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twstedtales · 3 years

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𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑, 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋.

❝hold your ground; stand up for yourself with grit and grace.❞ - Unknown.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | when he heard you broke from your timid and soft-spoken self just so you could defend him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al asim, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia × female reader.

𝐭𝐰 | none!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | of course, <3 anon chan 😘 nice to meet you and have a good day too 😆 by the way, freaking gosh, this becomes soooo long 2,241 words if you wanna know bdjejwjeeh 😭😂💦 HELP-

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | reposting and queued this in time for my classes because i am determined to put it in tags lfmaooo and I also added few more because I noticed some of Leona’s part was missing and typographical errors are fixed shsbjd

Riddle was always grateful that you were a lot tamer than your chaotic friends that give him constant headaches. He also appreciates your quiet and soft nature because it helps him calm down a lot during his near outbursts when he was about to behead some of his rebellious dorm mates.

So, one random day, Riddle overheard you talking to some students; he presumed they were your classmates? He trusts you a lot, and was about to leave because he didn't want to disrespect your conversation when he heard his name, including the loud series of continuous insults directed to him, repeatedly calling him a ruthless tyrant and such, that had made his elegant brows raise to his hairline.

A lady such as yourself shouldn't be hearing such crass words from those uneducated fools. His eyes twitched in seething anger, a vein bulging in his forehead and he was about to step in to teach them a lesson they won't forget when Riddle had heard your voice snapping.

It took him by surprise when he heard your usual soft and timid tone raise an octave, your loud yells reverberated greatly across the empty halls. Riddle felt some sort of pleasant shock; he couldn't imagine you, who was usually soft-spoken, to defend him like that. Though that aside, immediate pride and affection swells inside him.

Riddle always believes that as a gentleman, he should be the one to protect you from fools, or defend you against malicious people like that. But he supposed the position getting reversed once in a while feels...good as well. Now, if you'll excuse him, he still needs to, ah, re-educate those imbeciles, a lesson they won't ever forget.

Leona doesn't care that you're timid most of the time, in fact, it even brought a slight relief to him because firstly, he won't have you loudly reprimanding and nagging him if he doesn't attend classes like Ruggie does, disturbing his naps. And secondly, he secretly finds you a great wonder, knowing that most women in Afterglow Savana were all "warriors" and they intimidate him.

Though for your own sake, Leona would drop casual hints about arming yourself in an argument here and there for you to catch. He favoured your soft-spoken persona, yes, but that doesn’t mean he would go around letting you be in danger just because of it.

And just when he thought that you were tamed and a well-behaved little lamb, Leona was slightly bewildered to hear your loud shouts that knocked him out of his sleep. He almost thought that you were in danger and would instantly leap in to tear off the person who dared to attack you limb by limb if not for the obvious anger lacing your voice.

Hou? Leona listens curiously in patient silence as you apparently "defend" his reputation. It would be a lie to say that he didn't care what others say about him, but at this point, he had completely given up on how others perceived him, all their opinions be damned. But he had to admit, you saying that he was more than just being an "indolent bastard" makes his heart do a quick lithe leap. Just a little bit.

However, of course, he can't let you hog in all the fun to yourself. If those fools were brave enough to lash out and dish out their problems about him to you, they must be prepared to face the consequences of his payback. Though perhaps he must thank them as well? For encouraging and pushing his timid herbivore to stand up and hold her ground to what she believes to be most important? Heh.

Azul thought that your soft and timid self is quite a refreshing sight; you're like a breath of fresh air for him. Being surrounded by the chaotic twins all the time drains his energy, no matter how efficient they seem to be for business. So, having you around calms him down, and your soft voice was like enticing him to sleep and relax.

That's why when he heard a loud scream outside of the VIP room, Azul had seriously doubted his ears, blinking his eyes in mild shock and refusing to believe that person who had just raised their voice was you. You, his precious angelfish who spoke so softly and tenderly to him all the time, just shouted?

Azul snapped out of his trance when he had heard your voice again, this time, it was even louder, and he could clearly hear just what makes you this furious. He quietly left the sanctuary of his office just as the argument kept on getting clearer. He had heard his name, how the students called him a "scammer", "manipulator", "evil schemer", "stupid octopus" and such.

Under normal circumstances, Azul wouldn't feel any remorse when he had tricked them into a contract for servitude as a small payment for what they boastfully spout about him. He was ready to make them pay a hundred folds...if not for you defending him wholeheartedly. You were readily refuting every falseーor were they really false?ーclaims about him; a bit more menacing, a little more proud, and very much seething in anger.

Adoration bloomed inside him as he almost felt tears start to prickle in the corner of his eyes. He never had someone who would defend him, who would boast how "hardworking" he was, or be angry...just for him. Azul had to steel his knees from buckling over, blinking back his tears and parading his usual, haughty smile. As much as he wants to rejoice and melt for your brave words, he first needs to get you out of there. He can't have his precious angelfish deal with those pests all by yourself, no?

Kalim was understanding, empathetic enough to know not to push you beyond the limits you could give. He was content to see you interacting and hanging out with him, no matter how quiet and timid you may be! Fret not, it doesn't matter one bit if he's the only one speaking and getting the conversation going, as long as he knew you were there and listening to him, that's all that matters to him.

Though seriously speaking, does anyone even have the heart to say malicious things about this sunshine? Though let's admit it, not all people would see Kalim's open generosity in a positive light and some people would even find it rather irritating (ーlike Jamilー). So, things like "bad-mouthing" him does happen, maybe not as much in NRC but he does hear them back in Scalding Sands.

Due to his position of being the heir to a big clan, Kalim was very much exposed to the harsh criticism and perhaps hatred and envy of others, though he does his very best to ignore them, and understand where they are coming from because he knows that not all are as privileged as him. So hearing people say bad things about him in the NRC is nothing new as well.

What was something new though...is you raising your voice that made him jump, his heart almost made a quick leap out of his throat. Especially when you declared that he was the kindest, the most understanding and the best person you ever met in your life. Kalim didn't even hear the insults because he was more focused on drilling the image of you, looking so gallant like a honourable warrior defending him.

Before it escalates into something serious though, Kalim would jump in the conversation and sway the topic into a more light-hearted one. You would notice his smile looked a lot brighter than normal, and that his cheerfulness is so contagious that you forgot the person who badmouthed him as Kalim dragged you to somewhere he could spoil you rotten.

Vil doesn't usually mind your timid self; he finds himself surprisingly adoring it at times. Especially after those stressful and chaotic days that all he needs is to have a peaceful respite that he had found in you. Though there were times that he would...ah, help you to become more open and confident when talking to people. Unlike Leona who would just drop hints, Vil was determined to teach you how to arm yourself with words, if not magic or any other weapon.

Hence why Vil was very much accustomed to harsh criticism and dare say, downright hate. He was an actor and a model after all. He had long prepared himself to accept those healthy criticisms, and block off all the malicious comments thrown at him. So, hearing his own schoolmates lash out their hate against him is nothing to waste his time about. After all, they weren't even brave enough to say that to his own face.

Even so, what took him in a pleasant astonishment is when he heard your voice, loud and clear and confident, rebutting their foolish claims about him. He didn't even pay enough attention when those potatoes blatantly compared him to Neigeーwhich was, by the way, will be dealt with laterーbecause all he could hear was your voice.

Vil huffed in amusement; you had incorporated everything he had taught you today and he could say that he was pleased with your development. As much as he wanted to see how far you could go and how good it was that you were defending him, Vil cannot allow you to linger longer around those fools who don't know basic etiquette more than necessary.

Brimming with confidence as he was, Vil swept between smoothly, the long and loose sleeves of his dorm uniform flaunting behind me like a perfect picturesque as he hide you behind his back. He looked down coldly at those potatoes, ignoring your surprise yelp. Now, Vil can't let the improper things they say pass without a proper punishment, no?

Like everyone does, Idia doesn't care if you're timid or soft spoken either. To be honest, it was even encouraged by him. He could get around everything between you two without speaking, especially since he wasn't used to being around people a lot. After all, your quiet voice when you're talking to him doesn't feel like any otherーit was more relaxing, more soothing…

That's why when he heard you shouting so loudly and angrily one day, Idia fell on his chair in shock. He was surveying the surroundings from the CCTVs around the school for possible routes he could take when he went out to buy snacks for the weekend when he caught sight of you in the hallway with some unfamiliar students. It doesn't look like a one-sided argument, but you were definitely more pissed off than the others.

The longer he listens, the more Idia wants to wither awayーfrom embarrassment, or from self-resentment or from pure adoration, he cannot pinpoint exactly what! You...you were defending him! Him! You were seethingly refuting every claim he heard directed to him. Every single negative thing they pointed out that he himself knew of all people possessed, said it was nothing but baseless untruths.

How could you say that he was not useless when all he could do now was to watch you from afar as you fight for his reputation? How could you still believe he was not a coward after all those things that people said about him and his failures? How could you still love him after all the things you were hearing right now?

Idia clenched his fists that his nails dug in his palms. He...wants to be like you as well. He wanted to be the man you could depend on, the one who could defend you like those in his otome games he played. If one day...if only he could build up the courage to be...anyway, for now, Idia mysteriously alerted some of the professors that someone was bullying you. He couldn't be there personally, with how he is right now, but he would make sure to protect you in the way that he himself could surely do this time...

The one who insults and badmouth The Malleus Draconia himself was probably tired of living, having a death wish or something. Almost everyone was scared of facing him, but alas, there surely exists those who are...brave enoughーor was it simply foolishness?ーto insult him in the presence of his own beloved.

Malleus probably didn't hear your "heroic acts" personally, but due to Sebek's garrulous mouthーand he can't simply keep this a secret to his Waka-sama!ーhe was informed how you defend him in front of many people.

He would ask every detail, how it started and how it escalated to how it ended. Sebek wouldn't leave a single detail, though he supposed he could make you a little more "gallant and chivalrous" to his Young Master because you were the first one to stand up for him, and you are his lover, not his guard!

After hearing the full details from the extremely proud Sebekーand how he had already taught the impudent students a lesson for insulting himーMalleus had found himself teleporting next to you, that made you jump because it was so sudden. And he would hug you so suddenly and wordlessly. When you ask him why, he would just reply that he feels like you had done something so incredible for him that he wants to repay and spoil you in any way you desire.

Malleus does mind the insults, but he was more focused on you and how you stand up and hold your ground despite your soft-spoken self. He wished he could've seen you break out from your shell once again, but he won't force you to it. After all, there's plenty of time to rectify that and he would wait patiently on the day you showed all your sides to him.

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totebagchiqbarista · 3 years

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can we have a chat noir x reader x ladybug where chat and lady are constantly trying to out due in battles each other for the reader’s attention, even in school with adrian and marionette

a loving feeling

Pairing: Adrien/Chat Noir, Marinette/Ladybug x GenderNeutral!Reader

Here's the first request I got! I literally love this idea so much oh my god. I hope you like it :)

“Adrien, dude, go talk to them. Now’s your chance!“ said Nino, reassuringly patting his best friend on the back. Adrien’s palms sweat just because of the thought of talking to them. It had been so long since he felt anything other than platonic love for somebody and was losing his mind. Adrien knew he wasn’t the only one who saw Y/N as potentially someone who was to be more than a friend. How could he be?

“Go! Now!“ Nino pushed him closer to the infatuating dream of his best friend. Disappearing in a split second he rebounded with his girlfriend.

Adrien made a few steps. It has seemed the person of his dreams was way too far away from him. Fear grew with each step and his heart was now beating in his throat, unable to catch a breath. Yes! They are so close! He can see them, just a bit more. He is already there, just hanging by the tip of a finger... And suddenly he was in a broom closet.

“Oh, Plagg I chickened out again“ Adrien cried, clenching his fists against the wall. The kwami flew around his head in an attempt to catch his gaze.

“Honestly Adrien, you could only talk to them when you were Cat Noir. But when you’re...well you, you lose your mind!“ he spoke “You see, cheese doesn’t do that to a person“

“You’re a kwami“

“My point still stands.“

Adrien banged his hair against the wall. It’s true, he could always talk to them when he was dressed in black. “I'm going to talk to them, today!”

“You go to the same class, you talk to them every day “ Plagg rolled his eyes, getting tired of the same old story his owner has been playing over and over

The blonde boy shook his head trying to talk to Plagg on a serious note “You know what I mean”

Upon entering the class, Marinette stumbled over her thoughts. She had decided she will talk to them today. She had no idea how, but she had put her mind to it. She is doing this.

"Hi, Marinette," said Y/N when they saw the bluenette deep in her thought.

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching in her throat. She had to process what is happening before she could open her mouth.

"O-oh, hi, Y/N. Are you how? I mean, how you are?" she felt embarrassed by the inability to speak as she tried to collect herself "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Do you want to sit next to me today? Nino and Alya sat together." they questioned, pointing to the couple in love, sat in the second row.

Marinette's face lit up in joy as she shook her head in approval "Yeah, I will". The two sat down in the first row, waiting for the class to start.

"So, Y/N, tell me, um do you- want to-" Blue-haired girl started as the duo collected their bags and headed towards the door. Y/N watched the girl carefully until she was interrupted by a loud cheer behind them.

They turned around, meeting eyes with a pair of green ones that lit under the blonde hair. "Hi, Adrien!" they waved in response.

Marinette's face reddened. It wasn't just because of the Adrien himself who too, made her blush a little. But it was because he could not have found the worse time to come by...

Her fingers twitched as she watched him smile sweetly and sly to the person she was just about to ask out. He had a kind, heart-warming smile on his face, and he was talking so softly to them. His fingers twirled in his blonde hair as he...

Marinette's face widened at the realization. The guy was stealing her date!

"Actually, we were talking you can come back by later" she interrupted blushing Adrien, taking Y/N's hand in hers and walking off. Without thinking, Adrien reached out, grabbing Y/N's hand. His fingers wrapped around their wrist. "Why can't I join you?" he blurted.

"Of course you can!" Y/N exclaimed

"No, you can't. Don't you have a fencing class to attend to?" Marinette fought back, crossing her hands on her chest.

"It got postponed"

"It never does"

"But today it has so I have an hour of free time"

Y/N watched as the two held a strong eye contact filled with rage and jealousy. Their bodies came closer and closer as they fought back and forth for their attention.

Suddenly, the door of the school burst open, shrieks fulfilling the building. A woman dressed in black entered, her ripped dress falling to the floor. Silver hair of hers flowed in the wind as she wrapped her fingers tighter around the machine in her hand. Two rat ears grew on the tip of her head and a tail that followed the theme.

She walked around, shooting every random passenger and turning them into...rats?

"We have to hide!" Y/N exclaimed as they took both of their hands, leading them into a classroom.

Marinette stuttered, ripping their hands apart even though that was the last thing she wanted to do. "I forgot my bag in the other classroom, I have to get that, it's important, you guys go hide now!"

Y/N nodded, running again, leaving Adrien to follow along. "Locker rooms! We can hide there" he said, grabbing them by the hand and running to the secure place in school.

"Chloe! Where are you Chloe!" the rat lady yelled, leading her way through the corridors of the Françoise Dupont High School. "Hide here," he said, showing them a safe place in one of the lockers.

"You too." They said pointing to the one across. Adrien only nodded in response and faking it once they were completely safe. The blonde's legs carried him to the bathroom by the speed of light.

Closing the door he took a moment to take a deep breath and rest his back against the wall. His kwami reappeared in front of his face, waiting for a word. Something. Anything.

"Don't you have a significant other to save, Adrien?"

Adrien got himself on his feet, away from the daydreams. Plagg was right, he did everything better when he was Chat Noir, so saving them should be as easy too. Maybe then he can finally talk to them without interruptions or his own fears.

The blonde nodded. "Plagg claws out!"

Although they knew they could be in danger, Y/N couldn't take being locked up in a locker anymore. She stepped out, only to be met by Adrian's open locker. The rat lady must have got to him.

"Stupid" they hummed to themselves as they looked around, figuring out what to do.

Suddenly, the door to the locker room opened and the infamous black cat costume appeared before them, taking their breath as always. "Well hello I guess we're stuck in danger together," he said flirty "Might as well make the most out of it" he bowed down before them.

"Poor kitty, and where's your lady?" They said, teasingly to the cat boy who so desperately tried to get under their skin.

"Said she will be right back."

And just on queue, the lady in red stormed into the room. Taking a look at Chat Noir once she sighed. "I'm sorry to do this, but it's important. Multimouse, I need you." She handed the already well-known miraculous box to them as they nodded in response.

It was safe to say Chat Noir was losing his mind. His eyes widened at the sudden information, as he stared at them in amazement. "You're Multimouse?!" he squeaked. Thinking back on the previous times Multimouse came to help and he did nothing but flirt with them. There was something that stood out about them and he never knew what. Now, it all made sense.

Then yet again, he wonders how whenever Multimous was around, Ladybug also got way more talkative and goofy and eager for their attention. He remembers all the fights over Multimouse he and the lady had led. It all came together now.

"Of course I am," they said, tying the necklace around their neck and meeting with Mullo, once again.

"I've missed you Y/N," Mullo said, happily flying around.

"I can say the same" they responded, ready to transform "Mullo, get squeaky!"

"Wow," both of the Paris' superheroes were smitten. Stealing a dirty look from each other for one last time they created a plan with Multimouse to defeat Ninkilia. As Ladybug said, she is completely sure the Akuma is in her hand machine.

"That's the plan, just follow my lead" she finished her speech

"As you wish my lady" Multimouse chimed in before Chat Noir could say anything. Ladybug's hot cheeks were prominent through her mask, and the cat looked nothing but jealous.

"R-right, let's go" the girl with spots exclaimed, her cheeks still burning red.

Jumping from the roof, Multimouse teased the villain. "A mouse? No!" Ninkilia yelled. "If you can live in the garbage now, why can't you do it in a form of a true rat itself" she cried as she shot around random people on the street.

"We have to get to her hand machine quickly," Chat Noir said fighting the lady in black. "And maybe then we can go somewhere just the two of us."

He winked at Multimouse who only laughed, and earned a look of pure hatred from Ladybug. Expecting a comment on his own behalf, Chat Noir was surprised by the lady's response. "You don't want to go with him trust me. I know the best ice cream in town."

Multimouse only laughed "Let's get rid of this rat lady first," they said "Multitude!"

"No, not the mice!" Ninkilia desperately tried shooting the little mice around her as they climbed up her legs. Ladybug's yoyo wrapped around her, pinning her to the ground.

"Chat Noir!" Ladybug exclaimed.

"Cataclysm"

The Akuma has been purified and the trio has once more, saved the day. "Pound it!"

"It has been a pleasure working with you" black cat smiled sheepishly, taking the mouse's hand and kissing it softly. "Will I have the pleasure of seeing you again soon?"

"We'll see," they said, signalizing Ladybug it's time to go.

Ladybug pulled them close, taking them by the waist and already feeling her heart beat faster. Multimouse, or precisely, Y/N placed their head in the crook of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. Soon, they were flying through the air, holding just by her yoyo.

"Thank you for choosing me," they said, as they scootched closer to her body, clinging in fear of falling down.

"How could I not?"

Marinette's heartbeat raced faster as they shared a soft smile. If it were up to her, she would like to fight alongside them all the time.

#miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #chat noir x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #adrien x reader #mlb #mlb adrien #plagg #tikki #mullo #imagine #one-shot #fanfiction #miraculous

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 3 years

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a discussion of jabberwock with team interaction hcs + deeper nash analysis

for anon who asked "Can we get some headcanons for jabberwock members or like headcanons when they're together? (its okay if it was jason or nash only)" and made me realise it's about time i get these guys' personalities down

note before we start: cause i didn't know their names until i wrote this

zack is the bald one, allen is the one with a headband, nick is the other white guy apart from nash.

team hcs

nick gets bullied for being under 6ft, but not by jason

nah good old jason teases all of them for being short fucks, emphasising that they’re all 5ft tall in comparison to him

he 100% lifts things out of the others' reach and then laughs for ages after when they try get them

unfortunately though, they’re all used to this and now just ignore him. either that or nash stares at him so intensely jason actually repents and hands it back

zack’s another one with a very good glare, but he’s used it too often on jason and it’s since stopped working.

also jason gives me ‘straightens his back as much as possible when getting measured so he’ll measure in as 7ft’ vibes

oh and he thinks he could wrestle a gator and win. i’ve got no explanation for that except for the fact you can't tell me it's ooc.

allen’s very protective over his white headband - it’s his lucky item - but he’d never let anyone know that

he’s confident in his abilities like the rest of them, but there’s nothing wrong with wearing a headband just in case

(nash knows anyway)

they watch nba matches together and do not shut up once throughout the entire match - lots of jeering, booing each other if someone criticises a player they like, lots of “i could do that”, lots of “get your fucking hand out of my popcorn do you want me to punch you in the face” etc

they used to all live together, but nash has since moved out. he was sick and tired of trying to make people do chores, as the only one who kept their room clean.

yeah the others’ house looks like a heap of trash but also very much “where’s my toothbrush?” “it’s in the third coke can by the orange peel behind the sink” *silence* “yeah thanks” *a minute later* “who the fuck has been using my toothbrush”

they’re all “bro your dribbling sucks why are you on this team loser” to one another, but also very protective (aka arrogant for one another) if anyone else Dared to criticise one of their teammates

then again, what kind of person would criticise jabberwock

half of the time he spends with jabberwock, nash is a Single Mother TM trying to get a bunch of man children to behave; the other half of the time, he's just as bad as the rest of them

i talk about this a lot but i get the feeling nash is an exceptionally hard worker, but at least he gets to let his hair down around his teammates sometimes

nash is also the only person jason thought was truly ‘strong’ at first sight

and nash is also the only person who can beat jason in a fight, and also the only person who can get nash to train, and also the only person who can.. [etc. you see my point].

(n.b jason calls himself the ‘almighty me’, nash says that ‘even god can’t beat me’. point made.)

you know how jason silver’s motto is “I have never thought”

imagine him proudly stating that, before zack adds with a straight face, “yeah cause nash does it for you.”

in short, the team would fall apart without nash.

although the team’s communication and coordination is very fine tuned, nash is the guy who keeps everything in order off the court to prevent what is essentially a team of aces ('main characters', if you will) from falling apart

they hang out together a lot, but do all have other friend groups that do not overlap

team bbqs

unofficial rule not to criticise anchovies on pizza because the one time nick did, nash snapped

however pineapple on pizza is fair game, even though zack quite likes it

more than once, jason has brought a girl home and nick has stolen her attention away with effortless trick shots, funky ball manoeuvring etc

more than once nick has had to trek to nash’s place (with a black eye) at midnight to have somewhere to sleep

do you see a correlation?

oh and everyone in the team has been walked in on by nash when they were naked with some girl

nash has absolutely no shame

he apologises to the girl with a charming albeit insincere tone, and then remains standing in front of the bed/couch until his teammate does what he expected of them

usually it involves not having come to practice

allen learnt a few (emphasis on ‘few’) words of japanese before they travelled to japan and was disappointed that he never got to use them

that said, one of those words was hentai

and now a quick analysis of some panels

a) so there's at least one player who wasn't underestimating vorpal swords. if i were to overanalyse, i'd add that nick's wearing a hoodie (possibly athletic wear) whilst nash has a 'fancy' shirt on; perhaps nick wasn't expecting them to be going to host clubs instead of chilling/training?

b) i know what you're thinking: "how can you say nash is a hard worker when he didn't want to practice for the match". i reckon he was still pretty high on the complete and utter success of their previous match, that plus being around girls, encouraged him to have a more 'jason-y' personality. (either that or fujimaki didn't want to add too much depth/realism into nash's character bc he's unequivocally the villain, right? and obviously this helps with the plot and the jabberwock bad geniuses gom good geniuses rhetoric.)

earlier, i mentioned how nash is the only one that could keep the team together, and is thus the undeniable head of the team; here's a clear example. you can see both jason and zack have no interest in continuing - if anything, there's disgust in their faces, kinda just saying "we spat on all of japan, now we can go home". whereas nash won't allow for the slightest of possibilities that there might exist a team stronger than them, and hence agrees to the match. the key thing here is that the others do as he says without too much fuss.

another thing to note is nash's reference to harakiri. now what can we make of that, alongside his proficiency in japanese, in relation to his character? the way i see it, he's either a weeb or possibly has some japanese lineage. (you could spin that even further and say his mother was japanese, taught him the language, then abandoned him, and hence his almost excessive hatred/mockery of the japanese people.) (is that why he wanted to do another match in japan..?)

just a quick point. "thanks to him" - jason isn't so superior as to think that he could win this match effortlessly without nash's support. links pretty nicely with my earlier idea about how nash is the only person jason has always considered 100% strong.

yet another point about how nash is the strongest of the team in pretty much every way you can think of. you know how scary/powerful you have to be to shut jason up (after he's getting real pissed from being prevented from scoring?)

i personally think this is a pretty important panel, though i've never seen anyone mention it before. did nash grow up training in a professional basketball training situation, as opposed to growing up playing streetball like i suspect the others did? well, to answer that question, imma bring in another panel.

here we see visible rage on nick, zack and jason's faces - they can't accept their loss, which is fair enough. but i'd argue that nash's face seems to depict sadness more than it does anger like to rest of them, look at how downturned his mouth is - and he's looking away from the 'camera', as if hiding his shame.

when you combine that with what he says here, i have no doubt that this is someone who has experienced some proper lows in basketball - as would be expected from someone who's played 'properly'. he's possibly not even a prodigy like the rest of them - compare jason's motto with his. "i have never thought" versus "do not suppose opportunity will knock twice at your door".

there's various lines of thinking you could design with this - he might have been trained by alex (hence, himuro having heard of jabberwock, though he should have known of a team as popular of jabberwock regardless), he might have grown up with professional basketballer parents etc. but here's my own little theory:

nash received serious basketball training from early on - maybe because his parents were living vicariously through him, or maybe he always loved the sport and wanted to be no1. so there he was training away, but, as he grew older, it started getting all a bit too much.

he didn't want to dedicate his entire life to basketball. after all, his hobby is water sports and his speciality is boxing; that's a lot of different things to be keeping up with, whereas the pipeline for promising athletes demands people focus solely on basketball. as a result, nash become bitter: stopped attending practice regularly, got in trouble for trash talk of increasing severity, etc.

result was he was kicked out of the program.

only when he was no longer playing basketball again, did he realise how much he missed it. and hence he got into streetball, where he was tremendously successful as someone with so much training, 'elite skills', and the overly confident attitude to boot.

then, one fateful day, he met jason and the rest is history.

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

Meet Your Match || Mob!Tom Smut

Summary ↠ It’s always awkward when your current boyfriend meets your ex, but it’s a whole new level when it transpires that your ex-boyfriend is the leader of Tom’s rival mob...

Warnings ↠ 18+, contains mature nsfw material. There are extended warnings beneath the cut, but this is quite heavy.

Word count ↠ 5.9k

A/N ↠ Genuinely am shocked that this came out of my head tbh. It is very intense so please consult the warnings before you dive in ! The entire concept of the first half is very random and almost crack, but then the second half...phew. Sheesh. Thanks to V, mischiefandi, for suggesting I write in a hot Irish mobster as Y/N’s ex...love that for her, and I love you V. I hope you all enjoy this :)

This is a part of my mob!Tom series – a collection of oneshots set within the same universe. You don’t need to read the other parts for this to make sense! You can find the other parts in my masterlist.

18+ do not touch this if you are a minor.

extended warnings: lol. mob themes including gun mention and punching, a broken nose ft minor mentions of blood, a bit of a dodgy ex who makes some uncomfortable comments, alcohol, possessive!jealous!Tom, d/s dynamics, soft!dom!Tom, mean!dom!Tom, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), spitting, orgasm denial and edging, guided masturbation, rough sex, doggy-style, like two minor instances of spanking, he calls her slut once. im not here to fuck around this goes hard so if you aren’t into rough stuff this isn’t for you. also includes unprotected sex -- please practise safe sex (condoms provide barriers against STIs as well as unwanted pregnancy. pls be safe irl). i would like mob!tom to rail me thank u. enjoy.

--------- Meet Your Match ---------

You’d never given much thought to the possibility of Tom meeting one of your exes. Why would you, when being with him is infinitely more satisfying, loving, and enjoyable than it had ever been with one of them?

But if you’d had to imagine it, you would’ve pictured it casually. Maybe you’d be out somewhere together - at a café, or a market, with Tom’s arm wrapped safely around you. You’d see your ex - whoever it may be - and there’d be an awkward encounter. The exchange of painful hellos and goodbyes, maybe some piercing stares, and pinched words. Then, you’d move on, and that would be that.

Never, in your wildest dreams, would you have imagined you’d run into your ex-boyfriend whilst in attendance at a meeting of the London mobs.

It’s a special event - a large, networking occasion, organised by Tom, as an opportunity for him to meet with his partners and rivals, as they come together to cordially bond over beer and discuss business plans. It’s hosted right in the centre of Piccadilly, in the elegant conference room of a luxurious hotel. You’re just starting to relax and settle in when you glance across the room and see him:

Aidan. Your ex-boyfriend. At… A meeting of the mobs of London?

“What the fuck,” you mutter. You almost drop your glass of champagne as you narrow your eyes and stare. The conference room is vast, adorned with glittering chandeliers and large banquet tables, but it’s undeniable: Aidan is here.

“Everything alright, love?” Tom’s by your side, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders. He’s in remarkably high spirits this evening. The event is fully underway, and judging by the snippets of conversation you’ve been hearing, Tom’s latest plans are coming into fruition - something about warehouses, and a shipment of class A drugs. But none of it matters now, because your mind is entirely elsewhere.

“No,” you state immediately.

Tom cranes his neck, his eyes seeking you out. You manage to drag your gaze away from Aidan for a brief second.

“What is it?” He’s looking at you with those deep, warm brown eyes, and his gaze is so tender it makes your breath hitch. One of Tom’s fingers moves up to caress your cheek, and you find yourself shifting guiltily on your feet.

“Who, exactly, did you invite to this meeting?” You ask your boyfriend, speaking in hushed tones. Your eyes slip back to Aidan, and you feel yourself relax as you note he’s still deep in conversation with a few men.

“Suppliers, rivals, allies… Anyone of importance, really.” Tom narrows his eyes, his thumb brushing over your chin as he looks at you closely. “Why?”

“Did you know that you’ve also invited my ex-boyfriend?”

Judging by the look of utter shock on Tom’s face, he had not, in fact, realised his fundamental truth.

“Who?” He asks immediately. His face shifts through several shades before settling on jealous, with his eyebrows bunched together.

You turn around, resting one hand on the broad shoulder of Tom’s suit before using your other to point out across the crowd.

“Aidan.”

Tom squints his eyes, a small rumbling noise travelling up his throat. “Aidan?” He repeats, his voice flooded with confusion. You hum affirmatively. “Bloke with the blond hair? Irish?” Again, a hum. Tom releases a short, curt chuckle. “Angel, he’s not called Aidan.”

“What?” You exclaim.

Tom releases a deep sigh. “That’s Gordy. He runs the Eastside.”

You feel your jaw loosen. A fake name. “Gordy Byrne?”

“The one and only.”

“Shit.”

You’ve been with Tom for a year. Over those long, fulfilling twelve months, you’ve picked up on several important key pieces of information about the London mob: it’s split into three factions, each sector run by a different figurehead. Tom and his family control the South-West, and they’re in constant disagreement with Gordy, of the East, and Monique, of the North. Each third is continuously testing the waters, trying to take over land, and supplies, and emerge as the solo Kingpin of London. The fragile alliance between the three families is constantly on the verge of disintegration.

And Gordy is your ex, who you’d met three years ago at the same exclusive club you’d worked in when you’d met Tom. Your relationship had lasted eight months and ended on equal terms as you’d mutually agreed the spark had fizzled away. Despite the considerable span of your relationship, you’d had no suspicions that he’d been involved with the mob. The thought is incredibly jarring.

“Seems like you have a type,” Tom comments, his voice entirely too flippant.

Before you can call him out on his apparent feelings of resentment, your evening takes a further turn as you realise Gordy has spotted you and is now working his way through the sea of people towards you.

He looks just as you remember: 6’2, blond, green-eyed. His shoulders are stocky and broad, and his suit bulges with disguised muscles. He maintains that signature swagger you’d come to associate with him, his eyes glinting as he throws out a wild smile. Your eyes catch on the presence of a few new golden teeth fixed in his mouth, and then to the tattooed knuckles that hang by his side.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Gordy greets, green eyes skimming across you appreciatively, “Who’d ‘a thought we’d meet again?”

All you can really do is let out a squeak of agreement, and pull away from Tom’s side to greet the man with a kiss on the cheek. The familiar scent of Gordy’s musky cologne drifts up your nose, and it makes your head spin.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you pull away, looking at him incredulously. His pale cheeks wear a scruff of fuzz, highlighting the high arches of his cheekbones.

“What are you doing here?” He returns, his Irish accent twanging. His eyes shift over to Tom, then back to you, and then they watch as Tom reaches out and carefully tangles his fingers with yours. “Wait…”

“Evening, mate,” Tom greets, voice a little clipped. You feel the grip on your hand tighten, and you let him reel you back into his side. You find home beneath Tom’s heavy arm as he repositions it across your shoulder, keeping you near. “I see you’ve already met my girlfriend.”

The air seems to flicker with tension.

“Interesting,” Gordy comments. He shifts his attention back to you, drawing the lines of your face with his curious eyes. “Didn’t take you for the type, Y/N. Would’ve stuck around if I’d thought you could handle this life.”

His words dig into you, and you find yourself clenching your teeth.

“You told me you worked in banking.”

“Oh, I do.” He runs his fingers down the front of his designer suit, winking. “The mob is quite a lucrative business.” He pauses, and something a little like guilt flashes over his face. “You know my real name, yeah? Gordy, not Aidan. Sorry about that. I hate the lies, but they’re for protection, y’know.”

You feel almost dizzy as you bring your glass of champagne to your lips and throw it back. The bubbles do little to soothe down your discomfort.

“Wow,” you manage. Your eyes shift up to Tom, who’s looking at Gordy with apprehension in his gaze. You understand why: for the past two months, Tom’s been engaged in a brutal turf-war with Gordy’s family over in the South-East. Men have died, shipments stolen. You know one of Tom’s primary motivations for the meeting tonight was to see if he could reach some kind of agreement with them, but the circumstances were tense enough as it was, before this.

“Isn’t this fun,” Gordy comments. He’s eyeing up Tom now, a cocky smirk hanging from his plush lower lips. “Well, Thomas, it’d seem you and I have a lot more in common than we’d thought, eh? Maybe we’ll be able to come to an agreement.”

Your stomach turns, and you feel Tom tighten his grip on your arm. He clears his throat, and when he speaks, his tone is so severe that it knocks the air from your lungs.

“Don’t talk about Y/N like that,” he warns darkly. “We will not be making any deals tonight, Gordy.”

You raise your eyebrows, trying to meet his eyes but finding that Tom ignores your attempts and instead keeps staring straight ahead at your ex-boyfriend, a determined frown hanging from his thin lips.

“Why’s that, Thomas?” He quips.

“I don’t like your attitude, I don’t like your policies, and I don’t like the way you’re looking at my girlfriend.”

Gordy arches an eyebrow. His hand slips down slowly to rest on his hip, but not before his suit jacket has ridden up just enough to expose the sleek outline of his gun, hanging low in the holster on his belt.

“Is this how it’s going to be, Tom?” He asks, shifting his eyes back to you. “Eh? I bed your bird and suddenly business is off the table?”

You can feel the mood sour, and as much as you’d like to reach out and give Gordy a piece of your mind, you are painfully aware of the circumstances: you are standing in the lion’s den. Despite the meeting of Tom’s creation, you know that there’s no chance in hell that Gordy has walked into the evening alone. To initiate any sort of heated discussion whilst surrounded by London’s most notorious gangsters would be a disastrous move.

“Tom,” you murmur, recognising all too well the signs of anger that curl out across Tom’s face: his clenched jaw, the deep frown marks on his forehead, the tight line of his lips. “Let’s go.”

For a moment you think he’s going to follow you. Tom lets you shrug off his arm and take his hand, and his posture loosens as if he’s about to turn and walk across the room with you. But then, of course, Gordy just has to get in the last word.

“Oh, well, if you’re going, you won’t mind giving me a goodbye kiss, eh, Y/N?” He peers at you with mischievous eyes, his voice lilting lightly. “Just like old times?”

Tom’s moving before you can even attempt to stop him, and you hear a loud crack as his fist sweeps up and collides with Gordy’s nose. The man doubles over, groaning profusely, and your eyes widen as you take in the stream of blood that immediately begins to pour from his face.

“Tom!” You exclaim, your eyes wide and your hands shaking. Your boyfriend grabs at your fingers, squeezing your digits in his.

“He’s not allowed to disrespect you like that,” he mutters darkly.

“I don’t need you to defend me, I can do it myself,” you hiss back. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you feel the hot lump of anger melt away as Tom looks at you through those brown, golden eyes, his mouth positioned into a guilty smile.

Two men emerge from the crowd and flank Gordy’s side. You feel a deep swell of fear pool in the pit of your stomach, and instinctively your fingers move down towards your bag for the switch-blade you’d buried alongside your lipstick. But you find your actions stilling as Gordy clears his throat, rights himself and holds up a bloody hand.

“It’s fine,” Gordy tells his guards. He tilts his head in your direction. “I deserved it. No disrespect to the lady.” His beady green eyes move to Tom. “We can finish this discussion some other time, Thomas. Good evening to you both.”

Before waiting to see if Gordy turns around and walks away, you tighten your grip on Tom’s hand and lead him out of the large conference room. It’s completely silent, and the groups of people seem to part like the sea as you escort your boyfriend from the scene, his lips brushing over the back of his bruised hand as he winces. You don’t say anything, not until you’re safely stowed away in the backseat of a large car, the doors locked, windows tinted, and driver separated by partition.

“Love, look, I’m sorry, but I-”

You cut Tom off by climbing from your seat and meeting his mouth with a deep, needy kiss. Your boyfriend releases a noise of surprise, and his hands shift up to grab at your waist as he pulls you onto his lap eagerly, pressing back against your lips with fervour. It’s messy, and you enjoy running your hands through strands of his unruly hair as he keeps you close, his fingers grasping at every area of your front and sides, mapping you out.

“What did I do to deserve that?” Tom murmurs, his curious eyes meeting yours. “Thought I was in trouble.” His hands cup your cheeks, and you give him a coy smile.

“You shouldn’t have punched him,” you tell him, biting your lip as his thumb brushes over the soft skin of your face. “I’m glad that you did, though. He was a dick.”

Tom hums. “And also the enemy, love.”

Your eyebrows knit together, and you sit back on Tom’s wide thighs as you sigh. “I can’t believe he runs one of the other mobs,” you mutter. “I can’t believe I’ve dated two mobsters, and I didn’t even know.”

Tom’s smile doesn’t quite stretch to his eyes, but he still manages a short chuckle. “I hate the thought of you being with him,” he admits. His eyes stir with something darker, and his fingers dig into your waist. “I hate the thought of you being with anyone other than me.”

You bite your lower lip as you twirl the short strands at the nape of his neck around your fingers. “It was a long time ago,” you tell him. “Our relationship wasn’t anything of consequence.”

Your boyfriend chuckles, but he’s still got that hungry glint in his eyes. You feel a shiver roll down your spine as his gaze sweeps across your face, his hands shifting up to rest on the curves of your breasts. Your dress is thin, and the neckline meant you had to go without a bra. A soft gasp falls past your lips as Tom’s thumbs brush over the lines of your nipples, which prick in response to his touch.

“Is our relationship of consequence?” Tom asks, his voice dancing. He’s staring at your chest now, his smirk widening as you instinctively push further into his hands, enjoying the feeling of his large, warm palms groping at your breasts.

“Of course.” You swallow and bring your fingers away from his neck. With careful movements, you reach up and pull the straps of your dress from your shoulders, meeting Tom’s gaze as you roll down the front of the garment, exposing your bare chest to him. “I love you.”

Tom seeks out your neck with his lips, and you release a small gasp as he sucks firmly on the base of your throat, his fingers moving over your bare chest. You can feel his mouth pulling the blood to the surface of your skin, but the pain makes you cry out in pleasure as your fingers wrap around his suit jacket and fist at the expensive material hugging his back. He takes his time as he works his way up your neck, sucking and biting, and then soothing the throbbing marks with gentle laps of his tongue and soft, open-mouthed kisses. By the time he reaches your ear, you’re squirming in his lap.

“You are mine.”

His tongue teases the lobe of your ear as his hands move all across your bare back, caressing your skin gently with his palms. The cold metal of his silver rings bites to touch, but you shiver in enjoyment.

“Yours,” you agree. Tom shifts from your neck to look at you straight on, his eyes full of dark, heady lust.

“Mine,” he repeats. His mouth is on yours, and you let him prise apart your lips with his tongue. His hands fist at your hair and he pulls you closer roughly, and your teeth collide as he kisses you sloppily, groaning into your mouth. It’s messy - with noses bashing and his digits tugging at your strands and your lips moving everywhere, slick with spit - but you feel him gather you up in his arms as he holds you. He owns you.

You make-out until the car arrives home, at which point your lips are tender and puffy and your entire body throbs with persistent arousal. Tom’s eager with his affection, but you can feel the underlying pulse of fear coasting through his veins; you want so desperately to placate it: to let him know that he has nothing to worry about - that you are his now, and probably always will be. Tom’s not alone in his discomfort - you, too, feel jilted and unbalanced after running into a ghost from your past. You need Tom desperately, in more ways that one. You need him to look after you - to hold you, be firm with you, and show you your place within your relationship. You need him to be your dom, and you crave the release of submitting to him entirely - with your mind, body and heart.

“You can do anything you want to me tonight,” you tell him. You’re standing at the foot of the bed, Tom sitting up against the headboard. His suit jacket lays off to the side, tie hanging loose around his neck and his top two buttons undone. You’ve made a mess of his hair, but he looks so fucking pretty with his chestnut curls all tousled and his lips bright pink and inflamed.

“That’s funny,” Tom comments, eyes glinting as he tilts his head to the side, “I thought I could already do that.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself biting your lower lip as your face fills up with heat.

“Do you want me to take off my dress?” Your fingers toy with the straps, which are all rolled up and uneven thanks to the hastiness in which you’d scrambled from the car.

“No.” Tom sits up, and he pats his thigh invitingly. “Take off your panties and come up here.”

You tease him a little bit, enjoying the way his gaze weighs down your figure. You’re slow to push your dress up to your waist, and you make a show of hooking your index fingers beneath the band to reveal lacy panties. You tug at the material until it falls to pool at your feet, and then you delicately step away from them and approach your boyfriend. You have a sudden thought that it’s as if you are the prey, walking straight into danger, but you welcome it: Tom’s looking at you, his expression hard but excited and his eyes swimming with darkness, and it makes your throat dry up.

“Such a gorgeous girl, aren’t you?”

The material of Tom’s slacks feels coarse against your centre as you straddle his left thigh. His hands press at your waist, pushing your cunt straight against his leg, and the contact makes you moan softly.

“You look so pretty with your neck all marked up.” Tom presses a light kiss to one of your hickeys, and you gasp as a line of pain ripples out across your skin. “You look like you’re mine.”

“I am.”

“I know.” Tom strokes his hand through your hair, eyes watching you carefully. “I’m just going to remind you.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You ask, your voice wavering.

He hums, the noise suspended with confidence. “You’ll see.” His hands dig into your waist a little firmer, and he starts to guide your movements. “Work yourself against my thigh, darling. Make a nice wet spot for me.”

His words make you moan, and you’re quick to comply. You recognise the dark glint in his eyes and the layers to his voice - he’s slipping away into his harder, more dominative side, just as you find yourself eager to oblige him. You grind yourself down over his thigh, and his trousers are rough against your flushed centre. The friction burns beautifully. A few moans slip past your lips, and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press over you, digging into your waist, guiding you. Tom is very much in control, and as the seconds slip past, you give into it.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmurs, rich voice drifting into your ears. You bite your lip, your hole clenching around nothing as you swivel your hips and feel the pressure to your hot bud.

“Feels really good,” you admit, voice a whimper. “Love it when you let me touch you.”

Tom takes your chin between two fingers, looking at you with a hard stare. He pulls your face to him, his tongue licking a wide stripe over your lips. As you try to push forward for a kiss, he just moves away, a teasing smirk on his lips. “No,” he says softly, “You’ll take what I give you, and you won’t be greedy about it. I don’t want to have to punish you, babygirl.”

You nod quickly, the movement hurried and messy. It’s getting hard to think of anything other than the fact you’ve made his trousers slick with your arousal. The burn between your legs is gradually swelling to a crescendo.

“Sorry,” you whisper. Your fingers find purchase on his shoulder, and you find your forehead dropping down to rest there too as your breathing hitches.

“Are you close, darling?” He’s very soft and gentle, and it makes you whimper out a small noise of agreement. Tom chuckles, pulling at your hair as he brings your face back up, his hands bearing down on your hips to halt your movements. “Lie down for me, please.”

You scramble from his lap, your centre pulsing as it leaves his thigh. Your eyes catch on the way you’ve left a large, wet mark on his trousers, and you watch with wide eyes as Tom stands from the bed. He walks around to the foot of the mattress, his figure commanding your complete attention.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’d like to do to you,” he says, speaking quietly. His nimble fingers work down the buttons of his shirt, popping them quickly. Once his shirt is discarded, Tom works on his slacks. As the metallic sounds of his belt clicking fill the air, he smirks at you. “Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes,” you say immediately. You squeal as Tom grabs at your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, hauling you closer until your thighs are over his shoulders and his face is near your heat. Your dress scrunches up at your waist, and you whimper as his hands press your legs apart. “I’ll always be good for you.”

“Is that right?” Tom asks, index finger running lightly over the inside of one of your thighs. He looks up at you, eyes hooded and blown wide with lust.

“Yes.”

“Prove it to me,” he instructs. “If you think you’re about to cum, you need to tell me.” Tom’s gaze darkens. “If you disobey me, you won’t enjoy what happens.” With tender lips, he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, looking at you with a gentle smile. When he speaks again, his voice is lighter, “Is this okay, darling?”

You nod.

“Words.”

As two of Tom’s fingers spread your puffy outer lips, you stammer out a broken, “Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

He dives in quickly, and the press of his warm tongue against your pulsing pussy makes you cry out. You’re already feeling hot and bothered from the time you spent rutting against the coarse material of his trousers, and the pressure soothes you. He’s too far away to touch, so you curl your hands into fists and pull at the silky bed linen, eyelids fluttering shut as his tongue caresses you, over and over.

Tom makes out sloppily with your cunt, two of his slender fingers pulling up to push into your heat. He fills you easily, taking the edge off your desire as his tongue flicks over your clit, unrelenting, hard. He’s eager for it, holding nothing back as he coaxes you quickly towards a high, moaning and grunting into your centre. The vibrations drive you mad, and your mind spins off as he holds you in place.

“S-Shit,” you stammer, back arching. As much as you don’t want to say it, Tom’s already pushing you towards climax. As he curls his slender digits up against you, his tips brush against your g-spot, and it has you seeing stars. “I’m gonna cum, Tom.”

All movements stop. Tom’s mouth pulls back from your cunt, and his fingers still inside you. Your walls clench around him, but he relaxes them, halting all stimulation of your sensitive pussy as you whimper.

“Good,” he coos. Your eyes seek him out, and you moan as you see his chin slick with your juices. “You taste divine, sweetheart.” His free hand strokes over your inner thigh, calming you with gentle circles and caresses. “We’ll do this a few more times, I think. I want you dripping onto the sheets. I want you to forget about everything apart from me, and how desperate you are for me.” His teeth nip at your thigh, and you squirm.

True to his word, Tom works you up, over and over again. Each time he brings you to the edge of a high, he pulls back at the last moment, leaving you teetering on the edge for a painful second before your climax goes ebbing away from your reach. The time it takes to build up to each edge narrows considerably with each completion, and you find yourself growing desperate for more. Your skin is hot and prickles, your forehead breaking into a sweat. The muscles in your legs ache from the exertion of almost spasming into climax, time and time again, and your throat hurts from your eager, desperate moans. He’s a demon, his deep brown eyes watching you closely, sharp ears picking up each noise and sound, and he seems intent on drawing this out for as long as possible.

“I think that’s enough,” Tom finally says. Your sigh of relief is so loud and pronounced that it makes him chuckle. “What, you didn’t like that?” His hand comes down over your inner thigh, slapping softly. As the pain ripples across your skin, you whimper. “Don’t lie to me, angel. I know you love it when I’ve got my head between your legs.” His large hands slip under your thighs, and he pushes you up the bed, slipping up over you. With his body suspended above you and a hand either side of your head, Tom raises his eyebrows. “Open,” he instructs.

What he does next makes your eyes roll back. You open your mouth immediately, and he chuckles darkly. One hand holds your jaw, and you watch as Tom purses his lips, eyes you intently, and then spits directly into your mouth. The taste of your cunt spreads out across your tongue, and your hole clenches around nothing as you moan loudly.

“Swallow,” he says. You close your mouth and do just that, and then you stick out your tongue for him to see. “Good,” he coos. Tom kisses you suddenly, the action hard as he sucks on your tongue. When he pulls back, he kisses your nose. “Pretty girl, aren’t you? My pretty girl.”

His lips skate all across your face, dusting you in warm kisses of reward.

“I love you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The gratitude you feel towards him for knowing exactly what you need is boundless, consuming.

“And I love you.” You share a tender moment of understanding as Tom brushes his hand over your face, and in the look you exchange, you know that he feels as you do: appreciation towards your partner, for reading you and obliging you. He hums softly, slipping away from you after a final kiss to pull off his boxers. “Take off your dress for me, love. Give me a show.”

You’re shaky on your feet, but you manage to stand in front of the bed. Tom sits up against the headboard, working his hand over his erect length as he watches you. You tease him, just like you know he enjoys, taking your time as you roll the sleeves down and unzip the back. The material goes tumbling to the floor, pooling at your feet, and then you’re entirely naked - wearing only his hickeys, and his spit between your legs.

“Beautiful,” he says, eyes glinting. “You’re an angel, aren’t you?” When you shrug bashfully, he nods. “My angel. C’mere.” You move to him, but he stops you before you can reach for his cock. “I want you to lie down here and show me how you get off.”

“But I want--”

He shuts you up with a hard stare. “Do you really want to finish that sentence?” When you’re quiet, he hums. You can’t stop staring at the way his hands slide over his length. Your mouth waters at the thought of letting your tongue wander over his leaking tip, collecting the beads of salty precum. “Do this for me, and then I’ll let you have what you want.”

You part your legs, your thighs aching. As you dip your hand between your legs, you whimper to feel your slick mixed with Tom’s spit. Your skin is soaked, and as you nimbly press two fingers into your hole, you find it looser, already stretched from Tom’s exploration earlier. You can feel his eyes on you, watching your hand move as you slowly fuck yourself with your fingers, getting pleasure from the knuckle of your thumb as it brushes up against your clit.

As you begin to whimper, Tom swoops in with his final lesson of the evening. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around yours, guiding your movements. He sets the pace and the angle, speeding up your thrusts. The sound of your wetness sloshing around makes you cry out loudly as he edges you perfectly, like he knows your body better than you.

“You see this,” he mutters, voice husky. “I give you pleasure. It doesn’t matter if it’s my tongue in your cunt, or my fingers, or my cock. This cunt?” He curls your fingers, and they brush up against your g-spot, making you cry out. “This cunt is mine. You are mine.”

You almost lose it right there, the deep husky tones of his dominant voice sending you spinning, but then Tom pulls away. As your walls flutter weakly around nothing, he pats at your hip.

“Hands and knees, darling.”

Your arms shake as you roll over, adopting the position. Again, Tom stands at the foot of the bed, pulling you back until you’re spread open for him. You feel his cock, dragging through your slick folds, teasing your tender clit until your hips jerk forwards. Your bud aches almost painfully, your body pulled tight with an overwhelming need to climax.

“Please,” you beg desperately, dropping your head between your arms. “Please, please.”

Tom’s hand smooths over the curve of your ass, silver ring biting coolly against you, “Does my darling want to feel my cock?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hmm.” Easily, he slips the tip of his cock past your entrance. “I suppose you deserve it,” he teases. “Been such a good little slut for me, haven’t you?”

When Tom finally fucks into you, the moan you release is almost pornographic. He’s been teasing you, over and over, drawing you close to orgasm only to jerk it away from you each time, but now that he’s got his length buried up to the hilt inside you, you know it’s been worth it. Nothing compares to the relief you feel as you realise you’ll be allowed to finish soon, your walls squeezing his cock.

The pace is punishing, and everything blurs together. His hands on your hips, holding you in place, pulling you back rhythmically to meet with his thrusts. As his slick cock pounds into you over and over, his flushed tip nudges against your g-spot. The stimulation makes your eyes tear up, and a few hot tears skate across your cheeks as you whimper and cling to the sheets.

“Fuck, princess, you’re fucking perfect for me, aren’t you?” A hand falls over your bum, and you moan. “So tight and warm. Feels so snug around me, lovie. So perfect.” Tom’s voice comes out firm, but it wavers, and you can imagine the grimace of pleasure on his face. “Always take me so well.” His hand moves to the top of your back, and he pushes you into the bed. Your face buries into the sheets as the angle adjusts, and you gasp loudly as the adjustment means he can rail you harder.

“S-Shit,” you moan. “Love your cock, Tommy. Pl-Please.”

“What do you need?”

You whimper, the power of his thrusts fucking you further into the mattress. “W’nna cum.”

“You can play with your clit then.”

Tears fly down your cheeks, and it feels overwhelming as you nudge a hand between your legs to fondle your bud. Tom’s hands hold your hips, keeping you nice and open for him, and you’re glad for the heavy pressure on your skin. It keeps you anchored down.

“Are you close?” He asks, grunting heavily as he feels your walls squeeze him.

“Yes.”

“I think you deserve to cum, don’t you?” He pauses briefly, cursing lowly, pace faltering. “Let go, darling. Let me feel you squeezing me. I want to feel what I do to you.”

The action of his deep, fast thrusts mixes with your fingers on your clit, and you cum with a loud, quivering scream. Tom holds you down, fucking into you as you spasm and writhe in the sheets, and after a few, mind-numbing moments of pleasure, you feel him follow you with a grunt. His hot speed paints your walls, his noises of heady enjoyment mixing with yours, and it just prolongs your climax.

When you calm down, Tom carefully pulls out from you. You whimper at the loss, feeling a little out of it as he turns you over, pushes you up into the centre of the bed and pulls you on top of him. Your head settles in the crook of his neck, his hands palming over your back as he kisses the top of your head, over and over again.

“So good for me,” he mumbles. Your legs tangle together. You can feel his cum spilling from your hole, dripping down onto him, but he doesn’t seem to care. “My best girl. I love you so much.”

You hum quietly, rubbing your hand over the top of his arm as you whimper. “Love you too,” you manage, voice hoarse.

Tom’s hands cup your face, and he gently coaxes you up until he can meet with your eyes. His fingers brush away the teary residue from your cheeks, and he kisses you softly.

“Mine,” he mumbles against you, smiling into your lips as you hum in agreement. One of your hands folds into his curls, and you feel your heart stirring contentedly in your chest.

“Yours.”

---------

lol. hope you enjoyyyyed :)

I’m intending to do some mob!Tom blurbs next week for mob!Monday, so if you have any concepts you’d like to see, please send them to my ask box!

ask box is open for your thoughts!! I’m dying to know what you think of this... 👀

masterlist linked in bio!

#tom holland punch my lights out challenge ❤️#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tomfic #mm #smut #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert #yeeeeeep #queue

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thebrochtuarachs · 3 years

Text

Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”

A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3 / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions

XXXXX

After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.

Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.

The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.

The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.

The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”

“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.

“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”

“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”

“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”

Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.

“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”

“And what’s your schedule for the month?”

“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”

Jamie just nodded. The next month.

It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.

“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.

“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.

Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”

Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.

“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.

“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”

“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.

“I told ye it’s daft.”

“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”

Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.

But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.

Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.

Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.

With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”

Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”

“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.

“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.

As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.

So the four-week long distance trial began.

The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.

Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.

Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.

They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.

It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.

It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.

Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”

With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article

On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.

“Ah, lad”

“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”

“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”

“Today? Not yet. Why?”

She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.

She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.

“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.

“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.

“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”

“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”

Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.

“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.

“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”

“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”

“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.

“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”

“A bit but something we can talk about later.”

“Okay”

It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.

It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”

“Why didn’t you call -?”

“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”

“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.

“Are we okay now?” she asked.

“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #something in the rain #sitr #mia writers #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #geillis duncan #mrs. fitz #geneva dunsany #sam heughan #caitriona balfe #sam x cait #samcait #sam cait

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elysianslove · 3 years

Note

Hi! <3 I'm the roomate hc anon again (lol) and can I request best friends to lovers hc for iwaizumi, kuroo and oikawa? Also this blog is gonna blow up soon so remember me when you're famous bro 😌✊️❤️

OMG HI AGAIN! i’m so sorry this is late :( but oh my the excitement that flooded through me when i saw this request hsvhjsd. i really hope you enjoy this!! also vshdks i luv u bb THANK YOU.

iwaizumi hajime

im making these as detailed as fuck so i apologize in advance <3

becoming best friends with hajime was a very out of the blue thing

the two of you shared a lot of classes together, and since you were always seeing each other, you’d choose each other as partners a lot

you’d sit next to him in all the classes that you could

you’d meet up a lot during school breaks and just hang out

you two clicked very well honestly, like you found that it was so easy to talk to him, and it was so easy to lose yourself in the conversation

most of your convos are v mature and sophisticated too like

it’s nice when you can talk to someone on the same brain wavelength as you yk 😼

anyways overtime you’d come to his practice sessions, and even if they were long you’d just stay and watch bc why not

if you had hw to do and he noticed you were a lil stressed about it, he’d tell u to come study while he practiced as a change of scenery and all

he’d walk you home almost every night at this point

oikawa noticing and being jealous <3

“they’re stealing you from me!” “they’re not— what is wrong with you oikawa.”

okay so this best friend stuff has been going on for a long time

long enough for you to realize you wanted more from him

but this is iwaizumi hajime and it’s almost impossible to know what he’s thinking

ever

so you just keep it to yourself, thinking it’s just a small crush and it’s not worth ruining what the two of you have at this rate

so all this had happened first year, and when you’re nearing the end of your second year

that’s when you realize that

shit

it’s not just a crush

and when you have feelings for someone, every little thing they do expands a million times in your head

so a hug from him that you’d once never go over twice has you thinking about it as you go to sleep

the hoodies he’d lend you during practice while you stayed in the gym bc it was ungodly cold in there now send tingles down your spine at the lingering scent of him

the way he’d grab your hand to drag you somewhere now leave a heavy effect on your palm, forcing you to trace it once he’s gone

his texts give you butterflies

every time his name pops up on your phone screen you have a mini heart attack

and yeah

those are all symptoms of a crush

but is a crush meant to last this long?

at the start of your third year, you greet him outside of the school gates after not seeing you all summer

he smiles so bright and hugs you so, so tightly

you already are so hyperaware of how strong iwa is

but the feelings you have for him that won’t go away are so not helping your fixation on the feel of his biceps

anyways before this becomes v nsfw

you two catch up like u had met yesterday

and then at the end of the day, after practice, which you stay for bc u missed ur vbc boys 🥺

he walks you home

like always

and as he stands by your front door, in a burst of courage, he takes your hand in his and pulls you harshly towards him, pushing his body against yours and capturing your lips in a heated kiss

it’s so messy and harsh and you pretty much collided

but holy shit

you were pretty sure fireworks erupted when you two kissed

years of pining and what had felt like unrequited love finally being resolved

it’s the most satisfying feeling ever

you never want to stop kissing him

but alas </3

when he pulls back, you’re both breathing so heavily

you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline or the kiss itself

and he just looks at you and goes “did u tan while you’re away ur eyes look brighter”

no sir i am in love with you

when you two officiate things

he’s actually way shyer than he was as best friends???

like as best friends he wouldn’t feel slightly weird about hugging you in public or grabbing at your hand randomly or being seen alone with you

but now like

people know ??? and somehow that scares iwa

or makes him uncomfortable

idk he just feels iffy

but ur so understanding bless ur heart <3

ur so careful with him and take it at his own pace

zero pda at the start of the relationship

like he won’t even wanna hug u in front of the seijoh team

but slowly he warms up

and he starts getting more comfortable with things like hand holding and occasional pecks on the cheek/lips

your traditions as best friends don’t die as lovers

if anything you believe in them even more

now you watch more diligently during practice

you proudly attend his games in his jersey, cheering the loudest for him (and for the rest of the boys bc they: best)

walks home with you are so much more serene

always gives you a kiss before he parts ways

idk it’s like some sort of commemoration for your first kiss/confession

unless you invite him inside 😏

this is so fucking long im so sorry i just love iwa

anyways anybody want boyfriend!iwa headcanons i got a lot hehe

to conclude, it was so gradual and inevitable with the two of you, and you’re forever glad it happened when it did and you hadn’t rushed anything <3333

oikawa tōru

unlike hajime, this wasn’t something that took one or two years

this bitch couldn’t admit he was in love with you for like 10 years okay

you’ve known him for the majority of your life, because you’d always lived in close proximity to each other

but you were never best friends yk? just acquaintances

it was around the end of middle school when you two got close

cause you saw he was applying to aoba johsai for high school

and you were like !!! i’m going there too

at first he was like stop copying me 😾

you guys had a staring contest bc y’all are idiots and there were legit tears streaming down ur face but u were not about to lose to a pissbaby like him

he blinked 😁👍🏼

and he lost

and then he decided “you’re my best friend now ”

anyways aside iwa, he now had someone else he was going into high school with

like it’s a completely new environment but he had two people he very much liked going with him !!!

when the time came around to like apply for/join clubs, you had been so clueless

but toru stuck by you !! and he was so adamant on helping you !!

he would sit with you after school as he practiced tossing with hajime and just brainstorm with you what you liked to do

it’s what brought you two closer together

cause you realized just how many things in common you had with him

for a full week he tried to help you come up with something

for the sake of this hc let’s say u decide to join the newsletter club

you’re very wary at first but then he’s like when ur part of it you’ll visit the vbc regularly so u can take pictures/observe to write essays

the fact that toru would be there kinda set you at ease

now you’ve never seen toru play properly

he’s practiced in front of you before

plenty of times

but a proper match? or a practice one?

never

so it’s safe to say u were in awe when you got assigned to go watch a practice match against (idk pick a school)

it’s embarrassing to admit but your eyes were on him the entire time

thank god he became the captain later on else it’d be so sus

you really tried to pay attention to anybody else lmfao

it’s kinda what drew you to him more

you still didn’t really have feelings

you only realized just how passionate he is about everything

at some point you had an essay to write for your newsletter about the volleyball club

but you were having a hard time like really getting into it

so you immediately just called toru and were like “help 😃”

he came over and you asked him a bunch of questions, and he would go on deadass 20 min rants for each of them

you were just

so amazed

like how could someone have so much passion for something like this?

you realize how but that’s for later

overtime you two got closer bc of how much your work was associated with him

he’s incredible as a best friend

he’s the first one with the school’s weekly newsletter as soon as it’s out

granted it’s to read the section about him but yk, the sentiment’s there

also love, love, loves lazy days with you

he doesnt even care if the boys know that he worships the chick flicks you two watch

i feel like oikawa would be an avid anime watcher

idk why i just do

so he’d be blasting anime theme songs on a speaker as you’re in the shower and he’s in your room waiting for you and you’re both just singing w the sound of water rushing down

actually it’s not just anime songs it’s all songs

a l l songs

anyways

so you two get really close, and then he has a super important match coming up

let’s say it’s the spring interhigh one against karasuno

the one they won

idk im just choosing at random

and the night before he’s like begging you on text to wear his jersey

he’s like PLEASE NO ONE’S EVER DONE THAT FOR ME

you’re like bruh u have a cult following ?????

but eventually u say yes

ur not really sure where it’s coming from but this is oikawa he’s an unpredictable as can be

when you show up in a jersey he so conveniently left at your house once

he’s so genuinely shocked even though he was the one that asked for this???

gives you the biggest hug like spins you around and just

“you’re my lucky charm”

when he wins

after celebrating with his team

he runs over to you

and just

he kisses you

full on the mouth

it’s probably the rush and excitement of winning that gave him the courage to finally spill all his feelings out into this kiss

you’re in his jersey, in the stands and you genuinely feel like it’s only just the two of you

despite how sudden it was the kiss is so gentle, like he’d been planning it since forever

“i told you you’re my lucky charm” he says as he rests his forehead against yours and kisses you gently again

oikawa had already been affectionate as your best friend

always displaying his love outwardly with like always calling out your name so loud whenever he sees you and giving you bone crushing hugs

deadass his 6’0 self will just jump on you

but now it’s extra

makki always gags around the two of you but you just stick ur tongue out at him and go “ur just mad ur best friend’s getting some pussy/dick and ur not”

makki then proceeds to shriek at you like a fucking banshee <3

anyways

yes

oikawa best friends to lovers excellence is so cute eeeekkk

and now u always wear his jersey at games

(u couldnt make it to the game against karasuno where they lost for whatever reason and he held it against u for the longest time)

(“maybe if a certain someone were there we wouldn’t have lost”)

what a big baby you love him

kuroo tetsurō

AH SEXY CHEMISTRY NERD 👅👅👅

kuroo as ur best friend

im frothing

i feel like you’d grow close after meeting at an event or something

like you’re a friend of a friend of a friend

i see kuroo as someone who’s so suave and cool and flirty with people he doesn’t have feelings for

but put the crush factor in and he’s a mess

like his brain just stops working

so when he first met you

he thought u were so fucking hot

but that’s it

his lower body was doing all the thinking <3

so he was so flirty

and that’s essentially what your friendship is built off of

and when friends are so flirty with each other, they generally grow close and trust each other really quickly

ur not a nekoma student but ur in tokyo so you meet up often

you just

it’s so nice to be around him

you find it so easy to just be yourself around him

going out with him is super fun

and a lot of the times you guys have study dates and you literally don’t talk except during the 10 min breaks you two take

it’s just hyper focus for the two of you which is great

he really channels the best student in you what a man !

i think during your third year of high school you two got insanely close

because you were highly unsure if you were gonna leave japan or stay

so you wanted to make the most out of everything

so you’d go out with him more often

he’d stay during the weekends and you two would like bake christmas goods all night even if it’s literally september lmfao

cuddling is so natural

like you’re both so touchy with each other but not in a weird way just a super comfortable kind of way

like if you’re shorter than him, he’s always leaning his arm on you like you’re his arm rest

it’s a win win bc he gets to touch you and tease you

wow the horny really jumped out in that one

anyways

you go to every single one of his games !!

cheer him on so!! fucking!! loud!!

you probably make a provocative sign and stand a chair and just wave it around and kuroo’s so heart eyes lmfao

the climb up to becoming lovers is so

natural?

i think kuroo first realizes that maybe, yk, he wants those flirtatious comments to mean something and those random touches to hold more romantic value to them, when you two are out together

it’s a completely chill day and it’s not really warm not really chilly. you’re just comfortable

he takes you to a park after buying the both of you ice cream from the stand across the street and sits down at a bench with you

just people watching

and then it kinda goes really silent

but

it’s not awkward??? like at all???

he’s not looking to fill the silence with any random words

he’s just

enjoying simply being with you

and he glances at you momentarily and it hits him like so hard just how pretty you are

his eyes slightly widen like

holy fuck

what the f u ck

remember when i said he’s all cool until feelings come into play

yeah 😼

he literally freezes up and blurts out, without even meaning to, “i think i have feelings for you.”

he really didnt even process he said that

you kinda

pause for a second

and then you realize what you said and you just smile and lean over towards him, lifting your thumb up to the corner of his lips and brushing away some ice cream

“you think?” you tease, and then at the spot where the ice cream was misplaced, you placed a gentle kiss

he kinda relaxes and then eyes you as he says, “i know.”

it is just. heaven after that

i think the two of you would be less flirty around each other once becoming official

like yeah he definitely comments once or twice every now and then and don’t get me wrong, so do you

but it’s just less frequent

like a blanket has been lifted to uncover the true, hidden meanings behind the comments and you can now just breathe easier

you two end up in the same uni on accident hevejsk

like you had a long ass talk about how it’s okay if you didn’t end up in the same uni you’d still make it work

and it would’ve worked tbh

fate just ships you two too much

when you told each other you were literally that spiderman meme of the two spidermen pointing at each other lmao

power couple of the uni

power couple of tokyo

power couple of japan

you’re literally so happy with him you wouldn’t trade him for the world

and maybe you saw it coming

but it still remains a shock whenever you wake up and he’s there laying next to you, smiling lazily at you before reaching over to give you a gentle kiss

anyways happy early birthday king i love you kuroo hehe

end note; i really had a lotta fun w this one omg!! thank you again for requesting, anon, and i hope everybody else enjoyed!! feel free to request, mwah <3

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru headcanons #oikawa headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi hajime x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #oikawa x you #iwaizumi x you #kuroo x you

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theshelbyclan · 4 years

Text

Family Secrets

Summary: Polly finally lets slip what the real Shelby curse is and as the youngest Shelby, with a little encouragement from John, you feel obligated to use it to your own advantage

(Gif by @mistress-gif) A/N: I wrote this one when I couldn’t sleep, a long time ago, fuelled by my own frustration of being picked on as the youngest. This has been a headcanon of mine for ages and I finally put it to paper. I never had any intention of posting it, but because I’ve reached the 500 followers mark, I decided to share. It’s short, fluffy and a lot lighter than the actual series. Enjoy!

Words: 3220

***

“Give me the fucking book, John!” you bellowed through the kitchen. Your aunt was adamant that you’d all eat together, one day a week, on Sunday. These dinners were great and important, but they always ended in chaos. Tommy usually left early to get on with work, so he was never part of the sibling banter that ensued.

You had just finished eating and while Aunt Polly was busy clearing the dishes, you thought you could read a little. How wrong you were.

Holding the book out of your reach, the most annoying brother in the world was grinning broadly at you. “I will punch you in the fucking throat…” you threatened. This only made John laugh harder and he threw the book over your head towards Arthur who caught it nimbly. “How about me, little sister,” Arthur said playfully, “Are you going to cut me?” With a sigh you turned around and made another failed attempt at grabbing the book. Arthur threw the book back at John and a little game had started that you had no energy for. Still, you wanted that fucking book. “Forget the book, Y/N,” Ada commented from behind her own book, “Let them have their fun.”

But you were too stubborn for your own good, “I’ll be damned if I let them win…” which gave rise to more laughter from your brothers. So you grabbed the nearest tea towel and threw it in Arthur’s face. Before he could remove it, you pounced and actually felt the book beneath your fingers now. Polly paused her work and watched the scene with interest, partially because it was sweet, in a very Shelby manner, and partially because she wanted to put a stop to it before her kitchen got destroyed. You were so close, but Arthur grabbed you around your waist and managed to get the book back to John. Now you were well and truly stuck. “Right, what now?” he teased in a low voice. “Get the fuck off!” you screamed, when John walked over to you and dangled the book in front of you. Stretching out your arms as much as you could, you could almost reach it. But John, evil as he was, used his other hand to tickle your ribs and you immediately crumpled down in Arthur’s arms. The second brother soon joined in and now you were being attacked by two pairs of hands. You dissolved in a mess of giggles within seconds and there was nothing you could do. Sliding down onto the floor, with very little hope of rescue from your sister or aunt, you were at their mercy completely. And then, like some miracle, Ada intervened. She grabbed John by the collar and pulled him back. You gasped for breath as soon as you could. “She’s had enough, John,” Ada said sternly, “Back off, or you’re next.” Arthur looked down on you with a huge grin on his face, “Ada, we both know she can take much more than that…” “Noo!” you whined and without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you rolled away on your stomach across the kitchen until you bumped into your aunt. “Should’ve punched him in the throat,” she said softly to you. “Don’t be a baby!” John called out, “It’s your own fault.” “How the fuck is it my fault?” you replied indignantly from the floor. “For being so fucking sensitive,” John grinned. Arthur joined in, “That’s right. Just turn it off.” You rolled your eyes almost audibly.

John scoffed and pushed Ada away, “You’re fourteen now, Y/N. Time to learn.”

Polly turned around swiftly, “Oh, like you ever did!”

“What?” your head shot up.

Ada looked at you with a smirk, “What, you thought you were the only one?”

As you got to your feet, Polly helped you up and said meaningfully, “That’s the real family curse, sweetheart.”

Years of them pinning you down and teasing you bubbled up in frustration, “Are you saying that I’ve been going through torture for all these years, thinking that it was just me, when all this time…”

Arthur shrugged, “You’re the youngest and smallest. Comes with the territory.”

“Besides, we’re stronger,” John added smugly. He was right of course, which made it all the more annoying.

Polly threw down the washing cloth and theatrically said, “Welcome to the Shelby family, feared by all in Birmingham and where everyone is ticklish as fuck!” Your entire worldview had been altered in seconds. Apparently this wasn’t news to your siblings, because they all looked completely unimpressed by this bit of information, while you stood there with your mouth hanging open in surprise. After thinking about all of this for a while, you asked, “Even Tommy?” “When we were kids we used to make fun of him,” John recalled with a glint in his eyes, “It’s just his ribs, but if you poke him suddenly, he literally jumps.” “He went absolutely feral,” Arthur nodded. An idea was taking shape in your head, “Would that still work, you think?” “You’ll only get yourself killed,” Ada commented in her usual bored tone of voice. “Do it!” John urged, “Come Ada, you know she’ll get away with it.” You and John had always been the most mischievous in the family and you shared a look with a similar twinkle in your eyes. You finally knew something Tommy didn’t know. This was your one chance to catch Thomas Shelby by surprise. ***

For the next couple of days, you tried to get your brother alone. It was strange, because on the one hand you couldn’t wait to try out your plan. Envisioning how he would react was brilliant already, but the feeling of power you had was even greater. However, you also feared his reaction. Thomas Shelby was a busy man and he had very little time for anyone these days. When he did spend time with you, it was short and it often involved him reprimanding you. In all honesty, you were a little scared of him, but not scared enough to let a prank like this one go to waste. You’d deal with the consequences, whatever they were.

John might’ve been even more excited than you were and whenever Tommy left to go somewhere on his own, he motioned you frantically to follow him. Finding the right time proved almost impossible though. So you decided just to get on with it. This was the day you would find out if your brother shared the family curse. Unfortunately, he’d been in a bad mood all day. He’d called a family meeting at breakfast and had left quickly after that. They’d all reconvene in the evening. Dodging all your other responsibilities, you shadowed Tommy for most of the day, but he had one business meeting after the other. His mood was getting darker and darker, and you began to wonder if you were actually suicidal. But then, unexpectedly, you found yourself alone with him outside. “Y/N,” he said strictly, “Tell me what’s going on.” You’d come outside for some peace, because today was one of the busiest days at the shop and you’d had enough of the noise. Outside, you planned on reading your book and you’d forgotten about Tommy for a minute. Until he had appeared suddenly. “Nothing,” you said, looking up.

“Then why have you been following me all day, eh?” He sounded annoyed almost and all courage left you.

Improvising quickly, you said, “Missed you at dinner last Sunday.” “I was there,” he lit a cigarette and sat down next to you on the stone steps.

“For five whole minutes…”

“There was business to attend to.” “And there’s family to attend to as well,” you replied, without missing a beat. Silently, he side-eyed you and a small smirk played around his lips, “You’re right, I’ll do better next week. Am I forgiven?” “No,” you feigned anger. He turned his head towards you and he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

The bond you had with Tommy was a complicated one. In many ways you were very similar, but the war had changed him the most. Sometimes you felt like you’d lost him completely, when you thought of how you used to talk and laugh with him when you were younger. These moments were so rare now. And these exact thoughts did the trick and you decided that you had to be the one to make that old Tommy come back, if only a little. So you said a silent prayer, decided not to overthink it and poked him in the ribs once. The effect was immediate. Thomas Shelby shot up and nearly rocketed himself off the steps. With a wild look of betrayal he turned his eyes on you and you almost burst out laughing. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked innocently.

He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and sat back down. Apparently, we’re pretending this never happened, you thought.

A few seconds of awkward silence later, you poked him again. This time, a small yelp escaped him. The most feared gangster in Birmingham yelped, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing any longer.

As you were still trying to regain composure, Tommy pointed at you with a menacing finger, “Do that again and you will not live to tell the fucking tale.” You could only snort in reply. He was trying so hard to act all scary and while that had an effect on most people, you just couldn’t be bothered right now: It was too funny. Besides, you thought you could detect just a hint of mirth behind those pale blue eyes and decided to risk everything on just that.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows, “Do it again, I fucking dare you, and see what happens.” So you did it again.

In a flash, he was up and dove for you. But you were faster and jumped out of the way. Like the two of you were a part of a bad play, you started circling each other around the small yard. Neither said a word and seconds felt like hours. Then Arthur called from inside the house, “Tom!”

“You called a family meeting,” you reminded him, while relaxing a little at the prospect of escape.

Tommy’s eyes stayed on you and he cleared his throat again, “Fuck, alright. You’re coming with me.” And he lifted you up and threw you over one shoulder. Your shrieks filled the house as he walked through the betting den, over to the table where the family was already gathered, with you still on his shoulder. Without blinking, the leader of the Peaky Blinders announced, “Right, well you’re all here. Let’s talk business quickly…” Aunt Polly pointed vaguely at your arse, which was sticking up in the air, “You do realise you have my niece in your arms?” “Well aware, Poll,” Tommy continued, like it was the most normal thing in the world, “Business! We’ve done well this week. John’s shown me the books and we’re making more money than ever. Next week, we’re buying a new horse and I’m going to race her.” Flabbergasted, the family stared at Tommy. You could see the million questions on their faces, but they decided to wait until he was done talking. You had also refrained from protesting by now. “Poll, as treasurer I need your permission to buy the horse.” She blinked a few times and mumbled, “Buy the horse. Y/N‘s still…” Tommy held up a hand, “Not finished,” and everyone closed their mouths again, “John, I need you to talk to that old widow down the road. She’s recently lost her son and she should become part of our fund. Arthur, for fucks sake, get the books from the Garrison in order.” “It’s those bloody numbers, Tom…” Arthur grumbled in reply. “Are we all clear on what to do?” Tommy finished off in a hurry. When no one replied, he answered for them, “Good!” With this he plucked you down from his shoulder and held you in his arms bridal style. With a grave and business-like tone he announced, “As you all know, this is Y/N Shelby, youngest member of the family. While we were away in France, she kept the fort and she has often provided us with some relief in times of stress ever since we’ve come back. But not anymore.” John started to get nervous and looked from you to Tommy. Had they gone too far this time? But then he saw Arthur grinning and even Ada had a small smile on her face, so he knew Tommy was only playing. “Gentlemen,” Tommy continued, “This is the day that Y/N Shelby dies. Say goodbye to your sister.”

And that’s when you decided not to await your fate, so you made a sudden movement and jumped out of Tommy’s arms. Dashing past the table, you sought refuge behind Polly’s back.

“Told you this would happen, Y/N,” Ada said, not helping at all.

For some reason, Polly got up and left the room, while stating triumphantly, “The secret’s out, Thomas. Deal with it.” Now you just had an empty chair for protection. Tommy pointed at you directly and practically growled, “And it’s going back in.” With three of the largest steps he was at your side once again.

So you held up your hands, “Okay, wait, I can explain.”

“Too late, little sister,” Tommy said in a low voice, “These are family secrets that are not spoken of.”

“You’re such a drama queen, Tommy,” your sister commented, while getting up to leave. And all you could think was: why would you leave me alone with these mad bastards?

You really should’ve known better but decided to go for the cocky approach, “There’s no point in trying to scare me now, Tommy, knowing what I know.” You raised your eyebrows in an attempt to show him you were still in control. You weren’t. In a flash he’d tackled you to the floor and had you pinned down, while whispering ominously, “You picked the wrong brother to fuck with, Y/N Shelby.”

And for the second time in a week, you cursed your own sensitive skin as dexterous hands attacked your sides. Incapable of little but laughing and screaming, you flailed around hopelessly. Tommy’s face was slowly softening into a smile as well.

“Tommy!” you pleaded between giggles, “It was John, not me!” “Was it now?” he taunted without stilling his fingers, “And who was the fool to listen to his ideas, eh?” He moved up to your ribs, which made the pitch of your laughter increase. “Toohoohoom! Wait!”

Now, it was no secret that your major weakness in life was your sensitivity. Usually it was John who took the most advantage of it, being the mad joker that he was, but he often got Finn or Arthur to join in. Arthur on his own could be absolutely brutal, which was due to his strength as well, so there was no hope for you at all. Ada didn’t bother much, but when she did, she was merciless, much like Polly. But Tommy, he was a whole other story. You didn’t have many moments like this with him anymore, but when he did play and did get his hands on you, it was hell. He knew exactly how to reduce you to a small heap of giggles, pleading for your life and regretting all life choices up to that point. And this was happening right now. His smile was widening and he shook his head, “You thought you could beat me, eh?” “Yeheeeheees,” you admitted. Then he stopped for a second, allowing you to breathe, “Alright, you little devil, I’ll give you one a chance to speak.”

Residual giggles were pouring from your mouth, “Never… listen… to… John.” Tommy looked up at his younger brother who was showing zero remorse on his face, and he nodded slowly, “Good. What else?” “I’ve learned that Thomas Shelby sounds like a girl when…” but you never got to finish that sentence, as he continued his assault.

“Wrong answer. And you are way to ticklish to have an attitude like that, Y/N,” he said calmly.

As he dragged your arms up and dug his hands under your arms, you squeezed your eyes shut, “NOOOO, I’M SOOHOORYYY!” “Are you?” he asked, now smiling broadly at your reaction, “Then tell me what you’ve fucking learned from this, eh?” “YOU DON’T FUCK WITH THE PEAKY BLINDERS!” you managed to shout out between laughs. “That’s right,” Arthur commented, watching the scene while sitting back in his chair, “Finally, she gets it.” Tommy paused and looked at both of his brothers, as if he was waiting for their verdict. “Nah,” John decided to cause more trouble, “I don’t think she has…” Still struggling unsuccessfully to get out of Tommy’s grasp, you shouted, “John, shut your fucking mouth or I swear to God…” Tommy rolled his eyes and interrupted you, “Get her, boys,” he called out, “Let’s teach our sister some respect for her brothers.” So now there were three brothers trying to keep you in place, while you were being tickled from all sides. Why did you listen to John? Why did you not know better than to challenge Tommy? Spluttering, kicking and fighting like crazy, you managed to kick them a little bit at least, but the fact that they were all grinning down on you still meant that it didn’t help much.

Tears leaking out of your eyes, you shrieked, “YOOOUAAHAHAH AHAHAHALL SUAHAHACK!”

Then Tommy stopped them and crossed his arms in front of him. The amusement was twinkling in his eyes, “Had enough?” “Yep,” you said quickly, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Whatever Polly has told you,” he widened his eyes and brought his face close to yours, “Family secrets are not spoken of.” “Fine!” you called out, “They’re not spoken of.” His smile grew again, “Remember this, Y/N. And remember this was nothing compared to what we can do and what I will do, if you ever feel the need to cross Thomas fucking Shelby again.” You got up, again, and brushed yourself off while sending a death-stare to each of your brothers. But when Tommy smiled at you, there was a certain warmth to it that you hadn’t seen in ages.

“Wankers…” you mumbled carefully. Tommy smirked slightly, “You brought this upon yourself, Y/N. Now you know what happens…” “…when you fuck with the Peaky Blinders. Bladibladibla…” you finished his sentence. Making your way to the door, you turned back for a moment, “To be fair, Tommy, I did just saw you jump up about a foot because you’re actually fucking ticklish. So much for the whole gangster act, I should say.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed, John burst out laughing and Arthur managed to shout out a quick “Oi!” And before anyone could react, you sprinted away. Somehow, this still felt like a victory. Sure, you were the youngest and probably the most sensitive in the family, but you had discovered your own weapon now. John would be next, just for setting you up. Arthur would involve more planning. But finding Tommy’s weakness, that was the real triumph. Behind you, you could hear Tommy sit down and sigh, “Well, boys, we’re well and truly fucked now…”

And you grinned to yourself. The game was on.

***

Masterlist

3K notes · View notes

melwilson · 3 years

Text

Good For You - B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: Modern AU. Kinda angsty, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of ptsd, suicide, anxiety

A/N: I wrote this in honor of our beloved Bucky’s birthday (yes, this is a few days late) I also just think it’s important to recognize the struggle that war vets go through on the daily. As someone who had family in the military, it sucks to watch them come home and not know how to live a civilian life. What is portrayed in this imagine is not the life of every vet, but the truth is...most are struggling. They’ve seen and done things that no one should ever have to, but they do it so we as civilians don’t have to and can live freely. veterans deserve the world. be kind.

Torrid. Sweltering. Iraqi heat.

The low rumble of a humvee. Buzzing flies.

Grumbled complaints, laughter following.

Cold steel of a semi-automatic.

Silence.

A high-pitched ringing. Smoke. Panic.

Hot sand. Flashes of light. Pain.

“Sergeant L/n...L/n...Y/n...”

“Y/n, hey. You alright?”

You blinked once. Twice. A third time before you finally came to yourself. A sharp breath passed between your lips, your eyes locking with a pair of warm brown ones. It had been months since your last flashback thanks to your weekly meetings with former Air Force pilot, Sam Wilson. He had approached you at the VA after he spotted you trying to sneak out. Bathroom or an exit strategy, you couldn’t really tell the difference. You had only gone to the meeting because your brother thought it might be good for you to attend one. There was a lot rolling around in your head. There was a burden you were carrying that no one could carry alone. Your brother knew that and if you wouldn’t open up to him maybe you would open up to someone who could relate to you. Months later you were thanking him for pushing you to go because there you had met your best friend and confidant. Sam was a light in your life when you never thought you would see light again. After getting back state side, he took it upon himself to help new war veterans. Though it took you awhile to warm up to him, you were grateful to talk to someone with shared life experience.

“Flashback?” Sam asked, his voice understanding. In the first few months of your meetings, you couldn’t go a day without seeing what had happened. It haunted you and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t outrun it. So you stopped trying. For awhile it felt as if you were drowning. You were too tired and the surface was too far. You were in so deep that there was no sunlight to guide you back. But slowly, your sessions with Sam allowed light to penetrate the surface. Each session allowed the light to go a little deeper guiding you up until you could grab onto Sam’s hand and he could help you up the rest of the way.

“Yeah...but I’m good.” Your voice was firm. Believable. To anyone else they would have moved on and changed the subject. Sam had gotten good at reading you. Your eyes told the story your lips refused to tell. “What were you saying?”

He nodded, shifting in his seat. “There’s a group meeting tonight. You don’t have to talk, but I think you should come. The people there...are good people.”

Your eyes glanced over the brick building that held the stories of many men and women who had been neglected by their country. Men and women who deserved better. You sighed as you pulled open the glass door, the solemn atmosphere hanging over you like a cloud. It didn’t matter that the sun was shining brightly through the windows, the things that were shared were anything but bright and uplifting. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jean jacket, your feet padding softly against the tile floor. The smell of coffee filled your nostrils as you rounded the corner into Sam’s room. He sent you a smile and a wave from where he was standing across the room. You returned the smile before grabbing a styrofoam cup and filling it with the warm liquid. Slowly, the room began to fill with veterans who usually had to fight the war going on in their heads alone. But for two hours, they were able to fight alongside those who understood. Those like you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Sam said, his shoulder brushing your own. He grabbed his own cup, filling it coffee, neglecting cream and sugar.

“I am too.”

You sat silently towards the back the room, listening intently to what was being shared and the bits of wisdom Sam threw out for the taking. He was such an easy-going, caring person. He was easy to talk to, never judged. There was a sincerity in his eyes that deemed him trustworthy. That’s why so many people liked him.

So far only four out of the twelve in attendance had shared. Steve- a tall, blonde, former seal who served six tours located all over the world. He was the physical embodiment of a soldier. You had seen him around the VA and Sam’s place before. He was kind, but his eyes held the weight of one who had seen too much. Tony- a marine whose story surprised you. He was smart and came from a wealthy family. He joined the military because taking over his family’s business didn’t appeal to him. He was quick witted and had a cocky smirk that made everyone roll their eyes. Natasha- A fiery red head who served as a Navy intelligence officer. She now worked in the private security business, but carried around a load of baggage from her days in the military. Clint- Former army sniper who retired after nearly being killed. He decided it was time to throw in the towel before he left his wife a widow and his three kids without a dad.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we have someone new tonight,” Sam mentioned. He held out his hand to a man sitting on the left of Steve. There was a ball cap atop his head, his shoulder length hair tucked behind his ears. He sported a brown jacket on top of a worn, red henley that was much too tight for his frame, dark blue jeans, a pair of black combat boots. “This is James, aka Bucky. It took a lot to get him to agree to show up, so please make him feel welcome. Let’s take a break.”

Soon the room filled with low chatter and Sam’s presence was felt behind you.

“Army vet,” he muttered shortly. “Five tours. He’s been home for a year cooped up in his apartment dealing with his mess. It’s torn him apart. You should go talk to him.”

You turned to him, an eyebrow raised.

“You’d be good for him,” Sam replied. He’d be good for you too.

Before you could object, Sam had pushed you in Bucky’s direction. You turned around, subtly flipping him off before taking a seat next to the brown-haired man. He glanced at you and you offered him a small smile.

“I, um, just wanted to introduce myself,” you said softly. “I’m Y/n.” You extended your hand, which he took hesitantly.

“James,” he muttered back. “Do you come to these often?”

You nodded, pulling your hand back, your fingers grazing over the callouses on James’ palm. “Sam forces me to. I don’t really have a choice.” An airy chuckle passed through your lips. “They help though,” you added, “If that’s what you’re really wanting to ask. I’m not a very open person either. Coming home with no purpose, no orders, and with what was going on inside my head...was detrimental. It’s not overstating things to say that Sam saved my life. I was hesitant to come too, but it was worth it. I’m here.” I’m alive.

He tilted his head up slightly, his eyes bouncing around the room nervously.

“I talked to Sam privately. I don’t feel comfortable talking in front of a group like this.”

“Does it have to be Sam?” He asked. “Like can I maybe talk to you?”

You were taken aback by his question, your eyes widening in surprise. Everyday was an uphill battle to keep your thoughts under control. Trying to help someone else with their trauma was a huge step. A step Sam had been urging you to take. “Me?”

“You don’t have to,” James rushed, “you just seem...nice.”

“No, no, It’s okay, We can grab coffee somewhere, or meet here.”

“What about you’re place?” James suggested.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. That sounds great. How does tomorrow sound?”

It was a five o’clock on the dot when there was a knock on your apartment door. You stood up and rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans. You weren’t sure how Sam was such a natural, but you were already nervous. Opening the door, you were greeted with James. He was basically wearing the same thing as the day before, but instead of a red henley, a dark blue one covered his torso. His right hand was stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, a tight-lipped smile on his face.

“Hi,” you said softly, “Come on in.”

You watched as James’ eyes raked over your apartment. It smelled vaguely of the coffee you had brewed and fresh hardwood. To his left was a panel of windows with a beautiful view of the city. The sun was just overhead sending a stream of light into the room making it naturally warm. It’s homey, he thought to himself. A few picture frames littered the walls, a couple on the tables on either side of the couch. A particularly large picture caught his eye. A wide smile was on your face, your arms thrown around what seemed to be people from your unit. Your skin was kissed by the sun and James was sure he had never seen a more beautiful woman. Even though the photo was a little blurry, he could see the light in your eyes. A light, that looking at you right now, your eyes seemed to lack.

“Can I get you anything?” You asked, noticing how James hadn’t made any movement towards the couch.

“Water is fine.”

You returned from the kitchen with two glasses of ice water. James followed you to the couch where he sat down next to you, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you. This is the second time he had left his apartment in a week. He wasn’t sure the last time he actually had the will to get out of bed.

“We don’t have to deep dive into anything personal today. I know we don’t know each other and I know that this is weird for the both of us. You can ask me a couple of questions if you’d like.”

James sat stiffly on the couch, his knee bouncing slightly. “Where did you serve?”

“Germany, Egypt, Afghanistan. You?”

“Yemen, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Syria, Japan.”

You turned towards him, pulling a knee onto the couch. “Thank you.”

James glanced at you quizzically. “For what?”

“For what you did for this country. I know you don’t get told often enough. None of us do.” There was a sad smile on your face as you made eye contact, James’ blue eyes searching your own. His eyes were beautiful, though they had more darkness than any pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. They told his story and displayed the icy waves that threatened to pull him under.

“I don’t remember the last time someone said that to me,” James said sadly.

“Well, if no one else ever does...I will.”

Over the course of the next few weeks, not much was shared between the two of you. You learned that James wasn’t much of a talker, but he enjoyed listening to you. He enjoyed the comfort and warmth that you brought. Although he didn’t talk much, he was gradually becoming more comfortable around you. He was no longer sitting stiff on the edge of your couch. He knew where the glasses were to get himself water. He even suggested leaving your apartment a few times. You were proud of the progress he was making. It was slow and subtle, but maybe that’s what he needed.

Something was off. James could tell. You were unusually quiet and fidgety. Your usual calm demeanor was replaced with something he couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

“What’s wrong?” he asked after twenty minutes of silence.

Your head snapped up, fingers messing the dog tags around your neck. “Nothing.” Not once had James seen you wear your dog tags or, as a matter of fact, seen anything that related to the army except for pictures.

“It’s an anniversary,” James put together, “You lost someone.”

Naturally, your gaze fell to the picture of your unit on the wall. An overwhelming sadness crept over you, your shoulders slumping, furrowed eyebrows tugging at each other.

“I-“

James cut you off before you could speak. “We don’t have to talk about it. I understand...and if you want to be alone, I understand that too.”

“No,” you shot back, “No, I want to talk about it. I want you to stay...please.” There was a desperation in your voice that you hated and that James had never heard before.

“I’ll stay. I’m here,” he reminded.

You swallowed allowing yourself to feel the emotions you had been trying to push away for a week. “We were in Afghanistan.” A distant look formed in your eyes. “Just a routine drive around the outskirts of the city. We stopped to talk to some the people...the kids would always run up to us because they knew we carried candy. This day we were taking a different route. It was a route traveled by locals so we just assumed it was safe...as safe as it could be for Americans. If we went under fire...there were fourteen of us. We could handle it. I remember having an off feeling about traveling this new route, but you always have an on edge feeling in a place like that. It keeps you aware. I shrugged it off, but I should have known something was wrong when there were no locals on the street that day. Officer Cale had said something undoubtedly hilarious. He was special. He made our time in the desert a little more bearable. He was in the passenger seat, I was behind him. I remember looking out of the window and spotting little patches of disturbed ground. I was going to say something, but it was too late. Our humvee didn’t take the hit...the one in front of us did.” Your voice was shaky, a stray tear rolling down your face. “Ours flipped upside down. I can’t remember what happened in the time of me getting dragged out, but I remember being under heavy fire. It was nine against at least two dozen combatants. We held them off for awhile, but more of them just kept coming. I was shot twice. My thigh and my arm. There was blood...everywhere. I thought I was gonna die that day.

Cale told me that there was a chopper two mikes out from our position. We just had to make it there. We had the advantage being at the top of the hill...so we made a run for it. He carried me most of the way there. We could see the chopper, but then we fell. Um, C-Cale had been hit. Twice in the leg, the other a dead shot.” James let his head fall, a shaky breath falling from his lips. He shifted closer to you, his hand reaching out to wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks. He let his hand fall to your lap, hesitantly intertwining his fingers with yours. You squeezed his palm weekly, thankful for the comfort and something to ground you. “He died trying to save my life and all he has to show for it is a damn purple heart. They had to leave his body and when they went back for it it was gone. Four of us made it out alive, Bucky. Ten of my brothers and sisters died. I got to come home, they gave me a purple heart and silver star, and told me live my life. Hide the trauma, forget what happened. I don’t go a day without thinking about them. And sometimes I wonder if maybe I should have died out there too.”

If you weren’t pouring your heart out to him, Bucky would have relished in the way his nickname rolled off your tongue. Instead, he pulled his hand from your grasp and shrugged off his jacket. You glanced up at him and then down at his left arm. A prosthetic. Not once had you noticed it. “IED. Pakistan. I lost everyone too. My arm...or lack thereof, reminds me of it everyday. Because I was their Sergeant, that guilt has driven me over the edge more than once. If I hadn’t met you two months ago...I don’t think I’d be here right now.” His confession caused you to sob harder and suddenly, you were met with a warm chest and a chin on top of your head. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Y/n. You don’t hear it enough.”

You weren’t sure how long you guys stayed there and you weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but when you woke up you were still on the couch. An arm was wrapped securely around your waist holding you flush against them.

“Sleep good?”

You jumped, your head shooting over to where the sound of a familiar voice was coming from. “What are you doing here?”

Sam chuckled. “You didn’t answer my calls yesterday. I came over this morning and walked in on this.” Bucky shifted, his grip loosening allowing you to sit up and slide off the couch.

“I should have never given you a key,” you muttered. Your brushed past him, moving to start a pot of coffee. You could feel Sam’s heavy gaze on your frame causing you to turn around. “What?”

“Are you alright?” Sam’s voice was low, a hint of worry laced in his eyes.

You nodded your head, your eyes falling to the sleeping man on your couch. It was probably the most at peace you had seen Bucky, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. “Yeah. I’m alright.

You followed Sam over to the door. He was halfway out of the apartment when he asked, “Was I right?” He’d be good for you too.

“Aren’t you always?”

A smile covered his lips, “You deserve to be happy. He does too.”

“I know,” you replied. “Thanks for checking in.”

“Anything for you. Call me later.”

You watched Sam down the hall before the shutting the door trying to stay as quiet as possible.

“Sam invading your space again?”

You turned around, a laugh falling from your lips. “As always.” You watched as Bucky sat up, patting the space next to him. “How’d you sleep?”

“The best I have in a long time,” Bucky answered honestly.

There was a short pause as you thought of what to say next. “Thank you for staying.” You reached out to grab Bucky’s hand giving it a short squeeze.

He brought the back of your hand to his lips before his dropping your tangled hands onto your lap. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

#fatws bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #the winter solider x reader #bucky barnes imagine #the avengers #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fluff

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jdgo51 · 1 year

Text

Oh Come, Let Us Adore Him

Today's inspiration comes from the

NIV Adventure Bible Book of Devotions

Editor’s note: This Christmas, give your kids or grandkids the Bible that is the most recommended by Christian schools and churches! The bestselling Adventure Bible® comes in 5 great translations and dozens of fun colors. Share this devotion with your children today!

Topic: Christmas

Scripture: Matthew 2:11

"They saw the child with His mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped Him. —Matthew 2:11"

Introduction

"'If you saw your very best friend in the school hallway, would you walk right by without saying a word — even if you were in a hurry to get somewhere? Chances are, you wouldn’t. You’d stop for just a moment and say hi or at least smile and wave as you went past. Somehow you’d make a connection. If you had a little more time, you’d hang out with your friend for a while, and the two of you would enjoy just being together. That’s important for a relationship between friends.

It’s also important for your relationship with Jesus. He knows that you have a lot going on, and He understands that you can’t always spend a lot of time with Him. But He wants to make a connection with you each day — not just on Sundays and holidays such as Christmas but all year long!

Today’s devotion is based on Matthew 2:11, which says, “They saw the child with His mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped Him.” The devotion is called “Oh Come, Let Us Adore Him.”

Devotion

“Steven, you’re here!” said Mrs. Anderson. “Hurry and get dressed.” On Christmas Eve Mrs. Anderson was directing the live nativity scene at the Christian school Steven attended.

“Sorry I’m late,” Steven said, rushing to put on his shepherd’s robe. “I had to run errands with my mom before she dropped me off.” He grabbed his staff, ran outside, and took his place next to the stable. Joseph, Mary, and the angels were already in position. So were the animals. People started arriving to see the display. Steven tried to look worshipful, but he was flustered. Besides, he was cold, and the sheep kept biting his robe. Steven sighed. He’d thought this would be fun. And meaningful, like being at the first Christmas. After all, he really did love Jesus.

The angels began to sing. Staring at the manger, Steven started thinking about everything Jesus meant to him. Soon he truly was worshiping his Lord and Savior.

Everyone’s busy nowadays — even kids! Take a moment every day to worship Jesus, no matter how busy you are. He is God’s Son, who came to save the world. He deserves to be praised. You can celebrate Jesus’ birth all year long by coming to Him daily and giving Him your love.

Come, let us bow down in worship.

Words to Treasure

Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord. — Psalm 95:6

Questions

What are some reasons why people fail to connect with and worship Jesus every day, however briefly — even if they really want to and know it’s very important?

What could you do to make sure you connect with Jesus for at least a little while each day? Spend some time brainstorming to come up with a list.

Are there some things in your life — some possessions or activities, perhaps — that might be getting in the way of your relationship with Jesus? Have you ever thought about getting rid of one or more of these in order to give yourself time to connect with Jesus and worship Him for a little while each day?

Why is practicing a spiritual discipline — like reading your Bible every morning, praying at the same time every evening, or keeping a journal about your spiritual journey — a good way to maintain your relationship with Jesus? Do you practice any spiritual disciplines like that? If you do, how do they help you connect with Jesus?

What is the one thing that will destroy your desire to connect with Jesus each day, and what can you do about it?

Answer: Sin will always interfere with your relationship with Jesus. But if you confess it and repent of it, you’ll rediscover your passion to draw near to Jesus and worship Him."'

Consider spending some time playing a game or doing an exercise to help children memorize the “Words to Treasure” Scripture verse.

Material taken from the NIV Adventure Bible Book of Devotions.

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haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4

⚠WARNING: Swearing, mention of previous characters' deaths

• ────── ✾ ────── •

“I just don’t get why no one wants to help me plan the shrine visit and picnic lunch.” Oikawa pushes his now-empty plate away and turns his head. You share a look with Makki and Mattsun.

“We just don’t want to get in the way of your vision.” Mattsun replies. “You’re the most creative of us all and we don’t want to bog you down.”

Oikawa only glances towards Mattsun before glancing at you and Makki. You both put on your most sincere faces, hoping to placate your irritated friend. It seems to do the trick, as he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Well of course I’m the most creative. I guess I can plan everything and tell you all what to do.”

You smile at Oikawa, nodding. “That sounds good.” You enjoy the last bit of your dinner, keeping your eyes on your plate.

Since Hajime’s passing, there’s been a visible gap in your friend group. It’s not a gap that can easily be replaced or filled, but the balance of your group has been thrown way off course.

Makki and Mattsun try to lighten things up with jokes but most of the time they fall flat. And it’s not fair to always depend on them to keep the mood light when they can’t muster the energy to do it.

Most of the time you’ve remained silent on the outings. You’ll laugh at the jokes from Makki and ask everyone about their days, but nine times out of ten you’re hindered by the absence of Hajime to make meaningful conversation.

Surprisingly, the most consistent of your friends is Oikawa. But since there’s no Iwa-chan to reign him in, he has become the leader of your group - making plans, driving conversation and trying to keep your group from falling apart. The only problem is that Oikawa has utilized more...forceful tactics to get what he wants.

“For lunch tomorrow we’ll have to meet somewhere by the gym because I have training in the afternoon.” Oikawa states later, while everyone is leaving the restaurant. “And we have to get salads or something similar, I can’t eat anything heavy before.”

You send a quick glance to Mattsun, pleased to see Makki holding his boyfriend’s hand tightly. Of everyone Mattsun is the one who snaps back against Oikawa the most, unwilling to deal with his antics. Makki is the best at keeping him calm while you would try to keep Oikawa from escalating the issue.

“Oh, I can’t meet tomorrow, sorry. I’m getting lunch with my friend.”

Your friends all give you questioning looks - Makki and Mattsun look more excited (and ready to tease you if necessary.) But Oikawa narrows his eyes.

“Is this the same friend you ditched us for lunch yesterday and today?” His tone is accusatory and you inwardly sigh. So it’s going to be this kind of night.

“Yes.” You don’t want to beat around the bush but you don’t want to antagonize your friend with smart-ass answers. “He wanted to get lunch again so I agreed, I wouldn’t if we were planning on getting lunch.”

Oikawa scoffs. “You should always plan on getting lunch with us, Y/N.”

“Oikawa I think you’re skipping over an important detail.” Makki steps in, inadvertently stopping Oikawa from going off on you. But before you can relax he turns to you with a shit-eating grin. “You’re meeting with a guy?”

Shit.

Mattsun appears over Makki’s shoulder, giving a similar smirk. “Please elaborate, Y/N-chan. Who are you meeting with?”

“And when can we expect an introduction?”

You give Makki an annoyed look at his extra question. “His name is Osamu, and we worked on a project together for one of our classes. We worked well together so we decided to get lunch. It’s no big deal.” Your last sentence is directed to Makki and Mattsun, both waggling their eyebrows.

Despite their childish behavior you’d take it every day over Oikawa’s snide attitude.

“Osamu, huh?” Oikawa looks down at you with his head tilted to the side questionably. “How come this is the first we’ve heard about him?”

You shrug. “It’s no big deal, Oikawa. Don’t be a jerk.”

“Hey I’m just wondering why you never wanted to tell us about him.” He held his hands up innocently. “Are you keeping other secrets from us perhaps?”

You feel your eyes narrow and you can’t help but let a little venom into your words. “I’m not keeping secrets, Oikawa. Osamu and I worked on a project together, he found out about Hajime and I found out that he lost his twin brother, so maybe I’ve found another friend who I can relate to.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen marginally at the mention of Hajime and he doesn’t reply. His hands lower and he looks off to the side. You see Makki and Mattsun stiffen before Mattsun steps closer to his boyfriend.

It’s no wonder that people tell you not to joke about death or dying. It’s easy for people who haven’t understood how devastating the loss of a loved one is to make those simple jokes, because they’ve never experienced the instant the mood of a group plummets. It’s a powerful weapon, made to bring the strongest down a few notches. It’s one you wouldn’t ever use unless absolutely necessary, and even this time mentioning how you and Osamu were able to bond over your shared trauma was a slip made out of anger. But it was effective in shutting Oikawa up.

“Oh.” Makki says into the stifling silence. Oikawa still hasn’t looked away from the ground and now you feel guilty again for bringing the mood down. Twice in two days is not a record you wanted to make. Makki speaks up again. “That’s so sad, how did you find out about that?”

Here is where you hesitate, because you can’t say that you were texting Hajime’s old phone number and serendipitously the stranger receiving those messages not only is a student at the same university you attend but also lost someone close to him, and you agreed to meet with him for coffee after five minutes of your “meeting.”

“I think it just came up organically,” you reply, hoping you sound somewhat nonchalant with your fabricated explanation. “I don’t really remember the conversation exactly.”

“Huh.” Mattsun says. “Well if you guys are going to hang out more maybe see if he wants to come to our group therapy sessions. The next one’s in a few days.”

At this Oikawa whips his head up and glares at Mattsun. He doesn’t say anything in response to Mattsun’s suggestion but he looks livid. Mattsun in turn meets Oikawa glare with his signature, unaffected gaze.

“Okay, we’re gonna head out now.” Makki grabs his boyfriend’s arm and steers him towards their apartment. “Oikawa, we’ll text you about lunch tomorrow. Y/N, I want all the details from your ~date~”

“It’s not a date!” You call, but Makki doesn’t reply save for a little hand wiggle he sends over his shoulder. You sigh out loud and shake your head at your friends’ antics.

You turn to your silent companion, who has taken to glaring at the ground again. “Are you ready to leave?” He doesn’t answer you, not even nodding in agreement, but he stands straight and you both move together towards your apartment buildings.

Oikawa speaks up after a few blocks of walking in silence. “Did Osamu really lose his brother?”

“Excuse me?” You turn to your friend, appalled at such a question. “Are you really fucking asking if he was lying?”

“I’m just looking out for you.” Oikawa doesn’t meet your angry gaze but his voice has lost its disapproving tone. “Some idiots will lie to get sympathy or try to connect and get closer to you. It’s fucked up.”

Still feeling aggravated you turn forward and roll your shoulders. “I guess. But you didn’t see him. You’d have to be blind to take one look and think he’s okay.” His tired face pops into your head again, the look of a person just trying to scrap by one day at a time. It hurts to think about.

“Do you like him?”

You turn back to your friend, angry again, to see him giving you a calculated look. There’s something else there too, almost something like indignant hurt.

You know why he’s looking at you like that and it makes something in your stomach twist.

Oikawa is the only other person to know of your love for Hajime. He pried it from you years ago but had sworn on his own hair products that he wouldn’t tell a soul. In spite of Oikawa’s general obnoxiousness and seemingly fictitiousness, deep down he’s a very loyal friend. And even though he knew one of your deepest secrets, you knew it was safe with him.

But he badgered you for days on end to confess to Hajime and every time you told him no. He was annoyingly persistent, but not once did he say well what now? after Hajime passed.

You missed that annoying weirdo. You don’t like the possessive, mean and cruel Oikawa that’s taken his place.

“I don’t like him like that, Oikawa.” You say now, turning back ahead first this time. “He’s just a friend.”

You feel Oikawa’s gaze on you still but you don’t look back. He doesn’t say another word to you, save for a short remark when you leave to go into your apartment building.

“Have fun on your date tomorrow.”

He drops that line and walks away, leaving you to stare after your friend with your gut twisting.

Why does he have to do this?

Insecurity, jealousy, anger, depression - maybe a mix of all four and more. It’s partly why you’re giving him a pass for now.

Your phone pings when you get into your apartment, and you feel the tension from the day leave your body when you lock the door. You feel wrung out and you honestly just want to sink to the floor and just lay there.

Before you give into your urge to become one with the floor you pull your phone out to see who texted you.

If it’s Oikawa I’m going to flush my phone down the toilet.

But you’re pleasantly surprised to read the screen and not see it was Oikawa who messaged you. You unlock your phone to read the text, feel a smile tug at your lips and send a reply back.

Glancing down at the floor, it suddenly doesn’t look as appealing as it did before. You walk through the apartment, heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: And we get a bit more of a glimpse into Y/N's friend group, and the dynamic is.......not ideal. Hopefully the friends can work through their problems and help each other......anyway, thank you for reading!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito

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saturnsummer · 3 years

Text

the fairytale she never had (will you believe again?)

when sol is invited to a wedding, sol doesn’t think her best friend would follow her.

aka: solhwi attending a wedding

notes: it just struck me one day, and i really wanted them to see each other outside of the law school moments! while law school defines them, they are certainly people with social activities.

i adapted this from a similar prompt i saw from a fic many years ago for a separate fandom, and i always wanted to write something similar. this was honestly not met to be multi-part, but i write too much anyways. so multi-part it will be.

also, it might sound depressing in the initial part where sol is talking about the wedding invitation, but it gets explained later on.

as always, enjoy! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me!

ao3 link

words: 4135 words

I: 我愿变成童话里, 你爱的那个天使 (i am willing to be the angel of that fairytale you love)

--title inspired by fairytale (童话) by Michael Wong!--

Sol absolutely hates weddings.

She hated the big social crowds, the way drunk men in tuxedos staggered around with women in one arm and a drink in another. She found no purpose in dressing in lavish gowns, then eating dinner for the next two hours without even feeling full.

Sol couldn’t blame anyone but herself for this. She can’t help but remember her mother’s failed marriages. The way her biological father left them in the middle of the night, with all their hard earned savings. The way her stepfather, Byeol’s father, would come home drunk and violent towards her mother. It was a memory she couldn’t erase. More than a decade later, she still wakes up in a cold sweat, worrying for her mother and small Byeol’s life.

She long ago gave up on the concept of love back then. She wasn’t opposed to anyone dating or talking about it, and she certainly didn’t mind short flings. But marriage? Eternal love? The fairytale that everyone hopes to achieve? Sol threw those ideas out of the window.

So when Sol received a thick, cream-coloured card and envelope, embossed with rose gold foil and flowers, a pretty silver wax seal and her name written in careful strokes of a calligraphy brush, she was stumped.

Her friend, Im Jiyoon, was getting married. Jiyoon was a good friend of Sol’s, and they occasionally met up for quick meals. Jiyoon was an accountant and climbing the ranks in her company. They lost contact for a period when Sol was in juvie, but they reconnected when Sol was just starting law school. It was only polite that Jiyoon extended invitations to her high school classmate.

Sol had mixed feelings. The wedding was on a Friday night, which made things good since she didn’t have to wake up early, fitting her schedule properly. But she had nothing to wear. She could borrow a dress and shoes from Yeseul, but the last time she borrowed a shoe from Yeseul, she almost broke her ankle. And she had so much work to catch up on. Yet, not showing up felt rude of her.

Jiyoon was nice, don’t get her wrong. She was smart, resourceful and lovely to be with in high school. Sol wanted nothing more than for her high school friend to marry the love of her life. But she hasn't been to such social events in years, and being so focussed on school, the legal clinic and contributing to her family, she found it difficult to understand why she needed to go, besides doing it out of courtesy.

“What’s that?” A familiar voice pipes from behind, drawing her out of her thoughts. There’s the familiar shuffling of several pairs of feet as Sol turns her attention to the one who spoke. Behind her, was Han Joon Hwi with his bag just being set on the table. The rest of the group was just settling in for another study session.

“Ah, nothing important.” She monotonously says before sliding the card in her files. Joon Hwi’s hands catch the card before she can slide it fully and stop her from hiding it from him, or the rest of the group. The rest draw their attention to the expensive card and Sol only stays silent.

“A wedding? Your friend’s?” Yeseul asks as she picks the card up with perfectly manicured fingers. Turning and feeling the thick paper between her fingers, Yeseul knew it was no cheap manufactured paper. This was expensive, premium, and each card looked handmade from the brush calligraphy.

“Yeah. But I don’t think I’m going.” Sol says as Yeseul returns her the card and successfully stores it away in her bag.

“Why not? Don’t you want to be there?” Joon Hwi asks, cocking his head to the side in utter confusion.

“There isn’t much point, is there? I have school and the legal clinic and things to revise for. And besides, I don't have anything to attend in. I just rather send her a gift and treat her a meal.” Sol simply explains. Everyone bombards her with more questions, but she diverts their attention to her paper and the cases they are reviewing today.

Joon Hwi, however, couldn’t get Sol’s reasoning out of his head. He knew Sol well enough to know how much she values her friends, and that she would be willing to drop everything for a friend. Her loyalty was unmatched. It didn’t make sense that she would be held back by her vanity or school work that caused her to not attend such a joyous occasion.

When everyone is done reviewing the cases and the session ends, Sol is the only one who has her books and papers still scattered all over the table. She still has to review her notes and catch up on a few lectures before she can officially end her day. Joon Hwi was long done, but he stayed put, bringing out a past report he’s done and glancing through it, hopeful to catch any mistakes. The others have headed back or gone to the cafeteria for a meal.

“Han Joon Hwi, you don’t have to stay for me, you know?” Sol says, her eyes not once looking up as she stays concentrated highlighting her book with a fluorescent orange highlight. She sticks it in her hair when she’s done, raising her head to meet Joon Hwi’s eyes. Joon Hwi only smiles, letting his eyes crinkle.

“Why don’t you want to attend the wedding?” Joon Hwi asks, still smiling. Sol scoffs.

“I already said. I’m too busy-” Sol is cut off by Joon Hwi with his teasing.

“You sure? I think it’s about the groom, though.” Joon Hwi smiles brightly, earning an irritated series of clicks of her tongue from Sol, clearly successful in being teased.

“None of that sort! Who do you think I am, Han Joon Hwi?” Sol rebuts back, throwing her eraser across to him in annoyance.

Joon Hwi catches it with a laugh, but doesn’t lose eye contact with Sol. A few moments of silence follow, as she looks at the file with the card. Slowly, she draws the card from her file, holding it carefully between her fingers.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be there. I… it’s my first time going to such a social event in such a long time. And the last time I met Jiyoon was a year ago, back in our 1L.” She says softly, letting her fingers brush her calligraphed name.

“I just… rather not go, you know? Treat her to a nice meal somewhere, maybe a couple drinks. Besides, I’m sure she’s just doing it out of courtesy.” She lets out a light laugh.

Joon Hwi’s heart softens. He’s witnessed Sol in her different elements. The courtroom, where she’s a powerful woman in command, dressed professionally in a suit and hair in a perfect ponytail. The day-to-day her, where she’s comfortably dressed in jeans and her tanned coat, hair in a bun and post it notes on her jacket. She was always so bold, so confident and so full of fire. It never occurred to him that she would be uncomfortable in social events. She was always the life during dinners, with Bokgi. She laughed loudly, engaged in conversations and seemed so comfortable. He remembers how she would help out the old halmeonis with her neighbourhood on some days when he sent her home, or the times she bought ice creams for Byeol’s classmates. She seemed so extroverted, yet so closed off. Eying her, Joon Hwi reaches out and clasps his hand over hers in an attempt to comfort.

“I never went to school events, you know? Especially since juvie made me miss it. When I redid my high school year, I didn’t go too. There wasn’t much of a point, since I didn’t have a date or many friends to begin with. If it was Dan, she would have gone, being the popular girl she was back then.” Sol softly says, a small smile ghosting her face.

She remembers the day prom arrived for her school. She was expectant, hoping that the boy she liked would invite her. Or maybe the girls that she occasionally had lunch with will invite her to hang out. But all she got was a stone cold silence the weeks leading up to prom. When everyone buzzed on what they were wearing to prom night, she silently put on her headphones, drilling herself into her science assignments. Of course, she wouldn’t be invited.

She knew the rumours floating in school. How Dan was the perfect one, how she was the failed one. She knew everyone knew she went to juvie. She knows how the boys snicker at her when she walks past them, or how the girls gossip and whisper when she’s eating her lunch. Besides, it didn't help that she was poor. She can’t even afford a dress of her own, let alone go to the event.

Realising what she’s said, Sol quickly draws her hand away along with the card and slots it away in her file.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to blabber on. You must think it’s stupid, I think so too. Anyways, do you have the notes Professor Kim...” Sol quickly apologises and diverts her attention to her notes. But Joon Hwi was no longer listening. He was shattered by how the woman sitting in front of him has never been treated like how she should be treated. It was no secret to Joon Hwi that he cared for his friends, but cared a little more for Sol. He was the one that left post-it notes on her table and pretended he didn't. She was the only one that he would let steal a mouth or two from his ramyeon. He could read her moods just from her eyes. He wonders sometimes, if he sees her more than a friend.

He won’t hide that she’s beautiful. The way her eyes slant in an elegant fashion, her smooth, slightly tanned skin, and her winning smile that he always found his heart beating faster for. He loves the way she smiles at her extra pickles, the way her eyes light up when she sees Byeol, or the way she argues and practices. The tenacity and desire she has to improve inspires him to work as hard as her.

This is why when Sol spilled the beans, he couldn't help but feel all sorts of emotions. Anger, towards the people in her school, for not realising such a wonderful student. Anger towards her for degrading herself. Sadness, for her not being able to experience such events.

As Joon Hwi ended the session with her and returned to his room, he made a promise to Sol. He’s convinced it will work, and he begins planning in his head.

He will show her the fairytale.

-----

A week passed.

Sol had to give a reply in a few days and she has not figured out what to say. The wedding was in a month. She knew Jiyoon would be busy... Sol figures that she should just treat Jiyoon after her honeymoon, knowing how she would be away with her husband as newlyweds later on.

“Still thinking about the wedding?” Joon Hwi nods at her, her head in her hands. Sol, looking defeated, nods. So much for trying to hide. They were at their pantry area of their dorms, Sol stirring her ramyeon, as Joon Hwi slurps his. It was 3am, and they just finished studying. The next day was a weekend, so it didn’t really matter if they slept late, since they got the privilege of sleeping in.

“What do I tell Jiyoon? I don’t want to sound rude.” Sol mumbles, lazily stirring her soggy noodles.

“Go to the wedding.” Joon Hwi says suddenly, continuously slurping.

“What?!”

“Sol, how many weddings can you even go to in your life? Are you sure you want to miss this one? Besides, you said you haven’t been to social events. Don’t you want to experience it?” Joon Hwi says, adrenaline building in his voice.

Sol falls silent. She can’t deny that she wants to experience the feeling of being dolled up, the fun that everyone talks about, and the enjoyment that everyone goes through. And Joon Hwi is right; she wants to celebrate with Jiyoon. But her fear of social events and the past was holding her back.

Joon Hwi could tell the change in her eyes. He gives a sweet smile, knowing that he said enough to change her mind.

“Joon Hwi, but what if she doesn’t even-” Sol begins doubting herself as she shoots off her doubts and worries. Joon Hwi calms her down with logical reasons, calming her nerves in between his mouths of ramyeon.

“But... I’ll be alone there, right?” Sol asks, her voice so soft, Joon Hwi barely picks it up. Her ramyeon is still untouched, and the noodles have gotten soggy and cold. Sol is silent for a moment, as she realises how right she is, for once. It wasn’t like she could ask a date, she doesn’t even have one. And her friends from the study group were out of the question. They don’t even know Jiyoon. Joon Hwi quickly brings up his bowl to his face, hopefully covering it as he feels the heat rising to his face.

“I’ll be your plus-one.”

Sol’s eyes light up and her head rises. Did she hear that right? Han Joon Hwi, her plus-one?

“Oh, no! No, I didn’t mean it like that! Joon Hwi, no, I can’t-” Sol can’t find the right words to say. He can't? He shouldn’t? He doesn't need to? Sol can’t deduce her own reasonings for this argument. She knows her roommate likes him, and she definitely doesn’t want to be the target of her roommate’s stares if she catches wind of this. Besides, Joon Hwi doesn’t like her. She knows, and she doesn’t want him to get any wrong ideas. He’s her best friend, and confidante. She knows, deep down, his heart is someone else's.

“I want to.”

Sol freezes as Joon Hwi finishes drinking his soup. Placing the bowl down, he does as best as he can to lock eyes with Sol seriously, showing her he wasn’t teasing. No, this was out of his sincere heart. He knows how nervous she gets in a new environment, and him being next to her was bound to calm her nerves just a little more.

Sol could see the genuine care and want in his eyes. She knows this isn’t one of his jokes or teases. For a split second, she catches herself thinking if he meant something more. That going as a date, was more than just keeping her company, but for something to develop…

Her face is flushed red as she looks at her puffed noodles and lukewarm soup. She picks her chopsticks up but is stopped by Joon Hwi’s hand as he shifts the bowl toward him, away from her.

“Get yourself a fresh one. This is the first meal all day, isn’t it?” Joon Hwi calls her out, covering her noodles. Sol wants to argue for her soggy noodles, but she falls silent knowing how he revealed her secret. She hasn’t eaten all day after running reports and studying. Grumbling, she does as instructed and boils another bowl of ramyeon. When she’s back at the table with a fresh, hot, spicy and red bowl, she dives into it, wondering how she managed to survive the whole day.

Joon Hwi only gives a small smile looking at the girl slurping her noodles with delight and looking at her. Joon Hwi wasn’t lying. He did want to be her plus-one for the wedding. He knew that more than just being a comfort for Sol, he wanted to make this one day a day she could look back and smile at. That she could be pretty, relaxed and happy instead of stressing over her grades, exams and family.

“Fine.” Sol says as she continues slurping the spicy noodles. She blesses the spiciness of the noodles, such that she could blame her pink blush on it. Joon Hwi, clearing the cold noodles and getting water for both of them tilts his head in confusion.

“Come with me to the wedding, if you want to.” She mutters softly, almost shy to let him know. To hide her blush and hide her confusion, she lifts the still hot bowl to her face. She drinks the soup, but chokes on the spiciness. Joon Hwi lets out a light chuckle before passing her a bottle of cold water. Sol looks at him with narrowed eyes of annoyance, but graciously takes the water.

As he watches Sol eat her first bowl, then a second, as Joon Hwi munches on some crackers, he only smiles and laughs at whatever Sol was complaining about her reports and her frustrations at her cases that she picked. He lets out comforting words, but is rebutted back with Sol saying he will never get it because he’s smart unlike her.

As he went to bed that night, he only gave a giddy smile, burying his face in his sheets. He scored his point of taking Sol out on a date, and was already counting down. He officially succeeded in the first step of his plan.

The rest of it required a little bit of help. But he knew who to ask.

-----

“Yeseul! What is it that you need to wake me up on a weekend? I was up until 4am last night!” Sol grumbles as she places her phone on speaker, rubbing her eyes. It was 8am, way too early for Sol to process any emergencies. Well, if it was Yeseul, she would do it any time.

“Sorry, unnie. But it’s urgent. Could you meet me in 10 minutes at the lobby?” Yeseul’s bright voice echos. Sol notices her roomie’s bed made, pillows nicely fluffed and sheets tucked in neatly in pure perfection. She isn’t surprised, considering how she gets up early anyways.

“Fine.” Sol says and hangs up, getting a fresh change of clothes and heading to the bathroom to wash up. She throws on a hoodie, grabbing her only tanned ochre coat and grabs her bag, before jogging downstairs to the lobby. There, Yeseul is standing there, with a sling black bag and with one of the many nude heels she has, hair styled to perfection.

“Unnie!” Yeseul waves her hand over. Walking closer, Sol notices two other familiar friends behind as she scoffs.

“Joonhwi? Bokgi? What are you doing here?” She asks, her hand playing with the strap of her bag unconsciously. She was surprised to see Joonhwi, but even more Bokgi, who usually spends mornings sleeping in. Joonhwi only gives his usual cheeky smile and drags a drowsy Bokgi with him out towards to the main entrance of the school. Dumbfounded, Yeseul takes this moment to link her arm with Sol’s as she leads her out and catch Sol up to their agenda today.

“What?! You’re bringing me where?” Sol exclaims, her voice echoing throughout the lobby. Yeseul shushes her as she drags a shocked Sol out of school. Yeseul didn't need the whole school to know where Sol was going.

“Unnie, please? You need a dress for the wedding, and don’t think you are going to go in one of mine or your old ones! Besides, you promised to go shopping with me one day, right?” Yeseul defends herself as Sol sighs.

Yeseul wasn’t wrong. The wedding was just a week away and she had absolutely nothing to wear. She owned a couple pairs of flats, but they were so old, it would be embarrassing to attend with those. And her dresses were either too big or too small. She was so caught up with school after submitting her reply to Jiyoon, that she would have forgotten about the wedding if it wasn’t for the post-it on her bedside wall.

“But...but...” Sol couldn’t find any reasons to counter. She knew Yeseul was right. Besides, it’s a weekend. And they had no upcoming tests or projects, so there was no harm in doing something besides studying in the copy room. She nods, defeated, earning a smile from Yeseul.

“Wait, then why is Joonhwi and- Who’s car is that?!” Sol’s thoughts are cut off when she sees a familiar black sedan waiting by the entrance as Sol and Yeseul just exit. In the car, she manages to see a Joonhwi in the driver’s seat and Bokgi riding shotgun.

“Yah! Han Joon Hwi! Isn’t this my roomie’s car?” She shouts as she strides a couple of steps when Joonhwi rolls the window down.

“She loaned me the car for today. Don’t want you carrying so many things back from shopping today.” He replies curtly. Bokgi opens his passenger side door on the right.

“Bokgi-”

“Noona, sit in front. I’m too tired to watch Joonhwi-hyung drive.” Bokgi mutters before he climbs into the backseat with Yeseul. Sol wordlessly settles into the seat next to Joonhwi, who only looks at her with a smile. Sol catches his odd looks and pauses.

“What?”

“Ready for shopping?” He has his cheeky smile on again. Sol glares in annoyance before turning behind to Yeseul.

“Did you make him drive?” Yeseul shakes her head and spills out her defensive explanation.

“Oppa called me up yesterday! He just said he needed my help to accompany you shopping for a dress!”

“Then, why is Bokgi here? Trying on dresses too?”

“Noona! I’m listening!” Joonhwi only laughs and shakes his head.

“He’s just accompanying me.” Joonhwi says as he begins to drive off.

Well, Joonhwi wasn't lying. He waited till their quizzes and projects were over before executing this. He knew Sol was busy, and had waited for the busy season to pass before calling Yeseul. He explained that he knew Sol would not go shop for a dress, and he needs her help to accompany him and her. She willingly, too willingly, agreed.

Next, he asked Sol B if he could borrow her car, knowing how Sol was not going to go home with just one dress and one pair of shoes when Yeseul was involved. Sol B was skeptical, but just passed the keys over to him. Besides, she was going to be in school studying all day; she didn’t need the car. Bokgi joined in, as Joonhwi couldn’t spend hours on end waiting for the ladies to shop. On further thought, Bokgi just might help him out with something.

“I could go myself with Yeseul. You didn’t have to wake up for this.” Sol mutters just loud enough for him to hear, fiddling with her fingers. Joonhwi returns with a light scoff.

“As if you’ll do it.” Sol glares at him from the side and is ready to punch him, but retracts her hand, knowing she might literally kill everyone in the car. The ride from the school to the bustling heart of Seoul is a rough twenty minute ride. Bokgi takes this time to catch a wink and Sol does the same, but she can't seem to do it.

Something about Joonhwi bringing her out to buy a dress specially made her heart flutter a bit more than usual. She knew that Joonhwi cared for her. The ways that he left rolls of gimbaps and energy drinks as opposed to coffee on her table during her tough days. The moments when he would offer his jacket as a pillow wordlessly when she wanted to rest her head after hours of studying. The unspoken synchronisation between them was just a showing of how they understood each other inside and out.

Sol thought nothing of it. She knew him as long as she stepped into school when he saved her from Professor Yang. They spent almost everyday studying, having classes and eating together. After all, they are best friends, and don’t best friends do this? They look out for each other, right?

He is going to be my plus-one at Jiyoon’s wedding. He’s taking me to shop for a dress.

Sol wonders, truly for the car ride as she stares outside at the blue skies and empty streets of Seoul, if Han Joonhwi meant more than friends to her. If… she wanted more.

Deep down, she couldn’t deny hoping for more. She liked the way he looked at her, eyes crinkled and smiling in half moons, the sweet smile that she couldn’t help but return. She has never had many relationships, considering her experience in school and afterwards. She was just too busy; too focussed. Seeing how this man cared for her just made her feel so… special.

She has never felt that way.

#original by akinosakiya #jtbc law school #law school #jtbc drama #jtbc #joonsola #kang sol a #kang sol a x han joon hwi #solhwi #han joon hwi #netflix #kdrama #wedding #ryu hye young #kim beom #kim bum

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