence, you and the small group were enjoying yourselves. Stupid pranks were being pulled, dumb secrets were being untold, and things were getting heated. Kind of, at least. Some people had gone home, which left you, Wyll, Lae’zel, Jenevelle, Karlach, Astarion, and Gale. Astarion was just kissing everyone whenever he didn’t like the dare, Karlach was full-throttle choosing dare every time, Jen only picked truth until someone forced her to pick dare, and between Wyll and Lae’zel you couldn’t tell who was more balanced in choices. Though, Lae’zel had less clothes on than anyone so perhaps her scales were tilted. Gale, he was the odd one. He’d stay away from choosing to kiss someone and hadn’t kissed anyone at all. You realized you hadn’t either, and the two of you kept going back between truths and dares so nobody forced you to do so.

“Gods, this is getting boring! Someone needs to make out.” Astarion yawned, draped over Karlach with his shirt tossed off to the side.

Wyll spun the empty bottle in the center of your group and it landed on you once it finally slowed to a stop. Within seconds, he got a bright idea in his head. There was no way you’d end up kissing him, not in a million years, and Astarion wanted action. What better way to do so than messing with you?

“Truth or dare, mate,” he grinned at you, and you sighed. You hadn’t picked dare in a while, so it was time.

“Dare. Give it to me good, jackass,” you smiled right back at him and watched in abject horror as his grin turned into a smirk.

“I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven with…”

He paused, looked at the crew of people left, and then met Gale’s shy gaze. “Gale.”

“What?” You both asked in unison, almost making the same face at him.

“Go on. Or you can kiss me, but, I don’t think you want to do that,” he smirked, and you cursed everything in him that made him that way.

“You’re an asshole.”

“There’s a bedroom right around the corner, might as well take that one,” he ushered you two up, and you both begrudgingly stood. “Your timer starts... Now!” He closed the door after walking you inside and locked it almost immediately.

“Look, we don’t have to-“

“It’s alright,” Gale interrupted you, waving a hand to dismiss your concern as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll mess up my hair and shirt in a few moments and they’ll be none the wiser if you do the same.” He smiled, and you recognized the pain behind the eyes. Too bright to be looked at without burning, he sought nearly the same thing as you. “I’m only here as a joke anyway, right?” He chuckled sadly, shrugging. “You don’t have to make me feel like more of one.”

“That’s not—“

“I overheard you talking about me. Quite plenty of people forget that I, too, have ears. You all believe I’m imperiously deafened to the rumors you spread in the halls. I hear them all, you know. I know where they begin and I know the last person who’s been touched by them. There’s no stopping the wildfire that’s been set ablaze in my wake, the vicious jokes made in my name, the roughened edges I’ve created to save myself from it all. But please, I ask that you not twist the dagger any more than it’s already been plunged inside me.”

You blinked at him, not… exactly sure of what to say to that. As you decoded the poetic words in your mind, you understood his point clearer.

“I’m sorry, about all of that,” you began, sitting down beside him and messing with your hands. “I don’t really know why they—“

“You say it too.”

You cleared your throat and began again, “Why we… say all that stuff. It’s just bullshit to keep us entertained, I guess,” you shrugged, head low as you thought of all the people you indirectly hurt climbing your way to the top. How many others like him did you turn to gold with your Midas touch? Forever banning them to a life of solitude in your shadow, forcing them under your submission, and rarely quashing the arbitrary lies that were told under you? How many people had you turned into stone statues with your headdress of snakes? Those who claimed to identify as friends but ruined your peace in the process? Would you ever find out? Would you ever have the time to apologize for letting your kingdom go so cold as the heat of your infamy died down?

“It hurts, so you’re aware. Mystra.. she’s not what you all believe her to be. She’s quite the teacher, and she sees the potential that I have in her class,” Gale sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to do right by people, whether or not I’m put in positions of power as a sick prank. I could have declined, but who else would take my place? Who would have stepped up and made the changes for all of you like I had? I fight for the good and get treated like the dirt beneath everyone’s feet.” He coughed and then shook his head. “I know it’s not just you. But I heard you tonight, so right now it’s about you and everyone else, too. I don’t mean to discard these feelings on you but…” he trailed off.

“I tried defending you. I don’t think you’re a bad person and you definitely haven’t gotten as much recognition as you should have,” you started, trying to find the words. “I didn’t… get to know you, and just made opinions based on stupid rumors. I’m sorry. About that.” You cleared your throat once more, and a quiet hush fell between the space that separated you. He didn’t owe you a thanks for your apologies over your hurtful actions, and he wasn’t about to offer one, either.

“You’re really… uh… what’s the word?”

“Eloquent?”

“Yeah, eloquent. I see it.. now,” you smiled over at him and then looked to the floor once more.

“Thanks,” he returned your grin, and then quiet fell into the bedroom once more.

“Three-minute warning!” You heard Wyll call from outside the door, and the two of you groaned in unison.

“You have a girlfriend?” You asked him, and he shook his head no. “Are you… not into girls?”

“What-“ his face flushed and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Like, are you gay? I mean, it’s cool, there’s a shit ton of gay people at our school. I was just asking,” you shrugged.

“I… I’m not exactly..”

“Out of the closet?”

“Can you let the words come from my mouth before you finish my sentences?” He huffed, and you made the motion of locking your lips. “I do like women. But I also like men. And I like whatever is the in-between of it all,” he started again and then sighed. “To me, it’s more about connection and personality. I can have a romantic relationship with just about anyone, but it’s not because of their gender. It’s because of who they are as a person, do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you nodded, looking over at his shoes. A striking familiarity crossed in your mind, as you connected the shoes he was wearing to the man you’d danced with earlier in the night. You gazed up at his face, studying it intently.

“Do I have something on me?” He asked, wiping at his face.

“You’re him…” you replied, leaning closer toward him.

“What- who..?”

You gently grabbed his chin, turning his face towards your own as you studied the details of him. You couldn’t be mistaken, you’d recognize those eyes anywhere. You laughed slightly, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.

“What…” You could see it in his eyes, he knew exactly what you meant. But could he dare indulge in it? In the idea of you?

“The one I danced with tonight, the other royal…” you hummed, smirking softly as you leaned back again. “You knew it was me, didn’t you?”

He stuttered in an attempt to find a lie, an excuse, but gave up after a moment of embarrassment. “Who couldn’t?” He replied, lowering his head in shame.

“You know—“

“Just kiss me.”

You blinked, glancing over at him. He made eye contact with you, strong and unwavering, and you raised a brow.

“Don’t lead me on to something I know is never going to happen. Don’t set your sights on me and leave me high and dry. It’s not fair for you to make me feel a certain way and then hang me on your line of people you’ve caught in the traps you unknowingly laid. Please, just get it over with bec-“

You grabbed his face, pressing your lips together hastily. Why? Did you just want to get this over with so you could each move on?

You didn’t know him as well as your friends, but this aching feeling came bursting through your chest. It desired to be let go, set free into the world. You needed him, your other half, to balance you out. Something in you knew this wasn’t just a one-off moment to save him the heartbreak, you knew you were now tied to one another whether you’d like it or not. But you could pretend to be “getting it over with” for the sake of this interaction.

His hand steadied himself on your shoulder, and you wrapped an arm around his waist. Swiftly, you pulled him into you and onto your lap, your other hand on the back of his head to keep him there. He made a small noise you could akin to satisfaction, and you laughed against his lips. Your head tilted to the side, leaning up into him as the kiss continued. Your hands moved down to his sides, grabbing his waist tightly.

He broke it off after a second, his breathing heavy as he looked down at you. His eyes screamed love and lust all in one, wrapped in a delicate bow, those soft eyes of his and the lingering smile tying it all together.

“You…”

“Hm?” You tilted your head at him, bringing his chin down to grab his attention. He focused entirely on you, eyes connected and unbreaking.

“You’re really good at that…” he laughed nervously, adjusting the way he sat in your lap. You felt him up against you, and a sly smirk found its way onto your face.

“Yeah? You think so?” You asked, pulling his hips forward, hands slipping around to his ass.

“I mean, I have a practiced tongue with what I read, but..”

“A practiced tongue?” You laughed at him, squeezing where you could as you threw your head back.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” He whacked your chest, which only made you laugh more.

“What, you get practice rolling your r’s over those fancy words of yours?” You cackled, leaning up towards him once again.

“You’re so childish,” he tsk-ed, lowering his head down to you, your noses touching again.

“But you seem to be into it,” you claimed, raising the argument with him.

“This feels just… so high school,” he stated, and you tilted your head as to what that meant. He noted your confusion and continued, “Truth or dare, spin the bottle… you know how to ball, I know Aristotle…” he raised both eyebrows, hoping you understood the trope he was getting at.

You laughed again at his comment, shaking your head at him. “You’re so funny,”

“It’s true! Swear, scouts honor,” he leaned into you, brushing his lips against yours. Then, out of pure adrenaline, he said something he never would’ve imagined ever stating to anyone else. “I want you to touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto…”

You smirked at that, connecting your lips briefly. “You’re gonna have to stifle your sighs for that one,” you teased, kissing him again. He returned your kiss, allowing you to trace your lips down his neck.

“Times u-“ Wyll burst in, and then stared directly at both of you. You were rather unfazed by it, but Gale turned to stone in your arms. You continued kissing his neck, ignoring Wyll just… standing there. Hello? Say something!

“Fuck off, Wyll.”

“Yeah! Yep! I’m- ahuh!” Wyll turned back around and closed the door again, shell-shocked from what he perceived as a horror before him. Not that gay people scared him, but you were kissing Gale? He didn’t actually expect you two to be like that.

“Y/N-“ Gale pleaded, gently pushing at your shoulders.

“Hmm?” You switched sides, slipping your hands under his shirt and holding tight onto his waist.

“Please-“ He pushed again on your shoulders, and you got the hint. You pulled back and looked up at him, in awe of his beauty.

“This was really, really nice. But I don’t.. want to do this if it’s just to prove a point,” he slipped out of your hold and stood up, fixing his hair and his shirt.

“That’s not-“

“Again, spare me. Spare me from the horrors that will unfold from your pursuit of this. Whatever reason you might have, I don’t desire to be the object of any more jokes,” he cleared his throat, clearly holding back the pain he felt.

“Gale-“

“Please,” He begged, his voice quiet. He didn’t want to become a laughingstock if things went south.

“Okay, okay,” you put your hands up defensively. You stood, running a hand through your hair. He was about to leave, but you grabbed his hand before he could. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you paused, letting go of his hand as you looked down at him.

“But I do… want to get to know you. We can be friends, yeah?” You pulled out your phone from your pocket, holding it towards him to input his number. “Doesn’t have to be anything else. And I can probably get people to stop making rumors,” you offered, and Gale sighed at you.

“Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?” He asked quizzically as he inputted his number. What was that supposed to mean?

“It’s just a game-“

“But really,” he looked up at you, sighing once again. “I’m betting on all three for us two.” He handed your phone back, his hand slipping down to rub the edge of his shirt. He laughed a little bit at the idea of marriage. Gods, no. “No one’s ever had me, not like you. I don’t want things to go south if we head into things too strongly,” he pushed his hands into his pockets, all too aware of his anxious stimming. “I’d appreciate it if you’d get rid of the rumors. We can be friends, but that’s all I’d like for right now.”

“Can we make out every once in a while because I’m kinda getting the practiced tongue thing now-“ you joked, only to be met with Gale shoving you slightly.

“What did I just say, Prometheus?”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” You saved his number in your phone and then opened the door for him to leave. Skipping past everyone, you led Gale out to his car. “Uh.. who’s Prometheus? Asking for a friend, definitely not for me,”

“You don’t know who Prometheus is?” Gale stopped walking entirely to look at you with horror and hurt, a look worse than when he talked about the rumors. Jesus, this guy cared about literature more than anything.

“Is it an English club thing? I only ‘know how to ball’,” you recounted his former comment, laughing as he made a face of annoyance now, walking to his car without another word.

“Oh, come on! That was a funny sentence!” You followed him as he got into the driver’s seat, and you leaned against the window while he started the car. You knocked on the window, pouting at him softly.

He rolled the window down and you took the opportunity to reach in, open the door from the inside, and lean on the top of the car while keeping him from closing it again. “Don’t be mad at me, Dekarios,” you grinned at him, but that didn’t change the annoyance in his eyes.

“Is this how you treat all your friends?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, arms crossed tight over his chest now.

“Just the ones I really like…” you lowered yourself down towards his face, biting your bottom lip slightly. He pushed your face to the side, ignoring the temptation.

“I’d prefer if you liked me a little less, just for now,” he retorted, and you laughed at his joke wholeheartedly.

“I’ll try,” you nodded, hitting the top of the car as you stepped back and closed the door for him. “Get home safe, yeah? I’m going to send you my number.”

“I’ll try,” he copied, and you couldn’t help but want to kiss his pretty little face again and again and again and- okay, we get the idea.

As you watched him drive off, your heart felt a little less lonely. You weren’t technically dating, and it would take a goddamn long time before you’d get there, but you had a friend with hope for you. A not-so-more-than-friends, friend.

You entered back into the mansion with a stupid grin on your face that was instantly wiped away as you saw everyone staring at you.

“So, you made out with Gale, huh?”

“I actually fucking hate you guys,” you laughed as you rejoined the group, recounting the entire event that was getting to make out with Gale Dekarios.

Maybe it was the brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet endings, and brand new beginnings. You couldn’t tell what possessed you to be like that with him, and Gale wondered the same on his way home.

In a few years, where would you find yourselves? You hoped you’d be waking up to your poet wrapped in your arms, comfortable in the space you’d created together. But you were still in high school, and lots of things could change between now and then.

For now? You’d just be happy with what you had.

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anisespice · 9 months

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tall fem reader?

tall fem reader!!! thanks for the request, anon :)))

hq ver.

pairing: college!tr x tall!fem!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI, suggestive language, reader mentioned in chifuyu’s but not present, mild mild mild cat-call in hanma’s - just crack overall, honestly lol feel free to let me know if i missed anything!

notes: planned to make this a whole x whoever you want type beat, BUT figured just doing a headcanon broken into different heights would be more efficient lol plus MORE CONTENT - gonna make a pt. 2 with some hq men, but for now — t.rev! :))) hope you enjoy <3 !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

small — ♡

When it came down to a relationship, MIKEY wasn’t shallow enough to let physical appearances stop him from pursuing someone he wanted—He liked what he liked, fuck what anybody else had to say about it. The blonde never had issue with your drastic height difference, seeing it as more of a perk than anything else. His best friend was tall, so why not his girlfriend? It just meant whenever he walked down the street, he’d look like a total badass with his two attractive beanpoles at his side.

However, a lot of the buzz on campus mostly centered around Mikey’s height rather than yours. It never bothered him, but it certainly got you tight anytime someone tried to uplift you whilst putting him down in the process.

“A shrimp like him wouldn’t know how to handle all that leg of yours, mama. Lemme take you out tonight, show you a good time with someone who’s more on your level, whaddya say?”

Barf.

Mikey would merely give them a dead-stare; unbothered king. You, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to knock them down a size or two.

“First of all, your busted-looking ass could never be on the same level as me. Second of all, where my man lacks in height, he makes up for elsewhere, so he handles me very well, thank you. You’re probably the type to just shove it in without any sort of technique, thinking that’s enough to get a girl to finish. My man won’t bust once until I’ve came up to four times, the fuck can you offer me besides being six-foot? Hm? That’s right, not a damn thing. Remember that next time you talk shit, dirt-neck.”

Read him straight to filth. And God forbid Mikey had his gang with him anytime some scrub tried to spit game, best believe they’d dog the guy until he scurried away in humiliation. It always filled him with great adoration for you wherever you checked someone in his defense, your entire relationship giving off the same energy as that one meme with Kevin Hart’s character being protectively held by the lady. It’d been put in the groupchat a number of times just to tease the delinquent, but he’s unashamed at the fact you could easily pick his ass up. If anything, he was all for it, even requested piggy-back rides from you more often than his right-hand man—Draken’s back appreciates your sacrifice.

Now let someone try and spit game at him.

“Yeah, normally guys feel emasculated when their girlfriend’s taller than them, y’know? I’m surprised you don’t, though. No offense, [_____] just doesn’t seem like a good fit for you. I mean, must be tough to lay in the same bed, or even put her in your lap without feeling smothered or crushed. Wouldn’t it be much better to have someone a little smaller-”

“She could sit on me until my pelvis collapsed, and I would thank her. And, full offense, if I was single, still wouldn’t pick you even if you put a gun to my head. Keep my girl’s name out your mouth, you don’t deserve to breathe the same air let alone be on first name basis. Now, quit wasting my time—Do you have the notes from yesterday’s lecture or not?”

You don’t play about him. He don’t play about you. Period.

And as far as sharing a bed, cuddling or otherwise, Mikey was a sucker for being held like a damn squishmellow. Didn’t matter if you took up most of the leg space, dude would be wrapped around you like a python, so snug and warm you’d be lucky to even escape his grasp for food or the bathroom. Once he’s sleep, he’s SLEEP, and then you become the squishmellow.

“Mikey, I will be right back, turn me loose-”

“Zzzzzz…” out like a light. Drooling and everything, face smushed up against your boobs, just content. You’d think he’d been working the graveyard shift. And God forbid he ended up laying on top of you, sprawled out starfish style…you for sure weren’t going anywhere then.

Even if you expressed this dilemma after he woke up, the blonde merely yawned. “Just pick me up and carry me with you…”

“You’re smoking crack if you think I’m gonna haul your ass with me into the bathroom. I love you and all that, but we ain’t at the stage where I can comfortably use it with you in room.”

He shrugged. “Mm. Guess you don’t have to go that bad. G’night.”

“Mikey.”

“Shh, I’m sleeping…”

A gremlin. But, your gremlin. ♡

—

medium — ♡

CHIFUYU still can’t believe he bagged you, frfr.

There’d be moments where you’d catch him staring, as if he figured you’d disappear the second he took his eyes off you.

It’d get a little creepy sometimes, but it was endearing all the same. He wasn’t the shortest guy, though he wasn’t the tallest either, and standing next to you was a constant reminder of that. Not that he held any resentment toward you for it, he absolutely loved your height. However, there was always some form of insecurity that would resurface anytime someone called attention to it.

And today, his best friend and co-worker, Baji, would not only be the culprit, but an unlikely source of reassurance.

While they were stocking up inventory, the ravenette couldn’t help but notice the stool his friend was using to put a box in a particular high place. Wearing a mischievous grin, Baji pointed. “Oi. You should take that home with you. That way your girl won’t have to strain her neck when she kisses you.” He snorted, thinking he was the funniest man alive.

Normally, something that lame wouldn’t phase him, but guess today he was feeling a little more sensitive. With a grunt, the former blonde coolly spoke, “Maybe you should shut the hell up, and stock the damn shelves.”

“Whoa. What’s up your ass?” Baji furrowed his brows, walking over to lightly kick at the stool’s metal leg, making it jerk. Chifuyu sharply gasped, latching onto an empty shelf to steady himself. He exhaled, relieved, then shot a glare. But, Baji wasn’t perturbed.

Chifuyu sighed. “Nothing. I’m fine...”

“Fine my left nut. You don’t get short like that unless there’s something on your mind,” not the best way to phrase that, but at least he was genuine. Chifuyu rolled his eyes, coming down off the stool to brush past the ravenette.

“Not in the mood, alright?”

Baji was left standing there, dumbfounded.

The entire vibe had been thrown on its head, and he didn’t understand why. Awkwardly, he went back to assorting through the contents within the nearest box, bottom lip stuck out in thought as he briefly glanced at Chifuyu’s back mere feet away. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He knew not to pry, but curiosity always won gold in the end. Baji replayed the conversation in his head, using his impeccable deductive reasoning to draw his own conclusions.

And then suddenly, an epiphany.

Without a hint of warning, the ravenette quickly walked over and slapped his friend in the middle of his back. Chifuyu yelped, nearly dropping the box in his hands before whipping around to fix Baji with a wide, incredulous look. “T-The hell?!”

“So. She dumped ya, huh? [Sigh] Look man, don’t beat yourself up, a lot of guys fumble the bag from time to time. If ya need a shoulder to cry on…don’t use mine, but ‘tora might let you-”

“Hah?? What are you—[_____] didn’t dump me, dumbass!”

Baji blinked. “Oh. My bad, jus’ figured that’s why you’re in your feelings.”

“And you thought the best thing to do was to hit me, then tell me to cry on someone else?” Chifuyu squinted when the arsonist gave a shrug. He sighed again, carefully setting the box down. “It’s not about [______]. Well, technically. The other day we had lunch with a few of her friends. They apparently have been dying to meet me for some time. And things were going great until…”

Chifuyu trailed off, leaving Baji in suspense.

He grunted. “‘till what? Jus’ say it, bet it isn’t even that bad-”

“They were shocked to see her with someone who barely came up to her elbows.”

Silence filled the storage room. Chifuyu continued to keep his eyes trained elsewhere while his counterpart merely stared for what felt like hours, but only seconds. And then…

“Pfft.”

Chifuyu looked up and sneered, blushing furiously as he threw a chew toy from one of the boxes at the fiend. “Hey! Don’t laugh! Do you have any idea how humiliating that is??”

Baji, to his dismay, effortless caught the toy, even squeaking it a couple times just to annoy him more. Taking a moment to collect himself, the ravenette still wore his sharp grin as he spoke through airy giggles. “So? Who cares what they have to say?”

“I do! They’re [_____]’s friends, everyone knows their approval is just as crucial to the relationship as the parents…if not more.”

“Mm. Pretty sure you’re overthinking this.”

Chifuyu gave a sarcastic laugh, “Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Alright. Lemme school ya on how women operate when they get in their little cliques.” Baji dusted off his hands, missing the eye roll the former blonde gave once again. With his pointer held high, he declared, “If majority of the friend group is taken, they’re just being protective. No doubt they’ve been there for every heartbreak, every fight, ‘nd jus’ don’t think anyone’s good enough for [_____]. Jus’ gotta keep your head down, and don’t give ‘em any reason to be weary. Simple.”

With a slow, skeptical nod, Chifuyu pursed his lips at his fellow delinquent. It wasn’t unlikely, so at least he’s correct in that regard. However, the line between facts and feelings began to blur the further Baji continued.

“But, if majority of them are single, then you’re screwed either way —Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Wow, that’s so helpful. You sure schooled me, Baji-san.”

“‘m serious. You gotta watch out for the single ones in the friend group. They’re all passive aggressive, try to get under your skin, push your buttons. Then, before you know it, they’re in your head, get you so worked up only for them to turn around and play victim, saying you can’t take a joke, and now you’re the fucking bad guy! Classic textbook emotional manipulation—Don’t fall for it. ‘cause they’ve got it down to a science, I’m telling ya.”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen at the sudden intensity that overtook the room, taking a small step back when Baji jabbed his finger at him, as if he were warning him of some conspiracy. “Uh…you good?”

Baji took a moment’s pause. Then, he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, got a little carried away. All’s I’m saying is, don’t sweat. Lotta chick’s pick on the best friend’s new fling, t’s like a war tactic—Poking at our fragile egos ‘nd all that. But, seems like you did fine, otherwise you’d be crying all over ‘tora right now.” Baji shrugged.

Chifuyu blinked, now his turn to be dumbfounded. “Huh.”

He frowned. “‘Huh’? I jus’ gave you some killer, black-pilled insight on cracking their code of conduct, and all I get is a dry-ass ‘huh’? Tsk. I’m charging you next time, goddamn freeloader.”

Chifuyu glared, but softened soon after. After taking his words into consideration, the former blonde couldn’t help but feel lighter. “It’s just... didn’t expect that to actually make me feel better.”

Baji scrunched his nose. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean? Oi, don’t ever doubt my knowledge. It may be selective, but I got it when it counts. Besides, thanks to me you won’t take that stool home after all.”

“I wasn’t planning to take it home in the first place.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, elbows.”

“Hey!”

—

large — ♡

“Hey, baby, those legs go all the way up?”

It was moments like this where you detested not being able to blend in with the average crowd. Attention always seemed to gravitate toward you no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, like being covered in honey while trying to walk in front of a herd of bears. And it didn’t help that you were currently wearing heels tonight, accentuating your legs even more in the little, black cocktail dress you sported. You were headed to a party a mutual friend of yours was throwing, and you wanted to surprise your man by wearing the new Jimmy Choos he bought you, knowing how much he loved how your legs with the extra height on them—Evidently, so did the prowling degenerate on the streets.

You had elected to ignore them. HANMA seemed to have other plans as he came to a complete stop in his tracks, slowly turning around to walk up on the moron who had the nerve to open his mouth. Low, golden eyes gazed down at the waste of space, face calm but a murderous aura oozed off him like pheromone, suffocating the slimy bastard into submission as he attempted to shrink away. But, he wasn’t about to let him get away so easily.

A wide, eerie grin spread across his face. “Could’ve sworn I just heard you cat-call my girl right in front of me. But, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. Right?”

The guy nervously looked back for reinforcements but his buddies were already long gone. Hanma’s grin immediately dissolved from his face, kissing his teeth before grabbing the guy by the front of his collar and twisting. “Fuckin’ hate repeating myself.”

Hanma wound his arm back, dead set on knocking the guy into an early grave until you intervened at the last second. By grabbing onto the balled up fist, you brought it to your lips to place a tender kiss on the inked skin. You felt his muscles relax, but he still held the offender by his shirt, only slightly playing attention to you cooing in his ear.

“Baby, you promised no fighting tonight, remember?”

“I know, doll, but this fucker,” he shook the guy around in his tight grasp, unhinged grin making its appearance once more at the sound of him blubbering, “deserves to have his shit rocked for even looking at you. I’m just gonna teach ‘em a little lesson about manners, that’s all. I’ll be quick.”

You scoffed, “You and I both know you don’t do quick.”

Hanma snickered. “First time for everything, right?”

“Shuji.”

Tugging on his arm, you were able to redirect all of his focus onto you, sinister eyes melting into sweet caramel as his pupils dilated the second they locked on yours. It always did something to him whenever you came up to eye-level. Sure, you were already pretty tall but the heels nearly had you towering him. It gave him a weird sensation, one that made him want to drop everything and worship you like the deity you were. Especially in situations like this.

Hanma felt like the smaller one for once. It drove him insane.

You fixed him a stern look. “Drop him.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he discarded the guy onto the pavement like an old can, wild eyes eagerly watching you and waiting for your next request. Taking his free hand into yours, interlacing your fingers, you led the rest of the way by pulling him from the nobody now cowering near a bush, no doubt rethinking his life choices while you kept onward to your destination. You didn’t get all spruced up to not be seen tonight, and you’ll be damned if any more time got wasted on some loser he’d put in a coma after one hit. After a short moment of silence, you expected Hanma to be mad at you for not letting him knock someone’s teeth loose. But when you glanced back at him, you should’ve known you’d be greeted with absolute smugness as you shook your head in mirth.

You elected to ignore the obvious tent in his pants…but he’d surely plan for you to do otherwise later on.

#🍁allspice #🍁wasabi #CALLING ALL THEE STALLIONS 🗣️#*posts and runs*#tokyorev #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tr x reader #manjiro sano #matsuno chifuyu #hanma shuji #mikey x reader #chifuyu x reader #hanma x reader

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