#and dancing just whatever was so so nice. and i had my sneakers on Fit the outfit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charmercharm3r · 2 years

Text

Open (Passionate)

YJI

Masterlist

wc: 11k (absolutely unacceptable tbh)

Synopsis: It was new, you didn’t expect anything more than what he gave you. You should’ve expected less.

warnings: smut, softdom!jeongin, idol!verse ??, minor corruption kink?, crying kink (can't think of the name), degrading names, oral, just uhh sexual explicit content, I'm getting lazy with these warnings and just write with no thoughts or idea how it’s gonna come out so you're in for a real treat with this one

Part 5 of my 8 part series based off the album, “It Was Good Until It Wasn’t” by Kehlani, where each member of Stray Kids will have a song dedicated to them and whatever toxic relationship I can come up with.

Sweat rolled down your neck as your sneakers squeaked against the glossy floors of the dance room. The music was on full blast, making the walls vibrate as your body contorted to the rhythm and beat. You needed to get your head on straight, there was no room for error, not when the first show of your overseas tour was only a couple weeks away. You needed to feel the bass in your chest the way you would on stage, in front of thousands of people. This wasn’t just some music show where you perform in front of other idols, but in front of fans and others who adored you— others who wanted to see you fail.

Your company didn’t pin their groups against one another, if they did it wasn’t because of any malicious intent from the other groups but purely for engagement purposes. Everyone was so welcoming and so keen on making you the best you could possibly be. The company was doing a workshop for its’ idols, pairing all of them together to see what you could learn from one another. The lack of female idols and odd numbering of the ones they did have had you paired with a member of Stray Kids, Yang Jeongin.

He was kind, a good teacher, and maybe just a little bit awkward because you were the same age. With time, you started to grow on him. Jeongin started finding himself trying to catch you in the cafeteria, looking for you in the hallways, hoping to see when you’d scheduled to book one of the practice rooms for yourself. When he got your schedule down, he began bringing you coffee, sitting with you and chit chatting the way someone did to court. He was enamored by a member of the company’s newest girl group, he couldn’t stop himself from spending more time at work than usual— he was almost on Chan’s level.

Eventually, Jeongin worked up the courage to ask you on a real date when the both of you had the time. Granted, it didn’t last more than two hours because there were preparations for a comeback or costume fittings that needed to get done. But that didn’t make it any less fun.

He’d taken the liberty of preordering you a coffee at a shop down the street, taking it to go and enjoying a nice stroll with you through one of the forest-like pathways. When the two of you reached the end, you kissed him on the cheek, though rather close to his mouth that if Jeongin moved a centimeter to the left, you would’ve kissed him on the lips.

He was like a schoolboy all over again, excited by the smallest actions— figuratively and physically. His dick jumped when he felt your lips on his skin for the first time, it was all he could think about as he walked you back to the company building. And when he went home. And when he got in the shower. And when he tugged his half chubbed dick. And when he came all over the shower floor. And when he slipped a clean pair of boxers on in shame. Your lips were all his brain could imagine. Then when he was ready for sleep, he sent you a goodnight text and went to bed with your lips still on his mind.

Jeongin didn’t mean to fantasize about you, it just sort of happened. He thanked the heavens for pairing you two together during that workshop because now it gave him the chance to be seen with you and no one ask any questions.

After the kiss on the cheek, he got bolder, more confident now that he knew the feelings were mutual. “Running into you” by coincidence in the hallways became purposeful, he lingered for you in doorways, befriended your other members to keep tabs on where you were. There was a time where he didn’t see your name on the schedule for the practice rooms and went to ask the staff member in charge if maybe you’d just forgotten to write it down. When they told him no, he’d written his name down for the next available slot and called you, asking to practice with him.

How could you say no? Jeongin was sweet to you, he gave you great pointers whether it be dancing or singing or stage presence, not to mention he was your superior which meant you didn’t have much choice. Though, he didn’t use his status against you. To him, you were equals and on a leveled playing field. You were grateful for him and genuinely enjoyed his company.

That same day, he’d kissed you on the lips, unable to hold himself back anymore. You were sat face to face in the middle of the dance room, Jeongin on his knees and towering over you. “You’re gonna do great no matter what. You’re being too hard on yourself,” he’d said, tucking a piece of hair that stuck to your sweaty face behind your ear.

“If I’m not, I lose. I can’t lose, not when I’m so close,” you whispered back.

“Then tell me where you need me. I’m here to help you.” Jeongin leaned in closer, his knees touching the outside of your thigh. Your eyes stared up at him, round and so full of innocence that Jeongin couldn’t stop himself from caressing your cheek. Your pretty pink lips were puckered, just asking to be kissed. He could smell the cherry lip gloss that made them look even more plump, dying to taste it for real. So he did, he used both hands to pull you into him. It was a close lipped kiss, one that was soft and not meant to feel sexual. It wasn’t, but you also didn’t want to stop. When Jeongin pulled away, you whined the smallest bit at the loss of his lips on yours. That only fueled his imagination.

The small kisses escalated over some time. The safety of being alone in the practice rooms turned into quick hallway smooches, a sneaky peck in the cafeteria when you thought no one was looking. Eventually, he invited you over. None of the other members were ever present when you came, or they were hiding away in their rooms. Nonetheless, you never saw them. Jeongin escorted you to his room as soon as you’d stepped foot in the door, had you laid on his bed in no time, just savoring your lips.

That was as far as it had gotten, just kissing. As much as he loved kissing you, the instincts inside him wanted more. However he didn’t want to scare you off, he really does like you. So those make out sessions fizzled out and you’d return home late into the night. As soon as you were gone he’d shove his shorts down just enough to free his throbbing dick and close his eyes, thinking about your lips kissing down his neck, leaving lipstick marks across his chest until you reached his cock. Maybe there’d be another lipstick stain around the base of it, evidence that you could take him so well. He’d cum incredibly fast at the thought, every time you’d leave him alone.

It’s where you are now, still just kissing.

Your legs had finally given out on you, sending you falling to the wooden floors with a thump. The floor to ceiling mirror you faced made you want to puke, it was disappointing to see yourself completely out of energy and unable to keep going. How were you supposed to please the audience when you couldn’t even get through two hours of dance practice? You rolled onto your back, bringing your numb hands up to suppress the tears that wanted to fall.

Little to your knowledge, Jeongin was looking for you— and surprising to no one. He’d come across the dance room and peeked through the small window on the door just as you’d finished the number. He watched you sit in the ending pose for a few seconds, standing up straight and looking at yourself out of breath in the mirror before hitting the ground. You’d already toppled over before he could get the door open, unable to catch you in time.

You were too caught up in your thoughts and emotions to hear the door open and Jeongin call your name. The tears were never ending as he pried your hands from your face. He took a second to see how pretty you are when you cry, making doe eyes at you before pulling you into his chest and letting you sob. Jeongin cradled your upper body, sitting so that you could simultaneously lay into his lap. He’d said all the right things, had just the right timing, by the time you stopped crying he looked like your knight in shining airforce ones.

He was just so easy to be around, so easy to talk to that it made you want to spill every single one of your secrets to him. While he did everything he could to stop himself from doing exactly the same. So he just let you cry— for how long, he wasn’t sure. But by the end of it you felt dehydrated and lethargic, Jeongin opted to carrying you off the floor and letting you rest on the nearby bench while he grabbed you more water. When he came back, you were asleep. He swore he’d never seen you so beautiful before, at peace and worry-free. There was no way in Hell he was going to wake you up. He didn’t need to, you’d awoken a few minutes later to the feeling of him brushing his fingers through your hair. He didn’t feel you stir, “I could get used to this kind of treatment,” you whispered.

“Drink,” he all but shoved the water bottle into your mouth without letting you sit up. He held it to your lips and held the bottle steady while you sipped on it. When you finished you scooted up the bench to lay your head in his lap and look up at him. His slender fingers drifted from your hair to your cheek, gently caressing as he smiled back down. “What’s happening in that pretty little head of yours?” Jeongin asked after a few moments of you two silently appreciating one another’s company.

You hesitated answering for a second, unsure if you should be discussing your feelings on debuting with your superior. “You can talk to me,” he pressed. The words of affirmation made you twist onto your side, facing your body towards him and nuzzling your head into the crook where his thigh met his waist. The soft material of his sweats and plush thighs made for the perfect pillow.

“Did you feel like this? Before you knew you how big your group would be?” Your voice was low, scared of anyone walking in and hearing you speak timidly about your impending career.

“Every day,” he answered, fingers carding through your hair again. Sighing, Jeongin leaned back against the bench and looked at the two of you in the mirror. Despite the moment being one that required him thinking with his head, his dick spoke louder. He couldn’t dig his mind out of the gutter where he pictured you in this position, kitten licking him through his sweats. How you’d palm him through the material, eventually dipping your hand in but still not beneath the boxers, how hard he’d cum under your touch.

“Does it get easier?” your sad voice broke him from the dirty thoughts.

“No,” his honesty made you peer up at him. “It never does. But it pays off eventually.” Your eyes were glossy, still not completely dry as they urged him to continue. “When you get that small moment of happiness, it all feels worth it.”

“I shouldn’t be complaining. You had it harder than me.”

“Don’t say that. It’s hard on anyone, just in different ways. If anything, you have it the worst. No one treats girls very nice. I’m proud of you.” The last four words really struck a chord with you, shooting out of his lap to gawk at him. “Shit— please don’t cry again. I didn’t mean to—“

Jeongin never got to finish that sentence. Your lips cut him off before he could. He blushed at the action, you initiating the kiss sending the blood rushing straight to his cock again. The relationship started off transactional, back at the workshop. He teaches you, maybe you teach him. What difference would it make now if you were to slip your hand up his thigh? Jeongin reacted all the same, thinking about you in ways that would make him the laughing stock of his friend group because he can’t look at you for two minutes without picturing you naked. Now, as you did just that— run your hand up his clothed thigh, give the muscle a light squeeze before letting just your fingertips trace the outline of his hardening bulge— Jeongin’s head went completely blank. His mouth dropped slightly open and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue in, running it over his. He gasped, finally finding strength to grip at your waist and tug you into his lap.

Readjusting and throwing one leg over him, you let yourself sit fully on top, cunt just hovering over where he wanted you the most. Your fingers found haven in his hair, gripping tightly at the base of his neck as his mouth ravished you. The kisses were sloppy, untrained only because of how eager he was, whereas you wanted to take your time. So you pulled away, Jeongin out of breath while you pulled his hair to expose his neck to you, reattaching your lips almost instantly while his eyes stayed shut.

You sucked gently at the skin, gliding your tongue soothingly over after and lightly blowing air on the wet spots. It made him shiver and goosebumps rise on his skin, hands tightening on your hips. Trailing your hands down his chest, you traced your fingers through the lines of his abs, pressing the tips into the muscle to feel him flex underneath you. He liked that, letting out the softest moan when your lips made their way to his collarbones.

He was so close to heaven, taking in your scent and the way your body felt against his. But heaven got ripped from his hands too soon. You sat up, getting off of him and standing. His eyes shot open just in time to see you spreading his knees and fall onto your own.

“W— what’re you doing?” He asked stupidly.

“What’s it look like? Returning the favor,” you looked up at him through your lashes. Though your words implied something much more adult, the way you looked at him was almost innocent. Almost.

Jeongin forgot to respond when you pulled him in by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to lean down to kiss you again while your other hand untied the drawstring of his sweats. Feeling you tug at the waistband, he confusedly replied, “I never did any favors for you, though?”

You shook your head, “you do.” You let go of his shirt, softly pushing his chest to lean back. “You help me practice,” both hands came to the waistband of his pants, “you help me with singing,” pulling them down to his ankles, “take night walks with me.”

You kissed the inside of his knee, kissing up his thigh painfully slow that his breath hitched in his throat. “You’re so sweet to me, Jeonginnie.”

It felt all too real when he could feel your breath centimeters away from his cock, only his underwear acting as a barrier. He breathed harder now, anticipating what you were to do next as you kept telling him pretty things. “Letting me cry to you about anything and everything. Is it because you like when I cry?” The question was so out of place, but so perfectly timed.

You caught him.

Jeongin let his head fall back, eyes screwing closed tighter as your hands trailed back up just to stop at the underwear’s elastic. “Yes.”

“Do you want to be the one to make me cry?” He could feel you slowly lifting the waistband, not touching his skin.

When he didn’t answer, too entranced by your body heat and words, you pulled his underwear down further. He lifted his hips so you could take them off him, but sat back down when he realized you weren’t going to just yet. “Talk to me, Jeonginnie.” You voice was still so normal, almost as if you were playing with him.

“Y— yes.” He couldn’t look at you. If he did, he was sure he’d cum right then and there.

However he was relieved when you didn’t make him, humming and tapping his hip to lift so you could take off the undergarment. His cock sprang and slapped against his lower stomach, muffled by his t-shirt. Your hands pulled his calves closer, bringing his butt to scoot towards you.

You let out a small gasp, “oh, wow Jeonginnie. You have such a pretty cock!” He bit his lip hard to keep from moaning at the compliment, almost drawing blood.

The tip of his cock was an angry red, already leaking precum as it throbbed. He could really feel the heat of your breath now, so warm and inviting. Jeongin gripped at the edge of the bench, knuckles turning white. You blew again lightly on the head, smiling as his stomach contracted and dick twitched in self restraint. You giggled, “mmm. Can I taste?” His eyes snapped open to see you licking your bottom lip, already swollen from kissing him. You bat your eyelashes at him, waiting patiently for his consent. “Yes.”

Again, you kissed up his bare thighs, sitting up on your knees to hover over his aching cock. Jeongin watched with his eyes half lidded, doing everything he could not to buck his hips up. He failed when you finally got to his length, gently taking hold of it and standing it up so you could press a single kiss to the head. Giggling again, you pushed his hips back into the seat with your free hand. Sighing, Jeongin did his best to relax into your touch.

Then finally, you licked a stripe up the center of his cock, making Jeongin throw his head back again and let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He forced his eyes open now, watching you spit into your hand to grab hold of his cock again. You held him tightly, but pumped him at another painfully slow pace. Anchoring yourself to him by his thigh, you sunk your mouth onto his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you took in as much of him as possible. He was incredibly hard and so, so hot to the touch.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered, not meaning to speak his thoughts out loud.

Pulling off him with a pop, you responded, “keep talking, baby. How long?” Instantly you engulfed him again. Your tongue swirled around the tip, occasionally pressing into his slit and tasting his bitter-salty liquid.

“Ever since— fuck!— The workshop,” he stuttered as you traveled down to suck on his balls, sucking them in and pushing them lightly with the muscle in your mouth, not stopping your hand pumping his length.

“Mmm, fantasized about me for that long?”

He finally had his spasming hips under control, only for you to pinch the flesh on his inner leg near his dick. “Ah! Fuck, don’t do that! I’ll cum,” Jeongin grabbed onto your hand. Stopping the ministrations to his balls but still pumping his cock, you looked up at him, guiding his hand onto the back of your hair. “Make me cry first.”

Such a devilish smile, even more hellish words, he couldn’t resist. You pulled your hand from his cock and placed them both behind your back, wrapping your lips just around the tip and swirling your tongue again. He wasn’t sure what you meant, but then you bobbed up and down, taking so much of him in your mouth that you gagged— and god, did he love the sounds you made.

Gripping harder onto your hair by the roots, Jeongin started guiding you up and down his cock. You hollowed your cheeks as tightly as you could, letting him use you.

He doesn’t know how you did it, but you somehow managed to firm your tongue, letting it be the primary source for slick as he began pushing and pulling harder on your scalp. It was an accident, but Jeongin pushed too hard and made your mouth hit the base of his dick and cause for you to gag again. The vibrations from your throat ran all through his body like electricity. He wanted to do it again and again and again.

So he did. He firmly planted both feet on either side of your body and both hands into your hair to hold you steadily above his cock. Raising his hips testingly, Jeongin thrusted into your mouth, seeing how deep in your throat he could hit. When you gagged a third time, he knew he was going to do exactly what you asked; make you cry.

The grip on on your head got tighter somehow as he thrusted into your mouth harder, faster. You couldn’t stop your gag reflex but he didn’t give you enough time to fully contract your throat around him before he pulled out and pummeled into you again. Wet sounds and lewd gags filled the dead space of the practice room, barely muffling Jeongin’s pants and groans.

He was such a sight to behold, forehead matted with sweat and veins in his strong arms protruding as his eyes fixed on where he lost himself in your mouth. His jaw hung slack and his own tongue poked at the inside of his cheeks that were flushed pink. You couldn’t look away and that only made him go harder, seeing your doe eyes starting to well up. And when you finally closed them, the tears fell. They didn’t stop falling, Jeongin’s cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly finally had you crying. He loved every second of it, as did you. You finally broke, just wanting to please him and make him cum. No other thoughts in your head except for him. You whined loudly around his cock and that made him shoot his load straight down your throat. He held your head buried to the hilt against him, nose pressed into his pelvis as you tried to swallow every bit of cum he gave you. But you couldn’t, there was just too much and your mouth was so full of his cock that it dribbled out the corners of your lips and down your chin.

Jeongin let out a big sigh, slumping against the seat and pulling you from his softening cock. He almost got hard again at the sight between his legs. Your hair was a mess, eyes red and puffy with makeup running down your cheeks. His cum covered the entire lower half of your face, he couldn’t stop himself from smearing it around with his fingers.

Without taking his eyes off you, he blindly reached for his phone, opening the camera app. “Can I?” He asked. You nodded, head still blank.

He took a few, first just you looking up at the camera. Then one with his hand under your chin, another with his thumb pressing against your cum covered lips, and lastly swiping some of the cum up and making you suck it off his fingers. The thought of using the pictures later to jack off to made his dick jump again, but he was too spent to keep it up.

You still sat between his knees, waiting for him to tell you what to do next. “So beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you even though you were covered in him. He could taste himself, not that he minded much— he couldn’t when his head was so clear but so full of you.

When he broke the kiss, Jeongin hiked his pants up and ran across the room to grab wipes from the cabinet to clean you with. It was a nice gesture, however you were aching now, too, pressing your legs together tightly as you were still knelt on the floor. He noticed this, smirking.

“Stay over tonight.” The suggestion made your eyes widen. It was already risky leaving his dorm so late into the night, but leaving in the morning when all of the other members would be awake to see? Forget the members— the general public would be up to see you leaving his house in yesterday’s clothes. “Just for tonight,” he pressed, “I want you to stay.”

“But what if we get caught?” You kept your voice low, still afraid of passerbyers even though the noises he was making earlier was absolutely louder than this conversation.

“We won’t. I won’t let it happen.” You hardly needed any more convincing.

That was the first night he’d fucked you. It was done as quietly as possible, which even then he was sure Minho next door would have something to say about it at work the next day. Even still, Jeongin lived up to more than expectations, keeping your tears running for hours.

Minho did— “next time, put a sock behind the bed frame. I’d rather not hear you going at it against the wall I sleep against.” This got him more teasing from the rest of his group when word spread between them the youngest was now bringing people over.

“When’d they leave? I didn’t hear anything last night?” Felix asked as the eight of them stretched in the same practice room.

“Erm, probably—“ Jeongin glanced at the clock, “twenty minutes ago?” The group erupted into chaos, Jeongin only caught pieces of questions asking who it was and how were they going to lock the door without the passcode. Rest assured, he’d given you the door code before leaving.

By now, you were supposed to leave for tour in one week. Since that first fuck, Jeongin took you anywhere he could, bathrooms, practice rooms, vocal rooms, janitor closets, your bedroom, his bedroom. The options were limitless with him. He didn’t even need to go out of his way to look for you anymore, somehow you always found each other. No one outside of your two groups knew about the little thing happening between you, but he didn’t try to hide it. Your two groups became closer friends, exchanging numbers and getting lunch together when possible. It was the closest thing to a relationship Jeongin proposed, never breaking that friendly barrier when he was in public— by public, meaning the company— with you. He still had your routine down by heart, still lingered the halls for you, but now it was because he had more than an infatuation. Jeongin was obsessed.

So much so that it was to the point he was fuming when you reminded him you were to leave in a few days, and for such a long period of time. That’s what made him start to pace around your bedroom as you laid out clothes onto your bed to be packed away.

“You can’t leave me now!” he exclaimed from

the foot of your bed. “I need you here.”

“I’m not missing this tour because you can’t go two months without getting your dick wet,” you retorted, not looking at him.

“It’s not about the sex—“

“Like hell it’s not about the sex,” you raised your voice slightly, causing him to stop in his tracks. “That’s all you ever wanted from me in the first place.”

Jeongin furrowed his eyebrows, limbs going numb in disbelief. “How could you say that?” he whispered, hurt. It was true he’d imagined you in his bed thousands of time before you were actually there, but it didn’t change that he cared about you as a person.

“That’s what it feels like.” The clothes were uninteresting now that you’d opened this can of worms with him. You could see his cheeks tinting as the gears began to click.

“Does it still feel like that?“

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

He strode over to you, kneeling next to your bedside and taking your hand. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Tears started to sting at your eyes, the bottled emotions and stress catching up. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Jeongin was at a loss for words. He couldn’t fathom

the idea he made you feel so worthless. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” was all he could think to say.

His words made you pull your hand away and step off

the other side of the bed. Looking at you confused, Jeongin stood up. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You unconsciously wiped the hand he was holding on your lounge pants, “you didn’t deny it.”

“Did you just wipe me off—“

“You. Didn’t. Deny. It,” you repeated, sterner this time. He was so helplessly confused at your sudden anger. So he tried to stay composed, “deny what? Wanting to have sex with you?”

“No, Jeongin. Only wanting me for sex.”

“I’m lost. If I wanted to, I could’ve fucked anyone, but I didn’t want to. You initiated the sex stuff with me first,” the words stunned you for a second. Seeing the confusion, he continued. “The first blowjob in the practice room? Was that not you making the first move?”

“I’m going to ignore you inflating your own ego by acting like I should be grateful you ’chose me’ because I’m not. Are you saying it’s my fault I feel like this?” The tears wanted to fall. But you wouldn’t let yourself, he’d enjoy seeing you cry. It would mean he’s won, and you’ll be damned if you let him win.

Jeongin felt himself getting angrier, why weren’t you understanding him? Why were you mad when he was clearly right? Does he not remember the events correctly? Because the pictures of you covered in his cum proves otherwise. But still, you were even more upset now that he’d brought that up.

“That’s not what I meant,” he tried to stay rational.

“Then what did you mean?” You didn’t wait to come up with a response. Even though you were running on impulse, it didn’t lessen your feelings, they were completely valid. He didn’t try to hide his sexual attraction to you, but he didn’t try to prove it was something other than that as well. But how were you to tell him that?

“I— I don’t really know. But either way, you were the first one to start.” He was caught in a corner, solely putting up a fight because he didn’t want to be wrong.

“And that makes the way I feel wrong?”

“I never said it was wrong!” He yelled now, frustrated that you’d just kept pushing him and pushing him.

“But you don’t understand why I feel this way?” Your tone was mocking, only making him even more mad. “Jeongin, I feel like a fucking booty call. And I can’t escape it because you’re always there—“

“Do I not treat you right afterwards, though? I always clean you up and get you water.” It was a shitty excuse, he knew that. This was just an argument he wasn’t giving up without a fight.

You shook your head, balling your hands into fists. “It’s not about the goddamn aftercare, for fuck’s sake! You only find me when it’s about work or sex. There’s nothing else I’m good to you for, apparently!”

“I’m busy with work! You know that, you’re in the same position.”

“But here you are, telling me I’m not allowed to go on tour because you ’need me.’ Right? If you're too scared of commitment just say so! I'm over this.” You got him there. He did say that, and now there were no more excuses. Jeongin fell silent. “I can’t breathe around you.”

So many thoughts raced through his head, but not a single one was enough to form the pain he felt in his chest. He knew he was wrong, but the need to prove himself right was too great, even if that meant hurting you. Even the obsession with you and your entire being wasn’t enough to overpower that. Because that’s what you were to him— an obsession, something that could happen to anyone and be about anything.

“I’m going. So you tell me—“ you walked around the bed and stood in front of him. Jeongin towered over

you, something you usually loved because it made you feel small and safe. But right now, you feel powerless. “Tell me to go. If you ask me to stay, I might do it. Jeongin, I need you to tell me to go.” The anger within him dissipated. The realization of what he wanted and what he has made him dizzy. Maybe you were right, the space might be good for you and him both. Maybe because you were there with him every day, he thought what he was feeling was more than infatuation.

But the way his heart pounded at the thought of you being away for so long, it hurt. Conflicted, he said the only thing he could think of, “I… I lo—“

“Don’t say you love me.” You shook your head, looking down at your feet because if you looked at him when he said those three words, you’d let him win.

It was a shitty move, a crap shoot at power dynamics when he reached down and cupped your chin to make you look at him. Your eyes were one blink away from letting the dam break. “I love you. Please, don’t go. I want you to stay.”

You didn’t let it. Backing away from him and his touch, you forced your eyes to stay open and not let a single tear fall. Jeongin dropped his hands to his thighs, jaw slightly loosening, eyebrows furrowing and heart falling into his stomach.

“You’re so selfish.” Turning your back on him, you walked to your bedroom door and opened it. He stood in the middle of your room with no more excuses and no more reasons to get you to stay. When you looked back at him, the look of defeat littered his face. “You said it yourself,” you sniffled. “You could fuck anyone you want. So go fucking do it.”

“You know I don’t want that,” he tried to reason. But you’d made up your mind.

“You don’t know what you want. Go figure it out. You’ve got two months.”

“Y/N, please. Don’t make me leave like this.” Jeongin stepped towards you, reaching for your face to caress but you looked away. His touch would’ve completely broken your walls.

Without looking at him, anywhere but him, you let one tear roll down your cheek. In a whisper, you said, “I can’t breathe. Please… Leave.”

Jeongin backed away just a step, taking in the sight of you in what is supposed to be a comforting place where he’s had you so many time and in a much different situation. He’s decided to do as you said for once and go. Before he fully step through the door, he faced you again. “I do… love you.” When you didn’t respond, he left.

As soon as you heard the front door shut, you fell to your knees, sobbing. You didn’t hear through the pounding of your heart in your ears that one of your group mates came, crouching next to you and letting you cry into her embrace.

The day you were supposed to leave for the first stop of tour was the hardest. You didn’t cry at the airport, but as soon as you were able to get up and use the restroom on the flight, you bawled into crumpled up toilet paper, thanking the engines for being loud enough to drown you out.

Though, it did get easier. The shows went off without a hitch. Of course, you were the queen of self criticism despite the cheers and encouraging words you got from fans and staff and your other group members. It wasn’t until only a few shows were left of the tour did you remember the situation you were to come home to. Why did you have to befriend your coworkers and why did you have to give them your phone number? Because now, Hyunjin’s name was lighting up your phone.

He’s being a fucking idiot. I’d rather you hear it from one of us.

Attached was an image of a pair of panties tangled between what you knew were Jeongin’s bed sheets. You’d been wrapped up in them so many times, it was unmistakable.

If he asks, you definitely heard it from me. Here for you <3

Hyunjin’s kind words made it feel as though you had allies, friends in a place that was notorious for fakeness.

“What a manwhore.” The eldest of your group, Sua, exclaimed from over your shoulder.

“Can't blame him, it's exactly what I told him to do,” you admitted.

“You should do the same.” She nodded, smiling mischievously.

Locking your phone, you tossed it onto the bedside table of the hotel room. “Who would I be doing it for? Him? Not like he’d care anyways.”

“I guess you’re right. It would be nice to get revenge, though. Make him see what he’s missing.” She laid her head on your shoulder, holding your hand comfortingly.

“He’s not missing me.”

Sua hummed, “that’s not what I heard.”

This made you sit up, look at her confused. “What do you mean?”

“Seungmin was worried about him so he asked me what was happening between you two. I told him about that night and he might’ve spilled that Jeongin kind of…” she trailed off, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. You nudged her ribs. “Seungmin was at their dorm when Jeongin brought a girl over and he said your name.”

You were confused. “…Okay?”

“He said your name. During the deed. Your name.”

“When was this?”

“Literally yesterday! It’s probably that same girl’s panties.”

The idea of him being with another girl made your stomach churn in anger. You had no right to be mad, he was just doing what you told him to do. But even so, you wanted to claw your heart out of your chest. “It doesn’t matter. You heard what he told me that night. If he really did… love me… he wouldn’t have slept with anyone else in the first place. I'm too open with him for him to be open with me.”

“Y/N!” Sua stood on her knees, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you. “Clearly, your pussy is so good that he’s thinking about it thousands of miles away. If that isn’t love then I don’t know what is.”

“I think you’re the one that needs dick. You’re talking like a crazy person,” you laughed, bringing her back down to sit. “We aren’t even dating. I never expected him to stay loyal… or whatever it is that we were doing.” Sua pulled you to lay your head in her lap, comfortingly brushing your hair from your face. “It still hurts, though.”

“That’s it. We’re going out.”

You were in no position to argue with her. That’s how you ended up at a club, hiding your face behind a mask but wearing the skimpiest outfit you brought overseas. Somehow you’d both managed to leave the hotel without alerting your manager. A cute boy bought you and Sua drinks, brought you to the dance floor and offered you a good time. Sua gave you the okay to bring him back to your hotel room. It was fun, truth be told. But it was unfamiliar, it didn’t feel like him. Still, it made you forget. Even if only for the night. When you were through with him, you asked him to leave before getting in the shower and washing off whatever disgusting cologne you were drenched in, it was sickening.

The clock in your hotel room read 3:30 a.m., but you weren’t sure what time it was back home. You still hadn’t responded to Hyunjin, deciding now was as good a time as any.

Don’t worry, I'm coping. Appreciate you, though <3

You pulled your sleep shirt down just enough to expose the reddening hickey whatever-his-name left just below where your bra would sit, taking a picture not showing your face or cleavage and sending it to Hyunjin. That was for sure getting back to him.

Sure enough, it did.

He blew up your phone an hour later. You’d settled on muting his contact all together and turning off your read receipts. Of course you were going to look at what he sent you, you just had to see the hypocrite in him show itself in writing.

Unlucky for you, he admitted to it. Though most of the notifications from him were missed calls. He only sent a few texts, saying how sorry he was and that he was going to wait for you at your dorm.

Don’t, was all you sent back during the days leading up to your coming home.

You were tired, drained, but still fulfilled from being able to see and spend time with so many people who supported you. At least he was right about one thing, all the pain and tears were worth those few moments of happiness. The happiness was taken from you too soon.

Jeongin sat on the edge of your bed, eyes sunken and hair in disarray. He stood as soon as you opened the bedroom door, straightening out his t-shirt and gym shorts.

“Are you blind, too? I told you not to come here,” you muttered, closing the door behind you and rolling your suitcase into the corner of the room.

“What do you mean ‘too?’” Whatever he was planning to say once he saw you disappeared completely from his brain. He had a whole speech planned out, he was going to tell you how he couldn’t go through with sleeping with that girl and how he deserved the bad karma when you were with another man. However it didn’t seem like you were in the mood for the clearing of his existential crisis.

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t be bothered to deal with your hurt feelings.” Your tone was cold, colder than Jeongin’s ever heard and sure as hell has never been on the receiving end of.

“Say it, don’t hold back now.”

Dropping your backpack from your shoulder and letting it fall to the floor, you stepped around him nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t even there. “You really are a manwhore. I knew you couldn’t keep it in your pants. Remind me next time to never take anything you say seriously.” Jeongin watched you unload miscellaneous items, not bothering to look at him while you insulted him.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” he tried to defend himself.

“No, you were just casually moaning my name in the middle of the night because what, you missed me?” You threw down whatever was in your hands and stood tall before him. It was the most confident you’d felt about yourself in front of him, not wanting to show how badly he’d hurt you. “Yeah, I did.”

He took a step closer to you, reaching for your hand but pulling away. “I missed you a lot. I didn’t sleep with her. Got my dick sucked, sure, but no sex.” If he is anything, Jeongin is honest, you’ll give him that. It doesn’t make his infidelity hurt any less.

“You really do have a way with words, don’t you?” Noticing you cringe, he looked down at his feet, trying to think of something to say that would make you see he really was trying.

“It wasn’t good head,” he admitted shyly, kicking his feet at the floor. You laughed loudly, throwing your head back and running an exasperated hand through your hair. He couldn’t tell if you were laughing because it was funny or if you were making fun of him. Either way, the situation made him crack a smile, just happy to hear your laugh again. “I didn’t even cum. As soon as I said your name, I realized I didn’t even ask for hers and didn’t want to. Asked her to leave and went next door to sleep on Chan’s couch. Kinda pathetic, to be honest.”

Your laughter died down as you remembered that you were supposed to be mad at him. “That is pathetic,” the smile dropped from your face, his too as you sat on the edge of the bed. Jeongin followed you quickly, sitting beside you.

“I don’t blame you for sleeping with someone else,” he said softly, hoping you would just look at him.

You didn’t as you replied, “I was never sorry. Don’t try to make me feel bad, I already did enough of that before I left.”

The events of the night he last saw you came rushing back to the forefront of his memory, making him wince at the way he’d treated you. It made sense to him eventually, after talking to Chan and Changbin about it, Jeongin understood why you felt the way you did and wanted to make it better. “You treat her like she’s a secret to hide. If you really like her, cut the shit. Otherwise she’s gonna find someone else to treat her how a girlfriend deserves to be treated,” Changbin had told him only after getting a much louder and vulgar earful minutes beforehand.

Jeongin scooted off the bed, falling to his knees in front of you. “You’re worth so much more to me than just sex. I’m sorry I didn’t get that earlier.”

It was an unusual sight, Jeongin on his knees with eyes big and pleading for you to listen. You almost gave in. “Then why bring her home at all? You know she left her panties in your bed, right?”

“What?!” He almost yelled, making you shoot your eyes up at him, startled. “I didn’t even take them off her!” You were just as confused as he was. You knew he was a clean freak, always making sure dirty clothes went in the hamper and nothing was left out of place. Every time he’d get into bed he made sure to change out of his outside clothes, ultimately extending so that he made sure you did too. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill Minho,” he said after a minute of filling in the mental blanks. You raised an eyebrow at him to continue. “Stupid of me to assume he’d fuck in his own room, right? Karma or whatever.”

The laughter that echoed through your room was one that Jeongin had missed dearly, a sound you didn’t think he’d be the cause of. He laughed with you, not taking his eyes off you for a second. His heart skipped a beat when you leaned forward and let your head fall into your lap, bumping lightly against his. Even just the littlest bit of contact, he felt his whole body tingle— dick included. The teeniest bit of affection made it harden to half a mass.

Jeongin couldn’t help but breathe in your scent again, reaching up to gently pat your hair as the laughter died down. Sitting up slightly, you were face to face with him again, so close you could feel his breath on your cheeks. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, too. The proximity after being gone for so long from him made you stare at his lips, so pink and pretty while he searched in your eyes. “Let me make it right,” he said, holding a hand out to cup your cheek. You let him, feeling sparks beneath his fingertips wherever he touched.

Time felt like it skipped when you leaned in to kiss him again, pulling him up so he sat tall on his knees and flushed against your chest between your legs. It fast forwarded to the part where you were both already naked and spread out on the bed, Jeongin’s lips greedily attached to your neck.

You wriggled under him, breathing heavily as he held both your hands pinned above your head with just one of his hands. His free one tweaked your nipple, making a whine slip from your mouth. He nipped and kissed down the column of your throat before pulling back and examining your chest. It was still lightly bruised from the other man. Worried, your eyes snapped open to see why he’d stopped. The grip he had on your wrists tightened, eyeing the one particularly prominent mark you’d sent a picture of to Hyunjin.

“Jeonginnie?” You said quietly. It was just the way to rile him up, innocent and breakable.

“Did it feel good?“ His tone dropped, deeper than you’d ever heard it even before, eyes not straying from the mark.

It made the aching between your legs hurt more, your hips bucking up slightly to look for friction to ease yourself. But no luck, Jeongin pulled his body from yours, leaving you cold but still bound by the wrists. “D— did what feel good?”

“When he touched you. Did he make you feel the way I do?” His free hand traced a fingertip up the center of your belly, skipping over your chest and tapping timidly at your throat.

“N— no! Only you make me feel good.” He liked that answer, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing just enough to get you to whine. Bending down, he kissed you again, much more forceful and dominating than he usually was.

Pulling away, Jeongin released your neck, moving his kisses from your lips to trail down the center of your chest. He didn’t like seeing you covered in marks that weren’t his. He also didn’t like the idea of you fucking another guy, but he couldn’t fault you either way.

He ran his hand down the center of your chest, lips following and stopping between your breasts. However his hand kept going, just barely grazing your mound. You could see the frenzy behind his eyes, not moving from the mark that wasn’t his even though his hands seemed to be moving on their own. He readjusted himself and slotted his knees between yours, spreading his own that made you expose your center. When you gasped at the cold air hitting your heating core, he shot just his eyes up to look at you through his lashes, smirking at the way your jaw hung open and sticking his long fingers into his mouth. Teasingly swirling his tongue around them, Jeongin leaned in to press all his body weight onto the hand still keeping you bound with your arms above your head. Dipping his head down to lick over the hickey, two of his now wet fingers slicked through your folds, making you bite your lip and kick your head back. Closing his eyes and concentrating on your cunt, he whispered against your chest, “be mine.”

You weren’t sure if he meant to say that out loud, so you ignored it and focused on his hands toying with your clit. Jeongin nibbled on the faded bruise, sucking exactly where the other man did, only much harder and with a very different intent behind it. You mewled and arched your back into his hand, wriggling to get more friction from him. But every time your hips rose, he pulled away, only giving you what he wanted to give.

“Please, need more,” you managed to say. Both your eyes opened at the same time to look at one another. Not stopping his fingers, he held eye contact.

“Be mine,” he said again, louder now. The stimulation made it too hard for you to answer, biting your lip harder.

Jeongin smirked to himself, loving the way you just couldn’t think with his hands on you. So without warning, he slipped two fingers into your hole, watching the way the dark hickey deepened and glistened in the soft lighting of your bedroom. You were his now, regardless if you answered him or not.

He slid his fingers in and out at a slow pace, enough for him to keep you wet but not enough to pull an orgasm from you, and it was getting painful. You planted your feet on the bed and lifted your hips, hoping it’d be enough incentive to get him to move faster. It backfired, he released your hands and pushed your hips down flat, adding a third digit. With the newfound freedom, you immediately went for your clit, rubbing it harshly and at a speed you knew would get you somewhere.

For a minute, Jeongin let you have your fun. He let you get yourself close and hold himself steady in you while your hips bucked into both your hand and his fingers. Your moans were muffled, biting your lip to keep your dorm mates from hearing how needy he made you. And he loved watching you work yourself into a sweat, only to not reach your tipping point because it just wasn’t enough.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe. “Can’t even get yourself to cum. Do you need help, little one?” He pushed your hips into the bed again, pumping his fingers in and out for a moment. You couldn’t respond, head so entirely empty.

He hardly needed to do anything to get you like this. A few words and a little bit of kissing and you were a puddle beneath his feet.

Even with your own hand rubbing furiously at your bundle of nerves and Jeongin’s curling his three fingers into you, you lost the high as soon as you thought you’d gotten close. You could feel him purposely missing the spot inside you that would’ve had you come at least twice by now. That’s when you realized he was messing with you, intentionally riling you up to get you to completely submit to him.

Your body stilled, hand flopping limp onto your stomach and breath unsteady as a single tear rolled down your cheek in exhaustion. Wiping the sweaty hair from your forehead, he laughed darkly and pulled his fingers from your throbbing cunt and popped them in his mouth. It wasn’t enough to feel full, but you still felt empty without him inside you.

“Aw, my little play thing,” he cooed mockingly, kissing both of your cheeks and then your lips softly. Jeongin sat back on his butt, the cool air hitting your naked body and making your eyes open to search for him. He smiled at you before crossing his right leg over his left and forcing it under your right butt cheek snugly. You scrunch your eyebrows at him, confused. But before you could question it, he kicked his right leg up and flipped you onto your stomach without a problem. Damn him and his dancer legs.

Immediately, he snuck himself between your legs again, chest pressed to your bare back as his knees spread yours again. Your face was buried in the pillow, gripping onto the sheets. He was flush against you, achingly hard cock pressing roughly against your butt. Placing chaste kisses down your spine and back up, he tossed your hair over one side and began to suck at the skin of your shoulder. As much as your core was burning, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for more, and he seemed too lost in his own head to do anything about it.

But then, his hands lifted your hips and pulled them up so your core hit his cock, hard. It made both of you moan out, unexpectedly. Then he did it again harder, slamming you onto him without being inside you.

Your confusion left as quickly as it came, the impact of his solid yet strangely soft cock hitting your cunt repeatedly had your head whirling and stomach tightening. There was something so delicious about the the way it felt, feeling your core hit hard against his cock, it was something Jeongin had never felt before— neither have you. With every time he forced your hips away just to pull them in and rock against you, his balls would offer a secondary slap to your nerves, sending them into overdrive. Then he let out a moan, so guttural and from deep within his chest, your pussy gushed and coated the underside of his length.

You couldn’t get enough. Eventually, your hips started moving on their own, using the sudden arousal as lubricant to both slide your cunt up and down his hot cock and hit harshly back against him in an uncoordinated pattern. Jeongin let you work both you and him, sitting up and holding your hips but not moving, just admiring the way you moved. He relished in the feeling, taking in a deep breath and letting his eyes roll back. Your hips moved faster now, forgetting about slamming back and just rubbing yourself onto him, ankles trying to stay hooked into the crook of his knees for leverage.

Jeongin had to hold himself back from coming at the sight of you, morals completely gone.

“Look at you,” his voice was low, if you weren’t under him you wouldn’t have heard it. “You wanna cum so badly, don’t you? Using me like you’re a bunny in heat.” You couldn’t answer, getting closer to your high.

“Do it. Cum like this. Maybe I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t want any cock besides mine.” It was so vulgar, so dirty and unsafe that you pressed even harder into him, not aware that was even possible. Back arching and pulling him in incredibly tight, you came, body tensing with your cunt still on his cock.

He rubbed his hand gently into your hips and butt, soothing you as you came back to earth. Just as your legs relaxed and unlatched from his, he pushed your hips down so you laid flat on your stomach. One of his hands found a hold on your shoulder, running down your arm to pull it back to steady himself. The other gripped his cock and smacked it a couple times over each butt cheek. You couldn’t see it, but you were sure your face was red and worn out as your eyes threatened to close. Even though he could only see one side of your profile, Jeongin noticed your tiredness as well. “Hey now, don’t forget about me. Do you want more, little one?”

At the promise of pleasure, you nodded and whined out. He chuckled, wiping the hair from your face and granting you another peck on your warm cheek.

Jeongin toyed with himself, collecting your arousal with his cock as he slid through your folds from behind. Needing more, he held himself at your entrance, engorged from dryly rubbing yourself on him with only your essence as lubricant. Your skin was so smooth and soft, Jeongin considered it a moment of weakness as he bent over to pepper more kisses along your back and up the back of your arm he still held at the wrist behind you. More sweet kisses across your shoulder blades and on your neck, in your hair and a last one on your cheek, he finally pushed into you, grip tightening on your wrist as he did so. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling so euphoric and welcome in your clenching pussy.

Whereas you’d never felt so full. You’d almost forgotten what it was like to have him so close and intimate, it made all your past arguments and issues melt away. “Fuck, I missed you so much,” he breathed, base of his cock meeting your ass. You could only moan in response. Reaching for your other hand that was gripping the pillow, he lifted himself to close your legs and rest his knees on either side of you.

With your hands bound by his, he used you to pull deeper into you, just barely rubbing your sweet spot with the head of his cock. When you whimpered out particularly loud, he moved both your hands to hold with only one of his and push your head further into the bed. “Shhh! Do you want your friends to know how much of a slut you are for me?”

He took his hand from your face to let you speak, “y— yes.”

Taken aback, Jeongin short circuited for a moment. Using his strength to pull you by your arms so he held your upper body midair, he came around the side of your face enough so you could meet halfway for a real kiss. It was incredibly sloppy and uncomfortable, tongues missing mouths and resulting in saliva coating each other’s cheeks. But it was your shared kiss. It was imperfect and it came from a place of excitement, the thrill of doing something so forbidden but worth it because it was with each other. It was your kiss, passionate.

Jeongin let you slump back into the bed, impatient with his cock still at full hardness inside you. You clenched, enticing him to move. Bracing your arms behind your back, he admired how much larger his hands were compared to yours. It only took one of his to keep you bound. But that's besides the point, he was balls deep in you, any further and they would’ve been sucked into your pussy as well.

He started slow, not pulling out all the way before pushing back in. But he easily found a rhythm, and was pounding into you in seconds. Your arms were going numb, but that only added to the immense pleasure you felt. With your legs pressed together tightly, it feels the same as when you are in public and suddenly become incredibly horny and you have to clench your thighs together to suppress it, except that only makes it worse because now your thighs and undergarments rub against the nerves. It feels even better now that Jeongin’s pounding into you and his balls slap your cunt with every thrust. Your arms going numb just gives you one less thing to feel and focus all your attention on him hitting your g-spot.

But his thrusts started to become shallow. He let go of

your hands, letting them fall to the sides of your body. Planting his weight on his arms on both sides of your head, Jeongin came in close to your face. “Wish you could see how beautiful you look right now,” he whispered, lazily kissing your cheek. “My pretty little slut. Aren’t you? You’re just my cute little cum dumpster. Wanna cum, fuck bunny?”

Every degrading name he called you made you shiver and clench down on him, so hard that it ripped another groan from him. “Yeah, you wanna cum, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes— please— make me cum!” You cried out, louder than you’d ever done with your other members in the house. But you felt no shame. How could you when every one of your nerve endings were on fire, so intoxicated by his scent and overpowering body heat.

He hammered harder into you. Two months and an emotional roller coaster later, you were close to crying because of how sensitive you were. Then he pulled your hair, forcing your head up for another sloppy kiss. As soon as his lips met yours and your eyes closed, the tears fell, rolling to where your mouth collided with his and the warm, salty liquid filled his taste buds. It was an accidental outing of his newfound kink— though could it really be considered new if he’d

already admitted to enjoying seeing you cry? Tasting your tears, though, that was his last straw.

Jeongin hit your spot again and again, letting his impulses get the best of him and slapping your ass in rhythm with his thrusts. The pain from his skin hitting yours was enough to send you over the edge again, tumbling head first into the strongest orgasm you’d ever had. You cried out again, pussy pulsating harder and tighter around his cock so that he stutter stopped completely sheathed in you, following you into his own ecstasy.

He stayed like this a moment, entire body weight crushing down onto you as he began to soften. But in return for being his human body pillow, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, kissing whatever skin he could get his hands on. He told you things like, “did so well” or “you’re so gorgeous,” which wasn’t out of the norm for him after sex. He did always shower you in compliments, post nut clarity doing nothing but strengthening his immense attraction to you and it showed.

“Cum dumpster?” you laughed, eyes closing as he spread his body weight evenly on top of you. “That’s a new one.”

Jeongin stroked your hair, resting to lay his face opposite of yours on your shoulder and inhale the smell of your skin. “Too mean?”

“No. Got kinda dumb, didn’t register it until now.” It made you both laugh, him telling you he knows how easily he could fuck you stupid and you playfully threatening to cut his balls off.

It was peaceful, comfortable with him as you both laid in silence. There was something about just being filled with him that made you coerce him into staying snuggly fit despite him being completely flaccid. Jeongin couldn’t deny he enjoyed it.

Though, the events replayed in his mind, stuck on two measly words that went unanswered.

“Be mine,” he whispered, breaking you from your blissful trance.

You were already getting lost in his weight and exhaustion, too tired to think about the impending trouble that awaited when you both awoke. “Ask me that when you aren’t balls deep in me.”

Pleasure always follows pain, or is it the other way around?

A/N: round of applause I finally finished part 5!! My post-ly song rec (cus i seem to always have a song that inspires me to write) is “First Love / Late Spring” by Mitski!!! I cry listening to Mitski so everyone go cry with me.

Got some good ideas for part 6..drum roll..Seungmin!! teehee stay tuned and leave some feedback! It really does help me stay motivated to keep writing!!

-momo < 3

#stray kids fanfic #yang jeongin #I.N #yang jeongin smut #yang jeongin angst #yang jeongin fluff #yang jeongin fanfic #yang jeongin x y/n #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x you #i.n smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz smut #skz angst #skz fluff #It Was Good Until It Wasn’t #Spotify

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neopuppy · 8 months

Note

can I ask what your all time favorite outfit of jeno is ? 🙏🏼

thats a very difficult question to answer….but

Hot Sauce styling was soooo soooooooo soooooooooooooo good for Jeno. every look was giving emo e-boy, the fake earrings too, Celine boxers, low rise jeans showing off his V-line. Hot Sauce era Jeno will go down in history.

I’m not a big fan of the school boy look/outfits but the letterman jock style…thats nice. makes for great sports related delusions. he looks really good in a varsity jacket, I always like that look on him

whatever this type of style is for him, its rare to see but I love him in well-fitted clothes, preferably with styled hair(not a fan of the bangs on him). he has such a trim waist and nice balanced proportions, so I think clothes rly shaped to his body look great on him. he pulls off this more mature look too bc he has such a strong face. I’d like to see him experiment with more of this!

hands down my favorite outfits/styling was Glitch Mode/Beatbox era especially with this hair. he was very fitted to *my* type here. I feel he pulls off the alternative look very good and darker clothes really brightens up his complexion. he looked extra dreamy during this period, like I was insane fr😅 I cant find the pics but that look from the German kpop fest back then in the pink jacket😩😩😩 HE LOOKED SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD IN THAT OUTFIT

(these last two are my pictures, too lazy to look for fan-site ones) TDS2 stage outfits, because he looked like the goth e-boy of my dreams, if only he had black hair these looks would have been😮‍💨 MIND BLOWING. I was very impressed with him participating in designing the backless shirt too, the 3 variations we got to see of it + the choker, he’s sooooooooo my style like that.

I like him best just in sweats, sneakers, CHILLING WITH NO MAKEUP ON, THATS WHEN UR THE PRETTIEST, whatever Drake said. he looks soooooo soooooooo sooooooooo good in every dance practice or concert rehearsal stuff like his laid back style is😮‍💨 sexy. Jeno in muscle tees and sweats😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨💘💘💘💘💘💘💕💕💕💕

he can pull off anything I mean….his bodies perfect, great for modeling any clothing🥹💚

#asks

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struttinevilshroom · 7 months

Text

My Night as Waiter

I offered to be a waiter at a dance(which is kinda like prom for those in the US) it's a year before my time but I decided to help so I could be prepared for next year when I'm the one with a date under my arm, in a fancy car, walking down the red carpet. I also thought it would be an interesting experience and it was but not in the way that I had expected. I'm going to detail the entire day from morning to evening, literally from my waking moment up until my Slumber. Since we have a lot of ground to cover, let's begin.

I started the day with an essay which I just wanted to get over with. I've been having trouble with my writing because I've just been focused on these essays. Finally writing that essay was a huge weight off my shoulders. It was also one of the best things I've ever written, I wrote about how music speaks to people and I described the way in which music speaks by using anecdotes and stories and I even analyzed the soundtrack in Drive(2011). That was a beautiful essay. I'm so proud of myself.

After that it was a time crunch. We got out at 12 because of the essay and I had to meet the other waiters at 3pm to discuss the evening but in that time I needed to get to the mall and buy myself a pair of Chino pants because all my black pants were too small for me or they were skinny jeans and my dad says that no man should wear skinny jeans. I don't agree with that statement but still I'm not wearing skinny jeans to a formal event. I wasn't alone though, this guy named Philip also didn't have black pants to wear. Luckily, I found a nice pair of chinos for a cheap price. I had set aside some money that I would use to spend on the pants, this was just an estimate but I had to spend way less than that. Then I had to get home and change into my attire. They provided us with branded t-shirts and said that we should wear white sneakers, the Chino and the shirt. I was worrying constantly "do my sneakers have enough white in them" "should I wash and iron my Chino first" "did I order the right size t-shirt" "do I tuck it in or leave it". I then realized that it wasn't as much of a time crunch as I had thought. I did look good though, as my sister would say "the fit was giving". I also did decide to tuck my shirt in.

I had time to pick up my sister too and then to pass time we went to the supermarket or she went. I was wearing my t-shirt and one of the caterers in charge forbid us from wearing our t-shirt in public because someone from the school might see it. So I stayed in the car and read The Trial by Franz Kafka. Then I finally went to this meeting at 3pm.

I saw all the waiters in uniform and we were just kinda waiting for instructions. Nobody put as much thought into their outfit, not as much as I did or maybe I put too much thought into it because everyone's shirt was untucked and I thought it would be odd if I randomly untucked mine to fit in but it's whatever, I looked more professional with it tucked in. We received our instructions from the head chef, the waiters and chefs had some kind of bond built between us after receiving the instructions. I don't know why that happened but the waiters and chefs were thick as thieves for the whole evening. Maybe it's because we were both working under this Psycho of a head chef. They gave us food atleast. It wasn't all that but like your feeding dozens of kids in a fast amount of time so it's understandable. After eating all the chefs and waiters slowly just kinda got bored and decided to leave for the dance hall without being instructed to.

So, off we go to the dance hall and we wait outside for about an hour until the first guest finally arrives and everyone rushes to see the cars but still remain out of sight so everyone's Peeping around this corner each trying to get a view of the cars coming through and I'm not interested in cars but Mob mentality is one hell of a drug isn't it so naturally I checked too. I didn't see much because it was so crowded but I did see one car. This one guy had a massive truck carrying like a barrel of gas and him and his date sat atop that barrel of gas so that was funny. With the guests came the starters and the drinks. Us waiters had carry the starters out for the guests and offer it to them as they were taking photos and enjoying the scenery and just kinda serve it to them before they had to sit down for dinner. This whole process lasted 2 hours. It was kinda fun but I spent most that time doing odd jobs for the caterers like I packed out plates, set up a table outside for the parents, I stocked up the ice in the bar. It was fun. However as time marched onwards, the waiters started to split up and I began to get worried. In my off time I started getting stressed about whether or not I should be doing something and then when I happened to be walking by the kitchen, the head chef calls me in and he tells me to offer starters to the teachers on stage. I've been this hall many times as I attend school here but when I entered the hall to serve the teachers. I noticed that 3 different stages were constructed for this dance and I didn't know which one the teachers were on because there was fog everywhere, literally everywhere but I'll talk about the fog later, for now let's talk about how I took some initiative and maybe disobeyed a few instructions. I didn't want to wander around looking for the teachers so I served the students on the dance floor and just kinda hoped that I'd run out of starters to dish out. I then caught a glimpse of my business studies teacher on one of the stages and I knew where I had to be. I dashed for the stage and still had plenty of starters for them. I dished them out to some of the teachers and made a mental note of who was sitting where. I saw my favorite teacher and I first served some other teacher before her because I didn't want to appear too excited around her, I don't know why I'm just an idiot who reads too much into things. I finally serve her and she thanks me and smiles at me and then she says that I'm doing a great job. I started shaking when she said this, compliments fluster me and when I get flustered, I shake. I took that to heart and served every other teacher on there. There was one starter left and no other teacher wanted it so I was about to just leave when out of nowhere The principal comes and takes it. He hits me with the "thank you, young man" the usual principal speak. He relieved me of my duties for a while. This was the beginning of the rush however.

When I got out, the head chef called all the chefs into the kitchen and within a half an hour, a production line was formed right before my eyes. He then called the waiters to the end of the production line and so it began. The waiters would make a line and take 2 plates from the production line and then proceed into the dance hall and look for the woman with her hand in the air because she would point out which tables still needed food and then we gave them the plates of food and the cycle repeats. There were 650 mouths to feed and 20 waiters so we had to go as fast as possible. When you carry the first few plates, the job seems easy but an hour in to carrying plates back and forth and your thumbs and wrists start aching and your moving as fast as possible and thinking "please don't drop this plate", trying to get to the woman with her hand in the air before your hands give in and let slip. This went on for too long and once everyone got their food, it was time to take the plates back in. This whole process somehow lasted 2 hours and it was always difficult to see the woman with her hand in the air because of the damn fog machines everywhere and that lead to me wandering around hoping I find her before I drop the plate. Taking the plates in was much easier and the teachers ate all of their food but the students wasted so much. There were 650 students and every second student wasted food. That's also 650 plates and a backlog developed where there was no more space for plates and the floor of the room where we were supposed to put the plates was covered in them. It got really bad and we couldn't even step in the room, one of the waiters had to stand there and wait take plates from other waiters. It was really messed up to see all that food get wasted, it was high quality food too. I'm talking steak with mushroom sauce on top and sweet carrots on the side. Eventually though we got all the plates, we cleared the floor and every plate was packed away. This was at 21:30 when we finished. They bought us All pizza and not like class party pizza where we get one slice each but each person got their own box and it was Pineapple on pizza which I don't like but I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started eating pizza that I didn't like as if it was my favorite food and I ate the whole thing. It makes sense, I had food under my nose for 4 hours and wasn't even allowed to eat the leftovers, of course I'd be hungry. From there things died down. The waiters and chefs shot the breeze for a while and that was nice but then time marched on.

As time marched on with no work to do, our job was technically done and we still had to stay for 2 more hours so we sat next to the dj in the dance hall watching all the students dancing and the teachers conversing with their peers. This got boring after a while and half the kitchen staff and waiters went home and just as I wanted to go home, one of the caterers asked me to help her empty salt pots which I did and then I wanted to call my dad to pick me up when the head chef's business partner told us we couldn't leave and we spent the rest of the time waiting for something to do until students began to leave and we had to carry the stuff in, even though the cleaning staff was supposed to do that but whatever I'll let that slide. We continued waiting around and I got to speak to one of my friends on the camera crew which was nice. I continued biding my time and I went to the bar to see if they still had slushies or that non-alcoholic champagne but no luck. It was when I was there that one of the waiters told me I could leave. I have never walked faster and ask my friends, I'm a fast walker. I was outta there. BTW the guy that said that I could leave was a big help, he practically held my hand through the entire evening.

Anyway thank you for reading my long story of my evening as a waiter. For those curious I left at 11pm. I've always had respect for waiters but now I have so much more. Never again, will I do something like this unless I receive pay. Thank you to any waitstaff reading this

#diary entry #dear diary #actual post #prom #waiter #school #diary #storytime

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yostressmininggirl · 3 years

Text

Prerequisite Moments

6th event: Portable Affection

PARTICIPANTS: Niki, Bench Trio; Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo.

Important gifts are sentimental, and close friends are obsessed when they see you using said gifts. It just so happened that three of them are obsessed with a specific item for it.

You didn’t think about it too much at first.

Well, sure, it was intrusive and a drag to get used to at first (seeing as your morning routine is already bounded by your hectic schedule) but after a while it became systematic, instinct. Wrist space is still a pain tho, and you had to take time to remove them one by one if the situation calls for it.

“Why do you have so many bracelets on you?” Your vain attempts of trying to loosen the nylon bracelet’s knot is disrupted as you looked up to your current partner in gym class, “I keep seeing you removing them every time we start class.”

Niki offers a hand and you admit defeat by placing your wrist on it, her untrimmed nails easily loosening Tubbo’s bracelet. “My room- well housemates, gifted them to me and they get pouty if I don’t wear them.”

“Why not wear one at a time and just alternate between days?” Her generous soul helped with the knot of the string one while separating the open spring. You gave her a deadpan expression when she looked at you for an answer. She laughs. “I guess that didn’t work out well for you, from what I can tell.”

You both shared a laugh, pocketing your bracelets in your bag’s pocket before striding over to your flamboyant ballroom dance instructor.

“Yooo, (Y/N), nice to see you again!” The first gifted bracelet came from Ranboo when you were forced to watch a nature documentary for your Zoology class, cradling a bag of chips you’ve found in the pantry near expiration.

Looking up from the TV to see Ranboo back from his trip (lucky him, Biology 1 class took them out to the university’s natural science museum a few hours away from campus), you paused your boring old documentary while waiting for him to finish removing his muddy shoes.

“Hey, rainbow,” the snort reached you despite the mask muffling it, “Was six hours of travel worth it?”

“Correction, eight, and to be honest? It’s actually really cool!” After practically flinging his sneakers at the entrance, Ranboo rushed to where you were with an open bag, practically dumping everything to the coffee table in the living room.

Souvenirs, leftover snacks, his three power banks, crumpled pamphlets, is that tea bags peeking out of a plastic bag?

While you’re trying to make sense of whatever items your housemate splurged on during his trip, he happily rummaged through them himself, recounting his trip with every item he had picked up. Getting more and more excited as he passes by a new souvenir, something you didn’t expect from someone who had just came out from a four? hours trip back. “There was even this huge tree in the middle of the field, they call it the Fertility Tree! It was pretty, but also so hilarious.”

“Please tell me you didn’t pray to that tree.”

His unmasked face sends you a cheeky grin. “It’s called a Fertility Tree for a waaay different reason.” You ended up with your head in your hands after the retelling while Ranboo laughs at your demise.

“Ohh I got you this, by the way!” Scooping something underneath a hand-drawn seahorse postcard (that you were totally eyeing) the man throws the object over you suddenly. Miraculously catching it by the middle finger, the item revealed itself to be a bracelet. “Proceeds go to preserving the biopark.”

“Aren’t we government funded?” The black spheres hangs on two black strings, separated by knots as the middle holds a butterfly carved on brown wood, all tied together by a sliding knot to wear. It was loosened beforehand so there were no problems slipping it around your hand. “Ohhh, a nice fit. Thanks, Ranboo.”

“Yey! Now you’re forced to wear that everyday!”

“What?”

“Byeee, I gotta bring these herbal teas made by the agricultural research institute to Tubbo.” And then he was gone.

The next one to take up space around your left wrist was Tubbo.

With the plastic package under your arm, you entered the house with confusion. No one said anything about a delivery and you for sure didn’t have one pending, thankfully this one isn’t cash-on-delivery, whatever this is.

“Oh it’s for Tubbo,” the sticker paper plastered on the bubble wrap packaging had too small of a font size for you to care squinting at. Taking a detour to your room to drop off your bag, you made your way over to the last room down the hallway.

Hand hovering over the door knob, you took a step back upon a realization. “I’ll just put this here,” right, at this hour on a Wednesday he should still be in class-

The door opens in front of you and a previously confused Tubbo looking at your hunched figure gasped in excitement. “Is that my nylon bracelet kit?!”

“Your what?!” You don’t know why you quipped back with the same volume as Tubbo but he didn’t seem to mind, his focus on the box in your hands that he’s giving grabby hands at. Unsure why he didn’t just yank it out of your hands like he does with Tommy, you gave it and turn tail towards your own room -

When he suddenly took hold of your wrist too - dragging you into his room, the door slammed shut behind you using his foot. This is your first time inside Tubbo’s room - and the first thing you noticed is the huge couch against the wall. How the hell did he get that in there?

“I’ve been waiting for this for weeks now!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in campus by this time -”

“What’s your favorite color?! Come ‘ere, give me your wrist!”

Whatever plans you had to rest or work or anything is immediately cancelled with you trapped in Tubbo’s fairly nice room. Nylons, beads, even loom bands littering the carpet he’s sat himself on while using your pointer finger to pull at the ends of the soon-to-be bracelet.

It was sundown when you were released from the bracelet prison, around the same time that Ranboo and Tommy had entered the house (an hour after their usual, Starbucks cups in their hands) to see you leaving the room.

There was a minute of comedic silence and standstill, their eyes flicking between you and Tubbo’s door.

You raised your arm up to show the nylon bracelet in your favorite color, mixed with white and green strings as the words Tubbo and your name as beads in between glares at them from a mile away.

“WHAT?! WHERE’S MINE?!” Tommy marches forward and past you, rudely and loudly entering the room you just came from.

“Well... hello there, Ranboo.”

“Mhm mhm, good evening,” it only took a couple of strides before the tallest housemate stood in front of you. You looked up at him curiously, he takes a sip of his frappe, before taking your hand to expect the bracelet closer. “Looks good,” he mumbles with the straw between his lips. There were mishaps in the patterns when Tubbo would forget which string he had woven already but good enough when your face isn’t a good five centimeters away from it.

But he’s not here for that. No.

Ranboo pulls up your long sleeve. His bracelet is missing.

You forgot to put it back since it was on the way of Tubbo’s measuring; you simpered at his judging glare.

The last one came from big man Tommy and it was given out of spite than anything.

Shaking your wrist to rotate your watch and completely forgetting about the clock on your phone screen, the afternoon strikes 4:02. You groaned in boredom, dropping your hand back on your lap.

The sound of the beads hitting each other as well as the metal casing of the watch draws out a groan from Tommy too, head snapping over to your wrist filled with so much shit. All out in view due to your short sleeve get up today. “That looks hella heavy.”

“Huh?” Lifting your head from the window, you see Tommy eyeing your bracelets, “Oh, it’s honestly okay. Take one off and one of them would be upset.”

“Well I’m upset I only have one,” he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, Tubbo’s red and white loom band bracelet around his right, other one strikingly bare.

“Ranboo got this from his field trip,” you went back to leaning on the window, “Don’t think you’re getting one anytime soon.”

“You know what, screw this!” The car engine roars to life as Tommy proceeds to pull out of the parking lot. “We’re going shopping!”

“Wait, weren’t we waiting for the others?!”

“They’re taking too long, they can take the train or whatever!” And you two drove towards the sunset. You tried to convince yourself that you did not just see two small and familiar figures pop out on the rearview mirror before you turned the corner.

Instead of a bracelet tho, you walked out of the mall with an open spring bangle. It’s coated gold in the form of arrowheads pointing inwards, a little gap between them, not enough to squeeze your wrist thru. Tommy got himself one to match! His had a cute dolphin head and tail locking the bracelet close.

Intending to match, he didn’t buy anything for the other two.

Which only roused them up when they came back with sour faces for being abandoned, noses scrunching at the gaudy gold bangle now sitting with their own, sentimental bracelet.

“Not even hand-made! Literally just store-bought!”

“It doesn’t hold any meaning! You left us for this?!”

“Oh sod off, you two! You’re just jealous, we look sooo cool right now and you don’t have any bling on you hah!”

You walked back into your room before the fighting escalated, exhausted from being literally dragged around the mall but also just needing mental rest from the shenanigans your friends have been up to lately.

You don’t even know if you’re gonna gift them a bracelet too or something else.

#bench trio x reader #tommy x reader #tommyinnit x reader #tubbo x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #dsmp x reader #ranboo x reader #prerequisite moments #college au #gender neutral reader #1679 words

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

Note

this is kind of an odd request maybe but can i get a bakugou piece where class 1A are having like a 'fun night' in the common room and all the girls lost a bet so they have to have a just dance competition while dressed up as clothes the boys wear and reader is dressed as bakugou and is surprisingly really good at just dance and hes like like ...shes so.... !1!1?1?!1!1 and you can decide what happens really can it just be fluffy maybe with a confession 👉👈

hiii💜 wait i can totally see this happening, like the girls making this kind of bet and expecting to win haha. hope you enjoy :))

•

Just Dance

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

warnings: swearing (that should be a given when i write for Bakugou hehe)

genre: fluff

a/n: y/n wearing Bakugou’s baggy ass pants and black tank, say less 😌

“I look ridiculous,” groaned Jirou.

You and the rest of the girls in your class were getting dressed and ready for the dorm’s game night. Unfortunately your attire wasn’t entirely up to you.

“I don’t know Jirou, I think you pull off Kaminari’s look pretty well,” you laughed. Jirou crossed her arms.

“Mina should have never made that stupid bet.”

“Hey! How was I suppose to know that we would lose?” she pouted.

“Well you did bet that Ochaco would bet Deku in an arm wrestling match. I think we all could’ve predicted that one,” you said.

“In my defense I assumed that Deku would get embarrassed and back out, guess I was wrong.”

“These outfits aren’t that bad. I mean the boys all wear basically the same thing all the time,” laughed Momo.

The consequence for losing the bet was that at the dorm ‘game night’, all the girls would have to dress up as one of the boys. If the girls would’ve won, the boys would be dressed up as them.

“Okay so let me see if I can guess everyone,” you said, “Momo is Todoroki, Ochaco is Deku, Tsu is Iida, Mina is Kirishima, Jirou is Kaminari, and Hagakure is Sero. Am I right?”

“Damn nice job. Guess we did good then,” smiled Jirou.

“Wait Y/N who are you going as?” asked Tsu. You chuckled and quickly grabbed your folded clothes.

“Take a guess.”

You held up a black tank top, baggy jeans, and some beaten up sneakers. Your classmates giggled.

“Wow did you steal those from Bakugou’s closet?” laughed Momo.

“That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You changed into your outfit as it was almost time for you all to head to the common area. The skin tight tank top and baggy jeans certainly wasn’t your normal attire but a bet is a bet.

The common area was vibrantly decorated with lights and music. There was a large TV set up for the ‘Just Dance’ tournament that would be taking place. That seemed to be the most exciting part of the night.

“Woah it’s like I’m looking in a mirror!” cheered Kaminari.

“Shut it.”

“You all certainly committed to your roles,” said Iida as he studied Tsu.

“If we were gonna lose at least we lost in style!” exclaimed Mina.

“Nice crocs by the way Ashido,” you joked.

You went over to the snack table and picked up a cup of punch.

“Oi dumbass!”

You looked over your shoulder and saw Bakugou headed towards you, wearing the exact same thing as you.

“Oi dumbass!” You mocked, but laughed out instead, “How do you like my fit? Pretty accurate don’t you think?” You smiled.

Bakugou crossed his arms. His cheeks turned a little pink but played it off.

“You look stupid.”

“Well I hate to break it to you Katsuki but if I look stupid than so do you.”

“HEY- I- whatever...” Bakugou chugged his glass of punch before going back to the main group. You laughed to yourself. Bakugou tried to be intimidating with you but he always just ended up looking cute.

“Hey we’re gonna start the tournament now!” announced Mina. You all gathered around by the TV.

“Okay so we’re gonna do two players at a time, going in order from the randomly made bracket. Up first is Kirishima against Izuku.”

The rest of you sat yourselves on the couches as Kiri and Deku picked out a song. You sat next to Bakugou.

“Are you any good?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“At the stupid game. Are you any good?”

“Oh... I’m alright.”

Kirishima beat Deku so he advanced on. Aoyama destroyed Iida and he moved on as well. Now it was your turn against Mina.

“Good luck Y/N,” she teased. You chuckled.

“Speak for yourself.”

The music began to play. You gripped on tightly to your remote. Soon you began to copy the moves on the screen, same as Mina.

Perfect

After every move your completed, your point tracker grew more and more. You got a ‘perfect’ on almost every move. You already had a big lead in Mina.

“Come on Mina, you need to actually try!” You joked. Mina groaned.

“Okay how are you so good at this game?”

You classmates cheered the two of you on. Bakugou tried his best not to react but he was highly impressed by your skill. It didn’t help that you looked so good while dancing too.

“Yes! That’s a new high score!” You cheered. You had beaten Mina, and by a long shot.

“Well played Y/N,” she panted.

You plopped back down on the couch, catching you’re breath as the next people began to play.

“Just alright?” questioned Bakugou. You chuckled.

“Maybe I’m a little better than just alright.”

After about 5 more rounds of ‘Just Dance’, you were exhausted. It paid off however, because you won the tournament. You’re classmates were stunned at your hidden talent.

You now sat outside on the dorm steps, basking in the cool air as you caught your breath. You soon heard some footsteps behind you.

“Hey.”

Bakugou joined you on the steps.

“Hey.”

“Uh, nice job on winning. I didn’t know you could dance,” he whispered. Your face grew warm.

“Thanks, I guess I just don’t mention it a lot.”

“And you don’t look half bad in my clothes either...though I think you’d look a lot better in a sweatshirt of mine.”

Your eyes grew and you looked at Katsuki.

“Really?”

“Yeah...I’d be happy to give you one...”

“I’d like that.”

Bakugou smiled softly as he looked at you.

“That was my shitty way of me telling you that I like you Y/N,” he clarified. You chuckled, moving closer to him. You rested your head on his shoulder.

“I know. I like you too Katsuki.”

•

[MHA taglist: @bibly @big-phat-cat @sapphoscolonoscopy @luluwiie @happyheartsss @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @complimentaryhugsgirl @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful ]

#willow.🌸#willow.requests🌸#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugō #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #mha katsuki #katsuki x you #katsukibakugou #bnha katsuki x reader #mha #bnha #my hero academia

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

Thank you but no.

Inspired by my 100+ lovely followers, @love-me-a-good-prompt’s “THANK YOU IDEAS” prompt list, and request from a lovely anon.

Summary: When the Cullen siblings continuing pushing their human sister to play baseball with them even after she’s said no, Mia grows frustrated and storms off. Carlisle helps his daughter explore the feelings behind her outburst.

Featuring: Carlisle Cullen and Mia Cullen

Mia didn’t bother running when she stormed off. The speed of her departure never made any difference anyhow. If any of the others had felt inclined to stop her, they could make easy work of it, and it would have been done long before she reached the tree line.

She knew someone would come eventually. Someone always did, one of her siblings or her parents drawing the proverbial short straw, that person responsible for dealing with Mia’s frivolous human inconvenience of the day. Whoever came after her, it was almost always the right choice, like they all formed a little huddle to decide amongst themselves who could best manage her and her behavior and her mood, like she was something to be handled, a problem to be solved with efficiency and delicacy—a ticking bomb.

It sometimes felt that way to Mia, like she was an inconvenience or something that needed to be constantly managed by the rest of the family, in one way or another, their lives were constantly modified to accommodate her and ensure she didn’t feel left out or less than. But the modifications and accommodations did the opposite and Mia felt sick of it, sick of earning participation trophies when the others all easily took first place. She was sick of being merely mediocre at everything in comparison.

Mia settled on a rock beside the stream, rubbing her chilled hands together and wishing she remembered to grab her coat before coming out, already feeling the cold of the rock seeping through her jeans and into her skin, her thin shirt not nearly warm enough for any prolonged exposure. Shivering already at the wind's bite she knew she wouldn’t last long, but she wasn’t ready to admit defeat this soon so she focused her attention on pushing her heel through the mud, watching as the silt piled up at the end of her foot’s reach.

“I already said no,” Mia muttered, her eyes still on her feet as the leaves crunched behind her.

“Thank you, but no,“ she repeated the words she’d said to them all just before. "I don—” Mia stopped as her father’s shoes edged in beside the wall of mud and earth and she glanced up to him, a deep sigh heaving her shoulders as she pushed her foot forward once again.

“Hi, Dad.”

Carlisle smiled a bit at that, took it as a sign that this would all go a bit smoother than his wife and other children had suggested. His daughter had seemingly calmed herself at least a bit, her heart rate much slower and her words much kinder than they’d been a few minutes prior.

“Hello, Mia.”

Carlisle held the coat out for her and Mia fit her arms inside, wrapping the coat around her and shoving her hands into the pockets.

“Any room for me on that rock?”

“Depends on if you came out to yell at me." Mia mumbled her words, once again pushing her foot through the mud that had slid back into her trench.

“How often do I yell at you?”

Mia's heel worked on a stubborn bit of stone stuck in her path. Carlisle didn’t often yell at anyone, let alone her. Mia remembered only a handful of times in her whole life when she had been the intended audience. And those times weren’t borne from infractions like shouting at her siblings.

“Lecture, then,” she offered with a shrug as the stone broke free and she kicked it from her foot's path.

“Well, that’s a very different thing.” Carlisle smiled. “And I prefer to think of it as a discussion. It’s not often so one-sided between you and me, is it?”

Mia exhaled and scooted over, allowing Carlisle enough room to sit beside her, their timing coordinated near perfectly as she leaned into him and he fit his arm over her shoulder.

"So, what was all that about?” he asked.

“They just wouldn’t stop,” Mia said. “I said, ‘thank you, but no.’ And I tried to be nice about it, but they just wouldn’t let it go.”

“I believe there were a few other choice words you offered,” Carlisle said.

Mia snuggled closer and pushed her sneaker through the mud again. “Yeah, well, I didn’t mean any of that.”

“I believe you didn’t mean to say it in that way, but I know you well enough to know at least some of that was true,” he said.

“It’s just pointless, Dad,” she mumbled.

“What is?”

“Everything. All of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I may have an idea,” Carlisle said, “but I’d still like to hear it from you.”

He could prompt his daughter with open-ended questioning all day, had the sort of patience and genuine curiosity that would eventually bring them around to a point where Mia would give him a more complete answer, but they always played this song and dance in the beginning, always the vague, evasive answers on her part. It was something they’d taught her, how to answer without providing one, something which was often a help to them in many other aspects of their lives.

“You’ll just think it’s stupid,” she answered, pulling out of his hold to settle with her arms rested on her knees. She settled her head down on top of them, facing away from him.

Mia knew it wouldn’t sound as reasonable coming from her mouth as it seemed when it was nestled deep in her mind. How could she explain to him how pointless it all felt in the scheme of things? It wasn’t just about the baseball game. It wasn’t just about feeling as though every one of them held something back for her benefit, that she was holding them back, and the fact that she’d always be the weakest link, the interminable family liability.

“I won’t,” he answered, a hand moving down her back. “You know that.”

Mia shrugged, turning her head to watch the stream. Her father had never once made her feel stupid. Like Esme and Alice, the man didn’t have whatever was necessary to employ a condescending tone and for being the oldest vampire of them all, he was surprisingly in tune with and understanding of the human condition.

“I’ll never be as good as them,” Mia finally said, her eyes trained on the water.

“In what way?”

Mia took a deep breath, a part of her annoyed for having to explain, frustrated that Carlisle wanted her to tell him how it felt when the assignments she worked so hard on made their way to the fridge while the others got perfect scores on nearly everything without trying, and they didn’t even care. She had no desire to tell him that being celebrated by them felt forced because whatever she produced, whatever she achieved, it wasn't even worth being celebrated.

“I never win at anything, not really, and even if I do, it’s just because they’re going easy on me.”

“Because you’re human?”

Mia glanced at him and huffed. “And you’re all not.”

Carlisle frowned. “We have some additional skills at our disposal but—”

Mia rolled her eyes and groaned. “Dad."

"Everyone has their own strengths, Mia.”

“And weaknesses,” she answered. “And that’s me. The family weakness. I’ll never be as strong or fast or smart or clever or well-read or anything.”

“We’ve had much more time than you have. Your brothers and sisters have had a few collective centuries more than you to study and—”

“Exactly,” Mia answered, thinking of the wall of graduation caps, the family joke she wasn’t a part of and would barely ever contribute to. “I’ll never catch up. Even if I’m fast, I’ll never be the fastest. I could be smart but I’ll never be as smart as any of you, never be as good at anything. May as well just give up now.”

Carlisle nodded as she spoke. He didn’t love her phrasing, and he certainly wasn’t comforted by the expression coming from his daughter’s mouth.

“I didn’t mean that exactly how it sounded,” Mia added after a few seconds’ pause. “I just mean it seems a little…futile?”

“Your siblings would love another chance at being a teenager and human.”

“Well if that’s true, they can have it. I’d gladly trade any of them. It’d be nice to be something other than an unexceptional burden for a change.”

“You’re not a burden,” he answered. “Not a weakness.”

“Whatever you say,” she answered, turning back towards the water again.

“And you know, your siblings were all exceptional before. The things they have now, they had in them before the change, too.”

Carlisle gave that notion a moment to settle but Mia didn’t respond, still staring out at the stream and the woods beyond it.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not really.”

“They didn’t all know what they were good at as humans. The transition helped some of them identify it, hone it, but there was always a natural predisposition. There always is.”

“Great and since I have no natural predisposition towards anything useful, I can someday be as boring and worthless as a vampire as I am as a human.”

Carlisle didn’t love discussing the prospect of his human child having a vampire life. Even if the possibility was always there, even if that had been the eventual plan since she joined their lives, the decree passed down from the Volturi, he still didn’t like discussing it.

“Do you truly believe that?”

Mia shrugged. She didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to believe she was merely ordinary or weak, but a part of her seemed determined to hold onto the notion.

“Everyone is good at something,” he answered. “What are you good at?”

“Nothing,” she answered. “I’m not good at anything.”

“Nothing?” he repeated. “Now, I kno—”

“Not comparatively,” she answered. “I’m okay at some things, but I’m not as good as any of you.”

“I don’t compare you to anyone else and neither should you,” Carlisle said. “Now, I could tell you what you’re good at, tell you all the wonderful things I see in you, but I don’t think you’re in a place to hear it. So you have to tell me— what’s something you’re good at? Don’t think about your brothers and sisters. Don’t think about the other kids at school. Just think about you.”

Mia glanced at him. “It’s not like that’s an easy question.”

“It’s not,” he answered. “People spend their whole lives trying to figure out the answer, trying to match that answer to another of life’s important questions. What makes you happy? The answers don’t have to be a perfect match, Mia,” he said. “They rarely ever are, and the answer to the second question is much more meaningful.”

Carlisle took the baseball from his pocket and slipped it into her hand. “If something makes you happy, it doesn’t much matter who wins, does it?”

Mia ran her thumb over the ball’s red stitching. “What if winning makes me happy?”

“Then I’d say you’re just as competitive as your brothers and sisters,” Carlisle answered. “But I would also say you shouldn’t give up on what makes you happy just because you don’t always win at it.”

“Are you trying to tell me I should play baseball?”

Carlisle nudged her shoulder. “If you don’t play, we lose our secret weapon.”

Mia smirked. Her human weaknesses were at least good for something. She forced her family to dial things back, forced them to lean into things they were no longer very good at— moving slowly and tempering their strength. None of them pitched as well at the speed she needed them to pitch at. None of them hit as well at the speed she needed them to match, but it was good for them to practice at playing human, necessary to their survival, even.

“I’m much better at being human than you all are,” Mia answered.

Carlisle laughed. “I would hope so.”

“I keep you all on your toes.”

“You do,” he answered. “And you remind us every day what a beautiful thing it is to be human.”

Twilight Masterlist

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #carlisle cullen #cullen sister #cullen daughter #mia cullen #100 follower thank you

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moonbeambucky · 4 years

Text

Hey Neighbor (Part 17)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4359 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: I know you’re excited for the wedding but we’re not quite there yet. Although I think you’ll be happy about this... mostly. Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 16 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Somehow it was decided that this was a good idea, that Coney Island wouldn’t be so bad on Memorial Day weekend. You were very wrong.

Everyone had the same idea, filling the subways until they were packed as you made the long trip to Brooklyn. What should have taken just over an hour became closer to two because of overcrowding. It was hard to guarantee that eight people would make it onto the same train with all the pushing and shoving of people ensuring that they made it inside before the doors shut.

By the time you arrived everyone was hungry and the mass of people covering the large Boardwalk only added to the frustration you were all feeling. Clint, Steve, Peggy and Bucky wanted Nathan’s hot dogs while you, Natasha and Wanda didn’t. You decided to split up, going down the Boardwalk to another place that was just as crowded but offered something for each of you.

“There’s no place to sit,” Natasha said, looking around as she held a lobster roll in one hand and a beer in the other.

“Ooh, over there,” you said, pointing to a bench across the Boardwalk that was quickly taken before you had the chance to take even one step towards it.

There were a few high top tables that you could stand up in front of so you quickly ran over to an open one before someone else could. Natasha lined up her food on the table, getting the restaurant’s name in the background as she took a picture.

“Clint just texted me. They’re finally about to order.”

“About time,” Wanda said, taking a bite of her sausage and pepper roll. She nudged over her container of fries towards you and Natasha, silently offering them.

“They’re asking if we should meet up with them by the Wonder Wheel.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said while chewing, covering your mouth so pieces of your cheeseburger didn’t spit out.

Despite the crowds this brief moment felt nice, feeling the breeze from the ocean and the warm sun heating your skin. Memorial Day weekend was the unofficial start of summer and that meant you could finally begin your countdown to graduation. You had three months more to go before you would finally reach your goal and it was… scary. Scary and exciting at the same time but you couldn’t wait for that day.

“So Saturday’s the big wedding huh?” Natasha smirked.

You raised your eyebrow, not giving in to the way she looked at you. “Yes it is but we’re getting there Friday and before you say anything our hotel has two beds, okay? Two of them.” you said, sticking two fingers in front of her face.

Natasha mumbled something under her breath that you didn’t bother to decipher. Nothing was going to happen. A little dancing, a little awkward conversation with people you don’t know and that’s it.

“Horses?” Wanda asked you, tilting her head up so you could get a glimpse. Natasha looked confused but held her tongue.

Music filled your ears as you passed a group of people gathered on the Boardwalk watching others dance. It was nice to see everyone let go and enjoy the sunshine.

Wanda kissed Sam as soon as the groups joined up again in contrast to Natasha. “I don’t like hot dog breath,” she said, looking into her bag for gum or a mint to give Clint.

Making a face she didn’t see, he mockingly signed back Natasha’s words making you laugh since you understood him. Bucky held his left palm up, sliding the middle finger of his right hand over it. To your shock you realized he just signed back “rude” to Clint.

Turning towards him you asked, “When did you learn ASL?”

“When someone told me our neighbor signs.” He smiled widely and you suddenly felt light enough for the breeze to carry you away. “C’mon,” Bucky said, nudging his head for you to start walking with the group.

He adjusted the brim of his baseball cap, which was the only difference between your outfits today as Sam pointed out. You and Bucky were basically matching and he thought it was cute that you coordinated even though it wasn’t planned.

You both wore crisp white t-shirts, jeans (though yours were shorts), and converse sneakers. Arguing that you were wearing red sneakers unlike Bucky’s black ones made no difference, everyone still thought it was a very “coupley” thing to do.

As you walked towards the Wonder Wheel you couldn’t help but stare at Bucky's arms. They had gotten much bigger ever since he started working out with Sam and Steve and those muscles definitely stood out now; tanned skin with a prominent vein running down his arm you couldn’t take your eyes off of.

“Swinging cars? Oh no. I’m good,” Sam said as you approached the line.

“Me too. I’ve got a belly full of hot dogs so I’d rather not,” Clint added.

The group split with Sam, Wanda, Clint and Natasha getting in line for the stationary cars as you, Bucky, Peggy and Steve waited for the swinging ones. When it was time to load into your car there were two benches facing forward. Steve and Peggy took the front one and you guys were in the back. Bucky let you enter first and you sat down quickly so the attendant could close the door, adjusting your bag between your legs on the floor.

Steve turned his head around, smiling at you in a way that made you furrow your brows at him but your unspoken communication was interrupted as the ferris wheel began moving backwards. He faced forward again, reaching his arm around Peggy in the cramped space.

The car stopped suddenly but above you was the shadow of another cart and the sounds of screams as it rocked along its own track. Everybody on the stationary cars were missing out, this was going to be fun.

Half a minute went by before the ferris wheel moved again, this time stopping at a point where your car was able to roll forward. You expected the jolt but it didn’t mean you were prepared for it and somehow you found yourself grabbing Bucky by the shoulder as you screamed with laughter as the cart swung back and forth. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact he wished you kept your hand on him the whole time.

He envied Steve holding Peggy close. When the car reached the top he watched them kiss, a small peck to show affection and Bucky was undeniably jealous. Steve had met the perfect girl in Peggy, and Bucky felt the same way about a certain person sitting next to him.

You only accepted his request to be his wedding date because he begged, he’s sure of that. It was so pathetic for him to plead but he really wanted you to go with him, and shamefully, since he knew you had sworn off dating, this was the closest thing he would ever get.

His profile was still up on the apps, and occasionally he would make plans to meet someone. The closer the wedding got, the less frequent it’s been. He’s not proud of the fact that he’s made dates and cancelled them. He tried his best to remember to cancel in advance but sometimes he would forget, becoming lost in the music he was creating, only to find a few messages with choice language he rightfully deserved from the people he didn’t mean to stand up.

Bucky wasn’t interested in any of them, only one person was always on his mind and yet he knew he would have to let that go. Going to the wedding together isn’t going to help his feelings but he hopes by some strange logic he can allow his heart to live out whatever fantasy is not coming true and then let you go.

“You wanna hit the beach now?” Sam asked, once you all got off the Wonder Wheel.

“Yeah, Nat says my ass is pasty,” Clint replied.

Natasha’s nostrils flared as her eyes widened in shock. “You are not tanning your pasty ass on this public beach Clint!”

Laughter rang out and Clint leaned in to peck a kiss to Natasha’s full lips which relaxed her tense expression. Despite all their teasing they loved each other deeply and it made your heart ache, longing to have a love like theirs.

The crowds on the beach hadn’t let up, not that anyone expected them to. Umbrellas of every color of the rainbow were spread out across the sand and it didn’t look like there was even a spot for all of you to fit among the crowd but that didn’t stop anyone.

Your sneakers crunched on the sand scattered along the wood planks by the entrance, grabbing the hot metal railing to pull them off before you walked down onto the beach. Bucky followed suit, holding his sneakers in hand while everyone else left on their flip flops or slip-on.

The sand was burning hot against your soles that also battled against sharp seashells as you trudged your way to a spot, following behind the group. Clint’s impeccable vision pointed out a spot big enough for all of you and rushed over there staking a claim.

Steve shrugged his shoulder down to let the heavy bag he was carrying for Peggy go. She had packed a large bag with towels, sunscreen and a few collapsible umbrellas. Sam helped Steve by setting up the umbrellas as everyone else worked to set their towels down.

Pulling out a large towel you placed your sneakers inside your tote bag, holding it open for Bucky in case he wanted to protect his from the sand as well.

“Hey where’s your stuff?” you wondered out loud as he placed his sneakers inside.

Bucky clenched his teeth together making an adorable face that told you your answer before he gave it. “When you said we were going to Coney Island I didn’t think you meant the actual beach. I figured food and drinks...” he trailed off, still awkwardly grimacing.

“It’s okay. You can share mine,” you offered. Turning away to unravel the towel, you missed the soft smile that settled on his face at the prospect of being close to you.

Bucky helped smooth out the towel, a pretty teal with gold pineapples printed across the fabric. He let a small huff out under his breath, disappointed by the fact that your towel was bigger than he expected and he didn’t have an excuse to be as close as he hoped. The feeling passed just as quickly as Bucky realized how stupid his thoughts were; you were only offering him the towel, it was not an invitation for anything else.

His mental chastising paused from the moment your hands hooked on the waist of your shorts, pulling them down to reveal a bikini. A sexy snakeskin pattern in a mix of steel blue, black with speckles of white that hugged you like a second skin.

Bucky’s mouth fell open as you pulled off your shirt, revealing the matching top and he had to force his gaze away. His cheeks felt hot and with the shade of the umbrella he’s not sure he could use the sun as an excuse for his bright red face.

Sam caught the interaction, raising an eyebrow to Wanda as his mouth pulled into a deep smirk.

“Hey Bucky!” The sound of Sam’s unexpected voice startled Bucky, making him jump slightly as he whipped his head towards him. “What are you wearing man? Jeans? I hope you don’t have a speedo under them.”

Everyone laughed though the sound of your giggling made Bucky ripen like a tomato. With a shaky voice he dismissed Sam’s claim, wishing he had thought this day through and worn board shorts like everyone else.

“You’re not beach ready!” Sam said, crossing his broad, sculpted arms over his chest.

Frustrated by the sound of another innocent giggle that fell from your lips, Bucky pulled off his shirt tossing it aside. “Happy? I’m beach ready!”

The breath was pulled from your lungs leaving you unable to speak, think or do anything other than stare at Bucky. Your eyes scanned his muscular body up and down, as if he had been sculpted by the gods himself.

Your hands longed to touch every ab that was carved into his stomach and when your gaze continued lower you thought you might go feral. The deep cuts on his hips had your mouth watering and without realizing it your tongue had swept across your lips. It wasn’t until Bucky moved to sit down that your focus was broken.

“You look great,” you stated, clearing the nerves away from your throat. Bucky shrugged it off with a modest half smile, unable to fully embrace the compliment coming from you. “No really, I’m actually jealous. How the fuck do you have that body with all the pizza we’ve been eating?”

Your question made him laugh, wrinkling his nose as the smile spread across his face. The tension had eased although you were very aware of Bucky as you laid on the towel, trying not to stare at him like he was a piece of meat and you hadn’t eaten in weeks.

As Sam spoke about an ER case you were happily distracted, even though you were tempted to ogle Bucky every time he shifted beside you, cringing at the gory details. The hours passed quickly as you laid out, relaxing or talking with Peggy as Natasha, Wanda and Sam went into the water. Bucky sat beside Steve and Clint, the three of them laughing at their conversation.

Peggy spoke in a low whisper, “After the way you looked at him today I don’t think you can fool yourself much longer.”

You didn’t respond because there wasn’t much to say. Peggy saw the look in your eyes, the admission of what you both knew was true and the fear that came along with having feelings for him, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Anyone want food? I’m gonna get more hot dogs,” Clint said, wiping sand from the back of his shorts as he stood up.

Both your heads shook and he left just as Natasha was coming back. She pulled out another towel to wrap around herself, “He’s getting food?” she asked despite knowing the answer.

Wanda and Sam returned hand in hand, drying off in the still very warm sun and asking about what everyone wanted to do afterwards.

“I’ve never been on the Cyclone before,” Peggy said, looking at Steve as they both silently recalled the story he told her about throwing up after going on it as a kid.

By the time Clint returned he had already eaten the hot dogs he bought, feigning shock to see everyone packing up. Bucky put his shirt back on, slightly wrinkled from the way he tossed it into your bag, and he caught your gaze as you were slipping on your shorts.

He looked away, lifting the towel and shaking the sand off of it. You helped him fold it up to place back in your bag and Bucky kindly removed both pairs of sneakers to avoid an uncomfortable mess.

When you made it to the Boardwalk you leaned against the railing, wiping sand from the bottom of your feet before putting on your shoes. Bucky did the same though he could still feel grains of uncomfortable sand in his socks.

Natasha and Wanda needed to change so you followed them to the bathroom to use it as everyone else waited. By the time you reached the Cyclone you were paired off to sit with Bucky again, not that you minded.

“Hold up,” Sam began, lifting his hand towards Clint, “You’re okay to ride a rollercoaster after eating but not the swinging ferris wheel?”

Clint nodded as he shrugged in response, not knowing how to explain why. Sam rolled his eyes, sharing a confused look with Wanda. They made sure to sit in the back to be far enough behind Clint, just in case.

You and Bucky were cramped together in the padded leather seats of the historic coaster; packed in like sardines and secured even tighter as the lap bar came down.

“It’s squishing my thighs,” Bucky winced, laughing as the ride began; a sharp right turn before the rickety chain began pulling the car up the hill.

Your hands were both in the air as you went down the first drop but quickly you dropped them, holding on to the padded lap bar because despite having no room to move every forceful turn had you pushing against each other.

Screams were present throughout the ride as the coaster went down steep hills and hard turns and in the end you turned towards Bucky, laughing in the pit of your stomach as you saw his hair, loose and wildly covering his face.

He combed through it with his fingers, taming it as best as he could before trying to get himself out of the seat. Once he was free he held a hand out for you to take and that’s when you felt the ache in your thighs. You hissed as you rubbed them, feeling how sore they were from the rough ride.

“Maybe Bucky could rub them for you,” Natasha whispered in your ear as she passed by, laughing, hand in hand with Clint who, defying all laws, did not throw up.

You rolled your eyes and continued to walk, a little painfully as you were still feeling the dull throb from your legs. Passing a few carnival games Steve and Sam eyed each other, their friendly competitive nature carried over from their workouts to now see who could win the bigger prize for their girl.

“Sam, I’m serious, I don’t want a giant teddy bear,” Wanda insisted but Sam couldn’t hear her.

His focus was on the best spot to aim to knock over the six tin cans. He licked his lips, a confident smile spreading across his face. Winding his arm back he let go, leaving all but one can standing.

“Let me show you how it’s done Sammy,” Steve said with swagger, as he paid for his game.

Peggy and Wanda shared a look as she also expressed no interest in a four foot bear. “Honestly, my apartment is small. I can’t have a massive bear taking up space.”

Thankfully Steve’s aim was no better, leaving two cans standing.

“Oh look at that. All those muscles and you can’t knock down more cans than me. Looks like I should be the Captain now,” Sam snickered.

You and Bucky opted for a much more friendly competition playing alongside Clint and Natasha in the water gun game. The four of you sat down on the padded stools, paying for your game and waiting for the round to begin as more people joined. Beside you a small child sat on his knees on the stool, as his mother held onto him and told him what to aim for.

Grabbing the gun you tried to position it towards the target in advance, ignoring Bucky’s comments about how he has the aim of a sniper so he always wins. At the sound of the bell the water turned on and you were an inch off from the center of the target, quickly adjusting and hoping there was some chance you could still win. The prize didn’t matter, but bragging rights certainly did.

“Number eight’s a winner!” the employee resounded.

To your left you saw Bucky’s wide “I told you so” smile, written across his face that now glowed with the flashing blue light above his winning station. Another sound made you turn your head though, the kid next to you that burst out into tears after losing. Your gaze softened as you watched his mother try to comfort him as the employee asked Bucky what color dinosaur plush he would like as his prize.

“Hey buddy,” Bucky said, ignoring the employee for a moment as he knelt down beside the crying child. “Which color’s your favorite?”

With a few sniffles he lifted his head up, tiny curled hands wiping away his tears as he asked for the purple dinosaur. Bucky proudly handed over the plush toy to the now smiling kid, accepting his mother’s thanks as they walked away.

Your heart was swelling with warmth and when Bucky turned around he was met with a soft smile you couldn’t hide. He turned away smiling, trying to hide the dusting of pink he felt forming on his cheeks.

With everyone feeling a little hungry now you followed Steve who knew about a good place a few blocks away. Walking beside Bucky your fingers brushed against his every so lightly making goosebumps ripple up your arm. You wanted to take his hand, lace your fingers together as a small sign to let him know how you felt but you were too scared.

Steve brought you to a small Mexican place that had an enclosed patio, with good music blasting and brightly colored margaritas that everyone around you seemed to have. The guys pushed two circular tables together so you could all sit, looking over the menu of food which you were hungry for but more importantly drinks that you hoped would give you the courage to grab Bucky’s hand.

Your table was with the girls though Bucky was still beside you, squeezing into the other table next to Steve.

“Mmmm nachos, and ohh tacos… I feel like I haven’t eaten in forever. I want them all,” you joked, reading over the menu.

With food on the table and a strawberry margarita in hand you felt great. Today may have been hot and crowded but it was a perfect day spent with your friends.

Natasha stood up, trying to angle a selfie with everyone in it meaning you had to lean back towards Bucky and after your drink you were a little looser, tipping your head backwards to smile at him. Bucky laughed, smiling back at you before Natasha said she was ready.

Bucky moved in closer, resting his chin on your shoulder, his long hair tickled your neck which made you giggle just as Natasha took the picture. He lingered there for longer than he should have before he sat up straight, ignoring the way Sam looked at him.

Somehow everything felt right. Tonight was the night you were going to let Bucky know how you felt. Your hand slowly inched closer to Bucky’s, reaching out for his left hand resting on his thigh. All you had to do was touch it, a light caress by your fingers, just enough to let him know there’s something you want to say without saying it yet.

“Bucky!”

The high pitched voice of a woman calling out to him made your arm jerk back into the safety of your lap.

Bucky turned to see a woman he unfortunately recognized. Whitney, a bartender he had gone on a date with two months ago and ghosted afterwards. She was nice but there weren’t any sparks. He slept with her anyway, regretfully.

With her head cocked to the side and hands on her hips she smirked as she replied. “You were supposed to text me back!”

“Yeah, sorry about that…” Bucky lied.

“That’s not very nice.” She pouted, playfully swatting at his chest. “And after that night we had!”

Bucky forced a tight smile as he looked past her in the hope that she had friends waiting for her. Whitney continued to flirt, at least that’s what Bucky thought by the sound of her voice, the way she purred her words to him even though he wasn’t paying any attention.

Relief flashed in his eyes when another girl stumbled her way towards them, lacing her arm through Whitney’s to pull her away. Bucky had never been happier to see a drunken mess, because this one was saving him from dealing with her.

“Text me sometime, okay Bucky?” Whitney cooed.

“Uh yeah yeah, sure. It was nice seeing you.” Bucky responded quickly, barely hearing what she had even said.

Before he could turn to sit back down Whitney grabbed him by the collar and pressed her lips against his. You turned away, finding solace in your drink, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Bucky contemplated if wiping his lips would be too childish even if it’s what he honestly felt like doing. He sat down again, embarrassed that everyone had to witness that.

“So…” Sam began, breaking the ice, “Another hook up huh?”

“What? No. I… No that’s nothing going to happen. Not with her.”

Sam scoffed. “Oh so some other girl then? Have you ever tried actually dating one person?”

Steve blinked a few times at Sam’s candid question even if he agreed with the sentiment. After all this time he still didn’t understand why Bucky was so averse to dating.

“It’s just that…” Bucky started before he let out a grunting sigh.

From the corner of his eye Bucky saw your head turn ever so slightly to listen in. His cheeks began to match your margarita and he knew he couldn’t answer Steve honestly, not when he wanted to have this conversation with you in private. He hates the reputation he’s built up for himself, desperately wanting to be the great boyfriend you once thought he could be.

Bucky shrugged off the question, taking a sip of his drink instead. When his glass hits the table he looks towards you and your eyes meet for a second. His smile seems fake and you know why. He’s holding back from answering the truth because you know he probably wants to have an explicit conversation about all the girls he’s fucked, bragging about every dirty detail to the guys but he can’t because you’re there.

The rest of the night was a blur as all you could think about was how to let go of your feelings because you could never be in a relationship with Bucky.

PART 18

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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much-ado-about-exy · 3 years

Text

familiar ghosts

whumptober day 1: “you have to let go”

ao3

Dick is… tired. Although he can’t exactly remember why. There’s this bone-deep, crushing exhaustion in his limbs that feels too heavy for a fifteen-year-old kid to bear - although, being fifteen also feels sort of wrong for some reason, which is weird. But old ladies at galas for Wayne Enterprises tell him that he’s got an old soul, sometimes, so maybe that’s what that’s all about. Maybe his very old soul is chafing under the awkwardness of adolescence just as much as the rest of him is.

He does his best to shake off whatever it is, anyway. Today’s a really cool day, because Wally, who’s been his best friend for years and his crush for at least a couple months, give or take, finally asked him out on a date, and they’re meeting in Central City this afternoon. School’s just let out and Dick is already halfway to the closest Zeta-Tube to Gotham Academy, the chatter of his recently-dismissed classmates quickly fading behind him.

The coordinates for the Zeta-Tube down the street from Wally’s house are as familiar to Dick as his own cell phone number - he’s been visiting Wally this way since before Batman even trusted him to be using the Tubes on his own, which - he’d certainly gotten in trouble for, at the time, but it had never really stopped him. He punches in the command impatiently and even though the transport is near-instantaneous, he can’t shake the restlessness in his limbs that overtakes him as he’s spat out of the Tube and into Central.

He pauses for a minute inside the phone booth that disguises the Tube’s entrance, changing from his school uniform into normal-people civvies before ducking out and sauntering determinedly unsuspiciously - spiciously? Maybe not - out of the alley and down the street.

Wally’s waiting for him on his front porch already, of course. With the time difference, he’s been out of school for over an hour by now. He looks nice - he always looks nice, of course - although his hair is brushed kind of weird - it strikes Dick that maybe Wally dressed up a little, for this date, and that maybe Dick should have, too? But it’s Wally, his best friend, he hadn’t thought- well, there’s really nothing to be done about it now. Jeans and a short-sleeved shirt will have to do.

Dick bounces on the balls of his feet once, twice, three times, suddenly anxious, before Wally’s down the stairs and standing in front of him.

“Hey, dude- er, is dude still okay?” Wally scratches the back of his neck, face slowly turning red.

“Duh,” says Dick. “Dude, nothing has to change that we don’t want to.”

“Right, yeah,” says Wally, grinning.

He reaches out for a fistbump, but Dick pulls him into a hug instead. He’s still shorter than Wally, although by less than he had been a year or two ago, and he can hear the speedster’s heart pounding through his shirt as Wally’s arms tentatively close around him. It’s Dick’s turn to blush, now, and he lets go just as quickly as he’d grabbed on to begin with. What had he done that for?

He hastily bumps his fist against Wally’s loosely curled hand and turns to lead the way down the street, hoping it’s not obvious how jittery he is.

“Dick,” says Wally, easily catching up and grabbing Dick’s hand, “you’re about to start cartwheeling down the street, man. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“I am!” Dick sounds defensive even to himself. He sighs. “I’m just… Nervous. We’ve been friends forever! But it feels like… Things are supposed to feel different, now? On a date? And I don’t know how to do that right. What’s supposed to change?”

“Dude, you said it yourself.” Wally stops walking, drags Dick to a stop by their joined hands, and turns to face him. “Nothing, that we don’t want to. We’re still best bros - we can just, like, hold hands and kiss and stuff if we want to, now.”

That last bit comes out in a rush, Wally’s gaze dropping to the pavement. Dick grins. He’s spent enough time daydreaming about kissing Wally the thought of it hardly phases him anymore, except for the electricity that it sends down his spine to know that he can now.

“Totally,” he says, tugging on Wally’s hand to get them moving again. “You ready for me to kick your ass at roller skating?”

“Roller skating isn’t a competitive sport, you dick! And you’ve never been before, either.”

Dick totally kicks Wally’s ass at roller skating.

But something feels… Off about it. It’s not like he’s ever been inside the Central City Rollarama before today, but he has the strangest sense of deja vu about it. And he’s… Honestly better at skating than he probably should be, even given his solid sense of balance and acrobatic inclinations. And so is Wally - Dick has an itchy phantom memory of Wally landing on his ass over and over again on skates, laughing through a fake scowl every time Dick hauled him to his feet, but he knows - he knows - that they’ve never done this together before. Right?

He’s very purposefully continuing to ignore the sinking wrongness he’s been feeling all day, though, because he’s having fun, dammit, and whatever vigilante-dread-sense weirdness is going on can wait. Wally clings to his shoulders and appears to be doing his level best to drag the both of them to the ground as Dick tows him in circles around the rink, and Dick’s own laughter has him doubled over enough of the time that he’s sure Wally’s going to succeed.

Miraculously, they survive two hours of this - with no major injuries, no less - before Wally’s stomach starts to growl.

“Ice cream?” Dick asks, guiding them toward the rink’s exit so they can take off their skates.

“Babe,” Wally says, looking at Dick like he hung every star in the sky, or completed a titration with a margin of error less than one percent, “you read my mind.”

It’s a good thing they’re near the wall by now, because Wally calling him babe just about knocks Dick off his feet, and the only thing that saves him from a bruised tailbone is the railing he grabs onto before he tips too far backward.

“Cool,” he says, breathless. Please, god, don’t let Wally have noticed that. “Let’s go, then!”

While they swap out their skates for shoes, for just a second, Wally flickers into someone older, someone tired, and so does Dick. And then they’re back to normal again.

They hold hands on their way to the ice cream shop down the street. Wally’s hand is warm and a little sweaty, and just a bit too small- too small? No, it’s just right. Their hands fit together as if they were always meant to hold each other. It’s perfect, so perfect that Dick barely keeps from skipping with how happy it makes him.

Wally orders a strawberry cone, and Dick gets chocolate in a cup, but they’ve hardly even walked away from the shop with their ice cream when Wally sneaks up behind Dick and steals several bites of his.

Dick gasps dramatically, whirling around to face the thief, who has already swallowed his stolen goods and returned to his own ice cream.

“Wally,” he whines, “you jerk!”

“It’s good manners to share.” Wally turns up his nose and looks down it at Dick, smile lines betraying his stern expression.

And, really, Dick doesn’t even like strawberry ice cream, but that sort of behavior simply can’t be allowed. So, it’s strictly on principle that he grabs onto Wally’s arm and hangs off of it, switching tactics to try to clamber onto Wally’s shoulders when Wally passes his cone to his unassailed arm.

“Let go, you goof,” says Wally, dancing backwards out of Dick’s reach and holding his ice cream aloft.

“What?” Dick asks, laughing. “Can’t handle the heat?”

But Dick blinks and something’s changed - Wally’s face is serious now, where it had been creased with smile lines half a second before. It’s alarming enough that Dick whirls around in a circle, certain that some supervillain is trying to get the drop on him, but there’s nothing there.

“Dick,” says Wally, voice grave, and suddenly he seems much less corporeal than he had just a few seconds ago, shimmering like hot air over pavement, “let go.”

“What?” Dick’s voice is higher, younger, less confident than some part of him knows it should be. This is wrong, it’s all wrong, this isn’t how today goes, but he doesn’t want to think about what that means, not now, not when things are so good. “I let go, I’m all the way over here now. It’s fine, see?”

“You have to let go,” Wally says. Electricity sparks across Wally’s chest and his very existence seems to flicker with it. Old and then young again. Here and then gone. “It’s time, dude.”

“Time for what?” Dick asks. He’s panicking now, unable to calm himself down. He hates being confused like this, hates being left in the dark, hates knowing even more. But he gets no answer.

Wally’s ice cream splatters to the sidewalk, stray droplets landing on Dick’s beat up sneakers, as the boy holding it vanishes without a trace.

---

And Dick, nineteen, alone in the oppressive dark of his Blüdhaven apartment, wakes up.

#whumptober2021 #no.1 #youhavetoletgo #fandom #fic #yj #birdflash

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itsboketto · 3 years

Text

output - gojou x f!reader

genre: angsty

warnings: cussing , mentions of sex , death , Utahime mentions

disclaimer: please excuse my terrible writing state, i haven’t written in awhile so I’m just getting back into writing :) also this is in no way to shit on gojou, we all love him 🏹 and yes, i’m aware i used a different anime AMV but the song & arrangement was too good to pass off. thanks for understanding!

WC: 3231

proofreaders/editors: Amanda , Aldu , Zero , & Flora | Thank you so much for fixing my dumb mistakes 👉👈 appreciate you 4 very much!

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to stay with you forever, he was supposed to go down on one knee and wrap your finger with a diamond ring, he was supposed to have a family with you and have the happiest lifetime with you.

He was too late

A week ago

“Y/n-channn“ Gojou whined while throwing a fit on the bed you both shared. You gave a soft hum, rubbing your eyes with your hand, the flat side of your elbow slightly brushing against his soft fluffy white hair. “I want to eat breakfasttt!” he huffed, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest kissing you on the top your head. “If you hold me like this I won’t be able to cook for you. Make up your mind babe,” you yawned, digging your face into his warm embrace. “What if I want both?” “You don’t get both.” “I’ll get both anyways!” “No you won’t.”. That’s how your everyday went.

He’d wrapped his arms around your waist as you cooked breakfast for him, propping his chin on your shoulder and humming a familiar tune. The way he always ends up making your heart skip a beat every time he looked at you with his breath-taking eyes. How he always was your first priority and always will be. He was your one and only, and you both knew that.

Nothing really concerned you when it came to Gojou. You knew he was always out trying to save others or train his municipals so you never worried about what he was doing.

Today however, he seemed a bit off. He woke up on his own, cooked his own breakfast (and yours), didn’t even try giving you the slightest attention, and just went out to work after he finished getting dressed. The only thing you got was a quick head pat and a “Have a nice day”. You knew things were getting troublesome at work and he was working really hard to train your younger brother, Itadori-kun, but it still hurt that he was giving you the cold shoulder. You ate the sandwich he left on the kitchen counter, thinking about what could've happened that made him so stressed out . You decided to wait until he got home so you can talk it out with him.

He didn’t come back home.

It started getting pitch black as you watched as the clouds flowed with the silent night. You already tried text him, call him, you even called your younger brother Itadori-kun but he seemed to be busy. You were worried sick, not because he wasn’t home, no, but about him acting strange this morning. The last person you called was someone whom you’ve been close to since childhood, Utahime.

“Hello?” she answered, picking up faster than you thought

“Utahime, I know it’s quite late to be calling but I need some comforting” you sighed, hoping she’ll agree to listen

“It’s okay, tell me what’s wrong”

You ended up staying on the call until the sun rose. You apologized to her for taking up her time and suggested to buy her a cup of coffee the next time they meet and she agreed happily. You fell asleep as soon as you hung up, exhausted from the overwhelming emotion you spilled onto your best friend.

The afternoon

The sun ray peaked through the window blinds, flushing into your living room, landing right straight onto your face. You rolled over to the side to avoid the sun light but in the process you nearly fell off the couch side. “Ah!! That scared me..” you grumbled while raising yourself up, yawning and extending your arms up to stretch out the sore bones. “What time is it?” you asked, twisting your head to check the clock; 12:09pm “SHIT I’M LATE” you cussed in a panic and zoomed to your room to get your prepacked bag and went to the kitchen to grab a slice of bread. You slipped out of your slippers and grabbed the keys hanging on the right side of the door. Assuming Gojou was back, you yelled back “Okay babe, I’m leav-” the front door unlocked. It pushed wide open revealing an image you’d like to be forgotten.

Another woman was clinging onto Gojou’s arm

Not only that, but he also reeked of alcohol as well. His face was terribly red and he couldn’t stay put. “Gojou~ I thought you said no one was going to be home” the woman hummed, looking at you with a smile. “Ah? I was sureee Y/n would beee at workkk nowww~” your boyfriend whined while using the girl as support for his heavy head. What the fuck was happening? Who is this woman? Why is he bringing her to our house? Is he serious right now? Too many questions flooded your head but there was one thing clear to you: get him away from that woman. “Um Miss, would you mind letting go of him? I can handle him from here” you gave the woman a genuine smile and stood in-between them, trying your best to drive her away. “Why should I let go when he brought me here, hm?” she didn’t try letting go, her grip tightened. “I appreciate your help, Miss. But he is seeing someone right now so it’d be best to leave” you tried to emphasize your lack of patience, not waiting for her to respond you yanked his arm away from her grip and immediately shut the door after the action. You could hear the woman cuss under her breath while dragging herself away from your unit.

You heaped Gojou onto the living room couch and removed his mask. “Gojou, what happened?” you asked, trying to sound as calm as you could. “Y-y/n? Why are you hereeee?” he asked, adverting his gaze as if he were hiding something. “Who was that woman?” you asked again but firmly this time. “W-who are you talkinggg abouttt?”. He wasn’t in the right state to answer any questions no matter how much you push him. You let out a heavy sigh and walked towards the kettle where the already boiled water was sitting. Pouring the water into his mug, you walked back to him and handed it to him. “Get some rest, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Gojou left.

You woke up to a cold atmosphere. The sun was up and you’re alone on the couch. It took you a few seconds to remember what happened last time. “Gojou!” you said in an instant. You panicked, hoping he didn’t leave already. The bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, closet. He was gone. You groaned in frustration as you kneaded your fingers with your hair. Why does he keep leaving? What’s going on? Is he avoiding me? The questions just won’t stop coming and it began to impact you and your mood. You knew this wasn’t good since you had shift that night. “Fuck you Gojou...” letting out one last sigh before getting dressed.

“Itadori-kun, could you do me a favour?“

After the call with your brother, you grabbed your house keys and slipped into your sneakers. If he’s going to avoid you, then you’ll just have to go find him. Itadori sent you the address of the club he was at. You weren’t the least concerned about why he was there, all you wanted to know was what was happening. You stepped on the petal and drove to the destination.

At the club

You parked your car in the parking lot at the club. The sign read Sight Eight in bright neon lights. You were unfamiliar with the place, nonetheless the surroundings. Everyone seemed to be drunk off of whatever it is they are on, your heart paced faster the more you walked into the hell hole. It was crowded, too many people made you claustrophobic and stuffy, uncomfortable to the point you wanted to throw up. That didn’t stop you though, your mission was to find Gojou and leave immediately.

“Hey sexy, would you mind dancing with me?” “Damn, your body looks beautiful!” “Come sit beside me, you little slut.”

You couldn’t help but to feel terribly uncomfortable, the way the men stared at you, the way you were out in the open for any of them to prance on you. It was horrible. You didn’t understand why the fuck Gojou would even come close to this place, he never mentioned liking clubs at all and he knew too well that you hated clubs.

You looked everywhere, yet you didn’t spot him anywhere. He would’ve been easily seen because of his tall figure and white hair but he was no where to be seen. You cursed multiple times under your breath, why did you even come here in the first place? To suffocate yourself? You lost thought of your motive, knowing you’d need some fresh air, you walked to the back door and stepped outside.

And there he was.

There he was, devouring another woman. Not just any woman though. He was passionately kissing your best friend, Utahime.

“W-what the fuck are you doing Gojou..”

He snapped out of his actions, whipping his head to the side to see the person he hoped he wouldn’t get caught by. He saw as you also looked at Utahime with an expression he couldn’t figure out. You were tearing apart, the two most important people in your life decided to go behind your back even after all the lies they’ve told you.

“I-it’s not what you think, Y/n!” he panicked, Utahime sparing him regretful looks. You couldn’t understand what was happening. Was this a nightmare? Are you hallucinating? No. No you weren’t, in fact this is at real as it gets and that took your a few moments to take it in.

Gojou told Utahime to leave and apologize next time as he wanted to talk to you privately. “Y/n, I can explain-” he started once again. He tried to approach you, but you flinched at his step, you took a cautious step back, terrified of him as he would somehow hurt you just by walking closer to you. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit anymore, Gojou” you said quietly and ran for it. You pushed the back doors open, heart pumping from the adrenaline. You couldn’t care less about the judging eyes and nasty remarks, all you wanted to do was to get as far away from the man you used to call your one and only.

Your eyes burned from the tears, your sight got blurry to the point you couldn’t see properly, the sounds outside were practically silent. You looked down to your phone when it gave a notification sound. It was Gojou. Your blood boiled from the sight of his name on your phone screen that you stepped on the pedal forgetting you were on a red light.

The driver in front of you tried to stop you with the sound of his car horn. Beep beep beep! You couldn’t hear anymore. Ha! You were practically hysterical at this point. You didn’t even think twice as you slammed on the pedal, your hands moved on it’s own on the hand wheel and your head not thinking straight. You drove right into the traffic pole, almost barely missing the opposite car. The last moments you remembered were hearing an annoying ringing sound in your ear and blurry figures yelling at your motionless body.

GOJOU (song link : loop it!)

He didn’t have any particular reason for doing what he did. He was terribly exhausted from work and he needed an output to excite him before going back to the draining place. He’s already slept with many different women behind your back, always feeling disgusted towards himself before and after the many times he’s had sex with others. However, he easily loses his mind once he starts. This distraction was effective for him, which made him feel that the idea wasn’t so bad after all.

All he had to do was keep it a secret from you and hope that he never gets caught, right?

That was a horrible bet. Even more, he made himself defenseless to many others. He’s been used too many times to count yet he didn’t mind it because he knew it was going to make him feel better.

That one day he drank, he didn’t intend to get drunk. Someone must’ve put a drug in his drink when he wasn’t watching. He passed out on the 3rd shot. The person whom took him to a spare room at the party most likely fucked him while he was asleep. The next morning, he knew he fucked up. Walking up to a person that isn’t you. He wanted to go back to you as soon as possible but the woman was too hard to resist as she seduced him. He ended up drinking before going back home, the woman apparently found him drinking by her door.

He knew he was indeed suspicious at that point. Trust was something very important to you yet he broke it so easily. He didn’t end there, even though he already at the questioning stage, he didn’t stop. He continued to hook up with random women, sleeping with them, and then not going home back to you.

He knew this would hurt you. He knew his actions were more than unacceptable. But his addiction was too hard to handle.

“W-what the fuck are you doing Gojou..”

That voice, that setting, and that person were all enough to make Gojou’s world go upside down. He hoped it wasn’t the person he was thinking of as he whipped his head towards the voice’s direction.

It was you.

On instinct, he tried to cover the woman he was kissing right there an then. The person you were the closest to, the person you trusted the most, the person you called a best friend was the person that was pushed behind his back in attempt to hide her from you.

He was caught. And caught by the last person he’d like to be caught by.

He couldn’t think of any words, the only sentence that came out was “I-it’s not what you think, Y/n!” and “Y/n I can explain-”. Really Gojou? Was that the only thing you could mutter out? That sentence obviously did no better than what she just witnessed. He tried to approach you but of course you dashed the opposite direction. He ran behind you, trying to catch up to you but you were already in your car by the time he reached the cashier counter. He exited the club and yelled your name as if it would do anything to stop you. “Y/N!”

He reached into his pocket and called you, texted you, tried anything to contact you but you didn’t answer them. He groaned in frustration, sliding his back on the glass door then sitting himself down on the ground. Look at what he’s done. What was he supposed to do now? You probably won’t even let him in the house even if he begged. It was all over now. He made the biggest mistake of his life.

He dragged himself to the street and called for a taxi home. He stared out the window, wondering what will happen now. His eyes blurred from the burning tears. Just thinking of every outcome made him realize that you were never going to forgive him.

Bringg! Bringg!

His ringtone ringed! He excitedly flipped his phone on, only to face an unknown number. His expression immediately changed, was he too hopeful? Either way, he needed to pick up that call incase it was inportant.

“Hello? Is this Mr.Satoru?“

What? “Yes, that is indeed me”

“Hello Mister, this is the JLK hospital. Miss L/n had you saved as an emergency contact, I am here to inform you that she’s in our hospital.”

What? “What do you mean in the hospital-”

“She got into a car accident, Mist-”

He hung up the phone. He couldn’t believe his ears. Y/n? In a car accident? He yelled at the driver “JLK HOSPITAL. NOW!”. He was worried enough to the point he wanted to break the land under him.

At JLK

He threw the cab whatever he had in his wallet, not caring about the amount. All he was focused on was you. He pushed the front doors open, patients looking at him as if he were a mad man. He ran straight to the reception counter, panting in every word he spoke.

“Y-y/n! W-where is s-she!?”

The receptionist, frightened, tried to calm him down as he breathed in and out deeply.

“She’s in the emergency room-“

He didn’t blink for a minute, he dashed towards the emergency arrows, running through the quiet halls, only reaching the locked door at the end of the hall. He banged the doors, praying that you were fine.

“LET ME IN! LET ME SEE Y/N!” was what he yelled continuously.

Nurses had to hold him back from disturbing the doctors and nurses trying to save your cold and still body.

He sat on the chairs right by the doors, waiting for some kind of reassurance, some kind of comfort to tell him you were still with him.

The large metal doors open from the emergency room. He beamed up, looking for a relieved or happy expression from the doctor but there was...

Nothing.

“I’m very sorry Mr.Satoru” the doctor said, pained to even look at you straight. “She was found with a glass barely missing her right lung, she also suffered from a major head injury caused from the accident..” they said but judging by his expression they decided to stop talking.

“C-can I go s-see her?“ he stuttered

There you were. Lifelessly lying on the hospital bed, covered up with a white cold sheet. He took a few steps into the room, only then stopping mid-way. He had no right to go near you, he had no right to mourn for you, he had no right to associate with you. He knew that, but he needed to see you one last time. Approaching you, seeing how your face paler than snow and your body just as cold as ice.

He squeezed your hand, crying his lungs out. Screaming at you to come back to him as if that would help. He prayed for a miracle, somehow thinking you would open your eyes and wrap your arms around his broad back. Your head resting on his chest and how you nuzzled into his embrace. How you had small arguments with him and letting him win because you just loved him that much.

But that wasn’t going to happen anymore.

He didn’t even get the chance to say sorry. To tell you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, and how much he wished he had spent more time with you. He kept regretting every decision he made, hoping you could somehow hear him begging for you to come back.

It took him hours to take in the reality. The doctors told him he had 5 more minutes before they had to take you away to the morgue. He shook your hand one last time, finally accepting the news. You were gone and he couldn’t bring you back.

“I love you, Y/n..”

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pinnithin · 3 years

Text

invited home

This started as a “haha funnie gman eat a pizza” fic and turned into a soft little story about family. 3406 words.

Remembering etiquette was, perhaps, the hardest part of this.

The “hardest part of this” changed pretty frequently — often associated with whatever he was dealing with at the time. The week that took Gordon’s hand and very nearly his life was several months behind him, but he still heard the echoes of the Resonance Cascade in little things as the days passed. He heard it in the low hum of the air conditioner in his window and the backfire of a tailpipe outside. He kept the lights on at night and heard the echoes in his sleep.

It would never really go away, he guessed.

The best he could do, dealing with the hardest part of whatever his day brought him, was to simply keep living. A clockwork routine grounded him. He did normal things like buy groceries and hike in the county foothills - sometimes alone, sometimes with Tommy. Black Mesa and all the horrors it held may have broken the two of them, but they were slowly putting the pieces of each other back together.

So it shouldn’t have surprised him when he invited him to dinner with his father, right?

They were... well, they were something. Gordon found it difficult to call Tommy his boyfriend when they’d crash landed straight from acquaintances to partners in Black Mesa. The guy was the only reason Gordon was still alive, and he felt that he’d be repaying that act of kindness for the rest of his days. That sort of unwarranted devotion wasn’t exactly grounds for a normal courtship.

But this is what people did. They bought groceries and went for walks and had dinner with family. Tommy was offering this ritual to Gordon in an attempt to ground him, just like he helped him establish his other routines. It was in his best interest to take it.

The one story adobe in Sandia Heights was far more nondescript than Gordon was expecting, fitted cozily into the neighborhood on a street named Desert Finch Lane. It was evening, and the setting sun washed the walls a soft pink. The front lawn was xeriscaped with a bed of gravel and some strategic placements of yucca and saguaro, and a straight stone path marched right up to the front door. Gordon checked his phone one more time before he exited his vehicle - this house seemed far too normal to belong to someone like Tommy’s father.

No, the address Tommy sent him matched the numbers on the mailbox. Briefly, he glanced over the rest of the conversation as he reached with a free hand to kill the ignition.

T: Only if you want to! I know the last time you spoke was kind of weird... G: its fine it was a weird day haha G: no yeah id love to though G: do i need to bring anything? T: :D T: I guess you can if you want? It’s not going to be fancy or anything - we’ll probably order takeout. T: We just like to get together every month or so to catch up and I wanted to bring you along this time! No pressure. G: oh is this like G: a family thing? T: Well, yeah. Is that okay? G: its great! just checking G: see you then

T: :) T: See you.

A smile touched his mouth. Tommy rarely asked Gordon for anything, so he knew this was important to him even if he downplayed it. Gordon wouldn’t say he was a fan of Tommy’s father, but if Tommy wanted him to smooth things over after the Black Mesa incident, well, he’d try. For him, he’d try.

He didn’t know if Tommy’s father drank, so he passed on the wine, deciding instead that one can never go wrong with garlic bread. His eyes fell to the loaf he’d picked up from Albertson’s on his way over, still warm and wrapped in a foil package in the passenger seat. He’d done the meet-the-parents dance a few times before - a lifetime ago, it felt - but none of his partners had ever mattered this much to him, and none of their fathers had ever been gods.

Remembering etiquette, he reflected, was the hardest part of this.

He slid out of the car, taking the bread with him, and marched up to the front door. It was painted a bright turquoise with the word Bienvenidos scripted across the middle in white decal letters. This struck him as odd, because Tommy’s father didn’t seem the type to care about suburban design motifs, but he only hesitated a moment before raising a fist to rap his knuckles on the door.

Only a few seconds passed before the door swung open, and relief rolled over Gordon when he saw it was Tommy in the doorway. He was dressed in his usual button up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and he smiled like a sunrise. Gordon grinned back. He didn’t think the rush of affection that overtook him every time he laid eyes on the man would ever really fade.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Tommy answered, still smiling. “Come on in.”

He stepped back to allow Gordon entry, and his presence somewhat quelled Gordon’s trepidation as he crossed the threshold into Mr. Coolatta’s house.

“I hope garlic bread is okay,” he said as Tommy shut the door behind him. His eyes caught the neat line of shoes in the entryway, and he began jimmying his sneakers off. “I wasn’t sure what we were having.”

“It’s perfect,” Tommy answered, turning from the door. He watched Gordon attempting to remove his shoes without the help of his hands with a hint of amusement. “Um, do you want me to take that?” he asked, indicating the bread.

“I’ve got it,” Gordon muttered distractedly, finally kicking off one shoe and then the other. “You didn’t grow up here, did you?”

Tommy watched the sneakers go flying down the hall, a laugh in his eyes, but he didn’t comment. “God, no,” he answered. “Dad downsized a couple years ago.” He paused, flicking a brief look around the room, before adding, “He decorated the place himself.”

Gordon followed Tommy’s gaze. It looked like a house, at a glance. There were throw pillows on the leather couch and an artificial plant rested tastefully on the coffee table. Picture frames and various ornaments adorned the mantle, functionally useless objects stuffed between photos of the Coolatta family through the years. His eyes caught a decorative globe, some pillar candles, and a geometric silver figurine before landing on a sunny portrait of a smiling child - Tommy, he guessed. A wall hanging of colorful overlapping rectangles covered the space next to the south window.

All at once, Gordon felt he was in a place that was trying very hard to be a house, without quite knowing what a house’s qualifying factors were. Aside from the photos, the only clue to the owner’s tastes was the record player against the far wall, crackling out music from a time period Gordon didn’t recognize. Something with a strange time signature and a dreamlike melody. It was possible the song was from an era that had not yet happened.

He looked back to Tommy and found him studying his face. “It’s nice,” he offered summarily.

Tommy laughed quietly through his nose. “I think he just went to the home decor section of Target and picked out some stuff he liked,” he said.

“Oh,” Gordon replied. “Y’know, now that you say it - yeah. Yeah, I can see that.”

Tommy didn’t exactly look uncomfortable with Gordon’s presence in his father’s house, but he didn’t seem wholly relaxed either. The set of his shoulders betrayed him, as did his hands, which fidgeted at the seams of his pockets before extending to take the bread from him.

“Here, let me - we can put this in the kitchen,” he said, gesturing behind him.

It was possible that etiquette slipped his mind as frequently as it did Gordon’s, and that made him feel a little better about the whole thing. He should have assumed as much - he and Tommy both used the skeleton of routine to prop themselves up, despite the fact that they found social rules tiresome at best. A necessary framework for people like them. Gordon allowed Tommy to take the package from his arms and followed him down the hall.

The kitchen was a little more homey, if only for the healthy clutter of appliances on the counter. Two boxes from Dion’s Pizza sat on the island, and seeing them pulled an audible sigh of relief from Gordon.

Tommy noticed. “Yeah, we’re not - we don’t cook a lot around here,” he admitted, sliding the package of garlic bread next to the pizza.

“That makes me feel better about bringing over store bought bread,” Gordon chuckled. “Where’s uh,” he darted a glance around the room, as if the man in question would materialize if he mentioned him aloud. “Where’s your dad at, anyway?”

“Oh, he’s...” Tommy finished his sentence with a vague wave of his hand. “He’ll show up sooner or later.”

He didn’t seem concerned, as if his father disappearing to another time and place arbitrarily was something that happened a lot. It made sense - Tommy was self-sufficient to the point of being an outright loner - and Gordon guessed that Mr. Coolatta’s inhuman qualities probably didn’t lend to a very warm upbringing.

Tommy was watching him, observant as always. “He’s not really a bad person,” he said at length. “He just… he sees things differently.”

“Shit, man,” Gordon laughed and shook his head. “Sometimes I think you can read my mind.”

“Oh, I never told you?” Tommy responded, raising his eyebrows impishly.

He didn’t seem to want to discuss his father any further, so Gordon laughed at Tommy’s joke and didn’t press it. They fell into a comfortable discussion, standing together in the kitchen and waiting on the third member of their little party. This part Gordon knew how to do - speaking with Tommy always felt like coming home, and while they were still learning things about each other, he never felt any pressure to behave in a way that wasn’t his whole, genuine self. He saw the slope of Tommy’s shoulders slowly relaxing while they talked, and felt himself mirroring him as the minutes ticked by.

Tommy’s father materialized in the time it took for Gordon to blink, one moment absent and the next present. Spooked, Gordon jumped slightly at his appearance, while Tommy uttered an unaffected and congenial, “hey, Dad.”

Mister Coolatta stood under the kitchen lights exactly how Gordon remembered him. His suit was as smooth and clean as his hair, and he wondered if the man even thought about wearing anything else, much less owned a varied wardrobe. Tommy’s father was, in many ways, like Tommy himself. Tall and neat and watchful. Seeing them side by side, it was easier to envision them as family, and Gordon no longer wondered where Tommy picked up his carefully neutral expression from.

The man in the suit fixed his cool gaze on Gordon. “Mister Freeman,” he said. “It is, hm, good to see you again.”

Gordon extended a hand before he could lose his nerve. This was what people did. And while Tommy’s father may not necessarily be a person, that was no reason for Gordon to deny him the courtesy of a handshake.

“You too, sir,” he answered. “Happy to be here.”

Tommy’s father paused for a moment, studying Gordon’s outstretched hand with interest. “I trust the hand hasn’t been giving you trouble since your little incident?”

“Uh,” Gordon faltered only for a moment. “No. It’s been just fine.”

“Dad,” Tommy intoned quietly, passing a glance between his father and Gordon.

This spurred the man in the suit to recall etiquette, himself, and then Gordon was shaking hands with a god.

It was surprisingly normal, all things considered. His grip wasn’t quite as solid as Gordon expected, though that was less a testament to his grip strength than it was to his short-of-corporeal nature. His skin felt like something that was pretending to be skin, and it was the same temperature as the air around them. But he nodded and looked Gordon in the eye like any other man, so he guessed he’d had worse handshakes before in his life.

Mr. Coolatta released him and angled his head to his son. “Forgive me for my lateness, I… had to take care of some things on the ah, ‘out-side,’ as it were.”

“It’s fine, Dad,” Tommy answered, then added, “I picked up the pizza.”

His father’s eyes lit on the boxes, seemingly for the first time. “Dion’s,” he observed. “Excellent choice.”

After a short, awkward silence, Gordon blurted, “should we eat?” and Tommy sighed a grateful “yes,” before nudging his father toward the dining room.

As Gordon took a step to gather the pizzas into his arms, he felt Tommy skate his fingers delicately across the inside of his palm.

“Thank you,” he murmured in his ear, quiet and just for him.

Gordon wasn’t sure what exactly Tommy was thanking him for, but he caught his hand before he could withdraw and gave a reassuring squeeze. He was warm and solid and alive, and it anchored him.

“We got this,” he told Tommy, smiling.

The dining room was another testament to Mr. Coolatta’s decorating tastes. Gordon was not quite successful in withholding a chuckle when he noticed a Live, Laugh, Love sign on the wall, and this earned him a gentle elbow in the ribs from his partner. Tommy was carrying a set of plates and silverware in one hand and some napkins in another.

When Gordon offered to help set the table, Tommy only shook his head mischievously, and the cutlery leapt from his hands on their own.

Right. He was dating a demigod. This was a detail Gordon often forgot about, if only for the fact that Tommy displayed his power in subtle, quiet ways that went unnoticed. Here, however, he had no such reservations.

This was a Tommy Gordon hadn’t gotten to see yet, and he caught himself staring as he set the table without even touching a plate. He handled himself with an ease he didn’t show out in public, manipulating space with a well-practiced comfort that indicated years of doing it this way. A Coolatta ritual, for Coolattas only. Gordon, an outsider, felt his nervousness slowly melt into gratitude at being invited to the table. He understood now - Tommy didn’t want Gordon here just to smooth things over with his father. He wanted to share his life with him, every jigsawed piece of it.

Conversation was easier than anticipated. Tommy led the discussion at first, updating his father on his new job at the VLA in Socorro. Working with radios in the quiet desert, listening to the stars, seemed to suit him, and the fondness with which he recalled his nighttime shifts alone was genuine. Gordon tucked into his slice of 505 (pepperoni and green chile) and watched Mr. Coolatta’s facial expression as he absorbed the information.

The man sat perfectly still except to give acknowledging nods here and there, and his pizza remained untouched on his plate. At least, that was Gordon’s first assumption, until he realized the slice was gradually disappearing bite by bite every time he looked away. Mr. Coolatta’s face was impassive as always when Gordon gave him a questioning look, and when Tommy didn’t acknowledge the mystical pizza disappearance, he chose not to say anything about it.

“Mister Freeman,” the man in the suit said after a time, turning his swirling gaze on his guest. “It is my under-standing that you… have a new profession, as well?”

Gordon, figuring he’d picked up the “Mister Freeman” thing from Tommy, didn’t bother to correct him. “Yeah, I’m teaching physics at NMT,” he answered.

He didn’t think he’d enjoy an academic environment all that much, choosing to teach as a backup while he pursued streaming in the meantime, but he was developing a fondness for it. His students were bright individuals, and some of them were just as weird as he was, which kept his days interesting.

Gordon wasn’t one to discuss his new job at length with anyone. It felt strange, after everything he lived through, to complain about something as trivial as grading papers or writing coursework. But Mr. Coolatta was among a handful of individuals who knew exactly what happened to him during his employment at Black Mesa, so he felt what he said next was entirely understood by everyone at the table.

“It’s a nice change of pace,” he added. “Things are better.”

“Yes,” Tommy’s father answered. “I have… heard the same from Tommy. It is, good to know that the two of you are, hm, recovering well.”

His tone was one step away from apologetic, and Gordon was sure he imagined it, but he was touched by the sentiment nonetheless. Tommy smiled softly down at his plate and didn’t say anything. They were recovering well, weren’t they? Finding a place for themselves. Learning how to be human again.

Gordon wasn’t sure, at first, if it would ever be possible. The Resonance Cascade was the worst thing that ever happened to him, but… Tommy was the best thing that ever happened to him. And even with all the complicated emotions that surrounded the Coolatta family, he was happy to be here. He was happy to see that small, private smile cross Tommy’s face.

The evening concluded with Gordon and Mr. Coolatta getting into a discussion about whether a hotdog was actually a sandwich, with Tommy joining in as moderator and rewarding imaginary points as they each went over their arguments. They wiped out the pizzas handily between the three of them. When Gordon had to excuse himself to begin the drive back to Socorro, Mr. Coolatta initiated another handshake with him. It was only a little less weird the second time.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Tommy offered.

The setting sun bled a soft orange onto the neighborhood as the two of them left the house. Tommy kept his hands in his pockets, just barely brushing shoulders with Gordon as they went.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me,” Gordon responded. “It was nice.”

They pulled to a stop next to the station wagon. “Sorry Dad’s so…” Tommy trailed off and shrugged. “Like that,” he finished.

His eyes were down, studying the sidewalk as he scuffed the sole of his shoe on the concrete. His expression was drawn, but Gordon could see from the crinkle of his eyes that he was happy with how the night turned out.

“Hey,” Gordon said.

Tommy’s eyes flicked up to meet his. His gaze was sharp and watchful, cutting Gordon in a way he found he liked.

“Don’t feel like you need to apologize for your dad,” Gordon said. “He’s cool. And I’m… Like, I’m glad you wanted me there. I had a good time,” he rambled further, “and it’s - I haven’t been to dinner with someone in a long time, and it was just - like it was really nice to just talk about stuff with family like that.”

Tommy’s mouth split into a smile, face flushing slightly as Gordon said the word ‘family.’ “Yeah,” he agreed. “It was nice. This is - we should do this again.”

The fact that there would be a next time sent a rush of emotion into Gordon’s chest. He loved Tommy, loved how trusting he was to invite him to such a private part of his life. Certainly this was difficult for him to do, but he allowed Gordon Freeman, of all people, to cross the threshold and see inside. He was close enough to be considered family. Sheer affection made him dizzy.

Tommy’s smile was infectious, causing Gordon to grin outright. “I’ll see you back home later?” he asked.

“Mm hm,” Tommy nodded. He leaned in, but stopped short when Gordon held up a hand in protest.

“Uh,” he intoned, pointing. “Your dad is totally watching us from the window.”

Tommy glanced over his shoulder and caught the dark visage of his father beyond the glass. He rolled his eyes, still smiling, and gestured with a hand. The curtains snapped shut at his command. “No, he isn’t,” he said.

They kissed on the curb, Gordon laughing softly into Tommy’s mouth. He was home already.

#hlvrai #freelatta #tommy coolatta #gordon freeman hlvrai #fanfiction #writing #pin talks #listen i think about tommys relationship with his father a lot....#but this was not the fic for that #anyway please enjoy this was very sweet for me to write i smiled a lot #i love them....#gman hlvrai

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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The Ranch {8}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: We love that you guys have been loving this so much! Please continue to let us know what you’re thinking. We loved writing this fic, and your love means the world to us.

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian didn’t see or hear from Nesta for the rest of the day. He saw her in the main house around dinner time, but decided he would let her cook in peace. He didn’t know what kind of demons had reared their ugly heads at her today, but whatever had happened between Nesta and Tomas Motherfucking Mandray had screwed with her so badly that he barely recognized the woman he found in the paint department today.

He remembered Nesta from high school, had known that she had dated Tomas then. But, he didn’t know much. At least, not about Nesta. As for Tomas, however, he and Cassian went way back, and none of their interactions had ever been pleasant. Tomas had always been a self-absorbed little bitch. He hated Tomas.

And he had hated him even more when he walked into the paint aisle and saw how fucking terrified Nesta had been.

Yet, he wasn’t going to push her to talk about it. She would come to him when she was ready. Maybe. Hopefully. Either way, Cassian had convinced himself that it was none of his business.

Even if he really, really wanted it to be his business.

As night approached, Cassian made sure all the horses were ready for bed, and all the cattle were where they were meant to be. He whistled for Beau to follow him into the cabin and, the good pup he was, Beau obeyed. Once inside, he slumped into the recliner and checked his phone.

There was a text from Rhys that read, Being engaged is fucking awesome. It ended with three flame emojis. Cassian found the text as a whole repulsive and unnecessary.

There was a text from Azriel, too, that read, Drinks on Friday? Elain is working all night.

Cassian dismissed it, making a mental note to reply in the morning.

Then, he had one last text.

From Nesta.

Thanks for today. Sorry I spaced out.

He read the text once, twice, three times before finding the nerve to reply. Anytime, he wrote. He wanted to write something else, anything else, wanted to add a fucking speech at the end of the one-worded text, but he decided against it.

He pressed send.

It wasn’t two minutes later that he got a reply. You should be sleeping. You’ll have to wake up early to get on the stables, won’t you?

Cassian chuckled to himself. Maybe. But you have to be up early to do your makeup before you finish the landscaping, he replied.

Her reply wasn’t as quick this time, the dancing dots disappearing every so often. But when his phone finally vibrated while he was brushing his teeth, he laughed out loud.

Don’t act like it takes me more time to do my hair than it takes you to do yours. Don’t think I haven’t noticed those man buns are a little TOO perfect sometimes.

He replied with no hesitation. Glad to know you’re looking at my man buns.

He swore that he could feel her eyes roll from across the property. Goodnight, Sexy Ranch Hand.

Goodnight, beautiful.

He sent the text, hoping it would bring her a little bit of joy, a little bit of comfort, but then, when she didn’t reply, he grew nervous.

He felt he was walking a fine line with Nesta, ever since she scolded him for being his boss.

His hesitation didn’t last too long, though, because his phone vibrated the minute he climbed into his bed. The text was short, but it gave him comfort.

A smiley face emoji greeted him as Beau climbed up on the bed beside him.

He slept good that night, smiling stupidly to himself as he snuggled up next to Beau. And when morning came, he felt completely refreshed.

He was up and getting dressed with a cup of coffee at four, and as sunrise approached, Cassian grabbed a bag by the door and he and Beau were walking out into the cool, muggy summer morning. It wouldn’t be long until the sun was beating down, drenching him in sweat.

Instead of heading toward the stables, Cassian went across the grass and the gravel driveway, and up the steps of the tiny, modern house that sat there.

He pounded on the door and Beau stayed in the yard, chasing his tail.

No answer.

He pounded his fist on the wood once more.

Nothing.

With a sigh, Cassian kept knocking, and didn’t stop. He pounded repeatedly on the door for at least thirty seconds when the door was thrown open, and Nesta stood there, looking like she wanted to set him on fire.

“What the hell?” She asked, voice raspy, hair a mess, body wrapped in a crocheted blanket.

“Rise and shine,” Cassian grinned. “Go on. Get dressed.”

Her eyes narrowed as she flipped on the porch light. Cassian lit up as she groaned from the brightness of it.

“You wanted to learn how things are done around here,” Cassian laughed. “Well, I start at sunrise, ever day.”

Nesta rubbed her eyes and snorted. “Unless you’re hungover.”

Cassian grinned. “Fair enough. Alright, go on, get dressed, I’ll wait.”

Nesta sighed but didn’t protest as she took a step back.

“Oh,” Cassian said, before she could close the door on him. “Here.”

He held out the bag.

She blinked. “What is that?”

“I kept telling you,” he said, shaking the bag until she took it. “You own a ranch. You need a pair of boots.”

“You...bought me boots?”

Cassian shrugged as she took the bag and shoved his hands into his pockets. “With your sisters’ help. Consider it your welcome home gift.”

Nesta was speechless as she slowly went back into her little house.

She didn’t bother closing the door, so Cassian stepped inside as she went back into her bedroom.

He looked around, although there wasn’t much inside. He noticed Elain’s old furniture, that he had helped move in upon Nesta’s arrival.

“Hopefully they fit,” Cassian said as he went to the little fridge in the kitchen and looked at the pictures that covered it. “I may have snuck a glance at your sneakers the other day when you weren’t looking to check for size.”

Nesta’s quiet laughter flooded through the hall. “Creep.”

Cassian grinned to himself as he studied a picture of the girls when they were young, smiling with their mother. Cassian had never met her. She died years before Isaac had hired him.

Nesta came out a minute later, and even in the dim lamplight, Cassian was breathless.

Her hair was pulled back in a high point tail. She wore jeans, a tank top, and an old flannel shirt, which remained open.

And her boots, which fit nicely.

“Okay, stop staring,” Nesta muttered. “I realize you’ve never seen me in boots and it’s shocking.”

Cassian cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded. “They look nice.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and her boots thumped toward the front door. “Yeah, yeah. Alright, let’s do this.”

Cassian allowed himself to watch her walk out the door and down the steps before he followed her out.

————

“Harder.”

Cassian grunted.

“Harder.”

He groaned, but did as he was told.

“Harder!”

Cassian was out of breath, but he said, “This is as hard as it gets, I don’t know what else you want from me.”

Nesta gritted her teeth, but still managed to roll her eyes. “I want you to try harder.”

He grunted and said, “Okay, okay, put it down. Stop pushing.”

They both moved away from the enormous roll of hay they’d been trying to roll through the south pasture. It had rained overnight, nearly doubling the weight of the hay and Cassian had suspected he needed a little more muscle than what Nesta had to offer.

“I’ll have to call Rhys,” Cassian said, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow. Nesta was folded at the waist, her hands braced on her knees.

“No, we can-.” She stopped to breathe. “We can do it. We got this”

He chuckled, “Nes, that hay weighs over 5 times your weight. We absolutely do not got this.”

Her lips tightened as she sized up the roll of hay. “We-.”

“Nesta,” Cassian breathed, laughing quietly. “It’s not a big deal. Your ability to move a roll of hay doesn’t dictate your ability to run a ranch. Well, own it, I run it.”

Nesta couldn’t help the smile that tugged on the corner of her mouth. “You’re incredibly annoying.”

“I know,” he grinned, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt, once more. Nesta’s eyes lingered a little bit too long on his abdomen, just above the waistband of his jeans, which were hanging loosely on his hips. He didn’t seem to notice as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Rhys. “Rhys will be over soon, I’m sure, he has the day off. Unless your sister kept him up all night.”

Nesta scrunched her nose. “No need to reference my sister’s sex life.”

Cassian’s grin widened as he put his phone back into his pocket. “You wanna go for a ride?”

Nesta stilled, and her hesitation made him howl.

“I meant on a horse, Nesta,” he said, unable to control his laughter. “Calm down.”

“Asshole,” she mumbled. Her cheeks were red, both from the sun they’d been in all day and the blush now tipping her ears as well. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I don’t have a horse. I’m okay.”

Cassian had an eyebrow raised. “You actually have eight.”

“I have-.” Nesta paused. “Oh. You’re right.”

But not Phoenix.

“Hey.” Cassian’s voice was soft and she looked up, not expecting him to be so close. His hazel eyes were the color of the forest floor. As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “You’ll never be able to replace him, Nes. You’ll never get back that bond with him. But that doesn’t mean you can’t build another bond with another horse.”

He was right, of course, but she hadn’t been on a horse in nearly a decade. The thought alone terrified her. Yes, she was beginning not to mind being back in Velaris, had even started enjoying herself while working on the B&B, but to ride again? She wasn’t sure if she was ready for such a huge step.

And it was.

A massive step.

Yet, Cassian’s eyes were so full of hope, and the way they watched her, so softly, Nesta couldn’t say no.

Didn’t want to say no.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Fine.”

Cassian slowly shook his head. “I need to hear you say it with a little more enthusiasm.”

Nesta pursed her lips and shoved him in the shoulder, which only made his cocky ass grin return.

“Come on,” she said, heading in the direction of the dilapidated stalls the horses stayed in. She walked about twenty feet before she realized he wasn’t walking with her. “What?”

Cassian chuckled. “You really were tired this morning, weren’t you?”

Nesta blinked. “You banged on my door at, like, three in the morning. Of course I was tired.”

“Okay, first of all, it was four thirty,” he said, laughing. “Second, follow me.”

Nesta wasn’t sure exactly how she’d missed it. He was right, she must have been half asleep to miss the framework nestled back into the trees between their two houses.

But this was not the basic stable and tack room she’d described to him.

No, this building was going to be massive.

“There are going to be sixteen stalls,” Cassian said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “The tack room is going to be on that side,” he indicated to the right. “And the lodge, will be to the left.”

“The lodge?” Nesta asked, turning to look at him. “Figured it might be nice to have a little getaway out here. If you don’t like it, I can scrap it from the plans, make this a second tack room or storage area.”

But Nesta wasn’t listening, she’d turned back to the massive framework of beams in front of her.

She breathed, “Cassian, it’s perfect.”

He scratched at the back of his neck. “It’s going to take me a while to finish-.”

“Tell me what you need and it’s yours.” There was no hesitation to her words. “We can even hire someone to help, if you want.”

Cassian chuckled, softly. “That’s okay. I got it. If I need help, I’ll ask Rhys and Az. They’ll be more than happy to help when they can.”

“I can’t believe you…” Nesta shook her head, and looked at him. “Put so much thought into it.”

He shrugged. “You asked for updated stables. I just did what I’m told.”

“You really do love this place, don’t you?” Nesta asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Cassian said, meeting her gaze. “I had a bad reputation, from a lot of stupid shit I did when I was younger. Your dad really took a chance on hiring me, but I’m grateful every day that he did. He gave me a sense of purpose, when I thought I didn’t have one.”

Nesta nodded, slowly, and did not back down from his gaze as she said, “I’m grateful, too. That you’re here. I’d be completely lost without you.”

Cassian’s eyes softened, and she thought he was going to say something sweet, but then he said, “Yeah...all the other ranchers in this town aren’t as sexy as me, so, you really did luck out.”

“Oh, cauldron boil me,” Nesta groaned and Cassian put his arm around her shoulder and steered her towards the house, towards the shed where the saddles and other tack was kept.

“Ahhh, I didn’t want it to get too sappy.” He said, grinning down at her. “But now, we’re gonna see if you’re really worth your salt on this ranch.” He stopped in front of the shed and unlocked the padlock.

“And what exactly does that mean?” Nesta asked, not so subtly watching the way his back muscles moved under the blue t-shirt he wore.

He turned and Nesta cleared her throat and looked at him. He had a lead rope in his hand.

“Time to go catch you a horse, Nesta Archeron.”

——————

As the sun was setting, Nesta and Cassian walked back from the pasture, laughing.

“I had no idea that you were the one that released the dissection frogs!” Nesta said, locking the gate behind them. “Was it in protest of animal cruelty or something?”

Cassian thought for a second. “No, but if I had gotten caught, that probably would have been a better excuse than the one I would have gone with.”

Nesta chuckled. “Which was?”

He smirked and said, “Because I got bored.”

Nesta froze and watched him walk the rest of the way to the shed. “You let over four hundred frogs loose because you were bored?”

He put the ropes back in their place and locked the shed up. “Yup.” The grin on his face told her he, indeed, was proud of himself. And she was grinning, too.

Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Do you want to come have dinner with me?”

Cassian’s eyebrows raised. “Tonight?”

“Tonight, tomorrow night, whenever.” She shrugged, trying to play it off as a casual offer, and not that asking had filled her stomach with butterflies as strongly as it had when she had her first kiss. “We can meet for dinner in the main house every night. There’s no need for us to both cook.”

His smile returned, but it was softer. “I’d like that.”

They headed back around the front of the house, Cassian rattling off his favorite foods, most of which consisted of red meat and starches. When they came around the corner, Nesta froze.

Cassian’s words trailed off as he stopped beside her. A little black truck had pulled up, old and rusty. But the girl that came out of that little, rusty truck was stunning.

Nesta looked over at Cassian, to see if he recognized the young woman.

And, oh, he definitely did.

“Emerie,” he said, uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come by to say hello,” she crooned, grin wide. Then, she seemed to notice Nesta for the first time. “Oh. Who are you?”

Nesta blinked, then realized she was being spoken to. “I own this property.”

“Oh,” she breathed, eyes growing wide with recognition. “Your Isaac’s oldest? Wow.” She looked Nesta up and down, and the gesture had Nesta seeing red. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Emerie.”

“I’ve heard,” Nesta muttered.

Cassian was fiddling with the hem of his shirt when he said, “You know, we’re a little busy, Em, why don’t you come back later?”

“Later works,” she said, sliding her hands in her back pockets. “I was going to see if you wanted to have dinner, too, but it seems like you’re...taken care of.”

Cassian cleared his throat and said, “Nesta and I were just-.”

“Just finishing up for the day,” Nesta interrupted. She turned to Cassian and the warm, playful nature he’d seen emerging earlier had gone cold. “Thanks for showing me the ropes. I really appreciate it.” She began up the porch steps and Cassian reached for her hand. He gently gripped her fingers.

“Nesta, wait, let me explain. It’s-,” he dragged his hand down his face, the callouses catching on his stubble. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“I fell for that once before,” she whispered, her fingers tightening in his. “I won’t fall for it again.”

A look of confusion crossed Cassian's face, but his hand dropped. Emerie had gotten the hint, had gotten back up into her truck and was backing out.

“Are you jealous?” He asked, and it was almost anger that replaced the spark in his hazel eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not jealous,” Nesta snapped. “But it’s really inappropriate-“

“If you say that word one more time, Nesta, I swear on the fucking cauldron-.” Cassian’s words faded away and he raked his fingers through his long, tangled hair. “Must I remind you that you didn’t want me?”

There it was.

The words hung between them as complete silence consumed them, Emerie’s old truck driving away the only thing to be heard.

Nesta stared down at him, hurt written plainly across her face.

Hurt.

He had expected her to be jealous of Emerie, but he didn’t expect to see pain roiling in the depths of her eyes.

“Nesta, I-.”

She cut him off. “Did you lie to me?”

He blinked up at her, the sunset making her hair glow. “What?”

“That night, I asked you point blank if you had a girlfriend,” Nesta said, voice wavering. “You said no.”

“No,” Cassian said, eyes growing hard. “I have never lied to you, Nesta, I’m not a fucking liar. Emerie’s just a friend. She comes by every now and then. I haven’t seen her in months. She only comes by when she wants something.”

“Sex?” Nesta asked, before she could stop the word from tumbling out of her mouth.

Cassian shook his head, ignoring the short question altogether. “It doesn’t fucking matter. But, I’ve never lied to you. And, if you think I would lie to you….fuck.”

She could see the anger brewing inside of him, could see the frustration, but Nesta didn’t care, because she was pissed. And yet, she had no reason to be. He was right. She had turned him down. She had no right to care.

She was hurt, though.

And that hurt grew when she saw the hurt, saw the anguish, in his own eyes.

“I didn’t lie,” he repeated, looking away from her, out toward the pastures. “I’m a lot of things, Nesta, but I’m not a liar.”

She knew he wasn’t, knew it in every fiber of her being.

She hadn’t even been back in Velaris for a month, had just started to open up to the complicated man in front of her. Day and night, he always found a way to creep into her thoughts, into her dreams. But she couldn’t afford to be vulnerable, couldn’t afford to get tangled up with the man she couldn’t get off of her mind, no matter what she may want.

Not when her father's dream was on the line.

So Nesta closed her eyes, trying to hide the tears that has silently started slipping down her cheeks.

She turned her back to him, and hurried up the stairs of the main house.

Cassian was calling her name, but she forced herself to keep walking, to open the door, enter the house, shut herself inside.

She leaned against the slab of wood, stayed their as her eyes filled with tears, even as Cassian knocked on the other side.

“Nesta,” he said, voice calm, quiet, broken. “Hey, open up, come on.” He knocked again.

Nesta didn’t move.

She stayed there, leaning against the door, listening to him knock, listening to him beg.

But no matter what he said, Nesta didn’t open the door.

#theranchnessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #fanfic #au #nessian #shara collab #sharacollab

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fijiangecko · 3 years

Text

Maintaining a New Life

Chapter 8 - In Motion

Read it on AO3 here

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~~~~~~

The sun had risen and set 3 times since each group began their hunts. Each day providing no new information and the hope of keeping each other safe felt as if it was getting farther and farther away. Kuroo, Oikawa and Iwazumi split off into two groups most of the time, Oikawa and Kuroo walking around town while Iwaizumi kept an eye out for any Port Mafia patrols and your car.

Iwaizumi refused to be alone with Kuroo, stating multiple times that he would “rather gauge his own eyes out then look at the fuckwad who drove out one of his best friends”. A tad bit harsh for Oikawa's taste, but he maintained the peace between the two whenever they brought tension to the table. Kuroo doesn’t mean to be irritating but there’s still so much he doesn’t understand, and these two don’t help in answering his questions since they don’t know much about your past and why you left.

On your end of things, you decided to lay low during the day and do some rounds on the streets at dusk and dawn. Largely things remained the same for the Port Mafia: they operated on the schedule you created and stuck to the same routine based on what vehicles and hangouts you’d seen so far.

Guess they really haven’t progressed all that much since I left, you think while watching the endless stream of cars. Washijo’s health wasn’t too good, and I can’t imagine it’s gotten any better with all the stress of transferring power and dealing with the mess that I left.

After little to no new information and more questions than answers, the weekend rolled around and the sun has started to hang lower in the sky. You lean against the counter in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea and listen to the birds sing from tree to tree. Looking to the clock, you sigh and set the mug down, heading towards the bedroom.

If everything goes according to plan, this whole operation should be relatively quick and you can just leave the club within an hour of getting in. You sift through what little clothes you have and get ready to blend in with tonight’s crowd; standard makeup, nothing too flashy, and a relatively short dress to match. None of your shoes really fit, so the black sneakers would have to do for now.

With a deep breath, you take a final glance in the mirror and mentally prepare for whatever the night has in store. You double check that your car is stacked with any you could possibly need and rev the engine, taking the dirt road down onto the streets.

The sun starts to set over the horizon, leaving the bright orange orb blaring down on the asphalt as the tires roll down the highway. You don’t bother to turn on the radio, deciding to run through the plan and all of the backups you have prepared. Through public records you were able to find the new layout plans for “The Neon Nights”, so you knew relatively where everything should be and how to get to it. That didn’t always translate into action, though.

Instead of chewing on your lip you moved onto the inside of your cheek, ripping it to shreds over the course of the past couple of days. You haven’t been this nervous in quite a while and it was really starting to fuck with your head.

Confidence and assurance were two very different things but often got confused for one another. Back at the ADA everyone just believed you to be confident, and that’s not to say that you weren’t. You know you are one hell of a detective, doing the work that needs to be done and doing it effectively, but it was more so that you knew you were safe and around people that were relatively safe as well. Standard protocol in the Port Mafia was not to fuck with others that had gifts. Washijo always stated that it was to keep the peace on the streets, but that was total bullshit. At the very least, you knew that while the ADA was on their radar, there wasn’t anything that they would be able to do in order to harm your friends.

Now everything was uncertain, there was no more assurance. You didn’t know if they were going to be safe. Tendou always did what he wanted and Washijo just turned a blind eye to it. Now he knows that you’re alive and in Yokohama.

On top of that, he saw you with the two of your right hand men that left shortly after you and a new man from the ADA. Tooru and Hajime were found out because you got careless.

The Port Mafia is also aware now of who Kuroo is and that he has connections to you. There’s always going to be a crosshair aimed at the back of his head if you don’t get into that club tonight and do everything you possibly can to erase those damn records of not only your existence, but everyone you care about too.

You blink hard, letting the colors settle behind your eyelids before reopening your eyes and focusing on the road. The stream of thoughts that just crossed your mind had left your heart and head pounding.

Nothing will happen to them as long as everything goes as planned. I’ll find the data servers and wipe whatever I can then skip town. Again, you go through the plan as the last bit of sun disappears around the edge of the world.

Coming to a slow halt, you park a few blocks away and walk the area in order to secure a teleportation spot and secure an escape route. The checklist in your mind finally had everything marked and every movement from now on was going to be almost robotic as you try to act like the crowd around you. Countless couples and parties line the edge of the building you once knew as a headquarters, the stink of alcohol present already from those who were leaving the venue for whatever reason.

By your lonesome you wait to meet the bouncer at the door, minutes passing as the line dwindles down until you can hear the muffled electronic music. The ground felt like it was shaking from the hundreds of people all dancing just a few feet past this wall. You peer around a few people ahead of you and make note of a pin on the bouncer's suit jacket, confirming that this club is still under mafia control.

You take another deep breath and just hope that news of your reappearance was just kept to the inner circle and henchmen like him weren’t informed quite yet of what was happening. The person in front of you walks inside the club, leaving you face to face with the man with shades. He looks you up and down, your heart picking up as you smile sweetly. Charm wasn’t your specialty but you know the basics. Without another moment to spare, he nods towards the mass of people and you quickly take your place inside the dark and dense room.

The music increases tenfold from when you were outside, feeling the bass changing the rhythm of your heartbeat. Hundreds of people crowd the center of the room, dancing to their hearts out while others line the bars stretched out on the walls.

You walk to the furthest side of the bar, mapping out where you are in your head and making note of little landmarks on the map you practically memorized. Figuring it would look more natural, you squeeze yourself in and order something. Partially to calm your nerves.

“And the devil herself appears.” Chills run up and down your spine, the voice of whomever just spoke stopping you dead in your tracks. They lean in real close,from behind, lips grazing your ear, their breath warm against your skin as they whisper to you. “Nice to see you Y/N.”

Cautiously you turn your head and face the voice, only to be met with a head of bleached hair and a sultry smile. “Miss me?” He says while placing his hands on his hips.

“Terushima.” The tension in your body hadn’t quite left, unsure of where his loyalties are makes your mind run a thousand miles per second. You prepare to portal out of the club, but his hand on your wrist interrupts everything.

“Let’s have a chat in the back, yeah?” Before you even know what’s going on, you're being dragged to one of the side hallways and up a set of stairs. You take in the surroundings the best you can while being pulled along and realize that he’s taking you back to what used to be the main office area.

Terushima pushes open a set of doors into a lounge area. A large sectional couch faces glass panes that showcase the entirety of the club and a small personal bar and desk line the other two walls in the room. He lets go of the hold on your wrist and beelines it to the alcohol and starts to construct his own drink.

You’re stiff as a board in the center of the room, still taking in everything that just happened in the last two minutes. He watches as you try and create a plan, and laughs out loud at your distraught. “I’m not gonna tell anyone you know.”

It’s like your body snaps when you move to look at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘I’m not going to tell anyone’.” He strains his cocktail into a glass and saunters over to the couch, sitting himself down. “I really don’t do any work with the Port Mafia since I manage the club. There’s no real benefit to me telling them.”

“Wait,” you blink and scrunch your face together as you follow him down onto the couch, “you manage the club now?”

“Bingo.” The amber drink in his hands disappears slowly as it glides down his throat. “After you left and Tendou took over your position they redistributed everything and wanted to change our little jazz club into a full blow nightclub for the younger people to come and party. I was pretty much the only person around that knew how to keep everything relatively in order, so here we are.” The one free hand Terushima has open lifts up off of his thigh and plops back down in a sort of defeat. His chocolatey spheres hold your gaze.

“And you gave up on singing?” It’s an honest question. The last time you both had a serious conversation was when Terushima was the main singer for your aforementioned jazz club.

“No, more like I took a break. I couldn’t really say no to the Port Mafia so I put my career on hold.” A pained expression flashes across his face before returning to his previous position.

“I’m really sorry Teru.” You scoot closer to him on the cushion, setting your drink down on the table at the center and resting a hand on his shoulder. It was the best consoling you got considering this is basically your fault.

“Don’t be.” He can see the guilt in your eyes and quickly dismisses them. “You did what was better for yourself. Anyone who couldn’t see that you were unhappy was stupid and it wasn’t a suprise when they told me you were gone.” He rests that free hand on top of yours and rubs circles onto the back of your hand while reaching down to place his drink on the same table. “I just thought that I would never see you again, so spotting you by the bar tonight really shook me to the core, y’know?”

The smile that finishes his sentence is wicked, lips curling up at the end. There was always something left unsaid between you both; light touches here and there, lingering glances from across the dimly lit club room and the handful of “dates” (according to him) shared between you two. It never went anywhere; he being the flirt he was made you very nonchalant about his advances. Plus there was the matter of his gift that made things complicated, so it was just better for you to stay out of trouble the best you could.

Things are different now, though. Terushima didn’t cause your chest to tighten or make the blood in your system rush to your cheeks when you thought of what it would be like to be with him late into the night, curled into one another and just simply being. No, that spot now belonged to a tall, lean and dark haired man that weaseled his way into your heart and mind by using his shitty science puns and awkward dancing when he was almost blackout drunk. Those nights of wondering what life would be like with someone else no longer contained bleach blonde hair or a tongue piercing, but the easy comfort that came from Kuroo Tetsuro.

“Yeah, about that.” Your grasp on his shoulder tightens, other fist clenching “Tendou saw me a couple days ago and I’m pretty sure he’s on the hunt. I need to find the P.M. servers-”

“So you came here to find them.” He cuts you off, but doesn’t finish the sentence with a question. He might be a playboy but he’s been through the ringer once or twice and knows that you just didn’t show up tonight to see him. “Unfortunately they moved them a couple of years ago to create an arms deal station in the basement. To my knowledge they took all that stuff to Club Impac-”

Suddenly a young lady busts through the doors, drunkenly falling onto the floor with her eyes completely unfocused on the area around her. A man in a suit comes rushing down the corridor, targeting the woman on the ground.

With many apologies the guard pulls the woman rather harshly off of the ground and looks up to once again ask for forgiveness from Terushima, but meets your cold eyes instead. The spur of the moment interruption caused you to turn around in your seat and watch the events unfold.

Unknown to you, this man had worked under Ushijima for years and had met your eyes years ago. He recognized the dead stare you were giving him currently, but continued pulling the woman out of the room. A bitter taste fills his mouth as he shuts the doors, immediately ditching the woman by the restrooms and walking to the head of security to inform him of the guest that just happened to be sitting up in the lounge.

“Anyways…” Terushima continues filling you in on what has happened logistically within the mafia since your leaving.

Roughly 30 minutes prior to that conversation, miles out into the outskirts of the city the three men who have been trying to catch you at the right time huddled around a coffee table and went over their plan of attack one last time.

“You both got it?” Iwaizumi flicked the last piece of paper in a file down onto the hardwood, looking between the two taller men. Wordlessly they both nodded and turned to grab their respective bags with the appropriate clothes for the night. Oikawa’s outfit was a little more classy then the others to match his personality, Kuroo and Iwaizumi going for something pretty simple just in case anything goes haywire, but with their final touches done up they were ready to set out for the night.

“Do you really think that she’s going to be here tonight?” Kuroo asked Oikawa while Iwaizumi called a taxi. They were a little behind schedule and missed the train, so they had to opt for something quick.

“Out of everything we’ve done so far, I think this is our best chance at catching her. This club used to be a faux headquarters for her. I’m almost positive that she’s either looking for a certain someone,” Iwaizumi catches the tone in Oikawa’s voice as he spoke, making eyes at him while he finished his sentence, “or that she left something behind.”

They both knew that you were fond of Terushima, but they also knew that you had moved on from all of that. You had your eyes set on someone else. That still didn’t mean that you weren’t there for him, but the idea that it was anything but business was a little far fetched.

“So you guys used to be there all the time?” The taxi pulled up to the curb, waiting for Kuroo and the others to hop in.

“Yeah. Every weekend she would have us come have drinks with her since we were her ‘groupies’, essentially .” Iwaizumi answered, using quotations with his fingers to get the point across. “It was more like a weekly check in but sometimes all we did was catch up with one another.”

The memories warmed his heart. He never once felt like he was working for you, but alongside you. You truly cared about their goals and ambitions, oftentimes ignoring the actual work that the Port Mafia wanted to get done and helping the citizens most in need. Coincidentally, that was how you made the most money and controlled the most area - the people liked you. Being in your squad was a different experience from every other job he had within the Mafia, and as soon as you disappeared he knew that he was going to have to get out sooner rather than later.

Oikawa felt the exact same way, and couldn’t imagine a life where he and Iwaizumi didn’t work together, so they devised a plan and faked their deaths in order to obtain what little freedom that would allow. Both knew that you weren’t dead, no matter how solid the evidence looked, and stuck their foot in the ground in Yokohama in an effort to find you. Two years later they accepted jobs as detectives with the ADA and walked in to see you, sitting at a desk, smiling and laughing with your fellow detectives.

The car ride was silent for the most part, the taxi driver asked a handful of questions before letting the radio fill the dead air. Iwaizumi kept track of how close they were and directed the driver to a few blocks off so they could walk up to the club (he really didn’t want to get this poor guy involved, so better to keep him out of it).

With a small wave from Oikawa, the boys head down the streets but their moods quickly shift as streams of people flood out of the building. The screams of hundreds fills the night air and the heavy footsteps of the three carry as closely as possible to the front entrance. Crowds topple over one another in an attempt to make it out safely as the sound of a single gunshot ricochets off of every surface, furthering the panic in the chests of innocents. Eyes flicking to every possible entrance, Kuroo feels deep down in his soul that you’re inside - you’re either the one firing or being fired at and either causes his chest to tighten, the neverending pit of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach somehow growing deeper. The three stand like a rock against a current of bodies, everyone just running past them and filling the space behind the group as they run.

Only a few moments before their arrival, Terushima and yourself were finishing your drinks and sharing a laugh when splinters flick off the set of doors, and single shot entering the room and shattering the large glass windows that look down on the dance floor. The initial panic takes a second to kick in before the patrons below start their scramble. Terushima’s instincts kicked in and he grabbed you rather harshly and shoved you down onto the ground, covering your body with his own.

“We know you’re in there Y/N!” The voice that spoke was unfamiliar to you, probably just some higher level goon that happened to know what was going on. While tucked under Terushima’s body, you open a small portal to the dashboard of your car and grab the handgun you left waiting. It always pays off to have a backup plan, you think while taking in the surrounding area. The men had yet to breach the room itself, leaving an opportunity for both of you to escape, whether that be jumping down onto the dance floor or using a portal.

“Teru,” his eyes focus on the door but you know he’s listening to your harsh whispers, “we can jump down and blend in the crowd-”

“No.” His jaw clenches, the lines on his face becoming harsher. “They deliberately shot at the window to lure us out there. The one talking is the head of this district so I’m sure every mobster in the area is here keeping an eye out for you.”

“Fuck…” your heart beats just as fast as your brain fires off thousands of different ideas. The crowd of people down below scream for help as they run out into the night and then another shot comes, this time it sounds like it’s from down below. In the crowd.

“Are they firing at civilians?!” Your mind spirals down. What the fuck are they thinking?

“One of those idiots might’ve thought that they saw you.” Terushima detaches himself from you and reaches under one of the tables, grabbing a hidden handgun and making sure it’s loaded.

As he checks the magazine, you muster up a portal big enough for a person to fit through, the other end looking out onto the streets. “Get in Teru. They’re after me.” You plead him with both your eyes and your voice, hands twitching around the cold metal of your pistol.

“Not happening sweetheart.” His smile is sly and coy, teasing you almost. “This is my club that they’re ruining and these people are my guests.” He gestures to the window and then to you, slowing the fall of his hand to emphasize his next words. “It’s my duty to protect them.”

Your lips tugs into a smile and you shut the portal. “Alright then.”

Down on the streets below the three men try to push up river through the endless streams of people running away from yet another shot. Women fall over, others trampling them in the fearful haze that covers the downtown. Iwaizumi rushes over and picks them up, shielding them from the hoards of shoes and getting them back on their feet.

SUV’s among other black vehicles speed around various street corners and men in suits start to surround the area, each fitted with different weapons of different calibers. Pressure grows in the small atmosphere of the downtown area, ears yearning to pop and get ahold of the situation but Kuroo doesn’t know if he would rather feel the throbbing in his head or the despair of hundreds.

Oikawa spins in circles, taking in every detail he can of the mayhem. Each of his senses feels like they’re on fire, enhanced from the sudden change in pace. It would be suicide to use his gift now, so the best he can do in trust his brain to intake whatever information is available.

The three converge after each attains their bearings and stand back to back. “What now?” Iwaizumi is forced to yell over the collage of sounds.

“We go in? I mean she’s gotta be in there, right?!” Oikawa shouts equally as loud, still turning his head around to look at the distressed faces. His voice comes out exasperated and rushed, his breathing picking up.

“Go in?! We can barely move five feet forward, how the fuck are we supposed to get in?” Kuroo takes the more logical stance, trying his best to find a solution to the problem at hand: what to do next.

Luckily, Oikawa, in his twisty turn around scavenger hunt, had spotted a fire escape on the side of the closest apartment building. If they wanted to get a height advantage and take a moment to clear their heads, that would be the spot. He shakes both of his companions shoulders and gestures his head to the ladder. Lightbulbs light up in their heads and slowly but surely they take small steps towards the iron bars, giving the people enough time to adjust to the change in current.

It only takes a minute or two to finally reach the ladder, Iwa hoisting Tooru with weaved fingers and will to lift with his legs, not his back. One handed, Oikawa pulls down the ladder and the three make their way to the landing.

The chaos seen from above is only less claustrophobic as it doesn't let their hearts take a moment to rest. Rather, showcasing the complete lack of control from anyone down below. Every person down below looks like a rat on the loose, caught at the wrong time as they scatter in all directions. Kuroo leans over the edge of the railing, trying to get a better view of the inside of the club.

“There’s a bunch of guys with guns pointed at the top room, part of the window was either smashed or shot at since it’s all over the floor.” Iwa observes to the left of Kuroo, also leaning over the delicate iron bars.

“Can you see in that top room?” Kuroo squints, but it doesn’t enhance his vision.

“Not really,” Iwaizumi starts to tilt his head in various directions, finding the best angle to peer inside that room. “Looks like there’s two people up there but I can’t make out any faces.”

“We should’ve brought Akaashi…” Kuroo mumbles to himself, at this point wondering everything that could’ve been different in this moment. “Well one of them has to be Y/N. I think that’s a given at this point.”

“That or she’s the woman one of the guys has hostage on the lower level.” Oikawa notes, gesturing to each of them to come to where he stands and uses his hand to try and guide their view to a better position.

You also take note of the hostage, peeking down from the remains of the windows. The thought that the Port Mafia is now so low that they would take hostages in order to obtain an ex-member leaves a bad taste on the tip of your tongue. Cold metal brushes your chest as you keep your gun close to your chest. Being as silent as possible, you carefully crouch around the room and get eyes on everything you can.

Terushima had taken off his blazer just a few seconds ago, throwing it over the edge of the couch and creeping closer to the double doors. He listens to whatever words he can make out through the veil of screams and footsteps, retaining only the name “Tendou”.

His head turns to yours from across the room, mouthing the words “Tendou is coming”.

With a clenched jaw, you turn back to the dance floor and see that two more girls were being kicked onto the ground, making a total of three hostages. Hands cover their ears as they plead for their lives.

“Alright Y/N! You’ve got one choice: you either turn yourself over right now or you sit and wait until Satori gets here and we kill those girls and Terushima!” Whoever spoke before loudy shouts again, the words bouncing off of every glossy surface of the club.

GODDAMMIT! Sweat builds in the palm of your hands, the bass from the speakers making the miniscule shards of glass on the ground shake; bits and pieces falling off the ledge and into various crevices in the tile. There’s really only one thing left to do, you think to yourself and Terushima watches as the familiar cerulean hue starts to color the very lines of your body.

A portal opens to your left, the circle opening up to a view of the entryway of the building. From this vantage point you can see a group of men, all in suits and with their weapons either pointed at the hostages or the balcony. Without hesitation you aim the barrel of the gun at the closest guy and fire at his leg. The bullet enters his calf muscle, leaving through the shin and he immediately keels over. Other men are alerted by the sound and turn quickly to find the source. Like a trained soldier you close and open various portals, one at a time and in dissimilar spots to try and confuse them, and fire potshots at whoever catches your eye first.

Arguing continues between Kuroo and Iwaizumi as they battle on what to do next; one trying to approach the situation like it’s made of delicate porcelain and the other ready to give blood, sweat and tears. Oikawa refuses to let his eyes leave the club, and it proves to be useful as rifts start to open and close within the confined space. His eyes dilate and once again he slaps Iwa on the shoulder mid sentence.

“What the hell Shittykawa?!” Iwa gnashes, foam practically running down the side of his mouth.

“She’s making her move.” Dominos start to fall, but for once in a very long time the two don’t know what lies at the end of the line. Kuroo can’t believe what he’s seeing - he’s only ever seen you use your gift sparingly and in desperate situations, never to an extent such as this. The last piece of the puzzle finally goes into place as it dawns on Tetsuro that this is life or death. There is no playing around and there are no wrong moves.

“Alright Iwaizumi: I’m in.”

The aforementioned turns to him with a blank expression, a little unsure of what to do now. Oikawa watches as Kuroo claps his hands together and squats down and it hits him all at once; this is the first time he’s ever seen Kuroo’s gift in any capacity. Satisfied with the warm feeling on his skin, Tetsuro releases his hands and places them on the iron below, the space surrounding them glowing like they do.

In an instance, the vibrancy dies down and on the landing lies two items in a similar shape to hand grenades. A smirk tugs at his features and he states, “We’ll get in with these.”

Their jaws drop and Tooru starts to huff in disbelief, “I can appreciate your tenacity Kuroo-san but that seems like overkill.”

“Seriously…” Iwa adds sarcastically, slightly sticking out his arm to act as a shield between the two.

The smile disappears quickly and Kuroo brings a hand up to rub his brows. “They’re smoke grenades…”

Forming an ‘o’ with his mouth, Tooru starts to nod his head and Hajime drops the raised arm. “I knew that.”

Licking his lips, Kuroo passes one of the grenades to Iwaizumi and mouths “of course you did” to silently mock them. At least they share a brain cell.

Another few minutes pass, the gang of men make their way back down the ladder and into the frey. During that time you remain using the same tactic, effectively avoiding any unwanted attention from the growing crowd of henchmen. More had been called in after your initial shot, the head honcho making plays over the various walkie talkies.

You close a portal and let your chest heave, taking long deep breaths and settling down. The spacing of your shots has been growing larger to keep the suspense up, but in this timeframe you create a mini portal to grab a new magazine and reload. You close your eyes and let the noise wrap you like a blanket, surrounding you and taking precedence over every other sense in your body. Right as you whip to the right and start to open a rift, the small tinks of metal on concrete are drowned out.

Slowly, smoke swirls around the dance floor, rising and expanding out in all directions. Another can sputter to life and causes the room to turn opaque. Light bounces around in rays that color the white sheet that now fills the room.

Right outside the doors of the club Iwaizumi charges up his ability, letting a firm feeling prick every inch of his skin before ramming himself through the doors. Tooru sticks to his back and fires at every shape he can make out through the fog, Kuroo acting as the kaboose and covering any stragglers that those two seem to miss.

From your end of things, the room starts to fill with white and immediately you shut the gateway, watching from your perch as the fog dissipates right as it reaches your feet. Terushima also evaluates the situation, deciding to take the chance and barge out of the doors and tackle whoever is closest. Unfortunately he didn’t think super far ahead and that leaves you in a compromising position.

Gunfire fills the hallways of the building, but the light that flashes up on the second level lets Kuroo know that shit’s going down. Without hesitation he leaves formation and hauls ass down the hall and up some stairs. Four men in total block his path to you, two being on the floor and the other two shooting in your general direction.

It’s as if red seeps into his eyelids, rage pumps through his veins at a level he thought himself incapable. The barrel of his gun points down at the thigh of one of the standing men. As soon as the bullet hits its mark he rushes the other one and knocks him upside the head with the butt of the gun. In less than three minutes Kuroo had entered the building and knocked out two guys in order to rush to your side.

A wedge was pushed in the cogs in your brain, halting all functions and making your eye twitch. Kuroo squats down to meet your eye level and stares at you with piercing golden eyes. His pupils dilate when they meet yours which are full of confusion, then disbelief and finally annoyance.

“You fuckin’ asshole.” The words should be lost to the mirage of the night, but they’re the only things Kuroo can hear.

Almost scared, he reaches forward and curls his fingers around the flesh of your forearm and responds. “Let’s get out of here.”

Whatever shock that stopped your brain had washed over and now it felt like everything was moving too quickly in order to catch up. The fog was starting to clear and you can make out the figures of both Oikawa and Iwaizumi down on the dance floor below, watching each other's backs. Terushima stands near the edge of the balcony and joins them in taking down what seems to be an endless stream of goons.

He turns to you and winks, a silent goodbye as Kuroo grabs a tight hold of your arm and pulls you off of the ground. It’s a blur as you leap over several unconscious men and down the stairs. Whatever crowd was left was thin at best, no civilians in sight and many mafia members toppled over. Iwaizumi steps backwards towards you two, Oikawa shifting himself so the three act as armor around you.

Just as swift as the entrance, the boys shove you along and out into the streets. The screeching of tires alerts the four of you, yet another SUV speeds down the narrow streets of the downtown.

“Fuck” you whisper and get your bearings. Your legs are quicker than your brain and you shout, “follow me!” Your two fellow ex-members are already by your sides and Kuroo lags behind. Quickly you throw the keys to Iwaizumi. “When we get to the car, just drive. Doesn’t matter what streets you go down.”

Yet again Kuroo watches as the three of you work together like a well oiled machine, Hajime practically ripping the door off of its hinges and shaking the car as he sits. Tooru follows suit on the passenger side and deja vu strikes hard once Kuroo gets his but down into the seat.

Iwaizumi revs the engine and rapidly turns the wheel from side to side as the car skids and jolts into the center of a major road.

“Whatever happens, just keep her in the center of the road!” You whirl around and face the rear windshield, spotting the vehicles that now tail you all. Luckily the night means less traffic and Hajime can keep to the center of the road. Whoever was driving this late at night veers out of the way as the street turns crowded with several cars turning corners rather fast and joining in with those that already follow you.

You roll down the window next to you and start to shoot blindly out of the side, not daring to stick your whole body out of the car like last time due to the sheer amount of firepower that would be sure to hit you. Kuroo and Oikawa do the same as you, Kuroo ducking his head while doing so just in case any bullets come flying in through the back window and Oikawa tries to use the side mirror to aim his shots.

Not even two minutes since this drive began and cop cars light up the road ahead, about three quarters of a mile in front.

“Uhh Y/N! We got a problem!” Iwaizumi white knuckles the steering wheel and starts to turn it, planning on going down one of the side streets to put all threats behind your car. You whip your head around and evaluate the situation, quickly realizing that this is an opportune moment for something you’ve been keeping up your sleeve.

“You better keep this car in the center of the road Hajime or so help me God I will kill you before anyone else has the chance!” You scream and place yourself in the center of the back bench which gives you a relatively clear view of the road. Breathing in through your nose and out with your mouth, you clap your hands together much like Kuroo did earlier in the night. Continuing your breathing pattern, Hajime returns the car to the center of the road.

“Step on the gas.” You command, your eyes closed in concentration.

“Y/N are you sure?!” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in Iwaizumi’s questioning, but more of a confirmation of action.

“Just fucking do it!”

The clock ticks down as both forces start to close in. Five seconds before impact: the cops are unsure what to do. Some stopped their vehicles and were preparing road spikes while the others continue charging forward and speak through the sound system, warning you all of what’s going to happen. The Port Mafia also starts to slow down as they are just as confused as the police. No one really knows what you have in plan, but those in charge of each group are determined to get to the bottom of things.

Four seconds to go and the pit at everyone’s stomach grows a size larger; a faint sapphire glow emanates just from your hands and Kuroo watches curiously. The phrase trusting someone with your life had never meant much to him, but in this moment he really understood the complete lack of control he has.

Three; Oikawa sits up right in his seat and straps himself in, also closing his eyes to alleviate the stress of the scene before him.

Two; the glow around your fingertips has grown exponentially into something almost blinding. Iwaizumi steadies the wheel and fights the urge to jerk the car.

Right before impact with the front runner the view of a country road lined with trees fills Hajime and Kuroo’s eyes. The car barely fits into the rift and bounces up and down. You weren’t able to align the two roads perfectly off of memory, so you opted to have it a little high up. Kuroo checks behind them and the road is empty. No sight of any buildings or vehicles - just a clear sky and the wilderness that surrounds them.

Tooru didn’t realize he was clutching onto his chest strap until he opens his eyes and lets out a breath he was holding. Hajime adjusts quickly to the new territory and slows the car down some, leaning back into his seat. Kuroo, amazed that you were in the clear, turns to you, but your head is lolled to the side.

“Y/N?” Ever so gently, he shakes your shoulder and your eyes crack open. You turn to face him and blood is streaming from one nostril, down your face and dripping onto your shirt. He freezes up, just now realizing how much this whole ordeal must’ve taken out of you.

A tissue appears in front of both of your faces, Tooru’s hand attached to it. “You always pull that stuff off last second even though you could’ve just done it as soon as we got in the car.”

“Fuck off,” you sound drained and totally devoid of any emotion. “If we can get out of it without having to port out then we’ll do it that way, but the cops got in the way.” You take the tissue and start to wipe up whatever you can, your movements slow.

“Are you alright?” Kuroo is unsure of his place, a total contrast from inside the club when he was the most assertive you had ever seen him.

“Loaded question.” You want so badly to drop them off on the side of the road and hope that they just leave you alone, but your eyes blur every few seconds and you know that you are in no position to drive. Several emotions bubble up at the thought that they kept looking for you, put their lives on the line to find you and actually ended up saving you.

Effectively dodging the question, you slide back over to your side of the car and place your head on the window, giving Hajime directions to your home. They’re smart enough to know that now isn’t the time to talk, nor is it the time to ask questions like “what’s next?” and so on.

The high beams of your car light up the large house at the end of the gravel road, your headache nearing its end and the boys all ogle at your property. A flick of his hands and Iwaizumi turns the car off, then steps out into the cold air. He takes a few steps back and precariously opens the door you’re leaning on. With careful consideration, he crouches down and tries to let you use him as a crutch, but in all the time you had to think on the ride here, you shove him off and stumble a bit.

Gaining some balance, you speak with an unwavering tone. “What you did tonight was stupid. All of you.” You turn and meet each of their eyes, Kuroo and Oikawa still on the other side of the car. “I explicitly told you all not to get involved and still you fucking showed up.”

They all freeze at the accusatory finger you’re pointing and watch as you start to back yourself up to the entryway. Iwaizumi, who normally decides to let Tooru charm his way out of things, is the first to speak. “You’re right.” His eyes bore into your own, but he continues. “But that doesn’t change the fact that if we weren’t there you would’ve been fucked.”

“As if.” You spit back, not thinking clearly as you’re more focused on getting your own point across. Hajime only started fights when he thought it was absolutely necessary. This didn’t cross your mind, but Tooru’s as he realizes the upcoming screaming match.

“As if?!” His voice booms over the forest, possibly shaking the leaves on the trees. “You were backed into a fucking corner Y/N! For god's sake, did you think Terushima was gonna be able to help you out of that shitshow?” He stops his assault for a moment, seeing if you would answer but you grind your teeth instead. “You needed our help. We’re the ones that got you out of that situation-”

“Hajime-”

“No Tooru! She doesn’t get to disappear behind everyone’s backs and tell us NOT to find her! Especially not us.” Tooru purses his lips, knowing that he’s right. Tooru would’ve thought that maybe after the first day or two you would contact them, allowing them to help, all things considered. He knows where Hajime is coming from and ultimately decides to let him continue. “She sure as fuck doesn’t get to tell us that we didn’t help either. I know damn well that once we all cool off you’re gonna have to apologize and admit to me that I was right.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that you still decided to follow me.” You're quick with your rebuttal. “I’m trying my best to protect you all-” A cackle catches you mid sentence, and you watch as Iwaizumi rests a hand over his face and laughs, shoulders shaking. “What? What’s so hilarious Hajime?”

“Do you really think that we need protecting?” His eyes peek through the cracks in his fingers, a sly smirk curling his lips.

“Maybe you don’t but the Port Mafia knows now that I’m involved with the agency. For the safety and protection of everyone I need to erase myself from their records and go away.” This is your retreat. You can feel your own arms wrap around your form and start rubbing slow circles into your sides. The more you think about it, the more you realize that you’re just pleading for them to live. Or pleading with them to leave you with the idea that they’ll be living a peaceful life without you.

“You do know who you’re talking about, right?” Iwaizumi takes his hand off of his face and glares at you. “You got Bokuto, who is an accidental genius; Sugawara and myself who act like human shields; Tanaka and Nishinoya who are the wildcards; Kenma and Asahi who can heal practically any injury and Kuroo, who can literally create a bomb if he has the right materials within his vicinity.” As he lists off the various members he sticks fingers up and counts. “I don’t think they need as much protection as you seem to think. I bet everyone’s losing their shit right now since you just walked out and now the three of us have been M.I.A. for almost a week.”

While he presents a pretty good argument, it feels like it just goes in one ear and out the other. Your only goal right now is to get them to understand that you don’t want them here. Anything you can do to save them is the top priority, and having them here with you is a fucking nuisance. “I don’t give a rat's ass about any of that! You and Torru have seen what the Port Mafia is capable of and there’s is nothing that is going to stop them from finding me! If that means blowing up the agency building, they will! You know Tendou will do anything and Washijo will just let him!”

“Y/N.” The desperation in your voice is becoming more apparent with each word as your sentences speed up and your tone gets higher and higher. Oikawa walks around the car and stands next to Hajime, taking your beat of silence as a cue to speak. “You know you can’t say that anymore. We haven’t been with them for years. Washijo might be too sick to even speak.”

“Plus everyone at the agency knows what this job entails.”

“You don’t get to talk Tetsuro.” He stands behind the two, and honestly your rage was so hyper focused on Oikawa and Iwaizumi that you forgot he was there. You snap at spit back. “It’s not a matter of knowing what they signed up for more than a problem of the Port Mafia doing whatever they want.”

“That’s why we’re here to help you.” Tooru still stands between you and the others, the mediator. “You know that we’ll do everything we can, everything you say, in order to protect them. Tendou didn’t just see you that night. Obviously he doesn’t care all that much about us but we’re on their records too so it’s not just your problem.”

“I can’t fucking do this right now.” It feels like no one is listening to you, just throwing water in the tank you’re already drowning in. With a sigh and balled fists, you come to a hasty decision. “You can all stay here tonight. I expect you to be gone by midday.” Without a chance to speak, you storm into the house and start preparing mats for them to sleep on.

Tooru runs his tongue over his teeth, lips shut and starts tapping his foot. There were a thousand different possibilities for how tonight could’ve gone - this being one that wasn’t on his radar. Hajime feels the frustration bubble over, but he knows there’s not much else he can say that will get to you. Focusing his attention on Tooru, he pats his shoulder and says, “She’s not gonna budge. C’mon.” The two walk into the house, following the lights and let you finish preparing their room.

Swiftly you finish fluffing the pillows and brushing past them, avoiding any contact, any chance for them to stop you. You slide open the door for the next room over and raid the closet, setting the room up for Kuroo.

“Y/N wait.” For one reason or another, you stop your actions and look to the aforementioned, him standing in the doorway. With a final push of your muscles, you throw the mat down on the floor and wait for what’s next. “I just wanted to say that- that I want to do everything I can to help you. I know it’s not much but Iwaizumi and Oikawa have been doing so much and I really think that-”

“Go to bed Kuroo. You guys are gonna have a long day making your way back into the city tomorrow, so you’re gonna need all the sleep you can get.” You shoulder check him, leaving the room and the yet to be unfurled bed mat on the floor.

In the late hours of the night you find yourself tossing and turning. The entirety of the past few hours replayed in your mind, every situation rewinds and restarts as you analyze the points that the guys made. You wouldn’t have lived through last night if it wasn’t for them. There’s no way in hell Tendou wouldn’t have gotten his hands on you if it wasn't for them.

You sit up, sweat dripping off of your brow bone and everything starts to feel like it’s closing in. The four walls around you feel like hands around your throat and your chest heaves. Throwing off the duvet you stand up and stretch, the small pops and clicks from your back. After a few moments you slide open the door and step into the hallway, heading to the kitchen to start a kettle.

Maybe you were being a little harsh on them earlier. Tendou was a real threat and only sought you out, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that whoever that boy was with him a few nights ago seemed to recognize you, Oikawa and Iwaizumi. They were there with you through thick and thin when you had to organize almost half of the mafia’s patrol cars, pickup sites and so much more. You went above and beyond to prove to that old fucking geezer that you deserved to be in your seat as an executive. Tooru and Hajime did nothing but support you, even after they discovered that you did in fact fake your death and worked as a detective in the same city they thought you abandoned. Even after that they still treated you like nothing happened.

The kettle whistles and you take it off the heat, trying your best to stay as quiet as possible in the early morning hours. Preparing a tea strainer and some leaves, you grab a mug and start to assemble everything. As the tea steeps, you open the back door and let the cool breeze engulf your body.

The wood that covers the porch is cool to the touch, the soles of your feet uncomfortable, wanting to go back inside but you continue forward. The only things warming you under the cascade of stars is the mug between your hands and a blanket you placed around your shoulders. You venture off of the porch onto the soft moss that tickles your toes. Further into the trees is a small creek, in which you placed a few hardwood chairs.

No distractions, you allowed yourself to continue your train of thought from earlier. Once it fully settles in your consciousness that they are in their own right to want to be a part of this battle. Just as much was on the line for them as it was for you, and it never really hit until now.

So what would happen if I let them stay?

This was the real kicker. And before you knew it, you were going through every possible scenario you could think of, listing the pros and cons of having a team to work with rather than only relying on yourself.

The moon shifts throughout the night sky as you get up a few times to refill your cup, and before you know it rays of sunshine start to peer through the fog that settles under the canopy of leaves. With a new piping cup in your hands you resume the various tracks of different decisions. Inside, Kuroo slowly cracks open his eyes, the sunshine peeking through the blinds and the birds chirping. In the other room Iwaizumi sighs heavily and looks over Tooru. Shadows define his jaw and cheekbones, even accentuating the curve of his lips and the flutter of his lashes when he finally opens his eyes.

“G’morning.” Hajime’s voice is scratchy, his eyes red from the haziness that comes in the morning.

“Morning.” With a smile, they both take their time getting up and ready for the day.

Kuroo straightens out his clothes (which he slept in) and walks out into the living room. He notes the kettle and jars of loose tea leaves on the counter, also noting that you’re nowhere to be seen. The door to your room is open as well, arousing his suspicion.

A glance passes between the two men as they each put back into their clothes. First it was Hajime trying to catch a glance at Tooru, and then vice versa just a few seconds later. They stumble around one another, pick dusting their cheeks but neither speaks.

A knock at the door interrupts their game of cat and mouse along with a voice. “Have you guys seen Y/N?”

Hajime finishes the buttons of his shirt and slides the door open. “No? She’s not here?” It’s like last night all over again, the panic bubbling in his chest.

“I haven’t seen her at all, and her room’s empty. I think she’s around since the car is still here and there’s stuff on the counter, I was just wondering if you guys heard or saw her?” Kuroo fidgets with his fingers, picking at the cuticles with his nail.

“You checked all the rooms?” Hajime takes command of the situation, stepping out of his room and into the living space.

“Yeah, all empty.” Kuroo follows him and Oikawa behind Kuroo.

“Well the back door is open, so…” Tooru nods towards the door although no one sees it.

Without another word the trio walk into the forest, taking in the scenery before them. Calm was the one word that came to mind. Branches crunch under their heels, alarming you to their presence.

They can see your figure up just ahead and slow their roll. Kuroo stops in his tracks and just looks at you bathing in the golden sunlight, hair disheveled and eyes baggy once you finally turn and face them.

“Morning boys.” You sound and look tired, each of them knowing that you probably didn’t get any sleep at all but continue down the path to meet you. With a single gesture you get them to sit in the chairs beside you. You say nothing as you drink the cold tea - or what’s left of it at this point.

“What’s going on up there Y/N?” Oikawa pokes his temple and looks at you with the most sincere eyes. It’s not like the question wasn’t just on his mind, but the silence was starting to kill him.

“I did a lot of reflecting last night,” you start, setting the small cup onto the moss and straightening up. “For starters, I hope you all can forgive me for the way I treated you last night. It was unfair and I finally get that we’re all fighting for the same thing. You all have just as much reason to fight the Port Mafia as I do.” You make eye contact with each of them individually as you try to convey remorse.

They each take it the same, knowing that adrenaline was high and that you meant the best for all of them. If anything, Hajime knows that the both of you will need to have a one on one conversation later to clear the air.

“As for what I said last night,” you turn your eyes downward, knowing that you can’t bear to stare at their eager eyes, “I thought about it, and I want to take it all back. If you want, I could use the extra hands.”

Silence settles again, but Tooru doesn’t let it last long. He stands up from his chair and rushes over to give you a big hug. His arms encase you and he puts his head close to your shoulder. “Thank you.”

It catches you off guard, but tears build in your eyes. What did you ever do to deserve them? “Of course. I knew you guys weren’t gonna leave me alone once you knew where I've been hiding.”

“Damn straight.” Hajime joins the hug, placing his head on your other shoulder.

Kuroo stays in his seat and watches the scene unfold, not wanting to ruin a second reunion. He goes back to fiddling with his fingers and looking at the ground until the three of you break off from one another. You walk over to him and place a hand over his, preventing him from doing any more damage to his hands. Maneuvering them in a way to grasp one of his hands, he looks up at you, the rays of sunshine behind you, filling the forest.

Holding onto his rough hand and smiling down on him, you say “Let’s get to work.”

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Yamata-No-Orochi: (Part 4) Erii

ITT: The Mic Drop Heard Round the World.

The sun woke you. Bright light shone through the windows, forming a halo around the curtains and projecting the shape of raindrops from the window onto the carpet. Mingfei had left shortly before you fell asleep of exhaustion and grief.

You’d fought hard and rebelled against the world, but this last rebellion had taken you too far. Z raised, saved, and safeguarded you. But you refused to play his love game, and that was all it took to discard you. Caesar had been at your side, encouraging you to live all this time. But now that the clouds had gathered, and the darkness of the world surrounded you, he realized that, like Chance, life was not in the cards for you. And Chu Zihang? Well, he always was a sword at your throat.

Once again the world was laughing, mocking you with its silent game of keep away. Love? Syke! Happiness? Syke! Companionship? Syke!

You hated this world. Mingfei went to Erii’s room with the Desert Eagle. What was stopping you from planting your mind in the ground and tilting Tokyo into a rift in the Earth, like it was the undersea Takamagahara? To watch its towers topple, and its buildings burn would be a fitting end to a Godzilla movie.

The hotel phone rang, insanely loud. You reached over and picked it up. “Pizza Hut,” you mumble.

Lu Mingfei stammered for a moment. Then he laughed. “Hey. You, me, Erii road trip. Right now. I left some clothes for you.”

His voice over the phone, it sounded like Z’s. You are silent, mind completely inert, spirit aching. “Sure whatever.” You hang up.

You shower and pull a comb through your hair three times, leaving it to fall over your shoulders. You don't bother with jewelry or make up. He left you a pair of skin tight jeans and a shirt that said Wild Thing across the front. White ankle socks and blue low rise canvas sneakers go over your feet.

The phone rings again. Mingfei sounded breathless. “Come now! We have to go!”

You hang up the phone and dash outside. Mingfei is waiting for you in a cherry red porsche. Erii waves with bright enthusiasm from the passenger side as he gets out and folds the seat down so you can get in the back. “Erii this is my friend, MC, She’s sick like you.”

You startle. Mingfei just went out and said it. You hold out your hand and she takes it, examining your fingers with her dark red eyes. You were lighter skinned, but this girl was near transparent. She scribbled on a notepad. “Nice to meet you. You are very pretty.”

“Guys buckle up!”

Your seatbelt had just clicked when Mingfei down shifted and floored it. The engine let out a mighty growl and the car took off like a rocket down the street. But Mingfei was relaxed, with an impish, ‘catch me if you can’ sort of look. Something in your chest stirred awake.

Erii held up her notebook. “Sakura is the best, right?”

Her smile was so sly, not something you expected to see. “Oh yeah, he's awesome!”

Her nod was sassy, like, Damn Straight.

You look at him again. He was smiling like he was angry. He was acting recklessly. The buildings were a blur outside the windows. The car rumbled like a beast underneath you as the accelerator didn't let up. You weave through traffic like lightning and soon the police are tailing you with flashing lights.

If you thought you were going fast before you were mistaken. The car dug deeper, and it felt like you floated over the road. The police car faded into the distance, unable to keep up.

He pulls into a service station and pays the attendant way too much cash. “Where are we going?” You ask.

“It's a surprise!”

“Does MC like gum?” Erii held out a piece and you helped yourself.

You lean forward. Erii was covered head to toe in clothing, despite the good weather.

“MC said that Erii is not stupid, that Erii is smart. MC was right, you knew a lot about yourself. But MC was sad so I wanted to take her too.” Lu Mingfei was saying. “Because she cares for Erii and understands her.”

Erii looks at you for a moment. Then she wrote in her notepad, “Cheer up. Sakura is very lucky. Thank you for caring about me.”

Her expression was so earnest and happy. Did she really understand herself? You hold out your hands for the notebook and pen. You write, “I'm too sick so my friends are scared of me.”

She takes one look at the notepad and her eyes widen. She snatches it back and writes, “Erii is not scared, Erii will be your friend.”

“Please be my friend.” You say softly.

Erii reaches out and seizes your arm. Her face is serious and she nods. When you stop at the supermarket, she drags you along, purchasing snacks and a gigantic stuffed teddy bear. Erii was not interested in herself. She wanted to cheer you up! She understood beyond words the lifelong loneliness, the constant rejection, and growing up in a world that feared you. She forcefully shoves the teddy bear into your hands. And pulls you along. It's so big you can't see around it.

Her image blurs with that of Renata. If Renata had a chance to grow up, she would be this bold.

The bear is so tall it folds against the low ceiling of the porsche. You squeeze in next to it.

“MC is from Siberia. Where she is from, the sun doesn't set in Summer. And in Winter, it doesn't rise and lights dance in the sky.” Mingfei says as you take off again.

Erii swivels in a full body, “What?!” expression and you laugh. “It is true. It's exactly like that.”

“That is AWESOME!” She turns the notepad to you and then writes, “I want to visit your home!”

You recall your promise to Caesar to go dog sledding and feel a pang of regret. But your mind has already replaced Caesar on the dogsled and put Erii there. “Let’s go dogsledding!”

She looks confused.

“Here give me your notebook.” You draw a sketch of a dog sled pulled by a team of panting dogs.

If Erii’s eyes got any bigger they would fill her face. She wrote, “IS THERE SANTA IS HE THERE”

“I… no Santas not there, but we can pretend to be Santa.”

“MC is awesome!”

Before dusk, Lu Mingfei and you two ladies arrived in the town at the southwest end of Shikoku, which is more than four hundred kilometers from Tokyo. The Porsche sports car ran for a full four hours. The whole time Erii peppered you with questions about life in Siberia while Mingfei drove. She had the impression of a magical frostland full of sky and sea. Her sparkling impression was free of brutal reality. For four hours you spoke only of the beauty and wonder of the north. Erii’s notebook is filled with sketches of white quail, snow geese, cute arctic foxes, bears, seals, and whales.

The open-air parking lot was empty. Lu Mingfei found a parking space to park the car, and opened the door to hear the tide. You could not see the sea. A large hill stood between you and the ocean. The waves sounded like reverberating between the sky and the earth.

"The sea?" Erii wrote to Lu Mingfei, with excitement in her eyes.

Lu Mingfei nodded his head as an answer.

Ah the ocean… maybe four hours ago you might have been upset to meet up with the water. Now you just laugh.

Erii looks at you curiously.

“Did you know I got to ride dolphins?”

Erii practically staggers.

“If you're lost in the ocean, sometimes dolphins will rescue you.” You hook her arm in yours. “They're big and strong and won't let you drown.”

“MC knows so much.”

“Erii knows a lot about Erii’s world. I know a lot about mine.”

Erii nods and smiles.

Lu Mingfei pulled out the compass, opened the long-prepared map, and took you to the town not far away. The sign in front of the town reads Umezuji-cho. At this time of the year, the streets of Tokyo must be bustling with people, but in this small seaside town, there are no people on the streets, only a group of elementary school students in school uniforms passing by.

Mingfei seemed to be in a rush, but Erii dallied with you, asking questions and marveling at the tofu shop, or the batik store. More than once, Mingfei had to come back and usher you forward. He clearly had some sort of plan in mind.

You find out that he hurried was so you could catch the last mountain tram, which was built next to the town's shrine and had a 45-degree angle track that made a staccato sound as you climbed.

On both sides of the track there are dense trees. These trees cover the track like thick clouds, and it is as if you are walking through a tunnel of ever-changing colors, a tunnel made purely of foliage and flowers.

Both you and Erii are stunned with wonder. You did not have such dense forests like this growing up. The air is full of birdsong and frogs and early season cicadas. You feel someone take your hand. Erii points to your face. A bright tear shone there like a pearl. You didn't know you had shed it.

"Sakura is not Japanese, right? How do you know such a beautiful place?" Erii wrote in her little notebook.

"I saw a drama made in Japan. This is a very famous scene from that drama. I saw that drama a long time ago."

"What was the name of that TV series?"

"Tokyo Love Story." Lu Mingfei wrote one stroke at a time.

"I liked that Japanese drama so much that I searched the Internet for all kinds of information about Ehime Prefecture, and finally learned that the ending scene was filmed in Umezuji Town, and that the school and the separate stations in the drama were real. I had always dreamed of traveling to Umetsuji-cho and had done a lot of homework.”

You and Mingfei did not really know each other. You did not think he was this level of a romantic so you didn’t understand why Caesar would want to pair you two. Now it made a lot more sense.

Lu Mingfei took out a handkerchief and blindfolded Erii: "You will see a beautiful view when you untie the handkerchief later."

When he handed one to you, your jaw drops. “I can’t believe you.”

He doesn’t say anything, just ties your eyes. You feel his hand close around yours. You can’t see Erii’s expression. “Erii, I’m so excited. This is fantastic!”

You’re smiling, you can’t stop. The memories of the events of the days before roared like angry hordes of monsters in your mind, but Mingfei and Erii have shut the gates on them. His warm hand in yours, the rhythm of the sun's rays between the trees, the crunch of your footfalls on the trail, the constant sound of birds. It was all so soothing.

You walk the decades old mountain mining path, a road with uneven stone patchwork. At the end of the road is a long closed mine. In order to commemorate the mine that raised the town, the residents of Umezuji Town donated money to build a wooden temple-style building over the entrance and exit of the mine. Each rafter is hung with carp flags for prayers, and various porcelain dolls are placed under the eaves. This is a local custom. If the town's family gave birth to a boy, they would come here to hang a carp flag, and if it is a girl will put a porcelain doll.

“It's exactly the same as the Internet says." Lu Mingfei said.

The tracks of the mine car had long been rusted, and weeds grew among the sleepers. You followed the track to the edge of the cliff, and Lu Mingfei helped you to climb a rock that protruded from the cliff.

He pressed his hands on you and Erii’s shoulders and said, "Now you can take off the blindfold."

You untied your handkerchief.

The sunset blooms full in your vision. The huge sun disc had touched the sea. Ten of millions of tons of seawater slowly swirled beneath your feet. The tide broke into white splashes under the black cliffs. The wind blew endless hectares of forest. The evening woods also look like the sea from a distance, a pale red sea, with thousands of treetops swaying with the wind, forming cascading waves.

Small towns are distributed along the winding coastline, Lu Mingfei names of them one by one -- below the cliff is the town of Umezuji, a little farther away is the town of Yamamae, Tsukishita Castle Town and Matsuron Town, and further is beyond his knowledge.

The town's small school was already empty, and the silent playground was empty.

The Ferris wheel spins slowly but does not carry passengers. The Ferris wheel in Umezuji Town is only a miniature version, but it is magnified in the sunset, its huge shadow cast on the undulating sea of trees.

On the track facing the sea, the yellow slow train rumbled through the small unoccupied station, which was enclosed by white railings with the signs "Umetsuji X" and "Tokyo X”. You wonder how long it had to wait for a nostalgic and romantic fan like Lu Mingfei. Music starts playing and you can't help but laugh in disbelief.

Lu Mingfei had pressed play on the theme song of Tokyo Love Story. His phone was the latest and the speaker was good. You couldn't believe it. This nerdy little parrot boy and scared raccoon had somehow managed to comfort you completely. Outside the shadows of Caesar and Chu Zihang, he shined bright. Maybe being on a boat with him would be fun.

Erii held up her notebook. “The world is gentle.”

You look at her, expressionless. She was right. The world in its natural state was quiet and peaceful. You’d fallen asleep in violence and awakened in violence and pain. You didn't get to experience the romantic world like this very much. In your mind, you imagine Renata in her patchwork coat, sitting next to you. In your ears, she whispers.

You open your mouth, “Make a wish!”

Mingfei turns to you in surprise but Erii follows along, pressing her palms together. You pray.

Renata. I am coming soon. Sorry it took so long.

You sat under the roof of the mine. Erii kept writing questions. Lu Mingfei answered one by one. This girl seems to have saved up a belly of questions, and now they all came out. Mostly they referenced Anime and Manga you have never heard of. That was Erii’s world, a world of cartoon fantasy. He confirmed or denied that reality, shaping and creating the world anew as you watched her listen intently. Lu Mingfei had taken to heart your words and was upfront and simple, not lying or trying to say things she wanted to hear. You nod in approval, your eyes serious.

The sun gradually sank below the surface of the sea, the last afterglow scattered on the water. Half of the sun and its reflection form a complete circle.

"So this is what the outside world looks like." Erii wrote to Lu Mingfei to see.

"Yeah, that's what it's like, no Britannia Kingdom and no Celestial Organization… disappointed?" Lu Mingfei asked.

"No, not disappointed, like this kind of world, this kind of world is very gentle." Erii used the word gentle once again. You repeated the word in your mind. Gentle. It echoes there. As if without the constant threat of death and adrenaline, there was just empty space.

"I really like this world." As the sun is about to disappear, Erii wrote to Lu Mingfei. "But the world doesn't like me." Erii went on to write.

You stand up and move to the other side of her. You scoot as close as you can and rest your head on her shoulder. She hugged the huge bear and lowered her eyes like a cat that had done something wrong.

"I'll be a problem for everyone and I've been a problem for Sakura." Erii wrote again.

"I was too willful. So I ran away from home."

"I should have gone back a long time ago but it's still a pleasure."

"It's beautiful here, I should have known I should have come here on the first day. Thank you Sakura, MC, thank you.”

You lower your hand over hers as she’s writing.

"No."

Erii froze for a moment.

"No." Lu Mingfei repeated.

Lu Mingfei cocked his head to look at her with a rare serious look: "Don't think you can know what the world is like by coming out to see it. I'm still confused after living in this world for more than twenty years. You've only run out for a few days and you think you understand?"

His eyes look at you too and you’re just as shaken as Erii. But he is right! You never set foot outside the Port of Black Swan and that was 20 years ago. You saw the whole world through that tiny lens and haughtily walked around like you owned the place. You judged others through that same view as well.

"How big the world is depends on how many people you know, and for every person you know, the world gets a little bigger for you. There are many cities in this world. There are Tokyo, Paris, Cairo, London, Istanbul... but many of them are just names to you, you haven't been there and there are no people there you want to visit, so they don't really belong to your world. There are many, many more people in this world, but you don't know them, and they don't belong in your world. There are also lots of good food and fun and nice things in this world, but the world that really belongs to you is actually very small, just the places you've been and eaten and seen the sunset and the friends who will care if you live or die."

"Whether the world likes you or not only depends on whether your friends like you or not. Everyone has a few really good friends. They like you, therefore, the world likes you."

The world… was not Tokyo, or Cassell or Hydra… The world was Renata, Caesar, Chu Zihang, Lu Mingfei, and now Erii. You turn your head back to Tokyo, unseen in the distance. How could you leave…?

“What is a good friend?" Erii wrote in her little notebook.

"It's the kind of friend that's so crazy about that he'll believe in you no matter what, and he'll be with you no matter what.” Lu Mingfei growled low. "If the world really doesn't like you, then the world is my enemy."

The moment these cold and arrogant words came out of his mouth, you seemed to hear a familiar cold laugh coming from behind you. The demon of the sad world sneering with all its mockery.

Together, you and Mingfei both jerked back, but behind you were only cherry blossoms mixed with fallen leaves swirling in a breeze, and there was no sign of Z. Lu Mingfei stared at you with wide eyes and you stared right back. His mouth opened. “MC. You… heard…?”

"Wanted: a good friend."

He turned back to Erii waiting for him with a small book up.

"I am your good friend, and you will have more good friends in the future." You say.

"But as long as we are your good friends, how can we not like you?" He said softly.

She slowly crawled towards Lu Mingfei like a kitten, vigilantly figuring out his look. Lu Mingfei looks petrified and you cover your mouth with one hand while silently cheering, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

What did he expect? Even your heart was moving and you don’t even like him! Lu Mingfei is sitting here putting Kazama level moves on this girl and now that her arms are around him and her head is on his chest, he looks two seconds away from shitting himself. You ball your fist against your lips and swallow your laughter.

Clouds gathered in the distance and the sun had set, It was time to go. You would have to get up bright and early tomorrow to get on the boat to China. Your heart was relaxed again about Caesar’s decision. After all, he was just doing his best. If you died, you would go to rest. Caesar would be tormented for the rest of his days. He wasn't sending you on the boat to die. He wanted you to live. You still believed the omniscient Z. Leaving Tokyo was a death sentence. But you also believed Caesar had his own parallel script.

It was raining by the time the train came. You stand shoulder to shoulder on the platform. “Call me to wake me up tomorrow.” You say.

Mingfei lowers his head and laughs.

“Oh you’re planning to oversleep? Once again I have to be the mature one.” You roll your eyes.

The train splashes up to the platform and you make sure Erii has her ticket. She sits next to the window and stares outside. Much to your surprise, Mingfei sits you next to her. He gives you a fond smile and passes you a note.

"Dear passengers, this train terminates in Matsuyama City. We are now about to leave Umezuji-cho station. The train is about to close......" A sweet female voice echoed in the carriage.

The doors of the train close.

You open the note in your hand. The words make you squint.

You have to live.

You and Erii gasp at the same time. Mingfei is not on the train. The doors have closed. And he is not on the train!

You leap from your seat and pound on the glass door in front of the smiling Mingfei. “Where am I supposed to go?” You will miss the boat. You won’t go to China.

Your hands slowly slide from the glass. Erii is pressing her notebook urgently against it.

Lu Mingfei tapped on the window, "Someone will pick Erii up when you get to Matsuyama City. MC, find Ruri Kazama.”

"Won't Sakura take me back to Tokyo?" Eriki took the small book and showed it to Lu Mingfei.

"Your family won't like me." Lu Mingfei said.

Erii hugged the furry teddy bear and lowered her head, her long hair like a colored cloak that enveloped both her and the bear.

"Sayonara" said Lu Mingfei.

Erii nodded, finally realizing that this was their parting. The train ride to Tokyo will take several hours, but Lu Mingfei will not accompany her.

Lu Mingfei's face was stern and he didn't say anything more. There was nothing more to say. This was the parting, his carefully designed parting. He NEVER agreed to the boat. He NEVER agreed to kill you. He had carefully pulled the wool over Caesar’s eyes and convinced you that he was going to dump you on the boat. You grinned and shook your head. But the train began to move before you could even think of a comeback.

#Dragon Raja

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sleekervae · 3 years

Text

The Neighbour [0.3]

Something was irrevocably different with Remington; Emerson picked it off right away. On an early Tuesday afternoon, with the air thick and humid and the sun beating down like a plague (no pun intended), Remington was fussing over himself more than usual. He had changed out of four or five different outfits, playing with his hair, and was it appropriate for him to wear makeup? Eva hadn't seen him with it on, yet. No, it was probably best to keep it casual for now. Then again, he had a fantastic highlight that worked absolute magic under the sun...

It was around eleven thirty when Remington finally came down, dressed down but still presentable in a simple pair of ripped skinny jeans and a t-shirt. Emerson and Shy were sat on the couch as they watched Netflix, Pepper situated between them. Remington stopped short when he saw the pair cuddled up on the couch, he smiled deviously.

"Eugh! You guys are so flippin' cute it's gross!" he gushed, putting on his diva voice.

Shy chuckled softly, "Hi Rem,"

Emerson's attention diverted to his older brother, intrigued to see him all ready to go out somewhere.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Coffee with Eva," Remington replied simply.

"The neighbour with the cat?" Shy said.

"Yeah," Remington nodded, "Emerson tell you she gave us a loaf of bread last week?"

"He did," she smiled, "Poor thing, I felt for her. She looked so flustered at the pool,"

"Well, moving is a bitch already. Throw in Covid 19 and you got a real thorn in the ass," Emerson said, then turning back to his brother, "You gonna' be social distancing?"

"We're going to drink our coffee and walk around in the park," Remington replied, "She works from home anyway,"

"So, who asked who for the coffee?" Emerson asked.

Remington shrugged, stopping at the hallway mirror to fix his hair again, "She brought up how she hasn't had a chance to get around the neighbourhood, so I offered, she accepted. She has our vinyl too,"

"Which one?" Emerson asked.

"Boom Boom Room,"

"Side A or B?"

"A,"

"I'd approve either way,"

Shy couldn't help but subconsciouly squeeze Emerson's arm, a glimmer of excitement bursting behind her eyes, "So, she's a fan, too?"

"Took her a minute to figure it out. Didn't even bring up Em or Seb, so clearly she pays more attention to me," the blonde smirked.

Emerson glowered at his brother, "Yeah, yeah, go for your cup of fuck-off-ee," he grumbled.

Across the street, with her room strewn in discarded clothes that just didn't make the cut, Eva finally felt confident standing in her denim skirt and black tee. On any other day she'd have paired the ensemble with her pleather jacket, but it was too damn hot out. Even with the window letting in a cool breeze, the air was uncomfortably humid. What did she expect when moving from the Emerald City to Los Angeles?

Eva made sure to close and latch the window shut before she left, not eager for Pluto to go off on another reign of terror. Stopping to grab a fresh face mask, her phone suddenly began to vibrate in her purse. She figured it might have been Remington sending her a text, but the screen flashed to the Blocked Caller ID. Eva rolled her eyes and denied the call.

Stepping out into the humidity, Eva waved her hand over her face as she stepped out of the complex courtyard, just at the same time Remington was locking the door to his house. As soon as she caught his eye, he was all smiles.

She was glad to see him; a little relieved, even. He looked cool, cool enough to appear on some grungy magazine cover. All he needed to complete the look was a cigarette and maybe a skateboard, too. The messy blonde hair, the glimmer in his eyes brought back the warmth she associated with his presence and as she came to meet him at his car, his spicy cologne danced up her nose and imprinted itself in her olfactory memory.

Remington had never been more wary of how his hands shook, his left hand he stuffed into his jean pocket and the right he gripped his car keys with a vice-esque grip. He found himself mesmerized briefly by the fit of her skirt, her black t-shirt tucked in smoothly but not too tight to over expose her figure, but just enough to give Remington an idea. Her short brown hair fell delicately over her face, one side pushed back behind her ears and exposing her stormy blue eyes to the sunshine. She was the embodiment of innocence and grunge wrapped into a perfect five-foot-six package.

"Glad you didn't stand me up," he grinned.

"Well, I kind of happen to live right over there," she drawled, pointing to her balcony, "It'd be kind of awkward and hard to hide if I tried,"

"You look really nice," he nodded after a brief moment.

"So do you," she agreed with confidence, "Where we off to?"

There was a forested park not far from where they lived. Despite the pandemic, the fields were filled with older kids playing games of soccer and basketball, there were vendors out trying to sell their ice cream, a couple girls were scattered across the grass and sunbathing. It almost all seemed so normal, if not for the fact that the kid's jungle gym had been fenced off so no child could climb upon it.

The pair walked side-by-side, him with his iced black coffee and her with a green tea frapp -- no whipping cream. The gravel path they walked was shaded by a canopy of lush green trees, providing some relief from the hammering heat. Remington kept his gaze locked on her, worried to miss a moment where she'd crack a smile or briefly run her tongue over her lips. Her fingers appeared so dainty yet he could spot the small calluses at the middle joint of her thumb, and some paper cuts on her middle and index fingers.

"So, how does a ghostwriter get hired?" Remington asked, "Do you just openly advertise 'hey! If you're a lazy author, come hire me'?"

"No," Eva shook her head with a giggle, "I used to write articles for the newsletter at my college, and then a friend of mine forwarded me an email about a client who was looking for a ghostwriter. I didn't know much about it but the money was pretty good. It was a grant application for requesting financial aid for survivors of residential schools,"

"Sounds depressing," Remington said.

"It was pretty heavy shit," Eva admitted, "But, I did get fifteen-hundred for a six page application. Well worth it, I'd say,"

Remington blew an impressed whistle, "So you make pretty good money off of this?"

"Let's just say my student debt has decreased significantly since I took up the profession," and she took a brief sip of her drink.

"You ever publish anything under your own name?" he asked, "Eva Kuznetsov is a cute pen name. Evelina sounds more mature, though..."

Eva shrugged, "I think about it sometimes... but it's just easier to write under someone else's name and let them have all the glory. Say, if they happen to do something stupid to forever tarnish their career, that won't come back to bite me in the ass,"

Remington smirked, "Like a particular fantasy author who's made some pretty heavy comments concerning the trans community?"

"Let's not even talk about that, my heart still breaks when I think about it," Eva sighed, "To answer your question, however, if I got confident enough I may try to publish something in the future,"

"What else do you like to write?"

Eva opened her mouth but closed it quickly, pressing together her petunia pink lips as she visibly swallowed whatever words were about to pass through them. When she looked up at Remington again, his brown eyes dark like soaked coffee grinds that sent her into a caffeinated headrush. What would he think if she actually told him...

"I write poems, some short stories," she somewhat lied.

Remington's smile grew wider, mischief glimmering over his face like light beams reflecting over windchimes in a saturated dusk, "You hesitated just now," he spoke curiously, "What else do you write?"

Eva glanced down at the ground, a nervous giggle bubbling out and knocking the air out of her lungs, "Okay listen, don't judge me, it's just a hobby of mine,"

"Oh God!" Remington gasped, "Do you write porn?"

Eva laughed again, her pale cheeks flushing in red, "Well... I do happen write some naughty shit... in my fanfictions,"

Remington stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback by her answer. He totally thought she would say something along the lines of erotic fiction on a platform like Literotica. For understandable reasons, he had some mixed emotions about fanfictions.

"What kind of fanfiction?" he asked, somewhat bordering on the third degree.

"... Um..." she glanced at him again, the smirk on his lips compelling more giggles to burst from hers. She pressed her hands together over her nose and mouth, and Remington laughed as well.

"Okay listen, I promise," he put his right hand over his chest, "I promise I will not judge you for whatever smut you write for whoever," he assured her.

"It's not... yeah, I guess it kind of is," Eva chuckled nervously, "I usually write for stuff like Criminal Minds, but more lately I've gotten into writing for Euphoria..." she trailed off, timid as she waited for his response.

"Alright, that's actually not bad," he nodded, "I'll be honest, you didn't strike me as somebody who write fanfics,"

Eva glanced timidly at her scuffed sneakers, kicking up pebbles and dust, "Are fanfic writers supposed to look a certain way?"

"I don't know, actually," he simpered.

"I don't tell a lot of people that I do it, mainly because their first impression is either 'what the fuck' or 'OMG we should collaborate' and I'm just like," she hung her head back, "Nooo!"

"You're more of a soloist then a team player, then?" he teased.

"Let's just say I tend to work better alone," she replied, shrugging her shoulders as though the comment should mean nothing. But Remington found it odd that Eva was out here all on her own, never brought up her friends or family. He didn't see many personal effects in her apartment, neither.

"Is that why you're out here by yourself?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"Well... don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't really seen you with anybody. You don't talk about your friends or your family,"

Eva shrugged again, "They're all back in Seattle. Besides, opportunity was drying up over there and I just wanted a fresh start," she said, "Besides, Pluto's my friend,"

"Well, that's a given," he replied, "Are your parents up in Seattle?"

"My dad is," she nodded, "I don't know what my mom's doing," Remington's silent was her cue to go on, "I um... we haven't really spoken, her and I,"

"You have a falling out?" he asked suddenly.

Eva glared down at the gravel again, "You can call it that. She's a pilot and she's always flying, and so you know, I never really got to see much of her growing up. And then, she suddenly shows up for my college graduation and expects us to be one big happy family, like she has it in her head that she can make up for all the birthdays and shit she's missed. And I just didn't know what to say to her. I don't know who she is, but she's my mom," she glanced up at Remington again, "And I don't know why I'm telling you all of this,"

Remington wasn't bothered by her unloading, it seemed as though Eva needed to get things off her chest more than she realized. Her smile was sardonic and her voice petty like a comedian on stage, putting on the brave 'I don't give a fuck anymore' face.

"I find sometimes it's easier to unload to new people then it is to your friends," he said, "What does your dad do?"

"Chem professor. Which is ironic because I seriously sucked at chemistry," she replied.

"Show me a kid who didn't struggle in chem, honestly," he said, "But do you get along with your dad?"

"For the most part," she chuckled, "He's still confused as to why I choose to write anonymously, but that's his problem. What do your parents do?"

Remington chewed on the inside of his cheek, "My mom's kind of like our manager. Does a lot of production and behind the scenes stuff. And I haven't seen my dad for nearly twenty years,"

Eva was silent for a moment, studying him. He spoke with a firm grin, yet still trying to shadow that flicker of sadness within his face.

"So we both have parental issues... that's nice to know," she put on a teasing grin, "Maybe that's why we make such good friends?"

Remington swallowed thickly, "So, you are indeed confirming we are friends?"

"I am," she smiled, "It'd be nice to have whatever few I can scrape up,"

"That fact that you also live across the street means that you're now stuck with me," Remington grinned with pride.

"True," Eva hummed appreciatively, taking another sip of her drink, "Somehow, I don't think I'll mind, though,"

When Remington drove her home she gave him a sweet and polite goodbye, a hug which made his confident exterior falter for a second long enough for her to witness it through the flush in his cheeks and his lack of response. His words tripped over the length of his tongue when he tried to flush out a proper goodbye and he felt his hands began to quiver again.

And when he went to open his door, he took one last glance. The small brunette turned at the same time and met his gaze, but he was too far away to hear her sharp inhale. And when he finally went inside he fall back against the door, staring into space with the biggest grin he'd had on since... well, he couldn't remember when he last felt so excited.

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #sebastian danzig #emerson barrett #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine

Erik and Reader are best friends and Reader is the best freaky love for Erik but he doesn’t know how freaky she is. He finds out when he sees her at a heels class dancing to Beyoncé- Rocket.

“Deep down, everyone doubts themselves. Sometimes, I think I’m not good enough but at the end of the day I know I’m the fucking shit. I pray you quit overthinking, replaying failed scenarios, feeding self doubt & seeing the good in everyone but yourself you deserve more, ma.”

He passes Y/N the blunt, licking his full lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, and showing off his gold canines. Taking a puff of weed, Y/N watches Erik scratch the side of his defined torso over a tattoo that says Fuck Reality in that cursive lettering she loved to see. He yawns, blinking his sleepy eyes a few times before looking over at Y/N. She couldn’t help but look at his face.

“Make yourself a priority, Y/N. For real. Stop settling for these toxic lame ass niggas. When you meet a real nigga you gon’ realize you was never asking for too much.”

Y/N passed the blunt back to Erik while staring out of his bedroom window from his king sized bed. She knew her worth, she really did, but she always ended up going back to the same fuck boys.

“You’re too fine to be giving all your time and energy into him. Too fine. My bestfriend needs to know her worth. You looking at me like that but I’m being honest, shit, when was the last time you felt appreciated? When was the last time a nigga did something for you and didn’t expect something in return? Called to check up on you? Texted you back? Ate your pussy because he knows you had a rough week and you just need your pussy ate? Some good sex? When?”

Her carefree bestfriend with his tapered dreads and full beard and mustache. His sincere whiskey colored eyes and messy brows that he always talked with. Raising them, creasing them. He smooths a hand down his solid and sculpted chest before resting that hand over his abs. The gold rings on his fingers against his brown skin was just as beautiful as the sun setting before them.

“I can’t remember. I’m embarrassed to say,” Y/N finally speaks. She heaved a sigh, unzipping her velour pink hoodie, a white form-fitting shirt underneath, “I know I deserve more. Ugh, now I’m going to be single and lonely for Valentine’s.”

Erik sat up on his elbows, the hue of the sunset against his russet skin, “I’m your valentine now. i’ll be there at 10pm climbing through your bedroom window with flowers. Dahlias right? Cool, I’ll see you later tonight?” Erik gave Y/N a teasing smile. She knew he was trying to make her feel better but it didn’t change the fact that it sounded so...honest? Like he wanted to do and say that.

“Scary movies and chill? That romantic movie shit is played out. We can snuggle close with some popcorn with Freddy Kruger on the screen.”

“Your obsession with 80s slasher movies is amazing,” Y/N laughs, “Why must you mix Valentine’s with blood and gore, Erik?”

“Why not? Instead of bleeding your heart out because you’re heart broken, you can watch a heart actually bleeding out,” Erik chuckles before he ashes out the blunt in his ceramic ashtray that Y/N made for him with 4/20 carved into it.

“Should I dress up?” Y/N played along.

“Just keep those same straight backs in your hair and wear those little stripe linen shorts that make your ass look nice. Oh, and that mini white T-shirt that says Daddy on it in pink letters. Can’t forget the mix match ankle socks either.”

“You can wear a durag with a pair of grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt. The ones you wear that’s all loose fitting on you because you refuse to wear a tighter one? Yeah, and a pair of Vans.”

“What time for our little date, ma?”

“8. And don’t be late either.”

“To a date with you? Never.”

“Okay, I have a question,” Y/N turns towards him, “what’s your idea of a perfect night with your girl?”

“Hmm,” Erik rolled his moistened lips in deep thought, “Dick rubs and intellectual conversations. Head in a comfortable bed. Falling asleep with my head laying on her crotch so I can just pull her panties to the side and eat her pussy. Honestly, give pleasure by just being there. We don’t even have to talk or fuck. Presence is just comforting.”

“That sounds amazing,” Y/N never had those things but that’s what her bestfriend likes? She wished she had that same treatment.

“Those chill, nice nights with someone you feel comfortable with.” Erik spoke in a low tone while twirling a single loc, “I crave that.”

“I know, ugh, me too, Erik,” Y/N laid back against the bed, “I have to go to class today.”

Erik gave her a questioning look, “What class?”

Y/N turned around to lay on her belly, “A heels class. Remember I was telling you that I started doing this like a month ago?”

“Shorty, I have other things going on with me right now I didn’t focus on that,” Erik gives her a sad look, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been working on a routine. I think I have it down. It’s gonna be real sexy.”

“Sexy? Who you tryna impress with this class?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N teased.

“Ah, man. That ain’t fair, ma. I’m your bestie.”

“You are but I don’t need to tell you my business,” Y/N rolls her eyes into her head.

“It’s cool, cuz I’m coming there with you.”

Y/N’s face flushed.

“What? I can’t come-“

“NO.”

She didn’t want Erik to watch her dance. Being surrounded by those women made her feel like she was in her room dancing in the mirror. They all connected because they related to each other. If Erik came there she would probably mess up her routine since he would definitely be watching her move. It was a heels choreography class and Erik is a man, he’s going to watch. Y/N wore either a pair of black high crotch panties with fishnets and a cropped t shirt or a form fitting leotard with black sheer stockings. Six inch heels on her feet with a skinny heel since she’s gotten better. Popping her ass and hitting splits to the music. Erik never saw her like that. What would he say and do when he did?

“It really ain’t that deep, ma,” Erik jokes because Y/N was spaced out, “I promise I won’t laugh at you. I don’t have shit else to do but sit around so let me come with you.”

Y/N pondered while staring down at her hands before heaving a sigh of defeat, “okay. You can come.”

“I knew you would say yes,” Erik gave her a half smirk, “You can’t tell me no even if you tried.”

“Don’t embarrass me in there, Erik,” Y/N spoke to him with a warning in her voice. She knew he could be silly and fuck with her but when she danced, it was her time to shine.

“Teh, girl, you really think I would do that?”

Erik got closer to Y/N, leaning on his elbows while his face got closer to hers, “I’ll be on the side lines cheering you on. I promise, okay?”

Y/N looked up into his eyes, giving Erik a weird look before turning away from him, “Okay.”

He was acting very...strange. Not like his usual self but Y/N could be overthinking it. She sat up on her knees, lifting off the bed to put her sneakers back on before picking up her velour jacket and her PINK gym bag that carried all of the things she needed for class.

“Put on a shirt and come on, Erik.” She picked up a shirt that was wrinkled and balled up on the floor before throwing it at him, “I’m not trying to be late!”

“Calm that shit the fuck down, Y/N. Don’t give me attitude before I really make you late for this class.”

—————————-

“You calm down yet?” Erik asks Y/N while following behind her to the dance studio that held her heels class. The closer they walked, the more Erik could hear the deep base to the sensual music that vibrates the walls. He’d sit back and watch a bunch of women shake their ass in heels. Erik looked at his bestfriend walking ahead of him as she lead the way with a sway of her hips. Those tantalizing hips. Erik looked up at the back of her head as if she had eyes back their and could see him checking her out. He couldn’t help himself. Like he said back in his room, she’s too fine.

“Are you going to behave?” She looked back at him over her shoulder with a brow raised, “Well? Are you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Erik said with a husky voice, “whatever you say.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before making a left turn, opening the double doors to a dimly lit studio with a pink neon sign of a woman in heels that read dance. A few chairs rested in the corner of the room, mirrors were placed on one side of the wall so that the ladies could watch themselves. A guy stood off to the side in deep conversation with a short plump girl about 5’ 3 dressed in a mesh leotard with red fishnets and heels. He was fumbling with a camcorder that Erik assumes is used to record the ladies do their routines. On the polished hardwood floor, directly in the middle, were all the ladies doing stretches. Some were down in a split stretching out their legs, others were bending over to touch their toes, stretching out their backs. Erik recognized the music. It sounded like Teyana Taylor & Kehlani- Morning.

“Okay, I gotta get myself changed, I’ll be back, alright?” Y/N spoke with a whisper to him.

“Yeah, I’ll be over here,” Erik pointed to a black chair with a leather cushion to sit on.

“Cool,” Y/N gave Erik a silly smile before walking away, waving to a few ladies as she made her way over to the dressing room. Erik rested his hands in the pockets of his black cargo pants that he wore. The wrinkled shirt wasn’t the shirt he had on. He was wearing a muscle tee with the sides cut really low, giving you a view of his muscles and scars along his ribs down to his hips. Black boots on his feet and gold around his neck and on his fingers. Erik scratches his scruffy facial hair while looking around the class. When he did this, eyes were on him, wondering who this handsome guy was that came with Y/N. He entertained their looks for a minute before taking his phone out of his pocket to scroll through pointless apps.

“Oooo, Y/N, what routine are we gonna start out with today, honey?” A tall mocha skinned girl with a large curly bush and a black catsuit on asked. Erik looked up at the mention of her name. His eyes seemed to widen and gawk at Y/N. Erik was in a state of stupor. Stupefied but mesmerized at the same time.

“I have something I’ve been working on all week but that can wait for tomorrow. I gotta have a guy to do the lap dance with. When is Montell coming back?”

“Girl, why use Montell when you can use him?” The tall chick pointed at Erik. Erik looks over at Y/N, watching her eyes grow wide.

“Erik? No,” Y/N laughs, “He’s just here to watch until I’m done.”

The chubby chick that was talking to the camera guy came over to intrude, “Isn’t that your boyfriend though?”

“No. He’s my bestfriend and he’s just going to watch.”

“Well, can I use him for my routine then? I put a little something something together to Ciara- Body Party and I need a nigga to pop this ass on. He so cute, Y/N. Hi bestfriend!” The pretty chubby girl waved at Erik who returned the wave with a smile on his full lips.

“He is cute. How can you just be friends with that?”

“Dominique,” Y/N was referring to the taller chick, “Erica,” She looked over at the short plump girl, “I’m using him for my routine.” Y/N spoke with finality. Wasn’t no chick in that class gonna put ass on him if it wasn’t her.

“Oh? Why the change of heart?” Dominique folded her arms while giving Y/N a sassy smile. Y/N didn’t say a word as she walked away, looking over at Erik before sticking her tongue out at him. He was in a fit of laughter, clutching his chest and everything.

Y/N was dressed in a black thong with sheer black stockings that had tiny rhinestones on it, a tiny black and gold wrap top that made her breast sit high and black stilettos on her feet. All that ass out and bouncing each time she walked. Erik knew his bestfriend has body but damn, he never saw her like this. Y/N was fumbling with a wall audio system that was installed to play throughout the studio. She found the song she wanted, pausing it, then grabbing a chair to bring in the center of the dance floor. The other ladies crowded around and the camera guy set up so that it was facing her. Y/N then walked over to Erik, a roll of her eyes while trying to fight a smile. She got down in front of him in a squat, talking closely with him. Erik leaned forward on his elbows to hear her.

“Okay, so I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that but,” She sighed, “I’m gonna need you for my routine.”

“Hmm,” Erik smirked, “What I gotta do?”

Y/N licked her lips, “All you gotta do is sit in that chair for me. You’ll be in that chair while I do all the work, alright?”

“Let me ask you something,” Erik narrowed his eyes, “Why did you change your mind so quick?”

Y/N rolled her eyes away from him before kissing her teeth, “You gonna do that for me, or what?”

“You ain’t off the hook, ma,” Erik stood up, while looking down at Y/N who was still in a squat position while staring up the valley of his body to connect with his eyes, “You gon’ tell me after this class.”

“Whatever,” Y/N finally got up, grabbing Erik’s hand with force, walking him to the middle of the dance floor. He wasn’t nervous one bit. He wanted to see what his bestie could do.

“Sit.” She instructed, earning oooo’s and ahhhh’s from the ladies around them. Erik raises his brows at her before taking his seat real slow, legs wide and one arm stretched over the back of the chair. He motioned with his head for Y/N to get started, his eyes intense and heated. Y/N motioned for one of the girls she started the class with to play her song.

Beyoncé- Rocket began to play.

Let me sit this ass

On you

Y/N sat down real slow on Erik while looking back at him. She wound her hips, back arching and ass moving up the length of his crotch nice and gently. She did a spin on his lap, her leg going up and over his head so she could straddle him. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders before pulling on his shirt to bring him closer to her. She made him watch her while her hips moved over him. Erik has to hold onto the sides of the chair.

Show you how I feel

Let me take this off

Will you watch me

Yes, mass appeal

Don't take your eyes

Don't take your eyes off it

Watch it, babe

If you like

You can touch me baby

Do you

Do you wanna touch me baby, ooh

Grab a hold, don't let go

Let me know

That you

Ready (ready)

Erik looked at her with eyes so deeply filled with desire there was no denying his attraction to his bestfriend. Y/N held those eyes with her low ones, before grabbing his jaw to tease him. She almost touched his lips with hers but she pulled away before Erik could even get a taste.

I just wanna show you now

Slow it down

Go around

You rock hard

Y/N stood up, getting down on her knees in front of Erik while running a hand from his chest down to his crotch that was indeed rock hard.

I rock steady

She bounced up and down in a squat to demonstrate how steady she would rock on that hard dick. A few chicks wolf whistled at that, cheering her on.

And rock right up to the side of my mountain

Climb until you reach my peak baby, peak babe, peak

And reach right into the bottom of my fountain

Y/N pats her kitty kat to indicate where that fountain he needed to find was.

I wanna play in your deep baby, your deep baby, deep

Then dip me under where you can feel my river flowing and flow

Y/N went back on the floor, her legs coming all the way up to rest on each side of her head. She was open like the peace sign. Her hands ran up her body, eyes still on Erik to show him that she was nothing to play with. He gave her a sly smirk that showed off a single dimple. So this how she got down? She danced all freaky like this? Showing him where she wanted him to go with his hardness?

Hold me 'til I scream for air to breathe

She grabs her neck, body arching from the floor. Erik could feel his dick growing stiffer.

And wash me over until my well runs dry

Send all your sins all over me, babe, me baby, me

Rock it…

Y/N got up from the floor, swaying her hips. She stared into the camera, moving in those heels like she was wearing a pair of sneakers. Erik didn’t know she was this flexible. When she arched her back to pop her ass, getting into a split stance while running her hand on her crotch he wanted to lift from that chair, pick her up, and hold the back of her neck while making her pop her ass on his hard crotch. He had to have restraint because this is her routine but FUCKKK, was it hard.

Rock it 'til waterfalls

Bathe in these waterfalls

She grinned her hips into the floor before bringing her legs up from behind, her heels almost touching the back of her head before rolling over to lift a single leg in the air, grinding her hips forward. She was showing him what that body could do. She was showing him exactly how freaky his bestfriend could be.

I do it like it's my profession

I gotta make a confession

I'm proud of all this bass

When you put it in your face

She stood, arching forward, and grabbing her ankles while looking back at Erik. Her ass popped and swayed from side to side.

By the way, if you need a personal trainer or a therapist

I can be a piece of sunshine, inner peace, entertainer

Anything else that you may read between the lines

You and I create rockets and waterfalls

“YES HUNTY!” One of them yelled out while snapping their fingers.

“THATS IT Y/N!”

Erik nods his head in approval. He found himself rocking to the beat while tapping a single foot and grinding his hips in the chair. She rode that song with so much ease. Beyoncé’s voice mixed with her sensual moves had everyone in that room watching in complete silence now. The song played on and then that’s when it became really intense...

I can't help but love the way we make love

Daddy, daddy

Ooh child, ooh now

Yes, Lord, damn baby

She was going crazy. Popping her ass, arching her back, looking at Erik with her mouth hanging open. Swinging her head from side to side, running her hands over her breasts before jiggling them. That continuous Daddy, Daddy, has Erik losing his mind. The self control was unraveling.

You driving me cray, cray, yeah

You ain't right for doing it to me like that daddy

Y/N crawled towards him. She was staring at him like she wanted to rip his clothes off and show some attention to the hard dick that she felt growing in his pants. When she made it over to him, she got into a handstand, her legs widening into a split, before descending back on him, her legs wrapping around his waist while Erik pulled her forward with his hands on her hips.

Even though

I've been a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad girl

Y/N bends her body back while grinding on him so hard and forceful that Erik couldn’t help but to grind up into her on that chair. His hips were lifting from the chair.

Tell me what you're gonna do about that

He wanted to do something right fucking now. Y/N was driving him crazy. His growls and moans were trapped in his throat because of everyone surrounding him.

Punish me please

Daddy what you're going to do with all of this

Ass

Y/N turns around, her ass rubbing along his chest. Erik moves his hands down her back before slapping her ass, causing Y/N to gasp and everyone around them to cheer and clap.

All up in your face, yeah

Hell yeah

Love me so deep

Ooh my shit's so good it ain't even right

This shit wasn’t fair. She bounced on his lap in a continuous rhythm to the freaky beat. Since she wanted to give him a little lap dance to this beat she was definitely going to fuck him to this song. Bestie or not.

I know I'm right

Hell yeah you the shit

That's why you're my equivalent

So sexy

To Erik’s disappointment, Y/N got up from his lap, circling him in the chair before standing behind him. She lowered her arms over his shoulders from behind, taking her fingers to drag his muscle tee up to reveal his chiseled body. Abs flexed, skin so smooth even with the raised scars, her nails clawing lightly at his ripped abs all the way up to his chest. Her lips lightly touched the side of neck, giving him a lick there while the song faded out. The room erupted with applause at her routine. Y/N wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck, rocking him back and forth with a big smile on her face. Erik grabs her arms, holding them with a grin on his lips. Y/N did her thing.

“Girllllllllllll,” Dominique shouted while coming over to hug Y/N, “You had your bestfriend ready to hop off this chair and handle you, girl.”

“Oh? Really?” Y/N spoke into Erik’s ear before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “I’m sorry I put this ass on you and you couldn’t do anything about it.”

Erik clenched his jaw. She only fueled him more.

“Nothing to say? Hmm?” She dragged on.

Erik looked up at her with a tilt of his head. She knew those hard domineering eyes meant one thing and one thing only: she was going to get it for sure. He had something for her after this class.

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #erik killmonger

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