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sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

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𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔰 (𝔪)

❥oikawa tōru x fem!reader

❥summary: your new husband, oikawa toru, is the epitome of hell

❥warnings: forced marriage + abusive parents, forced isolation, yandere-ish and controlling behaviour, emotional abuse, dubcon/noncon, ill-prepped sex + blood, sacrilege, breeding kink + babytrapping *if i have missed any please let me know!!!!!

❥word count: 3.2k

your funeral dress is your wedding dress. a white gown that should be black, a bouquet of bright flowers that should be wilted roses, the knife slicing into the cake that should be cutting right through your heart and a forced watery smile and happy tears that should be mourning sobs as you feel every last fighting part of your soul collapse.

you should’ve known it was coming. it’d been your reality for months leading up to it, coming to terms with the darkness enclosing in on you. the first time you saw his face it was a photograph on your mother’s phone, a little smile on her face.

“this is him. isn’t he handsome? you’re a lucky one.” you can’t deny that he isn’t. tall with an athletic build, warm brown eyes and silky hair, skin bronzed from the Argentinian sun. he was supposed to be every girl’s dream- a star volleyball player with a luxurious home, paparazzi and journalists clinging to his every word, sponsorships and photoshoots and a charming character everyone glorifies.

but not you. maybe it was his superficial smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes or the heavy instinctual twinge that settled in you when you stared at his face, but you didn’t like this man. the very sight of him made your stomach turn and as you turned to your parents with pleading eyes, you begged. anyone. anyone else- you didn’t care about money, about their job, about them but as long as it wasn’t this man sending shivers down your spine. but they refused. badly. angry snarls and bitter words burned in your ear, heavy threats and viciousness that you were really left with no choice. the only thing you could do was hold back your stinging tears as you forced yourself to read sports magazines and articles till your teary eyes were sore and bloodshot, trying to pretend that you could love this man. that you could force a lifelong commitment of marriage, be his wife. the woman he’d lie in bed with at night, the one he woke up with, the one he was going to be intimate with but also show to the world. he was the man whose kids you’d be forced to bear, who you’d be bound to for life.

the first time you meet him is on your wedding day. oikawa tōru.

he’s the perfect charm, but in between the ceremony, the speeches and the dance you don’t get to speak to him alone till you’re in the hotel room. your wedding gown is stiff, the corset cinching your waist till it’s painful, the lace sleeves beginning to itch and a thick lump resides in your dry throat as you settle at the end of the bed. how superficial is this glorious honeymoon suite of a luxurious hotel with the baskets of fruit and chocolate, the complementary champagne with the congratulatory greetings card. all fake. all a facade concocted by your parents and oikawa- and how he’s able to smile at you so sweetly as he loosens the tie of his tuxedo, like none of this is wrong, utterly confuses you.

“you must be tired.” his smile is all wrong, even the little crinkle in his eyes, his saccharine voice. it makes your blood run cold and you want nothing more than to curl up in on yourself, to get away from him as much as possible. but you can’t. he’d find you, or your parents would find you and drag you back. there’d be nowhere to go. no escape. “would you like me to help you undress?” he steps forward but stops suddenly when you raise your hands in protest, a look of surprise etching on his face.

“i can undress in the bathroom.” is all you say as you walk across to the hotel suite away from him.

you inhale sharply, locking the bathroom door and pressing yourself against it, wishing there was more than two inches of wood separating you and that man you’re forced to call your husband. shivers run down your spine as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. y/n oikawa. you’re his now. you stare at the unfamiliar figure until tears blur your vision too much and you can’t see yourself anymore.

you stop in the doorway when you return to the main suite, your throat growing dry as you stare at oikawa lying on the bed. he beams at you, eyes sparkling as he takes in your figure and you’re suddenly feeling too exposed in the silk nightdress your mother prepared.

“come on,” he smiles, winking cheekily as he pats the space next to him. “i don’t bite.” your legs shake as you stalk towards the bed, swallowing at its size. you’d never thought that a spacious king-sized bed would be too small, too suffocating when you have oikawa staring at you, a strange gleam in his eye that gives you a harsh sense of unease.

you’re tense when you lay down and oikawa props himself up, smiling as he rakes his eyes over you. it’s horribly scrutinising- it’s like being under a microscope as he picks you apart with just his sugared smile, orbs narrowing and his smile seeming so wry.

“you’re a very beautiful woman.” he finally speaks. it sounds like a lie. so horribly sweet it’s sickly and you have to resist the urge to flinch when he reaches out to twine a stray lock of hair around his finger. “i’m so happy i chose you.” your mouth tastes sour and your body feels icy as he releases your hair, trailing a finger down your throat, along your collarbone. he hooks it under the flimsy strap of your dress and that’s when you can’t control the panicked squeal that escapes you.

“please. n-not tonight.” oikawa looks half surprised, half stunned at the sudden bout of emotion you release.

“fine.” he smiles, but it doesn’t fill you with relief when he releases your strap, grazing his finger back along your collarbones and throat. it lingers too long on your neck, his brown eyes piercing into you and your stomach drops when you realise he’s not looking into your eyes.

you finally realise why you feel so uneasy when he stares at you.

he looks at you like you’re prey.

it’s anxiety-inducing, living with oikawa tōru. even after the honeymoon when you finally return to his home, you’re in a constant state of unease. you don’t seem to be able to sleep well, staring at the dark ceiling for hours with your body tense, even way after oikawa’s breathing falls slow and steady. your appetite has dissipated, your tightly-knotted stomach now churning with nausea and every time you hear that silky, saccharine voice and feel his coarse fingers tracing along your shoulders- his favourite way to make his presence known- you can’t help but start, heart pounding against your rib cage. you’re certain he’s noticed- his eyes are sharp and perceptive- but a part of you wonders whether he enjoys it, whether his wide smile is out of sick entertainment.

but he isn’t a bad husband, which seems to confuse you the most. it’s strange living in a new country with the hot sun beating down on you, unfamiliar language surrounding your ears and no friends or family for company. the only person you have is oikawa, and he knows it. his hand grips yours tight whenever you leave the house, and it only ever is with him. he talks a lot but he never tells you the important things. he doesn’t tell you important words you may need to know like ‘help’ or ‘police’ or ‘phone’ but instead laughs when you ask about them, waving a dismissive hand. he points out the best department store for the finest clothes and makeup but raises an eyebrow when you ask where the closest train station is, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

“and why would you need to know that when i’m here, y/n?” he taps the tip of your nose and a sour taste lingers in your mouth as you hold back the nasty words you want to spit at him. how humiliating.

oikawa becomes all you know. your day is empty spent in a luxurious home, looking beautiful in the pretty yet stiff clothes your husband buys you, painting your face in the makeup he fills your draws with yet you have nothing to do. the maids who clean your home and leave the food in the fridge don’t look at you as they work and the gardener barely gives you a second glance, leaving you feeling invisible with only your alienated thoughts filling your mind. the silence is deafening yet lonesome, that when the front door slams shut and you hear oikawa’s footsteps against the marble hallway floor, you’re rushing to greet him with your cheeks burning.

you’re never happy to see him. no, your life would be a thousand times better if he hadn’t ever been forced into it, but you still run like a dog at a bell whenever he comes home from a long day of training, his tanned skin and brown locks wet with sweat.

“tōru!” you breathe, and hearing his soft voice, his sadistic chuckle, breaks the suffocating silence you’re confined to. maybe he enjoys it. maybe he enjoys seeing your face lighten up with human contact because when he opens his arms and pouts his lips to press a kiss to your forehead you don’t resist.

but he’s not your husband because you want him to be. just when you think you’re okay with him insisting on kissing your cheek or feeding you the fruits he bought home from the market or pulling you into his arms when you’re watching a television show in a language you don’t understand but he knows perfectly, your skin crawls and you remember that you hate him.

your voice cracks on the first phone call home back to your mother. her cheery, almost proud voice rings in your ears, not knowing she was part of the reason why you feel so numb, so broken and so trapped.

“mum, i don’t like it here.” you tell her quietly, playing with the thick telephone cord. “please let me come home. i don’t like him.” she laughs at you, an awkward titter that has tears stinging your eyes. you’re tired.

“give it some time, you just need to adjust. stop being ungrateful.” she scoffs and you can imagine her rolling her eyes, her tone mocking like she’s speaking to a child. “he’s a good man.”

an icy coldness runs over your tensed body when you hear the shuffle in the doorway and you turn to lock eyes with oikawa. his brown orbs look so dark, his brow furrowed slightly and even though a smile stretches across his face, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“ah, y/n-chan,” he beams. “tell your mother i said hi.”

oikawa isn’t quite the same after that day. if it didn’t already feel like a noose was hanging around your throat, it definitely felt tighter, like the life was being squeezed from you. suddenly oikawa is everywhere, weighing down on you but it’s heavy, oppressive, cruel. you can expect your phone to call every hour, the picture of himself he set on your phone flashing up on the screen like clockwork with the same mindless questions. he knows you have nothing to do, no one to speak to, no life except the moment he gets home and infests your space with his existence. but he was sweet before, even if it still made you shudder. now he was nasty.

disapproval is etched on his face as he watches you get ready in the morning, your hand shaking as you apply lipstick when you see his eyes pierce into you in the reflection of the mirror. it makes your heart race, cold sweat dampening your palms as your stomach churns in anticipation from what words would fall from his lips.

“red lipstick makes you look like a whore. i don’t want people thinking my wife is a slut.” he spits. you don’t hesitate to wipe it off.

there’s always more. humiliating you with harsh jokes and only speaking in spanish when you meet his teammates, leaving you alienated as you try to cling to their words, try to laugh along when they sneer and chuckle at you, oikawa’s laugh always ringing the loudest. chastising in a cruel, sneering tone over the simplest of things leaves you anxious and wary, hands trembling whenever you intend to do just the slightest, most natural of things because you’re aware of his heavy gaze piercing into you, scrutinising you for faults, leaving you scared almost for whatever harsh words will be spat from his lips this time. your comfort was little before, being forced into being the wife of a stranger you didn’t want in your life, but now all of that had been diminished. you aren’t just unfortunate now. you’re trapped.

“i bet you feel so lonely here.” his words cut through the silence one day, eyes fluttering open and locking onto yours. and with his head in your lap, your fingers forced to run through his hair like a puppet doll, you can’t look away, you can’t ignore him or the smirk tugging at his lips. “having no friends, no family, no one except me.” he chuckles but you’re not sure what’s the funny bit. “your parents don’t call much do they? and your friends forgot about you when you left japan?” he shakes his head a little, eyes sparkling with cold amusement. “you really don’t have anyone to care about you except me, right?”

your throat tightens as his words ring in your mind and you realise he’s right. it doesn’t matter if you hate him, if you feel sick and trapped and hopeless when looking at him and his cruel smile, you really do have no one but him. there’s nothing to do but be his.

the scent of vanilla hangs heavy in the bedroom, orange candlelight illuminating but it’s anything but romantic or peaceful when you’re pinned onto the mattress. oikawa’s legs are on either side of your body, trapping you in with his hands pressed against your shoulders. it hurts, his nails pierce into your skin and your throat is tight, barely being able to breathe in the warm, thick, perfumed air that lingers.

“i’ve waited long enough.” he groans, slowly rocking his hips against you. your silk nightdress is bunched at your waist, your fingers gripping the cloth as his stiff, hard cock glides against your folds. you can’t deny that you’re getting wetter, each brush along your cunt building sensitivity as you shudder. oikawa looks drunk, his eyes growing heavy-lidded and cheeks flushing with a pink glow, a brief smile tugging at his lips between breathy sighs. “you’re my wife. this is right.” it stings when he pinches your chin and traces his fingers on the soft skin of your face before his lips meet yours.

it’s the first time you’ve kissed him. his lips are too much and you cringe at the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours, forcing itself between your lips and invading your mouth. you mewl, but it’s laced with discomfort as your back arches off the bed, but you have nowhere to go with oikawa weighing you down. “my sweet wife.” he purrs, resting his wet lips agsinst yours and curling his fingers around your throat.

“tōru,” you hiss when his cockhead meets your entrance, your sweating hands gripping the cloth of your nightdress tighter, heart thumping against your ribcage. “w-wait-”

“be a good wife to me, y/n-can.” it sounds sweet, like a gentle plead but his fingers tightening around your throat and the cockhead almost nudging into your hole gives you no choice. “God of creation, in the beginning, You told adam and eve to be fruitful and to multiply and to have dominion over the animals here on earth.” a shaky cry falls from your lips as he slowly slides the weeping head of his cock into your tight hole. it burns, the stretch stinging even with the first couple of inches and your walls clamp tight, a distressed groan escaping. his hand releases your throat, the skin pulsating and bruised, to travel down to your chest, pinching your nipples sharply through the thin fabric, making you wince. “father, i pray that in our marriage we continue to be fruitful and multiply.” his words ring in your ears, sounding so distant like your head has been plunged underwater. it burns, his cock forcing itself into your cunt and ripping through the flesh as deep groans fall from his lips. “let us do this physically with children who are blessings that come from You.” his fingers pinch your nipples harder, pain rushing through you. your throat tightens. the tears are hot streaming down your face. “let us also do this spiritually by birthing ministries that You have called us to birth and by making disciples that You have selected.” his moans are heavy gasps, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he sheaths the last few inches of his throbbing length into your tight pussy, his chest pressed against yours and his breath hot and heavy as it ghosts your lips. “a-amen.” orange candlelight orbs and his brown eyes glimmer through your tears as he grips your face, tugging it to face him as your cunt aches with the searing pain. “say it, sweet girl.”

“a-amen.” his lips press against yours, swallowing the weeps that fall from your lips as he starts to rock his hips into you.

the pain never fully dissipates. scarlet bleeds out onto the pristine bedsheets, dyed in the candlelight. his shadow flickers on the walls as he fucks into you, chanting your name with deep groans and heavy-lidded eyes rolling to the back of his head, harsh fingertips pinching and swirling your clit. your bloodied, torn walls cling tight to his cock, your own moans muffled as you bite your trembling bottom lip, trying to bury your face into the pillow as he pounds into you but there’s no evading his hungry kisses or the bites he traces down your throat.

“cum for me.” he coos and you shudder as his tongue darts out to lick up the silvery tears that roll down your cheeks. “cum for me right now.”

beaten down into submission. his wife. your orgasm is forced from you, bloodied slick drooling from your pussy as he swallows your moans, his hips snapping against yours faster and groaning as your walls clench around him.

“i’ll give you my cum.” he murmurs against your hot, bruised skin. “i’ll fill up your pussy with my cum, make you nice and swollen with my child. then you’ll always be mine.”

you cry out when his cum floods your pussy, so deep and warm and sticky, filling you up entirely as you whine. your hands tremble as you lift your dress, horrified to see the pink globules dribbling down your thighs when he pulls out.

you’re frozen when he lies beside you, wrapping his arms around your shaking body and pressing tender kisses to your shoulder. “you’re such a sweet wife to me.” he murmurs. “i’ll never let you go.”

1K notes · View notes

spikesbimbo · 3 years

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Needy

first fic I've ever wrote. :/

Summary: Bby boy Ushi needs some love and affection and your more than willing to give it to him, and you have some help too

Pairing: Ushijima x Reader X Tendou

Tags: MLM, Poly, Daddy kink, creampie, slight cnc, squirting, dirty talk, praise, threesome, oral sex, cum eating, nipple piercings, (lemme know if left anything out.)

Word Count: 3.3k

18+ Minors DNI

Ushi rarely initiates sex when he has the both of you jumping him 24/7 but today he was needy, after a long day of practice he just wanted some physical affection.

But when you greeted him with a big shirt on, leaving him to guess if there was anything underneath, and him confirming it was nothing due to your heart shaped nipple piercing poking out, it made him flustered

30 mins into both you watching TV on the couch all he could think about was you, your fingers ghosting over his lips getting sticky with his saliva while feeding him the leftovers of the food you worked so hard to prepare for your two boys.

He knew he should be thinking about you this way when you’re doing something so innocent and sweet, but he couldn’t ignore the impure thoughts and the growing bulge in his pants, and neither could you.

“You okay daddy?” You asked knowing exactly what he needs.

He looked at you for a minute just staring, thinking if he just heard you say that word or it was his deluded brain playing games on him.

“What’d you say?” He hums leaning down to see you eye level seeing your glossy eyes looking back at him.

“I said… are you okay daddy?” But he didn’t just hear the sweet and softness of your voice, he also heard the desire of your voice, the same voice that would cry out in bed begging to be stuffed full, the same voice that would wake him up in the middle of the night when you complained that “your cunny was too wet” with your glowing red cheeks, and of course him and Tori would take care of that, of you, their precious little baby.

“Yes, I’m fine” He replied hoping that this feeling would leave him soon.

“Really… because you don’t look like your doing fine” You started. “In fact, you look like your having some issues” You whispered in his ear.

“Ushi, baby, you can tell me what you need” You continued, now dragging you fingers on his thigh, getting closer to his dick by the second.

“You know I’m always there for you” “In anyway…” You finished with that alluring in your voice.

Great. All his stress and stamina building up from practice and coming home to see you in that shirt, his shirt that doesn’t leave much to the imagine got him hard. So incredibly hard, not the morning wood hard or he can take care of himself in the bathroom hard, but he needed to get his dick wet hard. Like right now hard. And of course, being the good girl you were, you were here to ease his needs.

“Toshi!” You squealed as he picked you up. Him not bothering to reply as he headed towards your bedroom.

You let out a little yelp as he threw you on the bed. You watched him take off his clothes and looked at him in awe, looking at his perfectly built body not realizing how strong he was, but you could take it. You lived to please them.

“Daddy!” You cried as he was already trying to insert himself into you, not even bothering to take your his shirt off.

“Daddy no!” You whimpered.

“You can take it. You always have and look at you” he said referring to the slick dripping out of you.

And you couldn’t deny that you were in fact wet, how could you not be when you’re constantly daydreaming about both of your men.

“Look at me” he ordered while throwing your legs on this shoulders and forcing you look up to see his lust filled gaze then looking down along with you to see him lining his cock up with your little cunt.

“Fuck” he mumbled as he slowly pushed it in. With you gripping his biceps hard enough to leave nail imprints on him that’ll definitely get him teased for in the locker room later. But all he could think about was how tight you were, even after taking him and Tori multiple times you never loosened up.

“Ushi” You whined, tears running down your face and fuck did he find that hot. Was it wrong to like seeing your partner cry? You told him before it was from pleasure and you guys had a safe word just in case, but it set something off inside him, something feral.

He starts thrusting into you, slowly at first but getting rougher and faster each time, leaving you begging for more.

“Please” You hiccup. He ignores you just going harder. His grunts were music to your ears, letting you know you were doing a good job making your heart swell. Your shirt was riding up with every thrust until it reached above your breasts, feeling the cool air hit them.

You couldn’t even think to take it off, you couldn’t even think about anything how full you felt. He bent down until his face was in your neck, making your legs open more reaching deeper inside you. You moans drowning out any other sound.

“Having fun without me?” You quickly turned your head and saw your other boyfriend, the other love of your life.

Ushi ignored him, while he kept ramming into you causing you to let out muffled whines. You could barely see him from your watery eyes and Ushi’s arm blocking your view, but you missed him so much.

“Tori” You call, trying to make grabby hands at him, getting cut off by a moan.

Toshi raised his head up until his face was just above yours, taking notice of the other man but being to focused on your little cunt to care.

“Aww baby you gonna ignore me?” Satori said walking up to both of you talking to Ushi and not getting a response.

“Hmm?” He said grabbing onto Ushi’s locks pulling his head back enough to see him. You watching the scene unfold in front of you, making you clench even more around him.

You never really got intimate with just one another, it was always the three of you, making sure no one felt left out or unappreciated. But of course, this situation has happened before. One time even leaving you crying after you walked in on them because you felt like they didn’t even love or care about you, but of course it was just a bad day getting to you. And they immediately stopped once they noticed you crying and naturally Tori ran over to you, naked and sweaty as can be, and pulled you into a hug. But that was a whole different story.

Toshi stopped fucking you and looked at the man letting go of his hair. Tendou quickly assessed the situation before him. You in a mess, and Ushijima balls deep in you.

“Aw, he didn’t even take his shirt off you…poor baby”

Tendou was the mediator among you three, Ushijima was not the brightest with foreplay or more intimate actions and you were a little baby, doing whatever they pleased, no backbone. You got off on pleasing them.Tendou usually did the foreplay, even dragging it out more than them fucking you. So, it was no surprise that Ushijima took you with barely any prep.

“Fuck baby your so wet” Tendou said, you blushing at his words.

“…You like pain don’t ya” He gathered from you dripping down his balls even though he was using you to get off and not exactly having sex with you.

You now even more embarrassed trying to hide your face in Ushi’s arm. “Y-yes Tori.” You mumbled, hiding your eyes from Tendou and Ushi looking right down at you.

“Hmm?” he let out, pushing you further, living for the red appearing on your cheeks while Ushijima got harder inside you making you let out a whine.

“Y-yes!” You stated forcing yourself to look Tori in his eyes. You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Ushi started pounding into you once again, making you let out a muffled squeal. Your vision became blurry again from the tears that started running and the force he was fucking into you with making the whole bed shake.

You didn’t even know Tendou took all his clothes off until you opened your eyes and saw him kissing Ushi, their naked forms making you squirm under him. Your whines got their attention, Satori detached his lips from his and turned his attention towards you.

“Aww, don’t worry baby we didn’t forget about you” he said leaning down to kiss you. He knew how much you loved kissing, how much it got you worked up more than anything else. Your muffled moans were breaking into the kiss. He knew it hurt, he’d usually go for an hour trying to get you ready for him, and it still barely fit. But the look it your eyes said something else, so how could he not tease you.

“Shh, baby it’s okay” He coddled you, your poor little pussy getting destroyed as Ushi rammed into your cervix, making your whole body jump. He turned his attention back to Ushi, kissing down his neck leaving hickeys, another thing he would get teased about in the locker room, then taking his nipple into his mouth making Ushi let out a low groan.

“Fuck, you hear yourself?” He said, now rubbing Toshi’s nipples between his fingers.

You didn’t even know you you’d being letting out such lewd sounds until he told you, now muffling them because you were embarrassed of them. Which he took notice of.

He focused back on you, shoving his way between you and Ushijima. “Lemme hear them pretty moans” he said taking your clit into his mouth while Toshi was still driving himself into you.

Both of your let out loud moans, while Tori was doing what he was best at, making you feel good.

He took his mouth off so he could get a better view and found your clit again with his fingers, making you orgasm around Toshi’s cock, loving the way you moaned for him and the dazed, lust filled way you looked at him and Ushijima

“You creamin on him, then it must feel good” he referred to your cunt gushing around Toshi’s cock, you could only moan in response.

He moved his fingers to your lips, knowing your oral fixation, and how you always had to be sucking on something whether it be their fingers or dick, and oh lord you sent Ushi into overdrive just putting his fingers in your mouth out of nowhere, making him blush, which was as hard as it seemed.

Tori continued trailing his fingers over them before you just took them in your mouth, making Ushi grow inside you.

“So impatient baby” He taunted.“ m’ sorry daddy “ You mumbled. Guilt pooled in your tummy, feeling like you disappointed him, like you weren’t their good girl. He would usually punish you, but it already looks like you’ve gone through enough today and what better way to distract you than feed your fixation.

“Open up doll.” He said and you did right away, prodding his fingers deeper in your mouth hitting the back of your throat without you gagging.

Fuck. He remembers when you first tried to give him and Ushi head, and how you could barely fit any of it in your mouth, and how far you’ve come being able to deep throat them making his dick get even harder. He took his fingers out and gave a few pumps to his cock the lined it up with your mouth. He noticed the gleam in your eyes, so happy to suck his dick, like it was you only purpose in life.

He slowly put it letting out a choked-out moan. Feeling the hot wetness of your mouth could make him cum at any second, but he wanted to have a little fun first.

“Good girl.” He let out once he settled in the back of your throat, the statement making all your worries go away. He gently started pushing himself in and out of your mouth until you go the hang of it.

Ushi moans looking at the sight before him of you gagging on Tendou’s dick. “Fuck” Ushi thought. As many positions as Tendou has had you in missionary was definitely his favorite. He could see your pretty face moan and distort because of him making and see your body bounce with his every move making his ego rise.

Satori noticed Ushijima’s heart eyes at the scene below him and he completely understood what was going through his head.

“Tell em’ you love him.” He leaned down and not so subtly whispered to you.

You didn’t even to told twice before you tried your best to express your love for the bigger man.

“T-toshi” you moaned choking on Tori’s cock, using his first name knowing that it would get him worked up. And it did making him let out a groan, leading Tendou to reattach himself to his lips.

“I-I” you tried to continue. Tori enjoying this, fucking your face ever harder, having both you and Ushi’s attention on him made him feel like a King.

“Come on baby, you can say it” He teasingly encouraged taking a break from his boyfriend’s lips.

“I- L-ov-v” You struggled saying trying to do your best.

“Look at her baby” He said grabbing Ushi’s face and forcing him to look at you fucking your little cunny on his cock while proclaiming your love. Making his brain freeze up, but his body working even harder.

“L-Lov-e y-ou!” You finished. Spit and drool coming out of your mouth dripping all over him. Making him cum in your mouth while letting gout a few curses and some filthy words.

He didn’t even get to take his cock all the way out of your mouth before Ushi was already in the position he started with, his face back in your neck pushing your legs further back to reach deep inside you again.You didn’t even get a break, before he started roughly hitting your cervix again, causing your lips to hang open the cum still in your mouth drippling out.

“You crying baby?” Tendou coos failing to snap you out of your headspace. Not getting a response he looks closer at you seeing your pretty eye lashses flutter with tears, making his heart swell.

“Yeah she’s crying” He states leaning to Ushijima.

“So pretty…” he said so fondly “Make her do it some more…” He says in Ushi’s ear, setting something off within him, somehow making him go even harder and deeper than possible. Leaving you crying out for more.

“Daddy please-e!” You sobbed out to both of them not knowing what for. And with pleasure Tendou moves to take care of you, how could he not when you were so pretty begging for them.

He leaves kisses all over you face before kissing the mess he made in your mouth, moaning into the kiss how much of a good girl you were for keeping it inside. But you were too fucked out to pay attention to anything but the feeling of one of your boyfriends’ dick ramming inside you.

He then moves back to Ushi kissing him with the cum still on his lips putting on a show for you making you clench around his cock.

He settles himself behind you, your back to his chest and rolls on of your pierced nipples with his fingers and grabs the other breast with his palm, telling how much him and Ushi loved them after that one time you nervously admitted that you were insecure that your boobs were on the smaller size, and after that he wouldn’t leave them alone, telling you how pretty they were and how him and Ushijima love everything about you, since Ushi wasn’t the best at expressing himself.

One boyfriend making you see stars and the other whispering endless praise into your ear and knowing the fact that they love you and want you this much sends your body into overload making you spit out a flood of moans.

“Yeah...he’s fucking you good baby, huh?” Tendou mocked. Kissin the tears off your face still playing with your breasts.

“yeah, ye-eah, ...yes please” You softly choked out.“

So polite…even when you’re getting fucked stupid” “Tori!” You whined.“

Yeah? You gonna cum?” He questioned, laughing at the state you were in.

“i-im’gon-nna cum!” You cried as you felt the heat in your tummy growing. “yeah...yeah! Ushi, please!”

“Fuck y/n, youre so tight” He hisses knowing that he was coming close too.

“I’m gonna make a mess Toshi! You cried feeling the orgasm, your cunt clenching around him, one hand gripping onto his arm the other squeezing Tori’s hand. You cum all over him and yourself, some sinking in the sheets. Heat rising up your spine to your face, Ushi still fucking you into overstimulation, burying his cock into you.

“Fuck y/n im bout to cum”

“Where you want him to cum doll” Tori asks already knowing. But still decides to do you the favor. But his words went in one ear and out the other. Your adrift mind only feeling overwhelmed.“

Shh baby relax” He softly said to you trying to gain your attention, but it still wasn’t working.

“Can you answer me doll?” He said tilting your head up to look at him.“I-inside.” You finally replied.

“Yeah? You want him to make a mess in their honey?” You quickly nod not being able to get any words out.

“You heard her.” He said to the other man finally setting him off.He falls on you, his face now on your chest him catching his breath while telling you how good you felt.

“Fuck!” Tendou said admiring the mess you made your sloppy hole clenching round nothing , you made her squirt.

The three of you just lay there for a few minutes or 30 minutes. You couldn’t tell. You broke the silence by saying how cute Ushi was acting like a baby snuggled up in your chest, while giving him a peck on his forehead. Before turning your attention towards your other man.

You try to get the words out as loudly as you can with your course voice hurting. “Love you Tori.” You attempt to say making his heart dance.

“Love you too doll, both of you.”

“You awake Ushi?” you asked playing with his hair. All you got back was a groan, making you and Tori giggle.

“Ushi… baby” “Yes” He responds with his voice being muffled by your skin.

“You know you can always tell us when you feel needy, right? We wont judge.” You voice.

“Yeah baby” Tendou adds on. “We don’t mind.” Ushijima responds with an “ok.” Now facing you, but still leaning against you

“Let’s take a bath.” Tendou says while both giving you a kiss on the cheek and forehead.You both say nothing but you both move from you position. Your exposed skin feeling cold to the air, feeling sticky from the sweat and cum.

Tori and Ushijima get up and start moving the bathroom and you try to follow but you legs can barely function and you’re already sore down there. Luckily Tendou notices your poor little self.

“You gonna pick her up?” He said referring to your fucked out limp state.

“Oh yeah” Ushijima says with his deadpan voice, walking over to you and giving you a peck on our forehead before throwing you over his shoulder. Cue you and Tendou laughing at the position you were in while Ushi’s face stays blank.

“No, like this.” Tendou demonstrates showing him how to properly hold you like the baby you were. Ushijima moved one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back, before walking to the bathroom to finally relax.

#ushiten x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#ushijima imagine #ushijima x tendou #tendou imagine #tendou drabble #tendou hcs #tendou fluff #ushijima fluff #ushijima #tendou

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soobmint · 3 years

Text

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

1K notes · View notes

cobaincreates · 3 years

Text

touch

warnings: freshly served smut :), oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 4k+

this is part one & wow i really did that. taglist is totally open by the way! let me know what you think!

— — —

what the hell was it about veins sticking out of an arm that had you nearly drooling? they shouldn’t be so attractive, yet here you were in a deep trance thinking about licking the prominent flexing of them in a specific forearm. you supposed it was your brain sending a slew of chemicals through your body, making your heartbeat spread from your chest to your fingertips. the longer you stared at the tiny mounds, the quicker the thrum of your heart spread to your center. science wasn’t really your strong suit, so you didn’t dare try to knit pick the core reason you were feeling a little (very) hot (and bothered).

if you could push down with the pad of your thumb at the peak of the vein, you’d most likely be grossed out, but it’d be intriguing to see it bloom back to its original place. you’d feel the warmth underneath the buttery skin, maybe even feel the pulse of a heartbeat. god, what you’d give to just—

“y/n?”

you jerked, eyelids fluttering as you processed where you were and why sarah was holding a large bowl out to you. the contents were leafy greens with pops of orange and yellow peppers. a few cherry tomatoes poked from under the blanket of lettuce. right, you thought, dinner. on the cameron’s boat. where you’d been for the past seven hours.

“you okay?” she asked slowly as your hands moved to life to take the bowl from her.

“mhm,” you hummed and picked out a good amount of salad to have. you then placed the tongs back in the bowl and held it across the table. catching sight of those veins from earlier, you swallowed thickly and flicked your eyes to a very interesting pepper.

“thanks.” sarah’s brother said as he lifted the weight from your hands. you swallowed again and sat up straight as the sounds of silverware scooping from dishes continued. once everyone had what they wanted and a conversation had started, you dove into your salad like it was your last meal on earth.

you stole a few glances directly across from you, your eyes skimming over rafe’s skin under his light blue t-shirt. it wasn’t helping that he was moving, making the veins pop more whenever he used his muscles in his forearm. you busied yourself with your food and nearly choked when rafe caught your glance. you thought you were being sly and not obvious in your stare, but you caught a glimpse of that tiny little curve at the corner of his mouth as he chewed.

you’d known the camerons for some time now, thanks to your parents mingling once you moved to the island. you had sparked an instant joy to having sarah cameron as one of your best friends and you loved her so much that it hurt even worse when you finally met her older, very infamous brother. it was like you’d been struck by lightning. you were left with a sensation you couldn’t quite put your finger on. sometimes it felt like the jolts of electricity whenever you caught his eye.

you weren’t in love. you knew that much. you were just very, very attracted to rafe. a perfect example would be your ridiculous obsession with the veins in his arms. god, why were they so addicting?

“what are you girls up to tonight?” rose, sarah’s stepmother, questioned from beside you. you chewed the food in your mouth, not quite tasting it as you waited for sarah to answer. you honestly had no idea what you planned to do during your sleepover.

“probably junk food and rom-coms.” sarah answered easily.

you were fine with the suggestion; it was usually what you two did during sleepovers. sometimes you’d sneak out to meet your friends at the boneyard, but it had been months since the last kegger and you weren’t exactly fond of the memory. maybe sarah would ditch you for a secret rendezvous with john b again, which would leave you in her room all by yourself. you could imagine yourself spread out on her floor, listening for soft shuffles in the hallway, and looking for rafe to come through the door. you shifted in your seat, coming back to reality on the cameron boat.

“when are we heading back?” wheezie asked, looking at ward at the head of the table.

“are we boring you?” rafe asked, causing your attention to shift from the youngest cameron to the oldest. and sexiest.

“i have plans tonight and to be honest, i'd much rather be anywhere but here.”

“you weren’t dragged on the boat. you had a choice to come just like any of us.” sarah said.

you looked at her then gauged wheezie’s reaction. she just sighed and sank into her seat. you pushed around a few noodles from the pasta salad rose had made earlier this morning.

“we’ll head out as soon as everyone is done.” ward said, reaching over to pat wheezie on the back of the hand.

sarah, wheezie, rafe, and you were on cleanup duty while ward prepped the boat to head back to tannyhill. you stacked all the dishes and brought them over to sarah at the sink in the makeshift kitchen. wheezie was on drying duty, leaving rafe to take care of the leftovers and cover all of the dishes back up. you watched for a moment as he picked up one of the dishes that was nearly empty and threw the rest out in the trash. you held your hands out for it to bring to sarah and he smiled at you.

“rafe!” you looked up at the sound of ward’s voice floating from above then over at rafe. “come up here please!”

rafe brushed his hands off on his thighs and moved around the table. “can you cover the rest?”

“sure.” you nodded and reached across the table for the pasta salad. a hot warmth appeared on your waist as rafe brushed past you, his hand touching your skin. you swallowed as the contact sent a whole heatwave through you and watched his back as he walked out onto the lower deck, his shirt brightening under the sun. going back to covering the food up, you turned around to bring them to rose who brought over the cooler. just as you did, you realized that rafe touching you had no correlation between needing to get by. he had perfectly enough space to do so in the dining area and kitchen. nothing was blocking his way.

—

“i'm really upset that i didn’t get to witness rob lowe in the 80s in person. like, really upset.” sarah whined with her hands over her eyes.

“he had no right with that hair and that stupid earring.” you said, arms crossed with a pout on your face.

“and that jumpsuit!” you both cried in unison then laughed loudly. st. elmo’s fire had been a whirlwind of emotions, strictly from rob lowe’s appearance. it just wasn’t fair to be born so late.

“okay,” sarah said as she snuggled further under her covers. “i'm exhausted.”

“no follow up with the outsiders?”

“say hi to rob lowe for me. night.” she said and turned onto her side with her back to you. the tv was still rolling the credits before you stopped it and got out of her bed to change the discs. you weren’t ready to sleep just yet. maybe seeing dally would coax you to dream of greased up characters played by actors who were now twice your age.

given that it was only eleven, it was too early for sarah to be going to sleep. usually she was all for staying up until three and munching on popcorn or playing a board game with dice. you knew she was only falling asleep early because john b had texted her about an early morning date he wanted to take her on. it was so disgustingly cute how quickly she wanted to sleep after reading his words. so while she fell asleep, you tried to focus on ponyboy and his dyed blonde locks instead of the veiny-armed off-limits cameron across the hall.

obviously, you failed. by the time it was nearing two and you already turned the tv off, you still weren’t tired. the ceiling wasn’t moving closer to you or providing any interesting details as you continued to stare up at it. your heart beat rhythmically throughout your body as you thought about the instance of rafe touching you today. you closed your eyes and felt his warm hand on your waist again, but then you felt it moving all over you. sarah made a small noise in her sleep as rafe’s hand was gliding over your stomach.

your eyes opened, his hand disappearing, and a huff leaving your lips. you looked toward sarah’s door, shut tight and separating you from her family, from her brother. you covered your eyes and rolled away from your sleeping best friend. you peeked through your fingers, looking where you last placed your phone and debating on sending an innocent text. maybe you could pretend you meant to send it to someone else. but maybe rafe would find it weird since you didn’t have a texting history with him. no, it would be too obvious.

rubbing your face, you sighed again and sat up. you needed a drink of water. the glass that sat beside you was empty from earlier and you and sarah had exhausted all the stashed drinks from your earlier preparations.

closing her door quietly behind you so you wouldn’t wake her, or anyone for that matter, you breathed a little easier and found your way to the stairs. about three steps down, you noticed a faint light from the ground floor, but you guessed it was a nightlight just in case anyone like you came down, looking for a snack or drink.

the tiled floor was crisply cold under your feet, sending a shiver up your bare legs and eliciting goosebumps on all exposed skin. you wound your arms across your chest for some semblance of warmth.

the chill you felt two seconds ago reappeared as you entered the large kitchen and found the source of the light coming from the fridge. it wasn’t a nightlight like you thought.

rafe stood there illuminated by the light, very shirtless and sweatpants hanging very low on his hips. you swallowed as you watched him munching on something.

“hey,” you whispered quietly so you wouldn’t scare him.

he looked over, stopping mid-bite. “hey. you okay?”

“yeah. just came to get some water.” you held the glass up as proof and stepped carefully to the sink installed in the island. rafe had a slew of condiments spread out on the countertop and you glanced over them curiously as you filled the glass. he had made himself a sandwich, the other half not in his hand sitting on a plate beside you. just as you turned the water off, his hand appeared and slid the plate over.

“you hungry?”

turning slightly and placing your hip against the island, you knew you needed something to lean on from the way he looked right now. as if you hadn’t just been thinking about him upstairs, it all came rushing back.

“don’t you want it?” you asked, taking a shaky sip from the glass.

rafe shook his head and swallowed his next bite. “i'd rather you eat it if you’re hungry.”

you looked away from him and picked up the sandwich, taking a small bite. rafe reached into the fridge and pulled out the pasta salad. fishing for a fork from the silverware drawer beside you, he leaned his elbows on the island and pierced a few noodles. you looked away from the muscles in his shoulders and took another bite in silence.

“it was nice having you on the boat today.” rafe said without prompt. you stopped chewing as you gauged his expression. “did you have fun?”

it was difficult to answer when he was looking at you as if you looked stunning in a tank top and sleep shorts. it was two in the morning. you should’ve been sleeping. but your heart leapt at his question.

“i did.” you nodded once you swallowed the next bite. you then thought about his hand on your waist and felt those shivers all over again like someone had opened a door behind you, letting the wintriest winter air in.

you decided on one more bite even though you weren’t hungry at all and now you were feeling rather nauseous with the way your stomach was rolling and leaping and doing all kinds of things. all the while, your heart started to beat louder in your chest. your fingers pulsed. rafe pushed off the counter, trapping the fork in between his lips to hold as he closed the container and put it back in the fridge. it was darker once he closed it, taking away any light so you couldn’t watch him as closely.

but once your eyes adjusted, you watched rafe come closer. you pressed yourself up against the counter, knowing that he needed to get to the sink when he took the fork from his mouth. you picked up your glass, taking a generous gulp. the water failed to distract you as rafe’s hand appeared on your hip, his chest brushing against you as he put the fork in the sink. your skin was totally exposed to his since your tank top had ridden up. you let out a shaky breath into the glass, your eyes closing momentarily until his hand disappeared and he stood next to you.

“why do you keep doing that?” you asked, your voice shaking a bit but you hoped he didn’t notice.

“doing what?” he busied himself with cleaning up the countertop. you stared at his back as he opened the fridge again.

“touching me.” you said. he turned to grab the packaged cheese, opening the drawer to drop it into. it annoyed you that he wasn’t paying attention or giving you all of his attention. “you’re either doing it just because or you’re trying to tell me something.”

rafe closed the fridge and gave you a questioning look. “you don’t touch people, rafe,” you clarified.

“how are you so sure?”

you wanted to groan about him playing dumb with you. why couldn’t he just tell you?

“because i've known you for a while now, at least i think i do, and i've never once seen you touch someone else.” rafe picked up the dish with your half the sandwich on it and tossed it into the trash. you stepped back so he could reach into the sink to leave the plate there. “so, what is it?”

“isn’t it obvious?” he questioned, frustrating you even further. you were getting confused, getting off track of trying to figure him out. you wanted to pull at your hair. why did he have to be mysterious all of the sudden?

“what do you want from me?” you questioned, hoping you’d get to the bottom of it. sure, you had ideas of what his answer would be, but you weren’t going to do anything until he told you himself.

your mouth nearly dropped open when he took your glass and downed a long sip. becoming angry, you reached up and took the glass from him, splashing a bit of water on his face from the sudden movement. he held in a laugh, water still in his mouth.

the grin fell from his face as you wedged yourself between him and the countertop. you knew you’d only done it out of frustration from his lack of answer. he was driving you crazy. rafe stared down at you, moving his hips away from yours very noticeably while his hands found your waist for extra measure. you looked at him almost daringly, trying to egg him on.

when he stayed put on his decision not to say much, you found your hands appearing over top of his. they were warm on your waist and under your palms. the hammer of your pulse started to feel like a cartoon character was taking a mallet and whacking as fast as they could to your insides.

you couldn’t describe how it felt touching rafe’s forearms finally after stressing over them hours earlier. if you had stayed a little while longer, you might have felt his own pulse through the vein. instead, you wanted to learn the contours of his biceps all the way up to his shoulders.

“this would be a lot easier if you just told me what you wanted.” you whispered like you’d done when you first walked into the kitchen.

rafe’s fingers dug a little deeper into your skin and his hips hovered over yours like they weren’t even there. you swallowed thickly and watched your fingers run down his chest, his torso that flexed faintly you thought you missed it like missing a sunset change color. rafe stayed still even as you traced his jutting hipbone down into his sweats. you lifted your eyes to his, finding his lips parted and slick. you licked at your own, watching his eyes never leave your face as you felt him through the fabric of his pants. he let out a shaky breath. his hips moved ever so slightly.

you stroked him once, painstakingly slow from the soft lift of his eyebrows. his eyes nearly slipped closed when his forehead sank to yours. it was as if he was so weak, he couldn’t stand to be touched. it made the mallet in your chest hammer harder.

the second time you stroked over him, tightening your grip a little, rafe let out a noise and shook his head softly against yours.

“what?” you prompted.

rafe removed a hand from your waist to catch your wrist. “not here.” he squeezed out and pulled away reluctantly before tugging you along.

you watched his back, taking in a few shaky breaths. you focused on controlling your breathing as he opened one of the french doors that led out onto the wrap-around porch. the air was cooler than the one you just shared with rafe. it was refreshing as it helped you relax. you heard a few chirps of the insects and the bloats from a few frogs somewhere closer to the marsh.

rafe led you over to the patio furniture. he sat down in one of rose’s white wicker chairs, creaking under his weight. he tried to pull you with him but wasn’t expecting you to sink down to your knees in front of him. he sat up in confusion, his hands resting on your shoulders as he watched you reach for his sweatpants. you needed them to come off, or at least be pulled down. you needed to taste him.

rafe’s hands slipped from your shoulders as he leaned back so you could tug his pants down. you bit your lip rather harshly as the sight of him. the whacking continued and sounded louder in your ears. you wanted to cry out of joy and laugh ridiculously at the vein running up the underside of him. you had to swallow to control the salivating, like a kid anticipating chocolate cake for breakfast.

the moon wasn’t even out, but you could see rafe’s arousal on his tip. you reached for it, wrapping your hand around him like a blanket. rafe heaved a breath.

“is this what you wanted?” you asked him, running your thumb over him and collecting the warm liquid.

rafe groaned. “oh, fuck. yes.”

you rubbed his thigh as your other hand moved over him slowly. the hairs tickled under your palm as you brought it all the way up and settled over his hip. you rubbed your thumb over him again, eyeing that vein that seemed to be taunting you now. rising higher on your knees, you looked up at rafe’s expectant and waiting gaze.

“tell me, rafe.”

you drew your lips between your teeth, waiting patiently for him to speak. he looked down at you between his legs and held back a moan as your hand moved over him. “i want you to suck my dick. fuck,” he panted in anticipation. “i want those pretty lips wrapped around me. please.”

you breathed in deeply with excitement, careful not to show it so you didn’t blow your cover of how badly you’d been wanting to do this. would he think it was ridiculous?

lowering your face closer, you dragged your hand to the base of him and pressed a kiss to his tip. you coated your lips with his arousal and wondered if he was coming undone at the seams. what did you look like, between his knees, on your own? you saw his hands reaching to grip the armrests at the precise moment you stuck your tongue out, finally tasting him. it was an innocent lick, probably showcasing just how anxious you were to have him in your mouth. but once you had that initial first taste, you were gone.

“oh, fuck.” he repeated, his chest heaving. you licked him again then traveled down the length of him in open-mouthed kisses. feeling that vein against your lips sent a large wave of shivers to your core. you hummed in delight to yourself without realizing until rafe’s hand appeared over yours on his hip. catching his eye at the right moment, you tilted your head upright, flattened your tongue on the underside of him, and licked all the way up that delicious vein. rafe’s face screwed up in agony, but you weren’t even done yet.

taking his tip between your lips, you applied the slightest bit of pressure. you swirled your tongue, moving your hand around him at the same time. “shit,” he said as his hips flinched off the chair in return, rutting into your mouth further. his fingers appeared at the side of your head, pushing into your hair. “fuck, baby, keep going.”

you did as he said, closing your eyes and willing yourself not to choke. you were unsuccessful as you gagged and recoiled off of him.

“go slow,” he coaxed and loosened his hold on your hair. your cheeks began to burn from the embarrassment. rafe rubbed soothingly into your scalp. you tried to relax; you didn’t want to stop now just because you couldn’t take all of him. you breathed through your nose and concentrated on taking him slowly. you took a little past his tip, sucking your lips around him. the second time, you took a little more and licked back up that vein.

“good girl,” he praised, reminding you that he was there and that you were doing okay. the phrase alone sent ripples down your spine.

minutes later with rafe’s grip on your hair not hurting anymore, he rutted his hips and pushed himself into your mouth. you took him, quite surprised at your ability to do so, but it felt good.

“y/n, i'm gonna come.” he gasped. the new opportunity had you rolling with determination as you moved your mouth over him. he groaned louder and for the first time, you thought about his sleeping family inside. god, what if you were caught? what if someone had already heard everything?

the possibility edged you on to go faster, to make rafe explode into your mouth. you then thought about tasting him, all of him, about how you’d have him in your system. it seemed weird almost, but you didn’t care as you listened to him coming undone beneath you and felt his fingers in your hair. he swore left and right just before you made your own noise, surprised, when he finally did come undone. he spilled into your mouth, coating your tongue. you slowed your movements over him, helping him through his high as his chest heaved.

you sank back onto your legs once you parted from him. you licked your lips, swallowing, and wiped the corner of your mouth. it was almost criminal the way you had the dark to hide your grin, like it was an accomplice. you looked up at rafe still lounged in the chair and felt another heatwave at the sight of him glistening in his lap. what you wouldn’t give to have another go.

“fuck.” he sighed to himself once he caught his breath. “where are you going?”

you looked down at him when you stood, adjusting your shorts. when you saw how he was looking up at you, you wanted to do everything you could to just crawl into his lap and stay there, to have the sun never come up. instead, you knew tomorrow had to come. “to bed. i'm tired.”

for a second, you pleaded with the universe to have him ask you to sleep with him. you wanted to walk upstairs hand-in-hand and close yourselves in his bedroom. you wanted to lay down under his covers, to have him touch you until the sun came up. but you knew you couldn’t risk that all in one night. you could wait, only if he wanted to.

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x fem!reader

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Night Swim

Garth of Shayeris/Tempest x batsis!reader

Summary: pinning over him. I know like 7 people will read it but he’s too cute. Canon has no home here and timelines don’t matter.

Warning: dash of innuendos.

The apprentice of a justice league member that went on his own. That could describe almost all of your brothers but it also described the beautiful man standing before you. That currently didn’t even notice you were staring at him puppy dog eyed.

“So, are you ever going to do anything about it or just stare at him until he jumps back in the sea again,” Kori said beside you. You jumped and gave her a look. “Noise cancelling glass. He can’t hear us and no one is looking over here,” she reassured you.

“That obvious,” you asked turning to face her. She nodded with a little smile. Of course she thought it was cute. She had told Dick the first time she knew she was attracted to him. That’s how she was raised. No fear of rejection or shame in sexual attraction. You were raised by batman and had a healthy dose of both.

“There’s not like it would do any good. He’s never given me a second thought and I don’t even think he likes surface walkers anyways,” you deflected. She snorted.

“He dated Donna.”

“That shouldn’t count. She’s Themyscirian. They’re like perfect,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know. I find Dick very appealing and he is human. Is his powers what attracts you to him?” She asked leaning on a desk. Her long curly red hair flowed over her shoulder in a way that only Kori could.

“No, of course not. I mean, they’re cool for sure. But it’s.. he’s nice and honorable and funny,” you said and she grinned almost proudly.

“And you can be nice and honorable and funny without any meta powers. Don’t put yourself down. And if you need help..” she started.

“No no no. No wing woman,” you said quickly.

“What do you need a wing woman for?” Dick asked behind you. Your eyes widened before you turned around.

“Nothing. Just some guy from college. That I don’t like,” you said in possibly the worst lie of your life. Dick narrowed his eyes at you.

“I can tell you’re lying but if I don’t know the truth, I can’t lie to Bruce about what you’re doing so don’t tell me,” Dick said. Wally, Donna, and Garth walked in the room.

“Wait, did I hear that Nightwing’s little sister is seeing someone? Is he ready to die,” Wally laughed clapping Dick on the shoulder.

“I’m not having this conversation,” you squeaked out before squeezing between the heroes, feeling yourself far too close to Garth for just a moment. Thank goodness M’gann wasn’t there to read your thoughts or feelings. Kori stayed mum on the subject and concentrated on the mission that Dick was prepping the team for.

You didn’t go on missions now. An injury that put an end to that. You just couldn’t maintain the level a vigilante needed. Sometimes you’d help with the computers but mainly you worked at Wayne Enterprise with Tim. You were just visiting on this trip and wasn’t involved in the mission.

“Wish us luck,” Kori said giving you a hug. You couldn’t help but watch Garth in his new blue suit that fit perfectly as the rest of the team walked by.

“Woah,” you said barely above silent but Kori hugging you caught it all and giggled quietly. You flushed and tried to stutter out some excuse.

“He is very handsome. Wish him luck,” she whispered in your ear. You made a little noise to disagree and she simply grinned at you while walking away.

“What was that,” Dick asked, suspicious.

“Nothing, just a joke. Good luck. Be safe,” you said to him and Dick didn’t argue but definitely didn’t believe you before joining his team.

As they left, your mind wandered to the first time you met Garth. It was a mission in a warehouse fire that had homeless people camping out on the second story. You walked carefully to the back office through dense fog with flames threatening any moment to see if there was anyone in there. The fire was getting really close and it was kinda dicey. But it was your first job away from Gotham and you were 14 and you felt the need to prove yourself.

You entered the room bent low with smoke overhead. You saw something move in the back of the room and you made your way towards it. But just as you crossed to the back half of the room, part of the ceiling collapsed, trapping you in the room and knocking you to the floor. You jumped back against the wall. There wasn’t a window and the movement? A toy.

You shrank against the wall and pushed your panic button. The fire was hot and you cursed wearing shorts. “Shit,” you breathed as it started moving closer. The air was starting to get thick. The flames jumped and you pressed against the wall with your eyes covered, expecting flames to hit you.

But instead you felt cool wet air and you opened your eyes to see water surrounding you. It appeared to float in air and you reached a hand out to touch it, confused. As soon as you felt the tips of your fingers dampened, the water crashed to the floor causing you to jump.

In there place was a teenage boy only a few years older than you, grinning. You stared at him in silence. He had just saved your life.

“Did you- how did you-“ you stuttered and his smile grew even wider.

“Aqualad, at your service. You wanna leave before it crashes on us?” He said and you took a step to wince in pain. Oh yeah, when you jumped you twisted your ankle. Your plan, like all the other bats, was to suck it up and hobble out. But Garth had other plans and he quickly scooped you up bridal style as soon as he noticed you couldn’t walk.

“Just hold on. I’ll carry you,” he said walked down the charred stairs carefully. You couldn’t take your eyes off his handsome face the whole time. Your heart pounded and your lack of experience with dating or liking anyone had you completely dumbfounded. “You can let go,” he said with a little smile.

You were out of the warehouse clinging to him past the time necessary and quickly moved away from him, feeling your skin flush. Dick gave you a look over before give Garth with a look you couldn’t recognize.

——————————————

“She’s catatonic, Bro.”

“Feed her something.”

“Wally, food isn’t always the answer,” Dick said giving your shoulder a shake. You jumped and knocked over a glass of water.

“Sorry!” You yelped reaching over to grab a towel.

“I’ve got it,” Garth said and with a flick of his wrist the water started to pour in the sink rather than off the counter. As you watched the water jumped before flowing down the drain. You laughed a little and looked up to see Garth grinning at you. Dick stared suspiciously at you both before being pulled somewhere by another Titan.

“So was the mission okay?” You asked, not knowing what to say. Your crush was more ‘stare across the room’ rather than do anything about it.

“It went well,” he answered grabbing a water bottle and chugging it. You tried not to stare.

“Cool suit,” you said and immediately felt stupid. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thanks,” he said without adding anything else, leaving an awkward air to hang.

“Damn, you might be from the sea but are soo dry, Garth,” Roy said clapping him on the back on his way to his room. Garth looked at you confused.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been land side. Is being dry an insult now?” He asked.

“I mean, kinda. It just means boring,” you answered with a shrug. “You know Roy.”

“But you are dry. I mean, you live on land. Not that you’re boring,” he said with an awkward laugh. You smiled back at him before taking a sip of your drink nervously. “Does that mean you want to be wet?”

You coughed as you choked on the liquid. He tapped you on the back. “You okay?” He asked concerned. Donna walked by with a raised eyebrow but said nothing.

“I’m fine. No, that’s not how that works. It’s just we aren’t really dry. We’re like 80 percent water. Dry means like sand or something. Too dry,” you said and he nodded humoring you.

“It seems pretty dry here,” he said playfully.

“I can knock over more glasses. Get this place all wet again,” you quipped.

“Tempting. Or you can go swimming with me,” he answered back.

“Haha or I could- what? It’s nighttime,” you answered. “And doesn’t that do something to the currents or something?”

He gave you a dry look. “The currents come in at night? Yep. You’d be the safest person in the water swimming with me. I could navigate night swimming as a squirt. Come with?” Garth asked.

“I-“ you stared before mumbling.

“You what? I didn’t hear the last part,” he said.

“I... can’t swim,” you said and he stared at you and you felt like sliding under the counter and through the floor. Then Garth’s lips curled into a smile and he laughed a little. You looked down awkwardly.

“Oh you’re serious?”

“Yeah...”

“I’m sorry. I forget that swimming is learned skill here. I apologize,” he started.

“It’s okay. Really,” you insisted.

“Come with me. We’ll stay shallow,” he offered. You looked at him before nodding.

“This is a bad idea but let’s go,” you said pulling him along. Garth laughed as you pulled him out the back door towards the beach. “I forgot a bathing suit,” you admitted.

“I guess you could go insi-“ he trailed off as you pulled your shirt off and shorts to swim in your underwear and bra. He quickly looked away as you ran in the water to your waist.

“Coming in? Can’t believe I have to ask, merman” you said and he pulled off his shirt to quickly join you. You splashed him with water which quickly turned into a splashing war.

“Okay, you win!” You yelped as he bombarded you with water. He splashed you one last time and you turned away. Garth grabbed you by the waist as a wave splashed over you. You simply watched each other for a moment. You noticed your feet didn’t touch the ground anymore. You clung to him.

“I can’t touch,” you said a little panicky. He held on to you.

“Don’t worry. I’m right here. I won’t let you drown. It’s my job, remember?” Garth smiled. “Look around. Look at the moon.”

You looked up to see the luminous globe hanging above the sea. It lit a silvery path through the water, highlighting waves crashing. The beach seemed far away. The only sounds were the sea and a few night birds as well as Garth’s breath from being so close. You looked back at him and almost froze. He was gorgeous. The water truly was his element. His dark hair curled in the water and the moon glow highlighted his nose and collarbones. His purple eyes looked almost black in the darkness but the way he looked at you said a ton.

He looked down at your lips and you couldn’t help but lick them, tasting salt water. Garth bent a little and you turned your head up to touch lips softly. His arms wrapped closer around you as you kissed. Garth easily kept you above the water. Your brain was broken. You were kissing Garth, who you’ve had a crush on for a long time.

Suddenly water splashed over your head as a wave crashed on you both. You leaned away with a cough as water invaded your mouth and nose. Your eyes stung and watered a little.

“Sorry, I forgot to pay attention,” Garth admitted sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” you said with only a little cough. “Can we?”

“Get you on land? Yeah. You’re getting cold anyways,” Garth said before swimming towards the shore. It wasn’t a rough choppy swim the way people did. He seemed to simply glide through the water gracefully. So beautifully. Which was broken when he fell over on the beach.

“You’re the most graceful swimmer and trip on your feet when you hit ground,” you said with a laugh as you attempted to help him up. He was far too heavy to lift but appreciated the effort.

“Atlantean,” he shrugged. “Don’t make fun of me too much. You can’t even swim.”

“Yeah? You wanna take a dip in Gotham Harbor?” You asked and he laughed.

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to get some unknown cancer from whatever pollution they have. Or whatever rouge is living there,” he added.

“That’s why I can’t swim,” you answered. It really was cool in the wind and you quickly pulled on your clothing.

“But doesn’t batman have like multiple pools?”

“Yeah but I never used them. I was 15 when he took me in. Too old to learn,” you shrugged.

“You’re never to old to learn to swim. It’s important for safety,” Garth said. “Especially here,” he motioned at the beach.

“Especially if I keep kissing Tempest in the water?” You quipped.

“That’s just a bonus,” he said pulling you close by the hips. You grinned up at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

And a spotlight shined glaringly at you both. You covered your eyes and looked away.

“Come inside,” boomed the voice of your brother. “Now.”

And that’s how you got a 20 minute lectures on the danger of night swimming and risk of hypothermia and Garth got the shovel talk. But despite the fact that Dick was really angry, you didn’t regret a thing and went to bed with wet hair and smile on your face.

#Garth of Shayeris #Garth DC #Garth of shayeris x reader #Garth of shayeris x batsis!reader #batsis!reader #aqualad x reader #tempest x reader #tempest x batsis!reader #dick Grayson is a big brother #Titans tower is on the beach #it’s pretty perfect

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon.

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet.

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

#Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x you

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underkita-archive · 3 years

Text

polyester

kita shinsuke | w.c 2k

a/n: sigh pain,, this is inspired by the song heather by conan gray! i was walking my dog when the song came on and i was like huh, what if i just write a leetle something? which became u know,, 2k words,,,, anyway uh note that this not really an x reader fic,,,

now with the companion piece cotton

set post-timeskip

warnings: just sad, poor use of past tense honestly i struggled so hard, unrequited feelings/love, some tears being shed, feelings of regret

On the second day of your first year of high school you meet Kita Shinsuke.

Quiet, collected, Kita Shinsuke.

It had been completely by luck of the draw. You could remember your nerves, still afraid of navigating the ins and outs of high school when there was a gentle tap on your shoulder in the first year hallway.

“You dropped this.” He’d placed the notebook in your hands before you could stutter out a thank you, left to watch as he approached the Miya twins with a stern look.

To call it love at first sight may have been an exaggeration, but at the time you couldn’t help but color it as such.

His cool demeanor and dedication to a sport that hardly rewarded him was far more admirable than you would’ve liked to admit. So you had found yourself at few more volleyball matches than someone who never cared for the sport.

And when Miya Atsumu came careening into the classroom one frigid morning spouting nonsense and demanding one of the girls in your class volunteer to be the volleyball club’s team manager you couldn’t have stopped yourself from raising your hand if you tried.

He wasn’t even captain yet, but the two of you worked closely. Staying behind to clean up after the raucous first years, careless second years and overworked third years.

The only ones dedicated enough.

Somewhere in between those late nights cleaning and those early mornings prepping, between the quiet whispers and watching him become more and more dependable.

You had fallen in love.

It hadn’t surprised you, you knew you were doomed from the start. Since that one lucky day in the first year hallway, you knew it had been a matter of when not if.

There had been more than enough opportunities to confess your feelings, to free yourself of the endless nights of pining, of being tormented by all the what ifs and almosts.

Yet you watched in perfect silence as your first year melted away. Watched as Kita earned the right to being called captain, and let yourself be consumed by the role of the doting team manager.

Once again you had found yourself letting the months roll by, allowing your feelings to rot away at your insides, suffering in the way he seemed to form a kind smile solely for you, living for the quiet praise and approving nods he’d occasionally offer.

“Why don’t you just confess?” Your friend had said, tired of the sad way you would carry yourself after a particularly taxing day of spending too much time in Kita’s proximity.

“Nationals, I’ll tell him when we win nationals.” You promised, trying to convince yourself that it would be the right time, a poor attempt at trying to conjure up a speck of bravery.

By the time Nationals had arrived you had prepared your heart to the best of your ability, ready to see your team take their rightful spot as the champions.

And when they didn’t, whatever courage you had cobbled together shattered. So you sulked. Standing on the balcony of the hotel, staring up at the light polluted Tokyo sky, shaking from the biting cold.

“You’ll get sick like that.” You hadn’t thought your blood could run any colder until his voice interrupted whatever pitiful thoughts had been running through your mind.

“I-It’s...fine.” You hoped he chalked down the stammer in your words from the weather over nerves.

“Mmm. Don’t stay out here too long.” You nodded your head, keeping your eyes focused on a flickering star struggling to make its presence known when there was a weight on your shoulders. You couldn’t help but snap your eyes down, the familiar shade of maroon now hanging over your body.

And what should’ve finally been said that night was left in the air, left struggling like that little star in the sky.

With a heavy heart you watched him graduate, watched as time kept moving without bothering to let you catch up.

◇ ◆ ◇

Years later you can say with confidence that your school girl crush has aptly faded, telling yourself that there was never a need to confess.

Until your phone beeps late one Thursday night.

Engagement dinner.

Your eyes scan over the text, once, twice, again and again until you lose count, until your chest feels tight and your face burns and what were once feelings you thought had faded start rearing their ugly head.

You won’t allow whatever leftover hormonal thoughts poke and prod at what you’ve built up. You’re older, wiser and most importantly you’ve moved on.

So you clean up nicely, put on something nice but not too nice, just a touch of perfume and only check twice in the mirror before you walk out the door to call a Lyft.

The restaurant is unfamiliar, nestled in a cute little neighborhood. It’s fitting for Kita, it’s homey and cozy but nice enough for the occasion.

You try not to choke as he approaches you, a grin too large splaying across his usually serious face, oddly enough it fits, furthermore it hurts.

It takes you a second too long to notice the woman beside him, the sight of his arm tucked behind her back as she curls into his side, she offers you a shy yet refined smile. You barely catch her name, the overwhelming sensation of the past creeping up on you, tearing down whatever walls you had carefully built over the years.

They show you to the table, Aran, Akagi and Gin already there with their charming and familiar smiles, yet the lovely reunion is unable to distract you from the way he pulls out her chair, making sure she’s properly settled before he takes his place beside her once more.

You think of the maroon jacket that had weighed so comfortably on your shoulders that freezing Tokyo night, you think of the words that laid on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far as Kita patted your head and returned back inside.

The lost opportunity.

Only to have the once sweet memory dashed away at the lightness of your left ring finger, as you’re forced to witness the woman beside Kita rest a perfectly manicured hand atop his, the ruby gemstone set on a golden band gleaming so beautifully in the low restaurant lighting.

“Captain! Sorry we’re late! Congratulations.” Miya Atsumu with his usual loudmouth tears through your concealed pity party, a small smile finding its way to your lips at the way Osamu trudges behind him with that special irritated look reserved solely for his brother.

“It’s just Kita, I haven’t been your captain in years.” He rises from his seat, taking his bride-to-be’s hand and introducing her to the ever famous Miya twins.

“Sure sure, manager-chan! Looking good!” He’s by your side in seconds, thick arms already pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

“You’re gonna break her ‘Tsumu.”

“Shut it ‘Samu, I would never.” His hold only tightens at the statement, the rippling of his muscles against your body causing an undeniable rush of heat to bloom across your body.

“Enough of that.” You laugh, wiggling out of his grip with an exasperated laugh.

A few more former players of Inarizaki pour into the restaurant, old memories tossed around with endearing fondness and one too many congratulatory toasts leaves your heart aching worse than before, regret eating away at you, the inevitable question of what if cycling though your thoughts.

“Doing okay?” Atsumu’s closeness is nothing new, somewhere over the years your boundaries had skewed, his face being a little too close was to be expected at this point.

“Sure.” It’s a noncommittal reply that Atsumu would normally call you out on, but he accepts it only after letting his gaze linger on you for a moment.

The minutes tick by as Kita retells the picturesque proposal he had carefully planned, unfiltered adoration and fondness adorning his eyes.

Lovestruck.

An expression you had wished this man to have focused on you just a few years ago.

What if?

The question taunts you, what if you hadn’t been a coward? What if you had said it that night? Or any other moment spent by his side? Would it be you?

Another sip of the bitter wine offers no reprieve from the taunting thoughts, whatever mask you had been donning the entirety of the night starts to wear down, you can feel it slipping out of place.

“Boy am I sweatin’!” Atsumu barks out, knocking his shoulder against yours, true enough his cheeks are tinted a soft blush, eyes glossy from one too many beers.

The exclamation causes a few snorts and chuckles around the table, a scathing comment from Osamu and a faux jeer from Suna.

“Maybe you need a walk.” You mumble, picking at the food you had long abandoned earlier in the meal.

“Ya know what? You might be onto somethin’, let’s go.” His fingers are around your wrist before you can register what he’s saying.

“Atsumu what?”

“C’mon, say bye!”

“Atsumu!”

“You be safe, thank you for coming.” Your head spins as Kita offers that same smile, still a little too wide as he offers a nod and turns back to his fiancee. Atsumu tugs at you again, only for you to shake him off, turning properly to the happy couple.

“Congratulations Kita-san. I wish you both,” You swallow the bitter lump in your throat, “I wish you both unending happiness.”

You’re turning on your heel before you can receive a reply, biting back whatever pent up emotions threaten to spill over as you rush out of the restaurant, practically running down the sidewalk fueled by the desperate need to get as far as you possibly can.

“Hey hey slow down!” You don’t bother slowing, let alone stopping, knowing fully well the professional athlete chasing after you will catch up in a matter of seconds. “I said slow down.”

The second his hand touches your shoulder whatever walls left standing come crumbling down.

“It hurts.” It’s nothing more than a whisper before he’s turning you around to face him, a hand still planted on your shoulder as the tears that have been welled up for nearly five years begin to fall. The tears you hadn’t allowed yourself to shed.

“I know.” His voice is pained as he draws you closer, letting you close the distance as you lean against him. The trail of tears burns against your cheeks, they’re filled with shame, with unspoken words, with unrequited love.

It’s almost poetic, the way you two stand there in a broken silence under the flickering light of one of the odd stores dotting the street. It feels like hours pass by, the initial ache in your chest starting to lessen as you meet his gaze.

“Could you... consider me?” There’s something profoundly sad in his eyes, an exhaustion from years spent quietly resigned from confessing a truth that you were all too familiar with dotting his expression.

“I,” can’t, “don’t know.”

“I know that I’m not him, I don’t think I can be anything close, but just, do you think you could?” There isn’t the slightest trace of his boyish charm nor the cool demeanor he normally holds in serious situations. He feels smaller, more exposed and for the first time in all your years of knowing him.

You can see weakness.

“I can’t make any promises.” It feels almost too soon, a little rushed for you to be able to make sense of anything that’s transpired, you don’t want to hurt him, you don’t want to lead him on.

“I can wait,” a wistful quirk of his lips rekindles the ache from before as an expression you’ve surely worn in the past washes over his face, “I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

And in a matter of two, maybe three seconds, the world seems to tilt, just a few degrees, just enough for the angle to change, for that memory of the muddled Tokyo sky to shift a few inches to the right from the struggling star to the one shining in softly in the distance.

Your hand moves before you can even think, fingers curling around Atsumu’s chilled ones, intertwining them carefully as you offer him something akin to understanding, something a little deeper, not quite sure what you’re truly conveying.

“Just for a little bit longer.”

#miki writes #sad miki #angst #under.kita #inarizaki #i honestly hurt my own damn self w this #honestly maybe it's not that bad and i'm just sensitive?#idk i just #this was v therapeutic to write #i've been hating writing as of late and this just #idk it made me write #and i liked that?#there's going to be a companion piece to this at some point #idk when #but yeah phew #sorry for my sins

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beatleszeppelin · 3 years

Text

You're A... Inexperienced Chapter 2

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience.

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 3k

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2 Naked in a Lake

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Seeing Daryl only in passing. He stayed outside when you were in; you stayed outside when he stayed in.

Not even shifts brought you together. Since the fall of Woodbury, there have been plenty of new people taking shifts to give you all a break.

Most of your time was spent helping with the kids in the library when Carol was too busy doing important things to “babysit”. Or you occasionally helped out at the farm on the south side of the prison. Rick and Hershel had started it over the past few months, and already it had yielded some fine meals.

Those meals were also made courtesy of Daryl, who went out into the woods on the daily, not going far, but far enough to be out all day and come back with a belt full of squirrels and rabbits by night. You had no idea how he did it or how far he went, but he seemed to be used to the days of solitude, in nature alone.

That was all until he planned to go out a bit farther, only for a couple days, but that was more that he had been gone in a while, more than anyone had been alone for a while. When he shared these plans, you decided that you would go out hunting with him, you know, because there is safety in numbers, (and you were dying to see what he spent so much time doing everyday).

So when morning came, and it was time to leave you brought your bag and followed him to the gate. He squinted at you being blinded by the morning light that rose over the prison. “I’m coming with you, is that alright?” You asked him knowing that he couldn’t argue. You awaited his response, but it never came, instead he had the gate opened and held his arm out like a gentleman letting you lead.

You guys walked past the spikes that guarded the outside of the gates, just as the queens guards once did outside of Buckingham palace. Kicking rocks and dust clouds along the path, walking went fairly slow. Not much to say, not much to do this early in the morning. You hadn’t even waited for Carl and Carol’s shift, which normally signified morning, to start before you had left. (You were sure he had said good-bye to them, Rick, and Judith the night before though. He was good like that.)

When the sun, which was barely peering over the land when you left, had risen enough to give you a long shadow, stretched out in front of you; you decided it was time to eat. Taking the backpack off your shoulders, and unzipping it when it was in front of you, you pulled out a small loaf of bread. You broke it in half and handed some to Daryl. He gnashed into it like a rabid dog, grunting a thank you in between bites.

You nibbled off bites as you walked, trying to savor it as something to do. The scenery of trees and a dirt path was getting old. You couldn’t understand how someone could go out along this path all day every day.

It was hot, too. Hot and sweaty. By mid-day you felt as though you were dragging, lifting your legs in a pedantic manner. Daryl’s hair was stuck to his forehead, and he had stripped his poncho, just left in a cut off flannel. He seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat though, barely even touching his water.

You wonder if he stayed outside a lot before as well. There’s something about him that makes it so hard to imagine him in his house, in a domestic setting. Did he do the dishes, and make himself food? Was his room clean, did he make his bed every morning before work? Did he have a job? What did he do? But you know that wondering these things will only pass the time, because there is no way he’d ever casually mention his previous life.

People had tried guessing, to no avail. Beth’s new boyfriend, Zach, was the leader of the guessers, being followed by the children, and you’ve even discussed it with both Michonne and Carol before. It would really take something special to make him confess his stories to someone, who knows who could get that close to him though.

You spent the majority of your walk picturing him in an office setting, wearing a tie and answering phones. Or at a gas station glaring at little kids who try to stuff candy bars up their sleeves, scaring them into obeying the law.

Mechanic seemed to fit best. Not a sleazy mechanic that finds more things to break to get

some extra cash, but one that spends day and night tracking down an original piece to some old beat up motorcycle. He wouldn’t charge extra for labor, cause he’d be doing the thing he loved most. He would treat each bike as his own, tirelessly making it perfect until the finishing pieces were in their exact place, like the sprinkles on a sundae.

“Gonna cut into the woods, right here.” He nodded, directing you.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you said, snapping out of your little daydream. “Ya’ okay?” He ducked down, meeting your eyes though his hair.

“Yeah, I’s just thinking.”

“‘Kay, just watch out in here. Can’t make too much sound.”

You walked through the dense forest, making as little noise as you possibly could. Heel, toe; heel, toe. Only cracking branches and crunching leaves every few steps, listening to Daryl’s deep steadying breaths in between.

He taught you how to lay traps, and snares; different knots and when to use them. By the end of the day you could set your own, with the reassurance that he would help kill whatever you caught. No matter how many walkers you would kill, and how much bad shit you’ve seen. It still felt weird killing animals to eat.

The trapping, and mapping out your paths came to an end as night fell. The darkness made it too difficult to achieve the superb knots you were tying, and the sub par snares that Daryl would set, so you two decided to call it a night, sleeping in shifts back to back.

The next day went the same, but it was now time for the actual hunting. You left the killing to Daryl, using your lack of a silent long range weapon, like the crossbow as an excuse. You guys sat up wind, and out of the line of sight of any animals that may pass. It was quiet, and you understood why he liked it.

Hunting wasn’t all killing like you had imagined; hunting was 99% sitting quietly in nature, 1% killing.

You can’t lie about the fact that when a deer came into sight, you closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the click of the trigger on the crossbow. You didn’t want to see the animal die, but you can’t feel bad about how many people that deer could feed.

Daryl took care of the dirty work, cleaning, and “prepping” the deer to be taken home. You sat by and watched.

Once the task was complete, you started back for the prison, hoping it would cut some of the time of the walk back tomorrow. This time was cut short by the approaching darkness of night.

You two set up a small camp to spend the ever closer night. And with cans on strings, as tripwire, and your backs to each other, you two felt it was safe enough to get some rest, that was until the cans rattled.

The sounds of metal clanking, shook you from your not so deep sleep. You whipped around to see a walker reaching over your barricade of tangled fishing wire and old soda cans. It stumbled over and grabbed Daryl's boot, luckily he tied up his pant legs with cords to keep from being scratched. You scrambled over to a half awake Daryl and pulled his knife from his pocket, stabbing it into the undead's brain. He nodded graciously as you handed his knife back. You both sat still in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavily until your adrenaline died down.

Your eyes stung from lack of sleep, but it was nothing compared to how Daryl looked. His eyes were puffy, and had dark purple craters around them, and what little you could see of his eyes were bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every which direction, the bangs that normally cover his face, were defying gravity, and exposed his forehead.

“You can sleep, but let's face each other this time,” you planned.

“You sure?” he said groggily.

“Yeah, if you saw yourself, you’d be sure too.”

He scoffed, and pulled his vest out as an acting pillow, tucking one arm under it, and laying his head down. He fell asleep shortly, and you watched.

The expression he made was soft, and innocent, less like a child and more like a puppy that tired out running in a field all day. He subconsciously held his thumb to his mouth. He breathed heavily through his mouth, with quiet snores escaping occasionally.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, you couldn’t let anything disturb the peace. You weren’t tired, though, you actually felt like you had gotten a full night’s rest.

The two of you started home at the crack of dawn, with dull yellow light illuminating the grass you stood on. You took to the woods for your trek home, rather than the long road you took to get there.

Halfway through the day you happened upon a lake that looked beautiful, a direct juxtaposition to everything you had been used to seeing. The water sparkled, and light refracted off the ripples in every which direction. Birds made chirping sounds that echoed through the dense forest, and made a song through the trees.

Daryl grabbed a plastic bottle, and some of the sandy silt that covered the edge of the water, making a makeshift water filter. As he did so, you took off your shorts and threw them aside, wading into the water. The water was greenish, but you could see your feet, and the dust clouding around your steps. The water was warm enough to not give you the chills, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Once the water hit your hips, you took your shirt off and threw it a few feet away from Daryl, joining your shorts, and shortly after your bra. You watched him finish his contraption and fill it.

“Should have some water in an hour or so…” he looked up and saw you, then quickly looked back at his bottle.

“Maybe we could catch a fish or something, too,” you said, smiling at his back. “You should join me in here.”

“Nah” he shook his head.

“Yeah, when was the last time you got cleaned up?”

“I ain’t gonna, someone needs to be a lookout.” He looked up at you, standing his ground. “Anyway, I gotta piss.”

He started walking away and you yelled to him, “Yeah, sure you do, Dixon.” You splashed his way, but he had already walked behind the trees.

A noise came from your left, behind a couple of thick trees. Two walkers stumbled out, slipping on the sandy hill. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and getting back over to your clothes seemed like a death wish. They were closer to the clothes and things than you were. Daryl didn’t even have his crossbow with him, it was in the pile next to the water filter.

You yelled for Daryl, hoping he’d get back before the walkers could reach you. You yelled again, and it drew their attention. They were about at the edge of the water now, and you were fucked… but a whistle came out of the woods.

Daryl showed up and whistled loudly to catch the attention of the dead walking toward you. It worked. They started toward him at a slow pace, and you ran over to the pile of stuff. You picked one off with the crossbow. Daryl tripped backwards on a rock, and the walker stumbled towards him, wishing to bite into the leg that was trying to kick it backwards. He grabbed the rock, lifted it over his head, and smashed it down onto the walker, and hitting it again smashed his head open, covering Daryl in it’s blood. He leaned back and dropped the rock. He took a second to catch his breath.

“Hey, thanks” You said to him as you were naked and dripping like a wet dog.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows. Which you will take as a “no problem.”

Daryl’s hair dripped with blood, guts, and rotting chunks of flesh. His shirt was wet, red, and sweaty. The muddy sand covered his pants and hands, leaving him dirtier than before.

“I guess you have to join me now” you said, still mostly naked.

He begrudgingly kicked off his boots, and slid his vest off down his shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. He started walking to the edge of the water, when you had to stop him.

“What, NO!” You said haulting him, “You are not still wearing your socks.”

He took off his socks, and his pants. He walked into the lake, a couple feet in and the water hit the bottom of his shirt.

You never took Daryl as the type of person to not be okay with taking his shirt off, but here he was: standing in a lake with his shirt on, contemplating whether he should take it off or not. He stood there for a couple seconds before looking at you, and when you gave him a reassuring smile, he took it off. He looked good with it off, you didn’t see a problem, until he turned around.

He whipped around fast to throw his shirt on land, and as he did, you saw his back. He was covered in scars. Yeah, some could be new, from fighting, from surviving, but you take it he’d been surviving for a lot longer than the rest of you had.

The slashes that riddled his skin were old. He could have gotten most of them when he was still a kid. You swallowed hard, he turned and faced you but neither of you met each other's eyes. He got quiet. And as his hand pensively rubbed the back of his neck, as he thought about what you must think of him.

“Hey, come on in the water’s fine,” you said to ease the tension.

It seemingly worked, because the next thing he did was dive under, swimming to you in a second. The water rippled along the path he had swam, and broke around his emerging body. You met his eye. He nodded to you as a thanks, and you shook your head back at him in a no problem kind of way. This practice had become routine, it was easier than constantly owing thanks to the other person for some trivial task such as saving their lives.

He broke eye contact and looked down, “Still gotta piss.”

You snickered. Then stepping back a couple of feet you gestured for him to go right ahead.

He looked at you, head cocked a little, and then the realization hit and his ears turned bright red. He turned around, and you got a better look at his scars. Some were short slashes, some longer, and others crossed over each other. You couldn’t fathom the person that would hit a child, let alone Daryl; Daryl was sweet, and could never have done something that deserved this treatment.

He finished up and faced you, but didn’t meet your eyes. You got a look at him, the man that just pissed in the pool in front of you, his ears were red as well as his cheeks making a bridge across his nose. The blush trailed down to his upper chest in splotches, like watercolors splaying out.

He chewed the corner of his thumb and said, “Ya’ know, I used to piss the bed as a kid.”

“I mean we all did,” You said. “Come here.”

He complied, “Nah, I mean ‘til I’s like 8 or so.”

“Bend over,” you told him.

He leaned back and you started washing his hair for him, detangling it with your fingers, and picking things out of it like you were monkeys.

“I remember a couple times it happened, had to sneak out late at night and do my laundry in the bathroom, so no one’d hear me. But this once, my dad wasn’t home so, I didn’t get… but my mom had this whole ‘nother way of doing it. She took my clothes. Pinned me down, Merle helped. She put a diaper on me, made me sleep outside.”

“When you were 8?” You cupped some water and dumped it over his head.

“Uh huh, made me wear ‘em to school, too. Under my clothes. Said if I took ‘em off she’s gonna tell my dad, so I didn’t.” He went back to biting his thumb.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” you said, moving to wash his shoulders.

He shrugged, and flinched away when you ran your finger over a scar on his back.

“You know, stress and trauma cause children to start wetting the bed later on in childhood, it's called enuresis, it wasn’t your fault,” You splashed water on his shoulders, noticing the freckles made by the sun.

“Done?” He asked, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Am I done?” he asked and shook his hair out like a dog.

“Yeah, you’re good.”

Daryl quickly made his return to land, you however stayed in the water until the filter was done giving you each a bottle. Every once in a while you catch him glance over at you floating naked in the lake, but his eyes would quickly divert.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd fanfic #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #tw past child abuse #I love the lake scene

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let-me-luve-you · 4 years

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Overlooked and Overworked

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: Being Tom Holland’s little sister was great growing up, but after his success she’s a little left behind. Y/N Holland is willing to do whatever for her family because she loves them.

Warnings: Angst, fluff ending, rude Tom, overworked, sleep deprived

A/N: I don’t think Tom or any of the members of the Holland’s would allow this to happen to any member of their family or friends, I just had this idea and wrote it. Also I wrote this back in like January and just now got the guts to post it!

MASTERLIST BUY ME A COFFEE

The past couple of years for you have been an emotional roller coaster. You’ve been so excited and happy to see your brother succeed in his career. It’s always fun to see him on the big screen as someone else. But it’s also been tiring and sad because you feel left out. You don’t get to go to set often, you don’t get to travel with him, and you aren’t a part of his charity. The Brothers Trust is just him and your 3 other brothers. Given you help out way more than all of the brothers. Since you went to school for business, you help your mum and dad with both of their businesses and then run The Brothers Trust.

Tom is the oldest, then it’s you, the twins, and then Paddy. You’re only a year and a half younger than Tom. You were very close growing up, but once he started doing movies, you slowly grew apart. Him and the twins then grew closer. You loved him dearly but it just wasn’t the same since you never felt included. He took Harry to sets with him and on press tours. Sam would join along when he wasn’t working at the restaurant. Paddy would join during school breaks. But every time you would try to join him, he would say no. That he was too busy or too tired. You didn’t want to fight him but you were always crushed.

When he got the role of Spiderman, he decided then he wanted to move out into his own apartment. You offered to help him find a place since you had been looking for yourself. You offered to share a place and split rent but he said he wanted to be completely on his own. But shortly after he moved into his new 4 bedroom apartment, he had Harrison, Tuwaine, Sam, and Harry move in.

“The twins are moving in with Tom. Can you help pack and move them this weekend?” Your dad asked.

“What? They’re moving in with Tom? I thought he wanted his own space?” You asked him.

“He said he wanted to be around people because it was too lonely and quiet. Did you ever find a place? If so, you may want roommates too.”

“No I realized I can’t afford a place in a nice area to live alone. All my mates have moved off to continue their education or they have jobs else where.” You said sadly.

“Tom should of asked you then. I’m sorry y/n/n.”

“It’s fine. He hangs out with all four of them all the time. I would of just been in the way.” You said as you got up and left the room.

It’s been a couple of years and you still can’t afford to get your own place. Between helping run three businesses, you don’t have time to get a part time job. You pay your parents for rent and help pay bills so you are doing adult things. Plus it helps your parents financially. It’s busy season since your mum is picking up gigs for photoshoots, your dad is on tour for standup and his new book, plus you are planning a movie event through the trust as well as trying to get all the merch bagged and shipped. You have been working 14-15 hour days for the past 3 weeks without a day off. You are feeling the tiredness mentally and physically.

Tom has time off from the movie he is filming now. They gave him a month off for the holidays. Him and Harry have been home but all they have done is hung out with friends and go to the pub. You have been holed up in your office/bedroom for 3 days straight. Only to go out to the bathroom and kitchen to grab food.

“Where has y/n been? I haven’t seen much of her since we got home.” Harry asks Tom.

“She might be finalizing the Spies in Disguise event and getting things ready.” Tom responded.

“Oh good. Y/n is great at getting a head start on things so I’m guessing she’s done with all the prep and souvenirs.” Harry smiled. Tom laughed in response.

On Christmas Day, you only came out of your room for breakfast and lunch and then went back in your room to work. No one noticed the bags under your eyes that you tried to hide with makeup. No one noticed you almost falling asleep at the table. No one thought twice about why you spent most of Christmas alone in your room. But you were behind. You still had a lot of orders to fulfill and send out. You still had get all of the souvenirs together for the event that was in two days. You still had to finish sending out your dads orders for his book as well as finalize his January travel plans and stand up dates. Your mum had booked 12 more shoots and you had to finalize times and dates. And everything was supposed to be done in the next week. You finally caved and decided to ask Tom for help since it was his event after all.

“Hey Tom can I have you help me out for a little bit?” You asked him Christmas evening.

“Do you need me tonight?” He asked.

“If you can that would be great.”

“Sorry y/n/n. I can’t. I’m meeting to boys at the apartment.”

“Well maybe they can help too.” You sounded hopeful to get more help to lighten your load.

“No can do. We have drinks and plans.”

“Well then can you come tomorrow morning or early afternoon?”

“Can’t. I have a meeting with my manager to discuss everything that’s coming up and then all of us at the apartment and Paddy are going into the city. Maybe I can help you after the event?”

“No it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” You said sadly as you turned to go back to your room.

“What about Paddy? Or mum or dad?” He asked.

“Paddy has football that mum is taking him to before she does a shoot tomorrow. Dad is working on some other stuff for his January shows.”

“Sam or Harry?”

“Well both will be with you tonight and tomorrow.”

“What about in the morning?”

“Sam has to work remember. And I think Harry is meeting with some mates to catch up with them or something along those lines. It’s fine. I’ve got it handled. Have fun tonight and tomorrow. Be safe. Love you.” You turned and almost ran back to your room. You wanted to break down in tears from being overwhelmed and for not being included in any of Tom’s plans of hanging out and catching up. You’ve barely seen Tom in the past year. Only when he’s in London. You shook the thoughts of your brother out of your head and pulled out a sheet of paper. You wrote down everything that needed to be done. Then on your white board, wrote them down in most important the least important.

First up was getting all of the brothers trust bags done. You went to the storage closest and pulled out everything you would need and set the boxes on your bed. Then you went and grabbed a tote to put the finished product in. It took you until 4 am, but you finally finished putting them together. You went into the kitchen and made you some tea. You went back in your room and marked the brothers trust goody bags off of your list. Next you started finalizing plans for your mum. That just involved organizing times and dates. You finished that around 1030 am. You marked that off the list as well.

Before you emailed all of the clients their dates and times, you went to the kitchen to grab and snack and drink. Your mum was in the kitchen.

“Morning love.” She smiled at you.

“Morning.” You said back waiting on your tea.

“So I’m going to drop Paddy off at football in 20 minutes and then Tom will pick him up to go into the city. I have to go to my shoot. Do you have the invoice I can give them?”

“I do.” You rushed to your room and grabbed it from a folder then went back and handed it to her. “Everything is on there. The deposit has been paid and it shows that as well as the price for the shoot and the editing. It also gives the timeline of when they will get the pictures.”

“Great. This is wonderful. Thank you. Also the theater called and said we can set it up today at 3 pm. Are you okay to handle that on your own?”

You sighed but answered, “yes I can handle it. I finished the bags last night. I just need to print off the papers to put on the seats as well. Plus get the itinerary finished which I will have by tonight so Tom knows what’s going on.”

“That’s great. I’ll be there to take photos as well as Harry but the boys will all be busy with fans and making sure they all feel special.”

“Sounds good. Have fun on your shoot.”

Your mum smiled as her and paddy left the house. You went back into your room and emailed everyone for your mum. Then you printed the brothers trust sheets that said what the event was supporting and how we were thankful for their donations. As those were printing you forgot you had to pick up an order of pictures so Tom could sign them for the guest coming to the screening. You looked up and saw that it was 130 and if you were going to be on time you needed to leave in the next 15 minutes.

After you loaded the goody bags into your car, you drove the 20 minutes to the print shop to pick up the pictures. You then went to the theater and set everything out. It took 45 minutes to lay everything out and make sure it was perfect. You then snagged some photos for Instagram and posted them. By the time you got home it was just shy of 5. You went straight to your room to finalize the itinerary. At 8 pm your mum knocked on the door.

“Hey baby. I’m back. How did everything go setting up wise?”

“It was good. Took longer than expected but wasn’t too bad for being the only one there. Also here is the itinerary for you and dad. I also have one for each of the boys.”

“Wow. This is detailed perfectly.”

“It kind of had to be since Tom has an event to go to tomorrow night and he can’t be late. I figured the more detailed, the less things can go wrong.”

“Fair point. Love I’m not sure if the boys notice the work you put in, but I do. Have you slept yet?”

You looked at her shocked, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that I can tell you are exhausted. I woke up at 2 am last night and heard you in here and saw your light was still on.” She paused and looked at your long list on the white board. “And by the looks of it, you have a long to do list. Do you need help? After we get through the event I can help. I don’t have a shoot for a couple of days.”

“I appreciate mum, but this list needs to be done by then. And everything you can help me with will be done already. But thank you.”

“Did you ask your brothers to help? I mean this is there thing. They should be helping you. Not leaving it to you to do yourself.”

“I asked Tom to help so I could have him do the goody bags for tomorrow but he had a guys night with Sam and Harry and them last night. Then they were all busy this morning and then went into the city. But it’s fine. I did the bags last night. That’s what you heard when you woke up.”

“I’m sorry baby. I’m going to have a talk with him. Have you had a break to just hangout with Tom. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him.”

“No he’s always in a meeting or with the boys. But if Tom wanted to see me, he’d make time but when I try, he can’t. But with all this work, I haven’t really done much outside of this room in a while so it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You both used to be so close. Almost like you were twins. Weirdly enough closer than the twins have ever been. I hope you two can work whatever this is out.”

“Me too mum. Me too.” You looked at her as she slowly walked out.

After your mum left the room, you got back to work finalizing your dads stuff. Thankfully it was only 12 am when you finished. Deciding to pack all of the orders so you can drop them off to be shipped in the morning, you went and grabbed everything you would need from the storage closet and got to work. You stayed up all night working. You finally finished all the orders at 9 am. When you realized the time you rushed to get dressed and cleaned up as best you could. By 10 am you were out the door to go to the post office to ship the orders and then you were off to the theater to make sure everything was set. By 1pm the rest of your family showed up. And by 2 the theater was full of people who were excited to see the brothers and the movie.

People knew who you were. Everyone knew Tom had a sister. But you did great staying out of the eye of people. None of your brothers posted much about you on social. Your dad mainly posted about Tom and the brothers golf adventures. Your mum would occasionally when she made you model when she was trying something new. So when people arrived, they walk past you and straight to the four brothers who were ready to greet everyone.

When the event started, you weren’t really needed so you went to a back room they had set up for your brothers to relax away from people and sat on the couch. Not sleeping since Christmas Eve was starting to catch up with you but some how you forced yourself to stay awake.

“Y/n we have a problem.” Your youngest brother said as he came in the room. “The movie hasn’t started yet and it was supposed to 15 minutes ago.”

“Okay I’ll go see what’s going on.” You went to the manager of the theater and she explained to you how the light in the projector went out and it was going to be another 20 minutes before it started. She apologized multiple times.

“Hey Tom. Can you do a q&a for 20 minutes or so?”

“No the movie is supposed to be on.”

“They are having technical difficulties and it’s going to take 20 minutes to fix it.”

Tom got annoyed because he knew this was pushing the entire timeline back and it was now be pushing it for him to be on time for his event tonight. “Sure.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when we are good to go.”

After 30 minutes. The movie was finally ready to go. Every one was enjoying it and all four of your brothers moved around the theater so the kids felt like they were watching the movie with them personally. When it was over everyone was ushered into a lobby where there was a meet and greet with photos. By the time the boys were done with everyone, it was 20 minutes until Toms next event.

“Great. I’m going to be late. Thanks for that y/n. Why didn’t you have them check everything yesterday?”

“Because I didn’t think of it.”

“So stupid. How could you not think of it? It’s literally the first thing on the list of things to check when prepping the theater. Do your job better. Thats what you are paid to do. I’ll see you later.” Tom rolled his eyes and stormed off. You just stared feeling humiliated since the theater staff and your family had witnessed that. You were holding in your emotional breakdown until you could do it in private.

“Sorry guys. Y’all can go ahead and head out. I’ll clean this up and bring home whatever is ours.” Sam, Harry, and Paddy saw this as a get of jail free card and booked it out of the theater. Your dad came by and kissed you on the head and said I have to finish up some work and headed out. Your mum looked at you sadly.

“I’ll help you baby.”

“No it’s okay mum. Go edit the photos so we can get them sent out.” You smiled at her.

“It’s okay. I can do them later tonight.”

“Mum seriously. Go home. I got this. I’ll be home later. You kissed her on the cheek as you walked back in the theater. You thankfully left the tote yesterday which made it easier to put everything in. You put the tote in your car and headed back in the theater to sweep and clean up the mess. By the time you got home, it was 9 pm. You had been up for 61 hours straight. You were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep. But Tom was home and he was livid.

“What the hell?” He asked.

“What?” You asked back.

“You know I got yelled at by my manger for 30 minutes about how I was irresponsible and immature for being almost a hour late to the event tonight?”

“Why did you get yelled at? You were doing stuff for charity. He should get over it.”

“He was mad because SOMEONE told him I would be done with our event in plenty of time to go to this other one. And when I told him there was technical difficulties because that same SOMEONE didn’t do their job, he got even more mad.”

“I get that I probably should of checked but things happen Tom. Okay? Things I can’t control. Things the theater can’t control. I did this entire event by myself. Sorry for not checking but other than the delay the people loved it and we raised money which is okay because our charity now can help so many more.”

“You didn’t do this by yourself. We all help. And our charity? Our? You mean mine? Sams? Harry’s? Paddys? It’s our faces that make that charity. And when something goes wrong we are the ones that look bad. Not the person behind the scenes that only does some of the work.”

You looked at him like he was a stranger. What he said broke your heart. That’s what he really thought? You just shook your head lightly and walked to your room. You shut the door and locked it.

“Really Tom?” Your mum asked as her and your dad walked in during the argument.

“Yeah mum. We do all the work and she’s trying to take the credit. We’ve all noticed and it’s getting out of hand. You do more than she does.”

“Tom I’m extremely disappointed in you right now.” Your dad said.

“Tom she does all of the work. The planning, the scheduling, the packaging, social media, distributing the money, and figuring out all the ways we can make money to help those smaller charities.” Your mum added.

“She does?”

“Yes Tom. On top of helping me and your father with our businesses. We’ve seen you more than her this past month because she’s been so busy.” Your mum said.

“Wow.”

“Did you know she was up until 4 am on Christmas night so she could finish the goody bags before we had to prep the theater. That she had those pictures printed so you could sign them for the guest. That she made an itinerary so detailed that nothing could go wrong. Except she didn’t account for technical difficulties. She set up the theater and cleaned the theater all by herself. None of us helped her. We just showed up for the event.” Your mum said.

“Tom have you not noticed how exhausted she looks? It looks like she hasn’t slept in days. She’s trying her best to handle everything so we can have everything run smoothly for us. She even mentioned your event and how she needed to get you out of there so you wouldn’t be late. We’ve all been horrible to her by letting her do this by herself.” Your dad said.

“I... I didn’t know. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Tom got up and knocked on your door. He couldn’t hear anything so he tried opening it. He noticed it was locked and went to his old room and found the key you gave him years ago. When he unlocked it he noticed the mess around your room of boxes, plastic, mail bags for packages, and stacks of papers. He saw you on your bed and saw you were asleep. He went over and tucked you in. He went to your desk and saw the white board with everything marked off under the to do list. He then looked on your desk and saw how your mum and dads plans were finalized. He knew you mentioned everything when you asked him for help Christmas night and now you were done with it. Even all the orders were done and he saw the receipt from the post office proving the orders were shipped. He felt horrible knowing the only way that you got everything done was by staying up all night.

He turned and walked back to you and finally noticed the bags under your eyes. As well as tear stains that he knows he’s the cause for. It broke his heart knowing he was the cause. It also broke knowing that you asked for help so you wouldn’t fall in the deep end, but by saying he couldn’t help, he pushed you in and watched you drown without even realizing.

He gave you a kiss on the head and got up and quietly walked out.

“What time did y/n wake up on Christmas Day?”

“From what we know, maybe around 8 or 9.” Your dad said. Tom sat there quietly while doing the math in his head.

“61 hours.” He suddenly said.

“What?” Your mum said.

“61 hours. That’s how long she went without sleep. She asked me for help and told me why and I said no. She’s finished the list. She’s organized both of your stuff. She’s packed and shipped out all of the orders. She did everything for the event. She hasn’t slept. She’s asleep now but it was 61 hours. How could I let my sister do that? How did I not see it?” Tom asked his parents. They looked at him in shock.

“My poor baby” your mum said.

“We will talk to her tomorrow when she wakes up.” Your dad said.

“I want to be here when she wakes up so I can apologize. I’m going to go see her again.”

He got up and walked to your room. He quietly started cleaning up the mess left from packaging orders. He then laid on the other side of your bed thinking about how he messed up so bad. Shortly after he fell asleep too.

-——————

Around 7 am you woke up still exhausted but you needed a glass of water. When you went to throw the blanket off of you, you saw Tom asleep in your bed still in his clothes from the night before.

You were confused as to why he was in your bed, but you chose to ignore him. You stood up and went to the kitchen. Your mum was already cooking breakfast.

“Morning baby. How’d you sleep?” Your mum asked.

“Alright. I’m probably going to catch a few more hours. Just needed water.” You said. “By the way, do you know why Tom is in my bed?”

“He felt bad about how he has treated you lately.” She said. “He figured out you went 60 something hours without sleep.”

You looked at her shocked and sat down. She came over and gave you a hug.

“Why did you do that to yourself? Why didn’t you ask for help?” Your dad said as he joined both of you in the kitchen.

“You were working on new stuff. Mum had shoots and a house to run. I asked Tom and thought maybe him and the boys could help but they had plans. It needed to be done before the new year and definitely needed to be done before the event.”

“We appreciate you so much baby girl. I hope you know that. You do a lot for this family and this family isn’t great at giving back. We do love you.” Your mum said as she gave you a kiss on the head. “Now please go get some sleep. Sleep all day if you’d like and I can bring you food later.”

You smiled at her and walked back to your room. Tom still hadn’t moved. You sat your water on your bedside table and crawled back under the covers. You turned your back towards Tom. You were still really saddened by his words last night, that you didn’t want to face him yet.

“Y/n/n are you awake?” You heard Tom whisper.

“Go back to sleep or get out.” You said back not opening your eyes.

“I’m sorry y/n. What I said last night was wrong. I didn’t realize you do everything for our trust. I thought mum and dad did it all. I know you’ve been killing yourself to try and catch up then get ahead, but you can’t do that to yourself. You need proper rest. I’m going to make sure you never do the 61 hours straight again. I’d rather myself do it before I let you do it again.”

“Tom it’s okay. But seriously. Leave or go back to sleep.”

“No it’s not okay. I’ve royally fucked up. I’ve let us get so far apart we are almost strangers to one another. I have a charity that doesn’t even have your name on it and you do all the work. You make sure my fans are happy as well as making sure we help other small charities. You’re absolutely amazing and I’ve treated you like shit for the last few years. I don’t even give you the time of day. I promise you this, I will do better. We will be like we used to. Even if I have to kidnap you and take you with me different places. I love you and I don’t want to be the one hurting you anymore.”

You rolled over and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Your brother finally recognized you for you. He finally realized what he’s done.

“Thank you Tom. I love you too.”

He smiled at you and leaned over to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“It really means a lot that you said that. But can I please go back to sleep. I’m still exhausted.” You said.

Tom pulled you to him so your head was on his chest and shoulder. And he cuddled you so you felt protected from all the horrible things that can go wrong for you.

“Get some sleep and when you wake up, me and you will hang out. Just the two of us.” Tom said. You smiled as you drifted back to sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland sister #brother!tom holland #holland!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x sister!reader #angst #fluff ending #the brothers trust #tom holland facfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #y/n holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland angst #holland!sister

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joheunsaram · 3 years

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To Make A Power Couple - 07 (knj)

Chapter 7: Blanket Forts

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- At the hospital, Namjoon tries to make sense of what transpired as Y/N recovers.

word count- 6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, strangers2lovers

warnings- violence, blood, stalker, hospital, extremely fluffy scenes of Joon as a caretaker

a.n- wow i literally wrote this the fastest i’ve written any chapter! i hope you like it. although there is angst there is also a lot of tooth rotting fluff. special s/o to @jungkooksbroski for beta reading this 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

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Namjoon held your hand in both of his, his forehead resting upon them, as he waited for you to wake up from surgery, the beep of the heart monitor far too loud and ominous. His hood was on his head as his elbows dug into the ratty blue basketball shorts he had thrown on in a hurry. Even though the doctors had assured him that you were going to be fine, he was still worried. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt at his own house of all places and he felt responsible as he replayed the scene in his head.

You looked so small next to the woman attacking you, it made his blood run cold. She was easily twice your size and the malice her gaze held was frightening. He barely registered her presence, how could she have been in his room the whole time he was home? Why didn’t he put his bags away so he could have caught her before she attacked? Why didn’t he hear someone else was home? He remembered hearing a noise while starting food prep and he assumed it was Moni just messing around. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, wasn’t it his responsibility to protect you?

He wasn’t even fast enough to pull her off you. He remembers time slowing down, his arms around the intruder as he tried his best to move her away but she seemed to be on a rampage, stomping on your arm. He remembers the moment her heavy boots almost flattened your arm. It was as if she wore them for the occasion. How did she even get in? He had never been happier to have Jungkook and Jimin around. If it weren’t for their help, he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would have managed. He could still feel the adrenaline in his body, hours later. The guards downstairs had been quick to arrive and he remembers sitting in his underwear trying to wake you up as he watched your arm twisted in an unnatural angle. Your scream still ricocheted through his head and he held your hand tighter, wishing you’d wake up already. The doctor had said it would take a couple of hours but he was on edge.

“But I love you!” the intruder had screamed as she was being dragged off by the guards and Namjoon hated his fame once again. He hated that it affected you, that it hurt you. If he was a nobody, you would’ve never been in this situation. You deserve someone who could hold your hand in public without fear that it might cause a controversy. Someone who you could show off at your events, someone you could travel with, someone who could take you out at normal hours to exhibits and didn’t have to sneak around with at concerts. Someone who screamed his love from rooftops, unlike him who only hid you away.

“Hyung. She’s okay. The doctor said she will be okay.” Jimin spoke softly, his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders as he hugged him back, feeling dizzy. Across from him Jungkook paced in the deluxe private hospital room that their company had reserved for them. The big room had a large bed, couch and television. Its warm wood furnishing and several fake plants were meant to emit a feeling of warmth but regardless of the size or decor, Namjoon felt like he was suffocating.

“She’s in surgery. Surgery. Because of me. Jimin what do I do?” He could feel a lump in his throat as he tried to stay strong. He knew logically that you would be fine, but all he could think was 1%. That’s what the doctor said the chance was of anything going wrong. He knew that millions of people broke their arms and were perfectly fine after a few months but you were his one in a million. The fact that he even met you was so random that he thought it fate. You always managed to do the impossible and in his emotional state that 1% chance was too large. Far too large.

Yoongi had arrived shortly after Jimin messaged the group about the home invasion and he stood next to Jimin and Namjoon, his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as he tried to force him to drink water. The three men tried to reassure Namjoon in vain as he finally let go of Jimin to sit on the couch, his eyes glued to the door, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater as his leg bounced on its own accord.

After almost two hours he saw the door open as you were brought in on a stretcher, still asleep as the nurses moved you to the bed, checking your vitals. Yoongi had to physically restrain Namjoon from running over to you so the workers could do their job, but as soon as they were gone, he was by your side.

You were okay. Nothing went wrong and it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders as he all but collapsed, holding your hand, his head gingerly resting on your stomach. The boys bid him goodbye soon after making sure he was okay, giving the two of you privacy but ensuring Namjoon that their phones would be on them in case he needed someone with him. No one was getting sleep tonight.

Before Namjoon could let his negativity flood him further, he felt your hand twitch between his and he sat up, looking at your face intently as you finally opened your eyes looking at him groggily.

“Oh thank fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up without letting go of your hand, instead squeezing it tighter as he looked over at you. Your other arm was in a cast, laying over your stomach, both your eyes bruised and swollen underneath, your nose still red as you looked at him with wide eyes. His heart pained as he looked at the evidence of his failings, but for you he smiled, small and not reaching his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” you whispered, your voice hoarse. Namjoon felt his heart race, like it was going to fall out of his chest, panic slowly rising.

“Who…? You don’t know me?”

“Wait… aren’t you famous?” You asked again and he dropped your hand in shock, shaking as he rushed towards the door. Memory loss? That wasn’t a symptom they mentioned. You didn’t have a concussion and it scared him that the doctors missed something, fear making him almost sprint the short the distance.

“What the fuck? Okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to get the doctor!”

Before he could reach the door, he heard you giggle, turning around in disbelief as he heard your next words. “Joon! Stop! I was kidding!”

“You were kidding? You were KIDDING?!” He almost yelled, before checking himself. His mouth hung open for a moment as you watched him walk towards you slowly and standing over you, his brows scrunched into a pained expression on his face. “Red. Red, Y/N. You can’t joke right now, do you know how scared I was?” He whispered, sudden relief turning into exhaustion as he felt his knees almost buckle. He had never felt this overwhelmed before.

“Hey. Joonie, baby. I’m sorry.” You called to him gently, reaching for him, your fingers squeezing reassuringly around his forearm that hung next to you. Hearing him call red made you feel suddenly guilty. Even in your worst fights where you were both screaming at each other, the most either of you had called for was yellow. You had only wanted to lighten his mood, crack a joke to make him smile for real but your post-anaesthesia brain couldn’t come up with anything better.

“You’re sorry?” He looked at you incredulously before his long arms were placed gingerly around your waist as his head reached for the crook of your neck, resting there and he inhaled. You smelt different, like disinfectant and he hated it, feeling his lip quiver as he spoke against your skin in quick, flurried words.. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck! Why are you even with me? I literally put your life in danger! You should break up with me! You’re gonna have a gigantic scar and like metal inside you forever! You deserve so much -”

“Oh man! A scar? Who’s gonna marry me now?” You interrupted his rant and tried to make your voice lighter, wanting to ease his worries, assure him that you were back to normal. You looked at your useless right arm, wishing you could hug him but settled for slowly running your fingers through his hair with your left to calm him down.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now!” He moved his head away from your neck, leaning his weight on his hands that now rested next to you on the bed, looking at you intensely. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and you felt your heart break. You cupped his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as you tried to comfort him.

“Come here. Lie down.” You winced a little as you scooted to the side despite his protests, making room for him. He reluctantly laid down, his head in the crook of your arm and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You slowly caressed his shoulder and felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of your chest, his arm draping over your hips carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt.” His voice was small, muffled against you as his thumb traced meaningless patterns against you where it lay.

“Baby you literally asked me to break up with you and marry you in the same breath - you are not fine.” You spoke softly, your hand squeezing his shoulder as he took a shuddering breath. You looked at the dim tv that had the hospital’s menu channel on, displaying the time, 3:21 am. He argued not to worry about him, but you couldn’t help it. He had never looked more exhausted in your presence - even after twelve hours of dance practice on three hours of sleep, he didn’t look this drained. Your fingers moved upwards lightly scraping his scalp, his arm tightening around you, as you spoke. “I love you, you know that right?”

He sniffled, the hospital gown getting damp as he told you about his earlier worries. You hushed him, comforting him with words and coaxing him to sleep. His hand wrapped around the index finger poking out of your cast as he fell asleep after a while, his snores music to your ears. No matter what he believed, you still felt safe with him next to you.

———————————-

You looked at the soft light of dawn as it flows through the window, trying not to move as your arm throbbed in the cast. In the few hours since he fell asleep, Namjoon’s head had moved, now resting on your chest as his arm was draped over your hips, but he looked so peaceful that you dared not wake him up. You barely slept, your pain medication wearing off much too quickly. You had never broken a bone before, and as you thought about how dumb your fifth grade self was for wanting a cast, you wished your boyfriend would wake up at his own accord. You desperately needed to call the nurse for some paracetamol, but you grit your teeth and bore it. You knew you were being stupid and Namjoon would be genuinely pissed if he knew, but looking at his mouth hanging open as he drooled over you made you smile at the endearing picture infront of you.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), soon a nurse walked in for his morning rounds, waking up a groggy Namjoon who startled, almost falling off the bed, making you hiss as he accidentally held on too hard to your side to keep balance. He stood up, running his hands over his face in order to wake up properly while the nurse did the checkup, providing you with the pain killers you request. Once he leaves, Namjoon moves back to you, putting his arm under your head as this time you nuzzle into his chest. You talked about nothing as the drugs finally took effect, helping you doze off. Namjoon kissed the top of your head as you dropped off mid sentence, a smile on his face because you were alright, but a heaviness in his heart as he looked at the bruises on your face, dark blue and almost black.

———————————-

“Shh… Guys come on. Let her rest!”

Namjoon’s theatrical whisper is the first thing you hear when you wake up again. Your eyes open to your room filled with all your friends. The room had seemed extremely large the last time you were awake but now it seemed tiny. Jiyoung was sitting on the couch typing on her phone with a frown, an Apeach plush on her lap, next to her Siwon was talking animatedly with a tired looking Jungkook munching on some chips. The coffee table in front of them was full of snacks, gifts, and flowers. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jimin were talking about something hushed as they stood near the television, serious looks on their faces. Hoseok was bent over the humidifier in the corner which seemed turned off, messing with the controls and grumbling to himself. Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, talking to Namjoon with Jen standing over him with her hand on his shoulder. Namjoon sat on the bed near your legs, his hand on your calf, and Taehyung sat next to him clinging on his waist. Needless to say, it warmed your heart to see all the people you loved here. Maybe getting injured wasn’t that bad.

You winced as you moved up the bed to get more comfortable and suddenly all the attention was on you, the room turning into a cacophony of “How are you feeling?”s and “Are you okay?”s. Everyone was now crowded around the bed, looking at you with worry, Seokjin even handing you the RJ plush he’d brought along with him stating its healing powers. It was odd to be coddled by such a large group. Overwhelming, but in the best way.

“I’m fine guys. It’s just a broken arm.” You tried to diffuse the worries.

“You should look at your face dude.” Siwon stated, causing Namjoon to sigh, annoyed, and you to ask for a mirror. Oof you looked worse than you felt. By the bruises on your face it was a wonder how your nose wasn’t broken. Sheepishly you tried to explain to the group that it wasn’t that bad, but your friends were not convinced.

Soon the conversation turned from worries about you to who the attacker was in the first place. While you and Namjoon were in the hospital, Jungkook and Jimin had been to the police to give in-depth statements. Turns out Namjoon had a stalker - someone the company and security had been keeping an eye on for months, but who seemed to have fallen off the map 6 weeks ago. Apparently the same one who had caused the dates at the beginning of your relationship to always be under the watchful eye of his security team. No one knows how she had managed to break into the dorms but apparently she had been hiding out in his room for a week, his closet was full of tins of food she had consumed during her stay. It was surreal to hear that someone had been in the house and no one had noticed. It made sense to an extent - no one had been actively living in the dorms for a few weeks, especially not Namjoon so his room was never opened. The boys seemed extra distressed about it, and even thought themselves guilty. Namjoon’s words from last night echoed in your head. He put himself at fault, when really it was this woman’s fault.

No one knew what her plan was when Namjoon returned, and you didn’t want to find out. It might seem odd but you were glad that you were there to protect him in a sense. Apparently seeing you had started such a rage in her that she refused to talk further than the death threats she spewed against you. She was in jail and you hoped she stayed there for a long time.

“The police haven’t taken into account your assault. You should file a report.” Hoseok spoke for the first time, his face hardened. The room seemed in agreement, but you hesitated.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” you started, only for Namjoon, who was now seated next to you on the bed with his arm around you, to counter but you continued. “I’m just saying. Police records are public and if someone looks into this person who was charged with stalking Joon the same night as attacking me, they might put two and two together and I don’t want that to reflect on him or any of you guys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” It was Yoongi who spoke, clearly irritated and impatient. “Who cares about that? She attacked you, she deserves to be in jail.” His voice was quiet, but the frustration in his tone was not lost.

“She’s already in jail though… It’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Noona… I know it’s not our decision but you didn’t see yourself when she was attacking you.” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked at you with hurt in his eyes. “She deserves to pay for what she did…”

“Guys… I know you want the best for me, but it’s too risky… Even you all being here right now is too risky!” It was time for your voice to waver as you suddenly realized the impact of having all of them in the room. All it took was one shitty quality photo from a nurse’s Samsung to ruin their image. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it if you were responsible for their first big scandal.

“Okay. I’m going to stop you right there. This is a private place we always use. This is not a risk.” Seokjin spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if trying to explain the situation to a five year old. He didn’t do it in a condescending manner, more to make you understand. “Please stop worrying about us. Our company has stopped way bigger scandals from surfacing. Namjoon, can you please make her understand?”

Namjoon sighed loudly next to you, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer. It felt comforting, but you still felt slightly cornered. You just couldn’t see the logic in what they were saying. The attacker’s jail time would probably not change much with an assault added, at least you didn’t think so - so why was this a big deal.

“It’s her choice, hyung. I’m not going to force her to press charges if she doesn’t want to.” Namjoon looked steely at his member, before turning to you and softening. “But Y/N, I really do want you to make that decision without thinking of me or the rest of us. Can you do that?”

“No. Sorry. I can’t.” You were adamant and now you were starting to get annoyed. Namjoon was right - it was your choice - and it felt nice to have him on your side, at least partially, through this argument, but it didn’t make sense not to make it an isolated discussion. “You’re part of the situation and I can’t just make the decision without adding you to it. I’m not pressing charges.”

You heard a loud snort from Yoongi. “Why are you being an idiot?” He spoke to which Hoseok vocally agreed, causing you to almost yell your explanation in exasperation, before Harry broke the argument asking everyone to take a break and to lay off you.

There was thick tension in the room and it seemed to have sapped the air out of you. You felt uneasy, like no matter how deeply you inhaled you were breathless. You felt claustrophobic suddenly, squeezing Namjoon’s thigh, trying to control your heartbeat. Namjoon saw the distress on your face, immediately requesting everyone to move outside. It didn’t take them long to leave and somehow that helped you feel calmer.

When the room was empty, Namjoon looked at you. Turning to him, you buried your face in his chest, squishing the white alpaca between you and moving your injured arm on his stomach to hug him, despite the sharp pain that made you hiss. Breathing in his scent, somehow made the stress of last night catch up to and you cried. Namjoon held your head gently to his chest as you tangled your legs in his, wanting to almost disappear into him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly crying, but you couldn’t help it - it was like a dam broke, like you were leaking, your emotions cascading out of you onto Namjoon’s sweater. You couldn’t control your sobs and you wondered how loud you were being.

Namjoon felt his heart break as he held you. He had only seen you cry like this once - the night he asked you to be his girlfriend - and it pained him that he was partially responsible for your tears today. He didn’t know what to do other than whisper “you’re safe now” repeatedly against your hair as you clung to him clumsily. He shouldn’t have let everyone visit so soon. He should’ve thought ahead. Of course you were overwhelmed, you were traumatized. He was an idiot.

When you calmed down enough to look at him, he wiped your tears gently, barely even touching your skin, and handed you some water from the bedside table. He tried to assure you the best he could, interrupted intermittently by nurses and discharge forms. He didn’t bring up pressing charges again and you were grateful to him for that.

He helped you change into clothes Siwon had picked up for you, insisting you take the wheelchair to the car despite your protests (“My arm’s broken, not my leg Joonie!”). Before you entered your apartment Namjoon asked his security team to do a sweep. You would never admit it to him but having the place checked out before you entered made you extremely relieved. You knew it was irrational to think you’d have another stalker waiting for you but it genuinely made you feel lighter, your anxiety ebbing away.

He spent the next few hours quietly worrying about little things, changing the code to your door, checking every lock, making you tea, and even cleaning your place to ensure you had “optimum comfort”, while forcing you to stay in bed regardless of your protests. After a while you couldn’t take him running around and murmuring to himself, especially when he decided to order from six restaurants for dinner. Walking into the kitchen where he obsessively cleaned a single spot on the countertop, you pulled him away.

“Joonie. Stop.” you gently touched his hand, startling him anyways as he looked at you in alarm.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll get it. Water? Bathroom?” He bent down slightly to look you in the eyes, searching your face for any discomfort.

“Namjoon, I have a broken arm, I’m not an invalid.” You rolled your eyes. It was sweet that he was this concerned but you seriously needed him to stop running around worried.

“Wait, you said Namjoon. Are you mad at me?” He looked alarmed, his eyes wide. Now that you looked at him closely, he didn’t seem to be doing too well either. His eyes seemed sunken behind his glasses, the crease between his eyebrow deep, and his stubble growing out more than you’d ever seen. You wondered if he got much sleep after you dozed off this morning. He even seemed skinnier somehow, though you chalk that up to your imagination.

“No baby I’m not mad at you. Just stop… obsessing. I’m fine. I swear.” You cupped his face with your working hand, thumb circling his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. He leaned in closing his eyes.

“Oh… oh. I just want to show you I love you. You know like you do…” He mumbled in a slight pout, averting your gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“You always take care of me when I’m down. I want to take care of you.” You felt your heart glow in your chest. Sometimes you forget how much you love this man, but sometimes he says things that, for a lack of a better analogy, punch you in the face, reminding you why you love him. You wrap your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest, as he tentatively puts his arm around your head.

“You don’t need to deep clean my kitchen to take care of me babe. Just sit next to me. Let’s watch a movie.” You lean away from his chest to tell him, trying to tug his unmovable body towards the living room.

“Are you sure? I’m almost done. Just this one stain…” He lets go of you to grab the wipe again, only for you to pull at his hand.

“Joon. Leave it.” You say sternly, holding his hand as you lean up. “Kiss me.”

“What? No. You’re hurt.” He moves back and you have to convince your irrational feelings that he wasn’t rejecting you, he was worried about you.

“If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

“No you won’t. I know you.”

“Joonie!” you whine and he relents, although it’s not a kiss you were hoping for. He settles for a series of small pecks against your lips, so light that you barely felt him. Sure even puckering your lips was slightly painful but you were annoyed, rolling your eyes at his lame attempt. And this was the man who had spanked you so hard once that you couldn’t sit without wincing for two days. The audacity.

Before you could protest he walked with you to the living room and turned on Netflix. Picking a brainless comedy, you forced him to lie down on your lap and even before the title had come up he was asleep.

———————————-

“What wrong baby?” Namjoon came from the studio to find you lying on the ground still dressed in your pajamas with half your hair tied lopsidedly as you whined at seemingly no one, ignoring Moni as he licked your face. If he wasn’t worried that you somehow fell, he would find the sight of you throwing a tantrum like a toddler adorable.

It had been three days since you returned from the hospital, but Namjoon hadn’t seen you looking this dejected before. You had been completely normal on Sunday, even agreeing to the guys coming over for dinner so they could apologize for their behaviour at the hospital. You had riffed like usual, making fun of Jin and Yoongi as they cooked even though it seemed like you itched to get in the kitchen and help, even getting especially giddy as your childhood dream of getting a cast signed by your friends was fulfilled. The next two days, despite everyone’s insistence you had returned to work, working from home. Fortunately Harry and Siwon had rescheduled or taken over all your client meetings to lighten your load. Namjoon had returned to work too but made sure to text you throughout the day and had spent every night with you, regardless of your protests of being an “independent woman that needs no man”.

“I hate this! I’m so frustrated! I feel useless and gross!” you whined as you thrash around on the floor comically with the biggest pout he had ever seen you sport. Dropping his bag near the door and trying not to chuckle at your cute behaviour, Namjoon walked over to you kneeling next to you.

“Aww baby come here” He opened his arms invitingly as you sat up, only for you to sit crossed leg in front of him to begin your rant. Moni moves between your legs and you scratch his head absent-mindedly.

“No! I can’t attend any meetings till my face doesn’t look like fight club, I can’t shower for two more days, I can’t cook because of this dumbass arm, I can’t even tie my hair! TIE MY HAIR, JOON. I’M UGLY, USELESS AND DISGUSTING. Please leave me in my misery.”

Your face turned red as you continued listing minor inconveniences that your broken arm bestowed upon you as Namjoon made his way behind you and put his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. Instantly you relax, huffing as you leaned into his chest. Today has been tough for you. You had spent two hours on a call relaying your game plan for a potential client to Harry and walking him through his nerves about the meeting, which drained you mentally. Your laptop had restarted two times without warning, your roomba had gotten stuck under the couch and you couldn’t reach for it, you had almost fallen in the toilet because the seat was up, you ran out of coffee, and to top it all off it took you ages to write anything with your left hand alone. You felt miserable and dejected.

“You’re beautiful. My slightly stir-crazy, extremely capable, beautiful girlfriend.” Namjoon kissed your cheek as you turned your head to scowl at him, not buying his flattery. He traced your features gently. He wasn’t lying, even with your face patchy with your yellowing bruise and a scab on your lip, you were beautiful to him and he felt his heart swell the longer he looked at your face. He still had trouble believing that you were with him.

“You’re only saying that cause you love me.” You whisper softly as you avert his gaze before starting to whine again as you adjusted your sling. “Ugh I just want to eat McDonald’s and die.”

“Not going to let you die, but let’s get nuggets.”

———————————-

“Baby I got us Chinese!” Namjoon called out as he walked in your home, hands full of takeout. Hearing no answer he called out again to hear your voice coming from the bedroom.

“Joonie! Crawl under here!” He saw you emerge clumsily from the floor, cast pulled close to your chest, as he entered the room where you had piled the blankets between the edge of the bed and the chairs that you had brought near it. “I made us a fort!”

Your giggles made his heart sing as he grinned and crawled under the fort, taking care not to knock it down. You had brought the lamp from the side table under as well, lighting the small space with a soft glow. He could barely sit up, his height making it difficult not to knock down your creation so he opted for laying down, his head on your thigh as you played with his hair. He sighed in content. It felt somewhat meditative sitting in silence with you under the many sheets, the pile of soft pillows in the corner adding extra coziness.

Soon you’re laying side by side, your fingers intertwined as you bounced your hands against each other. You were both looking at the makeshift comforter ceiling, soft smiles on your faces.

“Why the sudden fort?” Namjoon asks after a while, almost in a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of comfort you both were under.

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.” He turns on his side to face you, cupping your face to make you look at him. It’s the look he always gives you whenever you doubt yourself. A look that says I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you. “I used to build these when I was a kid and missed my mom… I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick. I know it’s dumb.” You chuckle a little at how childish your comments seemed. You were almost thirty and talking about missing your mom.

Namjoon hadn’t thought of this before - the fact that Seoul wasn’t truly your home. Sure you had introduced your mom to him over Skype a few times but he thought about how much he missed Seoul when on tour, did you miss Toronto that way too? You always seemed so content in Seoul, so content with your friends that he never thought about how your family wasn’t there.

“We can go visit home if you want?” He kisses your lips chastely as he continues, his nose nuzzling yours. “I can take a few days off. I’d like to meet your mom in person.”

“We don’t have to. I’m just being a baby.” You laughed as you moved closer and he put his arm under your head to pull you into his chest. You knew this bout was homesickness was temporary, but Namjoon’s words made your heart glow in your chest. It had been two weeks since your attack and although Namjoon had been a rock, helping you with everything from ensuring that you ate to shaving your under arms, you were nostalgic about when you were sick during high school and your mom would take the day off work to take you on a drive, buying you ice cream and snacks that definitely did not help your illness. His idea wasn’t a bad one but with how your injury had messed up your work schedule, you didn’t think you could take time off for a while, and you told him as much. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again after that, dinner forgotten on the kitchen counter, as you laid under the blankets soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

Caressing your hip slowly where your shirt ended, Namjoon cleared his throat slightly, breaking the spell before he spoke in another whisper. “I could be your home… if you want.”

Moving your head from his chest you look up to find him gazing at you with a soft smile as he turns on his side again. You follow suit, the fingers of your uninjured hand tracing his chest where it stuck between the two of you. Your heart beat faster as you slowly comprehended what he meant, but you still needed him to clarify. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Namjoon was nervous - more nervous than he had been on your first date, more nervous than he had been when he asked you to be his girlfriend, more nervous than he had been after your first fight. The last two weeks had been some of his favourite with you, regardless of the circumstances that landed him there. He liked coming home to you every night, arguing over what to have for dinner, waking up each morning with his arms around you. You technically didn’t need him around anymore, your schedule was back to normal and you were more than used to navigating with one hand, but he didn’t want to go back to seeing you once or twice a week. How could he do that when he could see you everyday? The domesticity of your morning routines of coffee and reading the news together that had once scared him, were things he craved now. He even loved your playlist of the week startling him awake.

Your prolonged silence made his heart race as he bit his lip in anticipation. Before he could take back his question with a joke, you kissed him. Your lips molded around his tenderly as you took his lower lip between yours, relishing his strawberry lip balm. You break the kiss to whisper a soft yes, barely audible over the sound of your heart in your ears, and Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a fit of giggles, his forehead against yours as he pulled you closer. He tried to control his reaction but the happiness flowing through him made him feel like he was floating.

“And they were roommates!” You made the dated reference as you giggled along with him.

“You are such a dork. I love you.” He said as he brought his lips back on yours.

“Yeah, your dork!”

“All mine.” He smiled, his eyes disappearing as his cheeks hurt from the joy he felt.

–

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#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon series #rm x reader #rm fluff #rm smut #rm angst #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #btsnoonanet #purplearmynet #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts idol au

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candycityy · 3 years

Text

Some (established relationship) Rivetra birthday crack/fluff, ft. awkward!Levi, because I can.

Levi sucks at giving gifts.

Maybe it's just the fact that he's awkward as fuck, but the notion of having to find something nice for another person fills him with equal parts dread and exhaustion. Honestly, how would he know what they'd want, anyway? He'd much rather just shove a couple of coins in their direction and call it a day.

The whole concept of gifts had been a culture shock to him, after leaving the Underground—not that he didn't understand what it meant to get someone something, but just the whole song and dance about it, of how every even remotely special occasion called for a gift of some sort. The first time he'd heard of it, a squadmate was asking him to contribute something to Erwin's promotion hamper, and he'd almost snorted, assuming it was a joke; the fucker had just been promoted to Commander of the Survey Corps, honestly, wasn't that gift enough?

Fortunately, his squad knows better than to ask him to contribute things; they just ask for money whenever they're doing a group gift, which he's happy enough to part with. And with matters outside the squad, well...he still doesn't really get why people thing he's so fucking terrifying, but in this, at least, he's happy to be excluded.

Well, until now. Unlike him, Petra actually does enjoy gifts; she's one of those crazy people who likes giving them, who handwrites cards and wraps presents in nice paper and glittery ribbons (another thing he doesn't get. He's supposed to spend time and money on wrapping paper that's just going to get torn into shreds?) and somehow, considering how they're dating and all, he doubts she'd be content with his usual fare of a few coins and a curt happy birthday over breakfast.

He briefly considers staging a training accident; surely, she wouldn't expect a gift from him if he were in the med bay recovering from a debilitating but non-life-threatening injury?

"Aha," Hanji says, briefly pausing in her monologue about Titan reproduction (he hadn't been listening in the slightest, but that's never been a deterrent) to point her spoon dangerously close to his face. "I recognise that look. You're thinking again, aren't you."

"None of your business." He pokes morosely at his dinner, and misses. The tines of his fork strike the porcelain with a rather unpleasant metallic screech that makes them both wince.

"It's not a good look on you, you know," she comments, shovelling a fragment of potato into her mouth as Levi watches with barely veiled disgust. "Thinking. You're much better off playing the role of the macho action hero, all brawn and no brain—"

"I will stab you with this butter knife," he threatens, with a kind of despondent savagery. The woman just leans on her elbow and waits, perfectly unruffled.

He chews, swallows, and after a long pause, finally admits, "Petra's birthday is coming up."

"And you're thinking about what to get her?" Hanji smirks. "Sweet."

"I'm thinking about why surface-dwellers have so much time and energy to bother with stupid things like gifts," he grumbles, spearing a chunk of broccoli with more aggression than strictly necessary.

"Well, they're a welcome distraction from the terrors of daily life, don't you think?" She pushes her goggles up her nose with a kind of practiced impatience, and continues, "I think...Petra probably would want something heartfelt. You know, something you wouldn't give to anyone else."

"I wouldn't give anyone anything, from the start."

"You know what I mean." Hanji rolls her eyes. "The gift's gotta make her feel special. Maybe something with a sort of significance, or meaning, or...oh! Something handmade? How good are you with handicrafts?" She eyes him, looking rather less hopeful than he'd like. It rankles him.

"I'm pretty good at carving," he snaps. Hanji brightens.

"Ooh. Wood?"

"Flesh." He shovels the rest of the stew into his mouth, ignoring her snort of indignation, and stands up. "Don't choke on your food, Four-Eyes."

In his time in the Underground, he'd learnt precisely two things about food: one, to defend it with your life, and two, if you chuck a bunch of ingredients into a pot and apply heat, you can call it a casserole, which is a fancy-sounding name for something that barely counts as a dish at all.

Furlan, being unable to cook for his life, had been put on permanent ingredient-gathering duty (read: theft) instead. Isabel, on the other hand, had an irritating tendency to get distracted, disappear off to fuck-knows-where with the food still on the stove, and promptly forget all about it. By the process of elimination, Levi had took over most of the cooking.

Being easy, flexible, and requiring very little attention, casserole had quickly become his signature dish. And yeah, he wouldn't call himself good by any means, but as far as he's concerned, no-one'd ever gotten food poisoning from a dish he'd made, which he counts a win.

Still, he figures that not poisoning anyone is a pretty low bar to set for a birthday dinner for his girlfriend.

For the eleventh time since entering the store, Levi wonders if he should just forget it. Get her some bauble or trinket, that glittery shit that girls always like. But against his will, Hanji's irritating voice drones in his head: something heartfelt. Something you wouldn't give to anyone else.

Levi scowls darkly at a shelf of cheese. "What the fuck's the difference between cheddar and mozzarella, anyway?" he mutters to himself, before giving up and shoving both into his basket.

He continues wandering through the store, grabbing whatever he thinks will go well together. He barely glances at the price tags as he goes, too distracted by his thoughts—does she like chickpeas? Or was it lentils? Are those different?

(Of course, he pays for his inattention dearly, when the cashier coolly informs him of his total and he almost chokes. Well, he really should've known; the storekeeper in the Underground always did seem to loathe them with an aggressive vengeance.)

Carrots—potatoes—beef. Levi measures out the ingredients carefully and scoops them into the pot, eyeing the stew bubbling cheerfully over on the stove, and allows himself a brief moment of smugness.

He's outdone himself, even if he says so himself. Everything's been planned, down to the last detail. In the morning, he'd presented Petra with a new fountain pen, a perfect decoy gift, especially since she'd mentioned earlier how she'd been needing one. He hadn't missed the flash of disappointment in her eyes—shitty Four-Eyes had been right for once, he supposes—but she'd schooled her expression into one of appropriate delight quickly enough, and exclaimed over it as necessary, and he'd known she'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

He's even timed this whole dinner thing perfectly, getting the guys to keep her back for a bit after training (which they'd agreed to, albeit with some snickering) so he could prep for the meal. She'd be in the showers now, he guesses; and now, with the brick oven all heated up and the dish nicely in place, he probably has about twenty, thirty minutes before the next step of the plan, when he'll go to retrieve her from her room under some pretense or another, lead her to the dining hall, and—

"Levi? What's going on?" Petra rubs her eyes, strolling into the room and and sniffing the air curiously. "Are you—are you cooking?"

What the fuck.

"Petra." He tries his best to block the stove, desperately searching for a way out. "You're back early. This is, uh...an experiment. For Hanji. It could blow up any second, so off you go now."

Petra does not oblige. Her eyes narrow, and she tries to peek around him. "Your experiment is stew?"

"It's not stew, it's...Titan bait," he improvises wildly, making her brows lift in disbelief. "Seriously, Petra. Go away." His eyes dart to the wall clock; he needs about fifteen more minutes, at least. "Didn't Eld...didn't the guys ask you to stay for a bit?"

She shrugs, still craning her neck to try to see the contents of the kitchen counter. There's a hint of a grin on her face now. "Auruo was bragging again about something-or-the-other, and bit his tongue, and I slipped away in the commotion. Levi, is that cake?"

"I told you, it's Titan bait. Now get out, that's an order." He tries to keep his tone cold and steely, a feat which is proving much more challenging than usual with his very pretty, very annoying girlfriend standing on tiptoe, trying her best to peek over his shoulder.

Judging by her expression of keen amusement, he fails quite spectacularly.

"Levi," his irrepressible subordinate goes, her eyes gleaming, "your cake—sorry, Titan bait—says 'Happy Birthday, Petra'."

With a frustrated exhale, he gives up trying to block her, and slumps back to the kitchen counter. Petra waits, tapping her foot, still looking thoroughly amused. Her hair is still damp from the showers, he notices. But despite the fact that she has a towel around her neck and is dressed in a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants—her standard evening attire—his breath catches in his throat. She's beautiful.

"Okay, fine," he grumbles, tearing his gaze away. "I'm cooking. It's for you. Happy birthday. You're still a brat."

She laughs, and the sound makes his lips pull into a reluctant smile, too. "I never took you for the domestic type, captain," she teases, leaning into him and winding her arms around his back. "Stew? But didn't you already give me a gift, though?"

"Casserole," he corrects. "It sounds fancier. And that was a decoy—this was supposed to be a surprise. I mean, I thought...since it's the first time you're having a birthday, well. With us, like. Together." He clears his throat, and silently wills himself not to do anything stupid and embarrassing, like—Walls forbid—blush. "Remind me to have a talk with Auruo, will you."

"Well, count me surprised," she says, leaning in and grinning up at him.

He rolls his eyes.

"Anyway. Since you're here so early," he goes, gazing at her with a look of utmost seriousness, "here. You can help to chop the onions."

Petra blinks, indignant. "Seriously?"

"Nah, I'm kidding. That's for ruining my surprise, you brat."

"...Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Happy birthday, Petra."

#rivetra #levi x petra #attack on titan #levi ackerman #petra ral #aot fanfiction #candycity writes

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makowo · 3 years

Text

Forever Deep Below Creation

This is still a work in progress, but due to my lack of posted writing in the past 3 months, I thought I'd give a sneak peek at the beginning of the fic.

Warnings: None

Characters: Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko

Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto

Words: 3k

It’s another warm night in the woods. Cicadas cast their calls to the air, and while some creatures tuck into their nests and dens, others rise to greet the darkened sky. Wing and hooves and fingers and claws grazing the sky, Brushing against the stars and cupping the face of the moon.

And here Makoto is, prepping dinner in the cottage he calls a home. His home. Their home.

He pulls out a knife from the block by the counter just as he hears the front door’s lock click. He can almost feel the burst of warm night air flooding their living room, though it is little to the warmth of the stove as it works to bring water to a boil.

He blinks, dropping his focus to turn towards his wife with a grin. “Welcome home honey!”

“Honey?” Kyoko echos, placing her bag on the coffee table. She leaves her holstered gun beside it, walking into the kitchen to check on him. “It’s unusual for you to use pet names.”

“Only if I wanna tease you.” He chuckles, and she does it right back. “Unless you prefer stuff like “babe” or “sweetheart”?”

Arms wrap around his waist, Kyoko resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

She avoids the question, and he saves that tidbit of info for later. Avoidance is not a no, after all. “Yakisoba.” He nudges the noodles around with a spoon, half-focused on it as he leans back against his wife. “Thought it might be good to have something quick tonight, y’know?”

Kyoko merely hums, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Shouldn’t you turn up the AC? You’re cold.”

“Means I can cuddle up to you to stay warm tonight though.”

“As if I’ll let you do that.” She scoffs. He can feel her smile against his skin.

“Ohh?” He goes through the motions of prepping their dinner, Kyoko stumbling along with his hasty steps with a steadfast grip. “And how are you gonna stop it?” Even if they’re on opposite ends of the bed, they always wake up with one clinging to the other. Hard not to cuddle.

She takes a minute to ruminate on it, before managing an answer. “Heater. Right between us.”

Makoto laughs. “Won’t that burn?”

“If it keeps your ice hands from touching me at 2 in the morning, then ‘m fine.”

His whine of objection couldn’t be more fake. “That’s mean.” He quickly nabs the pair of bowls set aside early on, tracing the grooves of their rims with his thumbs as he sets them out side by side. “You’re mean.”

Finally, he’s released from his lavender-scented prison as Kyoko reaches for one of the bowls, unsubtly nudging him in an attempt to get him out of the way. He stays still however, nudging her right back. “It’s still hot, Kiri-san! Gotta let it sit for a bit.” He warns with a frown.

“It can sit for a bit in my bowl.” She replies deadpan, still urging him away. And he relents, because it isn’t that big of a deal anyway but he doesn’t want to watch Kyoko burn her mouth while trying to eat again. Or just forget about it while she works.

“Then eat with me in the living room.” Makoto grabs his own bowl, getting what yakisoba she leaves behind in the pan. “And after it, we go straight to bed.” He’s not risking his work going to waste, after all.

Even with these tough terms he’s set up, Kyoko lazily nods, most likely due to still suffering from sleep deprivation. Maybe she’ll decline when she’s woken up a bit, maybe she won’t. Makoto decides to settle down on the couch and put on a movie that might distract her from it anyway.

It’s more background noise than anything, though; something about an escape room? Pretty sure he put on a sequel movie too, which turns their interest only to one another. Not that he minds.

“Would you like to go on a trip sometime in the next month?”

“Mmh, yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of food, quickly swallowing it before continuing. “What case has you going out of the country this time?” It’s not odd for Kyoko to ask if he wants to travel with her if she knows it’ll take too long for Makoto to bear.

She shakes her head, taking a bite of her food before answering. “I mean as a vacation, actually?” She replies with a tone implying that she’s questioning her own words already.

“Vacation?” He can’t help but echo, because… well, Kyoko never takes vacations! He can imagine she has a lot of days saved up because of that, but it never seems like she plans to put them to use other than for emergencies. Guess he read her wrong on that part, even if this is the first time she’s planning a legitimate vacation herself in the four years she’s been working as a detective again.

“Is it a bad time?”

“No, no!” Makoto shakes his head, not daring to let this slip by. “I’d love a vacation! It’d be nice to get out of the house.” He doesn’t really have much going on anyway, since the whole school idea didn’t really pan out. He’s just a stay at home husband now, and since Kyoko still makes enough money to support them both, he’s not actively seeking a job right now. Thus, he’s perfectly free.

Kyoko smiles. “Good. I’ve made sure to go ahead and clear up a week for ourselves, but I need to know what you might want to do.” She glances at him curiously, before quickly adding on. “Preferably not something that’s outside of Japan, I’d have trouble paying for that right now.”

Well that’s a no brainer for him, but it does narrow down his options significantly, which he happens to be thankful for. “Do you have anything in mind?” For a fleeting moment, Makoto recalls his dinner, taking a bite of it before he looks away from it and thus forgets it even exists. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really have anything in mind…” Never been one to aspire for once-in-a-lifetime thrills, like skydiving or something. He’d be happy just lounging at home the whole week, despite his earlier comment.

“I thought we could go to a nearby city then, and go sight-seeing.” Kyoko spares a glance towards the movie playing, before interest in it is once again immediately lost “Maybe in Seoul? There’s a large cave system there as well, and they’re open to caving this time of year.”

“Hm?” Makoto tries to recall what exactly that is, but he’s drawing blanks. “What’s that?”

“Well, Seoul is-”

“I know what Seoul is.” Makoto deadpans, though completely understands why she thought that was what he was talking about. He’s not the most educated person, what with the whole memory loss thing. “”I mean caving! I’ve never, uh, heard of that.”

“Ah.” Kyoko nods, setting down her bowl on the coffee table. “Apologies. It is rather self-explanatory however; we just go and explore a cave system with a small group.” She shrugs, stifling a yawn. “I thought it might be fun to do something like that together. It’s rare for a person to do, wouldn’t be too dangerous, and we’d be together the whole time.”

That does sound pretty cool, he’ll admit. He’s never really gone into a cave before, if he excludes the ones that they’d have to hide in during… ah, well, it’d just be nice. Doing something kind of thrilling. He imagines it’s thrilling, at least.

“I think it’d be fun!” He finally chirps, leaning over to rest his head on Kyoko’s shoulder. “It’s been a while since we’ve done something together, I’m sure it’d be a good time for us both.” And he’s pretty sure they don’t have any trauma tied to caves, which is a definite plus! Unless they count claustrophobia? Neither of them have shown signs of that though, so they’ll hopefully be fine. Hopefully.

As if she were able to sense his worry (which he doesn’t doubt that she can), Kyoko places a hand on his leg, stopping its worried bouncing. He hadn’t even noticed it doing that. “Are you sure?” She asks lightly, brow furrowed with worry. “”It can be dangerous, you know. There’s only so much a tour guide can do to make naturally made caves safe to enter.”

Makoto frowns, now actually worried. “Then why would you recommend it?” He asks, very quietly.

Kyoko takes a while to respond. In fact, she doesn’t respond until she’s actually finished her dinner, as well as his. It was getting cold so he may as well let her have it. “Do some looking, and if you have a better idea, tell me.” And then she heads to bed, because that’s just. A perfectly fine way of ending a conversation.

Makoto trudges on after her after about an hour of thinking (mostly lack thereof, with the television being such a terribly convenient and easy distraction) on the couch. Unlike most nights though, where the room is pitch black, her back turned from the door so as to not catch the stray rays of lights that he’s forgotten to turn off, it’s… actually still pitch black in there. But after a moment of letting his eyes adjust, he catches Kyoko’s alarmingly bright gaze cutting through the gloom.

“Can’t sleep?” He mutters as he stumbles through the dark, going off of his recollection of the room’s layout, reduced to something of barely any use through the haze of sleepiness tugging at his being.

“I can.” She replies slowly, watching him not unlike how a cat would watch their owner. Not that she or their relationship in general compares to that; she just has that… “look”. Like she knows everything. “Was just waiting for you to come to bed.”

If he’s being honest, it’s kind of exciting. It’s the look she gives when her interest is upon him entirely, something that earns a flattered blush every time. “Thank you then.” He chirps, before crawling into bed like a lizard wriggling beneath the warm sands of a desert, except much less gracefully.

He almost expects nothing to happen, oddly enough. He should have known Kyoko was waiting for a reason.

A warmth presses up against his back, and a hum against his ear. “Don’t have to go in until noon tomorrow.” Kyoko huffs. He can just sense her smile when he shivers. “So… we could…” something presses between his legs, and teases just the right spot, “have some time to ourselves, maybe…?”

Makoto is a weak man, and especially weak for his wife. And thus, all he can do is scrounge up what remains of his energy, roll over, and let the franticness of their motions do the rest. ------------------------------------

It’s quite a hike to get to the cave they’ve been looking at. The route is safe, spacious, and short for the most part; it’s apparently a tour “good for beginners”, and while Makoto believes their caving adventures will begin and end with this one, it’s nice to know that this place doesn’t have any curveballs. Or spike-filled areas. Or tunnels one can only crawl through. Or maybe even fractures.

“Stop worrying.” Kyoko demands, his thoughts coming to a harsh stop. He manages not to be totally thrown off, following hastily after his wife as they trudge along a pebble-filled path.

He sighs when he catches up, glancing around. Just west there’s Tokyo, bustling with life, but it’s far enough only to serve as a backdrop to the hill-covered fields they’re in. They follow a path lined by thin ropes tied to sticks in the ground every other step, as despite the lack of actually dangerous areas nearby, there’s a lot of… well, area. The Tragedy changed a lot of the landscape, more so than most would believe.

Stopping his mind from wandering too far again, Makoto directs his attention ahead. They have a few other people with them, much more diverse in their body type than he assumes the average would be for much more difficult to traverse caves. They talk amongst themselves, all of them clearly going with someone they know for the trip. Ahead of them, the tour guides walk, though he can’t tell what they’re doing. He doubts it to be much at all, really.

“Are you excited?” He finally asks, careful not to speak loudly. He doesn’t want to draw much attention from their peers here, they’re lucky enough to have only garnered a few curious looks.

“Of course.” Kyoko replies, just as quiet. “I’m sorry it had to be delayed so much, cases just kept piling up.”

Makoto scoffs. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re able to help people.” Adjusting to keep a good hold on his backpack, he reaches over to grasp Kyoko’s hand. She’s changed her gloves today. Much rougher. “Even if it’s not another year until we get a chance like this again, I’m satisfied.”

He hopes for a smile, or the most likely quirk of the lips she gives when beyond the walls of their home. He earns neither.

“I’m not.” She tightens her grip, tugging him forwards. “Come on. We’re falling behind.”

Makoto nods, silent as he follows her up the steep incline, and silent still until they come to the entrance to the cave.

He can only think of an open maw when he sees the entrance. It sits neatly above the ground, embedded into the side of the hill’s peak, moss creeping over the exposed rock. Various plants and flowers bloom from cracks in the walls he can see, reaching out towards the sunlight beyond. But as he looks upon the entrance, the teasing glimpse it shows of its surely vast depths, he can’t help but think they’re trying to escape the dark rather than gain any sunlight.

The heat must be getting to him.

“Alright everyone!” One of the guides chirps, clapping their hands to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s do a quick check to make sure everyone has what they need!”

Makoto remembers all their supplies, and part of him knows that he has everything, but anxiety urges him to check once more. Plus, he needs to actually put some of it on now. That too.

He crouches down and pulls his backpack around, trying not to focus on the cave. Instead, he mentally lists off each item as he finds it; helmet, gloves, boots, first aid kit, and a flashlight. Not much really, and he’s more than happy about that fact.

Makoto sighs, putting on each item he needs and putting away the rest. He’s careful about the gloves in particular as he puts them on; the helmet may have a light that could break if he’s not cautious, but Kyoko picked these out for him specifically before this trip. She has very strong opinions about them, and apparently these are the best pair for this sort of task that she could find. And they must be, they’re very comfortable! A perfect fit even, despite the fact that she gave them to him on the way here without any warning. He can’t imagine what they must have cost.

After checking for his caving suit and quickly realizing that he already put it on before making this trek, Makoto shoves his old shoes and socks into the back, hopping back up just as everyone else seems to be handed something.

“Now, before we head in, I want you all to get a good look at this map.” The guide says as they hand a sheet of paper to each group. “Even if this is a short trip, and we know this place like the backs of our hands, there’s a few turns here and there!”

Kyoko takes the map they’re given, Makoto peering at it from over her shoulder, having to crane his neck to get a good look. It doesn’t seem like too much, thankfully; there’s a meander or two, but none on the main path, thank the gods. He’d prefer not to have to do any crawling during this!

“It’s a straight shot, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, resting his chin on his wife’s shoulder.

She merely huffs, reaching back to thread her fingers through his hair. Despite the unsatisfying feeling of the gloves she’s wearing right now, he eagerly leans into the touch. “Yes. I’ve seen pictures of the cave as well, and it appears to not be very dangerous, unless one was actually being reckless. Should take about twenty minutes, at most.”

Makoto grins, wrapping his arms around Kyoko’s waist. She makes another sound, something like a noncommittal grunt, but doesn’t nudge him away as he expects. It’s nice. “And after this we go eat at Stellar Cafe.”

“We ate there last week.” She quickly reminds him, paying only a partial bit of attention to what those in front of them are saying. Something about the first aid kits, nothing very important.

“Too bad.” He gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “I like their food, and the service is nice.”

He can hear her stifle a laugh as she pulls away. “You like their curry. There’s perfectly good curry elsewhere.” She reaches into her own backpack, pulling out a walkie talkie. “Now get your radio out.”

“Don’t you think this is kind of overboard?” He pulls it out anyway of course, making sure his is connected to hers. “They never recommended these for caving, at least not on the sites I looked at.” Seems that most of the time people are expected to stay together anyway, if there’s more than one person at all. He’s surprised Kyoko decided to do this.

“Can’t ever be too safe.” Is all she says, before looking to the cave. “It’s time to go.”

Makoto follows her gaze, and sees the rest of the group already clambering over rocks as they enter the hole. “Ah.” He pauses, choking on nothing for a moment so fleeting he can’t even react. “Yeah.”

If he showed any hesitation, Kyoko does not acknowledge it. Instead, she walks ahead, and with heavy steps he pretends are eager, Makoto follows her into the dark.

------------------------------------

and that's it! quite a bit, and definitely not the best writing in the world, but im very proud of it so far! if you can then please rb this and give your thoughts, i do this for free but there's a reason i post my fics at all, which is validation <3 basically what keeps me going and able to continue writing at all, actually.

#danganronpa #makoto naegi #naegi makoto #kyoko kirigiri #kirigiri kyoko #naegiri #writing #fics #this has taken. a While #ofc this isnt the final product but this cuts off right before the horror parts start. which im very excited for #this fic has been a long time coming and im SO excited to do it <3 aaaaa

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