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writingforfishes · 5 months

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Otto and Atticus Chronicles 2: The Beginning

I am very aware the hiccup kink is not a large community. Most of the more visible community members have unfortunately shown themselves creepy-side first. I'm sure it hasn't endeared many people to this weird little kink to be harassed and watched without consent.

So I don't expect too much interaction on Tumblr. But if I happen to awaken a couple of the hiccup kink blogs that were active years ago that would be enough.

***

This particular story is a bit of a kink sharing origin story for the couple. Wanting to remind anyone who reads it that this story is very big on the Fantasy aspect, aka what I really want out of a relationship. I doubt I'll ever have anything close to what Otto and Atticus have, but this is an outlet for my what if... universe.

I suppose what Otto describes is some form of voyeurism. I'm not sure I'm even a little bit accurate on the likelihood or the oddness of having a kink like Otto has. But, again, this is high Fantasy in a lot of ways.

This fic is slightly NSFW and contains: -Discussion of a trans body and mild mention of anatomy -Discussion of a body parts commonly associated with people assigned a male gender at birth -FAST hiccups -S3lf Pl3asure of a nonbinary person and a person assigned a male gender at birth. -Mentions of previous alcoholism

***

Otto and Atticus had been dating for a year before they decided to move in together. As Atty was living in an apartment and Otto in a house they both decided that Atticus would move in with Otto. That had been their hang out place anyway for months and so, after shyly confessing their desires to move in together over one of Otto’s home-cooked meals, Atticus had started the overwhelming task of purging and packing.

Up until this point Atticus hadn’t given Otto’s hiccups a second thought. Well, perhaps that wasn’t true. Atticus mostly pleasured themselves on videos and audio clips, some purchased and others from consenting adults that had posted said files online. They’d given no real hope of seeing their partners hiccups, though. Otto would suppress his belches from time to time after drinking something a bit too fast or something too cold. He would even give movements in his body that indicated a single hiccup. And a few times Atticus had heard a hiccup from the kitchen, though they’d never seen Otto with a case. But as Atticus never shared their kink with their boyfriend they never intended on having Otto be a part of that part of themselves.

Atticus and Otto both admitted to varying levels of asexuality and aromanticism, though their connection despite both of their shared demi-romantic nature was undeniable. Was Atticus in love? They had no idea. They simply didn’t know what love felt like. But they certainly adored Otto in a way they hadn’t felt before. So if that was “love” they were happy to claim it as such.

As much as the couple had spent time with each other Atticus moving in had made Otto’s strict routine a little more evident than it had before. They’d never seen Otto first thing in the morning, sniffing and huffing and fussing around a kitchen at around 7am. Atticus wouldn’t have even been awake but it had taken them a while to adjust to the sound the clocks made, especially as some of them were striking clocks. The chimes and strikes they would eventually get used to, but this was the first week of living with Otto so their sleep wasn’t exactly restful, yet.

For now Atticus was in the spare room, a loft deal with a bed and dresser, on the second floor of the house. Otto and Atticus hadn’t shared a bed, yet. They both agreed they wanted to get a feel for each other’s routine before trying. Plus Otto tended to run hot while asleep and admitted that in other relationships he’d felt stifled in having someone so close to him all the time. Atticus was a mover while they slept so they were very amiable to the suggestion of separate beds.

Regardless, here Otto was now. Atticus saw him as they descended the stairs to the welcome smell of coffee. Otto was a bit of a coffee fanatic and Atticus had already learned so much from him on that regard. Otto was also an alcoholic. Atticus would say that he was a former alcoholic but Otto insisted that even while sober alcoholism didn’t go away so the term alcoholic in the current sense was way more accurate. His alcoholism was a big reason for his routine. Atticus was sober out of boredom with alcohol and that wine had long since started to disagree with their stomach so cutting it out completely wasn’t really that big of a step for them. Besides, coffee was obviously the superior drink.

Atticus stopped at the door frame to the open kitchen and watched Otto shuffle this way and that in making coffee. It took a second for Otto to realize the small person who was watching him lazily in their long red robe and sock feet. Otto startled a little.

“Oh hey!” he laughed. “Morning! I’m making coffee if you want?”

“Coffee. Yes,” Atticus managed, not a morning person in the least.

The smaller figure shuffled themselves to the kitchen table and sat heavily. They wiped their eyes with their sleeve. Holy crap it was early.

Otto sensed their drowse and smiled a little.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked conversationally. “Was the bed okay? The mattress is a little old. I know you sold yours. I think we should probably get you a new one. You’d been talking about getting one anyway, right?”

“Yes,” Atticus confirmed. They nodded. How anyone had this much energy this early was something unearthly to them.

“You didn’t sleep well did you?” Otto worried.

“I...uh,” Atticus started, delicacy hard to obtain at a time they would usually be dead asleep still. “The clocks...are gonna take a while to get used to.”

“Oh,” Otto said. “Is it the striking? I can silence that...most of them have a silencer.”

“No. No, I want to get used to it. I like the sound just...my body’s not used to the sound. But no, don’t silence the clocks. I don’t want to silence your clocks. I like both you...and your clocks. And your coffeeee…”

Otto had just sat a much in front of Atty and they took a moment to breathe in the scent.

“So you like BOTH me, my clocks, AND my coffee. Got it,” he said with a chuckle settling his own coffee in between his hands as he leaned sideways on the counter with his hip.

Atticus took in their boyfriend’s form, eyes moving from his bare feet; his long, slender, hairy legs; his boxers; his white shirt with a dipping stretched out neckline; and finally up from the stubble on his neck to his close-trimmed beard, brown eyes, and disheveled curls. A smile of mischief wore in his features as he parried his own alertness to Atticus’ unfocused drowse.

“I’m tired,” Atticus pouted.

Otto had taken in a drink of coffee, hot, and now laughed internally as he swallowed it a bit too fast. But the vision of his small partner curled up in the kitchen chair with their thick brown hair standing on end, perfect pout on their lips under their slight, unkempt mustache, and wide brown eyes peeking from above their oversized frames was too much for him not to be amused.

He coughed, patting his chest as Atticus smirked.

“Serves you right,” they muttered, ducking their nose into their mug and taking a generous sip. Which they almost choked on themselves when they heard a familiar sound.

“HMK! HMUCK!-Aw crap. HUCK! Hmk! Hmk!”

Atticus looked up to the vision of their partner jolting off the counter every half second with one strong hiccup after another. Otto’s shirt bounced with his belly’s movements and his neck indented in flutters as he held his mouth sternly before covering his mouth first with his fist and then moving the hand down to his chest placing it palm down, long fingers across his sternum. He put the coffee behind him and sighed, or at least tried. The exhale was littered with hiccup upon hiccup.

“Y-yep. Se-herp!-serves me hup!-right!” he agreed, amused.

“Are—are you alright?” Atticus asked, finally having found their voice amid their immediate arousal.

“Hm? MK! Y-yeah just HMK!-hiccups. My MK! My bod-MK!-body’s MK!-way of MK!-telling me to s-slow down. HUCK!” he laughed again, holding his head back as the hiccups turned into ‘uck!’ sounds.

But Otto, his own hiccups ringing in his ears and swallowing as his throat continued to contract, noticed Atticus not amused but...well he couldn’t place the emotion on their face. Confused? Concerned? Shocked?

He grabbed his coffee and sat down across from them. Was this some fear they hadn’t expressed? Did they have a fear of hiccups? But there was something else in their face, something familiar. It wasn’t fear.

Otto’s head tucked in as he continued to suppress his hiccups and Atticus was overwhelmed. They were tingling, pulsating, hardening in a place that was not supposed to do any of that sitting at a kitchen table and drinking coffee with your boyfriend while he innocuously caught a bout of hiccups for the first time that they’d ever seen.

“H-hey. I’m HMK okay! Th-they HUP!-usually don’t MK!-last too long-mk!MK!” Otto tried to cajole.

“They don’t hurt?” Atticus asked breathlessly.

“Nope-HUP!” Otto answered, shaking his head and then laughing at the unexpectedness of the hiccup.

“Kinda...they came out of nowhere,” Atticus said, struggling to focus through the sensations their body was having.

“C-up!-coffee. HMP! I th-think when HULP!-when I drink it HMK!-too fast hmp!-and-mp!-and it’s too hot. PlUKus that di-dinner HULP l-last HUCK night MP!-was a little spicy. MK! L-like I sMP!said, probably huck!-probably did it to MK!-myself!” Otto said. He seemed utterly unbothered by the hiccups. Except perhaps he was a little annoyed that they interrupted him and that he had to repeat himself.

God was that hot, thought Atticus. “Fuck,” they said out loud. And it took them a second to realize they had said it out loud, only knowing because of Otto’s face in response.

“I...shiiiit,” Atticus supplemented, unhelpfully.

“W-we all do! HUP!” Otto joked then straightened his face. “List-en. If thhip!this is bothering MK!-you I MP! to-totally understand. HMK!”

“No!” Atticus said too loudly and Otto’s eyes widened comically. “I mean...crap. Heck. Shoot.”

“Did we-HEEP!-uh run out of-mk!-of adult HUP!-cusses?”

Atticus took a deep drink of coffee as if it were some sort of calming elixir and not something that would simply ramp their anxiety through the roof even more.

“Do you remember when...when we were talking about fetishes that one day?” Atty finally said.

Atticus watched and savored Otto’s chest jumping and his head retracting as his suppressed hiccups continued to thump through his body as he nodded. If this was going to be the end of their relationship Atticus might as well capture these final moments.

“And we said, unless it came up, we didn’t need to talk about it with each other because we weren’t ready to discuss it yet?”

Otto’s brow furrowed and nodded again. His hand had landed on his chest once more rubbing his clavicle bone absently. Atticus licked their lips, a subconscious act but once they realized they did it they felt their anxiety ratchet all the more.

“Well...mine just came up,” they finished with a worried look and a tightening of their thighs against each other to somehow soothe the thrums of arousal when their fingers weren’t allowed.

It took Otto a bemused second of thought to catch up. He cocked his head and then awareness bubbled in his eyes. His mouth opened in shock and HUCK-AH! The loudest one, yet. A hand went over his mouth and Atticus wasn’t sure if it was to stop more hiccups or in disbelief.

“Hicc-HUP-hiccups?” Otto asked.

Atticus nodded.

Otto looked to the side putting on a face Atty was well familiar with. It was a face of consideration and thoughtfulness. It was his ‘okay, what now?’ face. As he did so a series of HILP-hilp-hlmk sounds hit him in rapid succession. Otto’s eyebrows raised but he otherwise didn’t seem affected, just gave his chest a good pat in mild acknowledgment.

“What-HUP!-what d-do you HMP!-wanna do? HMP!HMP!” Otto asked.

Gawd, his hiccups came so fast sometimes. Series of them back to back. What could they do?

“Honestly? I want to lay out on the couch and masturbate!” Atticus blurted. “I just-I just wanna listen to your hiccups and watch your body and rub myself to oblivion.”

“Yeah? HUCK!”

Atticus nodded. This was it. This was the last conversation they’d ever have. Otto would recoil and laugh and kick them out of his house. Their nasty little self would be homeless and horny and destroyed. Atticus could do catastrophizing like a pro.

“Ok-o-HMK!-okay!” Otto struggled to say at last. He was excited and could feel the speed of his hiccups answering that by increasing.

“Okay?” Atticus asked, baffled.

“Y-yeah. I’ll-HMP!-I’ll s-sit MP!-on the-mk!-my work ch-hip!-chair and MK!MK!-uh,” Otto took a moment to swallow down a few more hiccups that had quickened before continuing, “and you can HULP!-lay o-on hmk!-the couch!”

“Oh. Okay!” Atticus said. “They’re...gawd, they’re so fast!”

“I’m ex-excited. Hmk!-uh. Do you HUCK!-d’you l-like them wh-hmk!HMK!-uh-en they’re fmp!fast?”

Otto had already gotten up and started toward the living room and Atticus had followed, gasping at the sensation of clothes rubbing against them in this state.

“Yeah,” they said, taking a deep breath and letting it out as they sat on the couch with Otto across from them. He wheeled his work chair from his bench and positioned himself close. “But are you okay? With them that fast?”

“Th-they womp!-won’t la-st mhmp!-much l-HUCK!-longer. Hmp!mp!HUCK-AH! They nhmp!-never d-do! HUCK!” he said. His body relaxing into the back of the chair made his stomach all the more prominent as the hiccups pushed it against his shirt in quick succession again and again.

There was as desperateness in Otto that Atticus didn’t quite know how to explain but they could barely focus on that with their own arousal fuzzing up their brain.

“HMK!MP! T-tell me wh-hmpk!-mm,” Otto had snorted that hiccup and that had sent Atticus’ hand right into their pants. Otto’s breath hitched with more than hiccups at the action. He fought on to complete his sentence. “Whhuck!-what you hmp!-want me-HUP!-to d-do!”

“Take off your shirt?” Atticus asked. They desperately wanted to see Otto’s body. They wanted to see it concave and jump. To Atticus’ delight Otto complied. And before this moment they hadn’t even noticed that Otto was as erect as Atticus, but of course his was way more obvious.

Otto’s broad chest and long torso jerked as he removed his shirt. And as the tall man sat relaxed in his chair, the small roll created by the waistline of his shorts jumped in and out with each hiccup. His ribs expanded simultaneous to his stomach’s jerking. His head was jolted back and the hollow above his clavicle sucked in along with the hollows around the chords of his neck. In the moments where his hiccups piled onto each other quickly his stomach jiggled with the softness it carried and his hand wandered to it instinctively to offer comfort.

The sounds, well, Atty could just get off on the sounds. How Otto attempted to suppress his hiccups was incredibly sexy. But his hiccups would not be tamed. He gulped in at times. Sometimes they went through his nose, it seemed. There was little control from a man who otherwise seemed to need so much control in his life. And, yet, they were but a mild inconvenience. An annoying but innocuous occurrence.

Atticus had ground their fingers into their clit in desperation. They sort of wished they had some kind of lube, but quickly realized their moistness was efficient. They gasped as their contractions rolled in tune with Otto’s hiccups.

“At-uck! At-HIC,” Otto tried and swallowed, breathing deeply to no avail. “Atty, c-can HUP I tHUCK!ouch mhup!-mysHILP!self?”

“Yes!” Atticus gasped.

Atticus’ moans, whines, and gasps married with the cacophony of noises Otto made.

“HULP!HUCK-AH-Uhh-HACK!-Mmm-mk!MK!MK!MMK!-UhhHUP!MP!-uhHMP!MK-uh. Ah HUP! Uh. HUCK’M. Mmmm-mp! Mmm,” Otto said, hiccups slowing down as his orgasm hit just after Atty’s. His head lolled on the chair to watch the small person panting on his couch and then taking deep breaths as they opened their eyes and locked with his.

“So that happened,” Atticus finally said tiredly.

“It sure did-hup!” Otto replied. One of his last hiccups catching him by surprise and he patted his chest with the hand that hadn’t been occupied otherwise. “Wow…”

“That was okay?” Atty said, suddenly tired.

“That was...really okay,” Otto stressed. Another silent hiccup hit him softly and he let it jolt his body lazily. His hands went up to rub his face as if trying to awaken from the exhaustion of a long exercise session. In a way, he was.

“You aren’t...weirded out?” Atticus asked.

Otto shook his head ‘no’.

“I mean…” he said, and paused trying to find the words he was looking for by forming them from his brain to his hands. He took a breath and swallowed the last of his hiccups, a squelched thing that willfully submitted to his suppression. “Uh, it never occurred to me, really? It’s not really something I...considered. But I’m not—I don’t think it’s weird. It’s just, it was something I hadn’t really heard of before now.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“No,” he said to them resolutely, “it absolutely doesn’t bother me. I honestly don’t mind hiccups. I mean, I can’t exactly work on a delicate clock movement with a case of hiccups like that but...I dunno...seems like some people get upset by them and they’ve never really caused me any discomfort, y’know?” He shrugged.

They both desperately needed to shower but they were also both very tired so they sort of spaced out for a little, Atticus taking in what Otto had told them.

“I thought...I thought you would leave me if I told you. About my fetish. About what I liked. Or make fun of me. That I would have to leave because you’d...tease me about it. Or...any other number of ways my brain said you wouldn’t react well,” Atticus admitted.

Otto took a while to process THAT. He swiveled in his chair scratching absently at his chest before answering.

“I’m sorry that you were afraid of that. I know—I mean at least I don’t think you would really believe I would break up with you because of this. I know it’s just...when you’re ashamed of something it’s kinda hard to believe anyone would be okay with that part of you. Right? But it’s honestly okay! Our relationship doesn’t revolve around sex, thank GOD. I’ve been in that kind of relationship. It’s not where I want to be anytime again. And I would NEVER make fun of you for having a fetish. Or antagonize you. I know you would treat me the same, I think,” he said.

“I would. And I know. My brain is pretty mean about it,” Atticus said.

“Oh, I’m familiar with mean brains.”

After another moment of reflection, Atticus had slouched down into the couch and was taking in the sun through the cracks in the shades and Otto was nibbling the edges of his fingers as he often did in moments of focus, Otto spoke again.

“I could...probably make myself hiccup again, actually. I mean, I know kind of how to get them to come on. So...if you ever--” Otto started.

“No. No no,” Atticus interrupted. And then they shared why that would make them feel so very uncomfortable. Atticus liked Otto. They didn’t need him to hiccup on command to like him. They didn’t need to be performed at. They didn’t need to be teased. If hiccups came, then fine. But they were always going to love Otto for who Otto was.

Atticus could get a hiccup fix if they needed. The internet existed. They’d done it before. Sure, it was special if it was their partner, but that didn’t make them feel comfortable. And what if Otto induced in ways that actually hurt him? What if Otto developed some sort of acid reflux issue or nerve issue or became resentful or tired? No, Atty definitely didn’t want Otto to make himself hiccup for them. They cared about him too much.

“Okay, okay,” Otto said, smiling. He smiled because 1, Atticus expressed so much love in their explanation that it made him feel truly cared about for who he was and 2, because getting Atticus worked up was extremely adorable. Though he’d rarely tell them that. Unless...he wanted to get them worked up again. “Well, just know that I do get them sometimes. It’s weird that you haven’t seen them until now. Well, I guess you were never up early enough for peak hiccup times. Heh.”

“Damn, I guess I’m going to have to become an early bird,” Atticus said, sighing dramatically.

“Well, maybe not. Sometimes I get these day-long hiccup bouts. You haven’t seen those because I figure no one wants to hang out with someone who’s hiccuping all day so I don’t make plans. It’s not...it’s like every few months or so. When I still drank...oof. Another reason to stop drinking. Those were not fun, though. I was not fun. Nothing was fun in those days. Anyway, if I do get the hiccups I’ll share them with you because, Atty, man, that was HOT. You on that couch...damn...” he said.

“Yeah?” Atticus said with a grin.

“Yeaaah. Actually. That is...sorta...my fetish?” Otto said and then got very uncharacteristically quiet. He pulled both of his hands up to his mouth and rested his chin on them. His eyes went from wild excitement to sedate and not really looking at his partner.

“Wait,” Atticus said, not following, “what is?”

“Mmmm,” Otto said, making the sound in the back of his throat and pulling his head back to loll against his chair. “I...only really get aroused when I watch someone else arousing themselves first…”

His eyes slid to Atty sheepishly.

“Oh. Well...fuck...that’s fortunate!” they exclaimed.

Otto burst out laughing, eyes closing as his body rolled with it. Atticus joined him after a second.

“Dude, seriously!” Atticus said, “I can definitely do that for you when you want. Shit!”

“Oh, man! You don’t think that’s weird?” Otto said, rubbing his eyes.

“I just jerked off to you hiccuping in a chair in front of me, dude! I have absolutely no right to judge what’s weird to be aroused by. Come back to me when YOU’VE been aroused by someone else’s diaphragm!”

Otto laughed again.

“Okay, okay. So we are at least not weird to each other. Thank god. Oh man. I need a shower,” he said.

“Same,” Atticus agreed.

What followed was the most hilarious attempt at sharing a shower ever. Their height difference had never been made so obvious to each other as when one of them tried to somehow rinse off effectively without blocking or sending soapy runoff to the other. It certainly didn’t help that, for Atticus, this was the first shower they’d ever shared as an adult.

And then Otto fixed one of the biggest breakfasts he’d ever made for two people.

Finding someone who compliments you is priceless. They truly had something special.

#hiccups kink #hiccup kink #hiccups #hic fic #hicfic #otto and atticus #kink fic

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muu-kun · 1 year

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Mental Health Masterpost Blurb: Counting / Number Association Defined Through Prior Compulsive Behaviors

Being that it has been a hot minute since a deep dive headcanon has been posted, I figured it was about time I got to discussing some of what I've been meaning to for some time. This go around will be on the topics above. Which, as with prior posts regarding mental health, the disclaimer that icky subjects such as abuse and assault are likely to be mentioned at some point below. In addition to such a warning, I also want to remind the masses that I am not an expert on this subject as I myself do Not have OCD. Therefore if you ever see something worth correcting, please bring it to my attention. I'd genuinely appreciate being able to fix something than let it misinformation fester longer than at all necessary.

How is a compulsive behavior defined and in what context is counting one of them?

Compulsive behaviors include thoughts, urges, and/or behaviors that persist despite their negative impact over health, jobs, or relationships. Compulsions as is specifically, however, are repetitive behaviors or thoughts that a person uses with the intention of neutralizing, counteracting, or making their obsessions go away. Something to keep in mind is that, in most cases, individuals with OCD feel driven to engage in compulsive behavior and would rather not have to do these time-consuming and often torturous acts. Frankly, people with OCD perform compulsions because they believe these rituals are necessary to prevent negative consequences and/or to escape or reduce anxiety or the presence of obsessions.

Of the many compulsions seen throughout the various sections withing Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, one that had prior been depicted by Muu in his adolescence before trailing off in early adulthood was that of assigning numbers to two specific activities: speaking and shouting for help.

For speaking, the expectation was to limit his phrases to two word increments to greatly reduce the likelihood of harm through chatting his way into revealing that he was annoying, or weird on top of already carrying the label of dunce by his peers. Proper nouns were never included in his two word limitations for reasons of their own, but to add more logic in the uniqueness of how he carried himself in his youth is beyond him as he has yet to discover why two became the be all instead of none, one, or even three.

Especially considering the fact three became the chosen criteria for another habit in particular; however, that one he can explain quite easily as it was an act he picked up from the assurance of an male friend who'd sworn to him as a teenager that all he'd have needed to do in times of danger is call out their name three times, and they'd save him. It never would prove true, yet the amount of times he has tried it just in case-- as well as go on to list the names of others close to him in case they instead had a superpower making them capable of hearing him miles away-- is entirely immeasurable. Even a decade later, he'd probably give it a try for old times sake just in case his umpteenth time trying was just the right one he needed to make after all.

Examples for both behaviors is included below.

Common phrases to be heard when he used to only speak in two word increments, or ones that would be used just as is since he's often strongly contemplated going back to such a pattern of communication for some time now:

"Play with Muu-kun?"

"You carry Muu-kun?"

"Making mad!!"

"So hungry.."

Whereas his rule of three is mainly as follows for what order he calls out specific names is can be most comparable to this:

Veena, the person go tell him of such a habit needing to be done in the first place.

His older brother, Matthew. The first person to really be his protector in life, so of course he must notably wants his comforting before someone else's should he have a choice.

Whoever is his romantic partner at any given time usually lands at this mark.

His primary best friend

Following close companions

Friends of his, but more specifically those with either a legitimate age difference over him, or instead are significantly wise for their age by being thought of as caretakers by himself truly

General acquaintances that are actively present in his life

Past friends and acquaintances that he misses. They may not have a current space in their life for him to reside in, and yet he still beckons their name out into the universe just in case doing so is the remedy for not only being rescued by them in the moment, but also to have them around as his friend from there on out. There are sadly a lot of names placed upon this section of the list. Every one of which he misses so much no matter how many days mark their separation.

#; ♡ ; mental health masterpost #Something muu and myself continue to back and forth on is whether or not he will go back to speaking two words at a time #And I think honestly after giving his long winded explanation of the app he is aiming to make for himself to calix #he is in fact making the decision to give up speaking in a traditional manner and instead going back to what he feels more comfortable with #and it is mainly because he is just so scared and really hurt by the fact that not only does he not really have a support group #of friends like he wished he did because he trusts no one to stay after those who've already left having done so #and that of those he still has and including romantic partners over these couple years #only neff has truly sat down with him and provided space for him to unpack in #so at this point he's basically residing to the possibility maybe being heard less will make him worth at least being seen by more people #and he might then feel like he fits in and is popular in that route

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

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Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again.

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do.

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck.

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation.

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours.

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals.

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor.

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that.

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath.

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like.

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day.

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave.

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha

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wowbright · 3 years

Text

Fic: Curb Your Enthusiasm

Tan Hands and Tan Lines Sophisticated Word Challenge 2021: quixotic

Words: ~ 1350 words

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Kurt’s new companion needs to stop flirting with investigators.

I’m belatedly going through the prompts for The Tan Hands and Tan Lines Summer Event 2021 to flesh out my Mormon!Klaine universe. This one takes place in the first week of their mission, directly after Flirting with Danger.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: ‘Süsse’ means ‘sweetie.’ If you have any questions or typo corrections, feel free to use my ask box!

-------

Other than their conversation with Harmonie and Dolcezza, their afternoon on campus was uneventful. Only two students had been interested in taking the religion survey, and they both turned out to be atheists. The likelihood of anyone showing up to their English group seemed slim. They’d given out a lot of flyers, but Kurt noticed almost as many in the recycling bins as they left campus.

Maybe Harmonie and Dolcezza would show up—they’d ended up touching on some important points despite the flirting.

Yes, Dolcezza continued commenting on Elder Anderson’s looks and his handsome brown eyes and asking him if he was sure he didn’t have relatives from southern Italy, and when he said the closest his ancestry brought him to Italy was Portugal, Dolcezza granted that Portuguese had an even more romantic cadence than Italian.

Even worse, Elder Anderson encouraged all this with his batting eyelashes, his aw shucks facial expressions, and his ridiculous statement that it was hard to imagine any language sounding more romantic than Italian.

But Kurt had managed to wedge in a bit about the plan of salvation during the pauses in Elder Anderson’s flirting with Dolcezza. Harmonie, apparently also sick of the flirting, hooked onto what Kurt offered and asked probing questions. But Kurt hadn’t been able to get either girl to commit to coming to the English group, and they had refused the number of the sister missionaries when Kurt offered it.

“I’ll tell you what,” Dolcezza had said. “If Elder Anderson promises to learn some Portuguese from me, I’ll learn some English from you.”

“That would be fun!” Elder Anderson grinned like a kid who had just been offered to the entire contents of a Toys "R" Us store. Why hadn’t Elder Thompson warned Kurt that his new companion was such an incorrigible flirt?

“Unfortunately, we have to focus on our German,” Kurt said. “But that’s a kind offer.”

“What's the harm in learning a little Portuguese?” Elder Anderson asked later as they made their way from campus to a nearby neighborhood to fill up the rest of the afternoon with tracting.

“Don’t play dumb, elder.”

Elder Anderson looked genuinely offended. “I'm not playing dumb. I honestly don't get it. Elder Thompson and I used to trade lessons all the time. If someone only wanted to hear our message if we'd hear about their church or their weird mystical yoga group, then we'd listen. If the only way to get Dolcezza to our English group is to study a little Portuguese, then why not? When she gets to our group, she might show an interest in the gospel.”

“You really can't see why that would be a problem?”

Elder Anderson, looking full-on bewildered, shook his head.

“Huh. That blinded by her hotness, huh?”

Elder Anderson stopped in his tracks. “Her what?”

“I may be gay, Elder Anderson, but I can still tell a pretty girl when I see one. And both of them were pretty. I mean, I thought Harmonie was prettier, but I guess I just prefer darker coloring and eyebrows that are heavy enough to make a statement—” Kurt realized as he was saying this how attractively dark and expressive Elder Anderson’s eyebrows were, furrowing like two fat caterpillars above his bewildered eyes—ugh, that really should not be attractive—and stopped pursuing that tack. “I’m just saying, ‘If you don't look once, you're not a man. If you look twice, you're not a missionary.’”

“Wow,” Elder Anderson said quietly, his eyes going wide. “I can't believe you just said that. That saying is so homophobic.”

“No, it doesn’t. I haven’t had a single issue with untoward thoughts about women since I came on my mission, and I’m still a man.”

This straight kid thought he could tell Kurt what was homophobic? Uh-uh. It didn't matter how oddly kind and accepting Kurt's new companion was, or that Kurt strongly suspected Elder Anderson truly was less homophobic than Kurt himself. Elder Anderson didn't have to deal with the day to day struggle of having feelings that he couldn't act on. The discrepancy between what Kurt was allowed to feel and what we he was allowed to do made him resent those feelings sometimes. But that wasn't Kurt's fault. It wasn't a character flaw. It didn't make Elder Anderson better than him.

"It's not homophobic when I'm saying it to you," Kurt said. "You're straight. It applies.”

“No, it doesn’t. I haven’t had a single issue with untoward thoughts about women since I came on my mission, and I’m still a man.”

Hmmm. Such things were supposed to be possible, and even promised. Kurt’s priesthood quorum leader had told him that, if he did his work and focused on God, he wouldn’t have a single gay thought on his mission, ha. But Kurt had never actually met a male missionary who claimed to experience such tranquility. “Well, if you weren't having untoward thoughts, why were you flirting with her so hard?”

“Flirting?” Elder Anderson’s eyebrows rose so high, Kurt almost expected them fly off his forehead like dainty brown birds.

Oh boy. Was Elder Anderson really that oblivious? “You didn’t catch the part where she said Portuguese is the sexiest language in the world?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Or the part where she complimented your eyes and asked you to call her ‘Süsse’ instead of Dolcezza? Surely you know ‘Süsse’ is a pet name.”

“Yeah, but … it’s also a literal translation of ‘Dolcezza.’ She was just being polite. In case we had trouble with pronouncing her name in Italian.”

“No, Elder Anderson. She was flirting with you. She wanted you to speak Portuguese because she thinks it sounds sexy. Like she thinks you’re sexy.”

Elder Anderson wrinkled his nose. He looked almost … disgusted? “No. I’m not— That was just— Oh.” His cheeks flushed like ripe peaches. He scratched the back of his neck. He looked down at the ground. “I thought …” He traced an invisible line on the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe. “I did think they were both being a little flirty at first, but then the conversation moved to more neutral topics and I thought … I thought we were just having a friendly conversation?”

Kurt replayed the interaction in his mind. Elder Anderson had shown enthusiasm, but he was always enthusiastic, wasn't he? This was a man who got excited about rain. Who let out a pornographic moan the first time he tried a Bavarian pretzel with butter and said it was the best thing he’s ever tasted—until the next day, when he tried a Schneeball pastry and said that was the best thing. Who, after his first sacrament meeting in Ingolstadt, described virtually every single person he'd met there as his “favorite,” “the best,” “delightful,” or “such a wonderful soul” without the faintest hint of irony or flattery.

Elder Anderson hadn’t stood too close to Dolcezza, or tried to touch her, or complimented her looks or wit or hat. He’d just been … kind.

If Elder Anderson’s kindness was a form of flirtation, then he had flirted way more with Kurt than with Dolcezza. And obviously, he’d never flirted with Kurt. So—

“You were having a friendly conversation, apparently. Dolcezza would like to be more than friends.” Kurt thought about adding that if maybe Elder Anderson could rein his enthusiasm in when talking to investigators, they might not flirt with him so readily.

But that seemed like a quixotic request. Elder Anderson couldn’t stop being Elder Anderson any more than Kurt could stop being Kurt. And why should he? He was lovely, just as he was. It wouldn’t be right to hide his light under a bushel.

“That’s so … embarrassing,” Elder Anderson said. As if he might be able to escape the embarrassment, he resumed walking.

“Embarrassing? That she likes you? That must happen a lot, though.”

Elder Anderson pouted. “I don’t know. I've never been too good at reading girls. Or—young women, in this case.” He took a few more paces forward, Kurt tagging along beside him. “It still weirds me out sometimes that they think of me that way. But I guess some good could come of it. Maybe even without me learning Portuguese, she'll decide to show up to the English group, anyway.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to recruit people with our good looks.”

“You think I have good looks?”

Kurt changed the subject. “There are a couple of inactive members in this neighborhood. The friendly kind, not the hide-behind-the-couch-when-you-knock kind. You want to try them first? Introduce you as the new missionary?”

Elder Anderson clasped his hands together. “You know I love meeting members. Tell me all about them!”

Kurt smiled. Elder Anderson had faults, no doubt, but his enthusiasm wasn’t one of them. It might just be his greatest virtue.

#mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #spaceorphan's sophisticated challenge: quixotic #klaine fic #thatl #my thatl

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veliseraptor · 3 years

Note

So this is in NO WAY PRESSURING, get to this whenever you're bored and have nothing better to do, but I (have still not watched The Untamed) would love to hear any disorganized rambles around your fic 'Punitive Measures', like your thoughts while writing it, how you view Xue Yang's fight/flight/freeze instinct, and/or where you would take the plot if you ever came back to it (again, not pressuring, I'm not asking for a sequel, I'm asking for director's commentary. Also I know the mysterious flute was implying Wei Wuxian, I know that much and not much more.) It's a really fun, quick fic that I enjoy reading through while I keep circling around your longer, more intimidating stories. I aspire to write like you.

oh boy, well, I don't know that I ever have nothing to do but here I am answering this ask anyway, because I like talking about my fic even if I get self-conscious about it.

this entire fic falls solidly into the genre of fic I write that is legitimately just “I’m gonna fuck up this character I love because it’ll be fun and I love to do that” and then just kinda...went for it. actually harder than I was initially planning! my vague sense of what I was going to do with this fic didn’t have Xue Yang down an eye at the end of it.

but when inspiration strikes, what’s a girl to do, etc.

I actually thought recently about writing a sequel to this fic (or, well, continuing into the AU it started, more like) because the concept of Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang being bloodthirsty vengeance brethren is a very good one for me, personally, and at the point their paths would be intersecting in this AU a more plausible one than it would be at pretty much any other time (I would argue, at least in CQLverse). And that’s where I think this would be going. Because Xue Yang would see Wei Wuxian, in his bloodiest frame of mind, powered up with a gorgeous flute of bad vibes and go “fuck yes” even if he wasn’t in a place where he really needed the help.

The question I had was whether Wei Wuxian would be interested in accepting company, and I feel like Xue Yang on that front could be convincing. And the way that the latter would both enable and egg on all the former’s darkest fantasies and impulses...I’m just saying, Wen Chao and everyone he has ever known is in for a very bad time, possibly even worse than they already were.

I invite you to picture in this AU the part where Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji find not just darker and edgier Wei Wuxian at the end of their scavenger hunt but darker and edgier Wei Wuxian with a friend. A familiar friend! Now down an eye and practically picking his teeth with Wen Chao’s finger bones. :D

since you asked for disorganized rambling I went back to reread and I’ll give you some director’s commentary on a few things

And he’d kind of hoped Wen Ruohan would be too busy figuring out how to deal with his brewing war to dedicate much attention to looking for one absent retainer. And even if he did, Xue Yang had sort of figured that finding him would fall to Wen Chao, who’d probably struggle to find his own ass with two hands.

kicking off this director’s commentary with Xue Yang’s brutal assessment of the competency of Wen Chao.

tbh one of my favorite things about CQL’s involving Xue Yang in the whole Sunshot storyline, despite the merry hell it plays with timeline stuff later, is how obviously little regard Xue Yang has for the Wens, even when they’re at the height of their power. He shows Wen Ruohan himself very little respect, and I can’t imagine anyone else getting more (except maybe Wen Qing, because Wen Qing is competent and if nothing else Xue Yang can respect competency).

and he just like. ditches them. walks out! promises to deliver very powerful magical artifact, and then gets what he wants and is like “smell ya later, peace” and they never catch him.

that’s just a kind of gutsiness and casual disregard for very powerful people that I really both love and respect about Xue Yang. and also that he has in common with Xiao Xingchen, tbh. and Song Lan (though him I think to a slightly lesser degree, partly because he has a little more tact and sense of societal norms as something relevant to be thinking about)! they can all vibe on that.

They took Jiangzai. Well. One of the Wen disciples took Jiangzai in the stomach and Xue Yang didn’t get it back.

this isn’t an important line or anything. I just like it a lot.

Wen Chao gestured again and he went down in a hail of fists and feet. Xue Yang tucked his chin down to protect his throat, curled his hands into his chest, and drew up his knees to guard his stomach.

He knew how this worked. Sure, it’d been a while since someone had beat him like this, but the lessons stuck. It was almost boring, really. If Wen Chao was going to play torture games then he could at least do Xue Yang the favor of trying to be creative.

He checked out the part of his brain that registered pain as anything other than a thing that was happening and focused instead on opportunities. Weaknesses in his assailants. Escape routes. Getting away would be the first thing. Nice if he could take a piece of Wen Chao with him on the way out - arm, or maybe even a head - but the priority was freedom and survival.

okay, this I feel like cuts into some of what you were talking about regarding Xue Yang’s fight/flight instinct, and also a lot of what if, I was feeling pretentious, I feel like this fic is digging into on a level under “what if I just tortured Xue Yang a whole bunch,” which is something about the relationship Xue Yang has to (a) pain and (b) his own body. Specifically, the relative indifference he has toward both. Or...not indifference, exactly, because it’s not like he’s enjoying himself, it still hurts. It’s just...expected.

unremarkable.

which is a lot of what I was trying to convey with Xue Yang’s narration during the whole torture sequence, with the commentary on methodology and how things are mundane or boring, because the suffering itself is mundane! as far as Xue Yang is concerned that’s exactly what suffering is! other peoples’, for sure, which is part of why it doesn’t matter, but also his own.

the world hurts and that’s just how it is and you learn how to cope with that. pain as...a thing that [is] happening.

I also, since you mentioned the fight/flight instinct, think a lot about how Xue Yang is, while he’s very proud and very stubborn, absolutely not someone to pick fights (in general) that he knows he can’t win. Xue Yang will almost always be on the side of “run and come back another day” over “stand and fight when all is lost.” survival, first and foremost.

which feeds into the weird paradox that I kind of hint toward at the end of this fic about Xue Yang as someone who has a definite death drive, who is profoundly obsessed with his own death in a lot of ways, and simultaneously is attached to staying alive above pretty much all else.

“Snap and snarl all you want,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere. And the only part of you I need intact is your tongue, so you can tell me where you hid the Yin Metal you promised. Everything else is optional.”

A prickle of fear rolled down Xue Yang’s spine and he flicked it away, baring his teeth.

I actually do think that, even before they get around to hand-specific trauma, permanent mutilation is one of those things that still scares Xue Yang. which is a short list! there isn’t much that actually either gets to or scares him, but I think the prospect of (further) mutilation does, because I think Xue Yang is very...acutely aware of the fact that his physical capability is a major factor in what has kept him alive and what, in all likelihood, is going to keep him alive moving forward. anything that threatens that capability, that limits him in terms of strength or mobility or otherwise has a disabling effect, is consequently going to be a short road to death, and Xue Yang would much rather die painfully fighting than die as a consequence of not being able to take care of himself.

for Xue Yang, the idea of a return to the kind of helplessness that is tied to his trauma is one of the worst possible prospects to contemplate. in my head this is exacerbated further by the fact that I figure Xue Yang didn’t get much if any medical care post hand incident, meaning that the recovery period was absolutely nightmarish and a whole stretch of time beyond the event itself where Xue Yang was struggling to survive because he’d been damaged.

in some ways I think that period of time probably did more to shape Xue Yang than the moment itself.

Wen Chao grabbed one of the branding irons from a disciple’s belt and pressed it to his stomach. That hurt. More. He clamped his back teeth together so he didn’t make any sound, absorbed the burn, owned it. His. You only hurt if you were alive. And anything you survived made you stronger.

Not that this was actually going to make him stronger. It was probably just going to make him dead. But then again, the worse this went the more resentment he’d have built up. He could use that. Would.

Dead didn’t have to mean finished.

obviously this is pulled almost direct from what Wei Wuxian himself says to Wen Chao. deliberate echoes based on character parallels! we love those.

and yeah, again here about Xue Yang and his relationship to pain, but in a less mundane way this time where it’s about pain as a tool, pain as something he can use. which is another thing about coping, I think - when pain and suffering are a regular part of your life, one way to deal with that can be to convert it into having some kind of purpose or benefit.

which in this case it definitely can. Xue Yang is definitely someone who, I think, has thought a lot about trying to arrange it so he becomes a ghost after he dies. or at least has thought a lot about what he’d do after dying to the person who killed him.

and when you’re a necromancer by trade death really isn’t the end of the line anymore, just the start of a something new. Xue Yang’s relationship to life itself: about as jacked up as his relationships in general.

He felt the snap of bone in his teeth. Pain shooting up the side of his hand, all the way to his wrist, and Xue Yang couldn’t keep himself still enough not to try to wrench himself away. He swallowed his scream and turned it into a laugh. It was funny, wasn’t it? Funny, that he was back here, again. It wasn’t as bad, though. He knew how to take pain, how to breathe it in, make it part of himself, later turn it outwards magnified tenfold. They were old friends. Practically lovers.

two things here:

1. the thread throughout this fic of Xue Yang making things funny so he can deal with them, here brought to you by reliving trauma! because it’s funny! right? laugh about it! just fucking hilarious.

I have a thing about characters basically deciding for themselves to make very unfunny situations funny because it makes them less awful.

2. and look, now he can deal with it better this time! he’s Learned. :) :) :)

Everything splintered. Splintered like bones under a wheel, and first thing he tried to struggle to get away but that just hurt worse and then old old old instincts kicked in and he went still, limp, dead.

“Did he faint?”

Someone nudged him with their foot. One part of him roared to grab that foot and rip it off along with the leg it was attached to. Immediately the same thing that’d made him play dead told him to wait.

at an end point where fighting is impossible and running is also impossible, the only thing left to do is play dead and wait it out. this is very much, in my head, a reversion to a tactic Xue Yang hasn’t used in a very long time and does not want to be using now, because it is absolutely the recourse of the extraordinarily helpless with no way out.

which he has been! and is now, but he really really really doesn’t want to be. Xue Yang has built his life around not being that, ever again.

but here it’s not a move he makes planning to turn it around the way he does, not at first. he gets there, but when he first does it I think it is literally just instinct that goes enough is enough and shuts down.

Wen Chao, Wen Chao, Xue Yang thought. My body’s going to give out before I do.

someone should remind me at some point maybe (or not) to write something coherent about my Xue Yang vs. his own body thoughts. specifically the way that, while Xue Yang is very physical and very grounded, I think he has a somewhat antagonistic relationship with his own body, actually. not completely! he definitely respects what it can do for him! but I think he also treats it a little as a slightly separate entity that’s capable of betraying him rather than as a fully integrated part of himself.

not always! but it’s a little bit there. this idea that sometimes his body, and its capacity to be hurt or damaged, is a weakness that he’d like to be able to forgo entirely, if only it wouldn’t mean losing all the good things about having a body. and that’s present here in this line, for me, where he thinks about himself and his body as slightly separate, and his body as something weaker than its Xue Yang core.

#hope that was enough rambling for you anon jesus christ #confessions of a frustrated writer #i don't even know what to tag this #anonymous #conversating

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 27

First

~~~

She bit down on the inside of her cheek as she stared at the blank message box.

“You know, most of the time people don’t apologize over text,” said Jason.

“I know that!” She muttered irritably. She turned off her phone and left it to rest on her stomach. “But what do I say?”

“Probably something like ‘Can we talk?’“ He offered.

“That kinda thing usually causes anxiety.”

He grinned. “Maybe in relationships.”

“And maybe in friendships,” Marinette countered.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re stalling.”

“Shut up!” She sighed and closed her eyes.

Could she just go over to see Chloe an apologize? Would she still be upset with her? And, if she didn’t want to talk, what would Marinette do? If she did want to talk, what would she do? Should she make it up to her? How? Chloe could have pretty much anything she wanted, what could a random girl do for her?

She felt Jason pull her into his side and managed a grin.

“How obvious is it that I’m freaking out?”

“Just a bit,” he teased.

She laughed quietly and picked up her phone again, staring at the message box for a bit before beginning to type.

Definitelyforgottosleep: hey do you wanna do something tomorrow

While Chloe had read the message almost instantly, there was no response for a good minute.

Queenbee: Sure where

Ah. She hadn’t genuinely thought she’d get this far. She closed her eyes. What did Chloe like? Shopping? She seemed the type who’d like shopping. But did she?

Definitelyforgottosleep: shopping

Queenbee: Sounds good

She breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes. Then, she glanced at Jason.

Definitelyforgottosleep: can i bring someone

Queenbee: Sure I don’t care

She opened her mouth --.

“Nope. Not going.”

She groaned. “Why not?”

“Because I think this is something you should do yourself,” he said simply.

Marinette closed her eyes for a minute. “Where’s Dick? I could probably guilt him into coming.”

Jason must have agreed, because he sent her a glare. “I’m not taking you back to his room.”

“I’ll find him myself if I have to.”

He scoffed. “You’d get lost so quick.”

She batted her eyelashes. “That’s why I wanted you to take me. You wouldn’t let your little sister get lost, would you?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh, so now you pull the ‘little sister’ card?”

She only gave him a cheeky grin in return.

And, so, the next day she and Dick found themselves waiting outside the mall. She smiled at all the Halloween decorations, reaching out to poke a giant inflatable ghost.

“Do you not have Halloween in France?”

“No, we do, it’s just not as big a deal.” She grinned. “Do you guys really have Halloween in Gotham? You’d think that you’d avoid letting more people run around in masks.”

He gave a small shrug. “Halloween is Halloween, it’d probably happen even if someone tried to ban it. The bats just end up working a lot harder that night.”

She nodded her understanding. Her eyes slipped past him to where she spotted Chloe approaching, who looked about as anxious as she felt.

“Heeeeey,” she said awkwardly.

She glanced at back at Dick and swore in French when she realized he had retreated back a few steps. She shot him a glare as he made a small motion with his hands as if to say ‘go on and say it’.

Marinette took a deep breath and turned back to the girl.

“I’m sorry about treating you so horribly recently. You’ve been extremely nice to me and I’ve only been rude in return.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m not a great person, I have my issues. I’m trying to work through them. It’s not fair of me to take that out on you.”

“That’s why you invited me out?”

She seemed... disappointed.

Marinette hesitated. “Partially. I really did want to apologize, but I realized I kinda judged you without really knowing anything about you.”

“I wasn’t a great person to you, either, Marinette.”

“Maybe, but I shouldn’t have kept being rude to you once I realized you’d changed.”

“When did you...?”

A blush flooded her skin. “I... noticed back when you ‘found out’ about me. The old Chloe would have used it for blackmail or something but you didn’t. But I wasn’t ready to change.”

Chloe frowned. “And are you ready now?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I hope so. I’m trying.”

The girl considered this for a bit, her head tipped to the side with an odd expression on her face. After a while she seemed to come to a decision.

“Hi! I’m Chloe Bourgeois. It’s nice to meet you!”

Marinette blinked and glanced behind her, but there wasn’t anyone there. She looked back at Chloe and stared at her outstretched hand. She was talking to her. It was an offer, she realized. A chance at a new start.

She took her hand.

“It’s... it’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Marinette.”

With the agreement obviously made, Dick walked back over.

Marinette stepped back so they could shake hands. “Alright. Chloe, this is Dick and --.”

"Isn’t that a little bit rude?” Said Chloe, her eyes wide.

“Nope, that’s my name,” said Dick.

“I am... so sorry.”

Marinette snickered. “His name is actually Richard. Apparently they shorten that to Dick here.”

Chloe looked incredulous. “Why?”

Dick shrugged, then glanced Chloe up and down with a slight frown forming on his face. “I know you.”

“You do?”

He nodded slightly and scratched the back of his head. “Definitely... so where...?”

Marinette paled a little bit. With all her anxiety about making sure this went well, she’d forgotten that Dick had done research on Ladybug to try and figure out her identity. There was a high likelihood that he knew that Chloe was Queen Bee, and knowing her would be pretty damning.

“Don’t all rich people kind of know each other?” She said, her face stretching into a tense grin.

Dick gave a small nod. “I guess...” He said, though he didn’t really look like he believed it.

She grabbed both of them by their sleeves. “C’moooon. It’s cold out, we can at least do this inside.”

Shopping with rich people was... weird. You have to be careful what you say. She would say a dress in the window was 'kinda cute’ and they would have their credit cards out in seconds.

One time, when Chloe had seen a store with a lot of outfits in a style she liked, Marinette had been forced to physically drag her away from the counter before she attempted to buy the entire store (not from buying all the outfits in the store, but the store itself). Dick had been no help, just calmly watching on and occasionally throwing in a ‘well, the outfits are cute’ whenever Chloe seemed to be calming down.

Of course, then they had to physically drag Marinette out of the fabric store.

“No working,” insisted Chloe.

She huffed. “But I only have, like, three months left! That’s not nearly enough time!”

“Mom said that four months is perfectly enough time for two outfits.”

Marinette rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “And it is, but, uh... I may be doing six.”

Chloe stared at her in horror. Fair enough.

Then, Dick laughed. “No wonder you and Tim get along so well.”

All she could do was smile sheepishly. This smile quickly morphed into terror as Chloe took out of her phone.

“I’m calling my mom. We’re cancelling yours.”

Marinette gasped. “No! You can’t.”

“It’s for your own good, Marinette,” she said, pulling her phone out.

She glanced at Dick for help, but all he did was shrug as if to say ‘she’s got a point’.

“Traitor,” she hissed, before making a mad grab for the phone, only to have it held out of reach. She tugged on Chloe’s arm, throwing her whole weight into it, but there was nothing she could do without compromising her identity in front of Dick.

Huh. So this is what it feels like to be on the other side. Man. This sucks.

After a few seconds of thought, though, she let go. “You can’t keep me from making the outfits. Not really. I’m still going to do them even if you cancel.”

Chloe’s finger hovered over the send button.

“And, when you see the designs, you’ll want to wear them more than whatever you can scrounge up from someone you find within three months. So I’ll make them.”

“You wouldn’t.”

She smiled innocently. “Oh? Try me.”

The two stared each other down, searching for a hint of a bluff, daring them to call it.

Chloe put her phone away with a glare.

Dick grinned. “Definitely see why you and Tim get along so well.”

At Chloe’s request, they walked into a costume store.

Marinette grinned at the new Ladybug outfits, trying to suppress a squeal. Chloe found where she was looking and laughed quietly.

“What?” Asked Dick, following her gaze and narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Crap. She needed an excuse.

“I’m a little bit of a fan,” she ‘admitted’ with a sheepish grin.

Chloe tipped her head to the side as she took in the lie, then smiled and ruffled her hair. “Of course she’d be, her ex-bestfriend was obsessed with Ladybug. She had a lot of good stuff on her blog before... Lila.”

They both shuddered. At least they had a little bit of common ground.

“Why don’t you dress up as her for Halloween?” Asked Dick in a tone that was far too innocent. “You look a bit alike, I think it’d be cool.”

Marinette laughed and shook her head. “No, no. It’s like I said, the French don’t really celebrate Halloween, and I’m not that interested in starting in Gotham of all places.”

He gave a quiet huff of annoyance and they continued walking through. Chloe picked up a Heather McNamara outfit and grinned. “Well, Mlle. Designer, what do you think?”

She tipped her head to the side as she thought, then nodded. “That’d be cute. It matches your usual colors, too. I don’t think I can imagine you in anything other than yellow at this point, anyways.”

Chloe stuck her tongue out at her and she returned it. Because they’re both mature adults.

Marinette grinned and picked up a black wig, dropping it on to Chloe’s head despite the girl’s protests. “I say we take her into Wayne Mansion like this and see how long it takes Bruce to adopt her.”

Dick glanced back and gave a short laugh. “She wouldn’t even make it in the door, are you kidding me?”

Chloe blinked a few times, then gasped. “HOLY SHIT YOU’RE A WAYN --?!”

Both of her companions had clamped their hands over her mouth, but it was far too late for that. Now people were staring, and a few were fumbling for their cameras. It certainly didn’t look good, the eldest Wayne child hanging out with two girls who were barely legal.

Dick tossed a wad of cash at the register to pay for Chloe’s outfit and then turned to Marinette.

“Run?”

“Run,” Marinette agreed.

They each grabbed one of Chloe’s arms and booked it.

~~~

Christ. Three hours of work for like ten words. Kill me pls

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace

#maribat #satisfied #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #timinette #timari

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thetravelerwrites · 4 years

Text

Henry (Amphiptere Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Naga, Amphiptere, Best Friends to Lovers, Demisexual, Graysexual, Sex Worker, Cam Model, Mutual Pining Words: 6104

A gift from @oddacle to her friend/roommate! A woman moves back to her home town after an online friend offers her both a job and a place to stay. She accidentally learns an interesting secret about him that she tries, and fails, to hide. Please reblog and leave feedback! Art by @oddacle!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You stretched at your desk and sighed. “Well, Henry, I should get to bed,” You said. “I’ve got a lot of packing to do tomorrow.”

“Dude, I can’t wait to see you in person finally!” He said over the headset. “I’m so excited you’re coming to work in the store.”

“Me too!” You said. “It’ll be nice to see you in person! And I can’t thank you enough for giving me a job and a place to stay. Working at the grocery store was crushing my soul.”

“I get that,” He told you. “I felt so out of place when I worked construction. I’m so glad I decided to save up to open the flower shop.”

“You and me both,” You said. “Flower arranging is something I love to do. I about fell out of my chair when you said you owned a shop.”

“Two more days and you’ll get to see it yourself,” He said with a laugh. “Go get some sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

“Night, Henry,” You said, smiling to yourself as you logged off. You had met Henry while gaming almost five years ago now, and he had been one of the best friends you’d ever had. At first you just played together, but after about a year, the two of you had exchanged phone numbers, and since then you texted each other constantly and called each other once a week. Despite that, you had never actually seen what he looked like. You didn’t mind; maybe he was body-shy. You could understand that.

When you finally quit the soul-suck of a job in the back of a grocery, he was quick to offer you a place in his shop, in your own home town, no less, as well as one of the apartments above the store. You’d been homesick since you moved away with your mom when you were younger, so the idea of going back had massive appeal. Combined with your dream job and working with your best friend, it was like everything you ever wanted was just falling into place.

That Saturday, you loaded every single thing you owned into a rental truck and headed to Santa Barbara, excited to start a new life and meet your best friend for the first time.

You pulled up to Henry’s Floral Arrangements later that evening just before sundown, driving nearly nine hours straight with only a few breaks for food, gas, and bathroom visits. You pulled out your phone and clicked Henry’s number.

“Hey, are you here?” He asked excitedly.

“Yep!” You said, stepping out of the truck. “I pulled up just now. Are you in the shop?”

“Yeah, I’m coming out! Be right there.” And he hung up.

You giggled at his enthusiasm and walked around the truck just as he came out of the shop, his face as excited as a brand new puppy with a brand new toy, and you stopped in your tracks.

He. Was. Beautiful.

He was a naga, but a rarer breed than average: an amphiptere. He had short, two pronged horns on his head and large wings on his back. His horns were teal, and the feathers of his wings were teal and ocean blue with black accents on the outside and grey on the inside, like the skin of his torso. His snake skin was teal and ocean blue as well, with giant black rings lining his back. His eyes were as golden as his nipple rings. He had lovely tattoos on his arms, neck, and back of waves and geometric shapes. He was lean and muscular, and had short black hair. He wore no clothing, so every inch of his glorious body was on full display.

You stood staring at him, unable to speak, as he slithered up to you. Oh god. This was not a possibility you had entertained. Living next to your best friend had sounded like a dream. But now… oh no, this was a disaster. How could you be attracted to him? You never felt attraction, not ever! Of all the times, of all the people, Henry had to be… this! This lovely specimen of a naga, and the best friend you’d ever had! What were you going to do?!

“You alright?” He asked, tilting his head and lowering himself down to look at your face.

You blinked and smiled breathlessly. “Yes! Yes, I’m great! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“You too!” He reached out for a hug and you walked into it. His skin was cool and smooth to the touch. He smelled like peonies. “Come in, come in, let me show you around!”

“What about unpacking?” You asked.

“Oh, leave that till tomorrow,” He said. “Let’s order a pizza and eat in the shop.”

You grinned. “That actually sounds amazing.”

“Come on!” He held out his hand and took yours and pulled you into the shop.

Oh, it was incredible. It had just crested into the middle of spring and the seasonal flowers were exploding all over the place. Color was everywhere. You closed your eyes and just breathed in the fragrances.

“Have I died?” You asked, your eyes still closed. “I’ve died, haven’t I?”

He laughed. “I hope not, you just got here.” He picked up his cell phone from the counter. “Pepperoni and pineapple on thin crust, right?”

“Yep!” You said, sitting at the counter, your eye catching on the decorative cherry blossom bonzai tree that you’d sent him for Christmas two years ago. You weren’t sure if he’d even like it, much less have kept it, but there it was, right next to the register where everyone could see it. It gave you a warm feeling in your chest.

He took you to the second floor, where there were two apartments, one on either side. You couldn’t help but notice one half of the stairs was covered with a ramp, likely to make it easier for Henry to get to the second story.

He led you to the apartment on the right and opened the door. It was a modest place but comfortable, and from the smell it seemed like it was recently deep cleaned and freshly painted in a pretty holly-green color with blush pink accents. There was a vase with all your favorite flowers spilling out of it on the kitchen table. It was mostly furnished with older but functional furniture, so you hadn’t needed to bring any heavy wardrobes or mattresses or anything, thankfully. Most of what you had in your old place was junk anyway.

“I love it,” You told Henry. “And I love the flowers.”

“I thought it would be a nice touch,” He said, holding his arm almost shyly. “I wanted you to feel comfortable.”

“I feel more comfortable here than I did in the two years I spent in my last place,” You said truthfully. “You know, we can leave the unpacking for tomorrow, but can we go down and get my rig and gear and hook it up while we wait for the pizza? It’s the only thing I have that I don’t want to leave in a truck overnight.”

“I get that,” He said.

The two of you managed to get your PC, laptop, gaming gear, and computer desk up the stairs in one trip. There was a flat screen TV on the wall of the living room to which you hooked up your PC. You ran a diagnostic as Henry heard the buzzer from the door and rushed down to get the pizza. Then the two of you spent an incredible evening eating pizza, watching comedies on Netflix, and solidifying the strength of your friendship.

You were comfortable, more so than you had ever been with anyone. Five years of talking to him was wonderful, but being close, seeing his smile, hearing his laugh and the way his eyes crinkled when he did was pure magic.

Magic that you didn’t want to ruin by being weird or creepy just because you suddenly felt attracted to him. Would he be weirded out by the fact that your brain turned into goo the moment you saw him? Would he think it was just because of his looks? You didn’t want that.

And you didn’t want to fuck up what was already an amazing relationship. Hell, meeting him in person and hanging out with him had already been a huge test of your friendship; working with him and living next to him would be an even greater one. You didn’t want to complicate it even further with an, in all likelihood, one-sided attraction.

By the time the pizza was gone and he headed back to his apartment for bed, you’d already decided to put the attraction or any notion of a relationship beyond friends out of your head.

But by God, he was beautiful.

You sort of jumped into the deep end when you started in the shop: prom season was just beginning, so you spent weeks making corsages and lapel pins. Henry thankfully spared you from having to deal with spoiled teenagers, entitled moms, and annoyed jocks dragged in by their girlfriends. Henry seemed well practiced at fielding angry customers who couldn’t make up their mind.

After work, the two of you often ate dinner together, either in his place or yours. Even though you were usually exhausted at the end of the day, you still played games together at least four times a week from your respective apartments, talking to each other over headsets even though you were probably only two walls and twenty feet apart. Sometimes you took your laptop to his apartment and played at the same desk.

It went on that way for months. It was amazing and you treasured every minute you got to spend with him. Despite putting the idea of dating him away in the back of your head, it was easy to pretend like it was just the two of you, together, against the world

After prom season ended, business slowed dramatically. You weren’t as tired in the evenings, so when you weren’t playing games with Henry, you did a little writing. You were too shy to let anyone read it, even Henry, but it still felt good to have a creative outlet.

One night, as you were writing, you heard Henry’s voice over your gaming headset on the desk. The two of you had quit playing over an hour ago, so you put it on to see if he needed anything.

“You alright, Henry? Are you back online?”

He didn’t respond, so you thought maybe you were just hearing things, but as you went to pull your headset off, you heard him say, “I’m glad to see you again. I’ve missed you.” The sound of his voice was distant, like he didn’t have his headset on.

Did he have company? His voice sounded silky and sultry, a tone you’d never heard before, and you wondered briefly if he had a girlfriend, or boyfriend. Or whatever. He’d never mentioned anything like that to you, but you weren’t his mom; he was allowed to have private things he didn’t share with other people. You did, after all.

Still, the idea that he was in a relationship cut a little deeper than you would have liked.

You heard another voice, but it was strangely robotic sounding, like it was coming through a speaker, and you couldn’t quite make out what the other person was saying. Whoever they were, they sounded male. Maybe he was in a long distance relationship?

“Mm, I love it when you talk to me like that,” Henry said, a sexy lilt in his voice. “Tell me what you’d like me to do. I could touch myself. Would you like that?”

You blushed and your heart began to race. You shouldn’t be listening to this, you knew that. It was private and none of your business. But… you couldn’t take the headset off. You wanted to hear this. You wanted him to talk to you that way. Maybe through this person, vicariously, you could have an intimate moment with him. It may be the only chance you ever got.

You heard him moan over the headset, and a sparkling heat filled your body. You bit your lip at the thrill you felt, but you were unable to move, like a deer in headlights. There was a dangerous quality to this, the idea of getting caught listening in terrified you.

You heard the person on the computer say something, but you couldn’t understand them.

Henry responded, “Of course I will. I know how much you like that… mmm, that feels so good.”

Henry’s moaning over the headset made you feel both exhilarated and astonished. You felt like you could listen to him moaned for hours.

Henry grunted sharply and repeatedly, then gasped for a minute before speaking again.

“That was wonderful,” Henry said. “It always is with you.” The other person said something you couldn’t understand, and Henry answered, “Oh, I’m afraid we don’t have time for that, darling. Our date is almost over. If you’d like to purchase a ten minute extension, you can donate an additional five hundred tokens, or you can schedule another date from any of the open slots on the main website. You know I’m always happy to spend time with you.”

You sat up in your seat, confused. Tokens? Website? What was he talking about?

There were more words you could hear, and Henry tutted. “Aww, are you sure?” He pouted. “Well, alright. I hope you won’t make me wait long, darling. See you soon.”

There was some tapping on his keyboard, and there was a power-down sound. Henry sighed and you could hear him slither out of his office, closing the door behind him.

You sat for a moment, trying to wrap your head around what you’d heard. Was he getting paid to jerk off for people? You opened a web browser and typed “amphiptere cam model” into the search engine.

You knew amphiptere nagas were rare, of course, so you weren’t surprised to only have found two results. You were surprised to find Henry’s face on one of the profiles, wearing beautiful make up and a sexy underbust corset with matching opera gloves. You clicked it, and realized he was both very expensive and highly sought after, considering all of his five weekly slots were already filled for the next two months.

Henry was a cam model. And he was apparently very good at it.

You put a hand to your forehead, stunned. What was happening right now? This was something you could never have anticipated. He was hot, of course, but he always seemed like a shy, down-to-earth kind of guy to you, even after meeting him. Who knew he had this in him? You weren’t judging, it was just surprising.

You didn’t manage to get much sleep that night, and when you did, you dreamt of being on the other end of that screen and woke in a sweat.

The next morning, you stood in the shower with your thoughts in a roil. Should you tell him you know? Would he be upset with you? Probably; listening in was a huge breach of both privacy and trust. Oh, god, what had you done? How were you supposed to act around him now? He’d know something was wrong; you could never hide your emotions well and he knew you better than anyone. Was it too late to live in a cave and cut ties with society altogether?

No, there was no internet in caves. Fuck.

You couldn’t avoid him forever; you were due downstairs for work. You could tell him that you were sick, but knowing him, he’d shut down the shop for the day to take care of you. He was so damn sweet.

No, You said, mentally slapping yourself. Don’t get distracted by his adorableness! This is a crisis!

You got out of the shower and started brushing out your hair, your stomach in knots. A knock at the door made you jump clean out of your towel. Throwing on your robe, you went to answer it. Henry was standing there with a bag and coffee, and his eyes widened when he saw your bathrobe.

“Oh, sorry, I just came to bring some breakfast. Felt like treating you a little.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat and smiled. “Thanks, this is awesome. I’ll get dressed and meet you down in the shop. You’re the best.”

He gave you a full, sharp-toothed grin and snaked his way downstairs, leaving you to grip the door to keep from falling to your knees. Did he have to be so kind? He was the worst!

You met him downstairs and tried to be normal through breakfast, but all you could think of was the way he moaned last night and tried to keep the blush off your face. Work wasn’t any better, you had all of ten customers that day, so you spent most of it talking to Henry and daydreaming about him calling you darling. It was all you could do to hold it together.

After closing the shop, he asked if you wanted to have dinner and a game at his place, but you declined, saying you were tired. He seemed concerned but didn’t press it, and you were able to escape upstairs.

You made yourself some tea to try and settle your nerves, stress-eating girl scout cookies straight from the box as you waited for the water to boil. Was it going to be like this forever? This was torture.

Another knock at the door startled you into dropping your cookies.

“Fuck!” You hissed at yourself as you bent to pick up a box. “Get your shit together!”

Henry was at the door. He had a bag from a deli.

“I brought you soup,” He said. “You seemed like you weren’t feeling well today. Is anything wrong?”

You felt incredibly guilty, staring at that bag for a solid minute, unable to talk.

“Hey,” He said, frowning and squinting into your eyes. “What’s up? Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” You said without thinking.

“Sorry?” He said. “For what? What happened?”

You were having a hard time articulating your thoughts. You hadn’t meant to say sorry, and once it slipped out, your mind blanked.

“Look, can I come in?” He asked plaintively. “Something is obviously wrong. I want to help.”

You scrubbed your face. “Okay.”

He followed you in and laid the soup on the table. “So… tell me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t even know how to say it,” You said, looking around helplessly. Your eyes fell on your headset. You picked it up and listened to it, and you could hear the fan from his office running. “Here,” You said, handing it to him. “Listen.”

He put the headset on, frowning with confusion.

“Do you hear anything?” You asked.

“I think that’s the fan, right?”

“Yeah, from your office,” You said.

He laughed as he took it off. “I’m an idiot, I must have forgot to disconnect last night after we were playing.”

“Right, it was active last night. All last night. I could hear you.”

His face went from confusion to blank shock, his mouth hanging open.

“...oh,” He said quietly. “Oh, god.”

“I’m so sorry,” You said. “I shouldn’t have listened. I should have taken it off and ignored it. I’m so, so sorry.”

There was a pause. “How long did you listen?”

“I think it was the whole thing. I heard you… finish.” You blushed just thinking about it.

“That was a thirty minute session,” He said, confusion back on his face. “Why did you listen so long?”

You looked away and bit your lip, unable to meet his eyes.

“Did you… enjoy it?” He asked. He sounded almost hopeful.

You couldn’t speak, but you nodded once.

“Really?” You heard a smile in his voice, and you managed to look up. He had a goofy, sappy grin on his face. “You don’t think it’s gross or anything like that?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m curious, though. Why do you do it?”

“I only do it during the off seasons,” He said. “The first year was really hard for the store and I almost lost the shop. I got into camming to make ends meet, but the money was so good I just continued to do it when business is really slow. I’ve been able to save a lot of money this way. I was even thinking of opening a second location, and I think at the end of this season, I’ll have enough.” He looked very shy. “You really don’t mind it?”

You shook your head fervently. “No, not at all.” You looked at his earnest face. He didn’t seem angry, and while you were relieved, you also felt inquisitive. “What’s it like? Does it feel weird?”

“It did at first,” He admitted. “But it’s normal now. It’s actually fun, especially getting ready and putting on the clothes and stuff. I don’t really get to wear that stuff out, so it’s the only time I get to feel… I don’t know, fancy.”

You smiled softly. “I think I get that.”

“Actually,” He said, rubbing his neck. “I was going to record a free promo to put up on the website tonight. Do you want to help me do my makeup? I sort of self-taught myself, but I can never get the eyeliner right.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, sure!” You said. “I really liked that corset I saw you in.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and smirked. “Did you Google me?”

“I had to,” You said. “Wouldn’t you?”

He laughed. “I guess.” He took your hand and led you toward the door and his apartment. “Come on. I’ve always wanted to have someone help with this. I’m never sure which colors compliment my skin.”

“Wait, let me grab my makeup bag,” You said, running back to your bathroom, snatching it up, and returning. “Okay, let’s go.”

Helping a guy with his makeup counted as a date, right?

He took you to his bedroom, which you’d never been. There wasn’t any furniture, not even a bed. Instead there was a huge nest of fluffy pillows and soft blankets which took up most of the floor space. He had a large walk-in closet where there was a hidden vanity with fairy lights around the mirror. The hangers had various corsets, fishnet shirts, and gloves. There was another desk that seemed to be a large jewelry case.

“This must have cost a fortune,” You said, impressed. You wished you had the confidence to wear some of this.

“A small one,” He told you. “Sometimes in camming, you have to spend to make money. The customers like variety; it’s why I record a new free promo every week. I don’t want my patrons to get bored with me.”

“Who could ever get bored with you?” You blurted without thinking.

You blushed. He blushed.

“Uh… I don’t have any chairs,” He said. “But you can sit on my tail, if you like.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking at his tail as it made a hump for you to rest on. “Won’t I hurt you?”

“No, no, not at all,” He said. “Please. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Really, it’s okay, I’ll stand,” You said, unable to even imagine sitting on his beautiful tail. “Now, let’s see. We’ll wash your face first and then we’ll start on your make-up. What about a gold lip? That’ll make your eyes pop.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” He said. “I just bought some new shades recently, and I think there’s a gold in there.”

Applying his makeup for him was a stressful experience. You were eye to eye with him, so close you could feel his breath on your skin. His lips were inches away from your own, and you were having trouble not dwelling on that fact. He was cold-blooded, and therefore generated no heat, but you wondered if he could feel yours at this distance, if he enjoyed it or was made uncomfortable by it.

You did also notice, though, that his tail had wrapped around the two of you twice. He let his arms dangle, but you noticed the muscles twitching a few times and asked yourself if you might be making him self-conscious. After all, you were the only person in his real life who knew about all this.

“Makeup done,” You said. “You look amazing. I wish I could pull off a look this daring.”

“I bet you could,” He said with a smile, looking at you fondly. “Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen you done up before. I’ll have to take you somewhere really nice so that I can see what that looks like.”

Again he blushed, even through the makeup, and pressed his lips together.

You didn’t answer that statement, trying not to read too much into it, and instead looked over at his vast array of cute garments. “How about that gold and blue underbust with the Victorian scrolling pattern? I think it would look good with your makeup.”

“Oh, yes, that’ll work nicely,” He said, grinning. “And that shrug with those gloves. I usually work a little bit of a striptease into these promos.”

You cleared your throat. “You… uh… you’ll have to let me go,” You said, gesturing at his tail.

“Oh!” He jumped and unspooled, so to speak. “Sorry. Have you ever laced a corset before?”

“Yeah, once or twice. I’ve had friends who’ve worn them before. Would you like help?”

“Yes, please,” He said. He lifted his arms to let you reach around him and position the corset, gingerly moving the feathers of his wings out of the way so that you didn’t crush them. “Thank you for this. I’ve never gotten finished so fast before. I should ask you to help all the time.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” You said, pulling the strings taut. “This was fun.”

“I’m glad you think so, too,” He said, looking over his shoulder. “If you don’t have any plans after I’m done filming and editing the video, would you like to come back over and help me take all of it off?”

You looked at him and blushed.

“I didn’t mean that in a dirty way,” He said hurriedly. “It’s just nice having someone who knows and I can talk to about it.”

“I get that,” You said as he pulled on the gloves. “Are you ready to record?”

“Yeah,” He said. “Thanks for helping.”

“Sure,” You told him. “I has happy to. I’ll let you get to it, then.”

He nodded and you saw yourself out.

When you got back to your apartment and sat down at your gaming desk, you sighed heavily, the thoughts of how good Henry looked revolving in your mind. You were both extremely attracted to him and a bit jealous that he looked better than you in all that stuff. It actually made you laugh a little bit.

“Welcome back,” You heard Henry say, and you looked down at the headset laying on your desk.

Oh jeez, he left his headset plugged in again. God you loved him, but he was such an idiot sometimes.

“I’m glad you could join me. I’m hoping your having a lovely day.” You heard the soft shhff of him taking off one of the gloves. “I always love seeing your face. I love the way your hands move. I love the smell of your shampoo when it mixes with your perfume. I love that soft little smile that you get when you arrange flowers across the shop from me.”

…what? What did he just say?

“I hope you’re listening. I’ve tried so hard to say this to you when we’re face to face, but I can never seem to find the words. This way, I can say what I want. This way, if you don’t hear me, then I haven’t risked our friendship, and if you do hear and don’t feel the same, you can ignore it, and nothing has to change. But… if you do feel the same… come back. Please. This show is for you and no one else. I’ll be waiting for you.” You heard the headset being pulled off and laid down on the desk.

You stood up and did the same. He couldn’t mean you, could he? There was no way. Stunned, you walked back toward your front door and opened it, looking across the hall at Henry’s door.

It was cracked open.

With your heart in your throat and breathing like you just ran a mile, you pushed it open and walked slowly toward his office, only to find it empty. The headset was laying on the desk and the camera was off. Looking down the hallway, you saw the light in his bedroom was on and the door was also cracked. Swallowing hard, you walked down to his room and opened the door.

He was laying there, curled up around himself, laying with his head on his arms, looking a little forlorn.

“Henry?” You asked.

He popped up immediately, his eyes widening. “You came.” He whispered. “You actually came!” Before you could respond, he rushed up and snatched you off the ground, hugging you tight. “Does this mean you want me, too? The way I want you, I mean.”

“I… yes,” You said. “I just didn’t want you to think it was because of… well… all this.”

“I don’t care about that, I’m just so happy,” He said, kissing your cheek. “I’ve been in love with you forever, even before we met in person. I was just scared that if you found out about my second job, you’d be disgusted. Knowing you don’t mind it gave me the courage to try and confess.”

“I’m glad you did,” You replied, hugging him tightly around the neck. “I’d never have been able to do it.”

He pulled back and looked at you. “Can I kiss you, please?”

You laughed at the absurdity, but you appreciated that he asked first. He was thoughtful like that. You nodded, and he didn’t waste time, pressing his lips to yours hard enough that you could feel the fangs behind them.

His kisses became hungry, and he gripped your clothes. “I… um… don’t want to assume,” He said breathlessly between kisses. “But… um…” He looked over at his bed-nest, and regarded you with a questioning look.

“It’s okay,” You replied. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, too.”

He snaked over to the nest and lay you down in it, unbuttoning your shirt.

“Should I take off the corset for you?” You asked him.

“I can leave it on, if you like,” he said seductively, kissing your neck and leaving a trail of sparkling gold lipstick on your skin.

“Would that be uncomfortable?” You asked.

“Not at all,” He replied, his kisses moving lower. “I want to look good for you.”

“I’m not a client, Henry,” You said. “You don’t have to work so hard to impress me. I’m already in love with you.”

“That’s good to hear,” He said, his lips against your breast. “But it’s not about wanting to impress you and I don’t see you as a client. I see you as the woman I want to be with. I should put more effort into my time with you than anyone else. I want you to know you’re special to me.”

“You’ve done more than enough to make me feel special,” You said. “I want to return the favor.”

Your hand went into his hair as his tongue swirled around your nipple, and the lower half of his tail moved up around your head. When you turned to look at it, you saw a swollen, puckering slit, normally hidden underneath him as he moved, that he now revealed to you. You pressed your finger along the line, and he moaned against your skin. One of his hands reached down into your pants, into your underwear, and touched you.

You gasped softly at his fingers tickling your slit, you doubled your efforts on his own, moving your head so that your tongue could reach it and licking a slow stripe upward. A strangled, broken grunt came from him.

He continued to undress you slowly and kiss your body, touching you and teasing. You writhed underneath him while sucking at the slit on his body, watching as a bright golden organ slowly peaked its way out, followed by another. You were startled at first, but it was fascinating to watch. You took one in your hand and sucked on the tip of the other, reveling in the sounds that he made.

His lips finally came back up to meet yours, the need in his body evident as he lined one of his cocks up to you, the other resting against your clit. He rose up to look at you.

“Still okay?”

You nodded. “It’s okay.”

He began to push himself inside you, kissing your forehead and cheek as he did so. You gripped his shoulders and held on as he fully seated himself, his second member resting between you. The slit was farther down on his tail, about halfway down, so the position was a little awkward at first, but the two of you pulled each other close and found a rhythm that suited you.

He lifted you up easily, his tail between your legs, undulating into and out of you, and all you could do was hang on for the ride. You moaned, held securely in his arms, his wings flaring out behind him, the light of his bedroom lamp filtering through the feathers like sunlight through clouds.

“I’m so close,” He gasped, picking you up as a flood gushed from the cock you had been riding, splashing against your leg and his tail, before he moved you onto the second one and kept going.

“That’s handy,” You said, also gasping.

“When this one is done, the other one will be ready again,” He said as you bounced on him.

“Oh, god,” You wheezed. “What have I gotten myself into?”

He laughed breathlessly and kissed you again, hitting harder and faster. You felt your own wave coming fast and you began to moan and whimper, not able to control the sounds you made.

Finally, you came, and the rush of ecstasy filled your mind. You lay your head on his shoulder as you dangled in his grasp bonelessly, his tail still moving inside you slowly.

After giving you a moment to recover, he sped up again, and you came again. It might have been hours before the two of you found a stopping point, or more precisely, and exhaustion point. He lay you down in the nest, corset and makeup still on, and the two of you slept in a sweaty pile.

The next morning, he woke up with the makeup smeared across his face and a serious case of bed-head. You laughed.

“What’s funny?” He asked sleepily, smiling at you from the coil of his tail.

“I think I should have taken you up on the offer to help you dress down,” You said. “Let’s get that taken care of.”

You helped him out of his corset and the two of you stepped into the bathroom, three-fourths of which was just the shower. Stepping into the shower, you soaped him down and washed his long body, and he did the same for you. The two of you couldn’t help kissing and giggling and cuddling the whole time.

He ordered in breakfast as you dashed across the hall to fetch some clothes. When you got back, you said, “You didn’t get to record your promo.”

“I can do it tonight,” He said. “Will you help me with it?”

“Of course,” You said. “I’ll be your manager or assistant or whatever you’d like to call me.”

“I’d like to call you my girlfriend, actually,” He said with a smile.

“I like the sound of that,” You replied, hugging him around the waist. “Partners in all things.”

“I like that, too. Speaking of which, I think I might be able to open that second location sooner than I thought.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, if you live with me in my apartment, we can rent out your apartment, and the extra income will help. Two birds, one stone.”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me. As long as I’m with you.”

“Always.”

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Naga #Demisexual #Graysexual

616 notes · View notes

crescentsteel · 4 years

Text

Just Friends - Part 8

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo , model fem reader warnings: slow burn, fluff, smut word count: 8.5k (I can’t be stopped, can I?)

AO3

Happy Birthday, my favorite captain!! [additional notes at the end]

Part 7 | Part 9 | m.list

You’ve decided.

You’re going to tell him. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. After that phone call, you couldn’t reply to his texts without getting nervous. When he asked you for dinner one night, you made up an excuse not to go because you were scared that he’d see through you. You don’t plan to avoid him. You just want some time to collect yourself before you face him again. Unfortunately, you didn’t have much of that. His party is tonight. Because you were so flustered during the call, you didn’t ask any details about the party. You only asked what it's for, but he didn’t really give any specifics.

‘I just felt like it.’

That’s the only thing he told you. You don’t know who are the people going. You don’t even know what to wear.

You’d call Kenma but you’re not sure if he’s actually invited. You’re left with no choice but to ask the guy himself. You get your phone and shoot him a message.

‘Where and when is the party? What do I wear?’

You weren’t expecting a quick reply because it was still working hours, but your phone vibrates before you can put it down.

‘Something like what you were wearing in my grad party. Kenma will pick you up.”

You’re relieved that it was Kenma and not him. You couldn’t imagine being alone with him in that tiny space of his car. You realized that this will be the first time you and Kenma will get a chance to talk to each other without Kuroo around. It couldn’t be more perfect. He’s the perfect person to tell your dilemma to.

You finished your scheduled shoot that morning and went shopping for what you can wear. While you were looking for dresses, you determined that you should just tell him tonight. After the party, you’d ask him to drive you home. You’ll do it during the ride. You weren’t going to confess for the purpose of moving your relationship forward. You just want to let it out of your system. You believed that when you say it this time, you can finally move on from your feelings. You’ll just talk it out like two adults. You still want to be friends with him and Kenma. Surely, you could still be that even when he rejects you. It’ll be awkward at first, but it’ll pass. Before you even know it, it’ll just be laughing matter between you two.

You become more meticulous in choosing what to wear. In the end, you decided with a white leather bustier and a high waist black skirt that went just below your knees. You throw in a brown cropped jacket so you won’t get cold. Sure you’d get rejected, but at least you’ll be exceptionally pretty when you do.

—

When you get in Kenma’s car, nostalgia hits you. Around a year ago, it was him in your car when you were crying your eyes out like an idiot.

“How’ve you been y/n?” It wasn’t small talk. He honestly wanted to know how you’ve been since he hasn’t been around much.

“Awful recently. I realized I’m still in love with that bastard.” You don’t mince between words and go straight to what you wanted to talk about. You’ve been keeping it all to yourself that when your trusted confidant is there, you just had to say it immediately.

He glances at you briefly, then returns his eyes on the road. His face remains impassive.

“What do you plan to do about it?”

You sigh. “I’ll tell him later.”

Even from the side profile, you noticed the way his eyes lit up with amusement and the way the corner of his lip twitched. You know what he’s thinking. He probably finds it a bit funny you’re going to try again despite what happened last time.

“Is it weird that would?” Your words coated with doubt. You were determined in your decision, but if Kenma thinks otherwise, your composure will plummet down and you’re not sure you can recover.

“No. You should do it, y/n. You never know.” He was more than encouraging. He sounded like it was definitely the right thing to do.

When you made up your mind that you’d confess, you had no expectations. You know that Kuroo’s just flirtatious and touchy because of the previous nature of your relationship. Those couldn’t mean anything else.

But Kenma knew Kuroo better than you did. They go way way back. With Kenma’s statement, a bud of hope sprouts from your once unexpecting heart. He wouldn’t say that if there’s no likelihood that Kuroo has feelings for you too.

You managed to calm yourself before. Now that you thought you and Kuroo can actually happen, you feel your nerves fluctuating.

“Wish me luck, Kenma.”

The stoplight turns red. With the car stopped, Kenma looks at you with warm and supportive eyes.

“You don’t need it, y/n.”

The bud of hope you had earlier was watered and fertilized by those four little words. Maybe there really is something more than just friendship for you and Kuroo. You push back the surge of confidence you were feeling. You didn’t want it to get in your head. You still were going to tell him the same things you rehearsed in your head this afternoon. The only difference is now there’s a chance that you won’t get totally turned down.

You didn’t talk about it further with Kenma. He gave you what you were looking for and he didn’t ask about the details as well. You move the topic to him and the rest of the drive was spent talking about his career and yours. It was mostly about what happened when you left.

You both arrive at the hotel. Apparently, Kuroo rented the bar of the building. When you entered the place, there were many people there already, people you didn’t know. How glad you were that at least Kenma was there. You’d assume this is a work-related party, but the people don’t look like they’re from the business side of things. Everyone looked like they’re about the same age as you.

A man with slicked back brown hair approaches. “Kenma! How’s our resident CEO?”

“Still the same, Yaku.” If Kenma knows him, he might be someone from their high school. The guy looks at you and stares for a few seconds, admiration quite transparent on his face.

“Hi.” You smile courteously.

A faint blush surfaces on his cheeks once he realized he was indeed staring. “Oh hello.” He recovers quickly and adds, “I didn’t know Kenma has a girlfriend.”

You were about to correct him, but Kenma already spoke before you were able to say anything. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s Kuroo’s …uhhh, friend.” Even to a stranger, that pause was very telling. Even though you liked it to be what Kenma was implying, you didn’t want anyone to misinterpret your relationship with Kuroo. Especially when it really isn’t like that.

“Y/n. I’m a friend of Kenma and Kuroo.” You took the liberty of introducing yourself properly and clear any possible misunderstanding.

“Morisuke Yaku, former teammate of this guy here and that rooster head.” Your smile widens at the nickname. You’ll be using that next time when you have your usual banter battles. “Speaking of which, where’s the birthday boy?” Yaku asked.

Birthday boy?

People suddenly started clapping and cheering. You turn around to see the commotion and find Kuroo to be the center of attention. “There he is.” Yaku looks at Kuroo who’s currently being greeted by persons he was passing by. “See you later, y/n. I have to greet the stupid celebrant.” He gives a quick wave and walks to Kuroo.

Holy crap! It was his birthday? That’s why the people in the room looked like his age. They’re his friends he invited to celebrate with him.

Last time, you weren’t able to celebrate his personal graduation party. Now, you attend his birthday party without knowing it’s his birthday. You came empty-handed. You harshly faced Kenma. “Why didn’t you tell me it was his birthday?!”

“Huh? Didn’t he tell you?”

“No! He just said he was throwing a party. I thought it was work-related or whatever.” Kenma suddenly coughs and looks straight ahead. You follow his line of vision which traveled to Kuroo who is now only a few steps away from you.

You thought you were prepared for the whole confession jazz you were about to do, but at the sight of the man on the receiving end, your head became a fumbling mess. If anyone could see your brain right now, they’d probably see fumes steaming out as you drill it with one question after another.

What do you say to him? How should you act? Do you look weird right now? How do you normally talk again?

Kenma taps your shoulder. “Just greet him a happy birthday y/n.” He said softly beside you. He must’ve noticed that you suddenly went rigid.

“Heey. Glad you made it.” Kuroo’s delighted smile erased all the worrying in your head. He looks happy with his friends coming together today.

At that moment, you decided to delay your plans for now. It was his day. You didn’t want to burden him today with the need to tell him your feelings. Even with Kenma’s encouragement, you just weren’t entirely sure that Kuroo sees you the way you see him. For tonight, you’re going to pretend everything’s fine.

“I did say I’d come, right?” You smile back at him and go for a friendly hug. “Happy Birthday.” You say softly while still enveloped in his arms. “Thanks, kitten” You’re about to let go but he prolongs the embrace, his one hand going up to the back of your head.

You’re a second away from panicking when someone calls his attention, causing him to release you.

“Catch you later?” He asked you before going back to other guests. “Go ahead, birthday boy.” You’re glad to still have at least a tiny percentage of your sass with you right now.

“Please tell me you’re still going to do it.” Kenma said behind you. You let out one heavy puff. “Not tonight.” He groans while rubbing his face with frustration.

“I’ll head out for a bit.”

“Where are you going? He might look for you.”

“Just at the balcony. I need some air.” You pat his shoulder with a smile before heading towards the veranda. It was true that you needed some air.

When you opened the glass door leading outside, the cold breeze welcomed you in its full glory, but you embraced it.

You stare blankly at the building and the night sky as you lean your elbows on the railings. This is nice. It’s not totally quiet. You could still hear the muted chatters inside, but you feel isolated from them. For once, you felt alone even from your own thoughts. It felt great. You weren’t even aware of it, but you realized just now that ever since you came back to Japan, you were always preoccupied. If it wasn’t your job, it was Kuroo.

Weirdly, even though your thoughts drifted back to him just now, you still feel at peace. It must be the ambiance.

You hear someone open the door leading to where you are. You have no problems having small talk with strangers, but right now, you didn’t want to be disturbed. You don’t get moments like this at all. If you’re lucky, they won’t talk to you.

You continued minding your own business until someone stood beside you. Still, you pretended not to notice them, whoever they are.

“What’s a pretty lady doing all alone out here?”

You rested your chin on your palm as you face the source of the voice. Of course you knew who it was. You didn’t even have to look at him.

A humored grin crept on your lips when you see him resting his back and elbows against the metal balustrade.

“What’s the star of the night doing out here?” You countered. It’s strange. You don’t feel nervous. You are alone with the object of your affection. You thought you’d fidget at least a little.

“Got a little tired from entertaining everyone. Just wanted to take it easy for a while.” He responded while staring blankly at the direction of the bar. Like you, he found the stillness of the atmosphere relaxing. You could see it in his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

He chuckled. “Cause knowing you, you’d buy some expensive shit I probably don’t need.”

“So? It’s not like I can’t afford them.”

He stood straight, only to turn to the same direction you were facing. He slouched and placed his elbows on the railings while his eyes took in the busy streets of Tokyo.

“You being here today is enough already.”

His statement contained no humor. It wasn’t affectionate either. He just threw the words plainly in the air like an objective truth.

Only comfortable silence followed as you eye the same scene he’s watching. You don’t know what was it that came over you, but it just felt like it was the perfect time to say it. You’ll be disregarding that it was his birthday, but you don’t mind. You should say it now.

“Listen, Kuroo.”

When your orbs meet his, you don’t falter. More than anything, you feel more sure about the next words that are about to come out of your mouth. “I’m—

“Kuroo-san!”

You both look at the doorway leading back to the bar from which a light blonde lady and a gray haired guy came out. They look awfully familiar, like you’ve seen them somewhere.

“Lev. Alisa. What are you doing here?”

The Russian siblings. You’ve seen them on a billboard. They’re big names in Japan, according to what you’ve heard from the people you’ve worked with when you came back.

“What do you mean ‘what are we doing here?’ You invited us.” Lev said.

Kuroo sighed and looked irritated. “I mean right here on this balcony.”

“We couldn’t find you inside.” Lev replied before he shifted his attention to you. “Wow. Woow! Kuroo-san. Is that y.n?” He turned to Kuroo as he asked. “Oh right! You guys model too.” Kuroo introduced the three of you properly. “Oh my Gosh. You look even prettier in person.” Alisa said with eyes twinkling in admiration while she gapes at your face.

You’re used to flattery, but it feels weird coming from other models, especially her. She had gorgeous green eyes and natural blonde hair. She’s also taller than you. You honestly think that if you two entered the room at a same time, the attention would all be on her.

“How did you and Kuroo meet?” She questioned inquisitively. You’ve never had to answer that question. It was always a question of how you and Kuroo related, now how you two met. “Uhhh. Well..” You think hard of a possible scenario where you and Kuroo could have possibly made acquaintances, one that doesn’t involve alcohol and sex.

“Met her at a party during uni days. She also knows Kenma.” Kuroo answered for you.

It wasn’t a lie, but it sounded normal. Now you know what story to tell when someone else asks.

“I see. Nice to meet you, y.n!” She said enthusiastically right before clinging to Kuroo’s arms. You were shocked at the gesture. Kuroo didn’t seem to mind though. Were they close enough for that amount of physical contact?

“Happy Birthday Kuroo-san!” The siblings greeted in unison with jovial tones. Alisa suddenly looks at you. “Is it okay if we take him for a while?” The way she asked was very pleasant and kind, but it annoyed you. You were about to tell Kuroo something extremely important. You already overlooked the fact that they barged in at that moment. Now, they’re going to drag him away with her holding onto him.

“Actually, we were talking.” Kuroo said hesitantly. “Eh? It’ll just be a while. And they’re also looking for you inside.” Lev voiced out.

There were many times you had to fake a smile, but this one, this one takes the cake. It took everything from you to make it as genuine as you wanted. “It’s okay! You should go with them, Kuroo.”

‘Resist some more.’ You pleaded in your head, only to be disappointed.

“I’ll be back, I swear.” The determination in his voice didn’t help lessen the displeasure you have on what’s happening. Your jaws are hurting from the effort you put in smiling. As soon as they turn their backs on you, your eyes squint at where Alisa’s and Kuroo’s limbs are connected. You didn’t think Kuroo was the kind to be that cozy with other women. You tried to reason with yourself that maybe they’re just really close. You’re not the only lady friend after all.

But it wasn’t working. You’re downright exasperated that some other girl took him right when you’re about to confess to him. Did they have any idea how your week has been, constantly thinking about him and him only? Everything was going so smoothly and they just had to ruin it.

Even if Kuroo will be back, he won’t be back to how he left you there. Hell no. That’s not how it’s going to be. It’s just impossible to be that calm again when you’re boiling over like this.

You decide that the best way to spend the rest of the night is to spend it with a long lost friend - liquor. You haven’t been drinking at all since you flew to U.S. and you never went out partying like you did here in Japan.

You stomp back inside.

“Anything with vodka.” You told the bartender as soon as you reached the counter.

While waiting for your drink, you automatically look for Kuroo. He’s surrounded by his friends with Alisa on his side. She’s pressed a little too close to him for your liking.

The realization that hit you wasn’t a welcome one.

You were not just irked. You’re jealous. You’re fucking jealous for Christ’s sake. You took your seat and palmed your forehead. You’ve never been more thankful to a bartender when your drink arrives.

You drank the mix like it was water. You needed it. You were so upset. Not only were you not able to admit your feelings, you also got jealous when you had no right to be. They were probably just friends anyways.

It’s too early to be drinking, but you don’t give a damn. “Hey.” You called out the bartender. “Keep them coming until I tell you to stop.”

It was on your fourth glass when you felt the aftermath of drinks you raced to finish. You didn’t even have to move for you to know that your sense of balance is getting wobbly.

“Y.n.? You okay?”

Someone sat beside you. It sounded like a man, a concerned one. But you just laugh it off. “Please. If you’re not drinking with me, I’d rather not have this conversation.” You hear him sigh. “Gin and Tonic here.”

You swivel your chair so you could face him, which was a bad idea. The sudden motion made you extra dizzy. You slapped the cold marble of the counter to stop yourself from swirling further than you should. When you stabilize yourself, you take a good look at the person beside you.

Brown hair, bright eyes. What was his name again? Toshisuke Gaku? Maku? Or was it Saku?

“Hello, Taku-san.” You made your best impression to look sober.

He softly laughed. “It’s Yaku actually.”

Lucky you, you were almost drunk so you just giggled. “Sorry. I blame these.” You pinpoint the three empty glasses and the fourth one that’s half finished. “Isn’t it a tad early to be getting drunk?” The bartender hands him his drink which he takes a sip at.

“Yeah, it is.” Yet you continued drinking the liquor you asked for. You’d stop if it was making you feel any better, but it wasn’t. So you’ll keep drinking until it does. It isn’t like you to be reckless. But tonight, you’ll make an exception. You’ll just ask Kenma to drive you home when you’re wasted already.

“Want to talk about it?” You couldn’t figure out if he was flirting or he’s being nice. You haven’t been into any dates, so you’re a bit rusty picking up if you’re being hit on.

“Not really.” You chose to be cautious.

"I’m practically a stranger. Your secret will be safe with me.”

You scoff at him. “You’re not a stranger. You’re friends with Kuroo.”

He puts his glass down on the counter with gleaming eyes. “So it’s about him.”

What is seriously up with these people? Kuroo, Kenma, now this guy. They’re all too astute, it’s abnormal. “No, it’s not.” You denied. Even though he was spot on, you still wouldn’t admit it.

“You keep peeking at him every once in a while.”

You take another sip. “Why are you hellbent on talking about him? I don’t want to talk about him.” You intended to sound ticked off, but the rising and falling of your voice from the alcohol failed you. He chuckled. “When I saw you a while ago, I thought you were the serious type of person.”

“I am! I’m just really tipsy right now.” That you admit.

“I can see that.”

You involuntarily look at Kuroo to see if the Haiba lady is still with him. It’s been a great while now since he left with her. But there they are, still huddled with his other guests.

You gulped straight your remaining drink. You’re going home. The alcohol is useless. You’re still pissed. You stood up from your seat. At the first step you take, the four glasses hit all at once. Your vision became unsteady. Your feet can’t tell if you’re about to go straight or sidewards. You’re also not sure if you’re swaying or it’s just your head that’s spinning.

On your second step, you confirmed that indeed, it was you who’s swaying. You tried to regain your footing, but it only made things worse. You trip.

“Oh shit.” Yaku exclaimed as he saw you about to go down.

Good thing he was fast on his feet to catch you. He grips your arms to support you, but it looks like the drinks you had caught up with you already as you groan on his chest. He tried to shake off the effect it had on him.

You are extremely attractive. He couldn’t take his eyes off you when he first saw you, but he sensed that something’s going on with you and Kuroo. You just confirmed his speculation from that tiny exchange you had. Him and Kuroo usually had contrasting tastes, but you happen to be one of the few exceptions.

You try to hoist yourself up by gripping the fabric on his chest. You’re a bit taller than him, but you were slumped at him from the way you staggered earlier. You lift your head up and look at him with misty eyes. Crap, you’re too pretty even when at the brink of drunkenness. “I’ll call for Kuroo, okay?” That way, you’ll be out of his hands already.

“Don’t!” You frantically opposed. “I’m going home. Please help me call a cab.” You suddenly giggle like a kid. “Apparently, I suck at it.”

That’s when he knew that the alcohol had fully set in your system. You were guarded not long ago and now you’re being cutesy and comfy with him. He couldn’t believe you thought you could go home by yourself like that.

He should call Kuroo, or Kenma at least. But how can he do that when you look like you’ll fall on your face without assistance?

To make things worse for him, your hands that were previously just on his chest crawl up to his shoulders as you rest your cheek on the crook of his neck. “Mmmm.” You put your weight against him as you relax within his hold.

Oh no.

You passed out.

On another side of the party, his own party, Kuroo couldn’t wait for the non-stop chatters to end. He held this party because he wanted to get everyone he knew together. Since everyone invited was almost related to Volleyball, he thought it’d be more like a reunion and he’d just be the sponsor. He didn’t plan to be the star of the night. It wouldn’t be so bad if Lev and Alisa didn’t bother you when you were about to say something important. He’s getting ahead of himself, but for a moment there, it seemed like you were about to confess.

He’ll let Taketora finish whatever he’s saying then he’s going back to you. His eyes roamed around to see if you went back inside.

Someone must have said something funny because everyone around him suddenly laughed, everyone except him. He didn’t hear shit about what it was. All he focused on was you’re comfortably snuggled up on Yaku.

“Excuse me.” He didn’t even look back before he marched as fast as he could to reach you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Yaku?” He gave the former Nekoma libero a threatening glare. Seeing you cozied up with someone else, even if it’s his friend, right on his birthday made him seethe with anger. Still, he lowered his voice to avoid unwanted attention. “I’m not doing anything, dipshit. She drank like hell while you left her alone. You dumbass.”

That alleviated his temper. For one thing, Yaku was right. He did leave you all alone. Most of the people here knew each other. You were practically an outsider. He should’ve introduced you to everyone. He was used to your self-reliance that he became unmindful of your situation. Still, what made you drink until you got this wasted?

He shook his head from the lack of answer and from his own unthoughtfulness.

He carefully takes your hand to gently wake you up. “Hey.” You raise your head and meet his eyes. At the sight of him, you instantly let go of Yaku and went to him on your own accord. You put your head against his chest and clutched his bicep with your other hand that he wasn’t holding.

You groan before murmuring, “Kuroooo.”

“Yes, kitten?”

“Happy Burthdaaay.” You already greeted him first thing a while ago, but this one softened him up. Even at your intoxicated state, it was his interests that are present in your mind.

“Yaku, can you tell Kenma that I’m leaving the party to him?”

Before Yaku could respond, Kenma beat Yaku to it. “I’m right here.” Kenma must have followed him when he walked away all of a sudden in the middle of their group’s conversation.

“I’m leaving the party to you for a while.”

Kenma made a face as soon as he saw you flopped onto him, but Kenma didn’t complain. “Come back as soon as you can.”

He nods before slowly walking away with you hanging on to him. When you and Kuroo exit the place, Yaku walks to Kenma’s side.

“How long do you think before he comes back?” Yaku asked.

Kenma took a few seconds to reply. “He’s not going to come back.”

—

“I want my bed,” you mutter on your seat with your eyes closed. He thought you’d be comfortable since he reclined the seat so you can lie down a bit.

“We’re on the way to my place, okay?” His one hand briefly lets go of the wheel to caress your knuckles. You swat his hand away and whined.

“Nooo. I want my bed.”

You look like you’re about to throw a tantrum if he refuses.

“In my purse. Keys. My bed.”

He didn’t hear anything from you again. When he had the chance, he glanced at you. You must have slipped back to unconsciousness.

He’d prefer if he took you to his apartment, but he wouldn’t want you throwing a drunken fit when you get up and find that you weren’t at the comfort of your own home.

So he drove to your place.

He goes to your side of the car and helps you get out of the vehicle. The nap you took didn’t do you any good. He tried to support your strides, but your legs were like jelly.

He went in front of you and slouched a bit. “Get on my back.” You immediately obeyed him. He secures his grip on your legs as he starts walking towards your room. The place didn’t change so he still remembers where your unit is.

The guard almost halted him but didn’t do so when they saw that it was you he’s carrying.

He let you down when you arrived at your door.

“I feel like puking.” You covered your mouth with one hand.

Instead of answering, he quickly searched for your key card on your purse. If you’re gonna barf, you’re gonna do it inside. He hurriedly opens your door and assists you as you make your way to the kitchen sink.

He caresses your back while you let out what you ingested earlier, which wasn’t a lot. It was mostly colored liquid, probably the ones you drank at his party.

“Feel better?”

You open the faucet to clean the mess you made, then you wipe your mouth before nodding to his question.

“Get me water please.”

You seat yourself on the edge of your bed while he gets what you asked for.

He sits beside you before handing you a glass of water.

Your eyes can now focus on something compared to earlier where you fluttered your lids just to fight the urge to pass out.

“Still fucked up, aren’t you?”

You laugh lowly. “The good kind though.” It was true. From being wasted, you’re now just happy drunk based on that amused grin playing on your lips.

He has no idea what’s going through your head. Maybe it’s just the alcohol coursing through you that made you feel elated. Still, he’s glad you’re somewhat okay now. He’d ask you what you were gonna say earlier, but he’ll be doubting any answer you’ll give.

You did tell him before. You’re not you when you’re drunk.

He’ll ask another time. For now, he’ll let you rest.

He’s debating whether he should come back here later after the party or just leave you right now that you’re safe anyways. Honestly, he doesn’t want to come back to the party. He’d rather stay here and make sure you’d be okay, especially if you wake up in the morning with a hangover.

Although you did let him in your place, it was only to take you home. You might flip if you wake up with him there. Also, the party was his. He kinda feels bad for Kenma who he left the burden to.

“Will you be okay?”

You place your palm on your sides as support while you lean back a little bit. “Yep. A-okay!” You simpered right after answering.

He smiles at your cheerful drunk self. You’ll be okay. He’ll check up on you first thing in the morning to make sure.

“Call me when you need me, okay?”

You grab his arm, halting him before he stands up. “You’re leaving already?” He almost thought that it was cute, but he couldn’t with the way you’re looking at him.

You’re up to something. Something not good. Jesus Christ, he wanted to indulge you. But it’d be best to just ignore it. It’s all that liquor you drowned yourself with. “I still have my party, remember?”

“You won’t even kiss me good night?”

That heightened his awareness of the situation. It was just him and you, on your bed, with you stripped off of your inhibitions. One wrong move, and he might find himself doing something that will lead to regret when you’re both satiated. He hasn’t been enduring these past few months only for him to give in to your temptation now. He’s the sober one. He can keep things in check.

He moves closer to your face. You don’t even budge. Your eyes are fixated on his lips as he comes nearer, but his lips go up to your forehead instead.

A flash of disappointment comes across your face, then you cackle all of a sudden.

“What are we? In high school?” You continued laughing. He just stared at your overjoyed state. You didn’t need to be that vocal about your dissatisfaction in the kiss he just gave you. His plan to be nice to you tonight is still intact, but in the morning, he’ll give you a thorough narration of everything you did tonight. So sure, he’d let you enjoy whatever humored you at the moment. Tomorrow, it’ll be his turn.

“When I said kiss,” your one hand creeps to his chest with your eyes following the movement. When your fingers reach his nape, you look into his eyes and softly say, “this is what I meant.”

You pull him in and press your lips onto his.

He always imagined how this situation would go. Sometimes, when you talk, your words get tuned out and he can only think about how it’d be like to kiss you again. But no product of his imagination prepared him for this moment when he finally feels the lusciousness of your lips. When you open your mouth to nip his lower lip softly, all rational thoughts leave his head. Your taste was intoxicating and it wasn’t the trails of alcohol on your mouth. It was you, all you.

You pull back right before he’s about to return the kiss.

Your hand leaves his neck, but your eyes keep locked with his. You don’t smile. You don’t move an inch. He does the same, as if you two are trapped in that point in time until one of you decides to shatter that moment. The air felt heavy as that fragile point of no return dangles dangerously between you two.

Even though he’s the sober one, he’s the first to give in.

“Fuck it.”

His hand goes to the back of your head and reclaims your lips once again. He could not reciprocate your gentle kiss. He can only ravage your lips as he tries to make up for the time he’s lost you. It doesn’t help that you respond to him with the same intensity. It was a kiss that abandoned the boundary of friendship you both agreed to. At this point, he couldn’t give a shit as the clash of your tongues spur him on even more.

He lets go of your lips. He moves to that nook just below your jaw and licks it right before sucking it softly. You let out a soft moan which made him smirk. He still knows your body all too well.

Your hands that were gripping his shoulders frantically moved down to unbutton his suit. He takes off your jacket so he can trail down kisses on the curve of your shoulders. It’s been so long, yet he still hasn’t forgotten how you delicate your skin felt. He couldn’t get enough. He craved to do so much to you all at once.

His one hand grips the side of your knees and hitches up the fabric of your skirt so he can feel the bare skin of your thighs. while the other snakes around your waist as his mouth moves down to your chest. As much as he loved the way your boobs looked with your top, it needs to go. He goes for your lips again as he fumbles with the clasps in front of your outfit.

When he felt it come off, he pulls away for a moment just to take in the vision you provided, and holy fuck. You’re a sight straight from his fantasies. Your eyes are hazy with desire. You weren’t wearing anything beneath the top, so your unclad breasts graced his eyes as the garment still hung loosely on your shoulders. Your skirt’s yanked yup high enough that an inch more and he can already see what the cloth is concealing beneath it.

You haven’t even touched him that much, but his arousal is already in its full glory. He’s so torn. He wants to fuck you slowly and delicately to savor the feeling of having you once again. But your appearance is making him want to do otherwise.

“Why are you staring?”

Your question was real. You really had no idea why he was gaping at you. You had no idea how you look like a feast laid out for him and him only.

He gets back to your bed and latches his lips onto yours again. You welcome him once more by grabbing the back of his head and treading your fingers on his hair. Instead of encasing you in his arms again, he gently moves you so that your back is against the headboard of the bed. He needs his two hands for all the things he’s going to do to your body.

When your back is planted against the cushioned headboard, his hands proceed to cup your naked bosoms while he continues ravaging the delicious wonders of your lips. When he pinches the two hard buds, he earned himself a groan that you delivered right on his mouth.

Even with his senses full of you, he didn’t miss how you clenched your thighs together.

His lips wander down, taking his time as he sucks the skin leading to your breast. He swirls his tongue on the stiff nipple while he tweaks the other one with his deft fingers. You grasp his hair when he puts it between his teeth and gives it a soft tug.

“Hnnnnng”

Your head is clouded with lust as Kuroo continues driving you wild with his tongue. It feels so good already. You are overwhelmed with nothing but the sensation he’s giving you. All you can do is take it as it assaults your whole being. The throbbing of your core only gets worse when his mouth showers your other breast with the same licking and sucking as he did with the other.

Your thighs are quivering from how hard you’re pressing them together. He must’ve noticed since he suddenly pries them open with a nudge of his knee. That only made it worse though. Now there is nothing that’s appeasing the need in your center.

You pull his head and look at him.

“Touch me already.”

His fingers immediately trace the skin of your thigh until he’s grazing your clothed slit, but it still not enough.

“Your underwear is soaked, kitten.”

How can it not be? You’ve been wanting to touch and be touched by him for so long. If your body didn’t feel as heavy and if your head just spun a little less, you would’ve shoved him on his back and rode him until you got your release.

But as you requested, he did as you told. He removed your thong and threw it somewhere on your bed. At the first stroke of his fingers on the flesh of your damp cavern, you whimper already. Your hands fly to the edge of the headboard to steady yourself as you spread your legs open for his further ministrations.

Kuroo always thought you were hot as hell. He leans back a bit so he could take a good look at your whole body positioned that way. He never underestimated the effect you had on him. But this is beyond being hot. You look like a fucking goddess. He could feel his precum oozing from his cock already. You just had to make it harder for him to keep it together. All he could think about now is burying is dick deep down your pussy that’s soaking wet just for him.

“Why won’t you touch me?” Instead of impatience, your tone was woeful as if you thought that he didn’t want to do just that. You have no idea that he wants to do more than touching.

Recovering from his entranced state, he gets back your lips right before tracing the wetness of your slit with his middle finger repeatedly. You breathe heavily with eyes closed as each stroke increases the ache in your groin. He moves his focus on your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves in small tortuous circles.

You remove one hand from the headboard to grab his tie, twisting the material in your hand, then pulling him closer so you can reach for his lips. Before you can even connect his mouth with yours, he slides in one digit inside your eager cunt. “Uhhhhhh,” your planned kiss suspended as his finger penetrates your walls.

“That’s it. Let me hear you moan for me again.”

He targets your neck again with open mouthed kisses while he quickens the thrusts of his finger. You really had no choice but to obey him, your obscene moans leak from your mouth as each thrust makes you crave him more and more. Barely slowing down, he pushes in another one. You arch your back from the sensuous stir it gave you. It’s been so long that you forgot how he can do a hell of a job in pleasuring you with only his fingers.

As he pumps in and out of you, his palm brushes your clit which adds to the rapture building up in your stomach. “Kuroo please.”

“Please what, kitten?” He doesn’t cut back on the speed of his fingers, his eyes completely absorbed in your face that has carnal delight pronounced all over.

“Stop.” You whisper helplessly.

He’s caught off guard since he probably thought you were about to cum, and you were. That’s why you had to stop him. With all the strength you can muster, you lift yourself up and push him against your headboard. You position yourself on his lap and cover his mouth yours while you briskly unbutton his polo, which was proving to be a task with your light-headedness.

“Your suits are stupid. Stop wearing them.” Of course you didn’t mean that. He’s a treat to the eyes with his suit on. But they’re not the easiest to remove.

He chuckles a few inches from your mouth right before gripping your fists that were trying to undress him. One fierce tug with his hands guiding yours, he rips off his own clothes, the buttons coming off loosely in all directions.

“Better?” He asks with a breathy voice that made you gush even worse. Goddamn this man. He didn’t lose shape at all. He still looked as godly as you remembered.

Instead of answering him, you aim for his crotch and unzip his pants. His erection springs free from his pants, hard with moisture leaking from its tip. “Yes, better now.”

You place one hand on his shoulder while the other guides his member to your drenched entrance. You let go of it when the tip is in and support yourself by putting your hand on his other shoulder as well.

Kuroo’s gaze is stuck on the spot connecting your bodies. He couldn’t take away his eyes on how your cunt slowly swallowed his length.

“What the fuck. You’re so tight.” It’s like he didn’t even prepare you just now.

You wince as you sink yourself lower. You look at him with hints of tears in the corner of your eyes from the discomfort. “There hasn’t been anyone since you.”

He grabs your ass and in one vicious thrust, hauling you down on him as he shoves his dick completely inside you.

“AHH!”

He pulls you in for a kiss as he lets you adjust to the feeling of being stuffed full. Never has someone made him feel good like you did. And it wasn’t just how you’re sitting on him right now with his cock inside you.

It was the fact that you didn’t let anybody touch you the way he’s doing to you right now. You were still his despite the months that passed by with no communication and no idea of seeing each other again. He didn’t think he’d be the possessive type, but knowing he was your last increased the exhilaration of your lovemaking.

Lovemaking? He sure wished that was the case for you, instead of just drunken sex with a former fuck buddy.

He caressed your shoulders, your waist, and down to your hips, waiting for you to give him a signal to move. But you don’t.

With your eyes closed, you release your lips from his and rest your forehead on his.

“I missed this,” you let out a heavy puff and add, “I missed you.”

The ache in your voice struck a cord on his yearning heart. He sweeps away the strands of hair stuck on your face.

“Hey,” he softly said.

When you open your eyes, he cups your cheek and ushers you to look at him.

“I missed you too, kitten.”

You give him a smile, the one that he revered so much, right before kissing him softly. Your mouths perfectly melded together, your lips nipping gently against each other until it escalated to a feverish clash of your tongues. Then, you lift your hips and take your time descending on him, making him aware once again how tight you are.

And by God, you feel divine.

“You’re so big,” you whimper.

“Hmm? But you’re taking me so well.”

After a few bobs, you have gotten used to him inside you and picked up the pace. He fought to keep his eye open despite the incredible urge to just close them and relish the way you’re bouncing on his dick. He wants to witness you lose yourself in carnal delight.

You pant heavily, the exhilaration, the fuzziness in your head, and the stress in your thighs all battling at the moment. Shortly, it was your muscles that made you cave in. You stop moving and bury your face on his neck. “I’m tired,” you weakly said.

He strokes your hair lovingly before moving both his huge hands on your ass. “:Grind for me, kitten,” he spoke right in your ear, making you moan at his command before heeding it. You wanted to rest for a while, but the first thrust of your hip electrified your whole body that you craved for more. His hands on your ass alleviated most of the tension from your thighs and helped you move against him faster. His tip was hitting you deeper than it did before. The position created friction for your clit as you grind on his crotch.

You push yourself up a bit so you have more control on your rhythm. Once you steady yourself, you move your hips in slow circles.

“Fuck, yes!” he groans as he whips his head back., but only for a moment as he lifts his head up and scandalously eyes your whole body. “Shit, you do me so well,” then captures a perk nipple on his mouth, sucking and licking on both buds alternately. He knew exactly how to drive you mad until it was pure delicious frenzy that took over your whole being.

“You feels so good. So gooooood—hhnnghh.” You shamelessly voice out, followed by a series of moans that grew louder and louder. It was equaled by his guttural groans that his throat produced.

Nothing else was distracting you anymore, only that increasing heat in your groin that you desperately chased. Suddenly, he stops you by gripping your ass forcefully.

“Slow down.” He kisses a spot in your chest. “I want this to last for us.”

You whine and softly shake your head. “I don’t want to. Please don’t stop. Fuck me until I cum already.”

That’s exactly what he wants to do, but it’s been a while for you. He wanted to extract as much pleasure as he can from you, given your current state, before giving in to his own needs.

“Please, Tetsu.”

The last string he’s been holding onto snapped. You just had to pull that move, knowing fully well how feral he’ll get. “You want to cum that bad, huh?” With his hands still clutching your cheeks, he starts moving you again until you were viciously rutting against him. “Then ride me like you mean it.”

“Haaaa. Fuuuuuuuccccck.” He could feel your body tensing up every thrust you make.

Your body glistens with sweat from the repeated roll of your hips toward his. He loves how dirty your mouth gets when you’re about to cum. The sound of your uninhibited, obscene moans goaded him closer to his release. But no way he’d go first. No way he’d miss the look in your face when you reach the peak of pleasure.

“That’s it, kitten. Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes.” He harshly bites one nipple while his one hand lands a firm spank on one ass cheek. “YES!!” Your movements get wilder and faster while you seem to forget that you have neighbors with how loud you are.

“I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum, Tetsu.” Your voice strained and a tad pitch higher.

“Do it. Milk my cock with your pussy.”

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! ”You wail as absolute bliss takes over your face, allowing him to take in how beautiful you looked as you seize that euphoric gratification. That was it for him. That was all he’s waiting for before he goes after his own climax.

Your ass would probably bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. He closes his eyes and lets himself get lost on the pleasure of you savagely riding him. The pleasure he’s been keeping at bay quickly travelled to his groin with extreme intensity.

“Holy fuck. HOLY FUCK.” He hauls your hips against him a few more times before he quickly takes out his cock at the highest point of his orgasm, shooting his load at your pelvis.

You throw your arms around him and dip your head in his neck. Only heavy breathes can be heard from the both of you. When you recover yours, your body completely relaxes against his.

You must’ve fallen asleep right after coming down from your high.

He sighs.

The sex was fucking great, but that’s all it was. Sex. Again. Nothing changed. He doesn’t regret it. He just wished things were different.

You snuggle closer to him until you’re satisfied. He moves his hands to wrap you in his embrace, making the most of what he could get from you tonight.

You seemed to like it based on the way you purred. You had no idea how his heart ached for this to last. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He plants a soft peck on your shoulders right before you murmur something next to his ear.

“I love you.”

Part 7 | Part 9 | m.list

A/N:

Food has been served. Enjoy!

Do you all remember when I said this was gonna be the last chapter? I was clowning myself. Apparently, I still had a lot going on in my smol brain. But the next one gonna be the last istg.

I have so many upcoming collabs from our server. I even have an Oikawa fic going on too but I’ll do my best to update as fast as I can. Bear with me pls :((

I love kuroo so much u guys have no idea

Did you notice I included a legit banner this time, right on the last two chapters haha I hate me

Taglist:

@lia-faerie-queen @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @arendizzle @phantomneko0 @ysatrap @babythotshq @newfriendjen @kurooscoochie

#kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

Text

Ghost Guitar Battle (2/3)

((Part 2 of I have no impulse control and squirreled on this random idea, ignoring those asks in my inbox. Don’t @ me this concept is fuckin awesome if only to me.))

Part 1 here.

Part 3 here.

Warnings: mentions of mind control.

...

12 days ago

“You what?”

Julie was pretty sure she was hallucinating, because this was something she had honestly never expected to happen.

Sure, there were days when she missed this certain ex-friend, but she’d never expected her to actually let go of her ego long enough for something like this to happen.

Carrie sighed before repeating herself, “I need your help.”

“Oh, we heard you,” Flynn said, “We’re just trying to think of reasons why we would ever help you with anything.”

“This doesn’t concern you, Flynn.”

“It concerns Julie, so it concerns me. Why would either of us ever help you with anything?”

“Because I’m not asking for myself,” Carrie snapped, “It’s about Nick.”

...what?

Nick and Carrie had broken up weeks ago. Why would she be asking for help involving him?

“What’s up with Nick?” Julie asked.

Simultaneously, Flynn laughed out, “We’re not helping you get him back.”

“It’s not about getting him back,” she insisted, “He’s acting weird. Like, really weird. And no matter what’s gone down between us recently, I’m worried about him.”

“Have you tried talking to him about this?” Julie asked, honestly unsure what was going on.

“No, because...” Carrie made a frustrated huff, “Because have you been paying attention to him at all recently? It’s like he’s a completely different person.”

By the look Flynn was getting in her eyes, it was starting to dawn on her that Carrie was being serious about this.

Julie, for one, still wasn’t sure what to think. Truthfully, she hadn’t been paying much attention to Nick lately. She’d been pretty preoccupied with the band, with the guys now able to give hugs and stuff and be seen whenever directly touching her. Plus, there was the new weirdness of figuring out if she and Luke wanted to try out some form of dating. Honestly, that uncertainty was creeping into their songwriting, which they’d still been doing a lot of.

In short, she’d been pretty busy.

Nick had been hovering around but barely starting a real conversation lately, which was weird now that she was thinking about it, but... was that just awkwardness left over from when Julie rejected him?

“How do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

“Well for one thing, he’s actually talking to me,” Carrie explained, “Which he really hasn’t done since the breakup at all. And for another, all he does is ask about you.”

Flynn rolled her eyes, “This is weird how?”

Carrie glared at her, “It’s weird because mostly, he keeps asking if I’m mad about Julie and the Phantoms upstaging Dirty Candi. Bringing up the fact that it happened twice, as if I’m supposed to hold some kind of major grudge.”

“Okay, that’s weird,” Julie admitted.

“You don’t know the half of it. As if that’s not suspicious enough, he asked if I found your band members suspicious. Like, sure, I knew you’d only hurt him cause you’ve got a crush on your guitarist, but—“

“What?!”

“Oh honey, it’s obvious,” Flynn admitted.

Julie really, really hoped it wasn’t and Flynn and Carrie just knew because they’d known her for a long time.

“Whatever,” Carrie said strategically, “Getting back on topic, what really tipped me off is... he asked about my dad. He asked how much I knew about his past, about bands he was in before he made it big, or whatever.”

Okay, that was a big red flag, Julie had to admit. Rule #1 of being friends with Carrie had always been to make sure she knew you weren’t in it because of her dad’s fame. Bringing up Trevor at all as anything other than a dad was off limits, and would have been even more so to Nick.

If he was acting that off, Julie felt a bit guilty for not noticing.

“Look, I don’t know what’s up with him,” Carrie admitted, “But I know something is. Besides just what he’s been talking about with me, he’s been playing jazz in music class. He carries himself differently when he walks. And if nothing else, have you both seriously not noticed how much not like himself he’s been dressing the last couple days? Nick doesn’t wear that many dark colors except for dance performances.”

Wait... there was something familiar in that description.

Reggie had done a good enough impression, according to the others, that Julie and Flynn had a good idea of the style of a certain dark color-wearing, jazz-loving ghost.

A ghost with magical powers they didn’t really know the limits of.

Flynn was clearly thinking the same thing, so there was only one last decision to make.

Unfortunately, Flynn would probably hate Julie’s call on this one, but Carrie had brought this to their attention in the first place and probably deserved to be kept in the loop.

“Are you free to meet at my house after school?”

Carrie nodded, but looked kind of surprised.

Flynn also looked surprised. And mildly horrified. Julie ignored that.

“Good. And fair warning, you’ll need to get real cool with some weird stuff real quick.”

...

Now...

“So you haven’t heard from your boyfriend at all?” Carrie asked, frowning.

Alex was pacing, which meant Julie had to pace with him so that Carlos, Carrie, and Flynn could keep seeing and hearing him.

Maybe that was for the best. She was pretty anxious, too.

“Well, Willie’s not exactly my boyfriend,” Alex mumbled, “We haven’t labeled anything. And plus, he’s risking everything every time he even sees me. That’s not—“

“Alex,” Luke said pointedly, despite the fact that half the room couldn’t hear him, “Get to the point.”

“Right. No. No, I haven’t heard from him. He said Caleb was possessing Nick and he was going to try to help him and that was it. It’s been a day. I’m getting worried. This is the first time he’s really ever stood up to Caleb openly. Who knows what could happen to him because of it?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Flynn said.

She didn’t sound very certain, but she was glancing over at Carlos like she was worried this would scare him.

Julie wasn’t that worried. She knew her little brother was tough. And that he actively sought out creepy cryptid videos on YouTube.

“I mean, he’s already dead, right?” Carlos said with a shrug, “So it’s not like he can kill him again.”

Luke raised his hand, beckoning Julie over to come and grab him so the other lifers in the room could hear him.

“No, he can’t kill him, but he can hurt him.”

“Yeah, death’s not the worst thing that can happen to a person, shockingly,” Alex muttered, the worry clear in his voice.

“Wait, what does this mean for Nick?” Carrie asked, “If Caleb’s controlling him, does that make him, like, partially dead?”

That was... that was a good point.

It was just starting to fully register that Nick was really in danger.

God, he didn’t deserve that. He was in danger and it was all because he’d gotten closer with Julie.

“I don’t know,” Alex admitted, “Willie made it sound like Caleb was... shoving him down. Like, Nick’s fighting it, but he’s losing.”

“But he’ll be okay, right?” Julie asked, “Once we figure out how to get Caleb out?”

“Willie said he’s still alive in there, and he’s okay, for now. But... but the longer he stays out of control, the harder it’ll be to get Caleb out of his head.”

Despite all the differences between them, Julie could see the same anxiety she was feeling reflected in the look Flynn and Carrie exchanged.

It had already been two weeks.

All the supernatural stuff aside, that had to be a nightmare, to be out of control of your own mind and body.

“He must be so scared in there,” Julie muttered.

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed, coming over to put a hand on her shoulder so he’d be visible, “And we lost our inside man, so we don’t even know what’s going on in there now.”

Luke smacked him upside the head, “Dude, not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Carlos perked up suddenly, which was... alarming.

Julie knew that look. It was the look he got right before he was about to say something that in all likelihood would cause trouble.

“Do you think we should call Ryan and Chad?” Carrie asked quietly.

“Oh, how would that go?” Flynn shot back, “Just, ‘sorry, your son is under the control of an evil ghost and we don’t know how to get him out?’ That’s a great thing to tell a parent.”

“How long do you think it’s going to take them to notice something’s up on their own, Flynn? Sure, Lizzie needs more attention than Nick does, but he’s still their son and it’s only a matter of time. Heck, they probably know something’s weird already and just don’t know why.”

“They probably just think he’s going through his emo phase. Why make them panic when there’s nothing they can do, anyway?”

“Wait,” Carlos said slowly, “We don’t know what’s going on in there... but what if we did?”

Carrie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, but we don’t anymore.”

“Not in the Hollywood Ghost Club,” he clarified, “In Nick’s head.”

“I applaud your out of the box thinking,” Reggie said, “But we don’t really have a way to do that.”

“We don’t. You do.”

Julie slowly started to realize what he was suggesting.

“What happens if one of you tries to go in and possess Nick while Caleb’s already in there?”

“What happens if you can drive him out?” Flynn realized, “You’d be able to just let Nick go.”

“Theoretically,” Alex admitted.

“It’s worth a try,” Carrie said hopefully.

“It’s risky,” Julie corrected, “What happens if you can’t push Caleb out? Would you just be stuck in there, too?”

Luke shrugged, “There’s no way to know... I’ll do it.”

“Whoa, Luke—“

“Reggie, we’re already dead,” Luke said firmly, “Nick’s not. He got pulled into this because of us. It’s our responsibility to get him out of it.”

“But why you specifically?” he argued, “Why—“

“Because unlike you and Alex, Nick and I have something in common.”

Julie wasn’t sure if he was talking about guitar or her.

Either way, he had a point. She didn’t like the idea of the risk, but she couldn’t see another option that possibly ended in getting everyone back.

“You said you resisted Caleb before,” she pointed out hesitantly, “Before our Orpheum performance. At least a little.”

“Yeah, exactly. Alex and Reggie, neither of you could do that. Going in to try to get Nick out, I’m the only one that stands a chance.”

They both clearly wanted to, and honestly, Julie did, too, but none of them argued.

“Willie said Nick had a chance if he ‘dug deep enough,’” Alex said quietly, “Something about needing to not hold anything back?”

Luke nodded, “I’ll tell him. And I’ll try to find out about Willie if I get the chance.”

They were all well aware how much risk this was taking, and even Carrie seemed hesitant to send Luke into it.

Still, Julie nodded as they made eye contact.

“Make sure you both come out of this.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie and the himbos #juke #willex #it’s just in the background tho #flarrie #if you squint #nick danforth evans #julie molina #carrie wilson #flynn jatp #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #carlos molina #ghost guitar battle #mind control tw #violet’s writing

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punksarahreese · 4 years

Text

Rupture | Marjan Marwani

Part 2 to Don’t want to (die)

CW: medical gore, surgery talk, mentions of dying

Word count: 1973

***

“Michelle?” Nancy had returned from her walk to get coffee for them, though Tim was nowhere in sight. Instead, Nancy was flanked by Owen and TK, who both looked quite worried. Of course they were, everyone was. She knew there was no sense telling them to go back and wait at the station, just as much as she knew the rest of the crew would arrive soon. Owen would hover, like he always does, and try to make sure everyone was remaining positive. Grace would arrive eventually, to check on Judd and everyone else. They would all remain in the waiting room at least until they had an update, just like they did when TK got shot.

“She’s in surgery,” she told Owen slowly, standing on shaky legs. Nancy was quick to help her, a gentle hand wrapping around her arm for added stability. Her blood pressure was probably low, paired with her rapid heart rate from the stress of the situation. No one commented on it and Michelle just shot Nancy a thankful look, accepting the disposable coffee cup she was handed. She stopped to take a sip of the caffeinated beverage, wincing at the acrid, lukewarm excuse for coffee.

“And her injuries?”

“Pretty major,” she admitted, “I was right about the ribs, 8th and 9th left ribs fractured severely.”

“Ouch,” TK mumbled, “Anything else?”

“The surgeon hasn’t come to update us yet but she had fluid in her abdomen and the likelihood of a splenic or renal rupture is really high...”

That had Owen sighing, his hand landing on TK’s good shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He was having trouble separating this from the times his son was in a similar situation, that was obvious. Even if it was different, Marjan was basically family and this was enough to scare the Hell out of all of them. Everything was so uncertain and it felt too surreal, fear palpable between them.

“Cap?” Mateo’s voice had them turning, drawing Owen’s attention away to the rest of the crew. Michelle took that as a moment to drop her brave face, with everyone else preoccupied as TK and his dad informed them of the situation. Nancy noticed her attitude change, she always did, and her arm was around her waist in seconds.

“You okay, Chelle?”

She shrugged, letting her lead her back to the chairs they had been occupying. She and Marjan had begun hanging out outside work recently and Michelle wouldn’t hesitate to call her a good friend. Everything about this was horrible, none of the crew should get hurt, but the fact that it was Marjan was somehow worse. She was so selfless and so fearless, ready to jump into danger both to help people and for the sheer excitement. She wanted to help, she always helped, and this wasn’t fair. Besides that, Michelle was just tired. She knew she would be preoccupied with answering everyone’s questions and checking on them all evening. She didn’t mind, of course, but it was overwhelming. Nancy knew that, she knew exactly how situations like this went and how much her captain internalized it.

“She’s strong,” Nancy reminded her gently as she nudged Michelle into her chair, “Just breathe.”

“I’m scared, Nanc,” her admission was barely audible but she still heard it, immediately taking Michelle’s shaking hand in hers. There was no need for a reply, nothing could be said to make this better. Nancy knew better than to waste her energy making up promises neither of them could be sure of, nor would she even think of doing that to Michelle. She didn’t need coddling or uncertain promises, she just needed an anchor in that moment. So they sat in silence instead, hands clasped together tightly, and it wasn’t perfect but it did help.

***

Two hours passed before any update was heard. Grace showed up eventually, immediately beelining for her husband like she always did. Still, Michelle watched as she stopped in front of Mateo, who looked to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Grace tapped on his arm gently and opened her arms without a word, drawing the young firefighter into a gentle embrace. Grace’s hugs were always so warm and maternal and Michelle was glad she was there. These firefighters never liked to show weakness or be vulnerable, so it was times like these where an outside support was needed. It was clear in the way Mateo thanked her quietly and smiled a little, albeit it didn’t really reach his eyes.

“You hang in there, sweetheart,” she replied and let him sit back down, finally going over to Judd. It was moments like this where Michelle realized just how much of a family the 126 had become and it made her so grateful. After the accident with the original crew she wasn’t sure Judd would be the same again, nor did she think the new crew would be able to get their feet on the ground in the beginning. Yet despite all the stress and change, they managed to find real trust and love in each other. As terrifying as this all was, they were lucky to have each other through it all.

It was still weird, though, because something felt wrong. It was worse than it was with TK, somehow, because they all felt Marjan’s absence so blatantly. Her love language was tiny acts of service, it was how she coped, and in a moment like this they noticed the difference. Marjan was usually wandering between everyone, handing out coffees and offering a reassuring touch or a smile. Without her familiar support and comfort, the waiting room felt even more cold and uncertain. It was never comfortable to be down a team member, especially in such a situation, but missing Marjan in particular was exceptionally hard.

The doors to the OR hall opened and the woman Michelle recognized as one of the trauma surgeons stepped out. She looked around the crowded waiting room for a moment before looking at Michelle, simply because she knew her from previous calls they had brought patients here from.

“You’re with Ms. Marwani?”

“Y-yes,” Michelle glanced back at everyone, “We all are.”

“She’s out of surgery. The rib fractures were severe, we needed to realign them with titanium plates to ensure proper healing. The shards from the break also ruptured her spleen and the damage was extensive, I’m afraid we had to remove it completely.”

“Will she be okay?” Mateo’s question was one they all silently echoed.

“She will be in the ICU until she wakes up, from there we will monitor her for as long as we see necessary. Her recovery will be extensive, I’m afraid, but she got out of surgery with minor complications.”

***

Michelle was allowed to see her after about another hour, though she was told visiting hours would be over quite soon. She didn’t mind, though, she just needed to see Marjan for herself. After she had passed out mid-sentence in the ambulance, Michelle had been absolutely terrified. She was shaking like a leaf when she had to intubate her, knowing in that moment exactly why doctors weren’t allowed to work on friends or family. It was hard to depersonalize, especially when Marjan’s life hung in the balance, and Nancy had had to take over the ambu bag when Michelle was shaking too hard.

From a medical standpoint it didn’t look good at all, especially not when Marjan’s stats dropped and her heart rate was uncontrollable. The portable ultrasound had confirmed fluid in the upper left quadrant, which was indicative of a major internal bleed. They got her to the hospital in time but seeing her unconscious and almost coding on that gurney had Michelle more terrified for a crew member than she had ever been.

The ICU was an uncomfortable place for Michelle. It reminded her too much of her dad’s last moments, the way she had held Iris and promised they would be okay. It was all too reminiscent of the times she spent waiting in those uncomfortable leather chairs for good news that would never come. She could almost hear her mother’s sobs from across the ICU, even years later. Still, she let the nurse lead her down the hall to a corner room, thanking her when she opened the sliding door for her and waved her in.

Marjan was unconscious as expected, no longer intubated but hooked up to essentially every other life-sustaining machine in the room. A quick glance at her heart monitor told her she was stable, but Michelle’s stomach still dropped at the sight. She looked impossibly pale, all the usually spunk and confidence sapped from her body. She didn’t stir when Michelle approached, the only signs of life being the telltale beeping of her heart monitor and the slight rise and fall of her chest.

“Marj,” she sighed as she pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the head of the bed, “What did you get yourself into?”

She didn’t sit down right away, though, because something was bothering her. Her eyes scanned the room before landing on what she was looking for. A plastic bag full of Marjan’s clothes that survived the accident and her other belongings. Michelle went over to the counter to grab them, rummaging through the thing in vague annoyance until she found what she was looking for.

“I know it was a sterility issue but really?” she grumbled as she walked back over to Marjan, “I’m sorry, I’ll make sure they leave it be, okay?”

She busied herself with carefully draping Marjan’s scarf back over her head, careful not to jostle her or obstruct any wires. She figured the other woman would appreciate that, especially since she was already in a vulnerable situation. Limited in knowledge and mobility in that moment, Michelle just settled for tucking it around her as best she could, hoping it would at least make her feel more secure if she woke up with any staff or the crew around.

“There,” she sat down when she was content, studying her friend’s unmoving face for a moment. It still felt so surreal, the whole thing, but this helped a little. She was unconscious and her recovery would be extensive, it would be months before she could even step foot in a firetruck again, but she was alive. In that moment, that’s what made Michelle feel a bit more grounded. She tried to ignore the fact that there was a large plastic tube sticking out from her abdomen to drain excess fluid from her splenectomy, not to mention the fact that Marjan would be way more susceptible to infection until her other organs could take over her spleen’s job. They would cross that bridge when they got there, she figured, but Marjan being alive was the most important thing.

Michelle shifted a little in the stiff chair, uncomfortable with the way her uniform had begun to chafe her skin. Carlos had offered her a ride home when he was leaving with TK but she had declined, citing the fact that she wanted to stay with Marjan a bit more. He had looked at her with a sad expression, yet simply offered his best friend another reassuring hug before taking TK’s hand to leave. Everyone else had gone home because visiting hours would end soon anyway, planning to come back the next day to check on Marjan. Michelle couldn’t bring herself to leave, though, as much as she wanted to change out of her uniform and sleep away the stress of the day.

Marjan needed someone, especially right then, and the least she could do was be there for her. Maybe that’s what prompted Michelle to take her cold hand in her own, holding it close in an attempt to warm up her poorly oxygenated skin. She held onto her tightly, something in her brain screaming that she needed to. It was as if Michelle thought Marjan would disappear if she let go of her after that, which only prompted her to keep a careful hold on her limp hand.

“I’ve got you, Marj,” she murmured, though maybe it was for herself when she added, “You’re not going anywhere, okay?”

#don’t like the ending but anyway #I know I said I was on an angst break but #a random spark of inspiration made me do it #forgive me <3 #also idk why my brain decided this was Marchelle centric because they’re Not Together but y’know #it be like that #911 ls #911 lone star #marjan marwani #michelle blake #userglow #userthai #usermaximus #userjillian #tuserjamie #idk who else to tag lmao but notice me lone star stans <3

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meigh-day · 4 years

Text

Obligation (Tendou x Reader) - Part 16

———————————————————–

Title: Obligation

Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader

Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters

Includes: Swearing, Guns, Knives, Excessive Violence, Blood, Torture, Threats of rape

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.7k

Previous Next

———————————————————–

For you, the night passed in a blur as your consciousness drifted in and out. The stress and anxiety of the last 24 hours finally catching up with your poor battered body. If it had been anyone else, you might have struggled on until the end, but you were with Tendou and the comfort and warmth you'd once felt with him returned in a flash, at least for the moment. He had carried you carefully through the building, chest to chest so he could keep his eyes on you. Not that he was worried about running into anyone, the members of Seijoh who had been around had been rounded up or killed, while a few others had turned tail and ran. What worried him was you. It had been almost two days since he had last seen you, the whole time you were gone all he could think about were the ugly things he had said to you. Even when he had said them, despite his anger, he hadn't meant a single one of them. Tendou cared about you, more than he had been ready to admit, but the regret he'd felt after realizing he had been mistaken, forced him to understand his own feelings. But before he could even try and apologize, you were gone. Driven away by his own callous actions. Deep down he knew it was his fault for the state you were in now. You'd been beaten, tortured and violated, all because he had been too dense to look for the truth.

Looking back on it now, he really couldn't comprehend how he could have let his mind become so clouded by his insecurities. How could he have thought you would ever be anything but sincere? You had always met him with a smile, a bright light in your eyes. How could he have ever thought you could fake such warmth? In all the time he had known you, even if it was short, you'd never treated him like a monster, or held him at arms length. You sought him out, made it a point to try and get to know him, hell, you laughed at his weird jokes. The red-head let out a soft sigh, gently wrapping his other arm around your back and holding you just a little closer. A small hum of contentment breathed from your lips as he pressed you further against his firm chest, his eyes widened slightly, a tremble in his lips as he smiled. "I'm so sorry Y/N.." He tilted his head, cheek resting ever so gently against your head as he whispered out his apology. "I'll say it again when you wake up."

Flashes of light, of faces full of concern, of ruby eyes watching over you, those were the only things your foggy mind could recollect as your eyes opened. The room was dark and unfamiliar, you didn't know where you were so in reaction to the foreign space, you panic. Were you still being help captive? Why had they put you in a bed? The last thing you clearly remembered was a head of blonde hair and a cruel smile. In a flash you are up and on your feet, heart racing as you attempt to find a light or door. You make it about two steps before your shaky legs buckle, dropping you into a pile on the floor. On the way down you take out, what you assume to be a little nightstand, all the objects atop it careening to the floor and making more noise than you would have liked, a.k.a. any. Footsteps could be heard approaching, stopping in front of the door as you try to scramble across the floor. Light breaks into the room as the door slowly swings inward, you form now illuminated.

"What the hell is going on in here?" A prickly voice calls out from the doorway. An older gentleman steps into the room, flicking the light on in the process. The second hand light from the hallway had been a little much for you eyes but now with the lights on in the room your eyes burned, shutting at the intense glow. "Ah, I see your finally awake." Through squinted eyes and lashes you start to pick out some of the mans features. He had buzzed dark hair and glasses perched on the bridge of his crooked nose. He moved further into the room, crouching in front of you. "You shouldn't be out of bed yet miss." The tone he used when addressing you was far gentler now that he could see you were okay. He reaches a hand out, attempting to help you back to your feet. "Here let me he--" You flinch at the gesture, panic and fear plain in your eyes and the way you try to huddle in on yourself, to hide, made it even more overt. "Hey now, what's wro---"

"Give her some space Saito!" A familiar voice commanded from the doorway causing you to open your eyes and for Saito to retract his hand. Tendou moved into the room, surveying the mess that you had made as he approached you. If he was here, then that must mean you were safe, right? Your eyes flit around the room before landing back on the worried looking red-head before you. What if this was just a cruel trick your mind was playing on you? What if this was all a dream or a vivid hallucination? Those thoughts alone doused the embers of hope that had been starting to burn. In its absence all you could feel was despair, the likelihood of this being all a fabrication cemented further by the gentle expression on Tendou's face as he crouched down in front of you. You had wanted so badly for him to look at you this way, his expression so full of concern and affection. The last words you remembered him saying ringing in your ears, the callous scowl on his face when he'd said them, it was such a stark contrast from the look he had now. Tears immediately began to well in your eyes out of frustration, body shaking as you pressed your face into your hands. You would have given anything to have him look at you like this for real, now all you wanted was to just wake up, anything to stop your heart from aching the way it did when you looked in his eyes.

"Y/N... What's wrong? Are you in pain?" Tendou reached out towards you but as soon as his fingers came into contact with your shoulders you let out a sob, causing him to jerk back.

"This isn't fair." You whimpered out, only making yourself cry harder. Saito quietly exited the room, closing the door on his way out. Confusion prickled at Satori's expression as he watched you for a moment, he wasn't sure exactly why you were so distraught right now. Surely you were happy to be home, right? Then a thought struck him, it was because of him, extremely likely after what had happened only a couple of days ago. He wouldn't blame you at all for feeling distressed when faced with the monster who had broken your poor sweet heart. Even so, he needed to confirm it for himself. "What isn't fair?"

The question had you raising your face until only your red rimmed eyes peek over your fingertips. Dream Tendou seemed genuinely curious to know what was on your mind, legitimate worry written all over his face while his fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and hold you. You swallow thickly, calming yourself enough to attempt a reply. "This. You. I wish it was real..." Another sob shook you as more tears streamed down your face, all the while you kept whispering to yourself to wake up.

Tendou stilled a moment, even in your dreams he was making you cry, he felt heart breaking at the sight. He reached out once again, this time wrapping his arms around you as he dropped into a seated position, pulling you with him onto his lap. He held you close and let you cry, all the while doing whatever he could to try and bring you some comfort. He rubbed your back and the side of your arm, played with your hair and smoothed it back from your face while whispering gentle reassurances to you. Slowly but surely, it seemed to have a bit of an affect, gradually your tears slowed to a stop, leaving you a sniffling, splotchy-faced, mess in his lap.

"Feeling a bit better now?" He asked quietly, a hand rubbing calmly up and down your spine. You gave a small nod despite not really feeling all that great. The tears had stopped all thanks to his thoughtful efforts, but you still felt sad. This wonderful dream was just a bitter reminder of what could have been, you heart grieved for the loss despite knowing you never had this to begin with. "Hey." Tendou murmured quietly as he placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to him. "I'm not sure if this will make you feel better or worse, but this isn't a dream." He looked into your eyes and could see uncertainty reflected back. Careful to avoid any bruises, the finger under your chin slid up your jaw, joined by the rest of his fingers as they drifted across your cheek, cupping it as he looked down at you with such sweet admiration. "I have a lot to make up for, and even more things to say, but let me start by showing you how real I am." Last time hesitation had cost him, now that he had you back in his arms he wasn't going to waste another moment. Tendou brought his other hand up, both now holding your face so gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had wet your cheeks. Gradually he began to lean down, his intention clear, one look or word from you would have halted his course but you remained motionless in his arms. His eyes slid closed at the last moment as your lips met.

#tendou x reader #tendou #tendou satori #tendou mafia #haikyuu #haikyuu mafia

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vegetalass · 4 years

Note

if you dont mind, maybe some cute fluff of RDR2 boys getting ready for a first date with their s/o? 🥰

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but yes, anything for u!! I hope u enjoy!!

long post ahead!

Arthur

The fact that Arthur even agreed to a date in the first place is a little weird

He thinks that just asking if you want to be a couple is enough

The moment you start dating he turns into an old man who thinks you’ve been married for years

It’s like... Arthur… Buddy… It’s been like two weeks, bruv

That’s why you have to be the one to ask him to go on a date, because then there’s no way he’d be able to say no

He’s not against them, but in his mind, it’s just that in his mind, dates are things that people like him Do Not do

Mostly because he’s tried them in the past and either ended up disappointing someone or being disappointed

Besides, you already know that you have fun with each other so it’s not like you need to do anything special

WRONG!!!

Charles probably asks him if he’s nervous and he’s laughs because of course he’s not

But the moment he wakes up on the day of the date… Oh Lord…

He was totally chill and relaxed about it up until this point, and it’s literally only then that he starts to panic

Mostly just because he begins to second doubt himself

And not just himself but everything

Maybe you won’t like the shirt he picked out... Or maybe you won’t like his face shaved... Or maybe you don’t want to be seen in public with him...

The list is endless

Eventually, he gets so worked up that he has to call Charles, who reminds him that it’s been fine up until that point, and it’s not like you would ask him to go on a date or even admit to liking him back if you DIDN’T want to go out with him… So, what’s his problem?

He then has to spend like 3 hours in the bathroom trying to make himself look presentable

Most of this time is spent deciding whether or not he needs to shave

(Yes, he does)

And if he should wear the blue or red shirt

Or… Maybe the white one

He spends a long time picking out flowers because he thinks most of them are either too gaudy or not gaudy enough

He didn’t have the forethought to order them in advance, though

He’s still a little nervous when he does finally pick you up, but seeing how happy you are to just to be out with him soothes his worries one hundred times over

And if you kiss him on the way home, he considers that your first REAL kiss

Nothing else even compared

How well does he shower before getting ready? - He doesn’t want to disappoint you in any way, so he scrubs himself real good. 10/10

John

Very similar to Arthur in how he feels about dates

He thinks they’re fine and great… But doesn’t really see why he should participate in them

Especially since every time he tried to go on ones with Abigail, something would go wrong

And after Jack, she honestly probably just didn’t want to go on them anymore

Which was 100% fine with him because they’re both pretty busy people

That being said, with you it’s a little different

He still doesn’t really care much about the actual date part, but he also doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers the way Abigail did

He wants you to know that you’re loved and valued in the beginning of the relationship before it’s too late to tell you

That’s why it’s his idea to suggest the date

He probably says something like, “Hey…… Uh…… Now that we’re….. You know….. *cough*…….. Would you want to……… Possibly………. Maybe………”

Cue you sitting there like ??????

If you tell him that he doesn’t need to go to the effort of taking you out, he’s like “Uh, Yes I Do! >:(“

Even if you never expected him to in the first place

Basically because you assumed being with him would be pretty lowkey

But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try and put the work in

Honestly, probably doesn’t know if he should be nervous or not

Realistically, he thinks that he should be, but for some reason, can’t muster up the nerves and is overall pretty chill about it

But that doesn’t mean getting ready for the date itself is any less of an Experience (TM)

Probably spends the whole day thinking “Date tonight… You have a date tonight…. First date IS TODAY…. Don’t forget to get ready….. THERE’S A DATE” that he does end up getting ready late

Suddenly it’s 4PM and he’s like *squidward opening eyes meme*

He does manage to get ready in time, though

Despite arriving with his shirt half buttoned and the flowers slightly wilted

It makes you laugh to see him trying so hard to be a good boyfriend

Just because I love John with his haircut… Yes, he gets a haircut before the date

He did this before the day of, though

And lowkey you probably don’t recognize him at first

This time, John is the one who’s like ??????

How well does he shower before getting ready? - A solid shower. Nothing to really complain about. 7/10

Charles

You’ve probably been dating for two days and he’s already The Best Boyfriend in the Entire World

He’s always trying to make any time you spend together special so dates just… aren’t at the top of his list

Charles is like… “A date??? Every day is a date with you…”

Literally I have to go cry about this now because he’s too sweet

Regardless, he does want to take you out, so of course the first time is going to be important!

He’s not so much nervous about going on the date as he is about you enjoying yourself on it, so the preparation itself is pretty important

The night before, he runs through everything in his head to make sure all his plans seem solid

And when he wakes up, starts getting ready immediately just to make sure everything goes smoothly

Eats a healthy breakfast, sends you a text, picks up flowers, etc.

It’s not a busy day, but he likes not having to rush

Doesn’t have a problem choosing an outfit because he doesn’t think it’s that important

He’s not going to show up in pajamas, but he’s not going to go overboard thinking about what he should wear

His only criteria for it is that it’s appropriate for the situation and he it suits him

(This is also good because it means that you don’t have to try very hard for him to think you look good in whatever you end up wearing, too)

When he’s finally ready to pick you up, he hypes himself up in the mirror just to get rid of any last minute jitters that he may be feeling

For the most part, he’s really calm and hides his nerves pretty well, but that doesn’t mean you don’t give him butterflies

And he just wants your first date to be memorable

The flowers he brings you are specially ordered from the local florist

And he writes a cute note to go with them

How well does he shower before getting ready? - He takes a good, respectable shower. 8/10

Micah

Honestly, the likelihood of Micah ever having been on a date before is very small

He knows that they’re a thing that couples do but probably thinks everyone’s descriptions of them are exaggerated or silly

Why would he need to take you on a date if you already know that he likes you since he asked you out in the first place…?

Isn’t being nice to you enough?

That’s why you have to be the one to suggest going on a date, and even then, he probably scoffs or laughs at the idea

But that doesn’t mean the suggestion doesn’t haunt him

Goes to bed every night and is like… “Maybe… we should be going on dates?”

UH, YEA?

Eventually it gets to the point where he feels… G-g-guilty almost

Probably mentioned the fact that you brought up going on a date to Dutch and he was like, “You mean you haven’t had one yet?”

Oops.

So then he immediately sets one up

And feels bad that he didn’t do it sooner when he sees how happy you are when he asks

Ironically, he ends up getting super excited for the date, too

Mostly because he’s realizes that he’s just happy someone agreed to go out with him in the first place and actually wants to do things with him

It’s a pretty unusual feeling for him, but definitely not bad

This doesn’t mean that he will wear anything special or buy you flowers, though

He’s not getting that sappy

How well does he shower before getting ready? - He doesn’t. 0/10

He’s not dirty or anything though, he just doesn’t think he needs to take one

Dutch

Honestly, the only reason you’re dating is probably because he asked you out on a date

It was a calculated move on his part because he knew you already liked him, but still…

He’s someone who takes things like dates very seriously

Even if they are a rare occasion due to how busy he is

He’s like a little kid with how excited he gets just thinking about it

And he definitely spares no expenses when planning it

Even if you told him that he didn’t need to do anything special, he wouldn’t listen

Hosea gets tired of him talking about it and asking if his plans seem alright

He’s like, “Dutch, I’ve told you no on the limo five times already”

And still Dutch is like “Mmmmmm, are you sure, though?”

Extravagances aside, he is really just trying to make you happy and declare his love for you

Especially since he doesn’t know how often he’ll be able to in the future

And since he wants you to have at least a few fond memories of him in case something happens to him

But that’s just in case, right?

On the day of the date, from the moment he wakes up, he’s thinking about it

Keeps checking his watch to make sure he has enough time to get ready

And is surprised when only 20 minutes have gone by since the last time he checked

Spends an hour just trying to make sure his hair looks right

And probably cycles through four different shirts a bunch of times just because he can’t decide

Sends a text to Hosea with 4 different selfies asking which is best

Gets left on read

Translation: All of them look fine

Though he did end up deciding against the limo, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t show up ready to show you off

Buys you the biggest bouquet he can find

You end up having to hold it in both arms

How well does he shower before getting ready? - He showers but is so excited that it’s not as thorough as it could’ve been. 6/10

Kieran

The date itself is kind of a mutual idea

The relationship probably isn’t even official yet despite the fact that you’re already 100% exclusive

A silent agreement, of sorts

You probably end up giving him some sort of hint that you “wouldn’t mind doing something with him, sometime...” and he takes it from there

Dates are something that he thought he’d never have to worry about

Mostly because he associates them with people who are a lot different from him

But also because he thought that he’d never really have the chance to meet someone he’d want to start a serious relationship with

Hence why he’s so new to the whole situation, but still determined to change this

He wants to go one dates like the ones he’s always heard about

He’s both excited and worried because…

1. This means that you do, in fact like him back, but…

2. He could also fuck everything up

Doesn’t sleep at all the night before

Spends the entire night running through every scenario of what could happen

Also thinking about how you met and how lucky he is to be with you

He had to plan his outfit in advance because he needed a lot of time to figure out how to balance casual wear with something date worthy

But, with the outfit out of the way, he manages to get ready pretty quickly and ends up just sitting around waiting to leave

Spends the extra time praying that he didn’t choose the wrong thing to wear

He’s so cute… Twiddling his thumbs and everything

Sends you a cute “On my way!” text with one of those cute dancing stickers

His flower choice is a single rose tied up with a ribbon

And he nearly faints when you kiss his cheek in thanks

How well does he shower before getting ready? - He tries really hard to take a good one. 8/10

Javier

Dates are very important to him

To him, they signify dedication and compassion

And overall, just that he’s willing and wants to put in the work to show you that he cares

That’s why he asks you out on a real date the moment you become official

He’s super excited because it’s not everyday that you get to go on a FIRST date with someone

Which is why he’s also a meticulous planner

It’s not just about making you happy, but impressing you and proving (mostly to himself) that he’s a good lover

Even if he knows that you wouldn’t mind something more lowkey

It’s just that whatever you do has to be special

He’s nervous, not because he’s afraid, but because he wants things to go as well as they possibly could

Out of everyone, spends the most time thinking about what he’s going to wear

Tries to plan ahead of time but still hasn’t made any final decisions on the day of the date, either

Has to try things on to be certain if he likes them or not

And when he’s finally decided, he still needs to shave and to fix his hair

It’s a long day to say the least

And when he finally picks you up, brings you an entire bouquet of roses

When you have to bury your face in them to hide your blush, his heart swells with pride

And yes, he thinks that you’re the best dressed couple anyone’s probably ever seen

How well does he shower before getting ready? - His showers are always of the finest quality. 10/10

Sean

The moment he thinks you’ve started liking him back, he starts thinking about what your first real date should be like

And the moment you start dating for real, he has to make his thoughts (*cough* dreams*) a reality

Dates are definitely something he has some experience with

Even if he hasn’t been on a crazy amount of them… He definitely thinks about them a lot

Deep down, under all his womanizing tendencies, he’s probably a hopeless romantic

And dates are the perfect way to show someone that you care about them

Honestly probably doesn’t give two craps about what he wears or how he looks

The only reason he even bothers to look presentable is because he doesn’t want to ruin anything by showing up in something ridiculous

But he definitely doesn’t spend any extra time choosing an outfit than he has to

This is good though because it means he also doesn’t care about what you showed up looking like, either

To him, all that matters is that your first date is enjoyable

And you both end up looking fine, anyway

(Well, you look a little better than him, but in his eyes, that’s always the case)

He’s so excited that he calls you to tell you that he’s on the way

The way that you laugh when you pick up has him speeding to your house

Gives you the biggest, more beautiful flowers that he can find

They’re not at large as Dutch’s, but a lot more vibrant

How well does he shower before getting ready? - It’s his usual, totally average and normal shower, if not a little quicker. 5/10

#rdr2 #rdr2 headcanons #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #okay bye yall im gonna do spanish homework now #but i'm so excited to do the requests i have left!!!#thank u for sending them yall!!#also i hOPE U ENJOY I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS #writingandsins #also this is everyone official announcement that i will not be writing hosea romance unless requested #hes my peepaw i just cant do it #i tried and i cant #sorry hehe!#also for some reason when i answer asks the posts dont show up in the tags so reblobs mean a lot #no pressure tho!#im thinking abt maybe just answering asks in new posts but i really dont want to do that #since it also messes with the format too #anyway if u have any thoughts or ideas u can totally let me know #im still trying to think abt what to do abt this #i think its a glitch or due to the length of them LOL

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crowleyellestair · 4 years

Note

Oh please post the other things you wrote for the accidental hit, I’d hate for you to go through all that work just to not post them

AN// Well, Im glad you liked the first one : ) Here’s a couple others!

Prompt: What would happen if Geralt accidentally happened to hit the reader

When the first touch came, Geralt hadn’t reacted. He thought it best to act completely docile. He might have lost most of his senses to whatever potions he had been forced to take, but he still had his wits about him.

The witcher knew he was in a cell, as the first time ‘round they had only taken his sense of smell. It seemed he was to be on display. Before his captors noticed, he saw how lush the small area he was confined to was. He could also hear others prattling around in rooms next to him. The face paced heartbeats of other humanoid beings, but most likely creatures of different elk. The people who had taken him must have been used to the effects, as the lithe woman who frequented his bars knew right away upon looking into his eyes that he was fully functional. The next to go was his hearing. It was a shame it wasn’t taste, as the slop they fed him was rejuvenating, but was the worst thing to ever grace his tongue. It had been about a week, he guessed since he was captured. A day or two since the only thing he could do was feel his surroundings.

The surprise he felt when hands gently touched him covered only an inkling of anger. It wasn’t borne out of self-pity of a witcher being caught, nor was it because they’ve tried to reduce him to nothing. No. It was because he was taken on the way back to camp. It had been a ten-day contract keeping him from Y/n. Wonderful, gorgeous Y/n, who always waited patiently for his return. Foolishly, his love blinded him, and he started to promise her he would return. Now, he’d be eating sludge for the rest of his days, while also breaking a promise to the most important person in his life. A century of dull skies with the only burst of light being her, and now he’s ruined it. If he had made it back, would she ever forgive him? Of course, that was only if she was okay to begin with. Geralt trusted her sense of survival, and he’d spent hours trying to teach her important skills, but he doesn’t trust the world around them. Y/n would be fine, but there are countless external factors that could harm her. She was in the woods with the bard for ten days as it was. It was already pushing the limits.

Geralt had decided at the beginning of this ordeal that he wouldn’t live through this for himself. He would get free for her. Even if she was upset that he left her, she deserves a spoken apology. Jaskier had deserved one on the mountains, and he wasted so much time denying that fact. It was only recently that the man came back into his life, and even if Y/n didn’t remain, she shouldn’t live with anger she didn’t need.

His suspicions of being on display went through the window when the slightly calloused hands touched him, but it hadn’t mattered. Act docile, and wait till he can feel something important. What is important? He doesn’t know yet, but he has something to fight for. He’ll get out. He tried his damndest to not flinch when those hands cupped his cheeks, and turned him- inspected him. Geralt remembered seating himself on the far end of the bed, which means who ever was there with him must be in the actual cell. He felt the breath of whomever it was push against his skin, alluding to someone out of breath, or emotionally rampant. Prickles of hair ends could be felt on his arm as the person tried in vain to throw in over their shoulders. Once he felt another pair of hands, with callused finger tips, he struck.

The heel of his palm went against the nose of the first person, and they fell out from under his arm. The second scribbled his hands against his chest and back, trying to find their grip. Geralt was confused with how unorganized this whole operation was. How did they get him there in the first place with this? If these weren’t the same people, how could the leaders let such unprotected weaklings get close? Unless, of course, he was meant to hurt them. The thought slowed him down, but he was still on the defensive. The hands on his chest and back stopped as he did, only slightly pushing him against the bed. As if suggesting he should calm down. The long fingers reminded him of his old friend, but that only set him more on edge. Geralt felt a bottle touch his lower lip, and he started to move, until stunned into one spot. A familiar flick against his nose shocked him, and a hand from before grabbed his. The size of the hand was the same as Y/n’s, the calluses becoming familiar. The small, squarish vial was one of his, and it narrowed the options. Joy soared through him as one of the options from his chest was White Honey. If anyone knew what to give Geralt immediately, it would be Y/n. He remembered the first time he crawled back to her half-conscious, unable to instruct her. He heard her frantic voice think out loud, and it echoed through him now.

‘White Honey first to flush, then Swallow to save.’

He brought the bottle to his lips and downed it as quick as possible. He handed the vial back as ringing started to throb through his skull. Y/n’s hand brought his back to hers, which now held swallow, but didn’t give it to him directly. Her wit was something he admired about her, and this was making his heart soar with pride. Instead of forcing him to take it, she was waiting. She would have no idea when the toxins would be flushed enough for him to take the new potion. Take it too fast, and the Honey would flush that too.

Pain rippled through him, everything invading his senses at once, but both Y/n and what he assumes is Jaskier hold him. The first thing he wished to see was Y/n, safe, yet her nose looked crooked and blood poured past her chin. A bright smile spread, red teeth flashing past her lips once she saw recognition in his eyes. Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and he hugged back, seeing the smiling visage of his bard. The lute player’s hand lightly cupped the back of the witchers head before walking out of the bars, looking around. Geralt pushed her away slightly to take in her apparent broken nose, the realization setting in once he remembered his escape movements. He was the one to break her nose.

His fear must have been apparent as her smile dropped, and her hands cupped his cheeks once more.

“Hey, it’s okay. I thought you were out of it. I should have checked further.”

“I should have recognized your hands.”

“Darling, you had no senses other than touch. I’m sure it would be difficult. Plus, you had no idea we were coming.” Geralt noticed his potions carry-bag slung over her shoulder. He reached in, grabbing the bandages, slowly dabbing around her nose. Y/n chuckled lightly before stopping his hand. “You’re kind, but we need to get out first.” The witcher scolded himself, as he was so focused at what was in front of him, that he didn’t evaluate if they were safe or not, and the likelihood is not. He didn’t know what he was- could do to make up for it, but he’d do anything for Y/n once they got far from wherever they were.

It was the third winter at Kaer Morhen, and Y/n was used to the routine. It was Friday, which meant that Geralt would stay late with his brothers drinking, and she would stay in their room. There had been too many instances of Lambert being upset by her intrusion on ‘guys night’, so she happily lounged in the large bed.

Tonight, however, had been very cold. Geralt was blessed with the best room out of the three younger witchers, though it was a weird layout. The hearth and chimney were on the same wall as the door, which happened to be the shortest walls of the abnormal, pentagonal room. One wall was a large door to a balcony, though usually the doors somehow kept the cold away. It seemed that this night might be a different story, though. What motivated her to curl up between the door and the fireplace was the need for warmth and a clear, relaxed mind. If she would have thought over the possible outcomes of sitting behind the door, she would have thought of something else. However, after some mindless sitting, she found that this was the warmest spot.

Y/n hadn’t a clue how much time had passed, or when she fell asleep, but she did know that the immense pain in her nose is what woke her. Her eyes snapped open to find a worried Geralt leaning over her, eyes full of fear, but a shaky, grin-less laugh. She could tell the effects of Lambert’s White Gull brew was still making him tipsy, so she doesn’t fault him for the laughing.

His hands went up to her cheeks, but his thumb pressed to hard near her nose, and her quiet, painful squeak made him recoil faster than she had ever seen. When she gritted out that it was okay, he practically fell on her in a bear hug, giving out broken apologies. Her own hand flew to her nose, and when she couldn’t see any blood, she knew she was fine. It took a while to convince him she was fine, and to get them both in bed. Once they were situated, Geralt continued to drunkenly nuzzle her neck and wrap himself like a vice around her. Despite her foolish mistake and his drunkenness, the hugs were nice. It was just a hint of what would happen tomorrow night when she would force him to cuddle sober and pain free.

Jaskier’s laugh echoed through the small clearing in the forest where they had set their camp up the night prior.

“I leave for one bath and you two finally sort thins out without an audience. That’s disappointing.” His amused tone made Y/n roll her eyes from her spot on her bed roll. An annoyed grunt could be heard from Geralt, who was frantically searching through his saddle bag. When he found the cold waterskin, he walked to Y/n, gently handing it to her. He plopped down next to her as she brought it to her swollen bottom lip, and watched as she winced. When a scandalized gasp left the bard, Geralt shook his head, but kept his focus on the woman before him.

“Shut it, bard. It’s not what it looks like.” Jaskier’s hands flew to his hips, towel still laying over his head as he was previously rubbing it dry.

“What it looks like, Geralt, is that you are a brute in bed. Be gentle, my friend, gentle. You’ll get much farther next time if you remember that simple thing.” Cornflower blue eyes darted to their female companion as she huffed.

“Geralt was having a nightmare, and I tried to wake him up gently. He got up fast, I was too close, and his head collided with my lip. It hit my teeth, that is why it’s swollen.” The bard also plopped onto his bedroll, looking at the embarrassed witcher. His gaze darted back to her as his brow raised.

“I told you that you need to use a stick-.”

“He’s not an actual wolf, Jaskier. It was an accident, it’s fine.” And it was, truly. Hell, the woman felt bad as he could see the internal war happening on the witcher’s face over his guilt. When both men said ‘no it’s not’ in unison, however, she huffed and fell back against her roll. She knew Jaskier was teasing the man, but he wasn’t helping Geralt steer clear of self-hatred, which would mess up the hard work she had put into it so far.

#witcher imagine #witcher x reader #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt x y/n

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