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limitlessgojo · 3 years

Text

Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help.

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes.

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him.

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him).

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.”

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts.

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips.

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip."

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then."

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public.

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin.

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him.

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day.

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn."

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining.

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this."

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn.

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband.

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself.

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him.

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear.

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head.

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined.

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes.

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact.

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly.

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time.

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it.

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once.

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there.

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke.

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit.

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm.

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut.

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow.

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up.

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out.

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms.

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power.

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside.

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed.

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep.

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn.

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

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deanstead · 3 years

Text

Stalked

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Requested by anon: Could I get 13 and 19 on the prompt list, please! Kelly x reader where the reader is a bartender at Molly’s and ends up with a stalker. Maybe a sprinkle of Jay helping out, too.

Warnings: mentions of stalking, anxiety, mild cursing

A/N: Prompts were meant for drabbles but…. It became too long to be labelled as a drabble so tagging this as a one-shot but I used the prompts! Just felt there needed to be a bit of a build-up for a stalker backstory. Hope you like it! Would also love to hear what you think!

---

You had been getting the feeling that you were being followed for the past few weeks.

There were just a few moments in your day when you felt that you were being watched. It started off at Molly’s when you were pulling your bartending shift, the hairs on the back of your neck had stood but you couldn’t pinpoint it in a crowded bar.

Yet during the past few weeks, it had progressively gotten more frequent. You hadn’t told anyone about it yet because there was nothing to tell. There wasn’t a stranger you saw frequently. Molly’s was usually full of firefighters from 51 or police officers and detectives from 21, or even the medical staff from Med. But no one jumped out at you so you didn’t mention anything to anyone.

You felt it again as you walked the short distance from Molly’s to your apartment building after finishing your shift but you shook it off. Maybe you were too tired.

You jogged up the stairs, squinting when you noticed a package sitting in front of your door.

You smiled. Kelly must have left something for you. You turned, looking up and down the empty corridor. The only thing that smelt a little funky was that Kelly usually left a note or stuck around.

You flipped open the box, frowning at the contents.

What the hell was this?

You stood in front of your door, picking up the stack of photos inside the box. Photos of you – laughing at Molly’s, at the store, at the pharmacy, photos through the window of this very apartment. Photos that you were now sure weren’t from Kelly.

The box dropped to the ground with a clang, the photos slipping from your fingers and scattering onto the floor. You took a shaky step backwards.

You didn’t even realise your hands were shaking until you fumbled with the clasp on your bag to try to call Kelly.

There were just two rings before he answered. “Hello?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice before speaking.

“Y/N?” Kelly’s voice again.

“Kelly…” You failed at keeping your voice steady, your voice breaking a little as you called out his name.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Kelly had picked up on your shaky voice immediately.

“Kelly… something… someone…” Your brain was fogging up.

You could hear Kelly moving around. “Where are you?” When you didn’t respond immediately, Kelly pressed again. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Outside my apartment.” You finally found the words.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right there, okay? Stay there.” Kelly instructed before he hung up.

---

You weren’t sure how long it was you had been there. Once the line had gone dead, you had sunk to the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest, your head down. The box was lying open in front of you, the photographs scattered around. You only looked up again when you heard footsteps, followed closely by Kelly’s voice.

“Y/N!” Kelly called, making a beeline for you.

“You okay?” He demanded. You nodded your head but looped your arms around Kelly, pushing your face into his chest.

You felt Kelly reach over to hold you before you heard a third person’s voice. “Let me clear the house.”

You hadn’t even noticed that Jay was with Kelly.

“Kelly, we’re good.” Jay nodded, tossing your keys back to Kelly. You hadn’t even noticed that Kelly had taken them from you.

“Come on.” Kelly helped you up and guided you inside, Jay following close behind. Before long, Kelly was pushing a hot cup of tea into your hands as Jay pored over the box.

“No promises but I’ll try to pull security footage, maybe we can even dust for prints.” Jay said, glancing over at Kelly.

“Thanks for coming over with me.” Kelly said, getting up.

“Don’t sweat it, Kelly.” Jay smiled.

You looked up. “Thanks Jay.” You smiled.

“You hang in there, okay? I’ll do what I can.” Jay called, waving as he left.

“I can stay here tonight.” Kelly said, as the door closed behind Jay. You didn’t say anything but reached for his hand and he smiled, kissing the back of your hand.

---

It had been a month and a half since the box had shown up on your door and then nothing.

The best Jay could come up with was that it was a white guy in his thirties, wearing a hoodie and baseball cap. The cameras caught nothing and there were no prints they could match him to.

“Everything’s been okay, though?” Jay asked, as you slid him his drink.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s been quiet.”

Jay nodded. “Hey, you know if you need anything…”

You smiled, “Thanks Jay. Drink’s on me.”

He smiled, raising his glass in thanks as you wandered off to restock the supplies.

By the time you had finished tidying storage, Molly’s was almost empty, save for a few more people from 51. “Hey Y/N, you can take off early. There’s not much to do, I can handle it.” Herrmann called as you walked out.

“You sure?” You asked, scanning the room. “We’re not exactly closed yet.”

Herrmann smiled. “Yeah, go on.”

“Thanks Herrmann!” You called, going for your bag.

You dialled Kelly’s number but it went straight to voicemail. It still wasn’t late, technically Herrmann was letting you finish shift early. You sent Kelly a quick text to meet you straight at your apartment and calling out byes, slipped out the back door.

You were halfway to your apartment when your phone rang.

“Y/N, I told you I’d pick you up.” Kelly said, the moment you picked up the phone.

You sighed, “Kelly, I’m almost home. I’m just around the corner, I just…” You were cut off midsentence by someone grabbing you and you gave a short yelp before you dropped your phone and got pulled into the adjacent alley.

---

Kelly sighed as he heard you justify why you had left the bar early. He knew this was coming, he just didn’t expect it to be this soon. You had always been feisty and independent, so he knew you’d start to let your guard down soon.

“I’m just around the corner, I just…” There was a pause before you gave a short yelp.

“Y/N!” Kelly called but the line had already gone dead.

Fuck.

Kelly fumbled with his keypad as he ran down the street. “Jay, I think she’s in trouble, one street over from Molly’s. I need your help.”

Kelly pumped his legs, pushing himself faster down the street. It had always seemed like a short street when he had walked you home but now it didn’t feel so short.

---

You had the breath knocked out of you as you were thrown against the concrete wall in the alley, your head hitting the wall with a clang, stars dancing in front of your vision.

“Now, no one can tear us apart.” A voice drawled in your ear. You could feel someone hovering above you, his hot breath tickling your ear, as his hand found your neck.

You could feel the bile rise in your throat. You had no idea who this person was, or what they wanted. All you knew for sure was that he was the owner of that creepy box you had received and he was way too close to you.

You had a scream stuck in your throat and you struggled to get it out. You needed to get it out or Kelly would never be able to find you.

“Hey!”

You sank to the ground as you felt his hold on you loosen.

Kelly’s face contorted into a look of rage as he looked down the alley. Without pausing, Kelly pounced, pushing the man off of you. He saw you sink to the ground out of the corner of his eye but turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

Kelly could feel his heart pumping in his chest as he landed a punch on the man’s face. The man threw a punch, causing Kelly to stumble backwards but Kelly threw himself forward again, pushing him deeper into the alley, so as to put as much distance as he could between you and the man.

Kelly threw another punch, knocking the man off his feet. Kelly growled but this time heard footsteps.

“Kelly!” Kelly stepped backwards, avoiding a kick from the man who lay on the gorunf before Jay came running up.

“Don’t move.” Jay snarled, taking out his gun.

Jay glanced at Kelly who was now holding onto this guy on the ground firmly, before holstering his gun and bending down to take over and handcuff the man. “I got this.”

Kelly nodded and hurried back to where you were sitting on the ground.

“Y/N?” Kelly approached, noticing the way you stiffened as he reached out for you. “Babe?”

You snapped your head up as you tried to shrink further backwards. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.”

You finally saw him, Kelly standing over you, his hand stretching out towards you. “Kelly?” Your voice shook a little.

Kelly bent to your level. “Baby, breathe. Just breathe, okay?”

You took a shuddering breath; a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as Kelly pressed you into him. “That’s my girl.” He whispered.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Kelly whispered, as you heard the sirens.

“Kelly, We’ll take him in. You think she’s up for a statement?” Jay’s voice now.

Kelly hesitated but you looked up. “I can talk to Jay.” You said, although you hadn’t loosened your hold on Kelly.

Jay nodded, “Kelly can stay with you. I just need an official witness statement, okay?”

You recounted as much as you could remember to Jay, glad that it was Jay who was taking your statement. A friendly face, someone you knew you could trust.

“Thanks Jay. I…”

Jay smiled, reaching in to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly.

---

Kelly had gotten you back to your apartment, and you were now sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Kelly asked, coming down to eye level with you.

You smiled and nodded. “Now, I am.”

You reached for Kelly’s hand. Kelly took your hand in his and sank into the couch next to you, gently pulling you towards him and holding you close, planting a kiss on your temple..

“Can you stay? You make me feel safe.” You whispered.

Kelly didn’t respond immediately, instead just tightening his arms around you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes as Kelly shifted to make you more comfortable. “Kelly, I…”

“I know.” He whispered, “Me too.”

---

KELLY SEVERIDE TAGLIST

@keenmarvellover | @securityfriendly-jay | @winterberryfox | @bestillmystuckyheart

If you would like to be added to a taglist, you may request here or send me an ask!

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lyrical-panic · 3 years

Text

Some Scars aren’t Physical: PART 1

Iida x GN! Reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Past abusive relationship (gaslighting, possessiveness, yelling), slight panic attack, swearing

Summery: (Y/N) had a terrible boyfriend in middle school. He was possessive, manipulative, and just plain awful. Since breaking up with Him, (Y/N)’s had pretty bad relationship anxiety. It’s so bad, that it makes them afraid to pursue their new crush: the kind, earnest class rep, Tenya Iida.

Link to Part 2

Masterlist

. . .

It only takes one bad experience to ruin something forever.

Take dating, for instance.

You hadn’t had many friends in middle school. You had Izuku, your friend since elementary school, and the people who sat next to you in class who occasionally talked to you. That was about it, but it never mattered. You were still happy.

Then there was Him.

He had been kind. Flattering. He laughed at your jokes and told you His own. You had been happier than you had ever been when you started dating. You spent long nights on the phone with Him, trying to smother your giddy laughter so not to wake the rest of your house. Then you spent hours recounting every moment of the conversation to Izuku, who always rolled his eyes playfully, remarking “As long as you’re happy, (Y/N).”

Then He changed.

It was a gradual shift. You didn’t even realize that something wasn’t right until a month or so into the relationship. It started with Izuku, funnily enough. He didn’t like how close you were with him. You had tried to calmly explain to Him that you were just friends, and had been friends for several years. He wouldn’t have it, though. He never outright asked you to stop spending time with Izuku, but He made it very clear that He didn’t approve of your friendship.

You didn’t want Him to be angry with you. You didn’t cut Izuku out completely, you couldn’t bear to. You did start to avoid him, though.

It didn’t end with Izuku, though. Next it was the classmates you occasionally hung out with. Next it was anyone He didn’t personally know. Next it was anyone if He wasn’t there.

Then there were the arguments. You were frustrated. You told Him that he couldn’t control you like this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Him. Not when His counterarguments where oh so persuasive.

“Listen, these people don’t really care about you. They’re just going to hurt you. I just want to keep you safe. You trust me, right?”

The hurt look on His face was enough for you to assure Him that yes, of course you trusted Him. You weren’t sure how honest you were being, though.

Four months.

It took four months of loneliness, and anxiety for you to finally end it. It took four months of Izuku pleading with you to leave Him before you actually did it.

He wouldn’t go down without a fight, unfortunately. He went down in the end, albeit kicking and screaming. He had raised his voice at our before, but never like this. He had never screamed directly in your face. You’d never cried in front of Him before. You’d been good at hiding it, but the all the pent up anxiety and frustrations you were feeling spilt out when He shrieked at you like that.

He’d been suspended for two weeks. They were over all too fast.

He hardly talked to you when He got back, but you always felt His eyes. They seemed to follow you wherever you went.

Izuku stuck to you like glue. He was a nervous kid, and he never said anything directly to Him, but he was always there, offering you his silent support.

“Do you think you’ll want to date anyone else?” Izuku asked one day.

“No one from our class,” You rolled your eyes, surveying the middle school classroom.

“What about when we get to high school?”

“I don’t know,” You answered after a moment. “I’d like to be in a good relationship, but…”

Izuku frowned. “But?”

You averted your eyes, feeling His gaze burning a hole in the back of your head. “I thought He seemed good at first. Look how well that went.”

. . .

High school felt like heaven. It might’ve been grueling, and sure, villains showed up every other week, but He wasn’t there. Izuku was, though, plus you both managed to make a few other friends.

Iida was one such friend. The first thing you had noticed about him was that he was loud. You had never liked loud people, especially after what had happened with Him, but Iida was never loud to you directly. He was just loud in general.

A few weeks into your friendship with him, and you realized that he was incredibly earnest. He was dependable, and seemed to be one of the kindest, if also intense people you’d ever met.

He was also handsome.

You spent lunch periods staring at Iida’s large hands, wondering what they’d feel like in your own. You laid awake at night, hugging your pillow and pretending it was him.

One night, as you pictured him holding you, his gentle arms suddenly became tight and constrictive. Suddenly, it wasn’t Iida.

It was Him.

Your breathing became sporadic you threw your pillow onto the floor. You folded in on yourself, rubbing your arms to try to rid yourself of His lingering touch.

“I can’t,” You whimpered. “I can’t,”

You wanted to be with Iida, you really did. But He was still poisoning your mind.

. . .

“(L/N), are you doing anything this weekend?”

You hummed noncommittally at Iida, who was standing at your desk, waiting for you to pack up to go home.

“I don’t think so.” You shrugged. “What about you?”

“Well, a cafe recently opened near my home, I’m thinking of checking it out.” He said casually, eyes darting away. “Perhaps you’d like to come with me?”

“Oh!” You exclaimed, looking up at the boy. “Uh, yeah! That sounds fun. It’d be nice to spend some time with you outside of school.”

“Yes, I-I thought the same thing.” Iida readjusted his glasses, a pink dusting forming on his cheeks. “Is Saturday alright with you?”

About twenty minutes later, when you and Izuku were walking home from the train station, he asked if you wanted to do anything over the weekend.

“On Sunday, maybe.” You kicked an acorn along the sidewalk. “Iida and I are going out on Saturday.”

“Woah, really? Like on a date?”

“I- I don’t- what?” You froze. You replayed the conversation with Iida in your head. “Is it a date? Shit. I can’t go on a date.”

“Why not?” Izuku furrowed his brows in concern. “Iida’s really nice, I think you’d be happy with him. You’d have a good time.”

“Yeah, well we thought I’d be happy with Him too,”

Izuku flinched, understanding flashing in his eyes. “Okay. (Y/N), Iida is lightyears better than Him. Iida’s a super serious guy, but that makes him transparent. If he had ulterior motives, or even if he just seemed like he’d be a dick, you’d know it. Iida isn’t Him. At least go out with him this one time.”

“But I-”

“It’s one date, not marriage.” Izuku reasoned, placing a hand on your shoulder. “There are no obligations. Go out with him. If it goes well, then great! You can do it again, or, don’t. If it goes poorly, then end it there. You don’t have to tie yourself to Iida just because he’s showing interest in you.”

You raised a pointed eyebrow. “What if I’m not interested in him?”

“(Y/N).” Izuku deadpanned. “You and I both know that you are.”

You snickered a little, the sound coming out breathy and broken. “Ok. One date. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

. . .

Izuku knew you and Iida had it bad for each other. The staring longingly when the other wasn’t looking, the flustered laughing, all the goddamn blushing, there was a lot. It was torture watching you both dance around each other, but he knew it wasn’t easy for you. He had left his mark on you, even if it wasn’t a physical one.

Izuku wasn’t exactly thrilled to push you right back into dating when you obviously were uncomfortable, despite knowing that Iida could be a healing presence in your life if you let him.

So you were going on a date with him.

“It’s one date, not marriage.” He had said, trying to convince himself as well as you. “There are no obligations.”

Izuku knew Iida. He trusted him with his life, he just wasn’t sure if he trusted him with you. You, the closest thing to a sibling Izuku had ever had. You, who had stayed his friend even after you had manifested your quirk and he’d been left quirkless. You, who stayed by his side and defended him against Kacchan and his other middle school bullies.

You, who had been hurt before by someone you had liked.

Izuku groaned, flopping onto his bed. “Iida isn’t Him. Iida isn’t Him. He’s not going to hurt (Y/N). They’re going to be fine.”

It still didn’t stop him from constantly checking his phone, to see if you’d messaged him. Today was your date. He check the time again. 3:21. You should be home by now, or at least on the way. He’d told you to text him when you were home and tell him all about the date, but you might’ve forgotten. Maybe he should text your parents?

No. He was your best friend, not your father. He’d wait to see if you contacted him. If you didn’t, no big deal. He’d see you on Monday at school. Izuku very deliberately placed his phone face down on his bedside table. Deciding to go for a jog to get his mind off it, he began to change into his workout clothes.

Not two minutes later, his phone buzzed. Halfway into his gym shorts, Izuku scrambled back to the table, tripping over his own feet and hitting his head squarely on the bed frame.

“Shit!” He hissed, rubbing his forehead.

“Izuku?” His mother called. “Is everything all right in there?”

“Yeah, I just tripped. I’m okay.” He replied, feeling around for his phone with the hand not cradling his head. Much to Izuku’s disappointment, the text wasn’t from you.

Much to his surprise though, it was from Iida.

Iida: Is (L/N) afraid of me?

“Uh oh,” He murmured, fingers already flying across the keypad.

Izuku: wdym? Did something happen during your date?

Iida: Kind of? It went well, but (L/N) seemed really nervous.

Izuku: And you weren’t? Lol, it’s your first date

Iida: Well, yes of course I was nervous. (L/N) seems more nervous then would be ordinary in that situation, though.

Izuku: What exactly did they do?

Iida: They were very overly jittery. They looked apprehensive and guilty whenever we talked. At one point I put my hand on their arm and they flinched.

“Oh shit,” Izuku whispered. Iida wasn’t done, though.

Iida: The night ended well enough, I suppose. They seemed to have a good time, it just looked like they were too frightened to enjoy it to the full extent, though.

Izuku: You didn’t do anything weird, did you?

Iida: Weird how? All I did was talk to them. I offered to pay for their food, but they declined. I touched their arm, but once they flinched away I didn’t try again. We walked back to the train station together, and I offered to accompany them home, but they shot me down again.

Izuku sighed, rubbing his throbbing temples. It was a delicate situation. It wasn’t really Izuku’s place to tell Iida your business. So how was he going to tell Iida that you had relationship trauma without actually telling him?

Izuku: Ok, I don’t think you did anything wrong. (Y/N) gets nervous at the idea of dating, but I promise it’s not you. They’ve had bad experiences with dating, but they seem to really like you and want to try again.

Izuku: (Y/N)’s story isn’t mine to tell. If they feel comfortable giving you all the details, then they will. All you need to know for now is that their anxiety isn’t your fault. It also doesn’t mean that they don’t like you because I don’t think I’ve ever seen them as happy with someone as they are with you

Iida: I see. Their behavior makes a little more sense now. Thank you for telling me, Midoriya. I’d like to have a relationship with them, so on Monday I’ll talk to them and see if there’s anything I can do or stop doing to make them more comfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am when I’m with them either, in all honesty. I would hate to loose them over a misunderstanding.

Izuku chuckled, smiling warmly at his device. “What was I ever worried about?”

#mha #bnha #iida #tenya #tenya iida #iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #deku #izuku #midoriya #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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violette-hue · 3 years

Text

Secrets

Summary: Daichi, your best friend, invites you to hang with the boys. You’ve love him for the longest time, but kept it a secret. What will happen with Asahi and Sugawara know your secret and threaten to expose it?

Trigger Warning(s): love, bottling up emotions, anxiety, exploiting secrets, alcohol, forehead kissing, crying, fluff, no proof reading

Word Count: 1,094

The brisk winter hair burned as it enveloped your face, the scarf around your neck barely doing its job. You had received a text from Daichi days ago asking to meet up at a local bar with his friends--well your friends too you supposed. You just hadn’t seen them in years. Since high school, in fact. Was it wrong you were nervous?

Your hand shook as you reached for the door to the bar. In truth, you weren’t nervous about meeting the other boys, just that boy. Well, man, you supposed. He had surely grown in the years, as you had. Just as your feelings had, too. Your heart yearned for him since high school, your school girl crush blossoming into love. His friends knew, of course, and you hoped they hadn’t said anything in the years of distance. Perhaps that’s why you were so nervous.

You had seen Daichi many times throughout the years and spent time together on numerous occasions. You saw him grow into the man he is, saw him work at his career and his life. Yet, you never expressed yourself to him--not during those long hours on the phone, not during those druken nights spent together, and most certainly not when he met other women. You suffered in silence, as any best friend would. You told yourself it was good enough if he was just in your life, no matter what role he played. But as time went by, your opinion on the matter faded away and now you weren’t so sure if you could love him so much and only remain his best friend.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. The warmth from inside immediately embraced you, your lips tugging into a small smile at the comfort. After placing your coat and good-for-nothing scarf on the rack, you sought to find your party. There they were, in the far corner of the bar sitting cozily at a kotatsu. Asahi threw his head back and laughed, Sugawara following suit. Daichi smiled fondly at his friends and trailed his finger along the rim of his beer glass. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, and suddenly you weren’t too sure you could go through with this.

“Hey! Over here!” Sugawara called, waiving his hand.

Damnit. It was too late to turn back. You walked towards them and waived back slowly. “Hey guys,” you said softly.

You looked for a seat, but of course the only empty spot was right next to Daichi. You gave a peek to the other boys, your heart dropping when you saw their subtle smirks. They did this on purpose. Of course they did. You begrudgingly sat down next to Daichi, your knees brushing against each other.

“How have you guys been?” you asked, voice wavering. You cleared your throat and cursed yourself for being so nervous.

“Are you asking us, or Daichi?” Sugawara coyly asked, emphasizing Daichi’s name.

You blushed softly. “All of you guys. Though I guess more you two since Daichi and I saw each other not too long ago...”

“Oh ho! On a date? Finally you guys have been driving me crazy--” Sugawara started.

“No, not a date,” you interrupted firmly, not daring to look at Daichi.

“What?” Daichi asked. He furrowed his brows and looked at his friends.

Was he blushing? No, he couldn’t be. He was drinking, it must be the alcohol. And who knew how many drinks he’s indulged in since before your arrival. You worked your bottom lip between your teeth, worry making your heart hammer in your chest.

“Oh...I just thought you asked for this ‘hang out’ to tell us you guys were dating,” Asahi said cautiously.

Sugawara nodded, adopting the same argument. This had to have been some lame, poorly thought out plan and final attempt of them trying to get you and Daichi together. There was no other reason for the poorly structured comment. They knew this was a normal meeting, Daichi was their best friend, and if he was dating someone new he wouldn’t have told them over a dinner. That’s something he would do with his parents.

“Why would you think that?” Daichi questioned, arching his brows. He glanced at you quickly, the blush on his cheeks deepening.

You mustered all the malice and warning you could into your stare as you glanced between Asahi and Sugawara. You prayed they heard your inner voice threatening them.

“Because you guys have been in love with each other since high school?” Sugawara said, his statement more of an obvious question everyone should have known.

Everyone was silent, the cat now out of the bag. Your coveted secret you had tried to keep buried now exposed. Tears stung your eyes and threatened to pour. The embarrassment weighed heavily on your chest, and before a tear could slip out, you stood and quickly made way to the exit. You ignored the guys’ calls for you and grabbed your coat and stupid scarf. You hadn’t even bothered to put them on before running out the door. Tears now trailed down your cheeks. You had lost your best friend--they had made you lose your best friend.

You had made it halfway down the block when someone grabbed your wrist and forced you to turn towards them. Thankfully, you had seen Daichi’s face before throwing your fist, and instead stared up at him blankly, stunned.

“Why did you leave?” Daichi asked, examining your face. He brushed your tears away with his thumbs, his lips turning into a frown.

You shivered both at his touch and the ungodly temperature outside. “They had no right-- I -I didn’t want you to--” you took a deep breath and shut your mouth. What was the good in explaining yourself? They had done that for you. You shook your head and turned to leave.

“Didn’t you hear them...?” he trailed off. “We’ve been in love since high school.”

We. The word echoed in your head. We, as in both. As in he also shared the same feelings. You looked to Daichi with wide eyes.

“You...?”

He nodded his head, smiling softly. He grabbed your coat and helped you slide it over your arms. He lovingly buttoned up the garment and reached for your good-for-nothing scarf. He wrapped the material around your neck and lightly used it to pull you close to him.

“Yes,” he breathed. He kissed your forehead, his hands moving from your scarf to your waist.

Maybe this scarf wasn’t so stupid after all.

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Text

Journey through time - Part 5

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warnings: fluff and only fluff.

A/N1: Last part to this mini photo series. Thanks to @agniavateira who has provided me with so much inspiration. Also thank you to everyone who read and liked and commented. You guys make me so happy. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

A/N2: I'll be taking a small hiatus from posting fics for now. But I'll be back soon. ❤️

As much as Sy adored his daughter, secretly he had always wanted a son. Two years after Adeline was born, when he was back from his oversees tour for three weeks, Sy took it upon himself to get you round and plump with his kids again. He was overjoyed when you told him over a call that you were pregnant. Although it saddened you both that this time, Sy wasn't going to be around when you gave birth to your child. When you told him he was going to be a father to twin boys, Sy had hollered with glee, making a couple of his men come knocking at his door to see if he way okay. That was a very awkward call, where you were waving at his men while they congratulated you. You sent him a copy of your sonogram, along with a picture of you with Adeline in a care package. "Mini me's," He would say while looking at the picture, "And my princess with my queen." Your heart would flutter like the very first time he had kissed you; upsetting you at the distance and yet also filling you with love. Sy asked his parents to come live with you, help you with Adeline, as you got big and started experiencing difficulty in moving around. When you went into labour, his mother tried to get him on call, just like he had requested. But they were unable to connect to his phone, wondering if he was safe and sound or just away doing things that were expected of him to do as a captain. Your emotions were unbounded when you gave birth to your sons, worrying about Sy and going through the long process without him. The next day, Sy saw his sons for the first time over the video call, happy tears springing in his eyes as you cradled the two boys in your arms. "They have your eyes, Sy. Have you thought of names yet?" You had asked, having decided long time ago that since you had named your daughter, Sy would name his sons. "James and Noah." He had sniffed out, smiling at you lovingly.

Captain Syverson retired as Major Syverson after serving 20 years of active duty. Sy joined as a coach for Little League Baseball team, becoming a favorite amongst his players and their moms. Every morning you would kiss Sy goodbye as he walked out the front door, holding little Adeline's tiny hand in his to drive her to her school on his way to work. Your days were filled with less worrying about Sy's safety and more on providing a loving family for your kids. It helped that at the end of the day, your dining table was occupied with your children and your loving husband, sharing their day's events. Weekends were spent in parks with the whole Syverson clan out for picnics, you watching your husband running around with James and Noah, Adeline who was a spitting image of her father, perched on his strong shoulders. Somedays you couldn't believe your life turned out the way it did, mostly when you would walk inside the living room to find Sy sprawled on the sofa with Adeline curled on his side, James and Noah snoozing on his chest. You would wake him up, carefully peeling your daughter away from her father and take her to bed, while Sy got both boys in his arms with little to no effort and took them to their own room. At the end of the day, when parenthood and responsibilities left you both weary, you and Sy found solace in each other's arms while drifting off to a peaceful slumber.

It was the most devastating day in Sy's life when his teenage daughter told him she wanted to pursue modelling. Adeline was stubborn and opinionated, graced with Sy's beautiful features. He had stared at his daughter with wide eyes, cup of coffee stopping midway to his mouth. "You want me to be okay with grown men gawking at you?" He had gruffly replied, anger evident with his eyebrows knitting together and his lips forming a frown. You had learned over the years to not interfere with Sy's ways of parenting. James and Noah had awkwardly slid off their chairs, both of them avoiding what was to come next. The discussion had ended with father and daughter, arguing with each other, eventually Sy sending a crying Adeline away to her room. Neither of them had spoken to each other the rest of the day, Adeline refusing to eat dinner and Sy drinking too many glasses of whiskey. "I cannot believe she thinks modelling is a career choice." He had scowled later in the night, you both staring at the ceiling while lying in bed. "Didn't you once tell me you had hated your father for sending you off to military school? Do you want your daughter to hate you?" Sy had sighed, turning on his side to face you. "That's different. Adeline's our little girl, it's my duty to protect her." Understanding completely what Sy was feeling as a parent, you had too turned on your side and placed your hand on his scruffy cheek. "You taught her to be strong, independent. She will always be our little girl. Don't you trust her to take decisions for her life? And even if she fails to do what she desires, don't you want to be there for her when she would need her dad?"

The next day you had watched from your kitchen window as Sy and Adeline talked while sitting on the swings in the backyard, ending with long hugs and lots of tears.

While Adeline roamed around the country for fashion shows, Sy groomed his sons to join the army someday. It was not an acceptable behavior, but both of you had your favorites when it came to the twins. Noah, the stronger of the two was decidedly his father's favorite, adding to his delight when by the end of high school, he wanted to go to a military academy. James, the apple of your eye, on the other hand, wanted to become a doctor, much to Sy's dismay. But lessons were learned from the time with Adeline and for that reason only, Sy did not oppose. Noah was sent off to Virginia to a military academy, going on to join the air force as it was affiliated with his school; while James buried himself in studies, moving to Connecticut to attend medical school. Weekends that were spent with picnics in the park, now consisted of video conference calls with your three kids spread out over the country. "It's just going to be you and me in the end." Sy would say, shutting the computer off and looking at you pensively. Wounding your arms around the love of your life, you would rest your head on his shoulder and agree, "Till death do us part."

On your 30th wedding anniversary, Sy gave you an unexpected surprise. He had been missing from the house since morning, only to send a vague text with "Pack your bags and come out in ten minutes." When you walked outside on the front porch, you were left stunned to find Sy dressed in riding gear on a super bike. "I think we need to relive our days from the time we were dating. Come on, I've planned a road trip for us." And with that, Sy had driven all the way to San Antonio for the weekend. With a hotel room on the river, Sy pampered you with all his love and the best Tex-Mex food he could find for you. You spent the day shopping and exploring, while in the night he made love to you with unbridled passion. "My better half," he had called you, kissing your hands while cradling you to his chest. When you both came back home from your trip, you had another surprise waiting for you: Your three children all under the same roof again, holding up a sign board with "Happy anniversary, mom and dad."

Noah had successfully climbed the ranks in the airforce to become Lieutenant at an age younger than when Sy was one. But it was when James, inspired by his twin, decided to join the armed forces as a field doctor, you saw Sy's chest puff in pride. "Syverson men always join the military." He had told his friends over dinner one night, soaking up the praises for his children. Adeline joined a major modelling agency that speared her career forward. She roamed around the globe, sending her old folks trinkets from the new city she was in, and one day added a picture of her and her boyfriend in the mail. Sy turned into a protective father quickly, inviting her and her man to have dinner. "I like him." Your old man had chuckled, when he had scared Adeline's boyfriend, making him blabber incoherently with nervousness. You could only watch in a haze as one day Adeline's boyfriend showed up to your house unannounced, to ask Sy for his daughter's hand in marriage. "Listen boy, Adeline is precious and if you hurt her, you know there wouldn't be anything worse than us. You don't want to be on the bad side of the Syverson men, is that clear?" You had heard Sy warn, a shiver running down your spine listening to his commanding tone, even if the threat wasn't meant for you. A few weeks later, when Adeline was in Paris, she had called home only minutes after the proposal, screaming on the phone that she said "yes." The rest of the night, Sy had you looking at Adeline's baby pictures from old photo albums. "This little bundle would be getting married soon. Can you believe that?" He had laughed, wiping the tear at the corner of his eye and throwing his arm around your shoulders when you couldn't hold onto your own tears.

The day after Adeline, Sy's little girl, was married, he threw a brunch for the newly weds and their families. James and Noah, back from their deployment in time for their sister's wedding, had introduced their own girlfriends to both of you before the ceremony. You knew Sy would never admit it, macho behavior of his never fading, but you could see his eyes glisten watching his family grow. He had tried to keep a straight face throughout the ceremony too, but he had let go of his tears when Adeline had laid her head on his shoulder during their father-daughter dance. Halfway through brunch, Sy pulled you away from the crowd and took you towards the orchard outside the country club. He held your hand while taking you to stand under the shade of a massive tree. "It's like I'm living in a dream." You admitted, looking out at the sprawling orchard, thinking about how you were a mother-in-law to someone. Sy pulled you close to him by your waist, encircling his arms around you. Gray hair on his temples and his face beginning to be marked with wrinkles and yet for you, Sy looked like he had never aged. "I know I don't tell this to you very often, but darlin' running into you, falling in love with you, building a life with you, is the best thing that could have happened to me." He kissed the top of your head, taking your face in his hands before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you and thank you for everything, Sy." You whispered as the birds chirped on the branches above, a whistling breeze blew by carrying the sweet fragrance of fruits in the orchard and you stared at the brilliant blue orbs of the man who had owned your heart and soul since many years ago.

The End.

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

[Chapter V: Han Jisung, you irresistible young man!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! language, mentions of homicide (no one actually dies!), oral sex (m. rec) (yes again), exhibitionism

Chapter Word Count: 4.2k words

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn @dwaebinnie @gothmingguk @minniehohos

Unable to tag: @kayannainsworth19

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“You’re evil,” Jisung pouted, pulling down on his oversized shirt to cover his still semi-hard on as the two of you walked down the hall. You snickered, enjoying the way he walked almost painfully.

“Sorry,” you grinned. “But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

“For you!” he cried. He leaned closer to your ear and hissed quietly, “You’re not the one who has a boner!” You quickened your pace, turning your head to throw a wink and a kiss. Jisung grumbled, awkwardly waddling faster to catch up to you. “Minx. You evil she-devil of a minx!”

“Hey, is it my fault you get horny easily?”

“Yes! It’s you, for fucks sake! Have you seen yourself?” he huffed. “You’re on my mind 24/7, do you even know how much you affect me?”

Your heart raced. You rolled your eyes and laughed him off, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your flustered expression. Scoffing playfully, you said, “Now that sounds like a you problem, doesn’t it?”

“Y/n~! Stop!” he whined.

You briefly glanced at his reddened face and sighed. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” You were about to enter the canteen until Jisung grabbed your wrist.

“I know how you can make it up,” he said with a somewhat timid look. He took a deep breath before stating more boldly. “Go on a date with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Wh-what?”

“Let’s go on a date. After school. Tonight.” Jisung stared at you with a newfound determination meanwhile your face grew hotter and hotter by the second. You stared at his reddened face, contemplating, before sighing.

“What time?”

“Oh, what? Seriously?” he gaped. “Holy shit. YES!” He threw his fists up in the air, hollering. “Oh my God, fuck yeah!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he rejoiced, despite the slight embarrassment you felt from the scene he was causing. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you camly shushed him with a smile. “Sorry, I was just—wow. I really landed a date with the hottest person I know,” he chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the top of his fluffy blond hair.

You giggled, moving his hand away from his head to hold it instead. “Better show up all dolled up for me, pretty boy.”

“Pff, I always look good, Y/n. What’re you talking about?” Jisung smirked, obnoxiously holding his head up high. You rolled your eyes at his playful arrogance.

“Watch it. I can change my mind anytime.”

“I know you won’t.” He brought your entwined hands up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. The rate of your heart beat increased, body tingling in adoration. Jisung smiled, letting go of your hand. “Gotta go now, I need to work on some stuff with Chan and Changbin today, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yup, see you soon!” You waved goodbye as Jisung walked away. He was only 5 steps in when he turned around and started walking backwards to speak.

“Tonight’s gonna be a surprise! Just be ready by 6, okay?” he called out.

“Okay!” You watched his retreating figure until he was halfway out of the hall. You walked happily into the canteen, thinking about your date with Jisung.

‘5:56pm’

It’s been 5 minutes since you’ve been mindlessly brushing the ends of your hair. Placing the brush back down onto your coffee table, you stood up to check your outfit on the reflection of the blackened TV screen for the umteenth time, bending down to sweep off any dust from your flowy pants. Now, you weren’t typically the type to obsess over your appearance, but tonight is certainly an exception, right? Grabbing the lip balm in your bag, you slathered on a thin layer of the sweet scented stick, smacking your lips together with a ‘pop’, and placed back inside. A notification went off from your phone. Recognizing the unique ringtone immediately, you hastily bent down to grab it.

1 new message(s) from Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: im outside!

Me: Coming out now!

You rushed to the front door, grabbing your keys and switching off the lights in the living room in the process. You double checked everything in your apartment one last time before leaving.

“Hey.”

You jolted in surprise seeing Jisung leaning on the wall right in front of your door. “What the fuck, Jisung, you scared me!”

“Sorry,” he laughed, standing up straight. “I saw Hyunjin earlier and told him about our date. He looked pretty excited.”

“Yeah?” you said as you turned around to lock your door. “Is that why you were standing in front of my door like a creep?”

You giggled at Jisung’s incredulous expression. “I wouldn’t say ‘like a creep’ but yeah, he’s the reason why I found your apartment.”

“Still sounds like a creeper thing to do,” you teased. “I never told you exactly where I lived, that’s lowkey freaky.”

“Oh, uh...Sorry?”

You walked up to him, smiling at his embarrassed face. “It's okay. You’re cute so I’ll allow it.” Grabbing his hand, you led him to the elevator. “Let’s go?”

Jisung instantly smiled, walking fast so he can be the one leading you instead. “Mhm!”

Instead of driving or taking a taxi, the two of you walked. Not that you mind, at least the night was cool enough for you to not sweat. “So? Where are you taking me first?”

“Hey, didn’t I tell you tonight is a surprise?” Jisung grinned. “No questions, no doubting. Just trust me tonight.”

“Well, for all I know, you might be a murderer luring me out for my last night.”

“Please. If I was a murderer, I would’ve killed Hyunjin and Felix for stealing my cheesecake earlier.”

You snorted. “Wait, you like cheesecake?”

“Yup! And chocolate cake! God, I love those.” He looked at you excitedly. “I think it was my mom who got me into cheesecake? She isn’t the type to like sweets that much but cheesecake is the only dessert she genuinely loves.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I remember my brother and I used to go to the store a lot to buy it for her.”

“Cute,” you giggled. You walked a few more blocks before Jisung stopped you.

“Aaand...We’re here!” You looked past him to see a small Italian restaurant. The inside looked homey, not too extravagant, with only a handful of customers inside. It had a minimalistic vibe that you very much enjoyed.

You couldn't help but chuckle. “Cheesy” you joked. “Were you hoping we would ‘Lady and the Tramp’ this?”

“Oh my God,” he gasped exaggeratedly, “that would've been so cool! But no, I heard from Minho one time that you like pasta, so I did some research and found this comfy, and more importantly, affordable place!”

“Aww,” you cooed. “You did research for me?”

“Psh, of course I did! I wanted to impress you,” he said cockily. “So, are you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh yeah, very much impressed.” You reached over to pat his leather jacket. “Especially with this sexy jacket you’re wearing.” Jisung turned bashful, fumbling with the zipper on his sleeve.

“What? Too much?” he chuckled stiffly. “Changbin actually helped me, believe it or not. He told me you’d find me irresistible if I dressed up like this.”

You took a step back to admire his outfit. From his blond hair nicely styled, to the black ripped jeans he wore that showed off his slender legs, to the runstar hike Converse he wore often. Oh yeah, this man is hot shit, you thought, biting your lip. You looked back up to seeing him fidgeting with his black mock-turtleneck with a flushed face. You giggled, gingerly placing a warm hand on his face so he could face you. “You look good, Sung,” you smiled softly, as opposed to the not-so-innocent thoughts running through your mind. “Changbin’s right, by the way. You do look irresistible.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. “But to be honest, I find you irresistible no matter what,” you winked flirtatiously, causing him to blush even more and smile giddily. You walked inside the restaurant, instantly catching the faint scent of cinnamon. Ooh Sweet… You stood near the door, waiting for a host to seat you. After 3 minutes, someone finally came by.

“Hello! I apologize for the wait, we’re just slightly short staffed tonight.”

“Felix?” you and Jisung said. Felix’s eyes widened, just realizing it was you two.

“Y/n? Jisung?” he gasped. “Hey! I didn’t know you guys were going out already.”

“We’re, well. Not official yet,” you said. “We’re still in the ‘talking’ stage, right?”

Jisung nodded, humming in agreement. “But this is still a date though.”

“Lit,” Felix cheered, fistbumping Jisung. “I’ll show you to your table now.” Your host led the both of you to the corner of the restaurant. As you sat on the chair, Felix handed you some menus.

“So my bros, I’m Felix, everybody’s favorite little freckled Aussie, and I’ll be your server for tonight.” He bowed like he would during a curtain call of a play.

“Your theatre side is coming out, Felix. Is it intermission now?” Jisung joked. You snorted while Felix rolled his eyes.

“Just give me your drinks for tonight.”

Without looking from the menu, you answered, “Water.”

“Just get me any soda you have, man. Thanks!”

“Aight. I’ll be back in 2 minutes to get your orders.” Felix walked back to the host stand to seat another set of customers. You sat in silence, skimming through your options on the menu.

“Didn’t know Felix worked here,” Jisung announced.

You shrugged. “Me neither. I guess that’s why he’s been so busy.” Another wave of silence hit the both of you. You calmly looked at the food presented on the pamphlet. However, Jisung couldn’t take the quietness.

“Remember that photography assignment you’ve been working on?” he paused, waiting for your acknowledgment. You hummed, making eye contact with him. “How is it?”

You grunted, stretching your back. “Honestly. It’s a lot harder than I thought,” you sighed. “I’ve taken countless photos already but none of them seem to resonate within me. I feel so...”

“Trapped? Blocked?”

You stared at him, the mood now oddly serious. “Yeah...Nothing seems to feel right. It’s like I’m missing something.”

“Man, I feel you,” Jisung sighed. “Lately I’ve been feeling that too. You know how many songs I’ve trashed cause they didn’t sound the way I wanted it to?”

“The life of an artist, am I right?” you joked tiredly. He nodded, patting your hand empathetically. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Felix walking back to your table. “Oh shit, Felix is coming back. Hurry up and decide what to get!”

Pain. That was all the two of you could feel.

Your head was on the table, clutching your full stomach. You looked up to see Jisung blankly staring up at the ceiling. Is he still breathing?

All of a sudden, he looked down at you, a smile beginning to form from the corners of his mouth. “You too?”

You groaned, the pain in your stomach coming back. “Why did we order so much goddamn food?”

“Go big or go home,” he weakly cried out, raising his fists up. You laughed in amusement, regretting it immediately after when your stomach started to ache again.

“Holy crap, we’re gonna die in here.”

“‘Least we’re dying happy?”

“Is—shit...A-are guys okay?” Felix asked, worriedly. The sight of your empty eyes greatly concerned him.

“Just had too much food. We’re good,” Jisung answered, giving him a thumbs up.

“Barely,” you muttered as you slowly lifted your head up.

“I wanted to ask if you guys wanted dessert but nevermind…” he eyed you both. You and Jisung made eye contact together before looking back at your friend.

“What’s the special?” you both asked simultaneously.

“Nuh uh. I’m not about to be responsible for your deaths. Go home!”

You pouted. “Come on, Felix. Don’t you love us?”

“Yeah, bro! We can take it, let’s go!”

“If I go to jail for potential homicide, I swear to God,” he sighed. “Fine. The special for tonight is a chocolate cheesecake sprinkled with shreds of Belgian chocolate.”

Both your eyes lit up. You looked back at each other as if you were speaking telepathically. Chocolate cheesecake?

“I’ll get you both only one slice!” Felix scolded. “If you guys need to puke, the restroom is down the hall behind you to your left.” Your freckled friend walked away, into the kitchen, as he glanced back at your drained forms.

“Gosh, now we’re really gonna die in here,” you whispered.

Jisung snorted as he hung his head back over the chair, “At least I’m dying with you.” You stared at his limp figure for a while before feeling the urge to take a picture. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you dug for your phone, finding it, then pulled it out. You swiped to the camera screen and took some candid photos of Jisung. “Hey, hey! Do it again!”

You looked up to see him pouting. “I know I’m handsome but if you wanted to take some pictures, you gotta tell me!” he said, sitting up and fixing his hair. You rolled your eyes, scoffing in amusement.

“Fine. Smile!”

Jisung smiled, winking as he threw up a peace sign. You took two pictures before looking up. “Okay, do something else now.” Now he pointed his index finger and thumb out, placing it under his chin. He winked again, now smiling with his teeth. Then, switching to another pose; he puffed his cheeks, hands cupping his face with his lips pursed. “One more.”

He switched from a cute pose to morphing his face into an ugly one. You laughed, “Gross!” The two of you took a couple more fun pictures together.

“Wow, I’m so handsome. Look at that,” he said. You were about to reply when you saw Felix walking back up to your table.

“Okay, bad news guys. I for real didn’t plan this, but we ran out of dessert.”

“Aww, seriously?” Jisung pouted, looking up at Felix.

He hissed, rubbing Jisung’s back. “Yeah, sorry guys. I guess chocolate cheesecake is in high demand here.”

You watched Jisung frown deepen more, slightly feeling bad. “We can go out to buy some, if you want, Sung,” you offered, holding his hand. He turned his hand so that he was able to hold it properly.

Sighing, he said whilst chuckling to lighten up his mood, “Nah. This is probably a sign for us to stop eating.” He let go of your hand, much to your dismay, and faced Felix. “It’s alright, dude. Maybe next time!”

“I feel bad,” Felix muttered. “I’ll make it up to you guys next time, promise!”

“It’s okay, Lix, it’s not your fault,” you said. “We’ll just get the check now then.”

Felix reached into his apron. “Yeah, here it is,” he said, handing you the black bill holder before walking away. “Sorry, again!”

As You were reaching for your bag to grab your wallet, Jisung stopped you. “I’m paying,” he announced. You gave him a stank look before swatting his hand away.

“I can pay too, you know?”

He refuted. “No, I’m a gentleman. That means me paying for our meal is the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Equal rights.”

“My treat.”

The both of you tightly gripped onto the bill, death staring at one another. Neither were going to back down anytime soon. You stared hard at his face as he did the same.

“Okay, fine. Let’s compromise. We split the bill. Deal?”

Jisung hummed in thought. He was about to disagree until you pitched in. “I’ll let you pay a little extra?”

“Deal.”

You placed your split payment inside the bill holder and handed it to Felix. “Thanks guys, come back again soon!”

“Later, dude!”

“Bye, Lix!”

You walked out the restaurant, the bell on the door ringing as you left. You were about to take the path to your house until Jisung stopped you. “Park,” he whispered. “Let’s go to the park.”

You blinked, slightly off guard. “Okay…”

The walk to the park wasn’t too far, literally right across from the restaurant. It was a peaceful night, the cool breeze brushed past your bodies as you walked. Silence filled the air between the both of you; nothing but the wind and the sound of dirt crunching under your shoes was heard. The mood was...romantic. There was no one but the two of you in the area.

Your bodies brushed past one another every once in a while—more specifically, your hands. You wanted to say something when Jisung beat you to it. He shyly slid his hand into yours, watching you from the corner of his eyes, and smiled when you entwined your fingers together.

“Tonight was fun,” you said softly. You leaned closer to his body to rest your head on his shoulder. Jisung tightened his grip on your hand.

“Me too,” he whispered. “I just wish I can spend more time with you.”

“You see me everyday though?”

“Yeah, but like, I mean just you and me, alone; no one else. I—” he inhaled sharply. “I’m greedy, aren’t I?”

You looked at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be with you all the fucking time, Y/n. It hurts when I’m without you. I feel alive when we’re together. It’s like, I feel like my world would stop if I don’t see you.” You were stunned. You could only listen quietly to his rant.

“God, I sound so possessive, that’s not what I was trying to aim for,” he panicked. “I don’t care if you’re with the guys, or anyone else, I know you're not the type to pull shit like that; I trust you. I just—fuck, why is this so hard?”

He stopped walking all of a sudden and pulled you away from the path, leading you 7 feet into the trees. In any normal circumstance, you would’ve been terrified. However, this was Jisung—and you knew it, somewhere deep down, that he would never do anything to hurt you. He let go of your hand and faced you. “Jisung?”

His heart pounded erratically, he didn’t know if he was on the verge of getting a heart attack. He felt overwhelmed. Having you standing right in front of him felt like a dream. He took a deep inhale in hopes of calming himself down. “I meant what I said this morning.”

“Wh-wha…?”

“You’re in my mind 24/7, Y/n. Everyday, I always think about you to the point I’m starting to think I’m going insane. Every text, every call, every time we talk, my heart feels like it might pop out. I can’t focus and I don’t know what to do about it!” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Every song I’ve written was about you. Every time I look at my phone, I feel so disappointed when I don’t see a text from you.”

Jisung steps closer to you, nearly pinning you to the tree behind you. “You’re my muse, Y/n. I-I don’t really know exactly what my heart wants but all I know is that, you’re the person I want to spend my entire life with. I think…” he paused to take another deep breath. You could feel your own heart stopping, blood rushing up to your face. “I love you, Y/n!” Jisung declared loudly.

You didn’t know if the loud sound of a heart thumping was yours or his. You were stunned, happy, and scared; millions of emotions were racing within you. Not finding the proper words for yourself, you grabbed his face and kissed him. Jisung whimpered in shock, not really expecting that reaction from you. However, he quickly pulled himself together and kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You stayed like that until the burning in your chest overpowered the burn of your hearts. You both gasped heavily, taking back in the air you lost.

“You know,” your warm breath tickled his lips. “I never did take it up for the boner I gave you this morning.”

Jisung blushed, remember the embarrassment from earlier. “Yes you did? Our date is—”

“Then this is your gift.” You slowly kneeled in front of him, caressing his thighs as you went down. Jisung watched in shock.

“I—whoa. H-Here? I-in public? Y/n, that’s—”

“Do you not want this?” you looked up, wanting his confirmation. Jisung’s breath hitched, he never would’ve thought he’d be able to see you like this just yet. He bit his lip and nodded. You smiled, kissing his hip, before undoing his pants. You slowly pulled his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his cock springing up and slapping his stomach. You found yourself drooling, finally seeing his cock in person.

Jisung groaned, the cool air hitting his dick. “Fuck…” You licked your lips then took him whole, catching him off guard. He moaned, his hand now gripping onto your hair. “Holy shit, Y/n!”

You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, as you pumped whatever your mouth couldn’t take in. The man above you let out heavy breaths, trying his best not to moan so loud. That was, in fact, proven to be difficult for your mouth was just heavenly. He rested his forehead onto the tree, looking down at you. Regret filled Jisung’s chest, greeted with the erotic sight of your cheeks puffed out, his cock sliding in and out of your pretty mouth. He moaned loudly into his arm. You moved your other hand to fondle his balls, causing Jisung to buck his hip into your mouth.

“Fuck baby,” he moaned. “So good—ah! F-Feels so good, shit!” He threw his head back, covering his mouth to mask his noises. His ragged breathing sounded absolutely delicious. You took his dick halfway out of your mouth, stopping right as you felt only his tip. You sucked harshly on it, tongue swirling around it until you decided to play with his slit.

Jisung roughly pulled on your hair, moaning so loud that it almost echoed through the trees. “Y-y/n…” he whimpered. You looked up to see tears brimming his eyes. You giggled, laughing even more when the vibrations from your vocal cords hit him all in the right places.

“Feels good, baby boy?” you briefly asked, immediately going back to his cock after. He nodded, pushing his hips closer to your face, almost making you choke.

“Y-yes, m-mommy.” A wave of arousal hit your core. You could feel your juices seeping right through your panties. The nickname had you moaning, much to Jisung’s pleasure as well. “Fuck! Mommy, more!”

You continued sucking and playing with the slit on his head as you pumped his shaft with one hand and groped his ball with the other. The higher Jisung’s voice raised, you knew the closer he was.

“Close, baby boy?” you giggled. He nodded, hips no fucking into your hand.

“Yes! Oh my God, I’m so fucking close, mommy!” he stuttered. “Please! Let me cum in your mouth!”

“Such a good boy, of course I’ll let you.” You attached your mouth back into his dick, moving your head once again to bring him closer to his high.

“Holy—FUCK!” Jisung moaned, his hand back onto his mouth to control his voice. His body shook as he released his creamy essence into your mouth. Your tongue swiped across his cock to lap up the rest of his juices. His and your unstable breathing was the only thing that could be heard now. Out of courtesy, you tucked him in back into his pants and stood up.

“Wh-What about you?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head as you patted his head.

“Nevermind about me. You’ve made me happy enough,” you grinned. “When you’re okay again, we can go back home.”

“So...Is this the part where I’m supposed to kill you?” Jisung laughed breathlessly.

The dim lights of the city were nowhere near as bright as your faces. The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, as slowly as you could, in hopes of the night never ending. But alas, the both of you had a morning class the next day. Jisung walked you all the way to your apartment door, telling you it was only for ‘safety measures’. What a liar.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You said as you unlocked your front door. Jisung grinned, pecking the hand he held.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow? Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you playfully rolled your eyes. Letting go of his hand, you finally opened your door and stepped inside.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You turned around to face him. “Yeah?”

Jisung stood there with a smile wider than before. “I love you.”

You giggled cutely. “Me too,” you said as you walked back to him to kiss his lips. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

“Goodnight...mommy.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes, “Hurry and go home already!” He turned around and started walking to the elevator, calling out one final ‘I love you!’ before he walked inside. It was painfully obvious that he was trying to act cool for you, but the bounce in his walk made him look like he was skipping gleefully. You laughed, walking back inside your apartment.

Inside the elevator, Jisung pulled out his phone to text someone.

Me: hey, minho?

when i finally get married to y/n...

please be our best man! :D

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#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz smut #skz fanfic #han jisung smut #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #Late Night Indulges

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courageous-she · 3 years

Text

Extracurricular- Charlie Gillespie

Teacher!Reader x MusicTeacher!Charlie

Word Count: 2707

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Just wanted to say thank you for all the love on “Needing You”! I wrote this up, a little self-indulgently, but hope that some of you will find some enjoyment from it!

It had always been your dream to be an elementary school teacher. For as long as you could remember, you would play school with your American Girl Dolls or stuffed animals as your students. When the time came for college, you’d picked a program that would allow you to get your Master’s quickly. After student teaching and some substituting, you finally had your own fourth grade classroom.

You hadn’t been at your school long, seeing as it was only October, but you’d been there long enough to meet some of the other teachers. You got along well with your team teachers, and even made a few teacher friends you could hang out outside of school with.

It was a Wednesday and for some reason your students had more energy than normal, and it was taking a toll on you. Luckily, they had Music in a few minutes, so you decided to end the lesson early and have them start getting ready for the special. They were quiet in the hallway, giving you a quick break before dropping them off at the music room.

“Hey, fourth grade!” the music teacher, Mr. G said with enthusiasm as your class approached. You students began to file into the classroom, high-fiving or fist bumping Mr. G as they passed. “Hey Ms. Y/L/N.” Mr. G said more softly to you.

“Hi Mr. G. They’re a little more energetic than normal today.” You said, providing a well needed update on the class. Mr. G smiled, chuckling lightly at the statement.

“Nothing I can’t handle I’m sure.” There was a short pause before he continued, “Got any plans this weekend?” he asked you. This weekend was Halloween and you wanted nothing more than to spend it on your couch with a bottle of wine.

“I was just going to drink some wine and watch a movie.” You replied honestly, “Why? Have something in mind?” It wasn’t unusual for Mr. G, or you could probably call him Charlie, to ask you about your plans. A little harmless flirting was normal between the two of you seeing as you were the only two 20 something teachers in the school.

“I had about the same idea in mind. Would you maybe want to drink wine and watch a movie together?” He asked, a smirk playing on his face. As you were about to respond, one of your students came over and grabbed Charlie by the hand, tugging him into the classroom. You smiled and let him know that you would text him before letting him go to teach the class.

You: 7:00 my place?

You sent the text to Charlie, having had his number from staff meetings. The two of you liked to text during the meetings instead of actually paying attention. You didn’t expect a response right away anyway considering he was teaching your students. You took the 40 minutes your kids were at music to sit in the quiet and grade some classwork.

When you went to pick your class up, Charlie was waiting by the door, your class lined up behind him.

“7:00 sounds perfect. I’ll bring the refreshments” he said quiet enough so the class didn’t hear.

“I’ll text you my address” you said, smiling, “Alright friends, what do you say to Mr. G?” you asked, addressing your class.

“Thank you, Mr. G!” rang out in unison by your students.

“Bye guys! See you later!” Charlie waved, again high-fiving some kids on their way out. You turned around as your class walked to the end of the hall and Charlie shot you a quick wink before heading back into his classroom. Friday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*****

When Friday night finally did come, Charlie texted you around dismissal to make sure your plans were still on.

You: Definitely! But I hope you know I will be in my baggiest of sweatpants

Charlie: Glad we’re on the same page, I don’t wear real clothes outside of school, its sacrilegious

You chuckled at the text, making sure to send Charlie your address and apartment number. Your students filed out one-by-one until it was only you left in the classroom. You made sure to shut down everything and turn off the lights before making the quick trip to your car.

Once home, you threw your work clothes into your hamper and got into your designated sweatpants. Knowing that you were having company later encouraged you to give your apartment a good clean, something you hadn’t been motivated to do recently. You lived alone, but you preferred it that way. Sometimes after a long day of school it was just easier to come home and not have to talk to anyone about your day.

Soon enough, the buzzer in your apartment was ringing signaling that Charlie was downstairs waiting to be let up. You pressed the button to unlock the main door and waited by your front door for his knock. When it came, you opened the door to see Charlie carrying a large pizza, a bottle of wine, and bag of Halloween candy.

“You came prepared Gillespie” you said, taking some of the items from his hands. He kicked his shoes off by the door before following you into the small living room. You set the items down on the coffee table before getting comfortable on the couch, Charlie following suit next to you.

“I told you I’d bring the refreshments, didn’t I?” He asked, pulling a corner of your blanket over his legs. You laughed, grabbing the remote and turning the tv on. Once the Netflix screen showed, you passed the remote to Charlie who gave you a confused look.

“I can’t decide on movies for the life of me, so this one’s on you” you said, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. You ate and watched as Charlie flipped through the movies, settling on a horror film. “Should have guessed you’d try to kill me tonight” you laughed.

“Hey, when you put me in charge of the movie, you can’t complain about what I pick” Charlie laughed, opening the bottle of wine.

“Oh! Let me get us some glasses,” you said, starting to remove the blanket from your lap. Charlie’s hand stopped you from getting any further.

“I’m fine with drinking out of the bottle if you are…” he suggested. You shrugged, not really caring about sharing the bottle with him. The two of you settled into the couch, eating pizza and sharing the bottle of wine. You definitely jumped at some parts in the movie and Charlie laughed at you each time.

About halfway through the movie, the both of you had finished eating and were now resting comfortably on the couch. However, the movie only began to get scarier as a really gory part showed on the screen. You jolted with surprise and shoved your face into Charlie’s neck, hand gripping the shirt material on his chest.

“You can’t really be scared of this!” Charlie laughed.

“Of course, I’m scared!” you replied, voice muffled by his skin. Charlie only chuckled and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t go in there!” you shouted a few moments later to the girl in the movie.

“Of course, she’s going to go in there!” Charlie retorted, “it’d be no fun if she didn’t”

“Who said any of this was fun” you replied, getting ready to hide your face against Charlie again, “I can’t watch.” Again, Charlie pulled you closer, protecting you from the demons on the screen.

As the movie ended, you let out a sigh of relief. You quickly stood and made your way over to your fridge, pulling out another bottle of wine.

“After that movie, I need more of this, and a new movie to forget that one”

“I’m down for another movie. But you’re choosing it this time” Charlie said, grabbing the bottle from you and taking a sip. As you scrolled through the choices, you landed on one that had made you cry the first time you watched it.

“Okay, Gillespie.” You said, selecting the movie and hitting play, “Time to see you cry”

“Oh, I don’t cry” Charlie said, a smirk on his face. You made a “let’s see about that” face and the two of you settled in to watch the movie.

As the sad part began to get more intense, you stole a glance over at Charlie. You could see tears slowly cascading down his cheeks.

“I thought you said you didn’t cry” you joked, pushing on his shoulder with your own. Taken aback by the fact that you’d noticed him, Charlie quickly began to wipe the tears from his face.

“I’m not crying, my eyes are sweating.” He replied.

“Sure, tough guy. Don’t worry about it, crying is manly” you said, leaning into his side. He chuckled at you before pulling you closer to finish the movie.

*****

Two movies and two bottles of wine later, you stood to throw out the empty pizza box and candy wrappers.

“Shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going” Charlie said, looking at the time on his phone.

“You’ve been drinking, Charlie, probably not the best idea to drive right now” you said, holding up the two empty wine bottles. Charlie gave you a knowing look.

“Let me see if my roommate is still awake, maybe he can come grab me” But before you could even let Charlie unlock his phone to text his roommate, you blurted out a proposition.

“Or you could just spend the night here” You stared at Charlie, shocked the sentence even left your mouth. It was probably the alcohol that helped. Charlie looked at you, making sure he heard correctly.

“I mean, if you’re cool with me crashing on your couch…” he spoke slowly.

“Oh no, you can’t sleep on that. It may be good for sitting but if you sleep on it, you’ll wake up with a broken back. My bed is big enough, we can share…. If you’re okay with that” you quickly added. Charlie mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’ before helping you clean up the rest of the mess. As you made your way into your room, you turned on your bathroom light. “I have an extra toothbrush you can use,” you said, handing Charlie the blue toothbrush.

The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. As Charlie finished, he made his way back into your room while you took a moment to wash your face. When you walked back into your room, Charlie was sitting on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get in bed” you laughed. Charlie sheepishly looked up at you, locking his phone and putting in on the end table.

“Wasn’t sure what side of the bed you normally slept on” he replied. You went over to your side of the bed and got under the covers. Charlie followed suit on the opposite side of the bed. You clicked off your side lamp and turned to face Charlie.

“Sorry in advance if I kick you in my sleep” you said.

“If you kick me, we’re going to have a problem” Charlie laughed. It wasn’t long before the two of you dozed off comfortably facing each other.

*****

You woke up the next morning to your head resting on Charlie’s chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you. You laughed at the sleeping boy, noticing that he was no longer wearing a shirt. You tried to get out of bed without waking him, failing as his arm only wrapped tighter around you and a low groan came from the boy.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice low and eyes still closed.

“I was going to go make us some breakfast” you said. Charlie turned so his body was now facing yours, eyes still closed, and arms remaining around you.

“Five more minutes” he grumbled. “If you leave, I’ll be cold” he whined. You could only laugh.

“If I don’t get up, then you won’t have anything to eat in five minutes”

“I’ll buy us breakfast if you promise not to move” he said, voice low and soft. You replied with a quiet ‘okay’ and began to get comfortable.

“One thing though” you said, Charlie hummed in response, “When did you take your shirt off?”

“’mm like 2? Not sure, does it matter?” he asked. You mumbled a small ‘no’ not wanting to admit that you liked the feel of his warm skin against yours. You snuggled into him, hands reaching around and lightly dragging up and down his back. When you thought he’d fallen asleep, you let your hands stop, but when Charlie’s hand reached around to grab yours, mimicking your earlier motion, you continued.

You hadn’t realized that you’d fallen asleep, but you woke up in the same position, only this time Charlie’s fingers were lightly grazing up and down your back.

“Mornin’” he hummed, “Didn’t think you’d fall back asleep, did ya?” he teased. You lifted your eyes to meet his, taking in his bed head as well.

“Well, if you’d have let me get up the first time, I could have had breakfast ready for you” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Breakfast is ten minutes away” Charlie said, brushing your hair away from your face. You looked up at him, a little shocked he’d woken up and ordered breakfast. Your eyes met his and you watched as his fell to your lips. Your breath hitched and before you knew it, Charlie’s soft lips were on yours.

It was gentle and quick, too quick if you were honest. But having kissed him once already now, you worked up the courage to kiss him again, this time taking the lead. You moved so that you were straddling him, his hands quickly finding a home on your hips, rubbing small circles on the skin under your shirt.

A moment later, you found yourself lying on your back, Charlie hovering over you. He only pulled away when his phone buzzed from next to you. He quickly checked his phone, looked at you, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek before getting up and pulling his sweatshirt on. Just as quickly as Charlie had gotten on top of you, he was off and out the door.

Sliding out of bed, you threw on your sweatshirt and padded out to the kitchen. The front door opened and Charlie came in carrying two bags of food.

“What the hell did you order, Char?” you asked, grabbing a bag and beginning to open it. All kinds of breakfast foods laid out in front of you. Two arms landed their way on either side of you, locking you between him and the counter.

“Char?” he asked, voice low in your ear. Your face was warm as you turned around in the small space you had, noticing the smirk on the boy’s face. You weren’t sure how to respond, the nickname just kind of slipped out. But before you could respond, Charlie’s hand gently held your chin and his lips met yours once again. “Don’t worry” he said against your lips, “I like it”

He quickly lifted you onto the counter, slipping in between your legs and placing another kiss against your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, tasting each of the foods that Charlie had ordered.

*****

As the two of you cleaned up the kitchen a little while later you asked, “So, am I going to have to compete for your attention at school?” Charlie gave you a confused look, not sure what you meant by that statement. “Considering how all the fourth and fifth grade girls have the biggest crushes on you?” you asked, a smile playing at your lips.

Charlie chuckled, coming over to rest his hands on your hips, forehead resting against your own. “You’re the only one who gets this kind of attention” he quietly said before placing a kiss on your lips. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for more.

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leiawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Rowaelin Month, Day 11: Surprise kisses

Word count: 1168

Warnings: Just language, I swear. In apology for what I did yesterday...

When she heard the word “homecoming,” Aelin Galathynius pictured the cheesy and definitely unrealistic scenes of Netflix rom-coms. Assemblies where the entire school smiled and cheered as loudly as possible, the football team dominating Friday night’s game, and of course a packed hall of girls in semiformal dresses and guys in tuxes, dancing and shout-singing along to the fast songs and cooing at the handful of picture-perfect couples who took to the floor for the slow dances.

She really should have known better than to expect Hollywood at Orynth High.

Did they have an assembly? Yes, of course. The student body president sported a rather badly painted depiction of their mascot on his chest, and only about half of the students actually visibly gave effort during the cheer. And the ones who did were clearly ogling the cheerleaders. Aelin snickered, remembering her freshman (and only) season in cheer two years ago, when she learned of the simple and very effective single-finger gesture the cheer squad used to tell the pervs where they could shove their ogling.

Was there a football game? Absolutely. Did Orynth win? Yes, to the utter shock of everyone in the stands, they did. Rifthold High got ahead early in the first half, but somehow, Orynth picked up on defense and on actually receiving the ball, scored three times in a row in the second half, and held Rifthold to only one field goal that half to win 36-24.

It was their first win of the season.

And the dance? Well, it certainly wasn’t as “formal” as the movies showed.

Rowan Whitethorn had never had much love for school events, particularly homecoming, but when one was the star senior quarterback, one made sacrifices.

He’d genuinely thought the team was screwed at the end of the first half. The locker room was quiet, all the guys disheartened by the disaster that had been the first thirty minutes. And the Coach Bryaxis walked into the room, threw his clipboard at a locker, and told the team in very few words that if someone didn’t catch a goddamn pass, every single goddamn one of the goddamn pansies on this goddamn team would goddamn well be running stairs until they shat themselves.

A very different team walked onto the field for the second half. And they won. Coach was so happy that he poured the Gatorade cooler over his own head and yelled something unintelligible that probably meant “My team finally fucking redeemed themselves!”

After a game like that, Rowan couldn’t bring himself to skip the dance, even if it meant being subjected to about thirty different freshmen and sophomore chicks in skimpy dresses, stilettos, and cakey makeup flirting with him. If he was lucky, only twenty of them would be teetering on the edge of intoxication. Sure enough, within five minutes of him and the rest of the team walking into the crowded but shockingly well-decorated gym, a girl who couldn’t possibly be old enough to have a driver’s license sauntered over, her boobs practically falling out of her spangled minidress, and in what she must have thought was a flirty voice, asked if Rowan “wanted to show her his moves.”

Before Rowan could open his mouth to redirect her, Lorcan Salvaterre, his wide receiver, stepped forward in all 6′3″ of his glory and said, “Oh yes, I would.” He was halfway into the crush of dancing bodies before the girl could even squeak out that she hadn’t been talking to him.

As the rest of the team dispersed, finding their way onto the dancefloor, Rowan slipped to the edge of the throng, just close enough that he could pretend he was looking for a partner, and eyed the clock. Thirty minutes, then he could go home.

But then someone caught his eye.

Aelin walked into the gym with Lysandra, Elide, and Ansel, and immediately regretted her choice of dress. The emerald-green, sleeveless sheath hugged her upper body and flared slightly into a skirt that ended just above her knees. It had clear elastic straps to keep the top from falling off, which for her was a requirement. She couldn’t accidentally flash the entire student body of Orynth High at a dance; their Instagram stories would never let her forget it. The moment she and her friends entered the building, Aelin could feel the floor vibrating beneath her three-inch heels. The budget strobes the committee had managed to find in some attic somewhere flashed in a predictably boring rotation of green, blue, violet, pink, yellow, and white.

“El! Some chick’s dancing with your man!” Lysandra yelled over the music.

Elide looked over at the floor, where Lorcan was indeed dancing with someone, his face predictably emotionless. She snorted.

“It’s his gentleman act again; he’s probably saving Rowan’s ass from the little sluts who think they can catch the attention of the big hunky QB. Give me about twenty seconds and you’ll see chica over there running for the hills.”

“Or just the baseball team,” smirked Aelin. Elide winked saucily at her and headed in Lorcan’s direction.

Making her way partially into the horde of dancing students, Aelin smothered a grimace. She’d forgotten just how much she hated these things. Everywhere she looked, there was grinding, groping, body odor, half-shirtless guys who thought unbuttoning the top buttons of their dress shirt made them look hot, and an abundance of awkward dance moves that vaguely resembled, as Ansel so elegantly put it, “Dance Moms on lots and lots of crack.”

In short, a typical Orynth High dance.

She glanced at her phone. Thank God. Thirty more minutes and she could get the hell out. As she danced her way through the edge of the crowd, she ran smack into a solid chest.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn--”

“Aelin?”

“Rowan?”

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, each disbelieving that the other was actually present at the dance. Rowan ran a hand through his hair. “God, this is awkward. Dance?”

Aelin chuckled. “Sure, but please, for the love of God, over by the doors. I need some real air.”

“Agreed. And an easy getaway.”

So they danced back through the crowd, finally ending up over by the exit doors. When the song changed, Rowan grabbed Aelin’s hand and pulled her outside. She looked up at him, brows raised.

“Done already? Hmm, I thought you had more stamina than that.” There was no mistaking the innuendo in her voice.

Rowan’s voice dropped about two octaves. “Comment on my stamina again, I dare you.”

Before Aelin could make a snarky retort, Rowan’s lips met hers. She sighed into his kiss, twining her arms around his neck. When he pulled back some time later, his eyes were bright.

“Hi.”

Standing outside their high school gym, totally ignorant of the cool night breeze, Aelin kissed her boyfriend again, reveling in his presence.

“You came to the dance for me, didn’t you.”

He smirked. “I’ll never admit it, Fireheart. But yes.”

#my writing #rowaelin month #high school au

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just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Text

Paloma, Part II

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 8900+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: “plot bloat” (trying to get Paloma where she needs to go); fully legal age gap; curse words; alcohol; Whiskey acting like a bastard; a little sprinkling of angst; open-mouth kissing; protected P/V sex; some extra-soft!Frankie

On your third Monday at Statesman New York you led a planning meeting that should have been easy. Jack Daniels made it anything but.

The worst part was that you hadn't even been properly introduced yet. Where Champ had rolled out the red carpet for you at Louisville HQ, Whiskey was a phantom, too busy to meet with you during your first couple of weeks. That made what happened in the meeting even more humiliating.

You started by outlining the research that your team had gathered, the analysis that they had carefully done, and presented the options and outcomes. When you were done, Whiskey threw his copy of your report down on the table and said, "That's horseshit."

You felt your face heat with embarrassment, but you tried to hold your ground. "Excuse me?"

Jack waved his fingers dismissively, "That's alright, I'll excuse you. This isn't the kind of work I expected from our new 'hotshot' team lead. Why isn't there information about the facilities we'll be targeting?"

"There are no 'facilities' at this location, Agent. It's a one-and-done for a drop and extract. There's nothing to raid, nothing to seize, and nothing to see."

"Really?" He arched one eyebrow at you and rubbed his thumb over his lower lip. The sheer cockiness of it made you burn with irritation. "So how come the information we got last Friday tells us that there's a production facility the next block over? You really gonna send our agents halfway around the world without botherin' to target the facility next door?"

You froze. Was he correct? That didn't seem possible. How had your team missed that? You held his gaze with as much assertiveness as you could muster, trying to match his attitude so that you wouldn't appear to be weak. "I don't have information about any facilities."

He cracked a smirk, "Well then, you're not very good at your job, are you darlin'?"

You swallowed hard and tried not to let tears rise. How dare he talk down to you? What the hell was his problem? Another agent spoke up, saying that if new information had come in recently, then you could review it and reconvene later to discuss its impact. The meeting disbanded.

You felt like you had been sucker-punched, and you weren't sure if you wanted to flee to your office, or sit gripping the edge of the table and glare Whiskey down. You opted to stay, waiting for everyone else to file out. Finally it was just you and Whiskey left, sitting at the big conference table and having some kind of a stubborn staring contest. This was not how you wanted to start your new job.

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" You gritted the question out and held his gaze. You knew that cursing at a senior agent, not to mention the one who was the face of Statesman Whiskey and de facto head of the New York office, probably wasn't the wisest way to start your tenure... but neither was backing down and letting him roll right over you.

"Nothin' personal, darlin', but I can't let you give my agents incorrect or missing information. Your team should have known about the facilities at this location."

"It sure felt personal, Agent Whiskey. If you have a problem with my work, you take it up with me privately. I don't mind admitting when I've made a mistake, but it's shitty to treat people like that in front of others." You glared at him, trying to look as fierce as you could.

He finally looked away from you, and muttered something that might have been an apology.

"What's that, Agent Whiskey? I didn't quite hear you."

"I said, 'I'm sorry.' You're right. That was unfair of me."

Before you could stop yourself, you found acid on your tongue. "Well, well, the great Agent Whiskey lowers himself to apologize. No wonder you flash that charm at everything on two legs. Your manners can't stand on their own, can they?"

If you hadn't been so focused on gathering up your paperwork, you would have seen a flicker of hurt cross his face. Instead you stomped out of the conference room and thanked the stars that you hadn't cried. By the time you got back to your office, a cold ball of regret was starting to form just below your ribs. You prided yourself on being able to work effectively with everyone, and you were extremely proud of your track record at Statesman so far. Why hadn't you been less confrontational, or tried to smooth things over? Why had you jumped straight to a pissing contest?

---

"God, what an asshole!"

"I told you, he's kind of a lot to take." Ginger's voice on the other end of the phone came through calm and sweet, as she always was.

You spun your chair to lean back and stare up at the ceiling of your office, trying to keep tears from forming. "Ugh, he's such a colossal jackass. I cannot believe he tried to undermine me like that in the meeting. I could have strangled him!"

"Just stay out of his way as much as you can. I'm sure he'll calm down once he sees what kind of work your team produces. You're doing great."

"Yeah, well... not so great actually. It turns out he was right. There was a report on a facility that came through very late on Friday, and one of my analysts went home sick, so I didn't get it in time for the meeting. That's the worst part: he was right, the bastard."

"Oh, Paloma. I'm so sorry. I'm sure that stung."

You let out a deep sigh. "I'll be okay. I just hope I get the chance to catch him making a mistake, and then I'll shove it in his stupid face. Make him lap it up with that ridiculous mustache of his."

Ginger giggled. "As much as I'd like to imagine that with you, I gotta run. Call me later? I miss you!"

"I miss you, too. 'Bye."

You hung up and spun your chair around, coming face to face with the sight of Agent Whiskey leaning in your office doorway. His arms were crossed casually, one foot propped over the other, looking like he could stand there all day. Your stomach leapt into your throat and then dropped down to your shoes. How much had he heard?

"Oh, kill me now," you breathed.

"Not just yet, darlin’. We have work to do." He popped up from his perch in the doorway and took a seat in one of your visitors chairs.

"How can I help you?" You kept your tone respectful, although it verged on frosty.

"Well, we need to revise the mission plan to include the new intelligence. Then we need to have a talk about civility."

You arched an eyebrow. "Oh, civility? I see. What kind of ‘civility’ did you have in mind, Agent Whiskey?"

"Well, for one, you can call me Jack. And for two, I was comin’ down here to apologize again, but apparently there's something you'd like to shove in my face and have me lap up with my ridiculous mustache?" He twitched one eyebrow up, looking smug and amused by the double entendre.

You closed your eyes and suppressed a groan. Maybe this was a hallucination and you were still in bed at home. Or maybe you hadn't actually left Louisville. You cracked one eyelid open, finding Whiskey’s deep brown eyes still on you. You decided to try to be the bigger person and smooth things over.

"I'm sorry. I was venting to a friend, and obviously that wasn't intended for your ears."

"Well now, I’m a big boy. I've heard worse and survived."

"I apologize. I let myself get irritated by your behavior in the meeting. It wasn't professional, and it won't happen again."

"Well, for my part, if I think you've made an error, I'll be sure to talk with you privately instead of calling you out in front of the team. Deal?" He stuck one broad, well-manicured hand out to shake.

You reached your own out somewhat reluctantly, then warmed to it, feeling how large and soft his hand was when it wrapped around your fingers. "Deal."

He gave your hand one final squeeze. An involuntary tingle ran up your arm, and you found yourself wondering whether he was as talented with his hands as he was smart with his mouth. Oh god, what was wrong with you?

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand away, trying not to jerk it back like he’d burned you.

“I’ll, um, I’ll have my team revise the mission plan to include the new intelligence, and then we’ll reconvene tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Sounds fine, darlin’.” He winked at you and you felt something flutter just below your navel.

---

Despite the conciliatory conversation with Whiskey, you still felt awkward and hurt, not to mention confused by some of the warmer feelings that had popped up uninvited. You spent the next six weeks trying to fly low and avoid Whiskey. You sent your senior analyst as your replacement for every meeting that you possibly could, and when you did have to attend them you timed your entrances and exits so that you wouldn't be in the conference room any longer than necessary. You transferred reports to Whiskey's office electronically, and when a hand-delivery was required you sent whoever happened to be closest to you. It worked great. You hadn't said more than "hello" and "goodbye" to Whiskey in so long, you were starting to feel like maybe you had escaped the awkwardness, the horrific start to your time in New York. It felt like a bad dream from another era.

One late Thursday afternoon, your plan fell apart. You got a request from Whiskey's assistant for a hard-copy file, and the entire office suite was empty. Each of your team members was off doing other things or had left early. You avoided it as long as you could, running to the ladies room to pee and then lingering in the hallway outside your office, just in case someone from your staff came back. After 10 long minutes you realized that you were "it" and that nobody was going to come save you. You sighed and trudged to the elevator. It seemed to move too quickly, depositing you at Whiskey's floor in no time flat.

As you rounded the corner you saw that Whiskey's assistant was gathering her things to leave for the day. After one too many disasters with "pretty young things," Champ had put his foot down and assigned someone to Whiskey who would keep him on the straight and narrow. Mary was what you called a "motherly hard-ass," while Ginger called her a “saint.” Mary had worked for Statesman almost as long as Champ, and she knew her stuff inside and out. Most importantly, she was completely immune to Whiskey's flirtations. He had tried once or twice to charm her, but after finding that her warm exterior concealed a brick wall of professionalism and a razor-sharp wit, he had relented.

"Hi Mary!" You kept your voice cheerful and light, trying to hide the twisting in your gut. "Here's the file he requested."

"Hi Paloma, you can go on in." Mary smiled wryly, "He actually asked to see you if you showed up. Sorry, kiddo, you're a lamb to the slaughter." She patted your back in sympathy.

Your shoulders slumped, "Ugh." Just as you were about to air your disgust in stronger words, Whiskey's door opened.

"Paloma! Glad to see you, darlin'. Come on in."

You shot Mary one last look, pleading for reprieve. She patted your shoulder and bid Whiskey a good night.

You forced your legs to move, and when you got inside Whiskey's office you perched on the edge of the sofa in the visitors area. Whiskey preferred to entertain visitors away from his desk, so he had a cozy corner of the office set up with two large chairs, a coffee table, and a black leather sofa that seemed to take up half the room.

You tossed the file on the table and spoke in a monotone that bordered on rude. "Brought you the file. Need anything else?"

Whiskey gestured to the bar cart. "Can I get you a drink, darlin'?"

"No." You shook your head. "But thank you."

Whiskey shrugged and poured himself something amber in a small glass. You couldn't take your eyes off his hands as they deftly maneuvered around the glassware and ice bucket. They reminded you a little of Frankie's hands: strong and thick, sure and precise in their movements. But where Frankie's hands were warm, work-worn and calloused, Whiskey's were primped and clean, just as manicured as his sharply tailored suits and slick mustache. You bit the inside of your lip to bring yourself back to reality before your brain could wander any farther down the path of what Whiskey's hands could do.

You focused your gaze on the file on the coffee table and waited. Whiskey settled himself into the big chair closest to your end of the couch.

"Paloma, darlin'. Thanks for coming up."

You cringed internally and tried to screw up the courage to ask him to just call you Paloma. The nickname of "darlin'" was starting to grate. For a moment you weren't sure if it was because you found it unprofessional or because you wanted to hear it more. Shit. What was wrong with you?

"What can I do for you, Agent Whiskey?"

"Please, call me Jack."

"What can I do for you?" You refused to give in, drawing your mental line in the sand. You could have a whole conversation with him without calling him Jack, couldn't you?

"Well now, I was hoping we could finally chat a bit - outside of a meeting, that is. You've been here almost two months and I'm sorry that I haven't taken the time to get to know you better." He winked.

You suppressed an eye roll and pursed your lips. "What would you like to know?"

You weren't going to make this easy for him, you decided. If he wanted information beyond your resume, or even a friendly conversation, he would have to work for it. You weren't simply going to open up like a flower under the sunshine of his charm.

"Well, I understand you're from Louisville. Beautiful place." He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, trying to close the space between you.

"Yes." You scooted all the way to the back of the sofa and crossed your arms, somewhat amused at the difficulty you were giving him. He hadn't expressed any displeasure yet, but you were certain that he was going to get frustrated sooner or later.

"Well, darlin' I had no idea that we were growin' them so smart down there, not to mention so pretty. If I'd known, I would have lured you up here to the big city a lot sooner." He looked like he was about to wink again, or try to devour you.

"Is that so?" God, he was really buttering you up, wasn't he? You crossed one leg over the other, keeping your arms crossed over your chest for good measure.

"Yes, it is. I was awfully impressed by your analysis on the Rex Smith case ‘bout a year ago. I had no clue there were that many shell companies in the mix. I would've thought three, maybe four, tops. But you found thirteen!"

Your jaw dropped a little at that. Not only had he seen your work on your first case as Assistant Director in Louisville, but he had reviewed the case file thoroughly, remembered such a tiny detail, and was also giving you credit? You were starting to think that you had underestimated Agent Whiskey. His charm and sass were legendary, but you now realized that those traits didn’t indicate anything missing in the brains department.

He smirked at your reaction and teased you gently. "Better watch that mouth, darlin'. You're liable to catch a few flies if you don't close it."

Goddamn him. You closed your mouth and tried not to sulk. You didn't like making mistakes, especially not such idiotic ones. If you weren't careful, he was going to knock you on your ass.

"Can I get you that drink now, darlin'?"

"No, thank you. I need to get going." You uncrossed your legs and stood up. Whiskey stood at the same time, and you found yourself entirely too close to him, your bodies just inches apart as you tried to negotiate your exit from the seating area. Something warm that smelled like cedar and smoky bourbon was emanating off of him, and you were certain it was from the expensive side of the cologne department. His coffee-brown eyes held yours, and you caught yourself staring at him while your brain sent you panicky messages to, “Move! Speak! Leave!”

Whiskey let the moment hang, seeming to enjoy every second that passed like torture for you. His eyes were twinkling so hard you thought you saw sparks. You heard yourself exhale a breath that was far more shaky than you would have preferred. He put his hand out to shake yours, and you found yourself imagining what would happen if you bypassed the polite gesture and wrapped your arms and legs around him, knocked him to the floor and kissed that stupid mustache right off his face.

Instead, you reached out to shake his hand and accidentally brushed the front of his hip, just an inch from his crotch.

"Oh my GOD! That was an accident. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry!" You scrunched your eyes closed and buried your face in your hands. Mortification consumed you as you heard Whiskey guffaw. You felt like you were going to die of embarrassment, and you were pissed off that it wasn't a real possibility. Death would have been extremely welcome.

Whiskey put his hands on your shoulders and squeezed. His laughter died down to a soft wheeze. "Hey, look at me."

You dared a glance through your fingers. His eyes twinkled and his white teeth still showed in a wide smile. "I'm sorry I laughed, I know it was an accident. You weren't trying to take advantage."

You moaned and Whiskey chuckled again. "It's alright, darlin'. You didn't break anything."

“Argh! I’m so sorry. That’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t think anything of it.” He pulled you gently toward him, and you did something you never imagined possible: you let him wrap you into a hug.

“I’ll forget it if you will, darlin’.” His deep voice rumbled against your body and you felt yourself melting a little. Tears of embarrassment pricked at your eyes.

You sniffed and pulled back. Whiskey let you go, but kept one hand on your elbow. He looked at you warmly and smiled. “Really, darlin’. Don’t think anything of it.”

You found yourself staring into his dark brown eyes, warm and shiny with humor. The mood shifted almost imperceptibly, turning him magnetic. Something in you snapped and you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Whiskey hummed a surprised noise against your lips for a moment, then opened his mouth to let you in. His mustache was softer than it looked, and hardly tickled at all as you wrestled each other for satisfaction. You found yourself tumbling down to the couch. Whiskey lay over you with one strong arm wrapped around your lower back, keeping you pressed close against him. His lips and tongue were eager and searching, and you responded in kind, nibbling his plush lower lip and flicking your tongue across the back of his top teeth. The taste of his liquor intermingled with the scent of his cologne, and it sent your senses reeling. He tasted and smelled and felt so good, and you wanted to stay there and drink him in forever.

Your lips parted from Whiskey’s and you took a gulp of air, looking into his brown-black eyes above you. The inrush of oxygen kicked your brain into gear and you felt cold; both from the absence of Whiskey's mouth on yours and from the dose of harsh reality that washed over you. This was wrong... wasn't it? As good as it felt, it wasn't right to make out with the boss in his office, after hours, on a couch for God's sake. What the hell were you thinking?

"Oh, shit!" You shoved Whiskey's shoulders up and away, rolling him toward the back of the couch as you slithered out from underneath him. You landed on the floor, then crouched and stood up. Whiskey shifted on the sofa, turning to lay face up on the plush leather and folding his arms behind his head. His grin hovered somewhere between 'Cheshire cat' and 'kid let loose in a candy store.' You groaned at the sight while irritation and the desire to flop back down on top of him fought equally within you.

"Well now, darlin'. You need to be off somewhere?"

"Yes. This was not a good idea." You waved your hands in front of you as if you were trying to erase a blackboard. "I think I need to leave."

"Feel free to come back anytime, darlin'. I'll be right here."

You took three swift steps toward the door and then spun to face him. "I need you to stop calling me 'darlin''. My name here is Paloma."

He cocked one eyebrow at you as you continued. "And another thing, Agent Whiskey: this never happened."

Before he could respond you yanked his office door open and jogged to the elevator. What the hell was wrong with you?

---

"Ginger, you have got to help me. I don't know what's wrong with me." You shuddered out a breath as you kicked your shoes off and sat down at your kitchen table. At your elbow was the biggest drink you could pour without causing a hangover.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

You gulped. "I kissed him."

"What?! Why?"

"I don't know! I just... I was in his office and he was standing really close to me and then I went to go shake his hand but I accidentally touched his crotch and..." you trailed off as Ginger laughed. "It's not funny, it's embarrassing!"

She giggled at you. "That sounds kind of funny. You'll laugh about it later."

"I won't. I wanted to die of embarrassment, but then he was so nice about it and he was looking at me softly and I just- I kissed him! What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Try not to worry too much. You're not the first lady to make that mistake and you won't be the last. He'll forget about you as soon as someone else catches his eye.”

"Yeah, I know." You weren't sure if being one in a long string of women made you feel better or worse.

"… although it does seem like you have a ‘type’ now.”

“What?!”

“Well he is tall, dark, and handsome. If he weren’t such a jackass I’d say he reminds me of Frankie.”

“Oh, hell no. That is not a fair comparison. They’re nothing alike.”

“You’re right, Frankie was a gem. Listen, just avoid Whiskey and keep your eyes on your work. He'll forget about you and it'll be like it never happened. And as irritating as he is, I know he's not a gossip. Don't worry, this won't get around."

You threw back your head and let out a long breath. "Okay. You're right. All I have to do is my job."

"That's right. And you're really good at your job, Pal. Don't let this derail you, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Gin. I appreciate it."

"No problem. Listen, I have to go, but I wanted to tell you that I’ll be coming to New York next week. I have to do some training with, uh, a consultant. And when I’m done we can have a girl’s dinner out, okay? Just try to have a good weekend."

"Thanks, I will. You too."

You sighed and finished your drink. The idea of calling in sick tomorrow floated up, and you seriously considered it. But you had already spent six weeks avoiding Whiskey, and your integrity wouldn’t let you call out without a good reason. You could make it one day until the weekend, right?

---

You awoke Friday morning with a pounding headache and a cotton-dry mouth. You were dreading going to work, but duty called. You showered and dressed as slow as you dared, and found yourself dragging into the office only 15 minutes late. Fortunately, there was enough work to keep you distracted, and at your 10:00 department heads meeting you found out that Whiskey was out of the office for the day. Relief washed over you, and you suddenly felt lighter. You could survive until the weekend without worrying.

The rest of your day was uneventful until around 4:00, when an assistant brought you a vase of fresh flowers that had been delivered to reception. You frowned and looked for a card. The arrangement was beautiful, featuring dark yellow daisy-shaped flowers with fuzzy chocolate brown centers, and pinky-purple blooms shaped like bottle brushes. Both types looked oddly familiar. You leaned closer to examine them as your brain twisted in confusion. Were those...? No way... orange coneflowers and dense blazing stars? Who the heck would send you an arrangement of Kentucky wildflowers? Mom? It wasn't your birthday yet.

You felt an icy ball of lead punch you in the stomach as you opened the notecard: "Even though nothing happened, I had a hell of a time. Hope to see you again. -Jack"

That motherfucker.

Just as you were about to sweep the flowers into the trash, there was a heavy knock on your doorway. You looked up, and your emotions spun from anger to elation so fast you almost threw up. Frankie stood in your doorway, looking soft and rumpled in a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his sweet curls escaping the same well-loved baseball cap he always wore.

"Frankie!?" You leapt out of your chair and practically ran to him. He swept you up in a bear hug and pulled you six inches off the ground. "Oh my God, Frankie, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Hey, Paloma. I missed you. How's the big promotion? They make you head of the New York office yet?" His deep voice rumbled into your ear softly, and you laughed with joy. You never wanted to let go.

Frankie set you down and broke the embrace, and you immediately grabbed his hand and guided him to one of your visitors chairs. You took a seat in the chair next to him, turning it to face him and get as close as you dared without looking too desperate.

"Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?"

"I'm doing a quick consulting job for Statesman, helping Ginger train a few folks for an extraction. I have to work on the project Monday and Tuesday, and then I'll be in town until Saturday as a tourist. I took the whole week off, so I don't need to be back in Florida until next Sunday." He smiled broadly at you.

You felt your own face split into a wide grin. "Do you need a tour guide? I've been here two whole months. I can show you my favorite coffee shop and we could go to a few museums."

He smiled warmly back at you, and you felt like you had been wrapped in the world's softest blanket. "I'd like that. Statesman gave me an apartment for the week. Should be close by, if you don't mind showing me where it is?" He pulled a slip of paper out of his wallet and read the address.

You threw your head back and cackled.

"What's so funny?"

"That's my apartment! Statesman owns a few units in the same building." You grabbed the piece of paper from his hand to read the apartment number. "You're literally one floor below me for the week."

He grinned. "Well, shit. If I'd known that, I would’ve just told them to let me bunk with you."

You frowned and handed the paper back. "Wouldn't your girlfriend be upset with that?"

Frankie looked down at his shoes. "She's, uh, not my girlfriend anymore. We broke up."

"Oh, Catfish. I'm so sorry." You reached out to squeeze his forearm, and the feel of his warm skin over ropey muscles made you tingle. You vividly remembered how much you used to love grabbing those forearms as he pounded into you, how good they felt wrapped around you in the shower, how strong and safe Frankie felt at all times. You pulled your hand back and cleared your throat.

Frankie stood. "Listen, I gotta take care of a few things this afternoon, but can we go to dinner later? Nothing fancy, if you know anyplace I can go dressed like this," he gestured to his worn jeans and work boots.

"Unless, uh,” he pointed to the flowers on your desk. “Is there a boyfriend who would be mad if I took you out?"

You stood and smiled, biting your lip. "No. There’s no boyfriend, and I'd love to go to dinner. I'll come down to your apartment and pick you up at 7:00? 7:30?"

"Seven is perfect." He hugged you, and the smell of him spun you right back to Louisville. Frankie smelled like clean cotton and hard work, with a faint whiff of mechanic's grease just under the scent of his laundry soap and Old Spice deodorant. You used to tease Frankie about his habit of buying the same deodorant that he’d been using since junior high, but he always swatted you away with a, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Now the scent of it made you want to buy every package in the world and always have the smell around you.

When you broke the embrace it was so hard to let go, to not lean in for a kiss like you used to. He seemed to feel it, too, lingering just a moment longer with his arms wrapped around you and smiling wistfully as you finally pulled apart. You wanted to stay in his arms for hours, maybe even stow away on his flight back to Florida.

“I’ll see you at seven, Paloma.”

You felt your goofy grin reappear. “Okay. I’m so glad you’re here, Catfish.”

---

The hours until dinner crawled, and you spent more time than you thought wise trying to get ready. You showered and put on your nicest outfit, which was really just the all-black, most-recently-purchased version of your normal work clothes. Your job at Statesman didn’t call for anything very dressy, so you hadn’t expanded your wardrobe beyond work staples. Still, you spent entirely too long arranging your hair, sweeping it one way and then the other, trying to figure out what jewelry to wear, and then changing your hair again for the third time. You were contemplating another shoe change when your phone alarm went off, warning you that it was five minutes to 7:00. Oh, well, too late to change anything now. You brushed your teeth frantically and hoped Frankie wouldn’t care.

You floated down the stairwell and found yourself grinning idiotically as you rapped at Frankie’s door. He opened it looking exactly the same as he had at 4:00 that afternoon, and you chastised yourself internally for trying to dress up. Your irritation turned to pride, however, when Frankie looked you up and down with a low whistle.

“Jeez, Paloma, you look fantastic. Should I change?” He looked worried.

“No, you look fine! We’re not going anywhere fancy, I promise. I don’t know why I changed clothes, it was silly.”

“No, you look amazing.” He opened his arms for a hug. You felt warmth rush to your face as you leaned in. Frankie was always so eager to please and to compliment you, to make you feel good. You had missed him so much.

The walk to dinner was easy, conversation bouncing between the two of you as you made your way to the restaurant. Frankie filled you in on everything going on in Florida, about his friends and his parents and his job. You spoke enthusiastically about your new position and how much you loved New York. You decided not to share information about either one of your run-ins with Agent Whiskey.

Dinner passed in a swirl of giggles and wine and good food. Frankie made you laugh so hard you almost choked twice, and before you knew it, nearly three hours had passed.

“Frankie, I think the restaurant is going to kick us out if we don’t scoot soon. Do you want to go walk around a little bit?”

He drained his water glass and nodded. “Yeah, where to?”

“We can window shop down the street, and there’s a cute little park nearby.” You arched one eyebrow at him, “Wanna go play on the swings?”

He laughed and nodded. “Yes, let’s do that.”

You fought Frankie for the bill before letting him win. “Okay, but the next one is on me, Catfish.”

When you emerged into the summer night, you both took a deep breath, trying to clear your heads of the alcohol haze. You weren’t drunk, just pleasantly buzzed and a little silly. Without thinking, you tucked your arm into Frankie’s and snuggled yourself against him as you wandered along. Store windows were lit up against the dark, and you stopped here and there to look and giggle at displays.

You paused in front of an antique store. The window behind the bars was lined in red velvet, and on each of the little red display pillows sat a piece of vintage jewelry.

You were quietly gazing at an enamel bracelet and a sparkly tiara when Frankie’s voice broke the silence.

“You ever want one of those?”

“A tiara? No. I mean, it might be fun for a hot bubble bath, but I can’t exactly wear it to work.”

“No,” he nudged your arm and tilted his chin toward the far left side of the store window. “An engagement ring.”

You froze and suddenly couldn’t breathe. Your eyes shifted to a sparkly, square-cut sapphire ring sitting on the smallest pillow. You couldn’t form rational thoughts, and you weren’t sure exactly what kind of answer Frankie was expecting.

“I mean- uh, I guess I never thought about it. I haven’t seen anyone since we-” you swallowed hard. “I’ve been single since we broke up.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, and when he didn’t respond right away you found yourself filling the silence with nervous chatter. “I mean, I tried dating but it never went past a second date, and I don’t know anyone who would propose that early, and anyway I just- I mean I didn’t think- and you left so I didn’t…” you trailed off, realizing that you weren’t making any sense.

Frankie’s voice was low and serious. “I thought about it.”

That broke the spell and you turned to face him. “You thought about it? About me?”

He looked at you, almost shy. “Yeah, I thought about it a couple of months after we started dating. But with your job and my work, and… Well, you know what happened. You were there, same as I was.” He reached out a hand to cup your chin. “I was sorry it didn’t work out for us.”

You sighed and melted into him, “Oh, Frankie.”

He wrapped both arms around your shoulders as you gripped his waist. Your mouths found each other in the dark as if your last kiss had been yesterday. Frankie was warm and solid and familiar, and you found yourself aching to hang on to him, to keep him there with you for as long as you could.

You stood on the sidewalk together for what seemed like hours, exploring each other and passing silent messages back and forth with your lips and tongues and teeth. Slow swirls of the tip of his tongue around yours told you he missed you, and the tiny nips you bit against his bottom lip conveyed an urgency, a need that you couldn't express in words. You found your fingers entwined in his belt loops, pulling him as close as you could, mimicking the kind of connection that really required nakedness and absolute vulnerability together.

You turned sideways to loop your arm around his waist and walk unsteadily back to your apartment building, stealing kisses again and again as you strolled, then paused, then continued on your way. The trip took twice as long as it should have, but neither you nor Frankie was willing to break apart for longer than it took to step down off a curb or glance at a walk signal. You just kept kissing, drunk on each other and wanting more and more; silently cursing the fact that the apartment was still so far away, but reveling in the moments that you could seize right now to embrace each other as you walked.

When you reached your block, you murmured against Frankie’s mouth. “Do you have anything? I don’t have any protection at home.”

He cursed softly, “Shit. No, I didn’t bring…” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you kissed him again.

“Don’t worry, that’s why I asked. There’s a drugstore right here.”

“I always knew-” he kissed you softly, “... that you were smarter than me.”

You giggled against his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re the one who can fly helicopters. I just stare at data reports all day.”

You walked into the pharmacy holding hands and made it through the checkout line in record time, urgently kissing again when you reached the sidewalk, navigating the final dozen or so yards to your building.

The elevator ride consisted of one long kiss, broken only by Frankie’s urgent, “Mine or yours?” You murmured, “Mine,” and pressed the button for your floor, folding yourself back into his arms. You unlocked your front door while Frankie held you from behind and peppered kisses down your ear and cheek and jaw, distracting you as you fumbled with your keys. When you finally got the door open, you tumbled inside together and slammed the door shut.

Now that you were someplace private, you could undress, fumbling against one another as you struggled to open buttons and zippers and bra clasps in between kisses; to continue your soft caresses while you kicked shoes and pants off and away. Finally you were both standing, wearing only underwear while you continued to embrace. You pulled away from Frankie and picked up the box of condoms where it had dropped, then you took his hand and led him to your bedroom.

You tumbled onto the bed together and continued the makeout session that had started miles away and what seemed like an eternity ago in front of the antique store window. Frankie’s strokes along your ribcage and thighs were light and almost ticklish, so familiar that you wanted to cry. You had no expectations of getting back together and attempting a long-distance relationship, but he was here right now. And that was good, right? It was familiar and lovely and sweet.

Frankie hadn’t changed a bit since you parted 10 months ago, except for a few more grays in his beard and one or two more crinkles when he smiled. You ached and ached for him, even though he was right on top of you, kissing you and touching you and murmuring your name. Your brain kept raising the idea of what would happen in a week when he had to leave, or what might have happened a year ago if Statesman hadn’t demanded so much from both of you. The knowledge that you had missed becoming Frankie’s wife because of shitty circumstances, combined with the threat of losing him again in just a few days time punched you in the throat, and a sob escaped your lips as tears sprang to your eyes.

“What’s wrong, babe? Did I hurt you?” Frankie looked you over, rolling to one side to examine your face with a worried scowl. He propped himself up on one elbow and hovered over you.

“No, I’m just-” You sniffed back another sob. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and I’m so glad you’re here. It’s just a lot, that’s all.”

He brushed a tear from your cheek. “We don’t have to do this right now; not if you don’t want to. I didn’t come here with the expectation that you would jump back into bed with me.”

Your heart leapt at that. Same old sweet Frankie, doing everything he could to treat you tenderly, to care for you. You knew that if you tried to explain everything you were feeling, he would probably take it personally. Frankie hated to see you hurting, and doubly so if he thought he was the one who had caused it.

“I might just need a minute. I’m okay, I promise. It’s just been a weird week.”

You decided to joke, to lighten the mood and try to ease Frankie’s worry. “My old boyfriend is back in town, and I just found out that I missed out on him being my husband, and I also kind of kissed my boss yesterday, so I’m not in a real ‘steady’ place right now.”

Frankie frowned at that. “You kissed Bill?”

“Oh, no! No, not my boss-boss.” You paused, unsure of whether or not Frankie would hate you for your next words. “I kissed Agent Whiskey.”

Frankie’s eyebrows nearly leapt off his forehead, but he didn’t sit up or let go of you. He didn’t run out of the room screaming. “Is there something I should know?”

“It was a mistake. I was in his office and I accidentally touched his crotch-” Frankie’s eyebrows raised another impossible inch as you continued, “Truly an accident, a horrible, embarrassing accident. And then I think I just felt really vulnerable and lonely and I kissed him.”

Frankie nodded. “It happens, I guess.” He looked at you tenderly. “Although I’ve never kissed my boss. He always has food in his beard.” You erupted in giggles and tucked your face against Frankie’s chest. He stroked your arm and shoulder, laughing against your hair.

Your giggles subsided, and you rolled away from Frankie, laying on your stomach and folding your arms under your chin. You sighed and turned your face to him. “I am glad you’re here, though. I really missed you.” You paused, trying to formulate your next words.

“It took me a long time to get over you, and I’m honestly not sure I ever did. If we hadn’t both had so much work and conflicting schedules, if things had been different-” Frankie leaned over and cut you off with a soft kiss.

“You don’t have to tell me how things could have been different.” He stroked your temple. “After we broke up I just couldn’t handle working around you. I didn’t hate you, I just had to leave. It hurt too much to stay.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.”

“No, don’t apologize. It wasn’t you, it wasn’t me, it was just life.” Frankie leaned over and kissed your cheek, stroking your back with feather-light touches, raising goosebumps as silence settled over the both of you.

His touch felt amazing, conjuring electricity where his fingers met your skin. Tingles started to form in your pelvis and you found your breath shuddering in time with Frankie’s caresses. You sat up and moved to straddle him, entwining your fingers with his and pinning his hands to the bed next to his ears.

Neither one of you spoke as you rolled your hips gently on his and stole kiss after kiss, feeling his erection grow and press harder against your vulva, still separated by the fabric of both your underwear and his. Finally you broke your grip on his hands and Frankie reached up to cup your breasts. You arched your back to press yourself into his palms, and your nipples stiffened with the friction and the heat of his touch. You grabbed the backs of his hands and pressed them harder against you, as if you could multiply the sensations that were zipping through your body.

You leaned down for another kiss and then swung your leg off and over him. You stood next to the bed and pulled your panties off, then reached over Frankie to grip his waistband. He lifted his hips to assist you, and when his cock sprung free you nearly gasped at how much you missed him and missed this, the intimacy and the raw electricity and the closeness. You reached out to stroke his length a few times, running the pad of your thumb gently up the underside and over his slit. He was damp there, but not leaking yet, and you let go only to grab the box of condoms and rip it open.

“Here,” you handed him a foil packet and let him put it on. When he was covered you gripped him again and gave him three firm, slow pumps, pulling a moan out of the deepest part of his chest. You straddled him again and hovered over him, making eye contact as you lined up to insert him, taking him into the most intimate part of you. He stroked one large hand from your knee to your ass, then cupped both cheeks and pulled you slightly apart to help guide him in. You closed your eyes and let out a soft hiss as he entered. Everything felt so good and familiar, like no time had passed at all, like he had never left.

When you were fully seated on him, you placed your palms on his shoulders for leverage, watching with delight as the tendons in his neck flexed and his Adam’s apple bobbed, veins throbbing on either side of his beautiful throat as you rode him. He reached one hand down to thumb your clit, pressing and petting it and drawing whimpers from you as the pleasure swelled within you. Neither one of you spoke as you gazed into each other, moving together in a practiced rhythm, increasing the pace and the tempo and the force until you were shaking the whole bed. Then your head spun and you found yourself crying out his name as you climaxed around him. You slumped over him and buried your face in his neck, that gorgeous soft crook between his throat and his shoulder. He braced his feet and thrust up into you. Chills wracked your body as you squeezed and fluttered around his cock. He grunted and clenched his jaw, “I’m coming.” And then he pulled you closer and froze, holding you there as he filled the condom. When he relaxed his thighs and arms, you reached down and gripped the base of the condom to keep it on him as you rolled sideways and off.

You both lay staring at the ceiling, recovering your breath, trying to remember where you were and why anything outside of your shared pleasure mattered.

---

Frankie stayed at your apartment all weekend. The two of you kissed and caressed, showered and fucked, made breakfasts and dinners, watched movies and slept curled together, until you almost forgot how much you had missed each other, almost forgot the fact that he would have to leave.

On Monday you and Frankie walked to the office together and kissed at the front desk, parting ways for the day. You ran into Ginger in the hallway and squealed and gave her a hug. She smiled at you and wiggled her eyebrows. “Did you see who our consultant is for this project?”

“Yes! He came by my office on Friday and we went to dinner.” You leaned over to lower your voice and murmur, “And we spent all weekend together.”

Ginger laughed and you grinned and rolled your eyes. “It’s nice. I don’t know if we’re ‘back together’ or anything, but I’ll have fun hanging out with him while he’s here.”

Ginger bit her lip, “I’m glad. I know you guys really missed each other, but I’m happy you can see him while he’s here.”

“Me, too.”

You and Ginger made plans to have lunch together that afternoon, and your mood was light as you entered your office. It dampened a bit when you saw the flowers from Whiskey that were still sitting there. And it dropped further when you saw a note from one of your staff saying that Whiskey had requested that you come see him when you arrived this morning. You decided that you would just have to treat him like nothing had happened, and keep your head up. After all, you were on cloud nine with Frankie in town, so what’s the worst that could happen?

You found Mary’s desk empty, so you squared your shoulders and knocked on Whiskey’s door. He could try to irritate you all he wanted, but you were going to be cool as a cucumber.

When he opened the door, Whiskey grinned at you and motioned you in. You opted to stand next to his desk with your arms crossed. If this was business, you would keep it businesslike. He walked up to you and raised an eyebrow, still grinning like a fool.

You looked at him and frowned. What was his deal?

He started the conversation cryptically, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Did you get my flowers?”

You opted for the driest tone you could, “Yes. Thank you.”

He nodded, “Good. Listen, darlin’-”

You interrupted him. “Paloma.”

“Right, Paloma. I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime and apologize again for behaving like a jackass in that meeting a few weeks back.” He placed both of his large, warm hands on your arms and squeezed. “If we could see our way clear to some kind of understanding, I think I’d like it very much if we could-” a knock on his door cut him off.

Mary opened it and stuck her head in. “Agent Whiskey? I have the consultant here for your 9:00 meeting.”

Whiskey hissed out a breath and sounded disappointed. “Right.”

You pounced on the opportunity to escape. “I’ll just get going.”

Mary opened the door all the way and Frankie walked halfway in, freezing at the sight of you and Whiskey standing so close together. Guilt creeped up, even though you had no reason to feel that way, and you fought the urge to apologize to Frankie.

You and Agent Whiskey spoke at the same time, words jumbling together as Frankie approached to shake hands with Whiskey.

“Hi, Agent Whiskey. You can call me Ja-”

“Frankie, hi. I was just-”

“Oh, do you two already know-”

“We used to-”

You found yourself standing next to them as they shook hands and sized each other up. Your own discomfort was so strong that you almost didn’t notice that they were jostling each other as if they were fighting for dominance. A strange energy settled over the three of you as they stared at each other. If you didn’t know any better, you would have said it felt like they were fighting over you.

“Whiskey, this is Frankie Morales. He and I used to work-” Frankie cut you off, something he normally would never do, and his next words mortified you.

“Paloma and I used to date when we worked together in Louisville.”

You groaned. You weren’t embarrassed that you had dated Frankie, but the less information Whiskey had about your personal life, the better.

“Is that so? Well, I didn’t know that.” Whiskey’s voice was as smooth as the leather on his couch, and he cocked an eyebrow at you. Instead of irritating you, it had the effect of sending a flutter to your crotch. You gulped, hard.

Whiskey turned back to Frankie. “Any big plans while you’re here in New York?”

“Paloma and I are going out.”

“We’re what?” Your voice was louder than you had meant it to be and both men turned to look at you. You felt stunned by the double gaze, the two pairs of dark brown eyes, the strong noses and lovely mouths; features so similar to one another now that you saw them together. Maybe Ginger was right, maybe you did have a “type.”

Your brain did a somersault, throwing up the most shocking and simultaneously wonderful idea, and you wished you could banish the thought back to whatever delicious hellhole it had sprung from. You almost burst into tears, thinking that the stress of your job had finally broken your brain. Under normal circumstances, the idea and all of its implications would have been curious, but under the current circumstances it was absolutely ridiculous. The absurd, impossible word had popped into your head entirely uninvited: “Threesome.”

Frankie and Whiskey stared at you for three long, agonizing seconds, then they both spoke the same word at the same time.

“WHAT?”

“Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud?” ---

"Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: (Please message me if you're on here and don't want to be!)

@honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #Statesman!Frankie Morales #Statesman!Frankie Morales x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels

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marvelobsessedteenager · 3 years

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, description of an explosion and blood.

Summary: Peter Parker. What a dick. It wasn’t always like this, but once he just got up and gladly left you for an unknown reason, you decided to bring hell down on him by publicly ridiculing him whenever you got the chance. However, when you accidentally find out what he's been hiding, conflicted feelings begin emerging, causing you to wonder if you could ever forgive him — especially when he saves your life.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: this came to me in a fucking dream so you bet I had to wake up and write this. It’s already completed hehe. I’m going to be posting the parts every day so stay tuned :D

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Never in your entire life would you have thought that there’d be a time when you’d willingly side with Flash. When you’d join him in bullying Peter, your best friend that you’d known since the both of you were shitting yourselves in diapers. Not a night goes by in which you don’t ask yourself why.

Why did he decide to break you?

The day he told you he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore was a day worse than finding out your father had cheated on your mother, prompting her to abruptly exit both your and your father’s lives when you were eleven. In all honesty, it felt like Peter took notes about suddenly leaving when you cried to him about your mother disappearing and used them to his advantage the summer before freshman year.

It was a pain like no other, a wound so hurtful your tear tank was constantly emptied every time you were alone in your room. There were too many nights where you’d lie awake with an ache in your chest - like someone dropped an avalanche on your heart and left it there to crush it.

Friendship breakups hurt like hell.

The days seemed to move slow and the nights even slower. You didn’t know how much time had passed when you’d blankly stare at your collection of photos of the two of you with tear stricken cheeks.

You constantly wondered if he regretted it.

And if he did, you told yourself you’d forgive him. You’d go back to him, because you were sure he didn’t mean it. Excuses began piling up in your mind, each one not having enough evidence to be proven true; maybe he was going through something he didn’t want to talk about. Maybe someone in his life died, like when Uncle Ben suddenly passed away. He didn’t speak to you for a week and didn’t show up to school, and when you went over to check on him, he broke down in your arms as he apologized for ignoring you, but you understood.

You always did.

So, you waited, and waited, and waited. Waited for a call, a text, something. But nothing ever came. No phone calls — he ignored yours — no apologies, no explanation, nothing but radio silence. It was almost like you never existed in the first place.

Day by day your hope slowly faded, and by the 56th day, all of it was gone. You didn’t know how to feel. You were furious at him for abandoning you. You were heartbroken. You told yourself you were being overdramatic — it wasn’t like you were in a relationship together, no matter how much you wanted to be.

All he ever saw you as was a friend. But that was before it all happened. Now he probably didn’t see you as anything but a stranger.

A stranger with memories and secrets revolving him.

Hot anger was quick to take control of your mind, and soon you stopped your crying and tore down years worth of captured memories and pinned birthday cards he made you - all reminders of how much you loved him - and threw them into a box. You shoved it to the back of your closet, along with your dignity and love for him.

Four months after your ‘breakup', you came back different. Newfound confidence shone out of you with every step you made down Midtown’s hallways. Your smile radiated happiness as you felt everyone’s eyes lay upon you. You were able to fool yourself and others around you that nothing happened. Your heart knew better, but soon it’d turn to stone.

And you convinced yourself that you preferred it that way.

You moved on, found friendship in others, and although they never lived up to him, they were enough to fill part of the gaping hole in your heart.

Flash making amends with you was probably the most surprising and unexpected thing to have ever happened in the school. You two got along well, almost too well, and about halfway into the school year, you became good friends. You two weren’t as close as you and Peter once were, but you bonded over your absent parents in ways you didn’t know were possible.

You felt understood, and he the same.

Still, that didn’t stop you from seeing Peter in the hallways. You made it a point to walk past him like you didn’t know him — because apparently, you didn’t.

You kept watching him from a distance.

You watched him make goo-goo eyes at Liz while rolling your own.

You watched him dart out of school at exactly two forty-five every day. You saw the anxiousness in the way he bounced his leg during class, the tapping of his pencil on the desk, the constant glances he threw at the clock with every minute that passed. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t.

On a particular day, the same day you overheard him and Ned making plans to meet up at his house to build Legos, you decided to go to Delmar’s to grab a bite. You hadn’t been there since the breakup, as you were always too nervous in case Peter ended up going there at the same time, and now that there was a clearing, you took it. Even if he was there, you didn't care.

You don’t.

When you stepped into the store, you were immediately welcomed by the one and only Mr. Delmar. He looked good — happy and content, and that’s why you absolutely adored him. It wasn’t fair that you cut off ties with him because of Peter, but he didn’t seem to take it personally. He went on and on about how much taller you’ve gotten and reminisced about how little you were when you and Peter got your first flattened number five sandwiches with pickles.

He must’ve seen your smile falter at the mention of Peter, because his eyebrows furrowed in concern not a moment later, “Did something happen to you kids? I never see him come with you anymore.”

So he’s been coming without you.

Ouch. That’s another stab to the heart.

Your palms began to feel slick as you rubbed them on your jeans with a strained smile and a shaky voice, feeling as if the walls were closing in on you, “Uh-we-“

But you never got to finish. Mr. Delmar’s eyes widened at something behind you, and in a split second, he yelled, “Get down!” followed by a string of Spanish curse words.

A scream left your mouth as a purple wave of something ripped through the bodega, nearly missing you by a strand of hair as you ducked. Shattered glass scattered everywhere, digging into the skin of your arms in a multitude of places. You hissed at the burn you felt below your eye, feeling a heavy liquid (which you assumed was blood) trail down your cheek and neck. You felt intense heat near your legs and your vision became blurred, ears ringing as all other noises besides your breathing became muffled. You coughed and coughed, feeling like your lungs were closing in on themselves from the fire that surrounded you.

The light above you flickered as you attempted to shout Mr. Delmar’s name, praying that he was all right.

But your voice never left your throat.

Your legs were trapped below two giant shelves that collapsed on them, and you weren’t strong enough to move them no matter how many times you tried to. The fire slithered like a snake as it began climbing to where your legs were being held below the rubble.

“Help.” You weakly whispered in between your coughs. The air around you felt heavy and limited, and it was starting to feel like you were choking on the fumes. You didn’t know how much longer your lungs could take.

It was hot. So fucking hot.

Your eyes shut and your head fell back on the ground, chest heaving in fast paces as you felt your body give up already, a burning sensation spreading all over you, like your insides were set on fire.

Your face trickled with sweat that dripped down to your cheeks, mixing with your tears.

Just when all hope was gone, just when you thought you were done for, you felt the weight lift off of your legs in one sudden movement, and an arm slide beneath your knees and on your back, holding you tightly.

You looked up at your savior, and who else could it have been other than Spider-Man, New York’s knight in shining armor, and apparently yours, too. You heard part of what he seemed to be saying as he looked down at you: “…got…I…you” and you could’ve sworn you heard your name.

But then again, you were on the brink of death, so you were no doubt hearing things.

You laid your tired head on his chest, wheezing into his smooth suit as he ran and jumped away from the fire until he reached the outside. He gingerly placed you on the ground and made you lean back against a parked car, and you breathed in the cool night air as he crouched down to rub your back while you practically choked.

In front of Spider-Man.

How embarrassing.

You felt your head heavily fall back as you clutched your arm in pain, the distant sound of police sirens audible now. Your eyes landed upon his covered face that turned away when you looked at him - like he was staring at you until you caught him. You could see that he wanted to go somewhere in the way that his spidey-eyes were expanding and shrinking at the destroyed bank across the street. You moved to touch your legs, and by some miracle, they were just a little sore. You could manage on your own.

“Go,” you breathily said, making Spider-Man look down at you, “I’m okay.”

He hesitated for a moment and pivoted his head to your legs. You breathed out half a laugh, coughing again, “Dude,” you placed a hand on his shoulder and jutted towards your legs as you began moving them, “they’re fine. I’m fine. I know you wanna go somewhere. Just go after it.”

He stayed. For a long minute, just watching you breathe and tilt your head at him. You wondered what was going on in that brain of his, wondered how old he was, wondered where he went to school - if he even went to school. You were trying to formulate a way to thank him for saving you, but you didn’t get the chance to. He nodded and quickly he sprung away, making way for the paramedics and cops to inspect the scene.

You didn’t go to school for a whole week after the incident, as you were too busy reflecting on what had happened. You went over multiple scenarios and “what if’s” and tried not to dwell on the fact that you had to have your driver pick you up from the hospital, not your father. He was probably out of the country, like he always was.

When you finally returned to school, you had stitched up three areas, including one below your eye, and were bombarded with questions and a large group hug from your friends. Your phone was no doubt a goner, so they had no way of contacting you. Even when they tried to come over, your housekeeper, Jane, always the responsible adult, told them the doctor needed you to rest alone.

She knew you couldn’t handle people, and needed to recharge on your own. She was like the mother you never had. Even when Peter left, she stayed by your side and tried to cheer you up. She knew how strong your feelings were for Peter, but she didn’t question you, instead allowing you to grieve the way you wanted to - alone.

Your friends asked you about what happened, and their eyes sparkled when you told them the Spider-Man came to your rescue, their excitement cutting short once the bell rang. They all left to go to their classes after wishing you a quick recovery. All but one.

Flash stood in front of you, nibbling on his lower lip with a wobbling chin and glassy eyes.

“Are you..crying?” you squinted at him, lips twitching into a smirk.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, wiping the stray tears before attacking you with a tight hug. You sighed deeply, feeling a nostalgic warmth spread through your chest as you placed your chin on his shoulder, arms circulating him and squeezing in a way that said "I’m here."

In class, you felt hardcore stares — stares that came from one person and one person only. You saw them from the corner of your eye, tracing the scar on your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were laced with worry. But perhaps you hit your head too hard.

During gym class, the last class of the day, you were excused from exercises due to your near-death experience, so you watched and cheered Flash as he climbed the ropes, attempting to break his own record.

“48 seconds.” You stated, pausing the timer as he jumped to the ground and planted his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

He looked up at you with a deep frown, “Seriously? How did I get slower?”

You shrugged, “Maybe you should change your nickname, Eugene.” You smirked, taunting him with the name you knew he hated.

He breathed out a laugh as he shook his head. He was about to say something when Ned’s voice overpowered everyone else’s with one sentence: “Peter knows Spider-Man!”

Everybody went so silent you’d think the queen of England had just walked in.

The sound of balls being dropped and shoes squeaking echoed through the gym as all heads turned to Peter Parker, who nervously looked around and quickly stood up, “Uh, no! No, I don’t. I-I mean..”

He clumsily made his way over to Liz (go figure), whose face remained expressionless.

“They’re friends,” Ned said as a matter of factly.

“Yeah, like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends,” Flash said, making a couple of people laugh, including you.

“I’ve met him, yeah, a-a couple of times. But it’s um, through the...Stark...Internship. I’m not really supposed to talk about it.” He gritted through his teeth as he threw daggers at Ned with wide eyes.

“Well, that’s awesome!” You piped in, your loud sarcasm breaking the silence that settled over the gym, "He’s a pretty cool guy, I’m sure Liz would love to meet him. Hey, maybe you should invite him to her party.”

“Yeah, I’m having people over tonight, you’re more than welcome to come.” Liz sweetly admitted, almost like she wanted him to come.

Ew.

“You’re having a party?” Peter said breathlessly, as if that wasn’t what you just said.

Flash gave Peter a snarling smile, “Yeah, it’s gonna be dope. You should totally invite your personal friend Spider-Man.” He suggested, derision oozing out of his words.

“Um-“ Peter stammered, helpless eyes searching for assistance in your own. But you wouldn’t give him any sympathy. Not anymore. You stared back, cold as ice, and you knew he saw that. You merely gave him a raised eyebrow, challenging him to say something.

“It’s okay,” Liz said, breaking you and Peter’s eye contact, “I know Peter’s way too busy for parties anyways so..”

“Oh, come on, he’ll be there. Parker wouldn’t ditch.” You said, voice dripping with venom as you maintained eye contact with him and walked past Flash until you reached him. You stopped at his side, just enough to give him a deadly stare, “Right?”

You watched his Adam’s apple bob and eyes dart across the ground as his fingers tangled with one another to conceal his shaking left hand. You studied his face, ignoring something that looked like a fading bruise on his jaw. The school bell rang, and with that, Flash walked to you, raising his hand for a fist pump. You bumped yours with his with a smirk and walked out the gym doors, ready to call Peter out on his bullshit once more tonight.

Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader

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dcforts · 3 years

Text

[day 13: poinsettia]

It started as soon as Cas joined them at the diner and slipped into the booth next to Dean liked he usually did.

“Thanks for coming, Cas. We really need your help with this one,” Sam said.

“I’m here. Tell me everything.”

Sam was shuffling through his papers, about to bring him up to speed on the case, when he heard Dean snap, “Can’t you sit on the other side?”, with such vitriol that Sam looked up at him, shocked. His brother’s face was twisted with hostility, “It’s a little tight in here.”

Cas rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner but got up anyway to move next to Sam.

“So,” Sam started, frowning at his brother, back to sipping his coffee like nothing happened. He turned his focus on Cas, “just in this past week, twelve couples from this town filed for divorce.”

Dean scoffed, “Yeah, I’m still not sure this is a case. It’s Christmas, everyone fights during the holidays.”

“Yeah, but the point is – once they started, they simply couldn’t stop. The neighbours say -”

“So we’re playing marriage counselors now, what a way to hit the botto-“

“Could you be quiet?” interrupted Cas sharp, throwing Dean a glare. “I’m trying to listen to Sam.”

“What’s there to listen? I told you, there’s nothing for us here.”

“How can you be so sure -”

They were raising their voices and people from nearby tables started to crane their neck towards them.

“Guys,” Sam hissed, “I don’t know what’s happening here but can we -,” he tried to say, but it was like he wasn’t there anymore. Dean and Cas were throwing daggers at each other and as Sam’s gaze moved between the two of them, he started to suspect that something not normal was going on there. So maybe the marriage requirement for the curse wasn’t as literal as they thought.

He started sweating, “Uh, can we go back to the case now?”

“I don’t know,” said Cas, his voice dripping sarcasm, “maybe Dean has something more interesting to do.”

“Look, you’ve been here five minutes and-”

Sam sighed heavily. “Alright. Guys- guys, w-why don’t you take this outside? I’ll pay the check and be right out.”

Scoffing and grumbling, then slipped out of their seats and stormed out of the diner.

Sam sighed and raked his hands through his hair.

He tried to tell himself that it could be a coincidence, but his confidence whitered considerably as he watched through the windows his brother stomping through the parking lot and Cas following him with his arms crossed on his chest.

He took out his phone and called Rowena.

“What is it now, Samuel?” she answered.

“Hey Rowena. I- I need your help.”

Not even halfway through the story she interrupted him with a chuckle, “Oh, don’t worry Samuel. I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“You do?”

“But of course. And I know who’s doing it. It’s a witch, goes by the name of Emlen. They like to cause mayhem during the holiday season. Harmless curses, wear off right after Christmas. It happens every few years.”

“How are they doing this?”

She thinks about it for a moment, “At the victims’ houses. Did you happen to notice a poinsettia?”

“Th-the plant?”

“Yes, a poinsettia Sam, the Star of Bethlehem, the Fire Flowers of the Holy Night.”

“Yeah, got it. I don’t think so, I mean, everyone’s got one these days. So, maybe?”

“Well, the last time that’s what was setting off the curse. It’s very clever actually,” she went on, “They have them delivered to their door, and the plants let out these fumes -”

As she talked, and the wheels turned furiously in Sam’s head, his eyes fell on the centerpiece in the middle of the table. In a little jar, among glitter red berries and snow covered pine-cones, set a fresh plant with red and green leaves.

Sam shook his head, defeated. There was no doubt now.

Dean and Cas were in trouble.

He sighed, and snatched the plant to stuff it in his bag. He threw a couple of bills on the table and hurried to the exit still with his phone attached to his ear.

“So I need to look for a florist?”

Rowena sighed, exasperated. “No, Samuel. They are way smarter than that. I bet they enchanted a florist to do the work for them. You’ll need to go and gather all the plants and in the meantime – I imagine I could prepare an antidote of sorts to stop the effects right away. You’ll have to give it to the victims.”

“What about the witch?” he asked as he pushed open the glass doors and stepped out in the cold parking lot.

“I’ll take care of Em. We’re old friends, I’m sure they’ll be reasonable if I asked it as a favor.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief but his worry spiked again as the Impala came into his view. Even from there he could see Dean and Cas talking fast at the same time, clearly arguing.

Rowena said, “Did you say twelve couples, right? It’s twenty four vials.”

“Uh – actually. Can we make it twenty six?”

“Sure, Sam,” she said, sarcastic, “and I bet you want the express shipping as well? You know I only have two hands and can’t possibly…”

“Just – Please,” cut her off Sam, trying to express the frustration he was feeling. And he was feeling a lot of frustration as he was approaching the car and could hear indistinct shouting from the inside, “I’ve got a bit of a situation here. Um, Dean and Cas are kind of at each other’s throat.”

Rowena chuckled, but didn’t sound surprised at all as she said, “Of course they are. Fit the profile, don’t they? Alright Samuel, I’ll be there soon. Just try and hold tight, my poor boy.”

“Yeah, thanks Rowena.”

The ride to the motel was frosty at best. Sam stayed absolutely still in the backseat and did not comment on the Dean’s jerky driving or the fact that Cas stared grumply out of the window the whole time.

He had tried a weak, “Are you guys still fighting?” when he’d slipped in and they both had given him a stern “No,” that obviously meant the opposite.

Back at the motel the situation did nothing but worsen. They sat on opposite sides of the room and resolutely did not look at each other.

Well, at least until Sam broke the silence to say, “Rowena is on her way. This will be over in no time,” and his brother commented under his breath, “Yeah, Rowena is always there when you need her. Must be nice.”

And Cas whipped his head around, “If you’re referring to me, I’ll have you know that I came as soon as you called.”

Dean snorted, “You mean, as soon as you decided to pick up your phone.”

Sam let out a whimper.

“As I already told you -” thundered Cas but Dean cut him off, raising his voice, “I don’t wanna hear it, Cas. You say the same thing everytime and they you disappear again for two weeks!”

“Uh, guys? Why don’t we -” Sam tried to interrupt them by blocking their view of each other but they just stood up and walked around him.

“You know what’s funny?” Cas went on, sarcastic, talking over him, “That you’re always saying that I should be around more, but when I am around, you sure go out of your way to make me feel unwelcome.”

“Fine!” exploded Dean, “If that’s how you feel than I’ll just stop asking you…”

“… as if you ever asked. You just assume…”

“… then I won’t have to…”

Sam resisted the urge to press a pillow on his face and just closed himself in the bathroom.

When he finally heard knocking, Sam ran to the door and pulled Rowena in uncerimoniously.

“Oof, Sam, this is no way to greet a lady,” she complained but then her attention was caught by Dean and Cas behind his back, shouting in the middle of the room a few feet from each other. Her jaw dropped.

“... wish you’d just stop covering your feeling with humor...” Cas was saying.

“... well, I wish you’d stop snooping in my head every chance you get...”

“... If you think one needs to have celestial powers to see what’s clearly on your face Dean Winchester...”

Rowena met Sam’s desperate gaze and winced.

She patted his arm, reassuring, “I’m here now.”

“I’m not drinking that.”

“This is ridiculous. Dean and I are not married.”

“I know – just – please. You’re driving me nuts,” said Sam, pratically shoving the vials in their faces. Rowena had proposed to magically bind them and Sam was starting to consider it.

Thankfully - without even stopping glaring at each other - they took them from his hands and downed them in one go.

There was a moment of stillness and then Sam saw them sprinting towards one another. He gasped and tried to step in, thinking that they were about to throw punches but instead they ended up – smashing their mouths together.

Which was definitely more jarring for Sam. He stood frozen in shock and then made his way to Rowena, who was calmly putting on her coat, her back to the scene.

“Er, Rowena?” he called, alarmed. “Uh, they’re – is this normal?”

She threw a look over her shoulder at Cas wrapping Dean in his arms and Dean yanking Cas’ hair.

“Oh, it’s just a little after effect,” she said lightly. She met Sam’s worried eyes and explained, “The antitode has some ingredients in common with love potions. A little nudge, just enough to reverse hostility. It brings out desire. It’s nothing, Sam,” she shrugged, “and it’ll wear off in a couple of minutes, so I say we get out of here now and go deal with Emlen and the other couples. You know,” she smirked, “in case they decide what’s good for them and decide to stay.” She shouldered her bag, “Chop chop now, Samuel,” she said cheerfully, shoving him slightly. “We got work to do.”

Two minutes later, Dean and Cas pulled away from each other in the empty motel room.

They looked wide eyed, their faces red, their lips swollen. Dean’s voice was on the verge of hysteria and disbelief when he said, "We kissed.”

He was still holding the lapels of Cas’ trenchcoat and Cas still had his arms tight around his waist.

Cas blinked at him, “Yes,” he said, “I think we were cursed.”

Dean nodded briefly and tried to think fast. “Sam must be working the case,”. He thought about calling him, making sure he was alright and didn’t need assistance but his eyes couldn’t stop flicking between Cas’ eyes and lips, “Seems like whatever he’s doing is working. Uh - Sorry about -”

“I’m sorry too,” Cas said, still a little out of breath, “Can we keep kissing now?”

Dean exhaled, “Yeah, good idea,” he said, throwing his arms around his neck.

joining @bend-me-shape-me in doing this!

#SPNAdventCalendar2020 #deancas #destiel #deancas ficlet #destiel fanfic #1.8k #rowena #this is very silly #they get cursed #case fic #old married couple #im still sorry sam #it's not me it's them #all my works should be tagged #season? what season?#i may take a break after this #my writing

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devilyn · 3 years

Text

wet pillows | kuroo tetsurou

— alexa, play: pillows by eaJ & keshi.

Give me your loneliness and I'll give you mine Leave all your tears by your bedside, and let's live a night I know you feel a mess and your pillow won't dry Come lay on me instead and pay no mind To the voice in your head

— synopsis: months after a painful breakup, you find someone just as lonely as you. — genre: angst, lots of tears, lots of making out. — word count: 1.8k

What was it about 2AM that haunted you? It’s been months since your ex ended your long term relationship, though you’re sure the love between the two of you ended months before that. Yet you were still getting used to laying alone during the night, which is why you always forced yourself to leave your small apartment to venture into the always bustling college parties.

Maybe tonight, you’d think to yourself every night as you sipped slowly from your red solo cup, I’ll go home and forget.

And every night, you’d end up disappointing yourself by going home alone drunk and staining your pillow with tears again.

It was your nightly routine. By the sixth party, you were used to standing by yourself against the wall and ignoring everyone that may have come your way to coerce you to dance with them. You were really only there to drink, and stop thinking so much. The loud music obstructed your thoughts, and mindlessly watching hordes of college kids laugh and drunkenly make out was enough distraction from what used to be happy memories of your past relationship.

Which is why you were here again tonight, back pressed up against the wall while swirling the free jungle juice around in your cup. You had probably been there for over two hours now, and you must’ve consumed over three full cups of this mysterious liquid. Your vision blurred--a tell-tale sign that it was time to go home.

With a sigh, you tossed your half-empty cup into the nearest trash can and made your way outside, shuddering at the cold air that whipped against your heated cheeks. For a second, you just stood outside the front door while gazing up at the starry night sky.

Briefly, you glanced at your phone. 1:29AM. A bitter smile graced your lips. You’d make it home just before 2AM came around.

“Everyone’s favorite wallflower is here again.”

You turned your head to the side, eyes slowly scanning the man behind the voice that was clearly speaking to you--the only other person outside.

“What’s it to you?” you murmured under your breath, fully prepared to leave the stranger standing there by himself.

“Just wondering why you always come to these parties to drink without taking anyone home,” you felt something warm drape itself over your shoulders, and when you turned your head, you met his curious hazel eyes.

“Who I sleep with or don’t sleep with really isn’t any of your business, is it?”

He laughed as you hugged the jacket closer to your clearly shivering form. He was amused, that was obvious by the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

“No, it isn’t. I just wanted to know,” his hand came up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, and strangely, you didn’t flinch away, “if I could be a lucky exception to your habit of going home alone.”

You were seconds away from slapping his hand away and throwing his jacket back at him, but stopped when the mischievousness in his eyes melted into something more vulnerable.

“I could use the company,” his voice was quiet and light, very unlike his previously overconfident tone, “of someone who may be just like me.”

Your gaze softened. You hated that you recognized the look in those cat-like eyes of his.

Your body acted before your brain could tell you not to. Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him into a deep kiss. You could feel the shock in his tense muscles, but he was quick to react and melt into your embrace. His arms snaked around your waist to pull you closer, lips moving against yours almost with desperation.

Seconds later, you pulled away with a gasp. He rested his forehead against yours, soft eyes reflecting your own. Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest, and you were quick to close your eyes, masking the action as you bathing in the moment. Though, if you were correct in your assumption about him, he probably saw right through you.

“What’s your name?” you questioned in a quiet murmur.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he answered with a soft, breathy laugh.

“Kuroo,” you smiled, eyes still closed. “Wanna come home with me?”

A sob rippled past your quiet cries, and you clutched at the cloth over your heart. You thought you were over it--over the past. Some nights, you’d sleep peacefully and forget your ex even existed. Other nights, you laid awake with tears silently streaming down your cheeks, unable to control the sadness eating you from within.

On nights like this, you’d call him.

Your hand blindly reached for your phone, fumbling to call Kuroo as quickly as you could. When he picked up, the first thing you did was break out into uncontrollable sobbing. Yet, his panicked voice calling your name soothed your aching heart.

“I-I’m s-so-sorry--”

“Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault,” he cut you off, voice soft as it always was when speaking with you. “I’m on my way, okay?”

All you could do was nod, focusing on his soothing voice telling you to breathe in, and out. In, and out. He’d be there soon, he said. In, and out. Slowly, yes, you’re doing good. In, and out.

Eventually, your cries calmed down, and he whispered a soft, “I’m here.”

You shot up, throwing the blankets off your body and tossing your phone to the side to bolt to your front door. You wrenched the front door open, and your sorrow-stricken eyes filled with relief at the sight of his familiar bed head.

You threw your arms around his shoulders, tears stinging as they ran down your cheeks. His arms now instinctively hugged you close, and he let you cry loudly into his shoulder while his hand ran slowly up and down your back.

In and out. In, and out. You recognized the familiar sound of his voice, and it kept you grounded enough for you to breathe again. Soft hiccups left your lips as he pulled back just far enough to cup your face in his hands, smiling weakly.

“You’re a mess,” he teased softly, thumbs brushing the tears still slowly dripping from your eyes. Still, he tilted his head down to meet your lips halfway. His kiss tasted like salt and relief all at once. In an instant, your thoughts that had been filled with a person who had left you months ago were now empty. Instead, you focused on the way Kuroo’s tongue slid over your own and pushed past your lips to taste every inch of your mouth.

When he finally pulled back, your body instinctively leaned forward, wanting more. He smiled softly and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Can you spend the night?” you asked softly, eyes finally fluttering open to meet his. Just like when you first met, they reflected that same emotion you recognized so well.

“Of course,” he brushed your hair gently, sliding his hand into yours and leading you back into your bedroom.

In minutes, he had flipped your tear-stained pillow over so you could sleep on a dry surface and tucked you into your warm sheets. He shuffled in beside you and pulled you into his arms. Your arm wrapped around his midsection and you tilted your head up instinctively, lips searching for his. He gave into your wishes, and dipped his head down to kiss you softly. Slowly, he peppered more kisses across your cheeks, your eyelids, and your nose. When he heard your quiet laugh, he finally smiled contently and kissed your lips again.

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he whispered. “So sleep.”

And sleep you did. Quite peacefully, you drifted off. That night, you didn’t dream.

Loneliness. That was what you recognized in Kuroo, and that was what you two shared that made your relationship so strange.

Loneliness was why you had your arms wrapped around him when he showed up unannounced at your apartment just two minutes before 2AM.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked as he held back tears. “I couldn’t go to anyone else.”

“I know,” you murmured in a soft tone. You had done the same thing to him countless times before. He had as well, but the two of you apologized each time.

Kuroo finally broke, and let himself cry. He cried quietly, body wracking with constrained sobs as you pulled him to sit on the edge of your bed. You stood between his legs, letting him bury his face into your chest to hide his pain from your sight.

The two of you recognized the loneliness in each other that night. That’s why you let him close, and it’s why he approached you in the first place. You never asked him why he shared the same look in his eye that you did, and he never asked you why you sobbed your heart out every other night. There was a mutual understanding between the two of you that you’d spend the nights crying into each other’s chests and sharing teary kisses, but you’d never push too far.

“You can always come to me, you know that right?” your hand ran through his hair absentmindedly as his cries calmed down. He nodded against your chest, and as he looked up, you couldn’t help but smile at his red eyes.

He pulled you back into the bed, and you stumbled slightly as you fell on top of him with a soft noise of surprise. His arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. The wetness of his cheeks brushed over your collarbones as he placed shaky kisses to your skin.

You let him make his way up from your neck to your chin until finally, he was pulling you down to press his lips to yours. You gave into him easily as his tongue pressed your lips apart. His hands never roamed below your waist, but his fingers slid under your shirt to gently brush over the bare skin of your lower back.

You knew his taste very well, and you knew this wouldn’t be the last night you kissed him like this. You pulled back just far enough for his lips to lean forward to search for yours again. You smiled softly, giving in and pressing lingering kisses to his lips until he finally let out a pleased sigh.

“See you in the morning,” you whispered to him, and he hummed sleepily as he curled into you.

There’d be more nights like this, sharing tearful kisses and depending on each other’s loneliness. Eventually, the two of you would need to come to terms with your relationship, whatever it was. But for now, you breathed in Kuroo’s scent and closed your eyes.

You could forget that you were lonely, for tonight, the night after that, and the night after that.

We'll live all night long And we can go home after This is all done and keep hoping for more

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou angst #kuroo tetsurou imagines #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #haikyuu angst #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kuroo imagines #kuroo scenarios

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glitterge1pen · 3 years

Text

Have You Ever Considered Craft Supplies Instead Of Drugs? Then This Might Be For You.

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, 1,691word count

His room for the most part was clean. It’s main function was for sleep though. This was apparent. His clothes, which were mainly basketball shorts and blank t-shirts, were scattered about in a way that told you he threw them there when going to bed.

Kyotani had told you to give him a few minutes, while he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and struggling with the cap of his eyeliner pen. You felt comfortable enough in his apartment to check the fridge and see if anything was worth your while. But still you felt a bit like an intruder in his bedroom, which is where you had wandered off to.

The walls were white, mostly bare. There was a poster up for some band you didn't recognize, and another one advertising the Sendai Frogs that looked like he had ripped it off one wall to get onto his. You smiled at the thought of him stealing the poster from the grocery store display window or stadium parking lot.

You give his room one last once over before turning to leave. On your way out you trip over a shoe box. You would have just ignored it but a few tufts of paper flew out from the lid. You bend down to collect them but find that these aren't just trash from the shoe box. Quietly, and with a tinge of guilt, you kneel down to gently put the papers back in the box. The little scraps of paper you had found were actually sticky notes, you couldn't decipher the writing on them because of how faded and old the paper was.

You get one quick glimpse inside the shoe box on Kyotani’s floor. There are dozens of papers, printed photos, receipts, tickets, and what you assume are old keys. You feel like you've seen something very private of Kyotani’s and when you turn around to find him standing in the doorway, you gasp in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

He seems more concerned and confused about you versus the fact that you are in his room. You decide sarcasm is the best choice of action.

“What? You embarrassed about me being in your bedroom?”

“Shut up and get out!”

Kyotani puts his hands on your shoulders and tosses you out into the hallway.

“Hey, hey, what time is it because we might actually be late to the movie now,”

You say pulling out your phone to get a glance at the clock. There was only twenty minutes before you were supposed to be at the theater.

“We’ll be fine, the trailers always play for too long anyways”

He says leading you out the front door.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

When the team wins a game and you head out to eat with the guys afterwards, your eyes don't usually follow Kyotani’s hands so closely. You hope that no one else has picked up on your new habit. But last week's venture into his bedroom has left you reeling in thought.

Kyotani doesn't really like to be hugged. During movie nights he sits separate from the pile of pillows and bodies. He tolerates head pats and high fives. When he hangs up the phone you can feel how difficult it is for him to say something like “bye I love you” platonic or not.

You hadn't really considered it before, at least not so intently in relation to Kyotani. Most people were easy to understand in their affections and how they garnered it. Or if they weren't so obvious, they made some sort of distinction, a simple “I don't like when people do this” or “I prefer this”.

Being friends with Kyotani you had assumed that he was content with what people gave him because he never asked for more. He didn't hug you when you two parted ways, and you never forced him to. He didn't ask or push on others boundaries but now after seeing that shoe box you wondered why he had never advocated for his own. You thought perhaps it wasnt that Kyotani disliked those other forms of affection or care, but rather he didn't regard those other acts as affections at all.

The sounds of the restaurant fade back in as your thoughts simmer down. You feel Tsukishima and Yamaguchi next to you. Enthralled in a conversation about some show they had been binging together. Apparently Yamaguchi had watched a few episodes without Tsukishima and everyone found the annoyed, bitter expression on Tsukishima hilarious, the table erupting in laughter.

“You good? You've been staring at nothing for five minutes,”

Kyotani said to you before taking another bite into his food. He sat across from you, his elbows propping him up over his plate of food.

“Yeah, just tired today,”

You say shaking your head as if trying to wake yourself up.

As the evening wears on, your eyes still follow Kyotani’s hands. Trying to catch the moment of thievery in action. To see if your contemplations are grounded in Kyotani’s actions or rather thoughts with nothing to hold as they pass you by.

But as everyone files out of the restaurant, the bill already split, the copy of the receipt abandoned on the table, you watch as Kyotani lingers for just a moment, to pocket the slip of paper.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You couldn't remember the last time you had attempted to burn a CD. Was it you who did it or a friend? It was years ago though that was for sure. You had made three playlists on spotify, checking and double checking that they were private playlists. After arranging them and finding the songs that fit just right with each list you started finding youtube videos of each song. From there you converted the links to MP3 audio.

While your computer whirred and the audio filed loaded onto the disk you thought about decorating the CD cases. Of course covering the clear plastic case with glitter gel pen and cute stickers was very tempting. But you weren't sure that was Kyotani’s style. At the same time this was supposed to be a gift from you. You met yourself halfway. Decorating one CD case like how you would have wanted, and the other with more of a Kyotani flair, the third somewhere in between the two.

When the CD’s were done you carefully placed them into their new plastic homes. Grabbing a black sharpie to scribble the playlist names onto each. You felt like wrapping them would be too extravagant so you settled for tying a ribbon around the two.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“What the hell do you want?” Kyotani says as he pulls up next to you on the curb outside your place. You had texted him earlier while he was at work, asking if could stop by after he got off. He has the window rolled down and you take it upon yourself to unlock the passenger door and climb inside.

"I wanted you to test these out"

You were hoping that you had done everything right with the computer.You hand him the CD's, he flips them over in his hands inspecting them.

“Is it cool if I take these ribbons off?”

You nod and he turns the car radio on to insert the CD’s. As the first song starts playing you turn to him.

“This is that band you like right? The one on that poster in your room?”

Kyotani is visibly flustered by this.

“Yes? Did you...did you make these for me?”

You throw your head back in a laugh.

“Yes, I made them for you,”

“Oh,”

He says in a rather soft amazed tone.

“Look, I didn't mean to, but when I was in your room the other day I tripped over that shoe box you have,”

You keep your eyes trained on the street outside the dashboard window. Unsure and a bit nervous to see what Kyotani is thinking. Tempted by curiosity though, you do look at him for a brief moment, only to find him also intensely staring off into the street. His face lit up red with embarrassment.

“I’m glad that I saw it though. Because that stuff is important to you and I want to know what you think is important”

The air in the car feels like it is clinging to your skin with tension. You think the pressure will start to crack your bones when Kyotani’s voice splinters the suspense.

“It's easier to feel something when its tangible, when you can hold it, it's why people still buy polaroids and go to museums and shit”

You nod, a jovial ease overcoming you as he continues to speak.

“I don't really like, uh, I guess physical affection or even talking or it’s not like talking, people call it words of affirmation or whatever,”

You hold the smile of your lips down, you don't want him to think you’re teasing him in this moment. You're just happy that he is comfortable enough with you to say such things.

“I know lots of other people like to have those types of things though, and I worked really hard to get used to stuff, but I don't know, this is what I like,”

He says gesturing with the CD case to you.

“I mean so like, birthday cards, post-it notes, bus transfers? Things that are directly attached to memories and people? Anything else you want me to know about?”

While it hurts a little that he’s struggling to talk about this matter, you can't help but revel in the unusual brash shyness of Kyotani. He does mutter something, but when you lean in closer to signal that you didn't hear him the first time he repeats himself.

“Event pamphlets. I know it's trash but I like it”

“Promise you won't get mad?”

You drawl your voice out and make it sweet so he knows you're messing with him.

“Hm?”

He says, eyebrow quirked in question.

“I think you'd be really into scrapbooking”

“Shut the hell up before I kick you out of my car”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: Took a break from my current writing obsession to spit this out .

#kyotani x reader #kyōtani kentarō #kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader

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