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#those probably should’ve been my first tags if I’d thought about this
randomyuu · 8 months
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the way it follows you home, the stories i never told
My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.
Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???
FUCK.
I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH
So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???
This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.
Fic info:
Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told
Author: @voxofthevoid
Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou
(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)
Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!
The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha
SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!
Also for the comics, read from right to left please!
From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.
Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.
CHAPTER 1:
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Whooo. Whooooooooo—
Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.
Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?
I lost it.
Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?
Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.
Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v
CHAPTER 2:
This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.
Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao
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The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:
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Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.
This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.
Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”
I just—
AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh
But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_
For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)
CHAPTER 3:
We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao
I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?
I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_
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I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.
AND FINALLY.
A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.
And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭
I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3
Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.
However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D
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When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol
Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v
And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v
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AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS
Have I told you I love this fic?
…I probably have.
Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲゚*
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patchworkgargoyle · 5 months
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OC Fic: all the words of the dead
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So, in between working on my steddie big bang, I've been descending deeper and deeper into brainrot over my OC, Dominik (tag: goth babygirl dom).
Very long story short, we put him into a mafia!au and killed him off and then developed the slowest slow burn romance for him after the fact.
This is the letter he leaves in his will for @steves-strapcollection's OC, Sam. You'll find Sam's letter in response here (please read it, it's so so so good).
Anyway, I'm gonna go cry over them now. Have this totally out of context.
Rating: M || CW: main character death implied
Title from Bad Luck Again - The Rural Alberta Advantage
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Hi Sam, my darling.
You know, I thought I’d only ever have one letter to write. When I got old enough to start needing a will, I only had Vinny to write to. I love Lucky and Gia, but Vinny and me… thick as thieves.
Then I come back from my enforced vacation, and suddenly he has a fiance who turns out to be my best friend. Two letters, then. Two people to care about with my whole, shrivelled little heart.
The third and fourth ones are new. Unexpected.
It was a fucking frustration and an honour to teach your daughter, though I wish almost as much as you do, I think, that she and her brother never got within a hundred miles of this world. For their sakes, and for yours. I tried my best to help prepare her. I hope it’s enough. But she's tough as fuck, and she’s got you and those two boys of hers looking out for her, though, so I’m sure she’ll be okay.
She’s the third letter.
This is the midst of the fourth. The last.
I hope that you knew you’d get a letter when the lawyers started handing them out. I hope you didn’t doubt it.  It’s okay if you did.
I’m sorry you’re getting one. I don’t know what happened to me, obviously, but I probably went and fucked up something somewhere and now I’ve paid for it. You know how it is.
I hope you weren’t there when I died. If you were, I’m sorry. So sorry. We spend so much time together now that it might be possible you saw what got me but I don’t want that on your shoulders. They carry too much already. You should put some of that down sometime. Give some of it to me
Don't let Vinny and Ziah waste time and money on a big, useless funeral for me. And try talking to them, if you need someone. I know you. You're not as stoic and unshakable as you'd like us to believe.
This is har    Fuck. I hate this.
I’d say I don’t remember when I knew my feelings for you were more than just being really horny and very fond of you but that’s a fucking lie. It’s been about a year now. I'd so cruelly sent you home for the night, but insisted I walk you to your truck, and we stopped to chat because we can't seem to get enough of each other I'm a greedy motherfucker at heart and didn't want you to go yet. I said something that made you laugh, really laugh. Can’t remember what the fuck I said. All I remember is what your face looks like when you smile like that, what you sound like when you’re happy. I had to kiss you then or I'd do something incredibly stupid otherwise. Also asked you to stay the night for the first time.
You’re one handsome bastard, you know that, right? It’s deeply unfair. You look even better when you're between my thighs.
You’re sleeping in my bedroom while I write this. No one’s ever slept in my bed with me. But you've done it so many times now I lost track. When I’m done with this fucking letter, I’m going to crawl back under the covers with you and feel safe there.
You’re such a surprise, Sam. I never thought I could have something like you. I feel indescribably lucky that I could. We should’ve had a normal life together, but I wouldn’t change this. Never.
There’s something for you, other than the cheque the lawyers’ll hand you. Ziah will know where it is. Don’t take it the wrong way. I wasn’t planning any big surprises. It’s just something to remember me by because I wasn’t sure what else you’d want. You can sell it if you don’t care for it, the sapphire’s worth something at least, small as it is. I told Vinny to let you take anything from my apartment you might want.
It’s cold over here at my desk, I should be in bed with you     gotta write another fucking version of this, christ
I don’t know how to end this. What a fucking mess.
I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you even though I don’t know what it’s like. Never been in love before. But it feels like this, I think, like wanting to be around you all the time. Craving you. Trusting you. Sharing what life we have. Choosing to let you in over and over.
Vulnerability. Being changed.
You don’t have to love me too. I’m not going to fucking guilt trip you into loving me, post-mortem. This is just some kind of re-realisation of mortality based confessional at this point. You won't see this version of the letter anyway. You'll get one with fewer mistakes.
Do you think we have something, at least? Are we something? I hope we are.
I’ll tell you I love you in the morning, if I’m not a coward.
Forgive me if I was.
Yours,
   -Dom
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[[READ SAM'S LETTER HERE]]
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eriquin · 10 months
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Characters Out of Context Tag
Rules:
Include one character quote — of your choosing ⁠— from each chapter of your WIP (or as many chapters as you'd like)
Give absolutely no context, save for what's between two parts of an interrupted sentence, should that occur. You may mention who said it.
Have fun, no pressure!
Tagged by @j-1173
Tagging: @kedreeva, @scarcrossdlvrs, @steves-strapcollection
It's not actually broken up into proper chapters yet, but here's from some sections of my steddie bigbang project. Waiting to post this until the embargo is lifted.
Section 1:
“I think I can do it,” he said. ... “Will your parents be freaked out if I strip in your kitchen?”
Section 2:
“‘Course you don’t,” he said. “How about ‘not your circus, not your monkeys’? Do you know that one?”
Section 3:
“He’s pretty skittish. Though, I don’t blame him. I hate this place.”
Section 4:
“Drugged. Tired. Usual Saturday morning, honestly.”
Section 5:
“Come on and join us. It’ll be a team-building activity, like Coach is always telling us.”
Section 6:
“Just so that someone in the school knows that you’re not here for the rest of the day,” ... “You know. In case anyone asks. Then you’d have an excused absence, right?”
Section 7:
“Do you have your Swiss Army knife on you?”
Section 8:
“Is that a trick question?” ... “I didn’t think you knew how to make those.”
Section 9:
“I don’t think it occurred to him not to do that, you know? Like, that’s probably what his mom does for all her coats or something, so he just did that.”
Section 10:
“Shit, I probably shouldn’t joke about that when there are cops around, should I?”
Section 11:
“Like, I thought I would be mad, but I’m actually okay with it.”
Section 12:
“Oh, don’t give me the puppy eyes,” ... “You did your best, I’m sure.” 
Section 13:
“Uh. The author was more creative... No, wait. Concerned. Concerned with advantages. Uh. Appearances, than—”
Section 14:
“I might’ve made that up,” he said. “Maybe I was just annoyed by how slowly you were typing.”
Section 15:
“And I was on my way! I just got waylaid by rogues, as you were so quick to notice.”
Section 16:
“Definitely not,” he said. “Actually, it has nothing to do with him at all. I was just distracting you little shits for the car ride.”
Section 17:
“Good, ‘cause that’s about the extent of my sports metaphors,” ... “And you really should join out of respect for them, because it truly pained me to even go that far.”
Section 18:
"It’s not cheating. There wasn’t anything in your rules that said we couldn’t work together.”
Section 19:
“You know, this would all go faster if you would just skip past the part where you bitch and moan about what I’m telling you and just accept the fact that it needs to be done."
Section 20:
“Whatever. You don’t have a date tonight or you wouldn’t be asking me about D&D.” 
Section 21:
“I don’t like the way he ambushed you with that,” she said. “We should’ve been able to have a reasonable discussion about what to do.” 
Section 22:
“Okay first of all, I don’t rehearse those,” ... “I am an expert at improvisational public speaking, thank you very much. I can latch onto a topic and expound upon it for as long as necessary to get my point across.”
Section 23:
“Maybe if the things you say weren’t usually nonsense, I’d listen.”
Section 24:
“And hey, you can always use me as an example of a bigger fuckup. That’s what I’m here for, yeah?”
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atomic-insomnia · 1 year
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15 Interview Questions (for Amelia)
thanks for tagging me, @dotr-rose-love!
1. Are you named after anyone?
Eh, not directly.  My mother thought it sounded “queenly;” same with my sister Matilda’s name.  She was very concerned about that, my mother, sounding royal.  You should’ve heard the airs she could put on.
2. When was the last time you cried?
*sarcastic grin*  I’m not much for weepers or sob stories.  It’d smear my mascara.
[Probably not since she was a kid or at least a young teenager; keeping her emotions hidden is one thing she considers deeply important.  It’s partially to protect herself from being vulnerable, but at this point in her life she’s just made it a habit and struggles to honestly open up about anything.]
3. Do you have kids?
Oh Jesus Christ, I hope not!  Haha!
4. Do you use sarcasm?
Noo, never.
5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?
The shiny bits.  *snort*  No, if I’m being honest, I look for their general mood--like, is this someone who’s open to a conversation?  Are they trying to go unnoticed?  Do they seem the type to fly off the handle?
Now, what I do with that information, that all depends on the situation at hand.
6. What’s your eye color?
Nothin’ special, just...brown.  Same old same old.
7. Scary movies or happy endings?
Hm...I’d say the two should go together.  The happy ending’s worth nothing if you don’t get your thrills & chills leading up to it, and why put up with the scares if you don’t get a happy ending?
...But that’s what movies are for.  Real life usually doesn’t play by those rules.
8. Any special talents?
Any sort of special talent you wish, darling.  One look at you, and *snaps fingers* I can tell you all your most hidden secrets, your dreams, your desires--and your future.  For a fee, of course.  *wink*
[Probably her most useful talents are reading people--which is what all that ‘psychic’/’i can see your dreams’ nonsense really is--and adaptability.  Find an unpredictable situation, then figure out a plan so you can say “mmm, just as I predicted, the Spirits were right”]
9. Where were you born?
Good Ol’ Harlem, New York New York.  Nothing much to say here that hasn’t been said before by wordier people than me.  There’s a lot for the newspapers to get rich suckers crying and wringing their hands about “the plight of the poor.”  But there’s more than that.  Sometimes I see people say the reason we’ve got so many artists is because art needs suffering--but that also means we’ve got people willing to turn suffering into art.  Doesn’t it?
...Whoops, got off topic.  Ignore me, haha, I must love to hear the sound of my own voice.
10. What are your hobbies?
I’m out every every night I can be, looking for someplace new to dance!  If I really need a quiet night, I go to the moving pictures or a vaudeville theater for a few acts.  Usually I only want action, but lately I’ve needed a break more and more often...
11. Have you any pets?
He prefers to be called an “assistant.”
[From across the room:  “I heard that.”]
No, but I’ve never been one for animals in the house.  ...That, and I can barely keep myself fed, I don’t want to be the one keeping something else alive.
12. What sports do you play/have played?
I’ve played baseball, by which I mean, I’ve swung a stick at a rubber ball and run around the pieces of cardboard we plopped down on the street for ‘bases.’  That was when I was a kid, way back when.  Nowadays I only pay attention to sports to keep up with the betting odds.
13. How tall are you?
...Tall enough.  What’s it to you?
[Somewhat of a sensitive subject as she’s usually as tall as or taller than most of the men around her]
14. Favorite subject in school?
Oh, easy!  Arithmetic.  I know, I don’t look the type.  Of course, I got a lot more use of it outside of school--betting odds for the local race track, trade value of chewing gum vs. rouge powder...my teacher always told me the only value math had for a woman was budgeting household expenses.  My household is a party of two and we both take care of ourselves, so I guess that means my teacher wasted her time, hm?  I’m not bitter--genuinely, I’m not--I just can’t imagine wanting a life where you end up as either a repressed housewife, or a schoolmarm who’s jealous of the future repressed housewives in your class.
15. Dream job?
To not have to work, haha.  Oh, I’d find a way to keep busy and fill my days--could you imagine spending all day lounging on a beach somewhere?  They act like it’s a dream--yeah, because you’d fall asleep soon enough.  No, but, look at what the ritzy set gets up to with all their money and free time--parties, vacations, and all the drama of who’s sleeping with who’s wife!  Maybe instead of being one of them, I’d rather be the reporter selling them out to the tabloids.
Oh, I’m kidding.  I just want the free champagne.
--
I’ll leave an open tag for anyone who wants to fill out these questions for their OCs!
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frogtanii · 3 years
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iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.
the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.
wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.
hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.
it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.
iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.
over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.
hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.
he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.
god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.
“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...
oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.
hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”
the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”
“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.
“look, i-“
“iwa-chan, i’m-“
they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.
hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”
toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”
he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”
iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.
“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”
all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.
a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.
“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.
they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—
“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”
the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.
“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.
iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.
hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”
and then he was gone.
toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.
apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.
you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.
“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”
toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”
you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.
“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.
inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.
you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.
“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.
he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.
later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.
dear yn,
i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.
i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.
you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.
uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.
sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.
he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.
anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.
take care of yourself,
iwaizumi hajime
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℗ poker face
so... this is it
series masterlist
(●’◡’●)ノ
an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
Text
The Wrong Idea | Lee Bodecker x reader
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summary: you weren’t exactly a rebel in the eyes of the law, but that didn’t mean you cared for the corrupt, alcoholic town sheriff.  and that certainly didn’t mean you would care at all for him marrying your mother.  if only you’d known how much worse it could get...
word count: 4.5k
warnings: smut!! (heavy dubcon/noncon), age gap (reader is 19), stepcest, loss of virginity, pain kink, creampie kink, infidelity, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, choking, slapping, daddy kink, authority kink, subtle ddlg themes?, reader’s mom being toxic af
You’d never cared for the Sheriff.  Even you, being generally a well-behaved young woman, thought he was a little too intense and a little too corrupt.  Up until now, you’d assumed your mother agreed with you on that, because she never protested to your complaints about Sheriff Bodecker and his ‘fascist reign of terror’ as you called it.  Apparently that was a poor assumption, though.
“You… what?!”
“I never told you we were seein’ each other because I knew you had your childish rebellion against him and his police force,” your mother explained with a demeaning eyeroll.  “But now that we’re engaged, I can’t hide it anymore.”
“How long has this been going on?” you asked quietly, still in shock at what you were hearing— and unable to take your eyes off of the sparkling diamond wrapped around her finger.
“Oh, I’d say… about two months now,” she decided.
“Two—” you stopped and started over, so bewildered that you couldn’t finish your original sentence.  “You’re engaged after two months?”
“Don’t make that face at me, you look so ugly when you scowl like that,” she frowned.  Of course, she could never miss an opportunity to nag you.  “He’s a respectable man, and he treats me well.  The wedding is in three weeks— and he’s generous enough to let you live with us after that.  Says there’s a spare bedroom for you in his house.”
“His… his house…” you slurred, suddenly feeling light-headed.  “I’m… we’re moving…?”
“Yes, honey, and with your work ethic it’ll take you the whole three weeks to pack up, so you should start now,” she informed you with that cruel, fake smile of hers.
She walked away as you sat down on the couch, staring off into space, trying to comprehend what you just heard.  It’s not like you thought your mother was flawless or anything, or that you and her had a perfect relationship, but you thought she would’ve been a little more… gentle about all this.  She could do better than him anyways!  But she didn’t care about that, only money and status.  You could almost laugh at her small-mindedness to think the Sheriff of a nothing-town like Knockemstiff was actually plentiful in either of those things, but right now you couldn’t laugh.  You couldn’t even cry as you packed your things and said goodbye to the home you’d known your whole life.  You were just numb.
//
You couldn’t look him in the eye when you arrived at his house, duffel bags in hand and shoes stained with the dry red dirt of summer.  It was nicer than your old place, and if it were anyone else’s you’d say it had charm, but everything was tainted because you knew it was his.  You could sort of tell that this had been his bachelor pad for a while, but it had a half-assed attempt at hominess with the rug in the living room and a centerpiece on the kitchen table.  He even had a TV, presumably funded by bribes and all his other nefarious dealings— meaning you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to watch it.
“Nice to meet ya, properly,” Lee greeted, though his monotone didn’t come across as particularly impassioned.
“Thank you, Sheriff,” you mumbled quickly, hoping to get this conversation over with.
“You don’t have to call me Sheriff anymore, you know.  Not in the house, at least.”
You nodded but said nothing, following him as he motioned for you and moved into the hallway.  You trailed behind him, noticing the eerie lack of any personal effects on the walls (no family photos, apparently, and not much of a family to photograph in the first place from what you’d heard), and stopped when he reached the door at the end.
“This is your room,” Lee informed you stiffly.  Opening the door, you were horrified by the assault on your eyes of pink.  Pink everything: pink wallpaper, a pink fuzzy quilt, pink bedframe.  There were even assorted stuffed animals on the bed, disturbingly enough.
“When my mother told you she had a daughter, did she not mention that I was grown?”
“You may be nineteen, honey, but you’re nowhere near grown,” he scowled.  “She didn’t tell me she had a daughter until two days before the weddin’.  This is what I managed to... improvise, since then.”
You almost had sympathy for him, just in that you two were both victims of your mother’s eccentricity.  Almost.  
“Must’ve inherited your expensive taste from your ma,” he frowned.  “Sorry, princess—” the nickname made his lips curl like the word itself tasted sour— “but this’ll have to do.”
“Oh, I’m nothing like her,” you sneered back, “cause I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”
“What are you two chatting about?” your mother’s voice called from the kitchen.
Both of you answered at the same time: “Nothing!” 
With a grimace, you dragged your bag into the room and shut the door in his face.  It was those little acts of rebellion that had to tide you over.  You weren’t audacious enough to do anything actually cruel, or illegal, but you weren’t going to make this any easier for him.
At first it was just refusing to leave your room.  That worked for a week, until you realized you were going to starve to death.  So then the only times you saw him were at the dinner table, which you made into a protest by pretending he didn’t exist and refusing to answer his questions.  You occasionally relented when he asked you to pass something from your side of the table, but you never looked at him while you did it.  
He didn’t seem angry or sad about your determination to avoid him, if anything it seemed like he was happy to pretend you weren’t there either.  And that should’ve made it easier, but for some reason it bothered you even more.  You realized that maybe his attention did matter to you, even though it was negative attention that you were hoping to inspire, but you knew that was ridiculous and you tried to fight it.  Still, for all your plans to never see him, you sure did think about him a lot.  You thought about where he might be, so you could be somewhere else.  You thought about what he must be doing at work, and how he was probably continuing to be a nasty mean drunk as frequently as possible.  You wondered if he and your mother were making love just across the house, although you were lucky enough to never hear anything.  Just knowing that could be happening made you feel sick, even though you realized it was none of your business.  
You sometimes found yourself listening for it at night, just in case.
//
Your mother had decided to spend her new husband’s money on a trip, but the man himself couldn’t tag along— too much work to do, apparently.  The prospect of being left alone with him was nightmare fuel, but you didn’t even try to ask her to stay… you knew she wouldn’t listen.  She’d been totally absorbed in her own world since the wedding, seeming to be very fulfilled by the social role of ‘Sheriff’s wife’ to the point that she had lost all interest in her former position as ‘your mom’.  
There was a balance to the silence with her gone, though.  You avoided him, he avoided you; it was a tense truce, but a survivable one.  At least without her, nobody was going to try to make you two get along.  Friday night was different, though.  This time when he came home from work, you knew you were stuck with him until Monday morning.  That thought made you realize that you needed to get out and you didn’t care if you weren’t dressed for it.  It was hot, and it was just a walk so nobody was going to see you in this miniskirt anyway, right?
Too bad Lee was sitting on the couch, still in his uniform, not giving you any mind but likely to harass you before you could make it outside.  You figured if you just walked casually enough, he wouldn’t even notice, so you made your way towards the door.
“You’re not going out like that,” he announced suddenly, seemingly without even looking up from his newspaper.
“Says who?” you deflected quickly with a raised brow.  It wasn’t that you wanted to pick a fight, but you just couldn’t understand why he would even care what you were wearing.
“Says the guy who doesn’t want you to give all the neighborhood boys the wrong idea.”
“What idea?!” you asked, crossing your arms.  He shot you a look, quickly raking in your body and outfit which made you feel more observed than you cared for.
“The idea that you’re a slut,” he explained coldly.
You gulped at his words but tried to keep a poker face.  You didn’t let it get this far just to give up.  You were so sick of his shit; what made him think he could boss you around when he’d never even tried to get to know you?
“What makes you assume that’s the wrong idea?” you shot back, fighting the nervousness in your voice.
You hadn’t expected him to stand up instantly, the coffee table wobbling a bit when his knee bumped into it.
“The fuck did you say?” he hissed.
With his teeth bared at you he looked like a predator, and you felt like small, helpless prey.  You tried to muster some of your former confidence, but everything came out shaky and weak.  “I— I said that maybe it’s not the wrong ide—”
He pounced, crossing the room and slamming you back against the wall, a hand at each shoulder; you instantly cowered, shrinking back and turning your face away from him as far as you could.  You never thought he’d put his hands on you like this.  Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were surprised you could hear his hoarse whisper.
“Watch your tone with me.  I’m not kidding around.”
“I’m an adult,” you weakly fought back, “I can do what I want.”
“Not in my fuckin’ house you can’t!” he bellowed.
For some reason, it all hit you at once.  All the emotions you’d been suppressing since your mother had gotten engaged— all the anger and fear and betrayal and indignation, they came bubbling up before you could stop them.  
“I don’t even want to be in your ugly fucking house!” you cried in response.  “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you!  You’re a fascist and a tyrant and a pig!”
You expected him to get more aggressive but he suddenly stilled.  It was the scariest anger, that outwardly-calm type that made your blood go cold.
“Go to your room.”
You didn’t question it, turning to walk away (any excuse to get away from him, right?), but you didn’t expect him to follow you in and shut the door behind the both of you.
You were paralyzed with fear as he stepped past you and sat on your bed.  It was sort of strange as you realized you’d never seen him in your room before.  He stood out against the somewhat childish decorations, but you were in no mood to appreciate the humor of the situation as he patted his knee.
“Lay across my lap.  Don’t make me tell you twice.”
He couldn’t possibly be doing what I think he’s doing, could he? you wondered to yourself, but did as he asked.  You realized you’d never been so close to him before, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes.  He smelled like cologne and booze, although you didn’t think he’d actually had much to drink yet today— at least compared to his normal habits.  It was almost worse to think that he wasn’t acting on drunkenness now.
“It’s prob’ly too late for it, but you are in serious need of discipline, young lady.”
You had no idea what he was talking about, but your body reacted to it differently than you expected.
His fingers slipped between the top of your skirt and your skin, having to pull pretty hard to get it down due to how tight it was.  You bit your lip and hoped he wouldn’t notice your arousal, but as your pussy was exposed, you could feel the breeze from the ceiling fan and you knew you were undeniably wet.  You didn’t know why, but you were.
“Count them for me,” he instructed coldly and before you could ask what you were counting, he brought his hand down firmly.  You felt his wedding ring in the slap and it made you feel a little sick.
“O-one,” you stammered.
He delivered four more, alternating cheeks, and you tried not to react with visible pain.  But as the intensity increased, you realized that not reacting might’ve actually been making it worse.  Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when the eighth made your whole body lurch forward from the force.
“Eight!” you squealed, but both of you noticed the way you pushed your hips forward.  Unintentional as it may have been, you were trying to rub yourself on his thigh, desperate to be touched where it felt like all the energy of your body had focused.  You were sure you’d never been so horny before, and now your clit was nearly throbbing.  What the fuck is wrong with me?!
He quickly delivered the final two slaps before grabbing your neck, hoisting you up until you were on your knees before him.  He examined your face closely and you tried to keep your lip from shaking.
“You’re worse than I thought,” he hissed.  “You are in dire need of a punishment.  You should thank me for going so easy on you so far.”
You realized when his grip on your jaw tightened that he was being literal.  “Thank you, for going easy on me…”
“Where’d that fire go, huh?  Guess you’re all talk,” he laughed.  
He roughly shoved his fingers into your mouth, moaning lowly as your tongue rubbed against the pads of his fingers.  “This fuckin’ mouth.  You just don’t know when to keep it shut, do you?  Come on baby, open up.  I’ve got a better use for it than your fuckin’ disrespectful attitude.”
He used his free hand to work on his belt right in front of your face, and your eyes went wide.
“Don’t act so surprised sweetheart,” he said with a hint of irritation, “this is exactly what you’re asking for.”
You gasped a bit when his cock was freed from his trousers, springing up and already red at the tip.  You’d never seen one this close before and it was intimidating in every way.
“Like what you see?  You’re so wet for it,” he purred.  You tried to speak but words abandoned you. 
It was all a blur as he held your mouth open and shoved his cock inside— it tasted like skin and salt, and the size made your chapped lips crack until you worried they would bleed.  His moans were deep and gravelly, making your skin break out into goosebumps as he pumped smoothly into your pliant mouth.  He slapped your face a few times, not quite hard but plenty strong enough to make it sting.  You winced with each impact, the tears which had welled from your gagging finally falling down and dripping from your chin.
“Suck on it, princess, like a popsicle… fuck yeah, like that,” he groaned, and your mind resisted obeying him but your body was completely at his mercy.  “Aw baby, ya look so good chokin’ on my cock.  Is that what you were gonna go do in this slutty little outfit you’ve got on?”
You tried to shake your head but he was holding you down, not even giving you a chance to breathe.  His protruding stomach rubbed against your forehead when his cock was this deep in your throat, and the disgust and fear somehow made your arousal stronger.
He let you go, finally, and you pulled back with a gasp and a cough.  You weren’t given much reprieve, though, as he started to tug at your blouse as well.
“No, wait,” you whimpered, weakly trying to bat his hands away.
“Wait?  I think I’ve been waiting long enough,” he growled.  “Your ma’s a fuckin’ tease, hasn’t touched me since I got her that ugly fuckin’ ring.  Let’s hope you learn from her mistakes.”
Your blouse was torn open and tossed aside, leaving you only in the pulled-up skirt and your bra.  Reaching up to cover yourself, you were discouraged by the shockingly-gentle brush of his hands. 
“Don’t cover yourself, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured.  His gaze made you feel hot all over, and it wasn’t just because of the summer weather outside.  “Nobody ever looked at ya before?”
You shook your head, looking down at the floor.  A finger under your chin guided you to look up at him.  
“Nobody ever touched ya before?” he pressed, his stare boring into you.  You shook your head again.  “Fuck,” he whispered, but then he started to smile proudly.  “Knew you were a good girl, princess, you just didn’t wanna act like one for some reason.  You gonna be good for me now?” 
You nodded weakly, swallowing as you tried to comprehend what was happening.  
“Then I’ll be good to you, too,” he promised darkly, a shimmer in his eyes that made you throb between your thighs.  “Come get on the bed, pretty girl.”
You almost resisted, but it was your need driving you now, not your mind.  You had been waiting too long to let a boy touch you, and now that a man had touched you, you felt all kinds of wrong and yet craved more.  Before you had even finished sitting down beside him, he was slipping off your bra and pushing you back onto the quilt.
“Sheriff!” you yelped instinctively, a little disoriented as he started to climb on top of you.
He chuckled, clearly amused by your unexpected appeal to authority.  “Wanna know a secret, sweetheart?  Wanna know the real reason I said you didn’t have to call me that anymore?”  He leaned down, his breath hot and moist against your neck when he spoke: “Because it made me so fuckin’ hard when you said it.”
He pressed his cock, still wet with your spit, against your thigh; maybe just for emphasis, a reminder that he was still hard and wasn’t anywhere near done with you.
“What are you gonna do to me…?” you asked weakly, your voice so wavering and broken that you cringed just hearing it.  
“Just gonna make you feel good, princess,” he smiled, and before you could ask what that would entail, he was groping your tits in his large, calloused hands.  A low groan echoed in his chest, and you tried not to squirm as he teased your nipples between his fingers.  They were already hardening from the moment he’d touched you, but somehow it was getting even worse when he played with them, watching your face and surely seeing the shame you wore there.
His hands trailed lower, rubbing your waist, your thighs… you found yourself anticipating that he’d remove your panties, so much so that when he did, you quickly lifted your hips to help him slide them off.  You couldn’t believe how easily you were letting him do this to you.
“I can tell how much you want it,” he taunted lowly as the fabric slid down your legs and was tossed to the floor.  “I can smell how much you want it.”  He growled a little before diving in, licking a thick stripe through your folds and taking a moment right at the end to tickle your clit with his tongue.  “So fuckin’ sweet, princess; I knew you would be,” he praised.  You were forced to wonder how long he’d been thinking about this.
The noises were beyond obscene and you felt your face burning— but there was a burning in your gut, too, and shooting down your legs.  You’d never felt like this before (being a very good girl who never even touched herself), but you knew that if he didn’t stop, you would come.  And you really, really wanted to come.
Everytime he put pressure on your clit, your leg quivered involuntarily.  It was nearly too much, the sensation so powerful it almost hurt, but he pushed you right to the edge without knocking you off.
“Please,” you found yourself begging before you could stop it, “please, Sheriff—”
“I’m not your Sheriff anymore, sweetheart,” he informed you gruffly, popping up from between your legs with the entire bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, “I’m your daddy now.  Go on and beg your daddy to fuck you.”
Eyes shot wide open, you stared back at him in bewilderment.  Rage flashed in his eyes, and he snarled as his hand suddenly wrapped around your neck, tightening and choking you. 
“You heard me,” he groaned through his teeth.  “Beg me.  To fuck you.”
“Daddy,” you stammered, hoarsely fighting to speak through the pressure on your throat, “fuck me, please.”
He slammed his cock into you and you nearly screamed.  It burned and you instinctively tried to crawl away but, of course, his weight on top of you made it impossible.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  He laid down on top of you entirely then, slipping his arms under your torso and holding you tightly.
Each thrust made you feel like you had reached your limits, as if you couldn’t be stretched further which was probably true.  And yet, in spite of it (or worse, because of it), you found yourself moaning and writhing under him, even arching your back to make his movements smoother.  He laughed a little as he bit at the shell of your ear.
“You love it, baby,” he moaned, “you love my cock.”
You couldn’t respond, just sob as you clutched at the shirt still on his back, your jaw tight as you tried to bear the pain.  
“It’s not always gonna hurt like this,” he promised between heavy breaths, “s’gonna feel good soon.  Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, pretty girl.”
Truthfully, you weren’t sure if that meant that this would happen again or not.  At the moment, you were incapable of thinking that far ahead, too focused on the way the sting of the stretch was melting away and morphing into such powerful pleasure that you couldn’t even see straight.
He kissed you, and only then did the weight of it hit you.  Who he was, what he was doing, what you were doing… it had been distant and vague before, but something about his tongue inside your mouth made you remember that the metal digging into your back was his ring; that the lips on yours were sworn to somebody else— and at that, the one exact person that made this so fundamentally wrong.
Tears welled in your eyes, gentle sobs shaking your chest.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, pulling back and kissing your tears away, “feels good, don’t it?  Feels good when daddy fucks you?”
You knew speaking would only make you cry more, so you only nodded your head shamefully.
“That’s my good girl,” he moaned as he fucked you deeper, harder, rougher.  Your fingers held onto the back of his neck, running through his hair and pulling him closer.  He kept mumbling praises but they fell on deaf ears, pleasure clouding your mind and making every hair on your body stand upright.  He didn’t stop as he reached down between your bodies and laid his hand over your stomach, growling with satisfaction at what he found there.
“I can feel me inside ya,” he grinned.  “Feel that, sweetheart?  Feel how deep I am in your wet little cunt?”
When you didn’t answer, you got a quick slap to the face.  “Yes,” you replied quickly, “yes, I— I feel it.”
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting you there until you nearly screamed.  You couldn’t figure out why something so objectively painful only pushed you closer to your peak, making every spot inside you more sensitive, but somehow it did.
“Gonna come, pretty girl?  Want daddy to fill you up?” he groaned against your ear, pushing down on your stomach even harder.
“Yes, daddy!” you sobbed.  “Please!”
“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me,” he hissed, “don’t fuckin’ stop.  Keep milkin’ my cock and m’gonna fill ya up so good, princess…”
You couldn’t stop even if you tried— your orgasm hit you in powerful waves, your head falling back as your walls clenched involuntarily (as did your fingers and toes, so hard that your nail tore the sheets a little bit, which you wouldn’t notice until the next day).  He grunted as he came, pumping into you with each thrust until you felt more full than you ever had before, in a way you could never describe.
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, him catching his breath and you losing yours as his weight threatened to crush you.  “Fuck,” he groaned as he sat up and pulled out.  He grabbed your legs and held them up for you, staring at your abused pussy and making you feel uncomfortably observed.
“Push it out for me, wanna see my come leak outta ya,” he purred, moaning a little when you did as he asked.  It felt even hotter as it gushed out of you, and you mindlessly bit your lip.  He tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, rezipping them and buckling his belt.  “We’d better get ya cleaned up, huh princess?” 
The bathroom wasn’t far, so he carried you, setting you down to stand on your own as he started to draw a bath.  You watched him, although you weren’t really watching him so much as staring into the void of space that happened to be in his general direction.  You were so out of it that you didn’t even register when he turned around and smiled at you with an air of pride.
“You look so good like this.”  
It pulled you out of your trance, though you had to ask him to repeat himself with a mumbled “huh?”
“I said you look good like this,” he explained, stepping closer.  “Fucked out, braindead, just my empty-headed fucktoy.”
“I… I don’t…” you began to disagree.
He used your jaw to turn your face to the mirror, and you gasped when you saw yourself: your hair was a mess; your whole face was red, especially your eyes and nose from crying, but plenty on your cheeks where he’d slapped you; your lips were swollen and slick; bruises were already forming on your arms where he’d grabbed you, and along your neck and shoulders where he had bitten you.
His form dwarfed yours as he stood behind you, looking at your reflection with a smile.
“Look at us,” he announced wistfully, “one big happy family, huh?”
3K notes · View notes
beyondspaceandstars · 3 years
Text
The Military Dog Tag Dilemma
Relationship: Stucky x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluff Summary: You just want to wear the military tags of both your men but Steve seems to run into some issues. A/N: I am also always a sucker for Stucky writing ok and this was my first personal attempt at it and i thought it came out well <3
masterlist
Bucky gave you his dog togs within weeks of establishing your relationship with him and Steve.
You loved to mindlessly play with them as the three of you cuddled up in bed, enjoying some pillow talk after, particularly long days. Steve spooning you from behind as you laid on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown around you, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. Your fingers would fumble with the shiny tags, turning them over in your hand, watching the minimal moonlight hit them every now and then.
You didn’t know what it was about the tags that had you so captivated nearly every night. It felt so simple yet so intimate as you stared at your lover’s name and information engraved in them. While you weren’t exactly an expert on wartime, you knew the tags could serve as gifts to partners, assuring your heart to one another. The concept definitely drifted through your mind from time to time, but you never brought it up.
Bucky, however, seemed to be thinking the same thing. Wordlessly, one night, he slipped off the silver chain, tags clinking together musically, and slid them over your head. The coolness of them tickled your neck as the tags fell to the valley between your breasts.
You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was pounding as you ran your fingers around the necklace. Even Steve seemed a little shocked by the actions. But Bucky was fully pleased as evident by the cocky grin he wore watching you ogle at the gift. He had to admit — knowing you were walking around with his name dangling from your neck did something for him.
"Where are your tags, Steve?" You had asked after placing a loving, appreciative kiss on Bucky’s lips. Now that you obtained Bucky’s tags, it only seemed fitting you wore Steve’s as well.
Steve shifted. You looked up at him only to find him watching the wall across from the bed, seemingly lost in thought. "I-I’m not really sure, honey."
You let out a sad hum at the response. "Well, if you find them, let me know," you yawned, shuffling down in the bed to get comfier. "I’d like both of my men close to me all the time."
Since then, Steve had been on a mission to find dog tags. Going through archives, chain of custody notes, discarded boxes… Everything. There was just something about the entire thing that was driving Steve mad. He was honored you wanted to show off the claim your two lovers had on you but he was also deeply concerned about the fact that currently you only had Bucky’s to wear.
While Steve wouldn’t exactly call himself jealous in this situation, knowing you didn’t love him any less, the relationship was established the way it was and he felt you should still have something of his to truly show for it.
This led Steve on what felt like a manhunt for the "damn dog tags," as he kept referring to them when Bucky would check-in asking if all was okay. Nothing was really okay. He had looked high and low for them, going through every potential record in the database trying to at least confirm there was something to even look for.
He pounded his fist against the desk late one night. Steve had pushed you and Bucky to get some sleep, claiming he had some reports to look over before bed. You two had looked at him suspiciously but eventually agreed, planting loving kisses on his cheeks, and telling him not to stay up too late.
"I get cold without both of you there," you had mumbled with a sleepy yawn following. Your words almost made Steve give up for the night but then he caught a glimpse of the silver chain on your neck. Seeing you like that, using your tired, loving voice, he remembered what he was doing this for. It was you. It was all about you and your love for sentimental things.
He grudgingly agreed to be there in an hour and that seemed to please his two lovers. Except — it was way past an hour. The sky was close to daybreak when he hit the desk in frustration.
Pushing the folders away, Steve leaned back in the chair, sighing. Within seconds, footsteps came from the hall and Bucky appeared in the doorway, watching a frustrated Steve.
"Everything okay in here?" Bucky asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine," Steve nodded. "Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a bit."
But Bucky didn’t look the slightest bit convinced. He had a knowing look in his eyes which Steve tried to avoid by looking down at the now splintered desk.
"How are those reports going?"
Steve rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed groan. Deep down he knew he couldn’t hide anything from Bucky but still, worth a shot.
He pushed all the folders away this time, leaving them at the very edge of the desk. "I did have dog tags, right?"
"That’s still bothering you, huh?" Bucky crossed the threshold into the office and made his way to one of the chairs in front of Steve’s desk. He took one of the folders and sat directly across from Steve. Casually, he thumbed through it, waiting for his partner to start talking.
Steve didn’t really want to get into it again as he had probably hounded Bucky about it all last week but acting like it wasn’t bothering him was getting him nowhere — obviously.
"Yes," Steve sighed. "I just want her to have something from each of us. It’s- It’s hard watching our girl…"
Bucky frowned, "I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve waited to give them to her."
"No, Buck," Steve leaned forward, reaching his hand out. Bucky took the signal and leaned, placing his own hand in Steve’s. "You wanted her to have them. That’s your call. I just feel disappointed I have nothing to give."
"Well…" Bucky hummed, tilting his head in thought. Steve’s eyes furrowed, trying to get his partner to spit out whatever he was thinking. "What if we ordered you new ones?"
"Can you do that?"
"I honestly don’t know," Bucky chuckled. "But I don’t understand half of what you can do these days, so, I’d imagine there’s a way to get dog tags made."
Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair, disconnecting their touch. It seemed reasonable and would do the job except for the fact— "But they wouldn’t be in combat or- or from the actual military."
Bucky just shook his head. With an annoyed scoff, he said, "Do you think that really matters to her?"
"I guess not…"
"Steve, honey, I promise. It’s about the presentation, the show of it. Our girl is just looking for something personal from you to keep close to her," Bucky assured him. "Plus, I think we can get it updated and personalized. Maybe even write something nice just for her on the back."
Steve had to admit, his heart was jumping happily at the idea. He really couldn’t argue with anything and agreed to the plan. The only issue was — they were a bit out of touch with ordering anything online. You had always been the one to assure online packages and food deliveries arrived but now they had to take you out of the equation. While excited to surprise you, they were slightly unsure about ordering and had to enlist the help of the team who all turned out to be more than happy to assist once they explained their idea.
A few weeks later, you were laying in your shared bed, back against the headboard, body cozied up under the duvet. You were engrossed in a cheesy romance novel, waiting for Steve and Bucky to join you for the night. Eventually, the two came in, but they were still in their work attire.
You frowned at their appearance. "Aren’t you guys coming to bed?"
As you asked your question, you couldn’t help but note their unusual stance. The two men were side-by-side, standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at you. Bucky had his hands in his pockets while Steve appeared to be hiding something behind his back. You eyed them suspiciously.
"We will in a bit, doll," Bucky said. You watched him as he came around to the side of the bed. He sat down and leaned against the headboard, shifting right next to you, sneakily taking the book out of your grip. "But first, Steve has something for you."
"For- For me?" You asked, whipping your head around to face Steve. He had a bit of nervousness to him as he nodded, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge.
Silently, he handed you a small box. You eagerly accepted the item, turning it over and over in your hands. Giving it a light shake, the box made a jangling noise. "What is it?" You asked, wide-eyed looking between the two men.
Steve and Bucky both let out soft chuckles at your excitement. "You have to open it to find out," Steve said. He still had an air of anxiousness, running his hands up and down his jean-covered thighs, fidgeting.
To put your poor boyfriend out of his misery, you opened the box. At first, all you noticed was something slim and shiny. Eyes furrowed in confusion, you pulled out what appeared to be a chain. You could feel a slight heaviness to it — and then you saw it. Your jaw dropped as you tossed the box next to you. In your hands was another set of dog tags nearly identical to the ones you already had adorned on your neck — only this pair were inscribed with the name Steven Grant Rogers.
"Steve-," you gasped, staring at the tags laying in the palm of your hands. You were at a loss for words as you read the tag.
"Are- Are they okay?" Steve asked, his nervous hand came up to rest on your thigh, pulling your attention back to him.
"Are you kidding me?" You let out a breathy laugh. "They’re wonderful, honey, thank you so much."
"You’re sure?" He asked again. Bucky gave him a pointed look for his ridiculousness but that didn’t stop Steve from rambling. "I-I couldn’t find mine so, I got a new pair made. I know they’re maybe not as authentic or something but I still wanted-,"
"You had these made?" You cut in. "For me?"
Steve nodded, "You had Bucky’s, so, it was only fair you had something of mine, too."
You couldn’t hold your emotions back at his word. Tears began forming as you looked at your soft, loving partner. You let out little sniffles as you turned back to the tags, still soaking in their meaning. Bucky placed a light touch on your arm as Steve scooted closer, probably suddenly scared by your tears.
"They’re perfect, honey," you whispered as you looked back at him and leaned forward, placing a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips. He eagerly accepted, practically sighing from relief under your touch. "They’re going to go perfect with the tags from my other man." You mumbled and turned to now give Bucky a kiss, who felt very pleased to get a turn to lock lips with you.
Facing Steve again, you handed him the chain. He looked down at it, confused.
"Well, soldier, are you going to put them on me?"
Both of the men chuckled at your actions but Steve happily slid the silver chain over your neck, watching as the tags fell to your chest. Once they landed, they clang nicely with Bucky’s. It sounded like music to your ears.
"I love you both so much," you said, your hand mindlessly running over the pair of tags. "Thank you."
"We love you too, doll," Bucky said. Steve nodded in agreement.
Smiling, you gave them both quick pecks and said, "Now, are you guys coming to bed?"
Bucky scoffed, "How could we ever deny you?"
You giggled. "I don’t think you can seeing as last time I checked I was a special girl."
At your words, both their gazes dropped once again to the tags hanging between your breasts, seeming so at place there.
"You sure are, honey," Steve mumbled, placing a kiss on your cheek.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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babyboibucky · 3 years
Text
Should’ve Known Better
Pairing: EB!Frank x Reader
Summary: You should have known better than to sleep with a friend.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Smut, FWB set-up, a little bit of toxic shit, angst
A/N: Frank got the most votes when I asked which other Seb character I should write for, so here it is! This is very personal to me lmfao it’s somewhat based on my own experience that really fucked me up a couple of years ago aksncajscna no but for real, stay away from the friends with benefits kind of relationship if you can’t keep shit purely sexual lmao also some guys are just fucking assholes even if they’re your friend lol
ALSO, I tagged those who are in my Everything Bucky Tag List. I’m not sure if I’ll write more Frank in the future too so I won’t be creating a separate tag list for him yet.
MAIN MASTERLIST
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"Do you love me?"
It was a simple question that was supposed to make you think. Given your experiences and your personality in general, you were supposed to cringe and ignore it. Maybe even make a joke out of it, especially that it was Frank who was asking you this question.
He wasn't supposed to ask it too. He wasn't one to ask such thing, not especially with the relationship that the both of you have. It was clear from the get go that this was nothing serious.
So why was he asking it now?
And why did you respond to it right away, as if you knew your answer even before he asked?
-
"Come on, it'll be fun."
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"I'll make you feel good, you won't regret this."
It did feel good, you were going to give Frank that. Possibly the best, even. But the latter part? You weren't so sure. Were you regretting it? Honestly, no.
Maybe not yet.
You'd rather not think about it for now.
"What's there to lose? We know each other too much to develop feelings anyway, you said so yourself."
Oh there's plenty to lose. Maybe a decade's worth of platonic (was it really platonic from the beginning though?) friendship. Your self-esteem was on the line too, but you didn't know it yet. You'll get there though, whether you like it or not.
"I'm free next Friday, come over. Spend the night with me. What do you say?"
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"Next Friday. I'll see you, okay?"
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"Ugh, fine."
But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
-
That first night with Frank was something else. It was fun and he kept his promise to make you feel good. So, so good. You never thought that sex could be that fucking good. At least, not with your previous partners. Not that you had many in the first place.
But god, Frank knew what he was doing and he loved doing things to you. He loved the entire process of knowing your body, what you liked and what you loved. How you liked to be kissed and touched and fucked.
He studied your body like his fucking life depended on it and you let him. You let him own your body because you needed someone to. You needed to feel something, wanted to have a purpose even for just a short while, even if it meant being someone's fuck buddy.
You felt lost for the longest time, but as you laid on Frank's bed with his tongue lapping up your cunt, you actually felt like you belonged somewhere.
-
You weren't a booty call, definitely not. And when things escalated between the both of you, Frank was already single and had broken off with his recent girlfriend, Daphne. You weren't a doormat nor a side chick. Frank had been your friend for the longest time, one of your closest actually. He knew you the best and not just physically. Frank knew the darkest parts of you the same way you knew him like the back of your hand. He was the most open to you, he said so himself.
"I don't know what I'd do without you." he told you one time.
Frank wasn't afraid to show you his true colors; how he wasn't the kind to settle for one or how he would often end up with someone immature or toxic. He himself was toxic and for the most part, you tolerated him.
That was the mistake on your part.
You let him be himself, that's why you held a special place in his heart. Not even his past girlfriends could get rid of you. You were untouchable.
"Are you sure she's fine with us going out?" you asked Frank one time, as the both of you headed to the movies.
He scoffed, "Yeah, don't worry. I already told her you're my best friend. You're off limits." he chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside the cinema.
"You're fine." he reassured again, this time wrapping his arm around your shoulder and then cradling your head playfully.
-
Looking back, you sometimes ponder whether the friendship was really platonic. You were sure of it when the both of you first became friends; he was a couple of years older than you. You sort of looked up to him like an older brother for the first few years of your relationship. And he was very caring too, always looking out for you.
Your other friends were the first one to notice the closeness. They often told you that Frank seemed to have a thing for you. You brushed it off though, saying that it was impossible.
His girlfriend then was an acquaintance of yours. She was nice and wasn't bothered by how Frank was affectionate towards you.
Indeed, you were untouchable. You were the best friend after all.
-
"We fought again."
You rolled your eyes at Frank as he sat across from you at a local coffee shop near your place. It was your birthday and as always, you spent the most part of it with Frank.
It was like a tradition already, to celebrate your birthday with Frank first before you went out with your friends. Or even family. It was that kind of friendship.
"I'm sorry but who are we talking about again?" you joked.
Frank made a face, "Daphne." he responded. "I just told you about her like, two days ago."
You snickered, "I was kidding. But honestly though, you have to stop flirting with other girls. It's been really difficult for me to keep track of your record, Frank. And are you and Daphne even official?" you asked, taking a sip from your cold brew.
He rubbed his chin and shrugged, "Sorta. Well, we were official two weeks ago. Now though, I'm not so sure. Here's the thing, Daphne can be really..." he said, trying to search for the right words.
You hummed and shook your head, "Immature?" you said and mindlessly scrolled through your phone.
"You should really stop dating girls who are immature, Frank. I swear to god, this is like...I don't know, the fifth time you dated someone like her? Why don't you settle for someone who actually acts her age?" you blurted out.
Frank groaned and transferred to the seat next to you, his body facing yours and his hand landing on your thigh. You didn't mind, didn't think it was too touchy or intimate for someone who was in a relationship. It was pretty common for Frank to be this touchy with you anyway, you never paid much attention to it nor given it any malice.
"We fought because of you actually." Frank admitted with an apologetic smile.
Your head snapped towards him, a scowl etched on your face. "What did I do?!" you asked in defense.
"It was my fault. Daph saw your photo inside my wallet." he said.
"You should really throw away that photo. Jesus, why do you still have it anyway?" you complained.
Frank scoffed, "That's my favorite photo of you. I don't wanna get rid of it."
That was the last day that you considered your friendship with Frank platonic.
-
Come over
I miss u xoxo
Miss eating u out
Miss ur moans, wanna hear them again
You groaned at the continuous notifications that flooded your phone. While you were at work. After that first night with Frank, he had gotten extra clingy. No lies though, it felt nice to be wanted like this.
im free nxt Sat
Yay
Cant wait to see u, missed u a lot
dude, we were at the mall together just last wk
U really dont get attached do u?
Frowning at Frank's reply, you honestly didn't understand what he was implying.
what u mean?
Nothing
Work kept you busy for the entire week, with Frank bombarding you with sweet texts. You've avoided being sweet with him, it felt wrong. You weren't an affectionate person but Frank was, it was sort of one-sided. It wasn't a big deal anyway.
No one from the rest of your friends knew what had become of your friendship with Frank. You just thought it wasn't something that should be revealed. It was like your and Frank's little secret. You had to admit, the thrill only made the sex better.
Whenever the both of you went out with other people, the tension was there and it was fun. It was fun trying to brush off the way Frank's hand would steal touches from your waist, or how he'd subtly squeeze your thigh. The looks you exchanged from across the room; how Frank's "fuck me" eyes were meant for you and only you.
Things like that made you feel a certain type of way. But you never dwelled on it, or at least, you thought you didn't.
-
"Yeah, fuck...just like that, baby."
Frank's fingers dug deeply into the skin of your ass as he guided your hips. You gripped onto the back of the couch as you bounced on his cock, head thrown back from pleasure as Frank suckled one of your nipples. You could feel each of his fingers pressing down against your skin, it's probably going to leave bruises again.
"Frank, shit. I'm close." you panted against the skin of his neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close.
Frank grunted and took your face in between his palms, forcing you to look at him as he began to thrust his hips upwards, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you.
"Wanted to see you like this ever since." he breathed out, pressing his lips against your open mouth.
"Wanted you since we met, d'you know that?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so he could nibble on your throat.
You shook your head and gripped his shoulders, nails scratching at his skin as you continued to ride his cock, "God, Frank...so close." you moaned.
You felt Frank's lips curl into a smirk against your neck, his fingers gripping your hair to keep you in place as his other hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it to help you reach your climax.
Every single time he touched you, you felt like your entire body was on fire. You felt the most alive, the most free whenever Frank fucked you. Maybe because he was truly gifted in bed or maybe he just knew your body and how to make it sing.
Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at you whenever you fall apart for him. Like he only had eyes for you, like it was only you that he could see.
Sweaty bodies and hoarse voices, the smell of smoke and sex lingering in the air. It was such a familiar ambiance by now. You liked how the aftermath of fucking Frank was never awkward, if any, it was a comfortable experience with the both of you just talking casually about how each other's day went.
"So I'm talking to this girl..." Frank said, turning you around so he could spoon you. Oh, the irony of the intimacy and conversation.
"Where'd you meet this girl?" you asked.
"Tinder." Frank snorted before pressing a kiss on your nape. "No, but she's different. I don't know, there's something about her."
You merely hummed in response.
"Think I might ask her out."
The first sting. The first realization. The first denial.
You should've said no. You should've known better.
-
The art exhibit wasn't a flop, but you wouldn't call it a success either. When you got a call from the organizer asking whether they can include your paintings in the exhibit, you said yes instantly. What can you say? You were a struggling artist who was seeking validation.
But now that you stood in front of your works with barely ten people attending the one-day exhibit, you thought that this wasn't a validation. It felt like a wake up call that maybe, art wasn't your calling and that you should probably give up on your dream.
"These are amazing."
You were on the verge of breaking down when you heard his voice. Turning around, you were surprised to see Frank. He was nodding his head as he approached you, his eyes scanning each of your painting.
"What are you doing here? I thought you had work." you asked.
Frank gave you a face, "Did you really think I'd miss out on your first exhibit?" he said and pulled you into a warm embrace.
"I'm proud of you." he whispered before kissing the crown of your head.
One validation from Frank was all it took for the walls to crumble down. He was the one who had been there for you all along and that was why you completely trusted him.
Frank will never hurt you, he'll never bring you down.
Or so you thought.
-
"Do you love me?"
It was a question that was supposed to make you think. But you didn't, because even before Frank decided to ask you that, you already had your answer.
You knew your answer for the longest time now, but decided to lock it into a box that you kept in the deepest part of your heart. It remained there unbothered and almost forgotten, up until this point.
That's why it was so easy for you to respond to it without even batting an eye.
"Yes."
It was too late when you realized that you had just admitted that you were in love with Frank. But you felt like it was the right time for you to bring out the key to that box, open it and just set your truth free.
They said that the truth will set you free, but why does it feel like it only imprisoned you?
"Shit, I was kidding." Frank said, his face panicked and body stiff from your unexpected admission.
Before you could even say something, Frank let out a nervous laugh as he ran his hand through his locks. "Wow, I didn't...are you serious?" he asked again.
It took you everything to brush off the pain, "Yeah, but it's no big deal. Come on." you shook your head and forced out a breathy chuckle.
Frank heaved out a deep sigh, "Fuck, I was messing with you. Are you sure it's fine? I mean, would this change anything?" he asked.
You deadpanned, "No, Frank. It wouldn't change anything. Like I said, get over it. It's not like I'm in love with you. I just love you...if that makes sense? You're my friend." you explained, more like lied.
"Look, it's not like I'm unattracted to you. I like you, I like spending time with you. It's just that I sort of don't see myself committing to you."
It didn't sink in to you immediately, Frank's statement. You didn't pay it any mind because again, you knew Frank. He wasn't one to commit so that was fine, you understand where he was coming from. It's not like you were going to force yourself on him too. But then you accidentally glanced at his phone and saw the messages he'd been exchanging with a certain someone.
When r u coming home?
In a little while, Daph
That night, Frank's statement hit you like a ton of bricks but again, you chose to deny what you actually felt. It's fine.
You're fine.
-
You should've said no. You should've known better.
Those words rang in your ears on the day that you found out. Your body turned cold, your vision blurred and your head spun. You'd never experienced hurt and anger like this, the kind that consumed you.
The kind that made you realized and admit that fuck, you'd truly fallen for Frank only for him to break your heart.
It didn't help that you were having such a terrible day at work. And Frank was so sweet to ask you whether you wanted to meet up with him. Not for sex, but to talk. The sex came rarely recently and was replaced with wholesome trips to the grocery, shit like that.
You knew there was something special going on. Even after he told you that he didn't see himself being with you, there was something.
Apparently, that something was just an assumption. Because when you asked Frank to meet you up that night, he said he couldn't and needed to be somewhere. That he'd meet with you the next day instead, a promise.
But then you saw him post a photo of him and Daphne. And it made your blood boil.
u back together?
No. Not really, been trying to fix it but u know how it is.
if ur trying to fix it with her then im out, frank
Wait what? Hey, are u mad?
r u fucking serious? u knew i love u and u come here parading ur ex, what the fuck is that all abt?
Shit, hey. Look, let's talk later, okay? Im out, will txt u when Im free.
Frank didn't text you back for the rest of the day.
-
You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
Were you regretting it? Yes. Sometimes.
You didn't know which hurt the most, the fact that Frank kept you in the dark while he was trying to patch things up with his ex, or that he considered you his best friend and still chose to break your heart.
He knew you the best, your relationship and trust issues and out of all the people, he really had to be the one to fuck you up the most. You trusted him so much, trusted him not to hurt you. Hell, if he doesn't want to commit then that's fine. But for him to treat you like a second option? Fuck that.
For him to confuse you with his actions, the intimacy...were all of those even real? All the times he came to your support when you had no one, when he was there for you on days you felt alone. What were those? He made you feel so fucking special, like it was possible to actually turn the friendship into something more than just fucking.
All this time you thought it was one-sided because you never actually showed Frank how much you meant to him the same way he did to you. Turned out that it was one-sided, but only because you were the only one who fell.
The following day, you received a voicemail from Frank. You pondered whether you were ready to listen to it but at the same time, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was pretty stupid, he fucked you up and there was no excuse for that. But the friendship you had with him had a strong hold on you.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That was my mistake." he started off. "I thought that this was really just sex and having fun, but I want you to know that I like you. I really do, you're special to me. Please give me a chance to make things right. Daph and I...I want to end things with her. Please stay, I don't know what I'd do without you."
“I just didn’t expect that you’d end up falling for me, I mean shit. You know the real me, how fucked up I am when it comes to relationships. Just please...please stay?”
Did you stay? Sort of. But you kept your distance, didn't meet up with Frank after that and only responded to his texts occasionally. Did he end things with Daph?
He didn't.
He said he would but instead, they got back together.
It was fucking selfish of Frank to ask for you to stay only for him to get back together with his ex. It'd be better for him to just slap you in the face then.
Being told that he couldn't see himself committing to you but then going back with his ex was the cherry on top. God, if that didn't mess up with your self-worth.
You totally stopped talking to Frank, ignored his texts and calls. You stayed away from him, tried to get over him and eventually, you did. But you'd be lying if you said that he never left an effect on you. Because he did, Frank did a number on you and it would take you a long fucking time to completely recover from the damage he inflicted on you.
You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
And that's okay, because there's nothing wrong with taking risks and ending up in heartbreak.
You live, you love and you learn.
-
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leviiattacks · 3 years
Text
Seven minutes in Heaven with Physics Major Levi
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author note :: i lost the ask but anon i do not know what this is. reading it sounded better in my head but physics major levi with reader who likes him is that a good description???? HM ANYWAY enjoy it’s not too great i’ve been revising nonstop for exams but i might as well have finished this off for the anon who requested it :-)
word count :: 2.5k probably... hm who knows maybe 3k
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when you and levi become friends it’s definitely unexpected to say the least. everyone is naturally very confused by the peculiar pairing. levi doesn’t really... go out of his way to befriend anyone really??? so for him to approach you in the middle of the library and start talking about how he noticed you shared a class together was out of the ordinary
the flow of the conversation is a little awkward at first, you’re revising for a final exam and don’t really appreciate the disruption but you’re not confident enough to tell him to leave.
at one point an awkward silence drifts between the two of you until he points out you’ve completely RUINED your notes and have been looking over the wrong lectures for the up and coming physics exam
later on into the night levi’s stood sighing next to you. he tells you to take your pick from the pot noodle section — “hey, i know we literally just met but i’m telling you a chicken pot noodle is gonna make you feel better.”
you’re so distraught that he has to pick it up for you and pay
and that is how you and levi become friends !!!
if it’s of any relevance yes you passed the final (all because of levi giving you his organised binder full of notes and telling you to make use of it)
you know it just sorta happens but through all of the all nighters you’ve pulled with levi by your side you become used to his presence nearby. in fact most of the the time it’s difficult to even find you anywhere without him. you’re both practically joined at the hip
levi’s pretty protective of you, hates the whole party scene but is willing to tag along if you’re going. at first you think it’s because he feels more comfortable stepping out of his comfort zone if you’re there with him but his intentions become more evident later on
any time someone makes you uncomfortable he’s by your side, if you happen to get into any sort of trouble he’s the person people call to help you because who else knows you the way levi does?
currently you and levi are at another party, you tend to keep to yourself and only ever talk to your close friends. it’s also not like you to partake in games, you’re far too nervous to play anything like seven minutes in heaven but for some reason you find yourself wanting to take part JUST this once
maybe it’s the fear of never making fun memories to tell your future children about
then again why on earth would you be telling your children about your experience kissing a random man in a closet??
either way, participating shouldn’t hurt!!! you’ve got to loosen up a little!!!
levi’s a little surprised you agree to play nevertheless he still sits next to you, the both of you have your legs crossed on the floor, your knees are touching and you aren’t sure if he feels the same warm sensation that you feel. it bubbles in the pit of your stomach – you feel oddly content
“levi!! anyone you want the bottle to land on ???” hange a mutual friend of yours leans in handing him the glass bottle
levi gives the bottle a disgusted look before his gaze flicks over to you.
“i’m only here because of y/n, i ‘m not playing.”
that doesn’t satisfy hange and they begin to groan complaining that he can’t stay unless he spins the bottle
“look you don’t have to do anything in the closet, okay??” hange’s begging him at this point, he’s still holding up pretty well and for some reason you’re disappointed. it’s almost like you hoped he’d spin the bottle just so it would land on you
levi takes notice of your frown and guesses you want him to be included, he isn’t one for games like these but if it’ll make you happy so be it. there’s still the chance it’ll land on you and his thought process falters for a second.
he thinks he really wouldn’t mind if the bottle landed on you and so he ends up nodding and agreeing to play.
anyway it’s not as if he isn’t guilty of imagining the two of you being a little more than friends
ok wait!!!! it’s completely innocent HE SWEARS!!!!
he’s never told you about it but sometimes he thinks if he was a little more straightforward that day at the library and asked for your number MAYBE just MAYBE his intentions would be clearer and he wouldn’t be stuck in the friend zone for this long
he should’ve used a stupid physics pick up line he knows you love those
something like – “i’m attracted to you more than an electron’s attracted to a proton.”
or maybe — “i’d fall for you even in the absence of gravity”
ok... maybe you wouldn’t have got that one considering you were revising the wrong content and probably forgot about that topic
he can’t imagine himself saying those things but if it would make you finally see him as a potential love interest and not a best friend he wouldn’t mind having to force it out
but still it’s not really a secret that levi has a soft spot for you, literally everyone can see it. when has he ever gone out of his way to save a seat for anyone? when has he ever willingly gone to a party? WHEN has levi actually let someone lay their head on his shoulder??
he only ever let’s you do that stuff
let’s actually discuss the head on his shoulder thing!!!
whenever finals approach you’re always sucked in by huge amounts of work and barely get to sleep, levi’s always hovering over your shoulder reminding you to catch a few hours but of course you don’t listen. you think you’ll be just fine if you rely on an energy drink and two hours of sleep to get by
but levi knows you better than you know yourself. it’s hour seven into the day and you’re already dozing off in your seat. slowly but gradually your head tilts forward. levi’s sitting across you contemplating whether or not he should prop your head back up like a nice friend would or if he should wait for you to smack your forehead right into the solid oak table.
he ends up making his decision last minute, your head flies towards the table and if it were anyone else he’d just let them jolt awake from the harsh impact but it’s you and his body won’t let him ignore you.
on reflex his hand flies out and in the matter of a split second he’s holding your head back. he’s surprised you haven’t woken up and he’s even more surprised he bothered to help you
before that happens levi knows he likes you, he knows he enjoys your company, he’s aware you make him happy but he thinks he’s willing to just be friends with you because clearly you don’t want to pursue anything.
you haven’t even flirted with him before aside from the witty “you remind me of an exothermic reaction” joke that you made one time
oh and there’s also the additional fact that you had a boyfriend up until quite recently so he’s sure you don’t see him romantically
honestly he’s fine with not dating you but something about seeing you overwork yourself like that has him simmering in anger. if he were your boyfriend he would have forced you into bed whether you liked it or not
if he were your boyfriend he’d never break up with you because he “found someone better.” he can’t even manage to imagine anyone better than you.
levi shuffles into the seat next to yours and places your head onto his shoulder. a few students shoot him questioning looks but the deadly glare he sends back is enough to deter them from coming any closer
it’s a little funny actually, by the time you wake up you’re rubbing at your eyes, you don’t even notice how close levi is to you until his hot breath fans across your neck. it seems like he’s dozed off whilst trying to make notes on fluid dynamics
wait
levi. right. next. to. your. neck.
should you move????
no, he might wake up he barely sleeps and you don’t want to mess up his schedule even more
that day you choose to drift off back to sleep as if you never woke up to his breath against your neck.
“OHHHH LEVI LANDED ON Y/N????”
your head shoots up NOW you’ve completely been dragged away from your thoughts.
“lucky for you both. guess you won’t have to do anything and stand there for seven minutes. told ya levi there was nothing to worry about B-)”
hange without warning pulls you both up by your arms, you’ve yet to see levi’s reaction, you’re too stunned to have noticed his slack jaw or wide eyes
“HAVE FUN!”
and with that said and done you and levi are shoved into the cleaning closet
“well, i’m glad it landed on you. i won’t have to do anything.” levi seems happy as can be, you don’t really know why but it stings a little
he doesn’t even seem to stop for a second to wonder if you’d maybe want to do anything
are you just not his type ????
hange once told you levi liked organised people and well,, you’re anything but organised. you’d probably pass out from the work load of your physics lectures if not for levi always helping you out
scowling to yourself you try to ignore just how awkward the situation is until levi plops down on the floor in front of you
“you okay?” he asks looking genuinely concerned
“i- yeah i’m good.”
your eyes dart away trying to look at anything but him. you can’t deny he looks good today, you actually helped him slick his hair back - the entire time he complained about the hair gel feeling weird but he looks great and now you can’t even stare at him for more than a second
“i’m guessing you’d have preferred if the bottle landed on someone else.”
leaning forward without even noticing it you aggressively deny what he says. “NO!!! i like being stuck here with you.”
levi looks stunned by your outburst but nods “oh, did you feel pressured to join the game? we can leave if you want—”
“no, no i– you aren’t– oh god i mean, look. i can explain– do i need to explain???”
completely choking up in front of him and sputtering before slamming your lips shut and saying absolutely nothing is probably one of the most awkward things you’ve done in your ENTIRE existence
levi reaches out for your knee, something that’s usually seen as him being friendly only feels intimate tonight. his thumb strokes comforting circles into your skin. the situation doesn’t make it any better, essentially you’re meant to be making out with him right now
“is something bothering you?”
there it is again. that look. he only seems more concerned than before and you hate yourself for not even thinking about your friendship before you open your mouth.
“do you not want to kiss me because we’re best friends or is it something else?”
there it is. you’ve said it.
you see levi’s face contort from a mix of confusion to what looks like disgust then shock. screwing your eyes shut you know you’ve ruined everything now. he’s never going to speak to you, never going to approach you again. you’re mentally preparing for him to ditch you at this party right here right now
but then you notice his hand still steadily placed on your knee, he’s now stopped with the circles, his grip is bruising
“do you want me to kiss you?”
his question isn’t really expected, it helps you find the courage to look your best friend in the eye.
it’s pretty dark but you can still make out the familiar shadows of his face. the butterflies rush up from your stomach all the way to your throat.
mild regret fills you, usually his curtains obscure his piercing gaze but the way you’ve styled his hair gives him a better view of you, there’s nowhere for you to hide
not even stopping to think about the possibility of him teasing you right now, all you care about is telling him the truth. you’ve come all the way here you may as well finish off what you’ve started
“would you be mad if i said i’d like it if you did?”
levi doesn’t need any more confirmation than that, he swoops in yanking you by your waist. his knees are still pressed against the floor and so you find yourself leaning down into his mouth and craning your neck downwards
his chest is completely pressed against yours. the drumming of your heart is so loud you feel self conscious but levi’s soft lips moving against yours distract you from that
not even ten seconds in and you feel out of breathe but not in an overwhelming way. levi’s pace isn’t at all what you imagined it to be like. he’s soft and slow yet calloused and rough around the edges, some how he still manages to make the kiss sweet
his left hand leisurely travels to the small of your back, the other hand now caresses your cheek. his fingertips are anything but soft but the way he handles you is tender and endearingly delicate.
you smile into the kiss and almost instantly levi’s lips tug upwards too. his take on seven minutes in heaven is quite easily the most romantic thing you’ve been subjected to. instead of a passionate make out you’ve been given a honeyed introduction to a new side of him
the kiss ends much quicker than you anticipate, you open your mouth to whine and convince levi that the two of you should still have a solid minute left before hange returns but he presses his index finger against your lips
“later. i promise.” his voice is heavy and if his blushed cheeks are anything to go by he’s thoroughly enjoyed your session together
at his reassurance you comply and take the time to have a better look at him
his lips are wet – some of your lip gloss has clearly stuck to him. his hair isn’t as well styled as it was before, seeing him like this makes you feel a surge of confidence. you know you did that to him.
so... what is someone to do with a sudden boost in confidence?
hit your new possible love interest with a pick up line :-) !!!
“heyyy so i know the spring constant of my mattress, would you be interested in taking some data with me?”
slapping your shoulder lightly he’s yet to gain his composure back, levi’s genuinely out of breathe now trying to steady himself and your comment doesn’t do him any favours that’s for sure
“my god you have no sham–”
without warning the door to your left swings open you and levi flinch trying to scramble away from eachother only to fail, hange marches in before stopping dead in their tracks.
all they see is levi knelt in front of you, hair disheveled huffing like his life depends on it
then their focus shifts to you, you’re sure some of your makeup has smudged and the entire scenario looks suspicious
levi seems as if he’s about to warn hange to not tell anyone and keep this a secret for now but they sprint away before any of you have the opportunity to ask for some privacy
not even ten seconds later a collision can be heard alongside a series of thuds and then hange’s yelling towards the end of the hallway “GUYS??? THEY ACTUALLY DID IT???”
for some reason the cheers coming from the living room warm your heart
you guess your friends figured out the direction of your relationship long before you and levi did :-)
314 notes · View notes
animatedrapture · 3 years
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RINTOBER: [Greet Me With Goodbye]
suna rintarō x reader
word count: 2k
tags: bandmember!suna, angst, implied cheating, toxic relationship, post-breakup, smoking
song: 505 - arctic monkeys
a/n: PLEASE READ THE FIC WHILE LISTENING TO THIS. thank you mous for beta-reading this for me <3
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The lights were near blinding as you stood behind the large crowd, having opted to stay where you can only see enough and be barely seen from the front of the stage where he stood.
 The start of the song is what causes goosebumps against your skin—like it wants to take your breath away, and if you weren’t having trouble breathing before, you definitely were when you heard his voice again—booming and deep as he sang the first verse of the song. Your heart aches when you remember the first time you heard it, nowhere near finished then.
 “I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck?” You read the lyrics out, intrigued, and you look back up to him. His gaze holds yours with unparalleled tenderness behind the gloss of his eyes. You cock an eyebrow at him with an amused smile.
 “Reminded me a lot about you when we first started trying to figure the lyrics out,” Suna answered with nonchalance, nodding at the paper held between your fingertips as if to tell you to continue reading through it.
 “You’re not wrong,” you commented, humming in thought. “I’d still adore you with your hands around my neck, Rintarou.”
 Suna grins, a glint in his eyes evident. Maybe because he knew, even without you telling him. He knew you adored him to a sinful extent.
 The cheers and audience singing along to the sound of his voice were loud, but the thunderous beating of your heart was louder. So much louder. That’s when you think that maybe you shouldn’t have come here, you shouldn’t have let your friends convince you to stand directly in front of him yet stand so far away as if you were hiding. Well, perhaps you really were hiding; you could definitely step forward, see his face with a thin sheen of sweat, strumming along the guitar that hung around his torso—God, his torso—and his hair slightly covering the pair of eyes you’ve loved so deeply for a long time. His pretty face looked ethereal from where you stood, the beaming lights surrounding the stage accentuating everything that made him who he was, Suna Rintarou.
 Suna’s thumb grazes your lower lip, swiping lightly with his intense gaze locked with yours. It’s hypnotizing like always. Suna’s green eyes—heavily lidded that it made him all the more pretty, all the more breathtaking—set on you as you sat on his lap, the blunt tucked in between the fingers of his other hand emitting smoke that invaded your lungs like he invaded the entirety of your mind.
 You can’t look away, not even when he takes a drag of it directly in front of you—it’s frustrating how oddly seducing it was to watch him, your eyes following the way he inhaled the smoke that was toxic to his lungs like he was toxic to your own heart, poison to your own mind, venom in your bloodstream.
 His lips find yours immediately, his hand that was on your face moving to the inside of your thighs and it’s enough to make you gasp—your lips parting against his as he blows out the smoke to your mouth and you inhale.
 You inhale because it was more like taking him in your system than the smoke that was toxic for your lungs, poison to your mind, venom in your bloodstream.
 You inhale and take him in your system. Yet you never would’ve thought he’d vanish like the same smoke going up in the air until you see it no more.
 “Not shy of a spark, the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark,” You wish you were imagining it, the heavy drip of pain and contempt laced in his voice as he sang the words out. He sings like it’s flashing all in his head, every fight you both had—because it’s coming back to you too like a ton of bricks.
 Or maybe the sensation of it all coming back to you is more like what the lyrics he sang suggests already, a knife to the chest so deep that there’s simply no way you’d survive from it—no way a relationship could survive from it. The knife to your chest is dug deep enough; how do you live when it’s twisted and turned so sadistically?
 “You’re late again,” you mutter, sighing in exhaustion as you looked back at Suna who sat across from you from the table of the restaurant. It was your date night, scheduled already weeks before—yet he came in late—an hour late to be exact. An hour you spent giving tight lipped smiles to everyone’s gazes who fell on you near the middle of the restaurant as you waited, an hour spent smiling politely as you answered waiters who came near you asking if you’re ready to order.
 An hour spent wondering why this isn’t the first nor second time he left you waiting on nights that should’ve been about the both of you.
 “Look, I’m sorry, yeah?” He quipped, not bothering to even spare you a glance.
 He eyes the menu while your eyes begin to sting as you hold back your tears. You want to burst, to say something—anything. Anything that would take his attention, anything that would finally tell him you can’t keep doing this.
 “You don’t seem sorry, Rin,” you reply silently, gaze steady on his figure still looking through the menu. He finally looks up at you, exasperation fully evident in his features.
 “What’d ya want me to say? I just ran a lil late, alright?” He snapped, the menu falling harshly down the table from his grip.
 “You’ve been running a little late for months now—I’m tired of it,” your voice sounds weak, defeated. This is something you didn’t know was like knife twisted into Suna Rintarou’s heart.
 “If you’re tired, then leave,” his voice was cold to a scalding degree.
 Maybe the mistake was that you didn’t leave that night. That you continued something that you both should’ve tried to end that night—or at least attempted to. You didn’t know this either, but had you attempted to leave, Suna was bound to chase after you and engulf you in his arms.
 But you didn’t.
“I'm going back to 505, if it's a seven-hour flight or a forty-five-minute drive. In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.”
Every beat of the song felt like a kick with the kind of ache you felt against your chest that seemed so constricting. It’s like you’re inhaling the same smoke from his lungs again, choking you with it.
 You’re not sure how it happens, nor does it register in time when bright lights fall just where you stood—not in a dramatic sense like those god-forsaken clichéd romance novels—but simply out of coincidence. Come to think of it, had you stepped forward, you wouldn’t have been there, completely visible in his line of sight when his narrowed eyes zero on you in the crowd so easily as if you were magnet to his gaze, still.
 That could’ve been the case before. But not anymore.
 Not anymore, you ponder. If you hadn’t walked away and pulled from his embrace that day, would things have been different? He’s standing on a bigger stage now; oddly enough, you also heard he’s had more control of his schedule since. It’s been so long since the last time he’s seen you, been so long since he woke up to an empty bed—your warmth gone and your lingering scent on the sheets faint as if you were barely there to begin with.
 Just like that, he wished he could take it all back.
 The sound of Suna’s phone felt nagging and relentless. The more days passed, the more it was louder, the more his eyes remained trained on his phone.
 His fidelity remained unquestioned even as your relationship with him turned disastrously strained from all the hours you’ve spent waiting, all the days you’ve spent without him, all the replies you never received—all your messages left on read like you’re looking at Suna Rintarou, your own boyfriend, through a static screen.
 He continued to fall short and break your heart little by little but knowing he loved you beyond his actions was something you wholeheartedly believed; because his eyes staring back at you remained both tender and fiery like golden balance of true love.
 Yet maybe you were wrong.
 The final straw is the way your eyes follow the string of messages between Suna and another girl you’ve forced yourself to forget the name of. Your gaze lingers and wallow at the provocative pictures of the woman, enough to make you wonder where you lacked—where you came short.
 You wished it was only that which set you apart piece by piece like a puzzle being undone and someone else stealing the pieces of yourself you thought you gave to the man you can trust those pieces with to safe-keep.
 But the blue bubble saying, “Meet me in a few minutes,” on one of the nights he came late—bright blue and blinding enough to make you want to gauge your eyes out—and the following, “I’m here, where are you?” burns in the back of your head like his lit up cigarettes against your skin so fervently.
 That day, little by little, you packed your things in the most discreet of ways; sure, it should’ve probably taken a lot before Suna would have noticed when he’s barely home with you—but you remained scared that he would notice and you wouldn’t say no if he asked you to stay, because that’s how much Suna had you—line, hook, and sinker.
 You take one tentative step back, but your legs feel restrained and paralyzed underneath you when Suna’s eyes lock with yours, meters apart, but you would be lying if you said it’s an illusion when his eyes glimmer the same way—tender and fiery.
 “But I crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you’d have to greet me with goodbye,” his voice sounds so much louder, so much heavier—especially with his eyes trained on you as he sang the lyrics out without waver.
 Your heart swells and you think, it’s unfair. It’s unfair that his eyes looked as if he was pleading for you not to go the same way you knew he would’ve had he only known you were leaving him that day.
 Suna was worn-out. Tired beyond effable means or description of words; and he thinks he couldn’t be more exhausted when he rattles on the doorknob of the home you shared with him, the place he came home to with you—only to find it locked. He’s too exhausted to notice the way the house felt emptier, seemed emptier like something—someone was missing when he pushes the key in and enters the place.
 Suna was too exhausted to think you’d be gone forever; too drained to ever consider that it’ll take a year since that day before he sees you again.
 Suna was too exhausted to notice the letter you left on the bedside table; too exhausted to notice you’ve been gone for a week until he comes home again for a break, only for his heart to break at the sight of the empty house. Empty; defined as: without you
 You don’t notice the tears cascading down your cheeks until you see the way Suna’s eyebrows furrowed together from the stage he stood on as he continued to sing, never once taking his eyes off of you, like he’s hurting from the way he watches you cry.
“I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise, take my hands off of your eyes too soon.” The ring placed as a pendant on the necklace around Suna’s neck glistened under the strobe lights dancing around suddenly felt heavier—so much heavier, as if it’s you who has your hands around his neck.
Maybe you do.
Maybe you do; because Suna runs off of the stage the moment the last beat of his lyrics come as he sees you finally looking away. Your figure slowly dimming away as the lights calm down to the beat of the song slowly dwindling away like you did—but never like the fire that burned in your chest at the sight of him.
You wish you could run but every step you took felt like you had boulders weighing down on your feet; as if no part of you wanted to go—and maybe that’s the miracle that Suna will forever thank whatever deity is out there for, because without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to you as you attempted to drag your body and walk away, trying not to look back.
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📞 violet is calling… all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.
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1K notes · View notes
jimlingss · 3 years
Note
(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!
↳ Playground Promises
1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin
The bell rings.
Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.
This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.
Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.
“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”
You hum.
Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.
“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”
“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”
You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”
The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”
Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.
“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 
Said boy grins and dashes off.
Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”
Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”
You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”
“That’s the problem.”
You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”
Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”
“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”
“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”
You look over and he meets your eye.
He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”
Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.
Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.
Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.
You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”
“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”
Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”
“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”
You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”
You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.
It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.
It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.
You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.
What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.
You still don’t know why he said yes.
“Ms. L/N!”
You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 
She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”
“Did you ask her to share?”
“Yes!”
Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 
“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.
“I am!”
“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”
“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”
It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.
While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 
“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.
“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.
“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”
You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”
“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 
At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 
“Do you want my kids?”
Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”
“Yeah….but…”
“But? Do you not want kids?” 
“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”
Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”
“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”
“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 
You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t….feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”
He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”
Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.
“Wh—”
“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”
“No, I haven’t.”
Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”
Jimin books it.
Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 
It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”
The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”
“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”
“I’ve always liked you.”
You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”
“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”
Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”
“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.
Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”
Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”
Suddenly, the bell rings.
All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.
“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”
You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.
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lord-explosion-baku · 3 years
Text
Trident Tale part 2
Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader
Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)
Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
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Original image by @maewoahoah
Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.
Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.
You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.
You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.
The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.
By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.
It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.
The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.
It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.
It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.
Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.
“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.
“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.
“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.
“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.
“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”
“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”
“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”
“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.
“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s gonna see you…”
“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”
“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”
“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.
What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”
“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”
Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.
He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.
Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.
“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.
In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.
“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.
“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”
God.
“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”
He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”
After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.
“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”
Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.
“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”
“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.
“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”
Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.
“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”
Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.
“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”
“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  
What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.
The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.
Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”
Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.
Tricky, magic fish-man.
“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”
The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.
They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.
Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.
“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”
“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”
In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.
“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.
“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”
“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”
“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”
You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”
“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”
Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”
“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”
“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.
“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”
“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.
“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”
It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”
“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”
“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”
“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”
“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”
Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.
I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.
Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.
“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.
At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”
“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.
“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”
“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.
Hitoshi frowns.
“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”
“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.
“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.
“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”
“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”
“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”
“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.
“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”
Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”
“He’s a fish, Denki.”
“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”
“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.
“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”
Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”
“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”
Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.
“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.
“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.
“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.
Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.
“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.
“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”
And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.
“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”
“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”
“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”
“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”
“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”
Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”
The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”
Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”
“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.
“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”
“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”
Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”
“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”
This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”
“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”
“Which would be?”
Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.
“Romantic rendezvous.”
“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”
Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”
You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”
Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.
“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”
Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.
“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”
“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”
Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”
To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.
There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.
“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”
At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.
“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”
“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”
Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.
“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”
“Decided what?” You ask.
“That the two of you are going to help me.”
The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”
“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.
Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”
Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?
Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”
“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”
“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”
“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.
On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.
“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”
Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”
“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”
“So good at questions,” you murmur.
“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.
“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”
“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”
“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”
“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.
“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”
Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.
“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”
Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.
However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.
“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”
The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.
“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”
“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.
“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”
“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”
At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.
“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”
Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.
“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”
“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”
“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”
“I have a boat.”
“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”
“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.
“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.
“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.
“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”
There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.
“So if we help you find these gems—“
“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.
“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”
“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”
“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.
“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”
Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.
“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”
“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”
Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.
“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”
Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.
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vidalinav · 3 years
Note
im so happy you’re accepting prompts!! just know that there’s no pressure at all, and that we love your writing🤍 prompt: cassian and nesta talk about whether they’d still inevitably end up together if they weren’t mates and just alot of fluffy sweet banter
I did yours first because I really appreciated you saying that there was no pressure in completing it. I felt that and I thought it was the nicest thing in the world.
BUT It came out really stupid sorry so... I'm not going to tag anyone. However I will own my shame so here you go.
It's banter in the form of pillow talk, where Cassian constantly keeps Nesta up by asking her questions. In my brain, he goes on tangents and Nesta is the pragmatic one. That's like... okay Cassian. But again. STUPID!!!!!
~
“Do you think it would have been me?” Cassian asks as he tries to count constellations in fresh paint. “If we didn’t have the bond... would it have been us? I guess the real question is did the bond choose us from the start--our relationship destined? Or did the bond see us... how we acted and felt about each other, and some cosmic force recognized our love?
Nesta shifts in the bed, her eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Cassian these are not the type of questions you ask right before bed.”
But he has to ask, he always has to ask. There’s something about the darkness that has these questions bubbling out of his throat. “But think about it Nesta, don’t you think we’re sort of... odd.”
Cassian thinks about it all the time. There's no one more perfect for him then her and yet, he sees the way people look at them. His hands will always be stained with blood and Nesta is more fitted for white gloves and lace. And he knows she can hold a sword and fight with the best of them, but Nesta can fit anywhere and Cassian can’t fit.
“I mean I understand opposites attract,” he rambles on, “and we do have similarities, but we mostly fought in the beginning and yet I still wanted you even then. Was my want for you a part of the bond? Or was the bond part of wanting you? And if it’s the first, in another universe, in another time, would it have been me? And if it’s the second what if you hadn’t wanted me, too.”
Cassian turns to face her, the bed creaking as he moves. He watches as she frowns, her lashes casting shadows on her cheek. “I promised we’d have that time, but I never considered that in another life it might not have been me at all.”
It's not the first time he keeps her awake with some question or another.
Usually, she merely sighs exhausted at what do you think the meaning of life is? Does time even exist if we really think about it... Do you ever think about how you can know a person you’re entire life and only scratch the surface of who they are? Does that mean you can never really know a person truly in the first place and if that’s the case aren’t we all living with practical strangers?
More often than not Nesta’s covering her ears with the pillow, groaning while Cassian tries to pull it from her face. They’ve had a hundred and one nights like this. He wants a million more.
Cassian tries to catch his breath, almost wishing she’d groan or sigh or roll her eyes, play it off like it’s a stupid question because it is. he knows it is.
“So tell me,” he says, his words a whisper of worry, “what do you think? Was it always going to be us?
Nesta's brows furrow quizzically and she purses her lips. “I don’t know if you can tell this about me Cassian, but I don’t like many people.”
Cassian frowns at the words, “Is that an answer?”
Nesta shrugs, “I find it hard to believe I would have loved anyone else.”
“So you’re with me... by process of elimination?”
“Or...” She offers, her gaze alight with mirth, “you’re the exception.”
Hmm.
Cassian needs to think on that one.
“But hypothetically, what would you have done if it wasn’t me?” he goads. “We only exist because you turned fae, what if you hadn’t? There may or may not be a bond but the relationship is impractical if you’re human and I’m fae. You’d just get married to some poor bloke who gives you this large diamond ring and you have 12 children?”
Nesta scoffs, “Twelve?”
“Whatever number,” Cassian dismisses.
Nesta raises her hands to stop him, “we are not having twelve children.”
“That’s... a topic for another day,” Cassian waves off.
“No,” Nesta sings, “that’s a topic I will resolve now. We are not having twelve kids.”
“But I want a big family,” Cassian pleads, grabbing her hands and giving her that look that he knows makes her take pity on him.
Nesta rolls her eyes. “You’re head is big enough to fill up the entire house. We have no room for that many people. No. No!”
“The House is four stories. What are we suppose to do with all those rooms?”
“Cassian unless you are birthing these babies yourself in which I will fully support you emotionally, spiritually, and financially, we are not having twelve children. End of discussion.”
Cassian only grumbles out a response.
“And regarding your other question, I don’t know what I would’ve done. That scenario doesn’t exist. I’m fae, you’re fae. That’s it and unless we plan on dying tomorrow, I don’t know if we’d end up together in the next life. I don’t know if the bond keeps us coming back to each other. I don’t care. I want this life with you. I chose you and you chose me and we’re here together. And I guess, if the bond, or what I deem as love, means I’m going to have to answer these questions every night, then I guess that’s what I’m going to do.”
Nesta reaches for him, and Cassian shifts to make room for her. She settles her head on his outstretched arm. It tickles at his skin, but he can’t believe she’s just satisfied enough with that answer.
“Would you have married someone else though?”
Nesta sighs, but Cassian waits for the answer. She groans, mumbling about not getting any sleep.
“Probably,” she says at last. “Yes. If you want that answer, then yes. But quite honestly knowing my character and knowing the males in my town, we probably wouldn’t have lasted long. I would have killed him long before we ever reached twelve.”
Cassian laughs and Nesta brightens at the sound.
“Or he might have run head first into a moving carriage on his own accord. I wouldn’t have judged him.”
“How would you kill him?”
Nesta smirks, her eyes maliciously bright. “Poison... knives... a trip down the stairs.”
“Make it look like an accident.”
“Of course,” Nesta beams.
“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Cassian says, noting his mate’s excitement.
Nesta sets her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along the rough stubble of his chin. “Murder is always on my mind.”
“I should probably stop keeping you up with my questions, then.”
Her lips are impossibly close to his, and he can feel her breath on his skin. “Maybe you should. I’m sure the House knows how to hide a body.”
Cassian laughs, the sound bright in the shadowed room. He’s sure that’s true and her lips raise at his calm shrug of acceptance. His eyes dart to her mouth.
Cassian wants to kiss her, but he has to tell her first.
“I love you.”
“I know,” she says, her lips nearly touching his.
Being near her is a relief. But hearing her speak is something else entirely. Maybe he asks her these questions because he wants to hear her voice into the last moments of the day. At all hours of the night.
Nesta wraps her hand around his hair and tugs.
But another question forms in his mind. “Would you’re family have approved of me?”
Nesta rolls her eyes, pulling away from him. Cassian grasps her arms, pulling her back. “Hey, come on now. You’ve indulged me this far.”
Nesta pretends to think about her answer, and as he waits she looks to the ceiling as if she’s actually thinking about it. Cassian can practically hear crickets.
“It’s taking you this long!”
“Well... I’m trying to be accurate!” She throws up her hands. “You know maybe they wouldn’t, because you’re not... princely. No offense.”
“None taken,” He remarks. Because he knows all too well the differences between them. Cassian doesn’t mind. She’ll be his queen. He can be her guard. Her knight. Whatever keeps her next to him.
“But then again, maybe they would because you are rich--hey!”
Nesta catches the pillow he throws and she throws it back at him. He catches it easily before it hits his face.
“Who hits their mate upside the head?” She yells.
Cassian rolls his eyes, “You hit me all the time.”
“I smack your butt. That is not the same.”
Cassian scoffs, “You won’t let me smack your butt.”
“That’s because you try to do it in public places!”
“Oh, so you’re okay if I tap your ass in private. You trying to tell me something Nes? Who knew you'd like to be spanked?”
Her cheeks redden and Cassian shrugs, thinking about it. "Actually I should've known that."
“I change my mind," She announces, grabbing his pillow, "they’d hate you and you know what? I would marry that man and I’d have twelve beautiful children!”
Then Nesta simply turns away from him and pulls the blanket over her head.
Cassian tries to pull the blanket down, but she doesn't loosen her grip. “Take that back! Nesta, take that back. I’m serious.”
“Nesta!” He hisses. “Nes, I’m not going to stop bothering you. Nesta!”
But Cassian slumps as the lump of blankets stays still. Nesta doesn’t even make a sound. 
“How about I pretend you didn’t just tell me about one of your fantasies and I'll bring it back up later. I’ll even pretend I found it in one of your books."
He rubs at what he thinks is her ass and Nesta shoves down the blankets with a flourish. Her hair is a mess of tangles all over the pillow.
“I hate you,” she says.
Cassian grins, setting his palms on her reddened cheeks.
“I love you,” He says softly, lightly tracing her soft skin with his thumb. It’s a privilege to be near her, to touch her, to be loved by her. To laugh and laugh and laugh. It doesn’t matter how, when, what, or why. “I wouldn’t want anyone else but you.”
Cassian kisses her lightly, “I still think we should talk about those children though.”
He merely gets smacked in the face with a pillow.
~
Fin.
~
I keep reading this and I can't make it better, so.... you win some, you lose some, you know.
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haikyuucute · 4 years
Text
Untamable (Ushijima Wakatoshi) [Omegaverse AU]
Pairing: Alpha!Ushijima x omega!reader
Summary: You seemed like an untamable omega to Ushijima
Warnings: Sexual themes, implied smut
Word Count: 5.6k
[A/N]: So I’ve been rlly iffy about posting this bcuz I know that this au isn’t everyone’s favorite. But I rlly like this au and I have fun writing for it, so I figured if someone doesn’t like it then they can scroll past it or blacklist the tag ‘omegaverse’ anyway, so I decided to go ahead and post this
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Ushijima Wakatoshi liked order and he liked things that made sense. He was a simple man and he would call it like he’d see it.
And what made sense to him was the dynamic system. Alphas were placed at the top, then betas, then omegas.
He believed this was right because it was ingrained in everyone’s genetics to follow this order.
It was why Hinata Shouyou had affected him so deeply. He was small, his volleyball technique was a mess and yet he and Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa.
Ushijima considered himself to be a very strong alpha— possibly the strongest in Shiratorizawa. His presence commanded every area he was in and omegas would fall silent at his scent, waiting for him to speak first. He had even been dubbed the alpha of alphas in school.
So it didn’t make sense for Hinata to have so much baseless confidence. It annoyed him and got under his skin to the point he thought about it quite often and how he could win next time.
Another thing that got under his skin was the little omega he shared a couple classes with— only she annoyed him far more than Hinata did.
Because while the little orange haired boy was a weak alpha, he was still just that. An alpha.
And yet, you walked around with the confidence of an alpha.
You were definitely the outcast, most omegas found you annoying and most alphas didn’t like to bother with an omega that didn’t know their place. Your scent wasn’t sweet and delicate like an omega’s either, it was tangy and citrusy (not at all a bad smell, even Ushijima would admit it was nice, just not that of an omegas). And worst of all, if you stepped out of line and an alpha tried to put you back in your place, you’d stick up your nose, turn the other way around, and continue with what you were doing in the first place.
This behavior always sat wrong with him but he never had to come into close contact with you, he’d just catch instances of this in class or in the hallways. Always hating the way you demanded to be seen.
And Ushijima knew he wasn’t in the wrong because everyone had found you strange. You didn’t even have any friends until your third year of high school when you shared your first class with the renowned Guess Monster.
Tendou, Ushijima, and you all shared a science class your third year, and though Ushijima had prior knowledge of you, it was the first time Tendou ever really noticed you.
And being dubbed a freak himself, Tendou immediately wanted to befriend you and it was only a short while after that he noticed how much you got under Ushijima’s skin.
So as a fellow freak and probably the only person other than Hinata that could get a rise out of the usually stoic alpha— well, Tendou just had to become your best friend.
Thus it began.
Tendou inviting you to work on group projects with him and Ushijima.
Tendou then inviting you to watch practices.
Tendou invited you to games.
And worst of all— Tendou invited you to hang out in his and Ushijima’s dorm.
And you quickly became someone Ushijima had to endure all day, every day.
You knew right from the beginning when you started hanging out with Tendou that the great Ushiwaka didn’t want anything to do with you. If you tried to talk to him he’d answer with four words at most or blatantly ignore you all together (then again he did that with everyone, but with you it just somehow felt different). And that was because although he was a strong alpha, he had better things to do than put an omega back in their place.
So he put up with you for days— weeks— months— until suddenly he couldn’t.
In what Tendou liked to call the “staring contest of the year” you had outwardly challenged Ushijima. But!— in your defense it was on an outrageously ridiculous subject that you believed you had the right to believe and that Ushijima should’ve respected that regardless of his own biases.
It was an argument that took place in their dorm while the two of them were there. You had casually walked in, an agitated look on your face, exclaiming:
”I hate alphas!” You yelled, pushing their door open. You ignored Ushijima who sent you a slightly irritated glance from where he was seated at his desk, reading a volleyball magazine or something, and went immediately over to the giggling Tendou.
He was up on his bed on the top bunk and you climbed the ladder, seating yourself next to where he was sprawled out, with a pout on your face.
”Should I be offended~” he laughed.
”You don’t count.”
”That’s more offensive than your last statement.”
You rolled your eyes, “Fine, you’re the exception— but alphas suck.”
He moved closer, throwing an arm around you with a large grin, “Did something happen? Do tell, (F/N)-chan~” he sang.
“Well... I may have gotten into another fight with an omega.”
”Ohoho~ did you win?”
”I guess. She pulled my hair so I punched her and... found out she has a mate.”
Tendou burst into another fit of laughter, and started poking your side, “Did you try fighting an alpha again?”
You swatted his hands away, “I just stood up for myself.”
”And how’d that go?”
”Stupid. He came up to me and did that dumb alpha thing where they stand up straighter and puff their chests out with the expectation that I’d be a cowering little omega in their presence,” you scoffed, “He told me that I shouldn’t step out of line and start fights with mated omegas, which is total bullshit because she pulled my hair first!” You yelled, falling back against his bed. “I hate alphas!”
“You punched his mate,” Ushijima who usually ignored you whenever you were over spoke up for the first time.
You furrowed your eyebrows, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Yeah, cause she pulled my hair.”
”She was wrong too.”
You scoffed, “So what? The alpha was in the right?”
”You punched his mate, he was protecting her.”
You shot up and glared at Ushijima who was still reading his magazine. ”Well I was protecting myself.” You practically hissed out.
Ushijima finally stopped what he was doing and turned around to stare up at you from where you were seated on Tendou’s bed.
Tendou’s eyes flitted back and forth between the two of you, seeing how pissed off you were, and at how Ushijima was taken aback at the tone you used with him, and Tendou’s grin slowly widened.
”You speak as if you’re an alpha,” Ushijima said, eyebrows slightly furrowed.
”I speak like an omega who’s fed up with alphas,” you spat back.
Ushijima slowly stood up and you could smell his scent had changed. It was stronger and more powerful— definitely covering up yours and some of Tendou’s scent. And you could pretty much smell how annoyed and pissed he was with you.
And as a result you felt the omega in you want to apologize and take everything back, bowing your head down, too weak to make eye contact. It was a feeling you had become quite accustomed to with how often alphas did this to you, and you became quite good at ignoring those instincts.
But Ushijima was stronger than all those alphas, and Tendou watched in awe as the most strong willed omega he’s ever met started to shrink in her seat, eyes glued to her lap.
Ushijima stood in front of you, and due to his height he was nearly eye level with you despite you sitting up on the top bunk.
“You’re careless,” He spoke lowly, as blunt as ever, “You speak the first thing that comes to mind with no regard if you offend someone, and you’re surprised when an alpha tries to put you back in your place. You’re an omega.” His voice loud and firm, “Power does not lean in your favor. Learn your place.”
You bit down on your lip hard, finding it difficult to meet his eyes but with everything you had in you, you forced yourself up straight and looked him dead in the eye.
Tendou’s eyes widened at your display but he kept quiet, glancing at how the usually stoic Ushijima looked slightly thrown off guard.
“I will never settle for being submissive,” you spoke slowly, never breaking your eye contact, “And I will never stop striving for independence. You like this power system because it’s all you’ve ever known— I’ll show you that you’re wrong and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
From there the two of you stared at each other for what felt like forever, Tendou holding his breath to see who would give in first. Until it was finally time to go to volleyball practice and Ushijima was forced to look away, making you smile triumphantly.
And so it began. The start of an overly exhausting plan that you were committed to executing.
And if Ushijima thought you were a nuisance before it was nothing compared to now.
A few days after the incident you acted as if it never happened, putting on a cheery and energetic façade. And you actually spoke to him in that same friendly manner you spoke to Tendou and others on the team.
He soon realized there would be no end to your chatter. You’d go on and on about your day, shows and movies you liked, hobbies that you were into, and you’d ask him tons and tons of questions that he’d just ignore but you wouldn’t shut up, forcing him to answer your questions— you even started calling him Waka-kun while you remained (L/N)-san.
But you didn’t care. You vowed that you’d force your way into his heart until he finally saw you as an equal instead of an overly obnoxious omega.
It took months but somehow, by some kind of miracle, Ushijima came to the conclusion... you actually weren’t that bad.
Of course you were still loud, kind of annoying, and spoke out of turn most of the time. But he guessed that some of your better qualities started sticking out the more you hung around him.
For one, you were always happy.
Happiness wasn’t an emotion Ushijima felt often, he knew the feeling of victory when he defeated a difficult opponent in volleyball but that never lasted that long because, well— Ushijima always won...(for the most part). And he knew what it felt like to be satisfied and generally content.
But the happiness you exuded. This absolutely boundless amount of energy and cheerfulness you walked around with despite being put down by practically the entire student body, it made you slightly more admirable in his eyes.
And then he saw your loyalty and devotion towards the team and specifically Tendou. By definition, Tendou was technically your best friend and you made sure to prioritize him in your life because of how grateful you were to call him a friend, this meant inviting him out places and never turning down an invitation he made. You let him talk to you when he was down and comforted and supported him appropriately. And when it came to the team, you were kind of an honorary manager (you didn’t actually have the title because the coach would never trust an omega to do the job) but you gave them water bottles and towels during practice and made sure to attend all their games and cheer for them. So even the team who had been kind of cold to you in the beginning, ended up growing rather fond of you, and you were just as happy to consider them your friends.
But he supposed what stuck out to him the most was how determined you were to be more acquainted with him. You’d ask about his day, his childhood, volleyball, anything really. And you somehow had the ability to pull more than a couple words from his mouth as time went on.
And all from the shadows, the Guess Monster was watching. Observing how a very odd friendship grew between the two of you. And although Ushijima rarely let any emotion of any kind show, after three months Tendou made an educated guess.
Ushijima Wakatoshi was actually falling for you.
From a surface level no one could really tell, but Tendou started picking up on the way Ushijima’s scent would change whenever you were near, it’d grow softer, and slightly more non threatening than his usual scent. It was a small detail but spoke volumes. Other than that, he noticed more and more how he grew comfortable around you, letting you talk his ear off and he’d answer your questions with more than three words. But what gave it away for him was when he had stepped into one of your fights where an omega started yelling at you for acting too much like an alpha. It was the first time he had ever done it and although you told him you could fight your own battles, he doubted it would be the last fight Ushijima broke up for you.
With you it was actually harder to tell if you were starting to like Ushijima back, and this was based off of all your rants he’s heard about you never wanting to mate with an alpha and that you’d much rather mate with a beta. It was hard to picture you with an alpha and even harder to picture you with an alpha as strong as Ushijima.
But he, figured out that yes— you did reciprocate those feelings when he caught a certain sight.
You went out with Tendou and Ushijima one night and stayed up late, you were absolutely exhausted so Ushijima ended up giving you a piggyback ride back to your dorm. And that’s when Tendou noticed the way you nuzzled your face into his neck. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to scent yourself or if you just found his scent soothing enough to fall asleep to— but either way there were definitely mutual feelings there.
The only problem was that the two of you were too dense to acknowledge those feelings.
So as usual Tendou decided to take it upon himself to get the two of you closer.
He came up with a fairly simple but hopefully effective plan.
Not that long ago you came to Tendou and asked if he’d been willing to give you volleyball lessons every now and then after you came to really admire the sport after watching them play for so long. And he agreed of course.
So now it was just a matter of getting Ushijima to take his place—
“I won’t be able to make our volleyball lesson (F/N)-chan,” Tendou suddenly spoke up from where he laid on the floor.
He watched as your head poked over the top bunk where you lay, a pout on your face, “What? Why not?” You whined.
”I’ll be busy this weekend, but!” He suddenly exclaimed, looking over at Ushijima, “Maybe Wakatoshi-kun could take my place.”
”No,” came Ushijima’s answer, from where he sat on his bed.
Tendou frowned at how dense he could be.
You pouted further, “Waka-kun would be mean about it if he helped me anyway.”
”Don’t be silly—“
”I’m not! I can picture it now!” You suddenly made a very serious face, mimicking Ushijima’s, “(L/N)-chan you have awful technique. (L/N)-chan you understand nothing about volleyball. (L/N)-chan you suck.”
Tendou giggled at that, seeing your point, “You’d also be getting taught by a top player in the nation~” he sang.
You paused for a moment, thinking it over, “... We’d probably get in a fight though and I hate arguing with him.”
”You hate it because you lose,” Ushijima spoke up.
”Shut up!” You yelled, moving to hang over the edge of the bed to see him.
He glanced up at your upside down form, “l’m right.”
And since he was always painfully blunt and honest, you knew he actually was right, so you settled on pouting further.
”Y’know people would kill to have someone like Wakatoshi teach them volleyball,” Tendou said, continuing to convince you, “He’s the best of the best, don’t you want to be the best~”
”I’m not that passionate about volleyball,” you deadpanned.
He faltered, until a thought struck him, and he grinned, “Remember that time you tagged along with the team to the beach and we were short one person for volleyball and asked you to play?”
You glared darkly at him for reminding you about that humiliating incident— they were a powerhouse school after all, why the hell would they ask you to play when you had barely any experience. “Yes,” you muttered.
”Well what if Wakatoshi-kun taught you a few of his tricks and you got to show off next time we play together.”
He knew he had you when your eyes widened in realization.
You looked back down at Ushijima from where you hung upside down, “Waka-kun teach me volleyball.”
”No,” he replied, looking down at his homework.
”Please.”
”No.”
”Please.”
”No.”
”Please.”
”No.”
“Ugh— why notttt,” you whined.
”Because you don’t play volleyball.”
”Well I want to show off to the team the next time you guys force me to play.”
”You still wouldn’t be as good as them.”
You frowned, “I already know that, but you don’t always have to say the truth.”
Ushijima couldn’t help himself when he looked back up at you, something in your tone bothering him. And the pout and look in your eyes really bothered him for some reason. But he didn’t like being the cause of it and he really wanted to see it leave your face.
“Fine,” he gave in. He watched as your face instantly lit up, a smile gracing your features and it admittedly made him feel weirder than when you were upset.
You flipped off the top bunk to Ushijima’s bed and threw your arms around his shoulders in a hug, “Thank you Waka-kun~” you sang.
And Tendou grinned from ear to ear, watching as Ushijima’s face tinted the lightest of pinks.
——
“You’re late,” Ushijima grunted as he watched you burst through the gym doors, trying to catch your breath.
”I know!” You panted, “I got held up by a teacher.” You said, throwing your bag to the ground. You made your way over to Ushijima who was previously practicing by himself as he waited. “Now, you can’t be mean remember, this is just for fun. It’s not like I’m gonna be using this in any actual tournaments, this is just to shut the team up the next time they make fun of me for sucking at volleyball.”
He nodded and the two of you started.
You quickly figured out that playing volleyball with Ushijima was very different than when you’d play with Tendou. Tendou was always goofing around and joking with you but with Ushijima he was unsurprisingly very serious, so it was up to you to lighten the mood. But you had to admit he was a pretty good teacher and kept the rude comments to a minimum, which was a feat on its own because he very rarely censored himself and you knew you weren’t doing to well.
It was well into the hour when shit finally hit the fan.
Ushijima asked you to toss him the ball to demonstrate him hitting a spike. So you did and as usual because of his strong spikes, the ball ended up rolling off, landing by your bag on the other side of the gym.
You offered to go get it, and in hindsight you really wished you did. But Ushijima said it was fine and went off to grab the ball.
When he went to pick it up, he noticed the zipper of your bag was opened and something inside caught his eye. He glanced back at you to see you looking down at your phone, before he brought his attention back to the object and pulled it out. His eyebrows furrowed.
It was a pill bottle and the label told him they were heat suppressants. But that wasn’t what caught his eye.
The date said they were prescribed about a month ago and the bottle was already three quarters gone.
He stood up straight and turned, “What are these?” He called out to you, making you look up.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Idiot, are you going through my bag? Put those back and get back over here.” You rolled your eyes.
He only listened to half of what you said as he held the bottle and walked back, “(L/N)-chan, what is this?”
You looked at him confusedly, “They’re heat suppressants or did you forget that I’m an omega and go through heats?”
”More than half of them are gone.”
You faltered, realizing he checked the date on them. But you played it cool and shrugged, “So?”
”It’s dangerous to have that many suppressants in a month.”
You rolled your eyes, “What? Are you suddenly an omega now? They’re my pills, I can use them how I want.”
You could see Ushijima getting frustrated now, “The side effects of this many can be harmful to your body.”
”I’m fine— I’m more than fine. I haven’t had to go through a heat in a while and I’ve been functioning just the same, only it’s better now because I don’t have to deal with heats.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean by ‘a while’?” He asked worried to hear just how long you were putting your body through this. Suppressants were meant to make heats easier, not stop them all together.
“Nothing, it really doesn’t matter,” you said in an attempt to brush it off.
”How long (L/N)-chan?”
You clenched your jaw, looking down at the ground, not answering.
”How long,” his voice became darker and firmer.
You hated it but when he used that tone, you found it difficult to deny, “A....a year.” You muttered.
Ushijima’s eyes widened in shock and horror, and it was probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “You missed four heats?”
”Well.... yeah.”
”You can’t do that to your body—“
”Why not?” You snapped, looking up at him, “It’s my body isn’t it? And my heats are my business. I’ve been completely fine up till now anyway.”
”What about your next heat? You have to have one eventually and if you’ve missed four, your next heat will be unbearable.”
”That’s only for some people,” you scoffed, “I could be completely fine.”
”And if you’re not? You don’t have a mate.”
”Why do you even care!” You huffed.
”Because—“ you’re my omega.
Ushijima completely stopped as the thought popped in his head. He was caught so off guard by that he forgot his argument.
But he did his best to compose himself before stating, “I’m keeping these.”
You scowled, “Like hell you are!” You yelled before leaping for the pill bottle, but he just held it over his head and out of your reach. You grabbed his arm and tried to pull it down but he would barely budge, “Ushijima this isn’t funny!” You yelled out in anger and slight panic.
He ignored the slight sting he felt at hearing his last name, but he didn’t give in, “This is for your own good.”
”Fuck my own good! I need those pills— I can’t go through another heat!”
”You’re an omega,” he snapped, “You can’t keep pretending you’re an alpha. Heats are necessary, learn your place already.”
And there were those words you absolutely despised, ‘learn your place’.
You blinked back the frustrated tears, “I’m leaving,” you scoffed. And with that you quickly ran out, grabbing your bag and leaving a very pissed off alpha behind you.
Tendou had no idea how things could get so screwed up the one time he got you two alone together.
You ended up avoiding Ushijima at all costs and Ushijima being who he was was definitely not going to approach you first when he believed he was right.
But Tendou could only handle so much of this stupid fight before trying to convince the two of you to make up.
But you said you’d only forgive him if he gave you your pills back and Ushijima said he wasn’t going to. So when Tendou got you to swear to Ushijima that you’d use them properly was he then able to sway Ushijima into giving them back.
So he did and you forgave him.
Of course there was still some resentment and animosity about the whole thing, but after a couple weeks things were back to normal more or less.
That was until that inevitable day approached.
You hadn’t come to class which wasn’t unusual because you liked to skip every once in a while, so Ushijima and Tendou didn’t think much of it at first.
That was until they overheard a conversation between two omegas not too far from them.
”The entire history hallway literally smells like omega.” The one girl complained.
”Really?” Her friend asked, “What happened.”
She shrugged, “Dunno. I think some omega went into heat, but my god is it strong. I think they locked themselves in a supply closet, there’s a group of as alphas just outside the door.”
”I feel kinda bad. We should tell someone to go help them. Do we know who the omega is?”
”Everyone’s pretty sure it’s (L/N) since the scent is pretty citrusy. Her roommate also told me she takes suppressants like they’re candy so it makes sense.”
Suddenly Ushijima had stood up. Tendou looked up at the alpha with a questioning gaze, but as he watched him just head straight for the door, a grin grew on his face as he knew where this was headed.
You were a mess as you hid away inside the supply closet. The heat had randomly hit you out of no where without a single warning. The most you were able to do was quickly lock yourself in the closet. And now you were left trembling in a curled up ball in the corner of the room.
You were hot everywhere and covered in a layer of sweat. Your chest rose and fell in breathy pants and the uncomfortable pool of wetness in your panties was getting really distracting.
And on top of all that, there was a group of alphas just outside calling out to you. You couldn’t make out what they were saying because of how overwhelmed you felt but their scents were definitely accelerating the heat.
And dread filled you at the thought of Ushijima being right. All four heats that you missed just hit you all at once.
This was the most helpless you’ve ever felt.
...Then you smelled it.
A scent far more overpowering than the alphas scents combined. And a scent you knew all to well. Heavy and woody— a scent that made your head spin and squeeze your legs together as a broken whimper left your throat.
The others had scattered in fear, soon leaving you alone with Ushijima Wakatoshi’s scent.
Ushijima walked in, easily breaking the lock. His gaze was intense as usual but there was also something else in his eyes as he found you curled up on the ground of the supply closet, in heat.
And even in the presence of an omega in a heat extreme as yours, Ushijima showed an incredible display over his instincts as he barely seemed bothered by it. The only thing that gave him away was how his breathing slowed, taking in deeper breaths as what was probably the prettiest and most mouth watering scent he ever smelled flooded his senses.
His presence commanded the area and the air reeked of his scent, and as tough as you were, even you fell weak to the presence of an alpha while in heat— and the so called alpha of alphas no less.
Your legs were squeezed tight as you buried your face in your knees, covering your nose from his scent.
”(L/N),” he said, voice deep and a touch of anger in it.
You whimpered, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.
”Waka-kun,” your voice came out weak, broken, and muffled, it had even made Ushijima falter for a second, uneasy seeing you act so helpless. “I-I can’t— I can’t do this,” you shook your head, the tears running down your face now. “I-it’s barely even started and— and th-this feels worse than m-my worst heat.” You sniffled, body trembling and shaking now.
”I told you not to take those suppressants.”
A broken moan came out after hearing his rumbling voice and you squeezed your legs tighter— how embarrassing.
In truth, Ushijima greatly disliked seeing you like this, especially after developing such a fondness over the tough and fiery omega that used to drive him mad (and still does from time to time.) But there was still something he greatly enjoyed with seeing how submissive you were being in front of him— as long as he was the only one that got to see you like this. So what you said next, sparked something in him.
”D...do y-you know an a-alpha that... can help?” Your words were broken up with sobs and stifled moans.
And a strong sense of possessiveness washed over him at the thought of another alpha possibly aiding you through this heat.
”That won’t be necessary,” he spoke curtly, “Stand up,” he said, walking forward.
You clamped your hand tighter over your nose, suffocating on his scent, and you shook your head furiously, “I-I don’t know if I c-can—“
”Stand,” and there was no arguing with the Alpha tone in his voice, your body wouldn’t let you.
So on trembling knees you shakily stood up, holding your breath as you used the wall for support as you leaned against it.
Something wild was overtaking Ushijima’s senses at seeing how fragile and delicate you looked, and he stalked forward, eyes heavy with an intense gaze on you.
And he was now in front of you as you stared down at the ground, waiting for what he’d do next as you tried your best to stay composed by attempting to ignore his presence.
Suddenly, he raised his hand to cup your jaw, his other hand gripping your wrist to pull it away from your nose. And the absolute predatorial look in his eyes would’ve knocked you to your knees if the wall wasn’t there to support you.
He stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear away. “From tonight onwards you’re mine.” He growled before lifting your jaw up further.
You moaned at that and quickly nodded, “I-I’m yours.”
”I don’t care if you always want to fight back as long as you understand that right now, I’m in charge.” He said as his thumb traced your bottom lip before tugging down on it. And the second after you nodded, he crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss.
Your resolve immediately crumbled and you easily melted into the kiss, collapsing into him. A cry left your lips which was promptly swallowed by Ushijima. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you tried rutting against his thigh. But he quickly grabbed ahold of your hips, stilling you.
You whined into his mouth, “Please Waka-kun.”
”Patience,” he commanded, making you quickly shut your mouth. “I’m going to take care of you,” and with that he picked you up.
He walked with you in his arms through the deserted hallway, making his way towards the dormitories, specifically his.
And as he walked through the school building, classes having been just let out, he ignored the stares and stunned silence from his peers as they gawked at the sight of the Alpha of Shiratorizawa Academy walking with the little annoying omega of the school in his arms, who was clearly in heat.
But right now all that was on his mind was getting you back to his dorm safely so he could spend the next how ever many days fucking you until all you could possibly remember was his name.
Ushijima unlocked his dorm door, seeing an already grinning Tendou sitting upon his bed, “Well didn’t this work out nicely?” He teased.
”Tendou I need the—“
He raised his hands in surrender, “I know, I know,” he said getting up, his eyes landing on you for a second, “Definitely a sight I never thought I’d see,” he mused at seeing you so submissive in Ushijima’s arms, before practically singing, “Have fun~” on his way out.
Ushijima kicked the door shut before walking over to his bed and dropping you on it. You were sprawled out on your back, absolutely breathless.
His own breathing was beginning to become more and more labored as your heat was pushing him into a rut.
”You’re going to behave?” He asked.
You nodded, a mewl escaping your lips as you rubbed your thighs together.
”Use your words.”
”Y-yes alpha,” you managed to get out, a glint reaching his eye at the title.
”Good. Now....bare your neck.”
You scrambled to do as he said, and a slight smirk grazed his lips at the sight, a sense of pride, similar to when he won tournaments, washed over him.
You kneeled up on your knees, titling your head to the side for him.
He smiled, cupping the side of your face, before leaning down to mark you.
So yes, Ushijima would put up with your fiery attitude and need to go against everything everyone tells you to do, as long as he’d be the one to get to see you like this.
Because for the first time since he’s known you.
You were finally listening.
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band--psycho · 3 years
Text
Jax Teller x Reader-Valentines Day Drama
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(Credit to the gif owner)
Y/ns POV
He told me what time he’d be back and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t keeping a sharp eye on the clock as it counted down, waiting for Jax’s arrival home. I had everything planned out, a nice romantic dinner which was still cooking away in the oven, followed by his favourite dessert which I’d already made during the day. Then we’d probably have a nice relaxing bath or a quick shower together (depending on how his day with the club had been) and then we’d spend the rest of the evening in bed, celebrating the day in the most perfect way possible. Making love in every way we could, rough and dirty, slow and passionate...all of it. Granted I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow but that was a price I was more than willing to pay. I was just looking forward to spending the evening with him, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d spent time like this together; he was so busy with the club we rarely ever got to spend proper time together. I understood it all, the club needed him..but  I just missed him and I knew that tonight would be the perfect day for us to reconnect. 
The candles were lit, the dinner was plated and set at the table and I watched with anticipation as the clock struck 6pm. I couldn’t help the small frown that came on my face when I didn’t hear the familiar sound of Jaxs’ bike, but I just told myself that he was running a little bit late.
The hours passed by, painfully slowly. I’d tried calling him but his phone just kept going straight to voicemail. I’d practically drank half of the bottle of whiskey I’d brought for us to share, blown the candles out, thrown the dinner away and just sat in the darkness as I waited for him. By the time I heard the familiar hum I’d been dying to hear all evening four and a half hours had passed and in all honesty, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to see Jax right now.   
“Darlin?” I heard him ask, but I didn’t turn round to face him, I just stared at the wall, trying to stop the tears from falling from my eyes as well as trying to stop myself from letting all of the anger that was boiling in my veins out. But I was jogged from my thoughts when I felt Jaxs hands on my shoulder, lightly gripping it causing my attention to focus back on him as he knelt infront of me. 
“Darlin’ I am so sorry I was late,” he apologises, the sincerity is in his voice, but I couldn’t help the scoff that slipped past my lips as I did so. Flashbacks of all the missed, cancelled or postponed dates racing through my head, making me grip tighten on the glass I was holding. 
“Y/n/n..say something,”
“What do you want me to say Jax?” I  snapped, the pent up anger flooding out into a harsh tone.  I saw his eyes raise in shock; in all the time I’d known him, I’d never spoken to him like this but at this point I didn’t even care. I was mad. And in all honesty, I was done hiding it.
“I spent all day waiting for you to come home, I had a whole evening planned and you couldn’t even call to tell me you were going to be late!” The anger in my voice did not falter once as I slid the glass onto the table before my grip shattered it. 
“Y/n/n...some shit came up with the club-”
“Some shit always comes up with the club, Jax!” I yelled back, interrupting him. 
“It was important Y/n/n/! I couldn’t just up and leave! I needed to fix the shit that was going on!” Jax answered back, the anger in his voice growing as his eyes burned into me.
“And what about fixing shit between us, Jax?” I asked harshly, running a hand through my hair. 
“Y/n-” he attempted, in a softer voice as he slowly made his way towards me. 
“Your top priority is always the club,” I spat. I knew it wasn’t rational. I knew Jax was desperately trying to diffuse the situation but I couldn’t see past the red mist that had descended. 
“Because they’re my family!” He retorted back, the fire in his eyes growing harsher and harsher.
“So what am I, to you Jax? Some whore who’ll give you comfort when you need it?” The words left my mouth before I’d even fully registered what I’d said. The fire in Jaxs’ vanished as soon as he heard those words. He attempted to open his mouth, more than likely to apologise..but I was too angry to hear any of it and before he could say anything else I made my way towards the door, swinging it open.
“Where are you going?” Jax asked, though he didn't move from where he previously was. It was like he was frozen in place. 
“For a damn walk,” I replied, slamming the door behind me as I left the house. 
Third Person POV
Jax knew better than to follow her when she was in a mood like this, he also knew that there was nothing he could say that could make up for how he’d been acting lately nor what he’d said to her and how he said it. He knew what she was talking about, he’d felt the distance that she was talking about and he hated it just as much as she did. He missed her but he couldn’t just spend fleeting moments with her, it only made him miss her more and then he couldn’t focus on the task at hand. The club was in some deep shit and he didn’t want to involve her with it. He stupidly thought that putting some distance between them would make things easier...that he’d be able to come home and forget all about the issues with the club but in doing so he avoided looking at the problem that was causing them as a couple. He brushed off the way her smile would slightly falter when he’d cancel a date or the disappointment in her voice when he rearranged; he constantly promised himself that he’d make it up to her when everything with the club was sorted but it just kept on getting worse and soon enough there was no ‘right time’ to tell her all about it. 
“So what am I to you, Jax? Some whore who’ll give you comfort when you need it?” Those words echoed round and round in his head. He hated it. Hated the fact that she felt this way. Growing up with her, he’d seen all the shit boyfriends she’d had and the one thing they all had in common was treating her like shit. When he started feeling more than friendship towards her, he made a promise, not only to himself but to her too that he would always treat her how she deserved to be treated like a princess. Sliding down the wall in the room he realised he hadn’t been doing a lot of that lately, instead he’d been doing the very thing he promised that he wouldn’t do. He pulled a cigarette out of the packet , letting out a deep sigh as he lit it. The tears brimming in his eyes as the cigarette connected with his lips; thoughts about him and Y/n/n running through his head.
~~~~~~~~
Y/n had intended to go for a long walk to clear her head, but she’d only taken a few steps away from the house when a wave of regret and sadness washed over her. She hated fighting with Jax, hated how angry she’d got so angry at him and how she let the alcohol she’d drunk take over her mouth revealing all of the thoughts she’d only ever kept to herself. Y/n knew she’d been harsh towards him and out of order; she knew what he and the club were like before she agreed to date him so none of this should’ve been a surprise to her. And maybe it wasn’t necessarily a surprise to her, maybe what was a surprise to her was how much she missed him while he was away. 
Y/n had no idea how much time had passed, but knew that sooner or later she would have to go inside and face Jax. She tried to work out what she could say to him as an apology but nothing she could think of made up for how she treated him, nevertheless, the air was growing colder so she decided to bite the bullet so to say. She took a deep breath attempting to calm herself before pushing the door open and re-entering the house. 
~~~~~~~~
Y/ns POV
The room was bathed in a sea of darkness, had it not been for the dim light of Jaxs’ cigarette I wouldn’t have known where he was. Tentatively I approached him, I felt a pang of guilt in my heart as I saw his tear stained cheeks. Slowly, I slid down the wall so I was sitting next to him, not knowing what to say to him. For a while we sat in silence until Jax grabbed his ashtray, putting out his cigarette. 
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, turning to him and slowly wiping away the tears that lingered on his cheeks. Instinctively he raised his hand to mine, placing a soft kiss on my palm before whispering “I’m sorry,” back to me. 
“I shouldn’t have said what I did…” I admitted, trying to hold back the sob that was building in my throat. 
“You said how you felt, darlin’,” he reassured, pulling me closer to him, he placed a light kiss on the top of my head before continuing to say, “you’re always gonna be my family, Y/n, I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone else and I’m so sorry I haven’t made you feel like that.” before I could respond he lightly hooked his finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him; his eyes lingered on mine for a moment, glancing down at my lips momentarily before tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. And then he placed his soft lips on mine. This kiss wasn’t fast or rough like a lot of our kisses had been recently. Instead, it was slow and passionate, like we were exploring every fibre of each other's kiss. Just like the first time we kissed.
“I can’t change the past, darlin’, but I promise you, I’m gonna do my best to remind you every single day how much I love you,” as he said those words he slowly rose to his feet, I did the same but before I could fully stand up I felt Jaxs’ arms wrap around my body picking me up bridal style as he carried me off to our bedroom, muttering sweet nothings in my ear and after every whisper he’d place a soft and delicate kiss on my forehead.
If you want a part 2 let me know?🤷🏼‍♀️
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an icarus and his sun: chapter 5
A/N: it's formal ball time :) where nothing will go wrong :) (also this morning i saw a tweet from scott smajor casually mentioning he looked at the empires smp tag on tumblr AND mentioning something about liking the "art and stories." so i've been dealing with the mortifying possibility of being known all morning, hope y'all are having a good day/night/whenever aksfdgkl)
Warnings: kissing, explosions, betrayal, violence, swordfights, mild disassociation 
AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost
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The night of the House Blossom Ball had arrived. Jimmy had to admit, getting Lizzie’s help with an outfit was a good idea. He wore a black suit with intricate, swirling bronze details that shimmered when the light hit them. He had a dark green bowtie as a nod to his empire, and he had indeed ditched the cod head. Instead, he wore a bronze colored masquerade mask that looked like two cod fish curling around his eyes, their fins spreading out and covering his forehead. It felt weird to have his hair exposed, but Lizzie helped him make sure it was presentable. Speaking of Lizzie, she was wearing a dress with the typical navy blue color of the Ocean Empire, but it had an ombre shift into the magenta of Mezalea at the end of the skirt. Joel wore his typical Mezalean garb, but with a navy blue sash instead of a green one. They walked into the ballroom as quite the dazzling trio- and then Jimmy’s heart just about stopped at the sight of Scott.
He was chatting with Pixl and one of the new rulers, a man with colorful wings like a parrot’s. But Jimmy was too busy staring at Scott to really pay attention to Pix and the other ruler, because Scott was wearing a ballgown. The main body of it was long sleeved and form fitting, made of white lace with shimmers of gold worked in, and was backless to allow room for his wings. Then there was a light blue overskirt to go with it, making the dress look like a full ballgown. Gold jewelry adorned him as well- on his wrists, around his neck, and hanging from his ears.
“Close your mouth, Jimmy,” Joel murmured with a teasing lilt. Jimmy snapped his mouth shut, looking down at the ground and extremely relieved that his masquerade mask covered the blush on his cheeks.
“How about we go and mingle with the other guests, I think Jimmy needs a minute to compose himself,” Lizzie teased. Jimmy nodded, too flustered to even protest. The three of them walked over to Katherine, who was chatting with Gem, Pearl, and a gnome girl in a dress that reminded Jimmy of a mushroom, with its red poofy top and white floor length skirt. The girl jumped a bit at the sight of Jimmy and Lizzie, but quickly composed herself.
“Hello! I am Shrub of the Undergrove. You may call me Shelby if you like though,” she said, seeming a little skittish as she spoke. Lizzie smiled gently, giving a curtsy. Joel and Jimmy quickly followed her lead, bowing at Shelby.
“Ocean’s blessings. I am Queen Lizzie, of the Ocean Empire. This is my husband, King Joel of Mezalea. And this is my dear friend, the Codfather of the Cod Empire,” Lizzie said, gesturing to each of them in turn.
“You can call me Jimmy though, if you want,” he added with a smile. Shelby jumped a bit when he spoke, but nodded and gave a hasty curtsy. Joel looked at her with gentle concern.
“Is everything alright?” he asked. Shelby nodded, a bit too hastily.
“Yes! Just not uh. Not super used to this many people,” she said with a nervous laugh, eyeing Lizzie and Jimmy warily. Joel frowned a bit at the way she was looking at them, but didn’t say anything.
“Jimmy, you aren’t making an enemy of our new friend already, are you?” Fwhip’s voice asked from somewhere behind them. Jimmy whirled around to glare at Fwhip, and of course Sausage was at his side.
“I’m just saying hello, Fwhip. Surely that’s allowed,” Jimmy huffed.
“Sure, that’s how it always starts though- next thing you know he’s stealing your things,” Sausage chimed in. Shelby looked rather alarmed, and Jimmy let out a frustrated sigh.
“For the millionth time, you had said that I could-”
“Oh listen, the music’s starting! Let’s dance!” Katherine interrupted him, and the whole ballroom seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief as people found their dance partners. Jimmy fully intended to step to the side and watch as the others danced, but then he met the mischievous glint in Lizzie’s eyes.
“Joel, is it alright if I go dance with Scott? I simply must compliment his dress,” Lizzie said airily. Joel smiled, just as wickedly as the glint in his wife’s eyes.
“As long as you don’t mind if I dance with the Codfather for a bit,” Joel replied.
“Of course!” Lizzie chirped, before heading off towards Scott. Jimmy squinted at Joel suspiciously as he led him to the dance floor. It wasn’t the first time the two of them had danced together, Joel had insisted that Jimmy practice with him before his wedding day. But it had frankly been a while, and he didn’t like the look he and Lizzie had exchanged before she went to dance with Scott.
“What are you up to?” Jimmy asked as he rested his hand on the small of Joel’s back, and Joel rested his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Their other hands were clasped together, and the two of them began gently swaying.
“Oh, nothing,” Joel replied, and that was all Jimmy could get out of him as they danced. They slowly made their way across the ballroom floor, and soon they were close to where Lizzie and Scott were dancing. And gosh were they a sight, all swirling skirts and elegance. Jimmy could tell Joel was just as distracted by Lizzie as Jimmy was by Scott. Then Lizzie noticed them staring, and she and Scott twirled closer.
“Jimmy! Let’s trade partners, I’d like to dance with my husband now!” Lizzie chimed, and before Jimmy could process what exactly that meant, he was spun into Scott’s arms. They were almost as close as they had been the day they fought- and there were those butterflies again. He didn’t know what to do with his hands- there was the issue of Scott’s wings and the fact that his dress exposed a lot of the skin on his back. But there wouldn’t be a point to worrying about that, Scott would surely push him away- but then Scott chuckled and took Jimmy’s hands in his, guiding them to where they should be.
“Here,” he said softly, placing one of Jimmy’s hands on his shoulder while his fingers laced with the other, then moved his free hand to rest on Jimmy’s back and pull him impossibly closer. Jimmy swallowed nervously, glancing over at Lizzie and Joel (who nodded encouragingly) before looking back to Scott.
“You look gorgeous,” Jimmy blurted as the two of them began to sway. Jimmy internally cursed himself for saying the first thing that popped into his head- but then Scott’s face flushed and it suddenly all felt worth it.
“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself,” he teased. Jimmy laughed.
“Lizzie helped,” he admitted. Scott laughed as well, the sound all sunshine and glittering gold.
“Should’ve known,” he replied, seeming distracted for a moment. Jimmy wanted to ask what was wrong, but Scott plastered on a smile and gently spun the two of them. Jimmy couldn’t help but smile along, heart soaring.
They continued dancing until the song ended, and then Scott was just… gone. He had twirled Jimmy and when he had finally managed to stop spinning and catch his balance, laughing and about to make a teasing remark about Scott making him dizzy- he realized he had vanished into the crowd. It felt like Scott had taken a bit of Jimmy’s heart with him. Jimmy looked around for him, and met Katherine’s concerned gaze instead. She gave a comforting smile as she walked over to Jimmy.
“I saw Scott go upstairs, I think he just needed some fresh air after dancing. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some company,” she said with a wink, nudging Jimmy towards the stairs. He chuckled, thanking Katherine before heading up the stairs. She was right, there was no need to be worried! Jimmy just kinda wished Scott would have said something.
Jimmy’s breath was once again taken away when he saw Scott standing on the balcony. If Jimmy thought he was beautiful in the sunlight, he was even more stunning in the moonlight. The white of his wings practically glowed, and while the gold didn’t shimmer quite as bright as it did in the sun, it still sent Jimmy’s heart fluttering all the same. The only thing that ruined the image was how… distressed Scott looked. His hands were fiddling with the gold bracelets he wore, and his mouth was fixed in a frown. Maybe he needed some space, clearly something about the dance upset him- he probably hadn’t really wanted to dance with Jimmy, and just played along cause everyone was watching. Jimmy should definitely apologize before giving him some space.
“Scott? I promise I’ll leave you alone after this, but I just wanted to apologize,” Jimmy said, trying not to let his heartbreak show. Scott jumped in surprise, turning to look at Jimmy.
“Apologize? For what?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused.
“The dance. Joel and Lizzie schemed against my will, I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Jimmy explained, guilt welling up in his stomach. To his surprise, Scott gave a soft laugh.
“You don’t need to apologize for that. I… I liked dancing with you,” he confessed. Jimmy’s heart was sent fluttering once more, and he stepped closer to Scott with a grin.
“Oh! Good, I was just worried because you left and you looked upset when I came up here,” Jimmy said, deflating only a little bit when Scott only smiled and nodded in response before gazing out over the lands of the Overgrown. There was awkward silence for a moment or two, until Scott suddenly moved closer to Jimmy, almost as close as they had been when they were dancing. Butterflies sparked in Jimmy’s stomach at the little distance between them.
“I need to tell you something,” Scott blurted. He looked nervous, almost like he had been when Jimmy first had come up to the balcony.
“Of course, what is it?” Jimmy asked soothingly. Scott looked him in the eyes, mouth opening and closing uselessly- until he broke eye contact for a brief moment before locking eyes with him again, something desperate in his gaze. Then suddenly Scott’s hands were gently cradling his face and there were lips on his. Scott’s lips. Scott was kissing him. Jimmy gasped in surprise against his mouth before quickly sinking into the kiss and running his hands through Scott’s stupid perfect hair. Scott’s hands drifted down from his face to his waist, pulling him in closer as his wings wrapped around them both, shielding them from the outside world so it was only Scott and Jimmy. Then Scott tilted his head and the kiss went from pleasantly warm to blazing, sending sparks racing up Jimmy’s spine. It left him dizzyingly breathless, like Scott had spun him a thousand times on the dance floor, and Jimmy never wanted it to end-
And then a thundering BOOM rattled the castle, breaking them apart. Scott clung to Jimmy, arms tightening around his waist as his breath hitched in fear, and Jimmy held him back just as tightly. There was something unreadable in Scott’s expression alongside the fear, but Jimmy didn’t have time to decipher it before another BOOM shook the castle. Jimmy was about to ask what was going on, but the sound of someone landing on the roof behind him and the voice that went with it stopped him cold.
“Well what do we have here?” Fwhip crooned, and Scott practically snarled as he shifted his hold on Jimmy so that one arm was curled protectively around his waist, his wing shielding him as well, as he drew a sword from somewhere within his skirts and pointed it at Fwhip. Dimly, Jimmy remembered that there weren’t supposed to be weapons at the ball, Katherine had made a rule.
“Leave before I make you,” Scott growled, the sound of his voice sending liquid fire through Jimmy’s veins. Fwhip gave an incredulous scoff, shaking his head.
“Playing the part a little too well, are we?” he sneered, and just like that the fire in his veins went cold, and he realized what that strange look on Scott’s face had been before. Guilt. Scott’s grip on him suddenly felt suffocating, more like he was holding Jimmy hostage rather than protecting him.
“Let go of me,” Jimmy demanded, voice hollow. Scott’s grip only tightened on him, and Jimmy’s heart rate spiked in fear.
“Don’t listen to Fwhip, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Scott said shakily. Fwhip let out a cruel laugh.
“Oh come on Scott, you’re the one who helped make this possible,” he jeered, and the castle shook with another explosion. Jimmy’s stomach dropped. Scott was in league with Fwhip. Scott had plotted against him, and lulled Jimmy into a false sense of security with dazzling smiles and soft lips.
“Jimmy-” Scott started, but was cut off by the sound of people bounding up the stairs and shouting. Jimmy’s head whipped over to see Katherine, Lizzie, and Joel coming up to the balcony.
“Fwhip! How could you do this!” Katherine demanded, tears streaming down her face. Fwhip merely laughed.
“I told you the ball would be a blast, Katherine,” he sneered. Anger boiled in Jimmy’s stomach at Fwhip’s tone towards Katherine, and he squirmed against Scott’s hold.
“Jimmy,” Scott warned, voice low. Joel mistook the tone of Scott’s voice, and leveled his sword at him- somehow Jimmy missed that he was holding it, he must have grabbed it from the chests at the front of the castle.
“Release the Codfather. Now. I won’t let you destroy this castle and take an ally hostage,” Joel growled.
“Joel, stay out of this. You don’t understand what’s happening,” Scott said, voice calm and even. Joel let out a harsh laugh, tightening his grip on his sword.
“I understand plenty,” he snarled, leaping at Scott. Scott was forced to toss Jimmy to the side to block the incoming strike, and Jimmy watched them fight with some sort of dazed confusion as he fell to the ground. Everything felt cold and hollow, and Jimmy didn’t really feel connected to his body as Lizzie scrambled to his side, helping him up and murmuring words of comfort.
“C’mon Jimmy, we’ve gotta get out of here,” she said, voice soft but no less urgent as she gently squeezed Jimmy’s hand. He met Scott’s eyes briefly as he was holding off Joel, and that was decision enough for Jimmy. He squeezed Lizzie’s hand back, and ran with her.
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