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chvoswxtch · 2 years

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like a wrecking ball

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank finished a job earlier than anticipated, and he's finally coming home to you.

warnings: cursing, frank being a bit of a softie (my heart needed this warning lmao), explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this fic was inspired by the song like a wrecking ball by eric church. it came on one of my spotify mixes a while back and it instantly made me think of frankie and put this idea in my head. idk what it is about frankie, like he makes me such a whore but also so soft so...here's a combo of both. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

I, I been gone, I been gone too long

Singin' my songs on the road

Another town, one more show

And I'm comin' home

Frank hated being away from you. He hated the thought of you at home by yourself, sleeping alone every night, if you did sleep at all when your anxiety wasn’t gnawing at your stomach about his safety. He hated that he was constantly running off to protect other people when the only person he really gave a shit about protecting was you. Frank knew you weren’t defenseless by any means. He saw to that personally. You knew where every gun and knife was stashed, and he had taught you how to use them until he was satisfied with your skill. He taught you self defense, how and where to hit, quickest exit points in the house. There were plenty of cameras and silent alarms around the perimeter of the house so he could check on you from wherever he was, but it did nothing to dull his paranoia, and it would have him driving seventeen hours straight just to make it back home to you.

Frank hated sleeping without you. He detested the motel beds and their scratchy sheets, worn springs of the mattress digging into his tired body, the scent of stale cigarettes and residual dust. There was a time when he hardly noticed shit like that. A room was a room, and a bed was a bed. Hell, it was better than sleeping in the van. But that was before you. Now he missed the feeling of you curled up into his side or using his chest as a pillow, your hands grabbing onto him like a lifeline every night, your silk skin and green apple scented shampoo keeping his nightmares at bay. He hated that he was missing out on all the little moments he looked forward to, and wasn’t there to hear you talk about your day, or watch you dance around the kitchen as you cooked. God, he missed your cooking. He missed you. He made a promise to call once a day, but hearing your voice only on the other end of the phone wasn’t nearly enough to soothe the ache and guilt he felt in his chest.

Frank hated the look on your face everytime he had to leave. You never complained, or said anything about how you truly felt. You always told him you understood, that this is who he was, and you accepted it. The only thing you ever asked of him was to make it home to you. But he could see the truth in your eyes as you tried to hide the glimmer of longing building up on your waterline. He could feel the desperation as you clung to him a little tighter, kissed him that much deeper, and let your fingers linger in his palm until he finally reluctantly let go. But he also hated the look on your face when he did come home sometimes after particularly bad runs. Sometimes he would come home a day or two late, just to give his wounds some borrowed time to heal before he had to face you. He would intentionally come home when it was dark, keep the lights off, and take you from behind slowly so you couldn’t see him, but could feel him and that he was home. He couldn’t hide from you forever, he knew that. But he just needed a couple of hours before he had to see that broken look on your face at the aftermath of his choices.

But this time hadn’t been so bad. Frank had finished the job quicker than anticipated, and relatively uninjured, and he was coming home to you.

Don't give a damn what these keys are for

I'm gonna knock down that front door and,

I'm gonna find out what that house is made of

It's been too many nights since it's felt us make love

It had been Frank’s personal mission to christen every square inch of the house when you moved in. Not that you two hadn’t broken in certain rooms and spots before, but that was different. That was before you had turned Frank’s house into a real home, one that you now shared together. That was before when he would come home to silence that echoed against the barren walls and climb into bed only to be greeted by cold sheets. That was before when he hadn’t even bothered to buy a dining table because he only ever cooked for one. That was before when the house was just brick and sheetrock, because there wasn’t anything inside that made it more.

Until you.

Frank still remembers how goddamn nervous he was to ask you to move in. You hadn’t even been dating a year, and he was worried you’d freak out that he was moving too fast. He loved the nights you spent with him, always coaxing you for another. Always just one more night.

Just stay one more night, darlin’. Promise I’ll wake ya up in time to change before work.

You always stayed. You even started bringing an overnight bag with more than one extra change of clothes, just in case. Frank wouldn’t have minded spending just as many nights at your place, but you always told him that you enjoyed his house more given that it was far more spacious than your little one bedroom apartment, and you were “absolutely in love with his kitchen”.

That right? Feel free to use it anytime then, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna stop ya.

You had been complaining about running out of space in your apartment, specifically space for your bookshelves. You had two large ones already that were overflowing, and you were ranting to Frank about how your tiny apartment was causing you to be financially responsible in limiting how many more books you could buy. Frank listened with an amused grin on his lips. He thought you looked adorable with the little pout on your lips, brows furrowed and nose crinkled up, clearly distraught by your predicament. He loved how much you loved to read. He loved it even more when he was able to persuade you to read to him.

There was an empty room he wasn’t using that he decided right then would be yours. He went out and got some ash gray wood to match the color of your current bookshelves, dropped by your place with coffee and a guise of “I was in the neighborhood”, but really was trying to get a gauge on just how much work he had cut out for him. You had always told him you wanted your own library room when you finally moved into a house of your own, and Frank was determined to give you one. He spent an entire weekend building out a few large bookshelves, testing the shelves strength with different weights, making sure every edge was sanded and smoothed to perfection, and secured them all into the walls so they couldn’t topple over. He even got you a little step stool that he tucked beside one of the bookcases so that you could reach the top shelves if he wasn’t around.

Frank had invited you over for dinner the following Monday night, casually announcing he had something he wanted to show you afterwards. His heart pounded in his chest the entire walk down the hallway and his palms had begun to sweat as he twisted the knob and opened the door. The nerves he felt in that moment were immensely stronger than any he had ever felt before, almost as debilitating as the ones he felt from the ambush in Kandahar. He was perplexed by the puzzled look on your face when he flicked on the light, stepping aside to allow you to move past him. He watched you carefully as you traced your fingertips along one of the shelves before turning to face him with a playful smile.

I don’t think you have enough books for these, Frank.

No, but you do.

You…got these for me?

I built ‘em for you, sweetheart. Said you were runnin’ out of space and all that. Thought you could use some more.

Your lips had been on his before he could get another word out, not that he minded. Frank had guided you back against one of the bookshelves, his hands tightly gripped onto your waist as you poured all of your gratitude into his mouth. His hands had slipped down slowly to grab the backs of your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly to pin you between his hips and the bookshelf. You broke the kiss momentarily to giggle incredulously against his full lips.

I can’t believe you built me a library at your house. How am I ever supposed to wanna go home now?

Well, that’s just the thing darlin’. I was thinkin’ this could be your home now.

That was the first room in the house that Frank made love to you in after you agreed to move in with him, but that certainly wasn’t the only one that night.

I wanna rock some sheetrock

Knock some pictures off the wall

Love you baby like a wrecking ball

Frank was antsy the entire drive home, continuously glancing down at his phone as if that would make the distance shorter and the time pass faster. He missed you. He needed you. It had barely been a week since he’d had you, but something about this time felt different. His desire was a lot stronger than he could remember it being any other time he had been gone. Frank needed to touch you like he needed to breathe. He needed to feel your supple skin in his rough palms, your needy hands tugging at his grown out hair, his hips nestled between your own. He needed to feel that you were his and you were safe.

The only time Frank ever truly felt at ease was when he was with you. He wasn’t quite as hypervigilant, unless you were out in public and then he couldn’t help himself. There wasn’t an omnipresent weight bearing down on his shoulders. That daunting thing inside him wasn’t clawing him apart begging to be let out. He felt lighter, definitely happier. He felt things he never thought he would feel again. Things he didn’t think he deserved to feel again. At first it terrified him. He didn’t want to get used to that tenderness, only to have it ripped away again. He didn’t know if he would be able to survive that a second time. But the harder he tried to fight it, the stronger his craving grew, and eventually he gave in and chased it like a nomad following the North Star.

Frank loved being around you. But when he was inside of you? God, that felt like heaven. Probably the closest he thought a man like him would ever get, but fuck if he didn’t care as long as he got to visit every single day. Sometimes several times a day when he just couldn’t get enough. He was insatiable when it came to you. Burying himself to the hilt in the warmth of your walls was where he always found pure peace. Everything else melted away when his hips collided with yours, and he heard your breathy repetition of his name sweetly echoing in his ears. Frank could stay inside you for hours. Sometimes he would keep going, even when you were both far past your point of exhaustion and overstimulation, even when it almost hurt.

Just one more, sweetheart. Just need one more, that’s it.

Frank needed you, and the stronger his desire grew, the harder his foot pressed against the gas.

You, look at you

Send me one more shot

Sittin’ on the bathroom sink

Damn you really turn me on

Paintin’ your toenails pink

Frank had gone from having not a single photo on his phone to his entire camera roll being full of pictures of you, and plenty of the two of you together. He had gotten in a habit of sneaking photos of you when you weren’t looking, or when you were doing simple things around the house or while the two of you were out. He loved to look at those when he was gone. It made him feel like you were there with him sometimes, especially the ones he had caught of you sleeping when he had woken up before you. That was the last thing he looked at every night when he was away before he fell asleep.

His favorite was one of you in Central Park in autumn. He had let you drag him along for a little romantic picnic at one of your favorite spots. Of course you didn't actually have to drag him. Frank would’ve followed you fucking anywhere you wanted to go without hesitation or complaint. The leaves had shifted from varying shades of emerald into deep hues of vermillion and gold. A breeze had blown through that had a few of them cascading down like timid raindrops around your head, and you had glanced up to watch them fall with the biggest smile on your face. Frank couldn’t pull his phone out fast enough to capture that moment. Every time he looked down at his phone, he saw that picture, and it made him smile just as big.

Frank loved that you sent him pictures while he was away. You always included him in whatever you were doing, even if he wasn’t physically present. Sometimes you sent him quick little videos when you wanted to ramble about something that was too much to type. He didn’t mind. It meant he got to see you, and hear your voice at the same time. Sometimes you’d send him a picture wearing two different earrings to ask him what looked better, or would paint two different shades of pink on your toes and ask which he preferred, as if he could tell the fucking difference. He’d always give you the same response.

Don’t matter, you make everythin’ look beautiful.

He could practically hear you rolling your eyes through the phone at that, and it always made him laugh. But he loved it. He loved that you asked for his opinion on things, even if you didn’t need it. He loved that you thought about him just as much while he was away as he thought about you.

He really loved when you sent him pictures of you in bed, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. Frank absolutely loved when you wore his clothes, and how they smelled like you after. There wouldn’t even hardly be any skin showing in the picture, except your bare thighs, and it was always accompanied by an endearing sleepy smile on your lips, but God did it get him hard as a fucking rock. It always sent his mind into a frenzy with memories of the two of you in bed together. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the soft flesh of your hip in his hand. He could almost smell the dainty floral and citrus of your perfume running underneath his nose. He could almost hear the melodic whimpers and honeyed pleas that seemed to reverberate in his ears. Pictures like that had him eagerly pursuing your memory with his hand down his sweats, sending up silent prayers of your name to anyone that was listening that he could come home soon.

Easy baby before you say,

But if I can make it just one more day

That old house is gonna be shakin’

I hope those bricks and boards can take it

But I won’t be surprised if the whole damn place just falls

I’m gonna rock you baby like a wrecking ball

Two hours. Just two more hours, and Frank would be home. He could make it. He already had eight hours that had felt like an eternity behind him. Two hours was nothing. The closer he got home to you, the more all of his exhaustion from the past few days was quickly evolving into veritable energy. Frank was absolutely wide awake by the one hour mark. He hadn’t told you he was coming home early. He wanted to surprise you. He thought briefly about stopping to get you flowers or something, but that meant stopping and putting even more time between the two of you. He’d get flowers later.

All Frank could think about was you. Fuck, had he missed you. He was struggling to decide on whether he would have the patience to take his time with you, spend all night making up for every second that he was away. He liked to go slow with you. Frank liked to learn your body and memorize it constantly, like reading his favorite book all over again. He loved the way your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head when he set a languid pace, ensuring you felt everything. He loved to strum you delicately with his fingers, producing beautiful melodies from your lips as he played his favorite tune between your thighs over and over again. Frank especially loved when you embraced his head against your core as his tongue delved and sought out his favorite treasure. Frank wasn’t a religious man, but he felt reborn every single time your gratification coated his face, reveling in the way your taste washed away and absolved his past sins.

As much as he enjoyed leisurely extending your pleasure, sometimes he couldn’t wait. There were times Frank couldn’t even be bothered to fully rid either of you of your clothing, he just needed enough out of the way to get to where he needed to be. There was at least one occasion where you two hadn’t even made it past the front door. Frank had shamelessly fucked you right there, for any of your neighbors to see or hear, keys long forgotten in the lock, because he couldn’t wait. He hadn’t even bothered to keep quiet. Had anyone been on the other side of that door, they probably would’ve thought S.W.A.T. was in the process of fucking breaking it down. But who was gonna come out and say something to him? Who the fuck would dare get between Frank Castle and his girl?

Never had he been so fucking happy that he had installed a camera on your front door. The amount of times he had replayed that video while he was away was egregious, but Frank didn’t fucking care. Due to that incident, and a few others where you two barely made it past the entryway, all the photos you had hung on those walls were purposefully moved a foot inward. Curtis had inquired once about the weird gap of space between the front door and the half of the hallway that was decorated, but Frank’s mouth had curled upwards in a salacious grin before you had a chance to come up with an excuse.

Better you don’t ask, Curt.

Frank let out a breath of relief he didn’t realize he was holding when he pulled into the driveway and saw your car there. He could see a faint glow through the curtains in the living room, letting him know you were awake. He didn’t bother grabbing his bag out of the back or even locking his truck. All that mattered right now was you.

And that old house is gonna be shakin’

Rafter and rockin’ foundation quaking

Crash out through the front door

Back you up against a wall

You were waiting at the other end of the entryway as soon as Frank stepped through the front door. He nearly groaned at the sight of you in one of his flannels that just reached the middle of your thighs. There was surprise written evidently all over your face. He had told you he wouldn’t be home for another three days. But that initial shock seemed to wear off the second you took in the hungry look in his eyes, your lips curving upwards into a playful smirk.

“Hey, big guy.”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

In an instant, Frank had crossed the distance to you in two short strides, grabbing your face in his large hands to steal your lips in a kiss that had you collapsing into his chest. He wasted no time backing you up against the wall, his tongue swiping the bittersweet remnants of white wine off your lips as your frantic fingers pushed his jacket off his broad shoulders. Frank redirected your hands away from toying with the collar of his henley and guided them down to his belt, silently signaling how much he needed you right now. You moaned softly into the kiss at just how much he was straining against the rough denim.

As you pulled the worn leather from the buckle and worked on undoing his jeans, Frank’s fingers found the waistband of your panties underneath the flannel and shoved them carelessly down your legs. He gave you just a split second to step out of them before lifting you up into his arms and pressing you back roughly into the drywall, his other hand quickly working on freeing his coveted cock. He could feel your heat seeping through the fabric of his shirt on his lower abdomen. He should’ve felt guilty about not prepping you more first, but he was too far gone in clouded lust to hold back, especially with the way you were nibbling on his earlobe and begging diligently.

“Please, Frankie.”

That was all he needed. A guttural groan tore through him when he finally sank the blunt head of his cock into your welcoming heat, continuing to drive further into you until he had nothing left to give. His fingertips dug bruisingly into your hips as he held you there, his eyes falling shut at the way your greedy pussy squeezed around him longingly. Your legs wrapped even tighter around his lower back as he pushed you further against the wall with his hips. Frank couldn’t form a single coherent thought at the moment other than how fucking good you felt. How much he had missed this. How much he had missed you.

The high pitched cry that sounded from your throat snapped him back into focus. He would get lost in you later, but right now he wanted to watch you fall apart. Frank dipped his head to press his forehead against yours, holding you as close to his body as he possibly could and securing his arm around your waist so that you were being knocked back into his embrace with every powerful thrust of his hips. He placed his other hand at the base of your throat, wrapping his fingers around it delicately like ivy and squeezing ever so gently to get you to look at him.

“There’s my pretty girl. Missed you so much, sweetheart. So fuckin’ much. Drove all goddamn day for this. Couldn’t wait to come home and be right here.”

Frank loved looking into your eyes when he fucked you. He could see it all. Every little thing you were feeling, all of the words his hips were knocking out of you, all of the pleas his lips stole from yours. He loved watching the way your pupils dilated when he called you his girl, praised you, or when you were about to come. He tried so hard to get you to keep them open when you finally did, swearing he could see the entire fucking universe in them.

Love you baby,

Take it right there baby

Rock you baby,

Like a wrecking ball

“Missed you so much, Frank…God…please…”

“That’s it baby, atta girl. Take it like I know you can. Promise we’ll take our time later, yeah? Just need to feel you right now. Been too long, sweetheart. Too goddamn long.”

Frank could barely hear the sound of the picture frames rattling against the wall as your conjoined bodies collided into it over and over and over again. All he could hear was your breathless pants and pleas of his name ringing in his ears. You grabbed onto the back of his neck, chasing his lips as he quickened his pace. Exchanges of i love you’s were murmured against each other's mouth, trying to fit all of your shared longing and greed into the growing bubble of pleasure that was about to erupt between the two of you.

This right here, this was home. You were it. Happiness. Heaven. Freedom. Peace. Home. Those were all the things Frank found within you. All of the things he would fight anyone, even the Devil or God himself, to hold onto. No one could help the sorry son of a bitch that ever tried to take away what was his again. Nothing would ever take you away from him. Nothing.

That thought echoing in his mind had Frank pounding you so hard into the wall with such a ferocity it shocked even him. But he couldn’t stop himself, not with you digging your nails into his shoulder blade and pleading for more.

“I love you. You hear me? I fuckin’ love you. Ain’t nothin’ ever gonna keep me from comin’ home to you, sweetheart. Not a goddamn thing.”

Frank didn’t need you to speak. He just needed you to listen. He needed you to know that you were home. He needed you to know that you were his. He needed you to know that he would protect you until he took his last breath, and even then he’d find a way to keep going.

Frank immediately lost it when you finally let go, his hips convulsing against yours as your walls wrung every single drop of elation out of his spent cock. He let his head fall against your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment to catch his breath as he hugged you as tightly as he could to his chest. He had no idea how the fuck he was still standing, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he focused on the sound and feeling of your heart thudding just below his ear.

Your nails gingerly scratched at his scalp and he hummed, wrapped up in content like a blanket with your heart as a pillow. He could’ve passed out right there. Definitely fucking better than a motel bed.

“Frankie?”

He grunted in response, which earned a canorous fit of giggles to vibrate against the side of his face. It only made him snuggle further into your chest, gently smacking his palm against your ass when you wiggled in his relentless grasp.

“Stop movin’.”

“Baby, we can’t stay like this.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because if you pass out, you’re gonna crush me.”

“You callin’ me heavy?”

“Frank, you’re a giant compared to me. Yes, you’re heavy. I’d rather you crush me in a sexy way, not in a permanent way. Now, I believe you promised me a few more rounds, Castle.”

Frank’s ears perked up at that, retracting his head from the crook of your neck just enough that he could see your face. He cocked his head to the side slightly, a sly smirk twisting at the edge of his mouth as he brought his palm back to your ass to give it a rough squeeze.

“Mm, I did, didn’t I? Better get on that then, yeah?”

“I don’t know, you think you can handle it? Looking awfully tired there, big guy.”

Frank’s eyes darkened when you quirked your brow in a challenge, a knowing smirk of your own spreading over your lips. The teasing tone laced in your words didn’t escape him. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t working. You always knew what buttons to press to get what you wanted, and Frank was always more than willing to comply. Hell, most of the time you didn’t even have to try to convince him. All you had to do was give him that smile, and he was a goner.

But if you were gonna play that game, so was he.

“Oh sweetheart, I know you don’t think I drove all day just to fuck you once and call it a night.”

#frank castle #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #curtis hoyle

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solarisstyles · 1 year

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WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?(IN CASE I MISS YOU)

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader Word Count: 1.6k+ Warnings: vomiting, mentions of drinking/being drunk/hungover, angst, pining Summary: Harry and you have feeling for each other that you both refuse to admit. A/N: None!

Having your head in the toilet was not how you wanted to start your day. Your fun night out has turned into a morning from hell. Like the world was mocking you for having fun and trying to ignore your feelings.

Harry, the ever loving best friend, pushed open the bathroom door as you were mid retch into the toilet, throwing up again. Pausing in the doorway and scrunching his nose at the noise, “Ugh, you’re still throwing up?” he asked.

Setting down the glass of water and bottle of ibuprofen on the sink vanity, he then kneels behind you, gathering your hair and holding it back from your face.

“Shut the fuck up Harry. I’m dying.” you gasped out, trying to catch your breath and ignore the urge to dry heave.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” he chuckled. “I told you to stop after the fifth shot. You’ve never been able to handle your alcohol in large amounts.”

You rolled your eyes, and even though he couldn’t see it from your position over the toilet, he could feel it.

If someone had told you that a mutual friend would introduce you to your now best friend, who would just so happen to be a pop star, you would have laughed. The friendship was so unlikely considering your constant differences in opinions. Sometimes you would argue more than anything else, but aside from the bickering, Harry was a great friend. There’s been many mornings now in the short year you’ve known one another, that Harry has helped you nurse a hangover.

Last night you drank with a different intent other than having fun with your best friend. You were drinking to forget, to numb the sting you felt in your chest. Harry is going on tour for six months, leaving you behind to house sit for him. It doesn’t sound all that bad, and it wouldn’t be if you weren’t harboring all of these feelings for Harry.

The feelings weren’t always there. It’s something that gradually grew over time. Bigger and bigger till they were gnawing away at your heart. Everytime you would look at Harry for longer than necessary, you would forget to breathe, your heart rate would spike. It scared you to no end at first till you came to realization one night.

You were sitting in your car after having dinner with him, watching as he strutted over to his own car to leave. He looked flawless underneath the harsh lights of the parking lot. The restaurant had closed over two hours ago, kicking you guys out when the staff had to clean up for the night. You moved the conversation to your car, looking for any excuse to not part ways. He sat in your passenger seat, ranting about something he saw on the front of a magazine as he stood in line at the store. Waving your phone in his hand as he spoke, only pausing his theatrical movements when he thought of another song to add to your shared playlist. It was moments like these that you treasured most.

- - - - - - - - -

The next big moment that solidified your feelings for Harry, was the night you got a flat tire. It was late, dark, and you were on the side of the highway with no exit in sight. The best part? It was pouring down rain. You were scared and didn’t know what to do in a situation like this. You’d never changed a tire before and you surely didn’t want your first attempt to be in the rain. With shaky hands, you tapped Harry’s contact to call him. You felt bad calling him so late, knowing he had things to do tomorrow.

“Hello?” his groggy voice sounded through your car speakers. He could hear the clicking of your hazard lights and your soft sniffles. “Hey, where are you? Are you okay?” he frantically asked, sitting up in his bed.

“No…” you mumbled through your tears. “I’ve got a flat tire and I don’t know what to do. It’s raining, and dark, and I’m scared.”

“Share your location, I’m on my way.” he said, quickly throwing on a hoodie and shorts. He’ll never admit to you how panicked he was that night. Or admit that pang he felt in his chest thinking you might have been hurt.

It helped him realize his own feelings he had for you that ran much deeper than a friendship. He couldn’t confess that to you though. He couldn’t take the risk of losing you in case you didn’t feel the same way.

- - - - - - - - -

There have been many more moments in between the big ones. Christmas’ spent together, birthdays, family vacations he would drag you on, small interactions between the stage and crowd at concerts. They all added up to the hopeless love you both felt for one another but were too scared to fully express.

Finally feeling the nausea pass, you moved to lean back against the cool porcelain of the tub. Pinching the bridge of your nose as the migraine you had pounded at the front of your head. “I’m never drinking again.” you grumbled.

Harry smiled softly at you and shook his head. Grabbing the water bottle and medicine, he sat next to you and handed them to you. “That’s what you said last time.” he teased in a lighthearted tone.

Your head hurt far too much to argue, so you just accepted the water, swishing it around in your mouth and spitting it into the toilet before you flushed it down with the remains of your stomach. Popping the two pills and using the rest of the water to take it, you sighed. Your arms hugged around your legs and your forehead resting against your bent knees.

Gently rubbing your back, Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Even when he should be repulsed by you, he thought you were the most amazing person ever. “Want to lay down in my bed? You will be more comfortable there.”

The thought of a soft bed sounded all too inviting, the thought of Harry’s bed made butterflies flutter in your already queasy stomach. “Can I have the fan on?” you asked, turning to look at him some.

“You can have the fan on, and I’ll even close the blackout curtains for you.” His smile makes it harder to resist.

You smiled softly back at him, “You spoil me.”

Chuckling, he stood up, holding a hand out to you so he could help you up. “Is there any other way to treat a drama queen?” he asked.

Huffing a breath out of your nose, you accepted his hand anyway, letting him guide you to his bedroom and tuck you in. Once he was sure you were comfortable, he walked around and closed the curtains like he promised and even turned his fan on. The cool breeze on your face helped ease the rest of the nausea and relax you.

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, he gently brushed his fingers through your hair, admiring your relaxed face as you now laid with your eyes closed. Not wanting it to be creepy in case you woke up, he softly stood and began to leave the room so you could rest.

“Harry?” you softly called before he could leave.

Turning quickly to you, he softly responded, “Yeah?”

“Could you stay?”

The tense moment of silence that followed your question made you worry. Unknowingly to you, Harry was fighting his own demons.

‘Don’t overthink it.’ he thought to himself. ‘You’ve shared a bed before. This is no different.’

Without verbally answering you, he made his way to the other side of the bed and slid underneath the covers with you.

You both laid there, minds racing with multiple thoughts at the same time. Six months was a long time. The longest either of you will be away from each other since becoming friends. Both of you have the same thought echoing like a mantra in your head, ‘What if they find someone while we’re apart?’. It was a pain neither of you were ready to face if it happened.

The both of you thought about how much you’d miss this, the nights spent drinking together and waking up to take care of whoever has the worst hangover. Random dinners together, arguing about why certain songs don’t deserve to be added to your playlist, constantly being in each other’s presence even when there was nothing to do. All of that will be gone for six months. You weren’t sure how you were going to cope with this. Harry has the band to distract him, make time go by faster. For you it will feel like a drag, especially when you’re in his home surrounded by everything that’s so painfully ‘Harry’.

You wished you weren’t so prideful. It would be so much easier if you were able to just tell him how much you’ll miss him. Expressing your feelings was always scary to you though, and Harry wasn’t any better. Scared of crossing that imaginary line that you both would often tightrope on. The soft touches, brushing of hands, hugs that last a lot longer than they really needed to. You’ve never been the kind of person to crave physical touch, but with Harry it’s all you wanted. Just knowing he was laying next to you right now was good enough.

Soon though he wouldn’t be. Facetime calls won’t be the same, the texts won’t be as exciting. Because nothing beats the random ‘come over’ texts you would send to one another. Six months of thinking, wondering, and stressing over if it’s worth just admitting your feelings to each other. ‘It’s all going to be worth it’ you both think.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst

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rantingsofthehumanmind · 1 year

Text

The Value of a Dollar

Continuation of A Diamond in the Rough

Thank you Sky Castle for ruining my brain with the caste system of society but here's the sequel a reader asked for.

1.3k words SFW, Loki is just full of bad vibes

As always by clicking read more you are acknowledging you are over 18 and are comfortable with dark or implied dark themes

The next few days after your breakup is… expected. Loki calls, texts and leaving gifts at your apartment and you muting, blocking and sending back his attempts. It's a tedious back and forth till it completely stops, no missed calls from unknown numbers or weird vague texts. Just silence.

The apartment itself felt even worse. There was a lingering smell you couldn't quite recognize. The objects in your room seemed slightly out of place and now some of your clothing seems to have gone missing. Like the plaid scarf your mother gave you.

You gladly accept the peace but with it comes an odd sense of paranoia. Whenever you made it home you felt on you as you opened the doors to your building. Weird cars parked out in front with dark tinted windows, youve started writing them down but they seem to have different plates everytime.

The paranoia seems to follow you at work as well. Your company was preparing to go public and hit the stock market and your team was tasked with creating the earning report for possible shareholders. But despite the hectic schedule people still found the time to talk to you. Constant person questions on your daily life and schedule, most of the people who came up to you were people you hardly recognized or never spoke to. Even going as far as glancing at your phone and your work computer.

At one point you've decided to cut your losses and avoid as much human contact as possible. Working outside instead of your desk, playing work related audio to seem busy and sitting close to the door during meetings for a quick exit.

The plan is quite successful until you receive an email from Wilson, your supervisor on your latest behavior. This leads you to where you are now. In front of your supervisor's door knocking with enough butterflies in your stomach to make you vomit on the spot.

There's a bit of whispering in the office as you press your ear to the door until you hear him call you in and you wonder why he organized the meeting if he was already busy with someone else. You step in offering an apology for disturbing him when you felt your heart drop seeing a familiar face looking back at you from the seat across from your boss.

Wilson is all smiles when you walk in standing up to push you in as he closes the door. "You're still as punctual as ever huh? Take a seat, take a seat. I was just chatting with your boyfriend here. You never told us you were dating, Loki Laufysen. Were you the one who suggested he take up our stock?"

You stare blankly ahead, mind racing to make sense of the situation and can only stutter out one thought, "We-We're not dat-"

Loki offers a warm smile to your boss as he interrupts you."Of course she didn't. She has always been the secretive type haven't you?" He grabs your hand and you attempt to pull away with no success.

"Well we wouldn't want to get caught in any legal issues. But here I am talking your ear off. I'll leave you two lovebirds the room." Wilson walks towards the door and you stand attempting to block his exit.

"Sir, what about the email? My meeting?"

"No worries, Loki told me the situation. I'll tell your project lead to reduce your workload. Can't believe you've been organizing the paperwork for Loki's portfolio as well. You sure are quite the busy bee." Wilson leaves with a wave and you're left with a gnawing feeling in your chest as you sit back down.

Loki begins to gently stroke your skin with his thumb and lifts it up to offer a chaste kiss before repeating the gesture. "Now how have you been, my dear."

"I was fine before seeing your face."

Loki hums, "You know I was really heartbroken after that day. I felt resentful and betrayed at how easily you seem to have thrown away our relationship." His grip on your hand tightens causing a sharp and agonizing pain.

"But then I realized I wasn't paying attention to your needs. So here I am, what would you like? The company? I've already made a hefty deal on the stocks you can basically own it and never work again. How about a new house just the two of us, I know your apartment feels a bit cluttered with the stuff you have. We can go house shopping today if you like. We can drive around some of the neighborhoods or just pick a plot of land to build on we'd have to get county approval but that should take little time-"

As Loki rambles you zone him out to focus on observing his current state. Despite the act he put on earlier you see in his face that he's tired. Sullen bags under his eyes and his hair seems over greased and unwashed. Even his eyes seem a bit off. You look down and see your plaid scarf on his neck. "That's my scarf isn't it?"

Loki pauses and touches the cloth, "Yes, I missed you so much I decided to use some of your clothing to remind me of you. Do you like it?"

"I don't remember leaving this at your apartment, why do you have it."

"Work must be really tough for you. So busy you can't remember even the little things." He gets down on his knees in front of you and gathers both of your hands in his on your lap. "So, what do you think? What would you like to start with?"

"Loki, I don't think you fully processed what happened. We are broken up. There is no second chance, money can't resolve this before or now. I want you out of this office, out of this zip code and out of my life."

The silence that follows is heavy and uncomfortable. Loki doesn't look you in the eye as he stands but he gives your hand a soft squeeze before pacing the room. "Darling, you always were shortsighted."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The money itself never has to reach you." Your brows furrow when the true meaning of his words hits you.

You jump up from your chair and shove Loki against a wall. "You! You're the reason my coworkers are acting so weird lately. Did you buy them off?"

"Please why would I reach so low." He points to the roof of the office, "When the jackpot is so cheap."

"So what? You bought off the company? I'll quit, I hate this job anyway."

"And risk thousands of jobs with me pulling out my offer?"

"If they were dumb enough to follow whatever they were told to do they deserve the consequences."

"How about I do you better. The house your mom lives in is fully paid for correct?"

"Don't you fucking dare-"

With a smirk on his face, Loki lifts his hands in defense. "I wouldn't dare hurt my mother-in-law but many of the neighbors around her aren't too lucky keeping things afloat. Would be lucky if they bills suddenly increased and everyone else was forced to move out. It would create some gossip and some uncomfortable confrontations."

"The cars in front of my building, is that you?"

"I have to make sure you are safe, sweetheart."

"My God, what is wrong with you? I just want my peace back. What do you want from me?!" There's already tears running down your face and you can barely make out anything but Loki's bright green eyes.

"Hm... What I want?" He takes off his coat and places it on your shoulders in an affectionate manner. "I want you right by my side. The place where you should be."

"But the cars? This little company of yours? That's just a little taste of the true power of money." He pauses for a moment, his hands squeezing your shoulders as he looks deep into your eyes. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he leans in until his lips are just inches from yours. Then pulls back to reach your ear. "And we both know that I can do a lot worse with the income I have."

His coat on your shoulder feels like a heavy blanket of defeat sinking you down in the blackhole that is Loki Laufysen. With the coat giving off the same unfamiliar scent you smelled in your apartment.

#reader insert #yandere #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #yandere insert #yandere male #i write i cri #self insert #chubby reader #plus size reader #yandere male × reader

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

For the BTHB... Villain with appendicitis?

Thank you for the ask!

Rupturing

@badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: appendectomy, fever, anxious character, painkillers, pills, vomit, anesthesia, surgery, IV, needles, refusal of medical care

9:01. He was a minute late.

9:05. Five minutes late.

9:15. Hero started to pace around, kicking pebbles with her foot.

9:20. She was starting to get nervous. Villain was never, ever late.

9:30. Okay, this was getting absurd.

Hero stood up, grabbed her phone, and called Villain. It rang, but never clicked.

He didn't answer.

Hero bit her lip, a nauseating pit forming in her gut.

Something was wrong. Villain was always overly stressed about time and always showed up at nine- not a second too late.

So, naturally, being the anxious, paranoid worry wort that Hero was, she went to check up on him.

Of course, Hero spent all her freetime figuring out where Villain lived if there was an instance like the current one.

Upon knocking at the beige door, that nauseous feeling overcame her again. Something was wrong.

She busted through the door and immediately the eerie silence of the home startled her. Even though Villain lived alone, there would surely be a TV playing or the dishwasher going.

Hero searched through the various rooms. It was a normal house. Quaint and small with barely any decor apart from a few spontaneously placed plants. All the walls were painted with the same, dull blue that the sky had right before a storm. It was dreary and perfectly villainous.

"Villain!" Hero called, peeking into a room she assumed to be his bedroom. Apart from a shoddily made bed, it seemed as though Villain hadn't been in there for a long time.

The next room in the hallway was a bathroom. Hero stepped in there, ignoring the horrid stench, and examined the counters. Bottles of Tylenol and Ibuprofen were scattered about. His gnawed on toothbrush was laying by the sink as water slowly dripped from the faucet.

That didn't look spectacular.

Hero stepped out of the bathroom and turned the light off before turning and walking into a large room that seemed to be the kitchen and dining room combined.

"Hey Villain! Are you home?" Hero called again, observing how badly stocked the fridge and cupboards were. Basically, the only food that Villain seemed to store was ramen and some protein powder.

"Villain!" Hero yelled, getting nervous. Based on the state of his bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, the villain seemed to be in rough state.

Or was that just her nervous tendencies kicking in?

The next room was without doubt the living room, though with those desolate walls, one may beg to differ.

In the center of the gray room was a dark cherry wood coffee table and a small armchair. And that was it.

Except for the body strewn across the ground.

Hero bounded over to the seemingly dead corpse and rolled it over to come face to face with Villain.

"Oh my gosh!" Hero exclaimed, thrusting her fingers by his neck to check for a pulse. It was there, thump... thump... thump...

"You okay?" Hero asked, smoothing the sweaty strands of hair out of his face. Villain blearily blinked his eyes open and shook his head.

"Stomach bug," he whispered.

Hero looked down at him skeptically. No, this wasn't just a stomach bug. He was obviously in pain and was likely running a nasty fever. And he looked so incredibly tired and weak.

"How long have you been like this?" Hero asked, putting Villain's heavy head in her lap.

"M day," he groaned, gasping for breath. "Stomach hurts."

"Where?" Hero asked. Villain lightly brushed his fingers over his right side.

"Oh okay bud. I think you have a fever," Hero said, taking his temperature with her hand. It was burning and he looked so pale.

"Yeah cold," Villain agreed, nodding the tiniest nod.

"Okay buddy," Hero murmured, stroking his flushed cheek. "I think we need to go to the doctor."

She recognized the symptoms. Her sister when they were kids got sick like this and they had to take her to the hospital. Hero was too young to exactly know what was going on, only that it was serious.

But Villain shook his head, aimlessly clawing at Hero's hand.

"No doctor. No doctor," he begged, then winced, whimpered and grabbed his right side. When he looked back up at Hero, there were tears in his eyes.

"Okay we are going now," Hero stood up with Villain in a bridal carry. He protested weakly, but then stilled. Hero stopped walking to see if he was still conscious by shaking him. He groaned.

Hero loaded Villain in the back seat of her truck and buckled him in around his chest and legs so he could safetly rest.

The drive to the hospital seemed longer than what it was. Every moment she got, Hero would look behind her to peer at Villain, and everytime he was still staring at the ceiling with a dazed expression.

Finally, they arrived. Hero barely put the vehicle in park by the time she was leaping out of the door and running to Villain's side.

"Hey! Hey!" Hero called when she ran into the hospital, placing Villain on a bench. Other patients stared at her and receptionists stood up to meet her.

"Bring him into the ER," one of the receptionists said as she grabbed a stack of papers and called the doctor. Hero gathered Villain back in her arms and ran into another room.

The receptionist handed Hero the stack of papers. "Fill these in to thr best of your ability. I'm going to get the doctor."

Hero sat on the raised hospital bed with Villain resting against her shoulder. He sighed contently and nuzzled his cheek to find a perfect spot. Hero looked over at him- he was almost asleep with his whole body splayed out and limp.

Hero wrapped her arm around his shivering body and rubbed his shoulder before answering some of the paperwork.

She was able to answer most of them relatively easily, but got stumped on occupation.

She couldn't just say villainy right?

"Hero, why hello. How is your arm healing?"

Hero looked up to see the doctor sauntering into the room, his blonde hair slightly tousled with pale gray shadows under his eyes- remnants of a busy day.

"Good, good," Hero said, putting the paperwork aside.

"Is this one of your team members?" The doctor asked, running a thermometer over Villain's forehead. He frowned at the reading.

"Not exactly," Hero replied, timidly. She rubbed Villain's hair as he stirred from the cool touch of the thermometer. He near immediately fell back asleep.

The doctor's face paled. "He's a villain? Hero you know-"

"Yes, I know, but look at him Doc," she gestured her head towards Villain's sagging body.

The doctor glanced at Villain for a moment. He then said, "Yeah, he's sick. I'm thinking appendicitis, but he's a villain. The hospital is not required to treat them, unless there's an order. Order as in signed by ten, high-ranking heroes. Besides, it'll endanger our staff."

"He can't even lift his head!" Hero exclaimed. "How is he going to be a threat under anesthesia? C'mon tell me."

"He could wake up..."

"As sick as he is? Not likely."

"A MRI scan could amplify his abilities."

Suddenly Villain coughed, interrupting the conversation. He groaned before expelling his stomach's contents on the floor.

"It's okay," Hero murmured, scowling slightly at the sight, before glaring at the doctor while raising her eyebrows.

The doctor sighed. "Lay him on the bed." Hero complied, laying the villain flat on the bed, adjusting his head to rest on the pillow.

The doctor took his hand and prodded at the right side of his stomach. Villain groaned, breathing heavily.

"He's going to need emergency surgery," the doctor said, standing up and trotting to a phone. "Nurse? I need a team of anesthesiologists for an appendectomy."

Hero grabbed Villain's hand. His forehead was creased in concern as he listened and watched the doctor's erratic movements.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll be right there with you," Hero soothed him. He seemed to relax, but his muscles did not let go of their tension.

"Okay. I am going to go get ready." The doctor left.

Soon after, a couple nurses came in and hooked Villain to an IV. He flinched, watching the small needle go into his elbow.

Hero grabbed his hand and rubbed it.

A couple more people sauntered in and injected a hypodermic needle into the IV line.

"Okay Villain, count down from ten."

"Ten... nine... eight... sev...ven...si." Villain looked over at Hero with pleading eyes before they drifted shut.

A nurse put a mask over his nose and he was wheeled away.

Hero waited in the lobby, twidling her thumb and reading health magazines. Every two minutes, literally, she would look at the clock and bite her lip.

After two hours, the doctor made his appearance.

"The surgery was successful. He is waking up now, so he will be very groggy, but his vitals are good. You can take him home."

"Don't you have to monitor him."

"Come back in two weeks for a check-up."

Hero walked into the ER and to Villain's bed. His eyes were half-lidded and he barely noted Hero's presence.

"Hey buddy," Hero cooed, stroking his head. "You scared me."

Villain didn't reply, just blinked very, very slowly. Soon, his blinks became longer until he drifted off.

Nervous, Hero called for a nurse. "Why is he sleeping?" She asked.

The nurse shrugged. "The effects of anesthesia hasn't worn off yet, so he'll be in and out for a while."

Hero nodded and sat back down.

"You can take him home, you know," the nurse said. "We don't keep villains for monitoring or over-night stays."

Hero groaned and looked at the nurse. "Well you should."

"But we don't. Please take him home, he's occupying beds that could be used for more important patients."

Hero rolled her eyes, but obeyed. She picked Villain up and helped him into his jeans, but left his shirt off to not irritate the stitches. Then, she rolled him to her truck in a wheelchair.

It was nearly midnight by the time Hero got Villain to her house and changed into something comfortable. He was dozing, but every movement seemed to awake him. He was totally and completely silent, allowing Hero to tuck him on her bed before sliding in next to him.

She wrapped her arms around Villain and pulled him in tight. He drifted off to sleep instantly, and Hero was not far behind.

When Hero awoke the next morning, she was sprawled across her bed with Villain laying on her stomach. She smiled and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest before carefully removing his head to go downstairs and prepare breakfast. After a quick research, she decided to make a bowl of pudding with toast and avacado.

Villain came down the stairs stiffly, groaning with each step, just as Hero put the bread in the toaster. She looked up just in time to see him lean heavily against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Hero scolded and gently led him to the couch to sit on.

"Heard you- engh," Villain winced, holding his side. "Downstairs."

"Okay," Hero sighed. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

"No not really. Just you and the hospital. Everything else is just a blank."

"You had an appendectomy," Hero explained, brushing the hair out of Villain's face. He jerked back and Hero pulled away. He was so cute and vulnerable when he was out of it.

"What's that?" Villain asked, but Hero had a sense that he knew and just wanted to fill the silence up.

"Your appendix was removed." The toaster clicked, so Hero went and grabbed the food.

Villain spooned at it for awhile before putting it towards the side. His face was pale.

"Not hungry," he said.

"You gotta eat."

"No," Villain slowly laid on the couch, his body seizing with every motion. "I'm tired..."

"Yeah, you had surgery, but please eat something so I can give you some painkillers."

Villain rolled his eyes, but allowed Hero to feed him some avocado and pudding. However, by the end of it, he was too exhausted to resist Hero putting two large pills in his mouth.

Between the pain meds and fatigue, it only took a few minutes for Villain to fall sound asleep.

Hero idly ate her own pudding and stared out the window. After finishing both her's and Villain's chocolate desert, she went to do dishes.

Then she showered.

Then she playing monopoly by herself.

And then she ate lunch.

All the while waiting for Villain to regain consciousness.

He did, eventually, and very slowly.

"How are you feeling."

"Bit dizzy," Villain admitted, rubbing his eyes. "How long was I out?"

"About," Hero looked at her phone. "Five hours, give or take one."

Villain groaned and quickly murmured an apology.

"Don't be. You are still a bit feverish and just came out of surgery."

Villain closed his eyes. Hero thought he might've fallen back asleep, but then he spoke,

"Thank you for taking care of me."

Hero smiled.

#bad things happen bingo #feverish villain #drugged villain #hero caretaker #hero x villain #heros and villains #anesthesia #appendectomy #writing #villain whumpee

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years

Text

Everytime - Chris Evans x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this is based on this request, thank you so much nonnie!! honestly i didn’t know this song before and it’s a bop. it kinda spiralled a little more than the song, but i hope you’ll like it!! also, tysm Ev @evansphnx12 for helping me with the ending, you’re a sweetheart!! okay, no more rambles, enjoy<3

Summary: you and chris didn’t want the same things, or at least you didn’t think so. it was pointless to pretend like you did, you’d only end up getting hurt; but the second your eyes meet you want nothing except for each other, and god knows that’s a pull you can’t resist.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic, alcohol consumption (everyone’s the proper age), a little bit of angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello?" you answer the phone curiously. The number isn't one you recognize, not saved on your phone, and you furrow your brows trying to understand who could it be, except maybe a spam call.

"Hey," answers a deep voice from the other side of the phone, "it's Chris, I don't know if you remember, you gave me your number a while ago and-"

"Oh yeah, I remember," you said, "hi!" you smiled even though you know he can't see you. "How are you?"

You both went through the normal pleasantries, but your mind wasn't really in it, running a mile a minute because god, did you remember Chris.

You two met a while back at a bar. You were out with your friends, and you noticed him from the corner of your eye, his friend group smaller than yours but large nonetheless. He was pretty far from where you were seated, but he looked so good you couldn't resist sneaking some more looks at him throughout the night.

Okay, maybe you were staring. Just a little.

And he must've noticed too, because the next time you lifted your eyes he wasn't in his previous seat, and you were about to sigh and assume he went home before you heard a voice greeting you to your right. You jumped a little in surprise before turning your head, only to look up and find his blue eyes staring back into yours, a slight smirk playing on his lips, and shit, he was so handsome it was unfair.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Even his voice was attractive. You contained your scoff of disbelief.

Long story short, one drink turned into a few more, that turned into going back to his house and having what was maybe the absolute best sex of your life, because you were both pretty drunk, but it was definitely up there.

You vaguely remember giving him your number, but you still left early the next morning, because that's what you thought he wanted, thinking the whole number thing was probably more of a courtesy than anything.

Apparently, it wasn't.

"So, I'm gonna be back in town next week," he mentioned casually, "and I was wondering if maybe… you'd wanna meet up? Grab a coffee or something?"

"Sure," you said, your brain catching up with your mouth a short moment afterward, and shit, why did you just say that? Doesn't that make you seem desperate? And besides, wasn't the whole thing supposed to be a one-night type of deal?

This was a bad idea. You knew that, but there was a small part of you that didn't care; small but definitely not insignificant.

"Great!" he chuckled on the other side of the phone. "So I'll text you sometime?"

"Yeah," you said, ending the call on an agreement to meet up Friday when he'd be in town.

So, in five days. That's enough time for your heart to stop pounding this loudly in your chest and the butterflies to stop fluttering around in your stomach, right?

Shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You kept busy the entire week, not giving yourself enough to mull over the plans you had, until it was finally Friday morning, and you woke up to a text from Chris, asking if you were still on for tonight and if you wanted him to come pick him up.

You thanked him and took him up on his offer, before plopping back first onto your bed. You put it off far enough, but now you could feel yourself inevitably freaking out.

The thing was, you really didn't know what to expect, the uncertainty that had been gnawing at the back of your mind for a week now finally taking the spotlight. You thought you'd never see him again, but that clearly wasn't the case.

Well, you'd see soon enough, you gathered, as you distracted yourself for another few hours until it was time to get ready. Chris didn't exactly tell you where you were going, but you two had mentioned a coffee, and even if it wasn't that, you imagined he wouldn't take you anywhere too fancy, so you put on something casual elegant.

I'm sorry, that last bit was kind of misleading, wasn't it? Really, you thought about what to wear for a good 30 minutes, decided on casual elegant and then took another good hour to pull out an obscene amount of clothes from your closet, proceeding to try on different outfits until you finally settled on one.

The advantage of your indecision was that it was very time consuming, leaving you very little time to get everything else you needed in order, thus less time to spiral.

When Chris texted you to come outside, all you could do was take a deep breath and go. After you greeted each other, the music filled the silence between you, not uncomfortably. Without noticing, you started humming the song beneath your breath, and before long you were both singing along, and you could feel the tension seeping out of your shoulders. Once the song ended, you took a deep breath and looked over to see Chris already looking at you. You smiled at him, and he returned it.

"Chris, I gotta, um," you swallowed, "ask you something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Well, I'm just… is this a date? Not that I'm trying to, I don’t know… look, I just want us to be on the same page, I guess, it doesn't have to be a date, I was just, like, wondering."

Real smooth.

"It's fine," Chris chuckled a little, and you kept your eyes trained on the dash before you so you wouldn't have to meet his. "I guess… I don't really know either? We could just… see how it goes?"

"Yeah, alright," you smiled a little, "sounds great. Speaking of going, where are you taking me? Cause, you know, if you're a serial killer that's taking me out in the woods to kill me, I'd rather know now than later."

"I'm not a serial killer, and it's a surprise," he grinned.

"That's exactly what a serial killer would say," you said, playfully narrowing your eyes at him.

He let out a laugh. "Okay, okay, it's a club not far from here. It's a new one, I haven't been there myself yet, so I’d figured we'd check it out?"

"Sure," you grinned at him. The rest of the short drive went by in a flash, and when you got there, Chris darted out of the car to open your door for you.

"Thank you," you giggled.

"After you," he gestured, and you led your way into the club.

Inside, you took in the atmosphere, which was pretty relaxed since it was still early. You and Chris ate a little, engaging in conversation, and before long your drinks arrived. You were about to bring yours to your lips when Chris reached out and stopped you. You looked at him quizzically.

"We have to toast first," he shrugged with a smirk.

"Okay. So, what are we toasting for?"

"To new beginnings," he raised his glass in suggestion.

"To new beginnings," you repeated softly, clinking your glass with his before taking a sip from your drink.

When things picked up a little, you both got to the dance floor. In no time you found your rhythm, dancing together as if it wasn't the first time. The songs were jumpy, upbeat, and you found yourself beaming when Chris spun you around before pulling you back in.

You danced like that for a while, before you both got thirsty, heading to the bar for another drink.

"You wanna get outta here soon?" he asked, raising his voice to make sure you heard him over the loud music.

"Let's go," you said, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him to the exit. You heard his laugh behind you, and you smiled.

"Sorry," you said once you were outside, "the music was getting a little too loud for me," you shrugged.

"Yeah, it kinda was," he agreed with a soft smile. "So, where to next?"

You checked the time on your phone. "I mean, we could go back to my place if you want a coffee, since I doubt anywhere else is open right now."

"Great!" he smiled, and then his eyebrows furrowed a little, "But I guess neither of us should drive, right? I mean, I probably could, I just…"

"Yeah, you're right," you nodded.

"My place is closer to here, actually," he said, "If you want, we could walk there?"

"Alright," you smiled.

You two started walking side by side, silently at first. "What about your car?" you asked.

"I'll come by and get it tomorrow," he shrugged. "I need to get gas anyway. I'm driving upstate again in a couple of days."

"Can't you fly?"

"Not since the last time I checked, when I was four and nearly broke my arm jumping from a tree," he smiled teasingly.

"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes, a smile spreading on your face despite your efforts to stop it. "I mean, wouldn't it be easier if you took a plane instead of driving?"

"Maybe, but I don't like flying that much. It's exhausting."

You simply hummed in reply.

Before long, you were at Chris' house. Again, your mind unhelpfully supplied, vividly reminding you of the last time you were here, which was-

"So, do you want that coffee?" Chris asked when he showed you in, thankfully breaking your train of thought before you could get too zoned out.

"Um yeah, that sounds wonderful," you smiled at him. As you waited on his couch while he went to get the coffee, your eyes wandered around the large room. You didn't really get much of a look at his house before since you were… occupied with other things, but it was really nice, modestly decorated.

As you were looking around, you heard a soft patter of footsteps come up behind you, and you turned around to see Chris concentrating on the two mugs in his hand, trying not to spill anything, his tongue darting out in concentration a little. It made you giggle a little, making him look up at the sudden sound.

"What?" he asked, putting the mugs down carefully.

"Nothing," you smiled.

He eyed you suspiciously before apparently deciding to drop it, since all he did was sit down and pat the space next to him for you to sit in.

You two decided to watch a movie, but honestly, to each of you the other one was way more interesting than the movie.

Your second night with Chris ended up pretty much the same as the first one, with amazing sex and a good night's sleep. And then, slipping away the next morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I just, ugh," you plopped back down on your bed, talking to your friend on the phone, "I don't know."

"Listen, it's only been a few days, and he told you he was going away, I'm sure he'll talk to you soon. Or not," your friend said from the other side of the phone.

"That's comforting," you snorted, flipping onto your stomach.

"Hey, you said it yourself, right? You don't know what you two are. If it was just a hookup, he probably won't call." You opened your mouth to reply, but as if she could sense it, your friend continued before you could. "I'm not being mean, I'm being honest. You don't deserve to get your heart broken."

"I know," you sighed. "Thank you," you said sincerely, "talk to you later."

In the months that followed you saw Chris a few more times, each of them ending in pretty much the same way. Some were at your house, and he was gone in the morning, which in a way confirmed you were… what, friends with benefits? In a casual relationship?

You knew you shouldn't obsess about putting a label to it, because it doesn't really matter, except it did matter to you and you'd really like to know.

But you never brought it up. You liked what you had. It was fun. Really fun.

And every time you would be with him, most of your logical thinking skills would fly out of the window, so there's that. You liked to rationalize you didn't bring it up because you were consciously deciding not to jeopardize what you have, but really, it just doesn't cross your mind when you're with him.

It's weird, because when you're with him, you're incredibly calm, happy really, but when you're not, he makes you so nervous you feel like running to get the fidgety energy out. And running sucks.

Now, you were sitting at your friend's kitchen table as she made herself a coffee.

"Hey," your friend said, her voice laced with strictness and affection, "are you listening to me?"

"Yeah," you nodded, shaking yourself from your reverie.

"Really? Or are you thinking about Chris again?"

"What? No, I was just thinking about-" you started denying it, before your friend simply arched her brow at you, making you sigh. "-Chris. God, am I really that obvious?"

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly before sipping her coffee.

"Sorry," you offered half-heartedly, "I know I'm being annoying, I just… I like him. And I don't know what we are and it's driving me up the wall."

"Hold on, did you just say you liked him?" she looked at you incredulously.

"Yes," you said, although it came out more as a question than a statement.

"Oh honey," she said, sitting down in the chair next to you.

"I know, I know," you sighed looking at the table instead of her, "I shouldn't. But I do," you looked up at her. "That's why I'm… scared," the admission fell past your lips, the last word merely a whisper.

Your friend wrapped her arm around you in comfort, knowing you still needed to talk about it.

"If I just knew what he wanted, this would all be easier, because then I could keep the same mindset. But I don't wanna be annoying and end up embarrassing myself."

"You know what I think about this. You don't deserve to get hurt," she replied, squeezing your shoulders.

"I know, I just really don't know what to do," you sighed.

"If I were you," she started, "I'd tell him I'm seeing someone else."

"What?" you frowned.

"Just my take on it. What's the worst thing that could happen? It's not like you can't break up if you're not together," she shrugged.

"Okay, I get it," you scoffed. "No need to rub it in."

Despite your cynicism, you couldn't help thinking maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Also, it was kind of the only idea you had, so either that or leave things as they were. Not that you were really complaining, I mean, things were wonderful as they are, but the uncertainty was becoming unbearable.

Maybe confronting him about it will be good, whispers a voice of hope in your head.

Yeah, you thought, or maybe it'll bite me in the ass. And not in a fun way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time Chris was in town, he called you on a Friday morning.

"Hey!" he said, and even across the phone you could hear he was excited. It made your heart swell with fondness, a feeling you quickly shook off because, well, you weren't exactly boyfriend and girlfriend, so the only feeling you should have is like, attraction. Right?

"Hey," you said, your voice soft.

"So, I'm in town this weekend, and I was thinking, do you wanna do something?"

"I guess," you said, a smile sneaking onto your face, "What'd you have in mind?"

"You'll see," he said, and you could practically hear his smirk, "Just bring an overnight bag."

An overnight b-

"Yeah, sure," you said, your mouth speaking before your brain caught up, and shit, that seems to happen entirely too often when you were talking to him.

"Great! So I'll see you tonight?"

"See you," you agreed, ending the call, not before he told you he'd pick you up at seven.

Well, now all you had to do was pack an overnight bag for somewhere without knowing where, which was just… splendid.

Stifling your groan of frustration, you got up to do just that.

Just like always, when Chris came to pick you up and you got into his car, a smile came onto your face, your previous frustration now replaced with near-giddiness. Focus, you told yourself, you should be telling him you're seeing someone else.

But you didn't, not yet obviously, since you just got into his car. That'd be an extremely weird way to start a conversation.

"Hi," you greeted instead, smiling at him.

"Hey," he grinned, barely waiting for you to get your seatbelt on before he started driving.

"So, where are we going that's got you so excited, you're willing to risk getting into a car accident?" you chuckled.

"It's a surprise, and I'm not risking anything," he rolled his eyes.

"Sure you aren't, mad max," you quipped, making him laugh. "And last time I checked, there's nowhere called 'a surprise'."

He chuckled. "C'mon, you'll see for yourself, we're almost there."

And indeed, a few minutes later he was slowing down and turning to a road that led into a forest.

"Okay, seriously Chris, where are we going?"

"Relax, we're not lost. I know exactly where we are."

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'huh, maybe you are a serial killer after all', but yeah, that's reassuring," you raised your brows at him.

"If I were a serial killer I would've killed you already," he rolled his eyes at your antics.

"That's exactly-"

"What a serial killer would say," he completed your sentence, huffing out a laugh, "I figured."

You giggled at that, relaxing into your seat. You weren't actually worried, but it was nice to know you haven’t been fucking a serial killer for the last few months.

Sooner rather than later Chris parked the car, meaning you arrived, but you didn't really see where exactly you are until you got out. Then, you saw a small clearing in the woods, with what seemed like the remains of a fire in the middle of it.

"Okay, so we ruled out the serial killer option," you called out to Chris, who was busy opening the trunk of the car, "The way I see it you're either gonna sacrifice me in a weird satanic ritual or this is a camping site."

"Well, I considered the first one but it just seemed like a lot of effort," he teased, "Yeah, this is a camping site."

"Awesome," you chuckled, getting your bag. "Do you need help with anything or…"

"Oh, no, just wait a second and I'll get it all out," he said, already lifting his bag out and what seemed like the bag of a tent.

You did as he said and waited by the remains of the campfire. And you know, maybe also ogling him a bit as he carried the bags over.

"So," he started when he put the bags down, "I think we should put up the camp first, before the sun completely sets and then we won't be able to see what we're doing."

"Sounds like a good idea," you smiled.

You two started putting up the tent, a task that was harder than you realized, the flexible poles getting disconnected while you were moving them through the fabric and poking you in the stomach one unfortunate time.

By the time the sun was setting, you were getting pretty sulky, and it didn't escape Chris' attention. "C'mon, now's the most satisfying part," he smiled.

Starting to put up the poles, the tent turned from a pile of fabric and plastic to a tall tent in a matter of minutes.

"Okay, this is the most satisfying part," you laughed a little when you saw the results of your handiwork.

While Chris was setting up the fire, you were rummaging through the food he brought, because you were getting snacky. Just when you found the marshmallows, Chris asked, "So when's the last time you built a tent? Besides right now, I mean."

"Ummm… I don't know. Probably when I was really little," you shrugged.

"I come out here pretty often when I can," he said, "It's nice". You turned to look at him, but he was still messing around with the wood.

"What've you been up to lately then?" he smiled when he was finally done lighting the fire, turning his gaze up to look at you.

Well, it's now or never.

"There's this guy that offered me to hang out sometime," you said as casually as you could, "Mike."

Mike? Really? That's the name you came up with?

You thought you saw Chris' jaw clench, but maybe it was just the lack of light playing tricks on you. When he said nothing you continued. "He's nice."

It was like his whole demeanor had changed in the span of seconds, from smiling and relaxed his muscles tensed, and his jaw was definitely clenched.

"Okay," was the only thing he said after a few moments.

The only thing disturbing the silence were the sounds of nature and the crackling fire. You had a beer with him, and still, silence.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. He just hummed in response, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"Earth to Chris?" you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

"I'm here," he chuckled. "So anyways, did you?"

"What?"

"Did you hang out with Mike?"

"Oh, that," you said, "would it have mattered if I did?" you took a swig of your beer.

"Yes," he said lowly.

"Yes?" you turned to look at him so quickly your neck nearly snapped. He was still looking ahead into the fire.

"I mean," he turned his eyes to you, "What about us?"

"Oh, suddenly now we're an 'us'?" you rolled your eyes, "that's wonderful, Chris. Really, it is. You’re barely here, and when you are, we fuck and you leave, and now this? Maybe I should hang out with Mike," you mumbled the last part.

"If that's how you feel," he said.

You were both quiet for the rest of the night, going to sleep in separate sleeping bags. It was cold, and all you wanted to do was crawl into Chris' bag with him to steal some warmth, but your pride wouldn't let you.

In the morning, you woke up to find the tent empty. You rubbed your eyes and went outside, squinting against the morning sun.

"Good morning," Chris greeted quietly. He was sitting next to where the fire was last night, now obviously reduced to lumps of coal, and if that didn't perfectly represent your mood, you didn't know what did.

"Morning," you replied curtly.

"You know, about yesterday, I-"

"No, I don't know," you burst out. "Or at least I didn’t know, and it drove me crazy, thinking about what the hell I was to you, what we… are we even a 'we'?" you shrugged helplessly. "But I guess now I know, so thanks for that one."

"I'm sorry," he said, coming closer to you.

"Yeah, whate-"

"I'm sorry you felt that way. I shouldn’t have left things so up in the air. I should've told you how much I liked you from the start, instead of doing… whatever it is we've been doing. I'm sorry you felt like I didn't want you, because I do," his eyes pierced into yours. "I'm sorry I didn't say that sooner."

"I- you like me?" you asked, eyes going wide.

"I do," he smiled timidly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry I was being a bitch earlier," you mumbled.

"It's okay, it’s re-"

"Do you accept my apology?" you cut him off with a smile.

"Yeah, of course."

"Great."

You walked the last few steps between you, closing the distance and planting your lips on his.

Every other time you kissed Chris, there was a rush to it, an aroused urgency, the knowledge of what it would lead to. But now there was the sweet promise of something more. You didn't know exactly what that was, but it made your heart hum in joy and your belly do somersaults.

Later, you found out the promise was happiness.

You felt it when you finally went on your first official "date date" with Chris. You felt it when he kissed you goodnight and good morning and everything in between. You even felt it when he found out Mike wasn't real and he laughed, and honestly you laughed too, because it was pretty funny.

Really, you felt it every time you were with Chris. Which was convenient, since, as he told you on several occasions, he wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans imagine

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wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years

Text

Momo Yayorozu is a lesbian and just doesn’t know it yet.

my computer died half way through writing this and none of it saved so while I love momo I am done with it.

Omega! Yayorozu x Alpha! Reader.

warnings: light smut,

word count: 2,300 (about)

summary: You and momo are good friends, you just wished you were a little more.

Yayorozu’s hands were unusally soft for a hero. I mean you’d think with all the fighting she did that she would have at least a few callouses on her hands but no, they were always so soft. Not that you were all that surprised, she probably had some fancy lotion that cost a fortune and worked miracles. Her hands were on you now, slowly working out the kinks in your shoulders.

“You really need to be more careful (y/n) you could seriously hurt yourself if you keep trying to spar while you aren’t properly stretched out,” she scolded lightly. You knew she was right, but if this was the treatment you get for not stretching, you couldn’t complain. Her scent was soft, like cherry blossoms and citrus.

“Not that I don’t apricate this Momo, but people might get the wrong idea if you stay so close to an Alpha,” you warned and felt her freeze for a minute.

“I don’t care, Everyone knows were just friends anyway,” she said and you felt a sharp spear pierce your heart. that’s right, you were just friends. And of course, no one would think twice about Momo rubbing your shoulders, she was straight after all.

The two of you were still surprisingly close for an Alpha and Omega to be. It hurt a little bit each time she took your hand in hers, or cuddled up next to you during class movie nights.

Even though you had no chance, it was hard not to fall in love with her.

“(y/n)?” Momo prompted and you realized she had asked you something while you were spacing out.

“Sorry what was that?” you asked

“Do you want to get boba?” she asked picking up her gym bag and you followed her.

“Sure,” you agreed and a wide smile spreading across her face making your heart do funny things. “my treat,” you added. and her smile evaporated turning into a stubborn pout.

“(y/n) why do you never let me spoil you?” she whinned hanging off your arm dramatically maing you chuckle. you placed your hand on her lower back steadying her.

“Come on Momo it’s just my Alpha instinct, You don’t want to hurt my pride do ya?” you shrugged and she huffed.

“Okay but I’m paying next time,” she said and you agreed placidly.

The boba shop wasn’t too far from the gym you worked out at, momo staid on your arm as you walked. She leaned her head on your shoulder as you waited in line making your heart skip a beat. you looked around the small boba shop at the other people, and you wondered if they thought you were a couple.

“Hey (y/n) will you order for me? I need the bathroom,” Momo said squeezing your hand and pulling away from you. instantly you missed her closeness.

“sure,” you said with a nod. and turned your attention back to the line thinking about what she would want. Normally she got the brown sugar milk tea but maybe you’d surprise her with the caramel one instead.

You placed your order and waited patiently for your name to be called, then you felt a small tap on your shoulder. When you turned you saw a short yellow-haired omega girl looking up at you, a bright pink blush across her round cheeks.

“Can I help you?” you asked polielty,

“Oh! sorry I was just wondering if that girl you were with was your mate,” she asked and you did your best not to grimace. It wasn’t her fault so there was no use getting mad at her.

“No, we’re just friends,” you admitted. She beamed

“Oh! well my name is Peko and uhm i just think you’re gorgeous and I was wondering if you’d want to go out with me?” She offered, for an omega she was certainly bold. Suddenly Momo was back at your side, her hand taking its place in yours.

“A friend of yours?” she asked. you squeezed her hand and turned your attention back to Peko.

“I’m sorry, you seem like a very sweet Omega but I’m a UA student and I’m too busy to date anyone right now, I’m sorry,” you said and winced as she deflated.

“It’s alright, It was nice to meet you!” she said before scurrying over to her own friends.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward,” Momo said

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a shrug then to lighten the mood you elbowed her lightly.

“Rejecting girls isn’t any big deal for a heartbreaker like me,” you teased wiggling your eyebrows

“Oh how could I forget Omega’s just love you don’t they,” she giggled.

Momo couldn’t stop thinking about your interactions today. For some reason it felt wrong to see you with another Omega, one that was flirting with you no less. and even though you had said it as a joke, she couldn't help but think that you really were a “babe magnet” as Denki would put it. It made her uncomfortable for some reason.

Maybe it was because if you stopped spending so much time with her you would have enough time for a mate. No, you were her best friend, you wouldn't just drop her like that, even if your future mate demanded it. Momo knew that if her future Alpha ever suggested she spend less time with you she would drop him in a heartbeat. No Alpha was worth losing you over. but what if you didn’t feel the same way about her? the idea gnawed at her.

While she had never asked it, Momo had always sort of assumed the two of you would stick together after graduation, maybe even move in together once you both started working. She could very clearly see herself coming home to you after a long day of work and relaxing in your arms. or dancing around the kitchen together while you thought her how to cook.

But maybe that was just a fantasy in her head.

Her skin felt hot, itchy. Signs of her upcoming heat. She started moving around the room picking at her nest and rearranging it lightly. it was made of soft blankets and stuffed animals on her enormous bed. and at the heart of her nest was a collection of items you’d scented for her.

There were other items scented by alphas, but they were on the outskirts of her bed. None of them offered the comfort your scent did. Fermilar, soft, warm, protective. She wondered if she’d ever find an Alpha who smelled as good as you did.

Her phone buzzed and she saw you had texted her. You wished her a good night, and told her that you would be stopping by after class to check on her, so she should text you if she needed anything. Momo smiled and wondered if she could sucker you into to Facetiming with her so she could fall asleep with you. She knew you would, You always spoiled her when she was this close to her heat. You were going to make some omega really happy one day.

Momo woke up late the next day, a dull ache set in to her whole body. She whimpered and checked her phone. Just another text from you telling her good morning and reminding her to text if she needed anything. She really did love you, as much as a best friend could love somone.

Momo rolled on her side and brought her favorite hoodie to her nose breathing in your scent, which relaxed the pain some but also brought on a pang of longing in her core. She sighed, breathing in again, this was going to be a long day.

You spent the whole day fidgeting and nervously tapping on your desk. It was hard to focus on the lesson being thought when your omega was out hurting. It was wrong to be so possessive of Yaoyorozu but you couldn’t help the flare of hormones that just so happened to hit you everytime she went into heat.

You checked your phone religiously, Momo texted you as soon as she woke up telling you that she had everything she need but still wanted to see you after class. But that didn’t stop the fidgity way you checked your messages, after all you needed to know if she changed her mind.

The second the bell rang you bolted out of the room, tearing to the dorm room grabbing a convenience store bag full of treats for her before tripping over yourself to get to her room. Even if Momo claimed she didn’t need anything you would sooner turn up dead than show up empty-handed.

You took one deep breath before knocking at the door.

“(y/n)?” she asked

“Yeah Princess it’s me can I come in?” you asked. Princess was a special nickname you only used when she was hurt or in heat,

“The doors unlocked,” she replied and you took that as your queue to enter. To most Alphas, it would be maddening to walk into a room with an in heat Omega, but it was strangely calming for you. your nerves subsided as you saw Momo curled in her nest wearing one of your old hoodies.

“You shouldn’t leave the door unlocked its dangerous,” you chided softly, placing the bag on her side table and sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, careful not to intrude on her nest.

“ ‘snot dangerous, I have you to protect me,” she whinned. You alpha let out a deep internal purr. That was right, you were her alpha and you were going you protect her better than anyone else could.

“Still you need to be careful when I’m not around Princess,”

“stop scolding me, come cuddle,” she huffed rolling her eyes and opening her arms.

“are you sure? You want me in your nest?”

“(y/n) you make up half of my nest now come here.” You thought about teasing her for being so bossy but decided against it. crawling over tward her and taking her warm body into your arms. Momo’s arms locked around you like a vice, you got comfortable knowing you’d be there for a while.

she buried her nose in the crook of your neck breathing in your scent and her hands went to your hair, running her fingers through it softly. You held her just as tight, your hands trailing up and down the curve of her back.

“Missed you today,” you said into her hair, her breath tickled your neck as she spoke

“I missed you more,”

“Now way you missed me more. You have a million things I scented for you it’s not the same,” you protested

“Did too miss you more, I’m in heat I needed my Alpha!” She shot back. you froze uner her and she pulled back, confused at your sudden change in mood.

“Momo, you can’t say stuff like that,” you said gravely serious, then seeing the confusion on her face you contued.

“you’re still an Omega, and one in heat for that, it does things to me when you say that,” you growled.

Momo’s thighs clenched together, it was deeply appealing to know she could rile you up so easily. Her hands moved to your stomach feeling the soft skin and bit her lower lip. She had never realised how much she needed to touch you. at that moment it didn’t mater to her that you were her friend, and a girl, she just wanted more of you.

“so, It turns you on when I call you Alpha?” she asked. it was very unladylike of her, but worth it to see the blood rush to your face,

“Momo-”

“or is it the needing you part? because that was true I needed you so badly all day Alpha,” before she could even blink you had fliped her onto her back and crashed your mouth to hers. She responded eagerly, kissing you with a passion she didn’t even know she had. It was exhilarating to kiss you and feel your body press down on hers. it felt right.But as soon as it started it ended.

“Damn it,” you growled, angry at yourself for losing control. you forced yourself off the bed leaving momo dazed behind. Your mouth still buzzed, it had been everything you had ever dreamed of to kiss her.

“I’m sorry Momo,” you said running your hand through your hair. “I should go,” you said, the smell was starting to get to you in a way it never had before, every instinct was telling you to kiss her again.

“wait, (y/n) please,” she called, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back, she was too close and you pounced again. Kissing her ferociously, your tongue slipping past her soft pink lips. you moaned into her touch before ripping yourself away again. Fuck she was delicious.

“I can’t control myself, I need to go,” you growled.

“I love you (y/n) please stay. I want you to kiss me like that, I meant it when I said I needed you,” she pleaded, tears forming in her perfect gray eyes. you whipped her eyes and kissed her softly.

“you mean that Princess?” you asked against her mouth, your hands lost in her thick black hair. she nodded, leaning in to kiss you this time.

“I love you so much,” she said you pushed her back, laying yourself out across her chest. as you savored her kisses.

“I’ve loved you for the longest time,” you said.

“then you’ll keep kissing me?” she asked making you laugh.

“mmhmm babygirl I’m all yours.”

#alpha momo #momo yaoyozoru #momo x reader #imagine momo #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia abo #my hero academia head cannon

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wisewidow · 4 years

Text

Cloudy With A Chance Of Assassination

PAIRING: Yelena Belova x Reader

SUMMARY: My new girlfriend takes meeting the relatives to a whole new level.

It's cloudy up ahead, but patches of sunlight leak through certain gaps like chinks in the sky's armour, and a warm silver lines the clouds as the sun sets behind them. There are no pink or orange hues in the sunset this cloudy evening, just tinted blue and cream with grey mountains in the distance and muted coloured trees at their bases. I have one hand on the wheel of the car Yelena and I just bought together, a sleek black Fiesta, and the other on my partner in crime's thigh. She has her window rolled down, the high speed we're going at blowing her golden hair everywhere. I drum my fingertips along the wheel as an upbeat song starts to play.

She's lost in the clouds, I can tell. I ask her if she's imagining pictures out of the white puffs, but either the roaring wind at one ear or the song at her other is blocking her from hearing my words.

I squeeze her thigh. She smacks my hand and glances sideways at me, mossy green eyes playful. I allow myself a single glance before looking back at the road. "I asked what you're seeing in the clouds."

She turns the radio dial down. "What?"

I snort. "Nevermind."

"You wanted attention?"

I flip her the bird, earning a boisterous laugh from her. "You were!"

I mimic her accent in a high-pitched voice. "You were totally like, give me attention! Because I'm Yelena Belova and I'm so special!"

"I don't sound like that," she objects. "You once said, and I quote, 'your voice is deep and sexy, like if a dressage horse could speak.'"

I frown. "I don't remember that. Was I drunk?"

"You were trying to outdrink me."

"Oh. Were you cheating? I don't black out that easily."

"No, I wasn't. And yes, you do."

I grumble and turn the radio up again. She hums along to the song, Snap Out Of It by the Arctic Monkeys. We drive until the sun goes down, or at least until I notice her energetic nature die down like a used battery. I search up the nearest motel on my phone and by the time I've pulled in, she's asleep.

I switch the engine off and relax into my seat. I allow myself a few seconds to admire the girl beside me.

I met her through a friend of mine, who lived in the apartment beside hers. I'd visit frequently, and she noticed and eventually grew tired of me oggling her everytime I passed her on the way out. So she coerced me into drinking too much red wine and then sent me over to her door, drunk and giggling.

I didn't know much about her past. She's from Russia, and she sometimes jokes that she's actually a trained assassin. She grew up in a foster home, got close with a girl named Natalia, who ended up living in the Big Apple as a high school teacher with a husband who renovates houses. She calls her every other week before bed, I think, when I spend the night and she thinks I'm asleep. I never hear what they're saying, but I enjoy falling into slumber listening to the soft hum of her voice through the plaster walls.

I admire her small, round, button nose, the even slope of her jawline, her long lashes that brush against her subtly tanned skin. We've only been dating for two months, but I'm positive I'm im love with her. We haven't exchanged those words yet, though. The car is actually our first and only big step.

I gently shake her shoulders to wake her up, and she grumbles sleepily as she shifts and peeks up at me. "Where are we?"

"Motel. Didn't feel like driving home. Come on, lazy bones, let's get you a pillow."

Once we're settled in a room, stripped of jeans and bras so we're just wearing shirts and underwear, I drift off with my head on her shoulder and my hand wrapped around her stomach.

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the dried drool in the corner of my mouth. I don't think much of it other than the teasing I'd endure in the morning when Yelena finds out I drooled on her.

I pull her closer and then frown.

I am holding a pillow.

My girlfriend is not said pillow.

I rub my eyes and sit up. It's still dark outside, and the clock on my phone reads three in the morning. I scan the room for her figure, but I can't see her silhouette lingering in any of the shadowed corners. I frown and push the duvet off of my body, shivering slightly as I maneuver around the bed and into the bathroom.

No sign of her.

I'm starting to get worried.

Quickly, I grab my jeans — at least I think they're mine — and force my legs through them. I slip my phone in my pocket and head to the door.

It's locked, which doesn't make sense, because my current assumption that Yelena had gone out for a quick smoke would mean that she wouldn't have gone far enough to warrant locking the door.

I swallow down the bad feeling in my gut and step outside.

The upper wrap-a-round level of the motel showed no people in sight. I head to the stairs and down to the front desk, where a young man with purple streaks in his hair sits, droopy-eyed and scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

"Um, excuse me, sir?" I ask tentatively, rubbing the goosebumps off my arms. I hadn't brought my jacket.

His eyes flick up to meet mine. "Sir? You're friendlier than your girlfriend."

"I'm assuming you mean the blonde, very pretty, homicidal-looking woman I came in with?"

He sighs, turning his phone down. "Look, this is a motel. Things like this happen a lot. My advice is to run before the wife sees you."

I stare at him blankly.

He stares back.

"Uh, what?"

"A tall redheaded woman came by, stole your girl for a talk. They were squabbling about you. I assumed . . . oh. You didn't know. Well, who knows, could be a relative or something."

My heart hammers against my ribcage wildly. I have to keep reminding myself that Yelena loves me, that she wouldn't cheat on me, or cheat on anyone else with me, or . . . I feel myself becoming pale. Her scars, I'd never thought much of them, but with her mysterious past, and this mysterious paramour? She was running away from the woman who had now found her.

"Where did they go?" I demand, anger rushing through my veins.

He shakes his head, looking sympathetic. "I've seen this play out before, trust me when I say you don't want to confront—"

"Tell me where they went or I will make you swallow your own fist."

He recoils. "Christ, fine, they're in the parking lot. For the record, I hope you get a good slappin'!"

I speed walk out of the motel and around the back, adrenaline rushing. I stop when I spot two figures under a streetlight by my car, one taller and waving her arms around as she speaks and the other, unmistakably my Yelena, glaring up with her arms crossed.

I march over to them. Their heads snap in my direction almost immediately. The redheaded woman pulls out a gun and aims it at me.

I yelp and freeze, hands up in surrender. Yelena yells something in Russian and smacks the weapon out of her hands before rushing towards me. "(Y/N), what are you doing?"

"We're leaving," I say, completely freaked out. "Right now. You run, tell the guy in the office to call 911. I'll fight her off."

"What? No! (Y/N), this is my sister! She's just paranoid."

I gape at her. "I thought she was a science teacher!"

"I told you we should have met somewhere else," the redhead hisses.

Yelena spits back in Russian.

"No, no Russian! Explanation, now!" I turn to the woman. "You're Natalia?"

"Natasha."

"Okay, Natasha the science teacher who owns a gun, what are you doing here?"

Her lips tighten into a fine line. "I'm not a science teacher, I'm an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I wasn't expecting Yelena to have company when I came here to drag her back home."

Yelena starts spurting more angry Russian words that mean nothing to me as I try to process what's happening. The two sisters argue for a solid two minutes while I decide I must be dreaming.

The lies. The scars. The mystery. The jokes about being an assassin.

This is a living nightmare.

I turn and walk away.

Yelena calls out, "(Y/N)! Wait!"

I don't stop until I've reached our room, where I promptly grab my jacket and bra and shove them in my bag.

"(Y/N), don't leave," Yelena begs when she catches up, blocking the doorway with her body. "Let me explain, love, please."

"Get out of my way," I snap.

She doesn't flinch, doesn't turn around as she closes the door and backs up against it as if to provide another barrier between me and the world she's trying to hide.

"Yelena," I warn.

"Let me explain," she pleads.

I stare her down, but she doesn't seem to be budging any time soon. I drop my bag on the floor and sit on the bed with my arms crossed, glaring at her. "Fine. Enlighten me."

She slowly eases away from the door. "I didn't lie to you about everything. I'm one hundred percent Russian, and I consider Natalia to be my sister, and we did grow up together. But we were trained together, too. As assassins."

"Fuck," I mutter.

She kneels down in front of me. "I got away from that life, I swear. And I met you and everything after that was the realist thing I'd ever had. I really love video games, and I really love your pancakes, and I really, really love you."

My glare softens.

"Even if you can't cook," she says.

I give her a semi-playful, semi-annoyed shove.

"You said be honest, don't hit me!"

I stand up and pace the room nervously. This time, she sits down on the bed. I mutter under my breath, gnawing on my thumbnail, until, finally, I sit down beside her.

"Okay, deal breaker. Do you know Captain America?"

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x you #florence pugh #wlw x reader #marvel wlw #marvel x reader #florence pugh x reader

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wolfish-trickster · 4 years

Text

Advent kisses

6/24

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1 201

Summary: Instead of chocolates, kisses are going to be recieved everyday until Christmas.

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @modestlyabsurd @winterfrostsarmy @spaceyempress @thefridgeismybestie @laramoonworld

Thor and Loki really loved your scrambled eggs. Loki even asked if you could teach him cook something more. Of course you said yes. After the kiss and a hug from behind today, what will tomorrow bring?

The rest of the day was pretty normal. Loki was a little tetchy whenever someone interrupted your highly intellectual discussion about Edward Scissorhands but nothing unusual.

As you were falling asleep, your brain started to replay all those wonderful moments that happened in the past days.

Anxiety sucked. You already recieved 5 kisses from the man you are starting to have a crush on. You wanted to kiss him too. But what if he didn't want to? What if he's just playing with you? You needed to talk to someone.

"Hi Nat, can I ask you something?" you dragged her away from tha hall to Movie room. It looked like a small cinema, all of you usually used it for movie nights. Tony's idea, obviously.

"Sure but why couldn't you ask me in the hall?"

"Security cameras. I don't want anyone to hear or see it..." you said sheepishly.

"I taught you well."

"But you didn't teach me everything. There is this one guy and he already kissed me few times. Not on the lips though. And I want to give him a little kiss too. Do you think I can? You are better at reading people than me."

"I think you'll be fine. Loki's a changed man now. I don't think he will push you away." "How did you...?"

Your dear spy friend only winked at you. "Loki isn't very affectionate with anyone but you. I didn't even need my training skills to see that. Besides, now that I know he's not completely evil I wouldn't mind a kiss from him," she teased you.

You playfuly punched her on your way out of the dark room. There was a soft tapping coming from around the corner. You looked at nearby window. It was raining again. 'Perfect time to read,' you thought as you turned away from the window. A loud noise shook the whole building, scaring the hell out of you. So no soft rain. A thunder. Perfect. You can go to Loki, read with him, talk to him, hopefully cuddle him and having the courage to kiss him.

The closer you got to library, the more restless the butterflies got in your stomach. 'Hold it together, nothing will happen to you. It' s just an innocent kiss.'

The library was empty. No sign of Loki. Strange. He's usually either here or spends time with other boys, but they are all busy.

You decided to check his room. Worry started to gnaw you. This is so unlike for Loki to stay in his room.

A one soft knock. Two. No answer. The door silently cracked as you opened it. His room was dark, the widnow blinds were occasionally illuminated by lightning. There was a big lump in his bed. Familiar black locks were sticking out from below the blanket that covered the whole lump. 'Is he still asleep?'

You slowly walked towards the bed. Trembling hand landed on the blanket, slowly pulling it down, revealing the top half of prince's body. He was laying on his side, facing you. Headphones on his head were pressed to his ears by his hands, as if he was trying to block out the storm with music. His eyes slowly opened, pure embarrassment in them.

You sat down beside him, eyes still on his face. "Are you alright?" what a stupid question. Loki wasn't alright, especially when he acted like this.

He sat up and removed his headphones, giving you full attention. "No. I'm not."

"Do you- do you want to talk about it?"

Loki slowly looked down at your hands. "Thor was a moody child. With every temper tantrum came thunderstorm. Either only in the room he was in or in the whole palace. They always came unexpected and lasted for hours. I know it's been a long time ago. I'm not affraid of them anymore, but they are still very unpleasant."

You didn't know what to say. Your mouth opened and let out a complete stupidity. "What were you listening to?" gosh, you were stupid. He was pouring his heart out and you told him this?!

"Slipknot. It's loud enough."

It was quiet for few minutes. If you ignore the rumbling outside. He was looking at you with sad eyes. Your own were resting at his soft black t-shirt while your mind was working. He soothed your nerves once, now it's your turn. But how? What would distract him from the storm?

You stood up, scaring Loki a little. He looked at you with glossy eyes, as if he was sad you're leaving him. "Give me your phone," you said with your hand stretched towards him.

"Pardon?" he asked confused.

"Your phone. I have an idea but I need a phone for that. I left mine at my room, but that's too far away and I don't want to leave you."

He fished the device from underneath his pillow, unplugged headphones and gave it to you. You smiled brightly as you searched through youtube, looking for the right song to dance to. You set for Soldier, Poet, King by The Oh Hellos. Everytime you hear it, you think of Loki.

Another loud crash came from the outside, startling both of you. Loki started to shiver.

"What's your plan little one?"

You pressed play and put the phone on his bedside table. You took his hands. "Dance with me. It will distract you, I promise."

You slowly pulled him from his bed. He let you. With your hands connected you lead him into the center of his room, and started to move. It was silly, really. A twirl here, a step there. But it made him smile. Soon both of you were in your own silly world of dancing.

After the song ended youtube algorithm picked you a slow romantic dance. It was too quiet. You wanted to change it to something happier but Loki didn't let you. He put his hands on your waist and hugged you closely. You put your arms around his neck and cuddled to him. Your face hidden in his t-shirt, inhaling the soft scent of pine trees. You couldn't believe it, you were slow dancing with Loki! Another loud crack of the thunder shook the room. Loki held you even closer to him. "Could you please stay until the thunder ends? Please?"

You looked up at him. "Of course, I would never leave you in this state."

It was now or never. You stood up on your toes and kissed his jawline. He was so tall the jawline was the only place you could reach. You never expected his skin to be so warm. After you ended the short but sweet kiss you nuzzled his neck. A mistake. If you didn't hide your face you could've seen a blushing but smiling god of mischief.

A/N: why Slipknot? Because-

(Plus I was listening to one of their songs while writing this...)

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki fluff #fluffy loki #christmas fic #the avengers

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lunacyxxx · 4 years

Text

Your shoes hit the concrete of the sidewalk as you ran trying to ignore the numerous shouts behind you, the sound of your beating heart echoed in your ears as well. Your mind was racing, you were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time while walking home from your last class, your curiosity got the best of you when you stumbled upon a drug deal going wrong.

You knew and heard rumors about the mafia being in town, but you didn’t think they’d be this close to your neighbourhood. Turning down an alley, you pushed your body to keep going; tears pricked in your eyes and you wiped them away when you saw the street your house was on come into view. Your rejoice was cut short when a sleek black car skidded to a stop in front of you swinging the door open, before you could stop you skidded into a pair of heavily tattooed arms that wrestled you into the backseat of the vehicle.

A cloth was pressed to your nose and you ended up inhaling the bizarre sweet scent that came from it, black dots claimed your vision while a male with black hair and blue eyes smirked down at you.

You woke up with a gasp as cold water was dumped over your body, you cough and struggle slightly to wipe your face only to find your arms tied behind you. You were on your knees and you could feel ropes digging into the skin of your legs, your limbs were bound making your calves press against your thighs. Someone clears their throat and you finally look up to a white haired male with red eyes, behind him were two other people as well.

You could recognize the tattooed dude who dragged you into the car and knocked you out with the chloroform drenched rag, there’s a blonde that’s smirking at you standing next to the black haired man. An audible gulp escapes your mouth once the guy who seems to be the leader starts to speak.

“I’m gonna just cut to the chase here you dumb girl, first of all how much did you see and hear,” the lanky male circled around your form and you nervously lick your lips before answering with a shaky voice. “I only saw when the money and stuff was being exchanged, and when someone pointed out that the money was counterfeit, I turned to leave when things got serious and one of the guys saw me and that’s when they started chasing me.”

“I was surprised at your speed though Babybird, you almost got away from me,” your eyes trail to meet golden ones. You couldn’t tell if the marks by his eyes were makeup or birthmarks, something glints in his hand and you’re shivering now. “I wasn’t done speaking Hawks,” Shigaraki crouched down in front of you and took your chin in his hold.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put a bullet in this pretty little head of yours.”

Your breath hitches and you look between the three males, it finally clicked in your mind that you were dealing with the mafia and you swore they could possibly hear your heartbeat too. “Awe c’mon Shigs, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She seems like a really good girl too, she hasn’t put up a fight or anything either. What’s your name, even though I’m still gonna call you Songbird or Babybird.”

“Its Y/n,” Keigo nods and a ring cuts through the silence. It’s the personal ringtone you have set for Katsuki, you and him were best friends. He had ‘practice’ today so he wasn’t able to walk you home today, “Katsuki? Ah, I’ve heard about that kid. He’s a really good student with a shitty personality though. And he’s involved with Deku’s gang.”

You honestly forgot Shigaraki and Dabi were in the room until the white haired male spoke, “Do what you need to do then get her cleaned up before she gets a fever. I don’t need a cold floating around here,” you heard the door close leaving both you and Hawks alone.

Katsuki never told you he was participating in the mafia.

“Let’s answer this phone call shall we?”

“Wait! Please don’t,” Hawks ignores you and he props the phone up before answering the video call and walking back in front of you.

“Hey Shitty Girl, you didn’t call when you got home so I- what the fuck?”

The blonde’s red eyes were wide as he took in the sight of you bound on your knees, he felt awful for getting slightly aroused.

Hawks brought up a chair behind you and sat down pulling you back to lean against his form, fingers decorated with a few rings circled around your throat. The cold barrel of the gun lightly taps the edge of your jaw making you flinch and lean away, “How bout we play a game? Let’s meet up, but you have a few things to tell me first before you get your precious girl-.”

“Listen you cockatoo reject, Y/n has nothing to do with anything that fucking happens between our group and yours so let her go.”

A short scream escapes your mouth when the ceiling is shot, “I wasn’t finished you explosive brat.” Hawks’ grip tightened on your neck as he placed the hot barrel against your inner thigh making you cry out and squirm. “Everytime you cuss and or interrupt me, this cutie right here gets burned. Be mindful of what you do or say because I don’t plan on wasting the last bullet.”

Your breath comes out in short pants and Keigo releases the hold on your neck to take a hold of your jaw making you face Katsuki, you plead with your eyes towards your friend who grits his teeth. “What the f-what do you want from me?”

“First of all, a shame you kept this cutie hidden away. I guess you just wanted to be a good friend and keep her safe, you calling just made things a lot easier though.” Katsuki sucked his teeth and crossed his arms, “We’re gonna meet up and you’ll give me all of your gang’s current plans. If I find out or suspect you’re lying, this cutie right here is gonna suffer the consequences of your actions. I’ll be sending you the address shortly.”

“You bastard, I’d rather fucking die than give up that damn nerd Deku,” Katsuki immediately regretted his words when another gunshot rang out and your scream echoed through the speakers on his end. The tip of the gun was pressed up higher on your inner thigh then Keigo shot the ceiling for a third time and dragged the barrel of the gun from your hip up making your shirt ride up.

You were panting and whimpering, your body shivering from the cool air, Keigo let out a small groan. “I wonder what other sounds you can make Babybird. We can possibly find out now maybe?” A look was in Keigo’s and Katsuki hated it, the younger blond gnawed at his lip, mixed emotions were flowing around his mind. Katsuki was possibly just as guilty as the other male, the sight of you bound, water dripping off your body excited him.

The way your chest heaves with every breath you take, “Like I said. I’ll send you the address and you better be on your way as soon as you get the text.” Before Bakugo could speak, Hawks reached over and hung up the phone. His golden eyes landed on you, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You could feel the ropes coming undone and you rubbed your arms then legs to get the blood flowing through them.

“You’re not gonna hurt him are you?”

“That all depends on how he decides to approach this whole situation, truth be told you should worry about yourself.” Hawks had a sly smile on his face before he picked you up leading you through the same doors Dabi and Tomura used. You were led through what seemed like a maze of halls before Keigo stopped at a door, “This is my room. There’s a bathroom in there for you to use and we can just grab something of mine for you to wear, after that we’re gonna meet your friend so don’t take too long or try anything.”

You nodded and he unlocked the door ushering you in before coming in and pointing to the bathroom, your feet lead you to the door before opening it.

The bathroom was simple, a bit larger than the one at your home but you knew this was the base of their operations so there was no need for extravagant spaces here. Keigo taps your shoulder and you jump lightly, folded up in his hands is a pair of sweats and a shirt. You thank him softly and take the clothing before closing the door, after about twenty minutes you were done and you come out seeing your captor laid out on his bed texting away.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road,” he smiles at you but your gut tells you something more is gonna happen. He takes you by your wrist and leaves with you trailing behind him, “You don’t have to be so scared Babybird. I don’t think I have it in me to actually hurt that pretty little face of yours unless you’re into stuff like that. I don’t kink shame.”

You sputter softly and your cheeks redden brightly, Hawks laughs shaking his head and soon you’re being pushed into yet another car; Keigo slides in beside you resting his hand on your thigh.

Katsuki doesn’t tell anyone about the ordeal that he’s in, he knew that if he did Deku would want to wait it out and make some dumbass plan. Katsuki was always protective of you, seeing you bound like that in front of the other blond made him upset yet turned on. He watched his phone until it lit up with the text containing the address, Bakugo was already pacing in front of his door beforehand.

Exiting his home, he plugged the address into his maps and saw that it was only a fifteen minute walk. He made sure that the hood of his jacket was up to stop anyone he knew from recognizing him being out this late.

Katsuki stood in front of what seemed to be a penthouse and snorted before ringing the buzzer to be let in.

Hawks gave you your phone to unlock it before snatching it back out of your hands to text Katsuki as soon as the two of you made it to his place. He ushered you inside and told you to sit on the couch, “What did you mean when you said I had to worry more about myself earlier?”

“Ah that’s still on your mind? Well maybe I could just show you,” he stalked towards you and placed his hands onto the back of the couch beside your head. You audibly gulped as your eyes gazed into his own golden ones, “Your friend isn’t exactly who he seems. I know he never told you about his gang affiliation but I’m sure he’s never told you about how he’s also a double agent.”

You blink owlishly opening your mouth to ask what he meant until there was a buzzing sound, “He’s here already.” Keigo strolled to the front door pressing a button, his hand looked around your bicep when he walked back urging you to follow him to his room. A startled yelp leaves your mouth when he tosses you on the bed telling you to stay put, Hawks leaves the room and you keep quiet.

The door opens and you could hear an exchange of words, both of their voices mingling a bit before there’s a shared laugh. Your heart speeds up as they enter the room, Katsuki smiles at you and the whole situation becomes even more confusing.

Your breath came out in short pants, your legs were shaking and you were trying your best to wrestle your hands from the iron grip that pressed them to the comforter. Red eyes stare down at your teary e/c ones, “P-Please. I-I can’t..let me c-cum please!”

Keigo gave a hard lick against your clit while slipping his soaked fingers from your aching pussy, “Oh come on Babybird. You can hold out just a bit longer can’t you?” Katsuki leaned down to press an upside down kiss to your lip, “Yeah Teddybear. If I knew you were such a fucking slut, I would have snatched you up before this birdbrain right here did.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were trying to hide your boner through that video call Sparky. You should be fucking thanking me that you’re here with me, I didn’t have to send the address and shit.”

A squeak leaves your mouth when Keigo leans back down taking your clit back into his mouth while reinserting his fingers back into your quivering cunt. Bakugo’s insults are ignored as Hawks noisily (and sloppily) eats you out like he’s been starved. Your thighs are quaking and the gold eyed male huffs sitting up, “Grab her thighs.”

“W-wait I-“ you’re suddenly sitting upright but Katsuki has you in a full nelson position leaving you completely exposed to Hawks. Your head knocks back against Bakugo’s shoulder and he places kisses along your neck. “Look at you all spread out like this. You love the fucking attention don’t you? Being fucking dominated by two guys that could do literally anything they want to you.”

You were babbling softly as your hips twitch, Bakugo’s words and Hawks’ mouth turned your brain to mush. You slick walls were clinging to Keigo’s fingers as he hooked them upwards making you scream.

Keigo let your clit go with with a loud wet smack before bringing his face towards yours while finger fucking you.

“There we fucking go, you ready to cum? Yeah? You wanna cum after we took turns edging you over and over again, go ahead and cum so we can fuck your brains out.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and white flashes behind your lids as a shaky keen erupts from your throat as you finally cum. Your essence gushes out soaking his fingers and the covers below, “Holy shit Teddybear. To think you were a fucking squirter.” Katsuki kisses your temple and lets your quivering legs down while Hawks licks his fingers.

The both of them give you about a minutes to come down from your high before Bakugo pulls you into his lap, you look down gulping seeing that he’s already naked. His cock pressed against your puffy lower lips before his hot hands gripped your waist, he soon began rutting against you making your juices coat his cock.

“You’re gonna sing me a song right Songbird? Let everyone know, especially the one behind you know who this pussy belongs to?” You look up through your lashes at the older blond smirking down at you, “Shut the fuck up you damn Tweetybird. My Teddybear knows who she really belongs to, you don’t know her like I fucking do.”

You’re snatched up from Bakugo who growls and Keigo holds you up hovering your dripping folds over the head of his leaking cock. “Let’s see who can make her cum the most amount of times then we’ll decide who gets her.”

They were talking and snapping at each other as if you weren’t right here dangling over a cock. Your hands place themselves on Hawks chest, during their banter you were able to somewhat calm down to think again.

“Ah you’re back with us finally Babybird?”

You give a soft nod and swallow hard, you adjust yourself so you’re properly straddling him hissing softly when the tip of his member grazes your clit. Warmth covers your back as Katsuki leans over you to kiss your cheek.

“I’m tired of having your fucking back to me.”

Your world spins and now your back is pressed to Hawks’ chest, you gaze up into red irises as Bakugo claims your mouth in a heated kiss. Hawks rolls his eyes and gropes at your breasts playing with your budding peaks, you feel a prod at your back entrance making you jolt slightly.

“Sorry Kid, I should have warned you but I’m dying to get inside of you. Just relax for me okay,” Katsuki breaks the kiss and pulls away to spit on your pussy and watch his saliva flow down to the puckered ring of muscle.

“K-Katsuki,” you were shocked at the display. You and Keigo both knew you were already wet down there anyway, “You sly bastard. Just know I’m still gonna make her scream my name more than yours.”

Hawks gripped one of your thighs while his other hand took his cock guiding it to press at your hole again. “Relax and be a good girl for me yeah?” You nod and glance at the other occupant in the room who’s stroking his cock at the sight of you spread out like this. You and Hawks sigh out in unison when he finally slips inside of you, “Ohhh fuck.”

Keigo’s voice drops an octave or two while he slowly pushes his member deeper into your gummy walls, “You’re so fucking tight. Fucking hell.”

You were panting and trying not to squirm too much until you could feel his hips flush against yours.

“Fucking finally you damn extra.”

Katsuki was back over you, his cock lightly tapping at your pussy before it slips inside of you. Both men hiss at the way you squeeze their cocks, the three of you lay there panting.

Your hips soon begin to wiggle, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Someone’s a little eager. Ready for us to fuck you, pump you full of our cum Babybird? Ready to show this amateur who you belong to?”

Katsuki suddenly delivers a sharp thrust making you and Hawks yelp, “You talk too fucking much.” Katsuki sets the pace and Hawks soon followed, they’re moving in sync so that when one of them is pulling out the other is pushing in.

The room is filled with a chorus of moans, filthy promises and skin hitting skin. Your hands are scrambling to find purchase on either of the guys as you could already feel your orgasm approaching, “I’m gonna-I’m gonna c-cum!”

Katsuki’s hand flew down and his fingers started rubbing your clit making you arch your back, you were about to cry out his name until Hawks shoved his middle and ring finger into your mouth making you gag. Katsuki clicked his tongue, “That’s fucking cheating.”

“And you stroking her clit right as she’s about to cum isn’t,” Hawks sasses back. The both of them are too involved with their bickering to notice you cumming until you went limp in their hold weakly pushing on them.

Your muffled plea for them to slow them was ignored as Hawks picked up the pace, “We’re gonna have to redo that one Babybird.” Katsuki nodded as his hand left your clit to wrap around your throat, your eyes struggled to stay open as they both wrecked your body overstimulating you until you ended up squirting again.

You could feel the throbs if their cocks as they too began to reach their climaxes, their dirty talking to you (and maybe some to each other) was drowned out by the overload of pleasure.

With a final thrust, they both cussed and groaned as they filled you up with their seed.

The three of you lay there trying to catch your breaths, your eyes widen slightly when you feel Keigo twitch inside of you. “You tired already Blasty? I bet I can last more rounds than you ever could.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue and gave an experimental thrust while his teeth dug into his lower lip, “Shut the fuck up.” Hawks rolled his eyes and shifted, “I wanna fuck her pussy next so move.” Katsuki gets up slowly slipping out of you and he watches his cum drop out of your pussy, “You look so good with my cum dripping out of you Princess.”

Your meek voice doesn’t seem to reach them as Keigo sits up with his member still inside of you. His right hand wraps around your throat while the other grabs your hip, “I’m gonna fuck you while you clean him up. How does that sound, Babybird?”

You nod and the younger blond cups your cheeks as he kisses you, a moan comes from you as the other male in the room grunts. You feel the blunt head of his cock pressing at your pussy until he slips in, Keigo had a slightly larger girth than Bakugo but he filled you up so well.

Leaning down after breaking the kiss with Katsuki, you wrapped your hand around his cock and took his tip into your mouth. His warm hand made homage on the back of your head while he let out a guttural growl, his hips began bucking slightly making you take more of his length.

Hawks cooed at you and told you how much of a good girl you were being for taking them both like his. “You love having your holes fucked and stretched like this huh? You like the idea of both of us filling you up with our cum, who knew such a cutie like you would be a cumslut.”

Bakugo would never admit it to anyone, not even himself but the way Keigo spoke to you combined with your glossy eyes gazing up to him drove him wild. He didn’t expect to cum again so quickly, Keigo massaged you’re throat making sure you swallowed all of the other male’s seed before sitting back on his knees with your body to his absolutely pounding into you.

You cry out when Hawks spanks your thigh, “Look at your best friend. He’s such a pervert for watching you being fucked like this, I’m pretty sure he’d love it even if Dabi were here. Hell maybe even my boss, we’d pass you around and take turns filling you up and fucking you until you can’t remember your own name. But you’d damn well remember ours, you like the sound of that? Your pussy clenched down on me, you gonna cum again huh? Don’t fucking close your eyes and let him see you cum all over this dick.”

You were reduced back to stutters and soft babbles as you weakly reached towards Katsuki who interlocked your fingers together and grabbed your chin. His tongue collected the drool coming from the corner of your mouth before he slips his thumb between your lips and spits in your mouth again.

“Don’t fucking swallow,” Hawks turns your towards him and does the same thing. You couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing before a choked up sob exits your throat as white flashes behind your eyelids. Your legs are practically vibrating now and you slump completely against Katsuki when Hawks lets you go to grab your hips. Feral growls come from the man behind you as he reaches his peak yet again making sure his hips and as close as they can be against yours.

“Y/n you swallowed when I told you not to,” Bakugo grumbles wiping your tears with his thumbs. Hawks pulls out of you and you fall into Katsuki’s arms, your mind was fuzzy and you could only murmur softly as you came down from your high. Keigo rubs your back and kisses your shoulder, “Maybe sharing with this pipsqueak won’t be so bad.”

“Tch, shut the hell up you damn flamingo.”

#citruslovin #katsuki bakugo x reader #hawks x reader #Katsuki x reader x hawks #keigo takami x reader #bakugo x reader #mafia au #quirkless au

244 notes · View notes

generallybarzy · 4 years

Text

smile like sunshine vi

Thursday: ~ 9.2k words

previous chapters: i // ii // iii // iv // v

an: writing this was tough on me. I’ve obviously been through a lot of ups and downs while trying to write this, considering it took like 4 months to finish. Continuously losing inspiration and motivation and hitting writer’s block too many times was tough. The chapters keep getting longer and I feel like there are less and less notes everytime. It hurts to see my favorite fic do so poorly, so I've been hesitating to post this. But it’s finally here, and there are only 2 chapters left. Now, let’s see how few notes this gets. Thank you to my beautiful amazing editor/bestie @folkloreflyers I couldn't have done this without you bb 🥰💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

tagging some beautiful people: @sunflowertimothee @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy @shawnsreputation

summary: after everything that happened last night, Mat and Y/N realize they probably need some time apart to regroup with their thoughts and emotions and prevent themselves from pushing the boundaries of their friendship so far that they’d never return to normal. It’s 2019, eleven years after you first befriended him, and things are definitely different this time around...

If there was ever a time when you wanted to slip away into the memory of what you once had with Mathew: an amazing friendship, not overshadowed or blurred by stupid hormones and growing feelings, it was now.

It was almost tragic to think about how you’d lost all that time and could never go back to the days when you were completely carefree and nothing could bring you down. Those hot, summer days with Mat when watermelon juice and sticky, sugary ice pops dripped down your hands, and your faces were burnt in the sun were long gone. You’d never be like that again. No matter how often you dreamt of it, thought of it, and buried yourself in memories of that summer to block out the worries of adult life, you couldn’t get it back.

The sun was going down on your second to last night at the beach, as you sat by Mat in the sand, giggling as the water lapped at your toes and digging up handfuls of the tiny coquina clams burrowing in the sand- not that you knew what they were called, but did it matter? Your parents sat further back onshore, talking around a fire and watching the younger children, and you and Mat, like always, were left to entertain yourselves. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. No, you loved spending time with him.

You didn’t realize that your time with Mat was coming to an end. You weren’t sure what day of the week it was, where you were, or when you were leaving, but that didn’t matter. Not then.

“Are you having fun with Mat?” Your mom had asked you earlier in the day.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend!”

“Well,” Your mom laughed. “Why don’t you go have some more fun with him. Cherish your time, we won't be here forever.”

You didn't quite understand the weight of her words, but cherish him, you did. The two of you were attached at the hip, to both your parent's amusement, and after only a week of friendship now, your parents could hardly separate you two.

“Ugh, younger siblings are so annoying." You groaned in agreement to Mat's statement and fell back in the sand when you looked back and saw your baby siblings sucking up all your parents’ attention.

"Yeah, 'cause they're smaller and cuter than us."

"No, that's not true!” Mat shook his head, dark hair flopping around in the breeze, hazel eyes wide. “You're still pretty cute."

"Ewwww, Mat!"

"So am I, my nonna told me!" You laughed at him. Only a week into knowing each other and he could already make you laugh better than any of your friends at school. "So that's not it."

"Well, they always have all the attention. I'm so bored and lonely sometimes."

"Nuh-uh, you have me. I'm always here to hang out!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, his small, sand-covered arms, and neither of you noticed both of your parents watching from the campfire. As wise as they were, they knew that if you had been a few years older, this would’ve been too much for them to handle. And little did you and Mat know, at only ten and eleven years old, but you were about to be separated for eleven years.

“Friends forever?”

“Forever! I’ll always be here!”

“Promise?” You stuck out your pinky, and Mat linked it happily with his own, smiling that gleaming smile.

“Promise.”

You had fucked up something amazing.

You woke up early with a pounding headache right as the sun began to beam in through your window, hitting your face in the worst possible way. You’d never so hated the sound of the ocean, but right now, it was just… too much. Too loud. For the first time since you had arrived at the beach, you didn’t wake up smiling and excited to be here, but instead dizzy and confused, questioning what had happened last night, and filled with dread at the thought of having to face the day. And, when you realized what you’d done in your drunken stupor, regret immediately began gnawing away at your mind.

You had fucked up bad.

You buried your face under your pillows to try and drown out the pounding noises in your ears as the image of yourself flooded to your brain, absolutely wasted and stumbling, pushing your body into his, pushing your mouth onto Mat’s and kissing him. It was drunken, messy, and definitely not the way you'd imagined many, many times, your first kiss with him to be. It wasn't magical and beautiful and gentle and sweet, but drunk and sloppy and one-sided. Unreciprocated. You couldn't stop thinking about his reaction. He hadn’t kissed you back, his hands didn’t cup your face gently and pull you flush against his warm body the way you imagined, but instead pushed you away and held you between his arms and looked at you. He hadn’t even smiled or laughed and brushed it off afterward. He must have been disgusted with your actions, he must have wanted to yell at you, ask “What are you doing?” but understood that you were drunk and settled for pushing you away. He'd confront you today, tell you that he couldn't look at you the same way after what happened, tell you that he no longer wanted to be friends. That when you’d get back to New York, you would never speak to each other again.

Fuck.

“(YN)!” The pounding on your door made you cringe and groan. Well, it might not have been pounding, but it certainly sounded like it, as your head throbbed in agitation. “Wake up honey!”

You groaned and rolled over in bed.

She cracked the door open as quietly as possible, showing a little bit of sympathy, which you were thankful for. “Hungover?” Your groan was enough of a response for her. “You’re not gonna get better lying in here, come out.” When you still didn’t answer, she continued. “I’ll be louder next time I have to come in to get you.” And then she left you to drag yourself out of your lethargic state.

Well, fuck, you thought as you cast a glance out the window where the sun was rising over the ocean, might as well get up and face the day, no point in hiding. You needed to get some fresh air, maybe some alone time on the beach before Mat gets up. You needed to talk to someone about what happened, you couldn’t keep this to yourself, but who would you tell? Not your mom, no one in your family actually. Sure, you were close, but you weren’t gonna tell them about your drunken mistake- how you kissed your best friend. Best friend. Your best friend- all the way back in New York City, who always helped get you out there, was the reason you ever reconnected with Mat in the first place, and would definitely be your maid of honor in the future- would definitely want to know about your kiss with Mat Barzal.

“Amy…”

You reached over to the bedside table for your phone and the first thing you noticed, after pressing the power button, was an unread text from none other than Mat Barzal, sent at 1:38 am, probably when you got home last night:

Maty: Hope you don’t feel too bad when you wake up.

It was strange, it was unlike him to leave such a message. Yeah, he always checked in and texted you saying he hopes you’re feeling good, but there was no “sleep tight” or anything funny or cute and not even a smiley emoji like usual. Well, in his defense, you had just kissed him. Of course, he’d feel weird around you.

You sent a quick text to Amy, who you hadn’t spoken to since the beginning of the trip now, and who must have been dying to know anything that happened between you and Mat. She would probably be happy you kissed him, bless her heart, she was in love with your friendship with Mat and the story of how you came to meet, but you needed someone to listen seriously to your problem and help you.

It’d be at least another hour until Mat gets up, you guessed, so, with much hesitation, you dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom where you steadied yourself on the sink as your head spun, washed your face, and caught a glance of yourself in the mirror, running a hand through your hair to smooth it down before opening your door to face the day.

The first thing you noticed, even in your state, was the smell of coffee and breakfast from the kitchen. Usually, you loved that scent, but today it made you want to puke, and as you sat down at the island in the kitchen, you dropped your head into your arms and groaned.

“Rough night?”

“Pretty bad.”

The sound of a water bottle being set down in front of you was much louder than it should’ve been. “Drink, it’ll make you feel better.” You took a sip of water and laid down on your arms again, going back to suffering in silence and wracking your head over trying to figure out any possible way out of this sticky situation. “What else is wrong?” You looked up to where your mom was making knowing eyes in your direction. You were close to your mom, sure, you thought you had a pretty good relationship with her, but you were positive you didn’t want to tell her what you had done last night. At least, not now. You knew the news would eventually get to your dad, and you couldn’t imagine what would happen if he found out.

Hopefully staying pretty ambiguous would save you. “I think Mat’s mad at me.”

“I doubt it. The boy adores you.” You wanted to tell her no, that’s gross, you’re only friends, but something made you stop. Mat did adore you. He was always there for you, he was the greatest friend ever, and how do you repay him? By kissing him and screwing up both of your feelings? “What makes you think he’s mad?”

“I think I did something stupid last night. Said something dumb when I was drunk. And he sent me a text before bed last night that didn't sound like how he usually does.”

“Well, you won’t know until you talk to him. It won’t be any good to ignore him for the rest of the trip” Fuck, why did her advice have to be good words of wisdom?

A door rattled open from down the hall and there was Mat, rubbing his face, his hair falling into his eyes, as he crossed the hallway into the bathroom. He cast a glance to the kitchen, locking eyes with you for half a second before he was gone.

You knew he’d be getting up now, so, grabbing your water bottle and phone, you made your way to the back door to avoid any alone time with him. “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” And you headed out the back door and down onto the beach.

Amy had texted you back by now, telling you to call her right away, and you took the moment to reflect, walking down to the water’s edge and just looking out. The early morning heat was cooling down, the sun had barely risen and already dark clouds were rolling in from the horizon, the rain was coming, maybe even a storm in the next hour or so. Sure, you may have made your friendship awkward, but for now, you’re still friends. At least until he comes out to confront you. So until then, you were gonna be proud. You had kissed him. His lips were just as soft and nice as you expected them to be, and his face pressed against yours was something you could get used to. Unfortunately, that scenario was unlikely.

Your heart raced when you started connecting the video call, and you couldn’t help a smile from spreading over your face for the first time all morning. Yesterday, besides the mistake you’d made, was easily one of the best days of your life. Mat took you out to the pier because he remembered you loved it when you were younger, he remembered he promised to teach you to skate, he even remembered your favorite ice cream flavor. And, despite how much you regretted kissing him, you had kissed him. You had kissed Mat. God, Amy is gonna be fucking ecstatic for you.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Ames, I’m sorry for not calling sooner-”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, always a welcome sound, and you knew she wasn’t upset. “You’re on vacation with Mat fucking Barzal. But now that I have you for a few minutes, girl, spill. All. The. Details. Now.”

“Yeah,” You laughed at her words. All the details? “He took me out to the pier yesterday for my birthday. We roller-skated together and held hands.”

“Oh my god, seriously? That’s so fucking cute!” You winced at the way she shrieked in joy for you, your head still pounding as you tried to overcome the hangover. Amy immediately noticed your change and lowered her voice. “Girl, are you hungover?”

“You tell me. I’m twenty-one now, aren’t I?” Before she could start talking again, you continued, figuring it would be easier to just get all your words out there and over with. Rip off the bandaid. “Actually, I did something really bad last night. When I was drunk.”

“Oh shit. Spill!”

“I…” You couldn’t help the small smile on your face. As much as you hated the realistic part of this, you were still overjoyed it had happened. You shook your head and pushed on. “I kissed Mat.”

It was almost comical how your friend’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. It almost made you laugh, it had a little smile pulling at your face. Holy shit, it was still sinking in that you’d kissed Mat. “Oh… my god. You kissed Mat. You kissed Mat Barzal. How was it?”

“Well, messy. I was drunk, he didn’t kiss back at all. But focus on the realistic part, Ames. I made it awkward.”

“Oooh…”

“How are we gonna be friends after this? He’s gonna hate me, he’s gonna wanna leave, he’s never gonna want to talk to me again. He must think I’m so dumb-”

“Babe, listen, he doesn’t think any of that. He’s head over heels for you. If not in love, then in platonic love at least.”

“Now you’re sounding like my mom.”

“I hate to say it, but I actually agree with her then.” You sighed. As much as you wanted to listen to them, maybe the realistic side of your brain was just too powerful. “Mat has done stupid things around you when he was drunk. Remember the karaoke night? He was so fucking embarrassed in the morning.”

“Yeah, but he never kissed me.” He never kissed you, not once. Not even when you desperately wanted him to, when he was drunk or Christmas Eve, or New Years’, or his birthday, not even when you practically created chances to get close to him, not even when you kissed him. No matter how much you wanted it, life isn’t a love song. “Look, things don’t just work out like in romance novels. Some things don’t get to last beyond one summer. Sometimes this shit just doesn’t happen. Sometimes it’s just a feeling.”

“It’s only a feeling ‘til you make it more.”

“Shut uuuup. He hasn’t spoken to me since then. He’s obviously upset.”

“Have you tried to talk with him?”

“I mean…”

“So you haven’t. C’mon, you gotta at least ask him about it.”

“Okay, but if I ask him how he feels he might say he doesn’t want to be friends. If I avoid him completely, he can’t break off the friendship, right?” Before she could respond, you rambled on, maybe to her, maybe just to yourself. Sometimes it’s good to just talk yourself out of something. “We’ve become such good friends in the last year and I really don’t want to lose him because of something stupid that I did while drunk. I feel like I messed everything up.”

“Babe, babe. You didn’t mess anything up.” Ames smiled at you over the phone as thunder rumbled in the distance. “This isn’t gonna drive him away, okay? He’s in too deep already. Trust me.”

“Alright, we’ll see.”

And you would see. But now, you had to go to the porch, already feeling raindrops drip from the looming clouds above. The storm was rolling in. And it was coming fast.

------------

Even before Mat’s eyes opened that morning, his mind was racing.

He rolled onto his side in bed, eyeing the pillow he had been hugging against him all night. It was as if he was a child who needed a teddy bear to fall asleep, and he hated how vulnerable you made him feel. But rather, you were his teddy bear and after that night in the motel, he couldn’t sleep without some sort of faux version of you that would never compare. Not to your warmth, your softness, your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sighs of breath against his neck. You had messed him up bad. You had kissed him, and it’s unnecessary to think it needs explaining why he was so confused. “I had a dream about you last night. We were really goin’ at it. You were really good, like, really good.” What had you meant by it? Was it just a dumb mistake? Or is what they say true: “Drunk words are sober thoughts”? The moment your lips touched his last night, he was flooded with serotonin. It was… well, maybe not perfect, but more than he could ever hope for. More than he thought he would ever get.

He wanted it so bad, he wanted it for months now, but he wanted it sober. He wanted you to know what you were doing. He wanted you to mean it. He didn’t want it like last night.

He pushed himself up, hearing the muffled conversation from the kitchen. He knew it was you and your mom, and, though he couldn’t hear any clear words, he couldn’t help but realize that the conversation had to be about him, and for a moment he was strangely self-conscious. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, but he was embarrassed, even ashamed he had let anything happen last night.

He shouldn’t have let you get so drunk.

The moment he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the conversation came to an abrupt stop. He glanced up into the kitchen, where he immediately caught your gaze, noting how much of a wreck you were this morning. He couldn’t help the way he rushed into the bathroom before you could say anything.

He heard you say something about “fresh air” and then the back door opened and closed, he finished up his morning routine and rushed back into his room. He’d barely even sat back down in bed when there was a pounding on his bedroom door that was a lot less than friendly.

“Mathew!”

Your dad was gonna fucking kill him.

It was safe to say he’d never been more afraid as he jumped to his feet and stepped over to the door, debating on pulling out his phone to send a final “Goodbye, I love you” texts to you, his friends, and family. But there didn’t seem to be any time for that, as the pounding on his door increased. Sucking up a deep breath, he opened it and was greeted by the face of your father with crossed arms and a scowl. He could only choke out a terrified “Yes, sir?”, sounding like a pathetic teen boy caught in a girl’s room.

“(Y/N)”s upset.”

"I-"

"I don't know why that is, but something tells me you have something to do with it." Mat went silent, trying to figure out what he could say. You were upset? Were you upset with yourself, or with him? He had stopped your kiss, brought you home, got you water, and tucked you into your bed, what had he done wrong? “She thinks you’re angry at her.”

“Why would I be-?”

“Mathew.” The boy closed his mouth when your father put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him over towards the bed. “Sit.” Mat nodded quickly and sat on the edge of the bed, flattening his hands on his thighs awkwardly and waiting for the lecture to start. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening between the two of you, but I can see how much you mean to her. I know I shouldn’t be too hard on you, but I just need to make sure you’re going to treat her right.” Mat couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face momentarily. He was in the middle of opening his mouth to say thank you when your father rambled on, eyes narrowed, examining the boy in front of him. “(Y/N) has been hurt a lot in the past, and I’ve tried to help. It’s not my place to mess with her love life anymore. She’s not a baby. But the least I can do is make this right. I still remember what you said on our first day here. You like my daughter?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. A lot.”

“Good. So then you didn’t mean to hurt her?”

Mat’s head shook frantically, wracking his brain for what he might’ve done. “Absolutely not. I don’t know why she is, I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

“I’ve seen her hurt so many times, and I’m gonna trust that you’ll treat her right. Now, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and I’m not going to ask. That’s between you two. But she thinks you’re angry, you’re obviously not, and you need to fix it.”

“I know, I promise I will. I’ll make her so happy, I swear to God, I promise you.”

The older man continued to look at his daughter’s friend for a few long, tense seconds, but Mat’s eyes gave everything away with no hesitation. His feelings were genuine, he truly, truly cared. He wasn’t lying. Slowly, he nodded, and Mat’s face lifted in a cautious smile. Was this… approval? Was this your father’s blessing? Your father slapped his hand on Mat’s back. “There’s something else I want to show you. C’mon, Mat.”

-----------

You sat alone on the porch with your little pile of shells, watching the rain pour down beyond the porch, watching the waves continue through the storm, always pushing and pulling despite the circumstances. And as you threaded shell after shell onto your little braided bracelet, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

It was the summer of 2015, you were sitting on the passenger side of his dad’s car, the wind in your hair and OMI's 'Cheerleader' playing on the radio. You had just turned 17 and were trying to live your best life on the coast with your new friends, forgetting about any of your responsibilities and just chilling for this trip. You might have been getting involved in the wrong crowd, but you couldn’t care less. You had your friends, you had your newfound teenage freedom, and, most importantly, you had him.

When you first met him, at the beginning of the summer, he was new to your group of friends. But he immediately seemed to take a liking to you.

“You’re different.” He would whisper in your ear as you sat around the campfire with your friends before breaking away from the group to go make out by the cliffs. “There’s just something about you.” He would say as his hands glided over your swimsuit under the water, hidden from your other friends eyes. He knew just the right words to say to have you sinking into him, giving in, And you were stupid to follow him.

In the back of your head, this party was a stupid idea, but it was summer, you were young, he was hot, you had to live your life. What was the worst that could happen?

Kyle was behind the wheel of his dad’s car- maybe he had taken it without his permission, maybe not, who knows?- his beachy blonde waves blowing in the breeze and his blue eyes sparkling behind dark sunglasses. His hand was on your thigh, he was always touching you in some way, but what you didn’t know was that you weren’t his only girl for the summer. He wasn’t trying to hide it, all the signs were there, but you were too carefree to notice.

The car came to a stop and you both jumped out, locking arms around each other before running over to the steamy, crowded party atmosphere.

Really, what was the worst that could happen?

You were sitting there lamenting over your past, nursing a cup of coffee and staring out into the thunder and rain, fidgeting with the object closed in your fist when the door opened down the porch. And when you looked up, of course, you were met by the man himself, wearing a lightweight gray hoodie, the hood pulled up over his dark waves of hair. “Hey Y/N.”

“Mat.”

There was a moment of silence, perhaps for your damaged friendship or perhaps for the growing feelings that neither of you believed were reciprocated, as you both stayed in place, not knowing what to do or say to the right things to make it better. You let the silence, the tension settle uncomfortably between the two of you as the rain pounded as heavily as your hearts. Mat stayed in place where he was standing at the doorway, not wanting to come any closer. Whether it was because he was upset and grossed out or something else, you couldn’t tell, but you needed the silence to end. “Mat, I’m so sorry about last night. I didn’t mean- I was just, I was drunk and I couldn’t think straight-”

“Hey, hey. No big deal.”

“No, it was so uncalled for, I-”

“Hey, (Y/N), I’ve had people kiss me while drunk before.” He gave you a reassuring smile, but something was missing. Something genuine. That sparkle was missing from his eye and the sunshine was missing from his smile.. Something had definitely changed. Something definitely wouldn’t go back to normal. “Seriously. It’s nothing.” He swore. Cross his heart. Something was definitely wrong, but you weren’t going to bring it up. If he was alright with moving past this, so were you. “You don’t have to feel bad at all.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Friends?” He stuck out his pinky for you.

You smiled at the gesture that threw you back to your childhood and accepted it happily, despite the twinge of guilt and fear in your chest. “Yeah, friends.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Mat smiled, taking a seat next to you, pretending everything was normal. “I like being friends with you.” He was shouting at himself in his head, this is so fake, so forced. But he would rather force the comfort than not have you in his life at all. And then the silence was back.

The silence was painful, filled with unspoken words- words you could never say aloud- and both of you knew. You weren’t sure if the rain was picking up or it had just become so overwhelming between the two of you that you were hyper fixating on the patter patter patter of raindrops against the porch roof. Friends. Friends. If this is what it's like to be Mat's friend, you could only wonder what it would be like to have him as your own, to be his, to hug him and kiss him and protect him and have him do the same to you.

“I, uhhh.” You glanced over to see Mat’s eyes already dead set on you, and you wondered if he had been staring the whole time. You were almost shy as you opened your fist to him. “I finished it.”

“Woah.”

"Yeah, you like it?"

“I love it.” Mat took the bracelet with delicate fingers, as if afraid he was going to break it, and slid it onto his wrist gently. A perfect fit. "It's amazing. You're really talented. Seriously. " His eyes were unbelievably soft as he gazed at the pretty shells you had worked so hard to braid together for him. All for him, from you. “I’ll never take it off.”

"Oh, never?"

"I'm dead serious."

Your heart throbbed in your chest. The idea of him wearing this bracelet you had worked so hard on, even when plagued by the thought that maybe he wouldn't want to be friends at all anymore, just had you so overwhelmed. The idea of him wearing something you made for him, something so personal, as if it was there to constantly remind him of this summer, of you. Like it was a cute inside joke no one else would ever understand, made your heart ache. It was as if you were claiming him, as if he was claiming you as one of his best friends, one of the few people that got a glimpse into his private life. You were special.

“I’m serious.” He repeated. “Honest. I love it.”

“Thank you, Mat.”

His arm fell heavily but gently across your shoulders as he tucked you closer into his body, and something about the weight of it against you was comforting, a reminder that he was still there no matter what and he would always be there no matter what. Mat was resilient, and no matter how much you wanted to push him away, he was here. He was your friend. Forever, and through anything.

"Hey," Mat broke the silence. "I have something for you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Consider it a late birthday gift."

"Mat, you've already gotten me so much-"

"Ah, ah. Your dad actually found these. I'm just presenting them." Before you had a chance to ask or even wonder what it could be, Mat was pulling some flimsy rectangles from his hoodie pocket.

"Are these...?"

"From that summer." Mat finished with a smile, letting you take them from his hands.

"No way."

There in your hands were photographs your parents took of you and Mat, ten and eleven years old. The two of you were standing close, Mat’s arm around your shoulders and squeezing you into his hug, both of your faces lit up with wide smiles. You were so close that summer and you weren’t sure how your parents dealt with the two of you. That picture captured a moment of childish joy and innocence- grinning brightly in mid laughter as you built your final sandcastle of the summer together. LIttle did you know, back then, but the next morning, you’d be leaving, leaving your summer-long friendship behind.

“Look at us.” Mat’s voice was tender, gentle as he leaned in closer and you fingered through the pictures. “I can’t believe we were so small.”

“I can’t believe you still smile the same, Maty.”

He laughed at the nickname that threw him back to that first summer. He quieted down for a few moments as you flipped through the rest of the pictures, his fingers drumming softly on your arm. “I still can’t believe we found each other.”

“I know.”

You could hear your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage as Mat leaned in closer to look at the pictures with you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you stopped suddenly as one picture caught your attention- the family picture taken that year, with both your family and the Barzals posing together as friends. But what really stuck out to you was the way Mat’s face was pressed up against your cheek, in the most innocent, childish kiss you’ve ever seen.

“Wow, look at that.” Mat chuckled a bit through his words, his eyes soft behind you. He didn’t remember kissing you at eleven years old, but seeing that picture brought sparks to his veins and had memories flooding back to his mind. It was you. You hadn’t just been his first crush, but his first kiss as well. “We’ve come pretty far, eh?” Your silence was almost painful to him, and he couldn’t help the way his face fell. Wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say, oh god oh god oh god.

“Yeah, we have.”

He smiled again as your voice filled his ears.

“Do you remember that place, Mat?” His eyes followed your finger as you traced the rocky cliffs in the background of the photo. Oh, did he remember. The little hidden beach, surrounded on three sides by rocky cliffs and sandy dunes and the little ocean inlet shallow and warm and perfect for swimming in, was a beautiful place that immediately brought back memories. You had first found that place on a family walk, and Mat had dared you to jump off the cliffs into the water with him. Of course you didn’t end up jumping, as neither of your parents let you out of their sight.

“It’s our little hideaway.”

“Yeah.” You sat in silence for a moment, in awe that you had such a private little place with him, and noticed how the rain was slowing down. “When it stops raining, do you want to walk there tonight?”

“Absolutely. As much as I love your family, I’ve been dying to spend some time with my girl again.”

My girl. My girl. My girl. Too much?

But the smile on your face reassured him. “I wanna spend more time with you too, Mat.” You threw your arm around his shoulders in an act you thought was sweet, but regretted it and drew back your arm as soon as he let out a sharp hiss. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing.”

“You’re sunburnt, aren’t you?”

“No, no, it’s not bad.”

“Mat, I told you you’d get burnt!” He was quiet, red faced, and you weren’t sure if all the red was from the burn or embarrassment. “Let me see.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mathew!”

“I promise.” But you stood up, always just as stubborn as him, photographs in hand, and held your hand out to him. He looked up at you, amused. Oh what you did to him.

“Come on. We’ll fix you up, dummy.”

Mat laughed and shook his head before giving in, his palm sliding into yours and following you obediently back into the house.

-------------

The rainclouds had finally cleared, though it was too late in the day to get any sunlight in, and instead the vast blanket of stars were already beginning to twinkle overhead when you and Mathew headed out after the family dinner.

“Mat, look at all the stars tonight!”

“You still love them as much as always, yeah?”

“Of course!”

Mat watched you, adoration evident in his eyes, as you gazed up at the sky in awe. He had to agree. There weren’t stars like this in the city, not even in his hometown. This little oceanfront town didn’t produce enough light to block out the beautiful heavens above. But, his eyes were still fixated on you, on the wonder in your eyes and the way you were so soft and amazing in everything you do. The moon could be falling, for all he cared, there could be a literal alien spaceship in front of them, but all he could see was you. “Beautiful.”

“They look best after it storms, I think.”

“Yeah?” Mat could do nothing but nod along, too lost in his own thoughts to find words to say. He hoped he didn’t seem too boring, but walking there, hand in hand with you and feet in the warm sand, his mind couldn’t help but wander. What if you loved me, (Y/N)?

“I think I wanna be a constellation when I die.”

“That’s-” Mat laughed a bit louder than he meant to at your sudden confession, and stumbled to pull himself back together. “That’s a little grim to talk about, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just think stars are so pretty, and I’d just love to be twinkling up there, looking down on people. Plus, I’m more of a night person anyway.” You smiled, and Mat’s heart fluttered in his chest. “What about you? If you were reincarnated as something? Maybe… ice? So you could live and die with hockey like you do right now?”

Mat didn’t even need to think for a second, he knew his answer immediately. Stars, stars, I’d lie in the stars with you, spend all eternity by your side. I’d drop hockey, all the wins and the trophies and the attention. I’d drop it all for you. “Yeah, that’d be pretty cool.”

You walked, hand in hand, down the length of the beach, until you could no longer look back and see your house. Until houses no longer speckled the shore, and instead it was just you, Mat, the ocean and the stars, in your own little world. The shore rose beside you, and after walking around a little bend, you were suddenly hidden away in a little sandy inlet, rocky cliffs surrounding you on three sides, and the ocean, gentle and lapping on the other.

“Here it is.”

“Looks the same as when we were young.” Your hand slipped out of his, just for a moment, to pull out your phone. “Smile, Mat.” His face lit up, not in one of the dazzling smiles you remember and loved so much, but a softer, gentler little smirk.

“Before and after pic, huh?”

“Yeah.”

For a few moments, his eyes gleamed in mischief, and you should’ve known what was coming.

“You know what? You still never jumped off the dock at the fishing spot with me. But I can think of something that would be even more fun.” You were about to ask what, but the smirk on his face as he glanced towards the cliffs and raised a hand to motion towards it should’ve told you that nothing innocent was coming. “Remember that dare?”

“Oh my god.” You laughed at the excited look on his face.

“Let’s jump off that rock.”

“Are you the bad influence my parents always warned me about? Who asks if I’ll jump off a bridge with them?”

He laughed, loud and boisterous and bouncing around the sandy dunes and cliffs that hid you away from the rest of the world. “Maybe I am.” And then he stretched his arms above his head and tossed his shirt to the sand, the muscles of his now bare chest and shoulders shining in the pale moonlight, watching with a giddy smile as you looked him over with an incredulous laugh. He took a few strides back towards the rocks, giving you an enticing smirk and luring you out to him like a siren with his song. “So? You coming in or what?” You should’ve turned back right there; you should’ve recognized the signs and listened to your head rather than your heart, your hormones, and turned back to shore and ran, left him here alone instead of stepping over this boundary- scratch that, fucking barrelling through this boundary like it was a race to finish- but you didn’t. You stayed. Worse yet, you stepped towards him, foolishly, blinded by that goddamn stupid smile.

No, no, you really shouldn’t. But you were so fucked for him, for that smile, for that cocky little “gotcha” laugh that he always did when you followed him so blindly, without any hesitation. You were so in love. Fuck it.

“Unfortunately, Maty, I’d follow you anywhere.”

There was a rocky path leading from the sand up the side of the cliff, a natural staircase, or so it had seemed when you were younger and more imaginative. Mat grabbed your hand to help you up, his palm big and heavy against your own, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you used to make it up here as children.

At the top, your eyes met the most beautiful sight, and, for once, it wasn’t just the man standing next to you. The moon had risen over the ocean, casting its cool glow across miles and miles of water. The water was dark and blue and lapping gently at the pool below you, and the air was still warm, though the rocks beneath your feet were finally cooling off. You both watched in silence for a few moments, taking in all the beauty of the scene before you and forgetting all about his hand in yours.

“It’s certainly a lot smaller than I remember.” It was true, the rock definitely wasn’t as high as you pictured it to be. It was a high cliff, sure, but standing atop it was much less intimidating than facing your feelings for Mat.

“Yeah, well, you were a lot smaller eleven years ago too.”

He snickered, his hand squeezing yours, perhaps subconsciously, or maybe in realization, he’d still been holding it. But he still didn’t let go, and neither did you. His face was warm, not that you’d ever notice, not in the dark. “Well, you’re about the same size.”

“Mat! Not true!”

“Yeah, it is.” He pulled you against his side like he always did in a little half-hug and laughed that beautiful laugh of his. After a few more moments of smiling silence, Mat hummed in thought. “Ya know what? I know what would make this jump a lot more fun.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Skinny dipping.”

Your heart almost stopped when the words passed his lips. You hesitated to respond, laughing a little bit. “No, you’re not serious.”

“Yeah, I mean, no one can see us out here. There are no houses nearby. Only us.” It was tempting, so, so tempting, and Mat could tell you were right on the edge of saying yes. You were. “Listen, I’ll stay far away from you the whole time and I won’t even look at you, I promise. But we’re leaving soon, we'll probably never get another chance at this exact spot, and we’re twenty-one, twenty-two, let’s do something reckless. Let’s be stupid together. Yeah?”

You bit your lip, and Mat would never admit to you how much you turned him on at that moment alone, but he stored that image away for later tonight. You were considering it, but both you and Mat already knew you had made up your mind long ago.

“Sure.”

“Yeah?”

You laughed, the excitement of doing something so scandalous and dangerous and intimate with him finally settling in. Mat smiled back at you, you both laughed and looked at each other with complete reckless abandon. There was nothing else to lose after this. Easily every shred of friendship would be gone. You couldn’t be just friends anymore. “Let’s be reckless.”

“Let’s go, baby!”

“You first, though.” You stepped away from him and motioned towards his shorts, your heart pounding and cheeks hot. The smile on his face should’ve warned you that he wasn’t playing around here, but for some reason, you were still shocked at what he did next.

“Alright, fine.” You could feel a slickness between your thighs as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his shorts and smirked as he shimmied them down, making a great show of swaying his hips and biting his lip, trying and succeeding to be as sexy as possible. And though you jokingly laughed and pleaded for him to stop, the dull ache in your core only worsened when you caught just a glimpse of what lay beneath the fabric, at the end of that V shape in his hips. Your eyes shot up to the sky, your face red hot and shy when he lifted his swim trunks as proof and flung them towards your feet.

“Ew, Mat!”

“Come on, your turn!” Your heart pounded and you couldn’t help the wave of self-consciousness. But Mat’s smile was addictive, and he made you so comfortable, comfortable enough to have you pulling Mat's hoodie over your head, letting it fall by your ankles and leaving you in your bikini.

“Turn around, Mat.”

He raised his hands in surrender and smiled as he turned, and you couldn’t help but glance- for just one second- down at his toned thighs and ass. Wow…. “I know you’re staring, y/n/n.”

“Wha- no!”

“I don’t mind, babe. Look wherever you want. I'm all yours.” And his body shook with laughter as you undid the string of your top and slipped out of your bottoms and tossed the fabric towards his feet. You could see him do a double-take at the sight, as if he didn't believe you were serious about skinny dipping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh, to busy marveling at his physique, the dark swoop of hair he kept running his hand through- a nervous habit you’d recognized as far back as 2008- the muscles of his back and shoulders, the dip at the small of his back, his toned ass, his thighs... He wasn’t even looking at you, but there was something about how you were so bare, so vulnerable, so close to him. Just the idea of his body and yours being so close and so primal, so exposed, and about to take this leap… something was stirring up a fire, a fire you'd put out later. Your fingers slipped down between your thighs momentarily, marveling at how hot Mat made you before they wiped hastily on your thigh and you stored those memories away for later that night. Your other hand curled into Mat’s again, and his fingers squeezed around yours at the contact, as if it was the most natural thing to do. The only thing against his body, besides your own skin, was the bracelet you had put all your love and energy into, all for him, and now you were standing on the edge, taking a final breath. About to jump. About to fall with him as hard as you’d already fallen for him.

“You ready, Maty?”

“I think I should be asking you, pretty girl.”

You hesitated, still a little nervous, trying to build up that excitement. “Countdown?”

“Course. After three. Say it with me?”

“Okay." Your thumb smoothed over his hand, tightening your grip. "Three.”

“Two.” He squeezed back.

“One.”

Mat gave a final, devilish smirk as he whispered “Jump.” and, with one of his iconic howls, your feet were off the ground.

You felt so free, so vulnerable, so exposed, falling naked through the cool air, hands clammy and grasped against each other, shrieking in excitement and adventure. You had bared yourself to Mat, you had stripped yourself of any fears and leaped with him, as if each article of clothing that hit the ground was another shedded insecurity, another forgotten reason for hesitation. You’d pushed the boundaries until they couldn’t go any further, then said “fuck it” and tore the boundary away. There was a brief moment of fear as you hit the cold water, but the moment you resurfaced with a gasp to see Mat’s smiling face, his hair dark and saturated, dripping into his eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh.

You'd done it.

"Wow!"

“Right?”

Your combined laughter filled the little inlet with squeals of glee as you splashed around with Mat. It wasn’t too deep, but deep enough that your feet couldn’t touch the bottom, and you instinctively gravitated towards Mat. You moved closer toward him, maybe subconsciously, as if your body craved his more than your mind would ever be able to comprehend. As if you were pulled to him by some force you couldn't control, the same way you'd found each other after 10 years apart, how you'd found yourselves here again, so close, so opened up and bare before each other, even after you'd both thought you'd wrecked any chances. How you had found the sunshine in Mat's smile again, even after the rain.

"Was it worth it?"

"Absolutely!"

The water was cold, goosebumps were popping up along your arms and legs, and across Mat’s as well. And as you drew closer to him and reached out for his wrist, dragging your hand from the bracelt he wore so proudly, up the length of his arm, his hands reached for yours as well, looking for a lifeline as his smooth voice reached your ears.

“You cold?”

You nodded and ran your hands across the tight muscles of his biceps, warm despite the chilly air, and flattening them against his chest before bringing them up, up, up behind his neck to tangle in his dark, wet hair. Your breath hitched in your throat when Mat's hands dipped under the water to your waist, leaving a bit of space between your bodies and honoring his promise from earlier to stay away, but asking permission with his eyes. His big hands squeezing your waist was making your mind spin, and you could barely stutter out a quiet: “You?”

“Nah. Feels fine for me.” He grinned, "But I can help you." He pulled you ever so slightly closer, slowly, slowly, until you were flush with each other, your bodies slick and wet and warm in the cool water, every crevice and curve fitting against each other like puzzle pieces. Mat’s blown eyes traced over your face, from your eyes, down to your lips, and leaned down, pressing his face against your shoulder and pulling you as close as possible, bringing a knee up to prop you against him. He opened his hot mouth along your skin, leaving wet kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. Your chest was pressed flush against his, your nipples poking out hard against his skin, your hands in his wet hair, his big hands engulfing your waist with his touch, his knee inserted between your thighs to keep you against him, floating, weightless, against him. “Let me help?”

And God, how you wanted him to help.

It seemed as if every part of you was touching. Your skin was hot and wet and the sound of the gentle lapping of water against your bodies and on the shore made everything feel like a dream. Even more euphoric, though, was the way Mat's eyes- dark and needy- found yours, in the way you'd always seen in your dreams. The way you'd only seen in your dreams. Until now.

And then, finally, your mouths.

Your mouths collided hot and needy, open and wet and the furthest thing from chaste, wanting to swallow each other up, to ease the aches you had tried to bury so deep in your bodies. You wanted to get so lost in him that you’d never come back, so lost in him that for the rest of time it’d only be you and Mat and the ocean. Weightless, naked, and hot. And he wanted to bury himself in you, hide away from the rest of the world for just this night. He’d been craving it all week. And what he’d been craving was more than sex, it was the affection, the intimacy, the closeness of being with you, entangled with you, so gentle but so needy, giving in completely and finally- finally- letting your hearts take control. His tongue was slippery and warm against yours, and it felt, for a moment, as if this was meant to be.

“I would treat you so much better than he did.” Mat’s mouth was hot and wild and messy against yours, breathing against you and moaning out his confession. “I would be so much better. I’d fucking cherish you.”

“Mathew.”

“Fuck, I’d take such good care of you.”

“Mat, I want you.”

“Fuck,” He groaned against you, rocking his body against yours gently. Your hands burnt his skin wherever you touched, your nails dragging along smooth, wet skin and leaving angry red lines in their wake, dragging down his sides, over his hard abs, right to that one forbidden area. “I want you so bad, baby.”

There were no more words, only hot, aching silence as Mat held you against him. You were slick between your thighs, even under the water you could feel that familiar warmth, the tingling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his face against yours, his nose pressed against your cheek as his lips ravaged yours, his tongue delving into the crevices of your mouth to taste you, to feel every part of you. His hands slid to your ass and pulled you as close as possible, molding your skin against his and gluing you to him with the passion. You could feel his desire, hard and swelling and needy between your bodies, and you wanted him. You wanted him more than anything.

“Stop, stop, stop.”

Mat, always concerned with you before anything else, pulled away, his eyes wide and worried, his hands dropping you back into the water, where you pushed yourself back as fast as you could, trying to catch your breath. “What?”

“We can’t.”

He said nothing else, but nodded and stepped away from you, averting his eyes, his face hot and his head spinning. Fuck, he was still aching. But you took your chance to wade to shore and scramble up the rocks to collect your clothes and hide yourself again. You were shaking, trying to shake away the shame flooding through your body at what you just did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did you have to do that? Why did you do something that stupid? If last night didn’t ruin your friendship, tonight certainly did.

Mat was standing in the sand at the bottom of the cliff, turned away from you, trying to even out his breathing, and you brought his swim trunks down as a courtesy, the least you could do. “Thanks.” His voice was choked up, strained, and he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck before pulling them back on.

The walk home was silent, but not silent in the way that it had been earlier, comfortable and warm. There was no hand-holding, no smiles, no funny small talk. Only pain and heartbreak. Both your minds were struggling to process the last hour. Why had you decided to leave the house tonight? Why did you let yourself take it that far? How could you ruin something so amazing? How many chances would you give each other before giving up and never spoke again?

You almost ran up the porch into the house and to your bedroom, as Mat followed silently behind. Your bedroom door was already locked, you were already hidden beneath the covers, tears in your eyes and hands between your thighs with the thought of Mat paguing your mind, when Mat made it to his, glanced across the hallway at your door, and finally hid himself away.

He wished he didn’t feel this way, he wanted nothing more than to love you as a friend, but the same as every other night, Mat fell asleep with you floating through his mind. Only this time, it was more than your image. It was the smell of you, your burning touch, your sweet taste as your tongue danced against his own, imprinted on his brain, daring him to even try to think of another woman ever again. He bit his tongue as he jerked his desire desperately into his hand, holding back his moans and his cries as he spared one last thought to you before spilling out and letting the tears stream down his hot cheeks.

And he fell asleep, sticky and shameful and, like always, thinking of you.

#mat barzal #smile like sunshine #mat barzal x reader #reader insert #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal fanfiction #fic #op

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dragonseattofu · 3 years

Text

Spaces Between My Fingers (NEO TWEWY fanfiction)

Summary: Neshiki NEO reunion. NEO TWEWY spoilers. Everyday for two years after Neku’s disappearance, Shiki sits behind Hachiko talking to what looks like herself, her hand securely in another that she can feel but can’t see. Warnings for depression and panic attacks. Check source content for Ao3 link.

Preview:

“Great work on the presentation Misaki-san!”

“Excellent job as always Misaki-san! Have a wonderful evening!”

“See you tomorrow!”

Shiki smiled and nodded at the outpouring of compliments from her staff as they filed out of the conference room. It was her last meeting of the day, and she was exhausted. Never in a million years could she have imagined being the youngest CEO of any clothing company, much less her own brand at the age of eighteen. But, being young didn’t make the responsibilities of a trending brand owner any less tiring. On the bright side, the remainder of the evening was all hers to spend at her own pace.

With that in mind, Shiki gathered her laptop and papers under her arm, turned off the lights and closed the door behind her. She retrieved her messenger bag from the coat rack in her office, pulled the keys from the front pocket, and said a habitual goodnight into the empty space before locking the office for the night.

The soft tapping of rubber on carpet filled the empty hallway on her way to the elevator, the sounds of mindess instrumental music soothed her tired nerves on her voyage down from the eight floor. Slow clicking of gears moving, and the opening the heavy metal doors woke her from her stupor, gesturing light apologies on her way out as more bodies piled into the elevator.

Fresh air filled her lungs as she finally reached the ground level, going westward toward the neighborhood coffee shop where she’s a regular, and the barista started mixing her drink before she could even fish out her wallet. Condensation on the side of the plastic cup collected at her fingertips, leaving a wet smudge on the door as she exited, her sneakered shoes guiding her in the direction of a statue, faithfully waiting for his master that will never come.

Shiki takes a seat behind Hachiko, and looks down at her watch. 19:01. She chuckles, she’s a minute late. She pops an earbud in her ear, and rests her right hand, palm up, on the side of the seat next to her, and waits. She takes another sip of her drink, licking her lips, savoring the overly sweet beverage on the verge of crystallization.

A couple walks by talking about dinner plans, and a group of female students discussing Prince’s recent social media posts pass by as well. A shiba stops in front of her, tilting its head to the side for a brief moment, almost as if he sees something that others can’t, before his owner tugs him along.

Her breath catches and she waits for a split second before she feels a slight shift in the wind around her, an even lighter pressure on her palm. She exhaled, relishing the feel of the spaces between her fingers filling, and she smiled.

“So, I had another productive meeting today....”

She speaks for about an hour into the wind about how her day went, what her last conversation with Eri was like, even about her new not inanimate pet, Mrs. Mew. From afar, most people think she’s talking to herself, those closer assume she’s on the phone. Little do they know that they are both wrong, but that hasn’t stopped her from coming to Hachiko everyday, and speaking into the void as if she’s carrying on a conversation with a long lost friend.

She’s not exactly sure when she started doing this, but it became her way of, well, grieving. After a couple months of blissful dating, getting to know one another outside the confines of a death game, she had sort of … fallen in love.

Only for that love to be suddenly ripped from her with nothing left but a note, from a not so helpful composer. The first couple of days were devastating, she didn’t leave her bed, she wouldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. The weeks thereafter weren’t much better. Eri, and Rhyme were constantly by her side, making sure she didn’t end up in the hospital for malnuritionment. Beat showed up soon after to smack some sense into her, mostly figuratively.

Beat slammed open her bedroom door, Eri and Rhyme trailing behind yelling at him to calm down. His usual sympathetic expression was replaced with one of impatience and frustration.

“Shiki, enough of this. Get up and go eat somethin’!”

An empty gaze was his only response. He growled, stomping into her room and ripped open the curtains, beams of sunlight showering her floor, her bed, her listless face. In the light he could see that she lost a significant amount of weight in such a short period of time. She was already lean before, now her face began to look sunken in from the starvation and constant darkness. Beat suddenly felt another overwhelming wave of emotion sweep over him.

“This is ridiculous, girl, ya can’t keep goin’ like this or you’ll…” He choked up; he didn’t complete his thought; he just couldn’t. Rhyme and Eri lunged forward to try and hold back the blonde as he grabbed Shiki by the front of her shirt, pulling their faces closer, glaring at her with an intensity he didn’t think he would ever use on her.

Her world shook as droplets fell onto Shiki’s glasses. She could feel Beat shaking from his grasp, his usually clear cerulean eyes were stormy, almost like the sky had broken. A lump formed in her throat. She forgot through her heartbreak that other people might also feel the same pain she was feeling. Sure, she was his first partner, but Beat was also his partner too.

For a tense moment nobody moved, Beat stared into Shiki’s eyes hoping to get his message across wordlessly, Eri and Rhyme holding onto Beat on both sides to restrain him. She had every right to grieve and her pain was more than he could ever imagine, but Beat needed her to know that she wasn’t alone, and that he was there for her, if she would let him. He couldn’t afford to lose her before he got the chance to save him.

Ever so slowly, Shiki moved her one hand over Beat’s. She grabbed a fistful of his jersey in her other hand. For that excruciating week, she went from feeling anxious and depressed to just numb. Now she felt relieved that there was someone else who understood this persistent gnawing ache in her chest. Brotherly simpleton Beat wasn’t being sympathetic to her heartache, but rather empathetic in her mourning.

Her face started to prickle, as the wells that had dried up started to free fall again. She moved to grab Beat, nestling her head into his chest and just … cried. He rested his large hand on her head and hugged her tightly, supporting each other in this moment of catharsis. They stayed like that until Shiki passed out again.

When she came too, Beat, Eri and Rhyme stayed with her that day to make sure she consumed something.

Sometime in the afternoon, Eri decided to attack Beat to get some measurements for a pants design. Big muscular Beat hiding behind tiny Rhyme who was doing little to nothing to protect her older brother from the teen designer wielding a measuring tape going too close for comfort to his ... particular body parts. Shiki graced them all with a smile none of them saw in days.

Big brother Beat decided to have all his meals with her that day forward. Eri said that she could handle this, and found him to be a nuisance, but he didn’t care. Slowly Shiki’s appetite and strength returned, more places ventured outward, even the whirling of her bobbins clicking could be heard throughout the house.

Everytime she had a relapse, a brief moment of chest-tightening, her breath catching, she’d reach out and Beat would be there, embracing her until the panic attack subsided.

With her good days and her bad days, Shiki decided to go back to school after taking a month of absence. Eri got her back into the sewing club, pelting her with designs to keep her busy. The distraction was helpful, almost becoming necessary.

Sometimes she’d go to the skate park, sitting on the bench watching Beat and Rhyme do ollies in front of a setting sun. She would sketch out pieces inspired by the skaters, a little black cat signature adorning each one. Rhyme uploaded some of her designs and completed outfits on a popular social media platform, and named it Gatto Nero with her permission. Sooner than later, Shiki had a following of over one thousand, then five, then over ten approaching twenty. It also helped that her best friend was an influencer and modeled everything Shiki made.

Before anyone knew it, Shiki was approached by the founder of Jupiter of the Monkey, who was impressed by her work, and offered her an intern position while she was still in school. With more tasks to keep her busy, everyday slipped by faster and faster, and the relapses became more infrequent.

A year had passed since his disappearance, and Shiki never really forgot, more so distracted herself with other things to keep her busy on a day like today. After classes, Shiki would go to her internship to work on a couple of assignments and with her last meeting with her supervisor over, she headed out to catch the train home.

She slowed her pace down when she passed the 104 building, mindlessly loitering near the window displays to check out the trends. The Scramble Crossing was busy as usual, and she found herself wandering closer and closer to the statue of Hachiko.

Shiki stared at the bronze canine, her mind drifting to the promise she made quite a long time ago. Realizing she wasn’t in a rush to go home anyway, she took a seat behind the statue.

“Well Neku,” she hesitated, having not uttered his name in almost a year, “it looks like I didn’t keep my promise to be here everyday waiting for you to come back.”

“I-I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.” She could feel her anxiety bubble in her throat, like digging at a wound that had scabbed over and was threatening to bleed out again. Thinking of him was painful, but she realized then that they did have a lot of memories, wonderful, happy memories that she had forgotten in her grief. Memories that were hers to hold onto for as long as she wanted them. Shiki could feel her heartbeat slowing down, the tension in her body subsiding ever so slightly.

“I hope that you’re alright somewhere out there,” she said into the open space in front of her, “I-I miss you.”

Just then a slight touch graced her hands on her lap, but when she looked up, no one was there. The ticking of the crosswalk signs, the pattering of shoes on asphalt, and the shouts of last minute sales continued on as if time and sound hadn’t stopped for a moment. Not exactly sure what she was doing, Shiki raised her hand out in front of her, and a second later, she felt a resistance, an air of familiarity filling the spaces between her fingers effortlessly.

Shiki jumped up in surprise, her bag holding Mr. Mew clattering to the floor before whispering, “...Neku?”

An invisible thumb tapped the back of her hand lightly. She couldn’t hear him, she couldn’t see him, but she could feel him. He was probably in the UG, but for some reason, she could tell he was standing right in front of her.

She sobbed, “Is that really you ---?”

“Shiki! Why ya cryin’? What happened, yo?”

The connection was lost as Beat skated up to her, visibly concerned, looking for some clue as to why his best friend was crying in public. He pulled out a crumpled cloth handkerchief from his back pocket, a gift from Rhyme that came in handy more times than he thought it would.

Shiki continued to stare at the open space, trying to make sense of what had just happened, grasping for what she thought was remnants of a lost love, but the sensation was gone. Whatever was there, it wasn’t there anymore. Even if he was in the game, she shouldn’t have been able to touch anything in the UG. Her mind raced with different jumbled thoughts. What was that? How did that happen? Why now?

“Earth to Shiki!” Beat waved his hand in front of her, successfully snapping her out of her trance.

She looked at him, accepted the handkerchief and dried her tears. Whatever that was, talking about it would only land her another session at the doctor's office. She knew Beat would believe her, but after her long painful year of recovery that he had witnessed, she doubted he would be open to the thought of dredging that wound up again.

Shiki didn’t trust her words, so instead she reached over and hugged him. Without hesitation, Beat returned the gesture. When her sobs had subsided, he gently asked, “let’s bounce?”

In an overprotective brotherly way, he kept his arm around her shoulders after retrieving her bag from the floor.

“Yeah.”

The next morning, Shiki found the day dragging on. She was on autopilot at school, and her assignments at her internship were more clerical in nature, requiring very little brain power. Anything not immediately due would be tomorrow’s problem.

She rushed out of the office building, crossed the scramble and stopped in front of the metal statue. Shiki held her breath as she sat down exactly where she was yesterday. Her muscles tensed as she inhaled deeply.

“So I might be losing my mind, and everyone will think I’m crazy but if you are here, if-if you’re really still here, I’d want you to know that … I miss you Neku.”

For an agonising moment, nothing happened. She wasn’t really sure what she was hoping for. Was everything yesterday just her imagination? Was she just feeling sentimental and willed the tactile sensation into reality?

After a couple more minutes of fruitless imagination, Shiki was about to give up and leave when she felt something, no, someone, grab her hand. Frightened at the sudden contact, Shiki looked down to see that nothing was there, just the fortune lines on her open palm and her silver pinky ring. Yet someone was there, holding her hand in a way she hadn’t felt in so long. She smiled as her eyes began to water.

“It’s you isn’t it.” She said more confidently, though she felt nothing of the sort. A light tap on the back of her hand was her only affirmation.

“I have so many questions for you, but I’ll save them for when you get back. The only one I need to ask is w-will you be back?” She tentatively prodded the air metaphorically, hoping she hadn’t pressed her luck. Another light tap had her smiling once more.

“Beat’s going to kill you if you ever make it out of the UG. Rhyme’s not going to stop him. Eri hates your guts for leaving me.” She chuckled at that. She felt her hand move slightly, almost as if he sat down next to her. He brushed his unseen thumb over her knuckles.

A couple of people passing by looked at Shiki as if she wasn’t having a completely one sided conversation with herself in broad daylight. She honestly couldn’t care less. She rambled on about random things, hoping to catch him up on the entire year he had missed, only the good things because she wasn’t quite ready to talk about the bad ones. She would have continued well into the night if her phone hadn’t rang.

“Girl, why you don pick up ya phone? I’ve been tryin’ to reach ya for hours!” Beat shouted so loudly into her phone she had to remove it from her ear.

“Shiki, where are you?” the smaller girl gently inquired, seemingly having pulled her brother’s phone away from him before he crushed it, “he was about to call the police if you didn’t pick up.”

She could still feel their hands interlocked, but reluctantly replied, “I’m at Hachiko, Rhyme. Tell Beat I’ll text when I leave and get home.”

“Beat wait -- , nevermind he just left. We’ll come pick you up. Just stay there. See you soon!” The phone line clicked.

Shiki sighed, “Beat and Rhyme are coming to get me. It won’t be long before they show up.” She paused, wondering if she could ask what has been on her mind, if the fates were on her side today.

“I’ll promise to be here, everyday, waiting for you to get back to the RG. Until then, can you promise to meet me here, everyday, until I can see you again?” She knew this went against the rules of the game, but the game had dictated her happiness for long enough. If there was any chance of being with him, invisible or otherwise, she would take it.

Her hand moved again, this time their fingers separated, but not completely. His pinky finger wrapped around her silver ring, the same one she wore during the first game, and a new promise was made as they gently shook on it.

And then he was gone. Her hand tingled from the absence of his light touch. She thought she could see faint sparkles from where she presumed he had been sitting. When the Bito siblings found her shortly after, her dazed expression had them both worried, but then a genuine smile broke out on her face as she proposed they go have a light dinner before heading home. Rhyme and Beat looked at each other, communicating through their eyes that they had no idea what had happened, but were glad Shiki’s original spark had finally showed up all the same.

That had been two years ago, and everyday of those two years Shiki spent pretending to talk to someone on the phone instead of an apparition. Everyday for two years of updating his shadow on her daily life routine and not being able to ask him how his day went. This arrangement wasn’t perfect, but just knowing that he was alive, even if they were on separate planes, meant that there was hope she would see him again. Even as the weeks went to months, and months went to years, everyday, he would faithfully show up, and they would hold hands just to exist together behind the symbol of loyalty and patience.

“Tomorrow’s my big collaboration presentation to the executives of Jupiter. Eri and Rhyme are going to be there. We could honestly all use the distraction after what happened with Beat. Please look out for him in the UG? Times like this I really wonder what’s going on with the game now and how many people I have to lose to it before it’s satisfied…”

About two weeks ago, Beat magically disappeared. Shiki was going to his classroom to invite him to lunch with her and Eri when she saw a student in his class hand Beat a pin of some sort. They were trending for a while now, but they reminded Shiki too much of the game to want one for herself. Trauma, bad luck, she wasn’t really sure, but she wanted no part in it.

When the student handed it to Beat though, he vanished into thin air. She dropped her bento and unceremoniously ran into the classroom. Shiki demanded what just happened, when Beat’s classmate just looked at her, his eyes dilated for a second, returned back to normal, and looked surprised. She again pressed on for an answer, to which the student had no idea who or what she was talking about.

It was almost as if Beat’s entire existence was … erased. When she realized that she wasn’t getting anywhere, she ran to the first year classrooms and shouted for Rhyme. Shiki couldn’t imagine why this was happening again. She finally was able to talk to Neku again and now her pseudo brother, Beat, was missing.

Despite the inner turmoil she was feeling, Shiki had enough sense that day to ask Neku if he’d seen or heard from Beat. It was difficult to communicate when the only responses she got were taps on her hand but she managed to find out that Beat was indeed in the UG, even if Neku hadn’t seen him personally yet. Rhyme had a look in her eyes, almost as if she was looking beyond the plane of the RG and was preparing her next move. Rhyme said not to worry, she was going to track down her brother down one way or another.

For the past two weeks, Shiki had a few depressive relapses. Even though she had her coping mechanisms, her rock was gone. Rhyme was working on her military grade computer system to find Beat in the UG, and Eri helped keep her distracted with work. But it wasn’t the same. It helped that Neku was there for her everyday though, like today.

“Well that's all I have for now. Please keep on eye out for the skaterbrain, and wish me luck on my presentation,” she felt a tap on the back of her hand, “till tomorrow.”

As predicted, Shiki was a ball of nerves during her presentation, but she warmed up at least a quarter way through. It helped that she knew most of the execs from her internship days at Jupiter, and were impressed with her work. The collaboration looked promising for the coming days. Eri and Rhyme, both of her founding Gatto Nero board members, ushered her to leave for her date while they settled some details, promising to meet up with her afterward. She felt like she was on top of the world after that meeting, and was bouncing happily to the coffee shop to grab her customary celebratory drink before heading to Hachiko.

What she saw standing behind the statue made her drop her drink and had her flying across the scramble. She barreled into the boy, causing his headphones to fall into his hood. He took a step back to steady them both before bringing his arms around her.

“Hey Shik’s, did ya miss me tha much?” the blond boy flashed a mischievous grin.

“You idiot! I’m so mad at you! I’m going to sew your feet to the ground if you ever do that again!” Shiki screamed at him, throwing fists into his lean chest to demonstrate how mad she really wasn’t.

“Gah girl, when did ya get so strong?” Beat shrieked, trying to hug her again to stop her from hitting him.

“I missed ya too, now stop hittin’ me yo!” She pouted as she squeezed him tight. She had gotten so used to his hugs, she really missed them.

“I got a surprise fo ya.” He pulled away from her so she could see who was behind him.

She stopped breathing. It was like her lungs and heart decided to shut down at the same time, leaving her body to scramble on how to save the rest of her. Her hands tingled from the lack of oxygen as she stared at his face, the one that had matured, but never really changed after three years. He sported his boyish smile, not hidden behind a collar, the ones she admittedly had forgotten about but made her stomach flutter all the same.

“Hey Stalker.”

She could tell that he was nervous, the same nervous energy he had when they started dating years ago. Shiki had dreamed about what their reunion would be like, what she would do when it happened, what she imagined he would say. It wasn’t that, and she wanted to punch him for it if she could just MOVE.

But she felt paralyzed, and he was getting even more nervous from the silent treatment. There were a couple of people she didn’t recognize around them, but all she saw was Neku.

Growing impatient, Beat slapped Neku on the back so hard he fell forward, catching his balance before he could fall into Shiki. When he was close enough she reached out and grabbed his hand, with all the familiarity she had gotten used to for two years. Then he tenderly touched her face, wiping away her tears.

“I’m home.” He said gently.

She managed to mutter, “welcome home,” before he sealed his promise with a kiss she had been waiting too long to return.

OMAKE

“Phones get a room bro! We got kids ‘ere!”

“Yeah Neku-san get some!”

“We aren’t that much younger than you”

“I believe that I am older than all of you. And with that I bid you all farewell as I am in jeopardy of major spoilers. I must get the new EleStra DLC immediately!”

“Boss, wait, we got to celebrate our victory, come back!”

Notes: Full disclaimer, I haven’t finished TWEWY NEO yet, I’m starting the third week now. I’ve spoiled myself, so I sort of know what happens, but a lot of what I do know is out of context. So take this story as you will, it might not make a whole lot of sense, and might be completely off, but I’m excited that when I do finish the game, how my headcannons will have matched up! Or don’t!

That also being said, I starved myself from reading other fanfics on the Neshiki reunion because I didn’t want it to unintentionally change my headcannon and I also wanted to write without feeling like I was copying someone else’s ideas. If my story is similar to someone else’s, it’s purely because great minds think alike. An example of convergent evolution if you will. (I will be devouring those fics very soon though).

Notes regarding the story-wise: I like found family tropes, and I wanted to make it clear that Beat and Shiki’s relationship are purely brother/sister related if I haven’t already. If you have other shipping goggles on, have at it in this judgement free zone. This story was inspired by this idea I had of Shiki sitting behind Hachiko holding hands (I love hand holding. I wrote two other fanfics about that) with Neku, who is transparent being in the UG, just smiling at her while she talks about her day even though she can’t see him. The miracles of love and friendship traverse all planes right?

Anyway, if you’ve read this far, thanks for listening to my Ted Talk and I hope you enjoyed this Neshiki food I’ve haphazardly prepared in like 7 hours.

#The world ends with you #twewy #twewy neo #neshiki #the world end with you neo #neo the world ends with you #neo twewy #shiki misaki #neku sakuraba #rhyme bito #daisukenojo bito #my post #mypost #myfanfiction #my fanfiction #myfanfic #my fanfic

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years

Text

Nothin’ Holdin’ Me Back

Santiago “Pope” Garcia x Reader

The last of the Shawn Mendes song fics. Will be working on new set soon. Um. Let’s see. Warnings.... insecurities? I guess.

Everything tag list: @mikeisthricedeceased

Oscar Tag: @m-1234

I wanna follow where she goes

I think about her and she knows it

Santi woke up to an incoming text. He smirked when he saw the name, ‘Daiquiri.’ He opened the text to see it was a message asking him to come over and that she was lonely.

He chuckled at her message. He had been seeing her for a few weeks. He had met her at a bar a while back. All she drank was frozen Daiquiris because that’s the only drink she liked. After several drinks, the both of them had stumbled back to his place. It might not have been the best experience for both of them, but the next several times certainly made up for it.

He got dressed, brushed his teeth, and after making sure he had his keys, wallet, and phone, he was gone. She lived only a couple blocks from him, so he simply walked over to her place. He had a skip in his step, as he went up the stairs to her townhouse. He knocked on the door, waiting with a smirk.

It took her a moment to answer, and she looked frazzled.

“Hi. I’m sorry. We’re… this… My home is throwing a hissy fit, and apparently wanted a pool,” She complained, glancing back toward her kitchen with a groan.

“I’m sorry. I wasted your time,” She apologized with a small sigh, looking down.

Santi sighed softly, lifting her chin back up. “Tell me what happened?”

I wanna let her take control

'Cause everytime that she gets close, yeah

Just like that, their usual get togethers became something more. Soon, he was over to help her fix random stuff. Or he saw these flowers and they reminded him of her.

She wasn’t going to complain. She enjoyed spending more time with him. He always knew how to brighten her day with small, simple gestures. She was beginning to love just seeing him randomly, and not just for sex.

Sometimes he would come over just to talk. He often has nightmares about the incident in Colombia and just wants someone who will listen without judgment. She liked that he would confide in her. It made her feel like he trusted her.

One night, it was about 3am when he called. She had gone to answer it, but he hung up before she could. She stared at her phone, after trying to call him back twice with no success. She laid gnawing on her lip in worry. She decided to just go to him.

She got up threw on some sweats and a cardigan, hopping into her car and driving over to his place. She stepped up to his house and knocked. Waiting. Soon enough he answered the door.

She looked him over, spying the sweat on his face, and how worn out he appeared.

She simply pushed past him, taking his hand into hers, once he closed the door again, and led him back to him his room. She laid down, pulling him with her, and making him lay down. He situated himself, lying on top of her, his head resting on her chest. He sighed once, before holding her to him tightly. She ran her fingers through his hair, lulling him back to sleep.

She says that she's never afraid

Just picture everybody naked

After that night, they hardly left each other’s side. Besides work, they would often have dinner with each other, or would just spend the day together on a weekend. There were some evenings where they would go and hang out with friends, but they always missed one another.

Santi was tempted to introduce her to the guys but wasn’t sure if he was ready for it. His team were his family, and he didn’t want to risk them hating each other for whatever reason. On a deeper level… was he ready for that? Was he ready for her to see him entirely? That level of commitment that he has never shown before?

It scared him a bit. He knew that he really liked her. Hell, he would even go as far say that he loved her. But did he really? He’s never known love before. He’s never been with a girl long enough to get to that point (or ever wanted to get that close).

One night, he came over and wanted to talk some things out. He forgot however, that she had her girlfriends over for a girl’s night in. So, when he knocked on the door, he wasn’t prepared for all the giggles and laughter he heard, as she opened the door.

“Santi? Hi. Why are you here baby?” She asked him with a smile, slight concern in her eyes.

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot tonight was girl’s night. I just wanted to talk about some stuff. It can… wait. I’ll let you get back to... everything,” He tried to backtrack, wincing slightly.

“Um. Before you go… would you… would you like to meet them? They seem to be under the impression that I made you up,” She mock whispered to him.

He chuckled at that, and said, “If it doesn’t bother you or them, sure. Why not?”

A few minutes later he met her three best friends who all made vague threats to castrate and murder him, if he ‘shattered their best friend’s heart.’

He figured if she was okay with him meeting her best friends, it was time for her to meet his.

She really doesn't like to wait

Not really into hesitation

A week later, she was strolling into a bar, looking for Santi and his friends. She spotted them, and quietly analyzed the group that was with him. There were 3 men, and a woman who had a small baby with her. All 3 men were tall, and well built. Two were blue eyed but one was blonde, the other brunette. The third was tan, with dark hair and eyes. He was currently making faces at the baby trying to get her to laugh.

She slowly made her way over to them, even though she felt like she was interrupting them.

Santi turned his head and spotted her, a smile breaking out on his face as he beckoned her over. She shyly walked up to him, kissing him on the cheek. He introduced to her everyone and pulled out her chair when she went to go sit next to him. He called her by her nickname Daiquiri which made her laugh a bit.

She was quiet for most of dinner, mainly because they made her nervous. She was afraid of saying something and them taking it poorly or something. She wanted them to like her; these were the most important people in his life.

Halfway through the guys got up to go play a round of pool, and she was left with Maria, Frankie’s girl, and their baby, Isobel.

“You can relax around them you know?” Maria softly tells her once they were away.

“I… I’m having a hard time doing so” She admitted, feeling slightly defeated.

“I understand. I was the same way when I first met them too. They have like a hive mind, and inside jokes that I still don’t understand. But they are all genuinely nice guys, so breathe. Loosen up,” Maria assured her, shaking her teasingly. “Here. Hold Isobel for a moment, I gotta go to the bathroom.”

Maria hands her the baby, as she stood up and the walked away. She stares at the baby concerned for a moment, gently adjusting her in her arms. She sighed softly, looking down at her. Isobel giggled at her, as she grabbed a lock of her hair.

“Oh? You like my hair? Please don’t tug on it, princess. I know. It’s very tempting, but ow,” She winced slightly as Isobel gave it a sharp tugged.

She gently untangled her hair from the teeny tiny fist with baby hulk strength. Once her hair was free, she simply just started talking to her. Isobel watched her with an odd look of awe as she spoke, and soon fell asleep in her arms. She didn’t know quite what to do, so she just stayed there, somewhat rocking her.

When Maria returned, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Isobel was asleep, and helped Daiquiri lay her gently into her baby carrier.

She looked up to see what the guys were doing and wished she hadn’t immediately. A pretty young girl, was standing next to Santi, heavily flirting with him, and he… from the looks of it… wasn’t ignoring her advances. In fact, he looked a lot like the night they first met: leaning to the side, a hand in his pocket, and a smirk on his face.

She bit her lip. She wasn’t quite sure what to do. They never really said they were exclusive. Never really spoke about what they were to one another. She looked down, not wanting to watch anymore. She just quietly pulled out some cash, to pay for her meal and tip, before quickly leaving. If she had been paying attention, she would have noticed that the girl who was over with Santi, had walked away from him, frowning.

Pulls me in enough to keep me guessing, whoa

And maybe I should stop and start confessing

Santi hadn’t realized what had happened. All he knew was after he and Frankie won their game, he looked over to where Daiquiri had been and sees she was no longer there.

Maria, however, was and she was frowning deeply at him. He made his way over to her, and asked, “Where did she go?”

“Probably home. Since you seemed to have a grand ol’ time with malibu barbie over there,” Maria informed him with slight disgust.

“Malib- what are you talking about? I told her she was too young for me, and that I had a girlfriend?” He defended.

“That’s not how it looked from here,” Maria tells him with a sigh.

“Shit. What do I do? I… I’m in love with this girl Maria,” He begged her, stressing, running a hand through his hair worriedly.

“Go. After. Her.” Maria explained slowly.

Santi nodded, quickly paying for his tab and rushing out. He was freaking out on the drive to her place. He didn’t know what to say or do to make this right. He just knew that what she saw wasn’t what it seemed.

He quickly parked in front of her house, and rushed up to the door, knocking.

He heard a slight shuffling, before the door opened slightly.

“What Santi?” She asked, her voice cracking, as she stood there, not even opening the door wide enough for him to see her.

“Can we… can we please talk? I swear. I wasn’t flirting with that girl. I was telling her I had a girl,” Santi desperately tried to plead.

She snorted lightly, not quite believing him.

“You don’t have to explain. It’s not like we…” Her voice faltered for a moment. “It’s not like we said we were exclusive. So. Technically you’re perfectly allowed to do whatever you want.”

“Baby… that’s not… that’s.. I..” He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Look. I’m tired. Um. I just want to go to bed right now. We can… talk later… or something,” She told him as she closed the door.

Confessing, yeah

'Cause if we lost our minds and we took it way too far

I know we'd be alright, I know we would be alright

A talk… that she kept avoiding. She wanted to talk to him, but then her mind would think up all the reasons why she shouldn’t bother.

‘You weren’t exclusive.’

‘This was just a friends with benefits thing.’

‘You didn’t mean anything to him.’

‘He’s known for not settling down with one chick.’

‘Why would he settle down with you?’

The last thought, in particular, was the main reason why she’s been avoiding him. She knew the moment she met him that he wasn’t the type for commitment. But for a while there, she let herself hope. She really thought that maybe he had changed.

So, she avoided his calls and texts. She avoided his knocks on her door at all hours. Some of her friends wanted to go and beat him up for hurting her. She told him to let it go, that she was the idiot who fell in love with him.

Her best friend, however, had a different thought. One night, she came over to talk.

“Okay. Imma say something. I want you to listen to me for a moment. If you truly meant nothing to him, why is he blowing up your phone left and right? Why is he trying to talk to you constantly to explain?” Amanda, her friend, questioned.

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Go. Talk. To. Him. Let him explain fully what happened. If nothing did, then fucking move on. You are miserable, so go. To. Him,” Amanda stated firmly, pulling her to the door. “I’m locking you out of your own house, bye.”

Amanda shoved her out, and she heard the lock turn.

“I hate you!” She shouted at her through the door.

“Love you too. Go fix things with your man!” Amanda called back.

She made the awkward stroll over to Santi’s place, shivering because it was chilly out and she had no jacket.

When she stood in front of his door, she bit her lip, fidgeting with her hands.

She slowly reached up and knocked.

If you were by my side and we stumbled in the dark

I know we'd be alright, I know we would be alright

Santi… was not doing okay. He hadn’t realized it, but she had become his anchor. She grounded him when the days or nights got rough. It had only been a few days, but he was struggling. He was having a hard time sleeping.

His head jerked up when he heard the knocking. Thinking it was one of the guys, he sighed loudly, getting up from the couch and answering it.

He was surprised when he sees her there instead.

“Hi,” She whispered.

He looked her over, noticing her eyes were puffy from crying and she was slightly shivering.

“Did… did you walk over here? Honey. It’s 34 degrees out! Get inside,” He stated, pulling her in, rubbing her arms with his hands.

“Amanda. L-locked me out. T-told me to come t-talk to you finally,” She slightly stuttered out, as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm up.

“Did Amanda think to check the current temperature before doing this? C’mon. C’mere.” He beckoned leading her to the couch where he threw one of the several blankets she brought over on various dates, around her shoulders.

He went into his kitchen and quickly made her a cup of hot chocolate, bringing it over to her gently. She took it from him, the warmth of the mug, immediately taking the chill from her hands. He sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close.

It took some time, but soon enough her shivering had subsided.

“I wasn’t flirting with that chick. I swear. I almost lost that game of pool, because I kept watching you. Seeing you hold Isobel… drove me crazy. I never thought about that kind of stuff before…” He quietly explained to her.

“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, I should have… let you explain. I… I just… figured… you were bored of me or something…” She mumbled back, sniffling slightly.

“Nah. I… I’m crazy for you baby. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. I… I love you,” He whispered pressing a kiss to her head.

I know we'd be alright, we would be alright

Oh, I've been shaking

She felt her breath catch as he confessed that. She could feel her lip tremble and tears well up in her eyes. She wasn’t expecting that.

“You don’t have to say it back just yet. I just want you to know… you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. No one else can compare to you,” He said sweetly.

She bit her lip and nodding her head slightly. She slowly finished her drink and Santi set the empty cup into the sink, rinsing it out. She got up and walked over to him. She stood behind him, and slowly wrapped her arms around him, resting her face against his back.

She raised herself to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the small scar at his neck. She felt him shiver slightly at the sensation. He slowly turned around to her, his arms going around her waist.

“Umm. Would… would you like to stay the night?” He asked her hesitantly.

She nodded her head. She bit her lip for a moment, before going back onto her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He kissed her back, his hands moving down to her thighs.

“Jump,” He muttered against her lips.

She does so, and he catches her, walking the two of them up to his bedroom.

I love it when you go crazy

You take all my inhibitions

It took some time, but the two of them got back to normal routine. They had a long conversation together, which ended in him officially stating that he was hers, and she was his.

Santi realized from that conversation that meeting all of the guys, was a little intimidating. So, he tried again, but one at a time. Frankie and her immediately hit it off, especially when Isobel recognized her and got very excited.

Will was a bit more cautious but soon they were having conversation about dominos and fidget spinners and weird traps. They are now planning a whole elaborate chain reaction of dominoes.

Benny was overactive and excitable, but she got used to it fairly quickly. He was a bit like a overgrown puppy in her words.

Soon enough, they were going out with the whole group. One night, they had gone out with the whole gang and were playing a game of darts. The guys for all their military know-how, were awful. She kept laughing at all of them when they would try to go for the bullseye and failed.

Santi dared her, “You try then.”

She took the darts from him and tossed all three into the bullseye with ease.

Santi stared at her in awe, “How?”

“A lady never reveals her secrets,” She teased moving away from him.

He chased after her, grabbing her and tickling her. Her laughter was high pitched and infectious.

When she finally got over her giggles, she said something that he wasn’t expecting.

“I love you,” She said breathless.

Santi couldn’t stop smiling all night. He wasn’t sure what the future held in store for him, but he knew one thing: he had the love of his life by his side.

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back

You take me places that tear up my reputation

Manipulate my decisions

Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back (oh whoa)

#santiago pope garcia #santi x reader #santiago garcia x reader #song fic

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amazedforjjk · 4 years

Text

Black Crow - Yoongi

Summary: It’s not often you stumble upon a handsome tied up man in your parking lot in the dead of the night. What adventures this mysterious stranger is going to embark you on?

Genre: mafia!Yoongi, angst, humor, a tiny tiny hint of fluff

Warnings: Strong language, violence, blood and injuries, mentions of abuse and torture, tragic backstory, snarky Yoongi

A.N: Black Crow is finally here!! I’m so excited for you guys to read it! I’ll go on a hiatus for about two weeks but I’ll be back, don’t worry! I already have a new story idea I’m excited about!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow, I love interacting with you guys!!

Word count: 14K

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10:43 pm

It’s pitch black when you step out through the big glass doors of your office complex and the only way you manage to put a foot in front of the other without falling on your face is thanks to your flashlight on your phone. Everyone is already gone by now, and you should be as well but your boss had asked you to stay later tonight, because that fucker isn’t able to prepare a powerpoint by himself. Fucking boomers and their inability to use a computer. You huff in frustration as your heels click on the ground. You try to readjust your tight skirt by pulling at the edge. You hate this office with a passion, from your boss to his abject dress code. You absolutely despise having to dress in a tighter than normal grey skirt along with dark pantyhoses and a white blouse just for him to ogle you and your female coworkers. Your scalp hurts from having to pull your hair in a tight bun everyday.

Your heels are so fucking painful after a day of working, your boss making a point of having you run around the open space for different files that he strangely doesn’t need merely five minutes after asking you for them. You are not his assistant either, so you shouldn’t have to do anything for his fat ass but he holds your career in his hands, promising you the position you aspired towards for the past year without ever committing to his word. You huff again as you try to find your car in the dark, holding your phone between your shoulder and your cheek while you rummage in your purse to find your keys. Your office’s neighborhood isn’t exactly unsafe at night but you’d rather be home as fast as possible.

Admittedly, no one’s waiting for you there, except your bed and a comfy pair of pants, but you still sigh in contentment when you find the button to open your car. You get in in a hurry, throwing your bag across on the passenger seat and starting the car up. You already feel more relaxed in your car, removing your painful heels to drive. Your ankles are covered in blisters for sure and the tight fabric of your pantyhose pressing against the tender skin makes you grit your teeth. You drive home in a hurry, certainly not very safely but you don’t seem to care tonight, still fueled on the rage you piled up inside you today.

It’s definitely not your dream job, but a writer’s salary doesn’t pay the bills, at least not yours. And it’s not that bad; Sure you hate everyone in this office but the work in itself is okay, and the paycheck is worth the trouble. It’s thanks to that that you are two steps from owning your apartment in the center of the city, currently reimbursing your loan from the bank. It’s also why you need that new position; Bigger responsibilities but a bigger paycheck and flexible hours, perfect for an aspiring writer. Most importantly, you’ll don’t have to do anything for your asshole of a boss anymore.

You park in your parking spot down your building complex, calming down as you retrieve your keys from the ignition. You sigh. Sometimes you think you let the rage of your job consume you because it masks the loneliness overflowing from you everytime you come back home. You shouldn’t feel that way; you are the one who decided to move thousands of miles away from your parents. You are the country girl who decided to flee her small town to settle in the big city. You are not the only one, most of your friends moved as well, but not to the capital and sometimes you feel really alone. Even if you live in an over crowded city you can’t seem to find people to talk to other than a therapist.

You sigh as you slip your uncomfortable heels back on, stepping out of your car with your bag. You don’t notice at first the grunts and sounds of straining as you close your door and lock the car, but when you do you still instantly. Your eyes scan all around you while you strain your ears to find the origin of the noise. It sounds like a man is struggling against something, huffing and puffing in frustration.

The parking lot is empty and dimly lit, which is not unusual at this time of the night. You grab your phone tightly in your hand. The screen reads 11:07 pm before you tap on the emergency button. You don’t call the cops yet, but you feel a bit more reassured now that they are only a phone call away. You tentatively step closer to the trunk of your car towards the sound, steadying your breathing to be as silent as you can. Surely the person making the sound has already heard you arriving in your car and knows you are here but the fear gnawing your stomach keeps you from thinking straight. You forget about your painful heels, the rage of the day and your loneliness to focus entirely on the sounds . You can tell the man is still struggling, grunts and curse words alike becoming louder.

The deep voice spits a “Fuck!” and a car two rows away from yours sways lightly as if someone pushed against it. Having finally located the source of the sound you approach the car slowly, only stopping when you are close enough to determine what’s happening. A man is sitted against the back door of said car, head turned to look at his hands behind his back while struggling so that you can only see his raven hair. From the rope tied around his shoulders, you gather that his hands must be tied up as well and that he must be trying, with no success thus far, to break free.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, and you take advantage of that to figure out what the hell you are supposed to do in this situation. You could call the cops, leave him in their hands and he’ll be fine. Or you could try to free him from his bonds, there’s no need to get the police involved if it’s only a bad prank gone wrong. You glance at the chains around his neck; a silver skull is on the biggest of them and you can’t help but gulp. He could be dangerous… Like a gang member? Who else wears chains and skulls nowadays? Or he could be in danger, you realize as you notice a big dark stain on his khaki shirt. Wait, is that blood?

You let out an involuntary squeak as the stain seems to get even bigger. Your eyes widen when you realize how much you fucked up and you bring your hands to your mouth as if it would silence you but it’s too late. At the sound the man snaps his head in your direction, his grey eyes instantly finding yours. His brows are furrowed in both frustration and surprise, making him look intimidating. What shocks you the most though is the huge scar coming from his forehead to his cheekbone. You can’t help but take a step back, your hands falling to your sides, revealing your gaping mouth.

His eyes scour you and his eyebrows relax when he seems to understand that you pose no threat to him, but he still doesn’t talk. He gets up from where he was sitting, using the car behind him for support, gritting his teeth together in effort. You take another step back and your rear meets the car behind you. He looks much more intimidating now; he isn’t particularly tall nor is he very broad but his stance makes him terrifying. Your instincts are screaming at you to run away, that he is dangerous, but it’s like you are glued in place, unable to move. It’s only when he winces in pain again, surely from the wound on his side that you regain your ability to form coherent thoughts.

He is tied up and wounded; The man’s not a lot of a threat for you right now. A kick in his groin and you should be able to get home without a problem. You gulp before breaking the silence.

“You are wounded… It looks bad” is all you can muster tentatively. Silence.

Wow, that was lame, you internally cringe. He simply cocks an eyebrow and a smirk appears on his lips.

“Yeah, no shit”

You stammer and you feel your face heat up. Unable to find a witty comeback, you just huff, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Look, you need help or not?” you say simply but that is enough to wipe the smirk off his lips. It’s his turn to huff before looking away from you and you wonder how he could seem so intimidating earlier. He turns around, not without difficulty, facing away from you in an incredible demonstration of trust, displaying his tied up hands and you warily step towards him.

“Don’t try anything, I have a taser in my purse,” you bluff, eyeing the ropes currently cutting into his chafed wrists. The ropes are bloodied and you question how long he was trying to break free for. His shoulders move up and down as he laughs.

“I’ll be good,” he says, his voice filled with sarcasm. You roll your eyes. He is way too sassy for someone presently tied up.

You start to tug at his binds, trying to find the knot to let him free. He grunts as you put pressure on the damaged skin of his wrists. You look up from his wrist to look at him. He is turned but you can see his strained face in the car window’s reflection. Now that you can see him from a closer perspective, he looks abnormally livid, eyes unfocused and panting. He looks like he’s about to pass out, you note. Wait, he is passing out! You barely have the time to catch him before one of his knees falters.

“Hey hey hey- Dude? Are you okay?” you ask, voice full with concern. He mumbles, quite clearly unable to talk. “Fuck” you curse under your breath. You’ll deal with the rope later, you need to treat his wound. You grab his shoulder, trying to get him to lean on you and you start to walk to your apartment complex. He doesn’t even try to complain, and you are grateful; It’s already too difficult to carry his weight in your flimsy heels, especially without a good grasp on him. The ropes around him make it difficult for you to hold him steady, and he almost fell a few times when you tried to get a better grip.

Your perfect bun is ruined by the time you reach the elevator, and you are panting from the effort. Who’d have thought having to drag a semi conscious man across a fucking parking lot would be so difficult? The elevator ride provides you with a break, and you simply keep him against the wall while you catch your breath. His face is lolling forward, chin pressed against his chest. He still looks white as a sheet and you start to worry. Was it really a good idea to bring him home? You are capable of treating wounds, that’s not the problem, but if his wound is too deep or if he needs a blood transfusion you won’t be able to do anything.

“Shit, I should’ve brought you to the hospital,” you say, mainly to yourself as you stare at the elevator’s mirror.

“NO!” he shouts, making your head snap to look at him, alarmed. He managed to lift his head to look at you, his grey eyes burning with a fiery determination. “No hospital,” he repeats, and you nod at him, disconcerted. He calms after your nod, his head sinking back down to his chest.

Entering your apartment was a challenge; You had to hold the black haired man against the wall with your side while you searched your purse for your keys. He almost fell when you found them and forgot to press into him against the wall to open the door. Thankfully for him you realised your mistake early enough, dropping both your keys and bag to keep him from crashing on the wooden floor. You are also grateful none of your neighbours decided to take a midnight stroll, or they would have seen you pressing a tied up and passed out man against the wall with your body while desperately trying to open the door. Hardly something you want to be remembered by.

You plop the unconscious man on the couch unceremoniously, forgetting for a second his wound. You wince when you realise your mistake, but thankfully the man is too out of it to make one of his snarky comments. You retrieve your first aid kit from the bathroom and take advantage of his state to treat his wound. It is not too deep so you are able to patch it up without having to stitch him up. You’ve never been so happy to have a nurse as a mother, having learned most of your healing skills from her. You conclude, relieved, that his passing out is mostly due to the shock rather than excessive blood loss, since he didn’t seem to have a concussion when he talked to you. Adrenaline must have kept him in a conscious state of mind until he realized you didn’t mean any harm.

You cut through the rope with a kitchen knife, taking the opportunity to inspect him for any more injuries. You treat his wrists with an antiseptic cream before bandaging them. He is not otherwise severely harmed, though he does sport some nasty bruises on his --surprisingly toned-- chest. What the fuck happened to him?

You sit back on the ground, facing him, when you finally finish your check-up. His breathing is steady and he seems to have regained a splash of color on his face. You take the opportunity to take a better look at him. His features are sharp though he does have a cute button nose and cute pink lips. You shake your head to chase those thoughts. What is wrong with you, checking out a passed out man?

You check for his temperature before sighing. You are incredibly tired, the day was already exhausting as it is, nevermind with this sudden encounter. You decide against putting away the kitchen knife, instead taking it with you to your room. You are nice, not stupid, and though you don’t feel in danger anymore, you are not the one to take unnecessary risks.

It’s already well past midnight when you go to sleep, knife under your pillow. You hope your guest on the couch will wake up early as you need to be up early tomorrow for your job. You’d like him to be gone as soon as possible, men like this only mean trouble. Sure you’d like to know a bit more about him, like how did he wind up in your parking lot at 11pm tied up and injured. But you know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat’, and you value your comfortable life too much to put it in jeopardy for a man’s backstory. Who knows what could happen?

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You wake up late the next morning. After a quick shower and almost falling flat on your ass trying to get dressed as fast as possible, you sprint out your room into the living room. The couch is empty and you smile to yourself. He’s gone. Good. It’s one less thing for you to worry about so you dart through the door, trying to make it in time before getting chewed out by your boss for arriving 3 minutes late.

You manage to sit at your desk one minute before the start of your shift and you sigh. Here we go again, another day of having to deal with dumbasses. Despite the fact that you woke up late, the rest of the day proves to be quite good. Instead of being his usual manipulative asshole self, your boss decides to ask you in his office to talk about your well deserved promotion, and tells you that an interview is set for you tomorrow in order to decide whether or not you should get the job. You spend the rest of the day on cloud nine, excastic to finally see your hard work rewarded.

You rush home after another hard day of work, sleep deprived and craving the comfort of your covers. It seems however that fate has other plans for you, you realise when you open the door to fall on last night’s guest. He was still here. Shit. He is comfortably seated on your couch, feet on the table while he’s watching TV. Eyes wide, you drop your bag on the floor.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! I thought you were gone!” you shout at him. He nonchalantly eyes you up and down, smirking at your crestfallen expression.

“You locked me in this morning,” he answers simply. “I couldn’t open the door to get out.”

The way he pronounces these words without a care in the world leads you to believe he mustn't have tried really hard to get out. You bring your hands to rub your face, feeling anger building up within you. Who does he think he is?

“You have a nice place,” he says gesturing around him with his hand. “Also, you shouldn’t keep a knife under your pillow, it’s dangerous,” he adds, brows furrowed in fake concern.

“You went in my room?!” you ask, clearly fuming. The nerve of this guy!

“Of course, I had to make sure I couldn’t find another exit”, he says, as if it was obvious. This guy is seriously getting on your last nerve, and you grit your teeth, trying to avoid exploding in his face. He seems to pick up on your aggravated state and his face becomes serious. He lifts his feet from the table, standing up to move closer to face you.

“Thank you for last night. I owe you a lot”

He bows slightly and it’s like your anger evaporates, making way for your curiosity to take over.

“Yeah about that… What happened to you last night?” His face hardens instantly and his whole body stiffens. He seems to ponder what to say for a while, obviously not quite ready to let you in on the situation.

“I can’t tell you--”

“I think you owe me that much” you retort, interrupting his refusal. He huffs and thinks for a bit more time.

“You’re right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I had... uh... Some troubles... With a gang”

By the way he forces the words out of his mouth, you figure this is the most you’ll get out of him right now. It does make sense in a way, and you are now glad you could help him. You hum in acknowledgment and he seems relieved to know you won’t ask anymore questions. It’s his business anyway, and you already know enough.

“I figure that you need to lay low for a while, wrong?” you sigh, passing by him to go to the kitchen. He looks surprised but quickly regains his composure. He hums positively, still not quite sure where this is going. “It’s late, you can stay tonight as well if you want.”

You don’t know why you are saying this. Inviting a stranger to stay for one more night? Are you going nuts? Are you really that lonely that you would invite someone --whom you met in sketchy circumstances, let’s not forget-- to spend the night with you? His response cuts the little voice in your head nagging at you.

“That’d be good, yes” and you turn to meet his eyes. His face is still serious but you can discern a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m Y/l/n Y/n by the way”

“Min Yoongi”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Tonight’s menu is take out,” you say, turning to face him completely, leaning on the counter behind you.

“I’m fine with that,” he says with a playful smile and you don’t fail to notice the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Did you say something funny?

You brush it off, instead focusing on ordering chicken fried rice and dumplings from your favorite chinese place in the neighborhood on your phone. Yoongi returns to focus on the TV while you order, and you take advantage of this to observe him. At first glance, he looks fairly nonchalant, without a care in the world, but the more you examine him, you notice the slight movements of his eyes whenever you make a sound. He doesn’t look uneasy, more like generally careful of you. In fact, it looks like he chose to sit where he could monitor you without you catching him, sitting at a certain angle so he doesn’t have to turn his head to watch you.

You gulp, suddenly feeling more on edge than before. Now that you see it, he seems more controlled than you would think, as though the very way he sits is meticulous; as if to convey that he is non-threatening to you, while still being able to act if need be. You can’t help but feel he might have downplayed his troubles, that type of behaviour does not match with a small lowlife’s who would just have “some troubles with a gang”. No, he knows what he’s doing, and has known from the very beginning, purposefully using sarcasm to break the tension and get you to help him. You don’t think he manipulated you into bringing him home though, that man was too passed out to manage that feat.

You grab the counter to ground you. Realising you just welcomed someone that appears to be dangerous and manipulative into your own home is not a great feeling. If Yoongi has noticed your sudden tenseness, he doesn’t let it show. He’ll be gone by tomorrow, you remind yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. You feel like a prey stuck with a wolf in sheep’s disguise. But you are no damsel in distress, you’ll be just fine if you stay wary. Keep your guard up while not letting him know you figured him out. Guess you’ll be sleeping with a knife under your pillow tonight as well.

The rest of the night continues on fairly pleasantly. You do most of the talking during the night, telling him stories about your awful boss and your dream job. Yoongi is actually good company, listening to you with a smile, though you still feel that he contains himself. You purposefully avoid talking about his past or his job, not wanting to make a wrong move and anger him. The less you know the better. The atmosphere between the two of you is still somewhat tense, and you all but jump when the doorbell rings, announcing your dinner’s arrival.

He does seem to relax once his stomach full, even going as far to flash you a gummy smile when you lose balance and the empty take out boxes come crashing onto the ground. Granted, he was laughing at your clumsiness but you had a good time nonetheless.

“I need to be up early tomorrow, I should hit the sack,” you say while throwing out the take out boxes. “I’ll leave at 7:30 so you’ll have to leave at that time too”, you add and he hums in understanding.

You bid him goodnight before entering your room and as you are pushing the door a small “Thank you, Y/n” escapes his lips. You turn around and return his small smile. Is it just you or did this one seem sincere?

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You don’t wake up sleep deprived this time around. In fact, you feel better than you have in a while. Is this the effect of having company for once? You scoff at your own thoughts before preparing yourself for the day. No, it’s of course because of your near new job interview. Yoongi is up and ready when you step out of your room to get your coffee, his wet hair sticking to his face.

“You want one?”, you ask him, pointing at the coffee machine. He nods and thanks you when you hand him a coffee. This morning feels a little awkward, you note. You are not quite sure what to say in this situation, and apparently neither is he because the both of you are just staring at each other while sipping your coffees, waiting for the other to say something. You also note the contrast between you too; him, wearing worn out grey jeans and an oversized khaki bomber jacket, and you, wearing a tight black skirt, an assorted suit jacket and an ironed white blouse. Once done with your coffee, you slip your uncomfortable heels and the both of you step out into the elevator.

It is finally time for you to separate when you step out on the street. You turn to face him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What to say? You are relieved when he starts talking first.

“Thank you for letting me stay, Y/n, I owe you one”, he says with a small smile.

“Well, two if we’re honest”, you answer with a smirk. He looks at you amused. You take a glance at your watch. “Alright, I should go, or I’ll be late for my interview. Goodbye, Min Yoongi”. You wave at him. You fail to notice the men coming up from behind him. You should have, you have never seen them before, and them sporting black clothes and heavy gold chains would have stuck with you. Yoongi does notice the ones coming from behind you though, his eyes widening. It’s far too late however, and he cannot reach you before he is grabbed from the back. You scream when you feel two pairs of hands on each side of you, maintaining you in place. Yoongi is trying to fight off his assailants but he is quickly overpowered, knocked out by a nasty blow to his temple. For your credit, your struggling gave them a hard time trying to contain you as well, scratching and kicking in every direction, but a hit in the face is enough to finally calm you, rendering you unconscious.

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You wake up face down in the trunk of a car. You can tell by the sound of the engine as well as the smell of gasoline. Your head hurts and you are disoriented. Everything is dark and you are cramped up in a tiny space, something soft under you. The haze surrounding your mind lifts instantaneously when you remember what happened before you blacked out. You struggle when you find out your hands and feet are tied up, but still at once when the soft thing under you releases an ‘ooomph’ sound.

“Yoongi?!”, you shriek. You immediately regret speaking so loud, cursing under your breath. Just because you can’t hear them in the car doesn’t mean they can’t hear you.

“Yeah..” he responds, voice strained, obviously in pain from the elbow you lodged in his ribs as you tried to move around.

“What the fuck is going on?”, you whisper-shout, anger boiling in your veins. You knew that man was trouble but you invited him in anyway. This is what you get when you don’t listen to your instincts. You hear him sigh above your head.

“Remember the gang I told you about?” he says tentatively, knowing you are only inches away from exploding. “Well, I killed their leader and they are not very happy with me right now.”

You can’t believe what you are hearing.

“And that’s ‘some troubles’ for you?! What the fuck, Yoongi?!”

“That’s really all that you take away from what I just said?”, he retorts in disbelief.

No, it’s really not. But right now, the fact that you are acquaintances with a murderer is the least of your worries. “Fuck”, you utter, hitting your head softly on his chest. The fear mixing with anger inside you makes it difficult for you to think. How are you going to get out of this mess?

“You seem awfully calm for someone who’s just been kidnapped, Yoongi”, you say against his chest, your head still a bit dizzy from the hit you’ve received from your kidnappers.

“This is not my first rodeo, sweetheart”

You scoff at his nonchalant response, but it somehow reassures you a bit. At least you are not alone.

“So, what’s your fucking plan to get us out of here then, cowboy?”, you ask, expecting a brilliant plan to get the both of you out of harm’s way unscathed and-

“I don’t know yet”

Were you drinking anything, you would’ve spat your drink in his face in disbelief. But you are not, so you decide to head butt him in the chest instead. Hard.

“Ow, what the fuck?”, he whisper-shouts, obviously surprised by your sudden violence.

“You got me in this mess dude, now you get me out of it!”

You are seeing red. Even in this kind of situation he isn’t serious, driving you crazy with his nonchalant responses. He is going to get me killed, you think to yourself.

“I’ve escaped once from them, I can do it again. They are not exactly the brightest bunch”, he says, and you feel him shift under you. “The sole fact that they took you with me is proof. Would you turn on your back please, darling?”

Though you don’t understand why, you comply without a complaint. The man is supposed to be used to this, now’s not the time to ask questions. You twist on your back with difficulty, not without purposefully elbowing him in the stomach once again, disguising it as an accident when he starts to curse you out. As soon as you are in position, you feel his hands feeling around their way to yours, reaching your binds in no time. You can’t help but shriek when the cold blade of what you guess is a knife touches your forearm.

“First rule of kidnapping, darling, always check the belt”, he explains while cutting through the rope attaching your wrists together with dexterity. You are free in less time that you need to say it, rubbing your chafed wrists in disbelief. You are impressed to say the least, and quite relieved to have underestimated your kidnappee buddy. He hands you the knife.

“Alright, now I need you to free our feet. With you on top of me like that I can’t do it”

You start to shift in the small space trying to bend in order to reach your feet, feeling as you go. You’ve never been the most flexible but you don’t pay mind to the pain in your lower back as you start to cut through the rope around his feet, a weird feeling of deja vu settling in the back of your mind.

“Wait… Is that MY kitchen knife?!”, you ask in an ushered yet still incredulous voice, recognizing the grip of the knife in your hands.

“Of course it is”, he says as if it was obvious. “Did you seriously think that I, a hit-man searched for by the most dangerous gang of the country, would leave anywhere unarmed?”, he adds after hearing your disbelieving scoff. His feet are free now and you start to cut through your binds.

“The most dangerous- What?! I thought you said they weren’t the brightest bunch?!”, you reply, incredulous, stopping to cut for a second.

“Well yes, I killed the brains of the gang”, he says matter-of-factly. “You done with the knife? Give it to me.”

You hand him back the knife, your ankles now free of the restraints. The car is still moving, and you start to wonder what Yoongi is planning to do. Best course of action would probably be to wait for the car to stop and the kidnappers to open the trunk, taking them by surprise.

This doesn’t seem to be what Yoongi has in mind however, as you feel him start to rip off the carpet on the floor of the trunk. Your eyes widen but you try to move over to the front part of the trunk, letting him space to go on his rampage on the carpet. Has he gone mad? Is this how you die?

“What the fuck are you doing?”, you ask him through gritted teeth. Now’s not the time to attract attention.

“I’m looking for the trunk release cable” he says flatly, obviously focused on his task.

“Huh?”

“It should be… Right about... Here!” He pulls on something at once and the trunk suddenly opens. Your eyes hurt from the abrupt surge of light and you shield your eyes. The car starts to sway dangerously, the kidnappers obviously as surprised as you are to see the trunk pop open. Your eyes don’t have the time to accommodate before Yoongi yanks you by your hand, making you crash in his chest, before jumping, effectively throwing the both of you out of the trunk onto the road. Thankfully, Yoongi had the presence of mind to jump at an angle, making you tumble into the sidewalk instead of underneath the wheels of the car behind yours.

You barely have time to register what just happened before Yoongi pulls you by the hand again. Everything hurts and you are not quite sure what just happened, but you follow suit, running after him. You discard the only heel left on your feet after your little acrobatic feat in order to be able to run properly on the sidewalk. You don’t even pay mind to the incredulous glares the two of you gather. Oh what a sight you must be, running barefoot in the streets, cheeks, hands and knees wounded, your clothes a mess and your previously done up hair flowing in the wind. There are not many people around, making it easy for you to run, but easy for your kidnappers to find you. The car must have stopped a few moments after the trunk popped open because men are running after you, screaming.

Yoongi makes a sudden turn in a narrow and dark alleyway. You want to ask him where he is leading you but you are too breathless to even say a word. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep going like that, especially since your feet are starting to hurt from the gravel and the shards of glass covering the alleyway. You keep on running anyway, somehow convinced that the man running in front of you knows what he’s doing.

The sound of a gunshot rings right next to your ears, the bullet embedding itself on the wall alongside you. You shriek as the sound brings you back to earth, and you start to run even faster, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Yoongi doesn’t even flinch, continuing to run, brows furrowed and eyes trained in front of him. You make a second abrupt turn, leading even deeper in the maze of alleyways of your city. This part of the town is known to be the headquarters of the criminal activity, so it’s no wonder you are completely lost here whereas Yoongi expertly proceeds through, leading you to an unknown place.

The deeper you sink in the maze, the more people you meet, and the more scared you become. Everything is so foreign and dangerous to you, and you grip tighter on Yoongi’s hand as he pushes through the mob. It might be a bit stereotypical but these people all look too intimidating to you, especially since you are running away from men who just tried to kill you. You should thank them really, since they help you escape, unbeknownst to them. The alleys are larger now, though still very dark, and your nose catches whiffs of grilled meat and other delicacies as you run past the shady food stands. You are a bit overwhelmed as you progress through the crowd; Your heart is beating in your ears and your mind is racing, unable to entirely make sense of what you are experiencing.

Yoongi yanks on your hand once again, beckoning you to turn in yet another alley. This one is distinctly smaller and emptier than the former, and Yoongi stops abruptly in front of a back door, letting go of your hand to pound on the dirty metal door. His pounding is insistent and for the first time he looks nervous, eyeing where you just came from warily. The door doesn’t seem to want to open despite his persistence and he starts to curse. Behind him, you are quite literally trembling with anxiety. Your heart is throbbing in your chest and you only just realise your cheeks are wet with tears. Have you been crying the whole time?

“Fuck Jin, open the god damn door!”, Yoongi shouts, fist thumping against the metal, startling you from your thoughts. The door finally rattles and opens to reveal a tall yawning man. His brows are furrowed in discontent and you can tell he is going to chew Yoongi out before stopping crestfallen upon seeing his state. He doesn’t even notice you at first, too preoccupied for his friend to cast you a glance.

“Took you long enough” Yoongi grumbles, quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside after him, pushing past his friend who is still staring at him, mouth open wide. The latter sighs before closing the door without a word and following you. The doorway leads to a small living room with a kitchen in the corner lit up by a yellow light bulb. Yoongi lets go of your hand to sink on the couch, and you stay still, not quite sure what to do while Jin settles on the armchair on the opposite side.

Jin looks fairly angry, his eyebrows furrowed and his tired brown eyes shooting daggers at Yoongi. He passes a hand through his black hair, exposing his forehead. He is obviously waiting for Yoongi to explain, his plump lips pressed in a tight line when he realises his friend isn’t going to say anything.

“What the hell are you doing here and what happened to you?” is the first thing he says, concern not well hidden under the apparent annoyance in his tone. He turns his head to you and he shoots you a concerned look. “And who is she?”

Normally, you would have clapped back that she has a name and that if he wanted to know anything about you he could ask directly, but you are too shocked to say anything, still unable to register what is happening right now. He must sense what state you are in because he walks to the kitchen and offers you a drink. You accept it wordlessly, staring blankly at him and then at the glass.

“Well apparently, Wolf’s Fang did not appreciate me killing their leader and tried to kidnap me. Twice”, Yoongi replies with his usual nonchalance. You are happy to note that you are not the only one it drives crazy, judging by the look on Jin’s face.

“Wolf’s Fa- Yoongi, I told you not to approach them, they are trouble,” he says, jaws clenched in obvious annoyance as his friend shrugs. He sighs and turns to you. You can tell he is trying hard to conceal his anger, though the furiousness of his eyes betrays him. “You don’t look so good, sweetheart, you should go to the bathroom”, he tells you, pointing at a corridor. He doesn’t need to pry, you are happy to get away from the tension in the room, making your way towards said corridor.

The bathroom is small, covered in tile. You lock yourself in, slashing your face with cold water, eager for the haze surrounding your mind to leave. You might have a small concussion from your earlier acrobatic feat, along with the mild marks of road burns on the side of your head. You can still hear the argument in the living room between the two men, and you cut the flow of water to listen to the ushered voices.

“-I told you it was the worst idea you’ve ever had, I can’t believe you did it anyway”

“What was I supposed to do, Jin, let them get away with it?”

“It was twenty years ago Yoongi-”

“They killed my parents, I don’t really think there’s a ‘best before’ date on revenge.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. Just because you are used to killing people doesn’t mean you can take on everyone, Yoongi. They were too dangerous for you but you still went away and killed their leader. I told you to wait and build a team but no, you couldn’t fucking wait, could you? I shouldn’t have told you.”

“It was MY revenge Hyung-”

“That’s why you involved the girl?” Your brows furrow, and you sit on the toilet seat, eager to know what they are going to say about you. Yoongi takes a second before answering, his voice calmer and you have to strain your ears to hear him.

“No. That- That was a mistake. She found me the first time I escaped and she helped me.”

“And that’s how you repay her, by implicating her in your shit?”

“No, I- I just wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t mean for her to get caught up in this.”

“Awww, little Black Crow didn’t want her to get caught in this” Jin retorts sarcastically. “Well guess what, fucker, because of you she’s going to have to hide from one of the biggest gangs in the damn city! I don’t even care that you bring ME into this mess, but you just had to involve an innocent person. I thought you despised that.”

“I fucking hate it!”, Yoongi shouts. “But it’s too late to change anything about that, isn’t it Hyung?”

You rise from your seat, having heard enough. You don’t want them to fight because of you, and you’re afraid you’ve spent much more time in the bathroom than appropriate. Having finally regained your senses, you feel the strain your chase has on your body; your muscles ache and your feet are bloody, shards of glass and tiny pieces of gravel embedded in your skin. You tiptoe back into the living, jaw clenched from the pain, trying to avoid putting too much weight on your feet as well as bloodying the floor. They both fall quiet when you appear through the opening of the corridor, eyeing you with concern.

You can easily guess what is going on in their heads. You are still very pale, and you seem weak, eyes still a bit unfocused as you lean on the wall for support. they must wonder how much you’ve heard, and how much of a problem you are going to be to them. You are a witness and you know what Yoongi does for a living - ha, puns- and though it hasn’t crossed your mind to call the police on them, they don’t know that. Finally, you still have a gang trying to snag you, and you don’t know just how much information your kidnappers have on you. They could try to use you as bait, thinking Yoongi must be attached to you in some way.

In conclusion, this is a mess. You’ve missed both work and your interview this morning and people are bound to ask questions about your whereabouts. You’ve always been the most diligent in terms of work, never taking a day off or arriving more than 10 minutes late. You obviously don’t have your phone or your wallet on you right now, having lost everything when you were kidnapped, and trying to go back to your apartment right now, without your keys on top of that, seems fruitless.

“How are you feeling?”, Jin asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence that settled in the room.

“Still a bit light-headed. I might have a minor concussion… I think. Also I need a first aid kit, if you have one please?”

“Sure, I’ll get you that. Sit down.”

You settle on the other side of the couch as Jin exits the room from the corridor. Yoongi hasn’t said anything yet but you can see hints of concern in his eyes. Similarly to you, his already scarred cheek and his hands are bruised because of the fall from the car, though he doesn’t seem to have hit his head -which isn’t surprising since, unlike you, he was expecting the impact. He moves closer to you on the couch to take your hands in his, observing the wounds on the back of your hands.

You are slightly taken aback but don’t say anything, an unexpected blush creeping on your cheeks. He seems too focused on your hands to notice your tenseness, and you are glad. What the hell is wrong with you? It must be the concussion, making your cheeks heat up, because it certainly can’t be the way his soft hands delicately hold yours- No! What is going on in this brain of yours?

“Are your feet okay?” he asks suddenly, and you squeak in surprise as his grey eyes find yours. He doesn’t comment on your reaction, and you are happy to not receive one of his snarky remarks.

“Not really, that’s why I asked for the first aid ki- Whoa, what are you doing?!”, you shriek when he grabs your legs to prop them on the couch. He sits at the end of the couch, grimacing as he takes in the poor state of the bottom of your feet.

“There’s gravel in there, I’ll have to clean it up--”, he starts.

“No- No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll do it myself,” you interrupt, slightly panicked. To be completely honest, you don’t really trust him to do any good. The man doesn’t exactly save lives, he takes them, and he doesn’t really strike you as the healer type. You think you are saved when Jin comes back and hands you the first aid kit, one of his eyebrows raising in a silent question as he reads the anxiousness on your face. Unfortunately for you, Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind your nervousness, simply snatching the kit from your hands and putting himself to work.

Turns out you were nervous for -mostly- nothing. Yoongi actually has a steady hand, and he removes all gravel and shards of glass in an instant and rather unpainfully. He does however make the mistake of spraying antiseptic directly in your wounds, which hurts like hell. He apologizes profusely, obviously distraught by your unexpected blood curdling scream while Jin laughs freely at his startled face. As he finishes bandaging your feet and Jin brings you hotel slippers to wear for the night. They are way too big for your feet but actually quite comfortable so you accept them with a smile.

You are set to stay low in Jin’s place for the day. It would be too dangerous to leave today according to both Yoongi and Jin, and the both of them decide that you would leave during the night.

“It’s at that time that the alleys are the more crowded,” explained Jin, “the less attention you draw, the better”. That is a kind of logic you can get behind, especially since you can barely walk - let alone run if anything goes wrong.

Yoongi advises you to sleep when he notices your eyes getting droopy, and he leads you to a bedroom. You sink on the bed in exhaustion, your body suddenly refusing to carry you anymore. You feel sleep enveloping you as Yoongi starts to leave the bedroom.

“What’s going to happen after we leave?” you ask sleepily, barely keeping your eyes open. The question stops him dead in his tracks, and he turns to face you, a serious look on his face. He ponders for a little while before answering you.

“I’ll bring you to my place and we’ll find a way for you to go back to your life,” he responds, eyes earnest and you hum sleepily in acknowledgement. Satisfied with the answer, you let yourself slip into an easy sleep.

-----------------------------------------------

You wake up a few hours later, with an empty stomach but an already clearer head. It takes you a minute to remember exactly what happened to you and where you are, feeling dejected when you realise it wasn’t just a very realistic nightmare. It’s all his fault, you realize. Your life was going well before you decided to help Yoongi - well, before you were manipulated into helping him is more correct. Even if you despise your job because of your boss, you still enjoy your little routine. Working during the week to pay off your loan, writing during the weekend or enjoying your free time. Sure you were alone most of the time and you longed to meet new people, you still liked your quiet life. It was all supposed to come together today once you’d get that promotion, but no, that had to be ruined for you. One thing is certain: once all of this is over, you don’t want to ever hear from Min Yoongi again.

You decide to limp to the living room, the rumbling of your stomach prompting you to seek sustenance. Both Jin and Yoongi are in the living room, Yoongi sleeping on the couch while Jin is busy on the phone looking out the window near the kitchen. His brows are furrowed and he looks deep in thought, making you reconsider asking him for food right now. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you entering the room and sitting on the armchair, and you take advantage of this to stare at him in tranquillity.

It makes no doubt for you now that Jin is also a very dangerous man. If his earlier behaviour wasn’t particularly intimidating in any way, the man barking at the phone in front of you exudes a deadly aura. He is quite obviously trying to resolve the mess his younger friend put himself -and you- into, calling multiple people and furiously scribbling on a notepad on the counter in between calls. He seems to know exactly who to contact, calling people back to back, until he slams his phone on the table, sighing in exasperation. He takes his head in his hands and sighs again.

“Jin?” you ask tentatively, and Jin’s head snaps in your direction. His dark eyes immediately find yours, and you gulp, intimidated by his intense glare. When he realises it’s just you, his features soften and you feel yourself being able to breathe again.

“Do you have something I could eat?” you ask after he beckons you to speak with a hum. He nods, making his way to the cupboards. He rummages through them and you settle on a stool behind the counter. Jin doesn’t look satisfied as he pulls out a cup of instant ramen and he shoots you an apologetic smile. “Ramen is fine,” you assure him, feeling too hungry to fuss over the quality of the meal. It actually reminds you of your student days, living off ramen, coffee and the sheer will of escaping your parent’s house. Granted this is not how you envisioned your future, running away from a gang with your new friend Yoongi the murderer, but you longed for adventure, right?

Well it’s not like you have much of a choice anyway, you remind yourself as Jin sets the meager meal in front of you. You must pull a crestfallen grimace because Jin laughs at you and you dive in, eager to hide the embarrassment creeping on your cheeks at his windshield wiper laugh.

“Who were you calling?” you ask with a mouth full, keen to change the focus on him rather than you. He rests his elbows on the counter across from you and he tries to find his words.

“People who could help resolve the situation,” he answers simply.

“Right… ‘Resolve’” you say with a sarcastic smile. The only way to ‘resolve’ the situation, as Jin says, is surely to take out the gang altogether. It is obviously weak at the moment because of the loss of their boss, and it’s the best time to strike.

“We need to ensure your security - that is, unless you believe you can do it alone?” he retorts, raising one of his eyebrows in defiance. You scoff at his smirk.

“Of course not.” You pause. “Thank you for helping me,” you add earnestly after a second.

“Don’t thank me, thank Yoongi. He’s the one who asked me to help you. Apparently he owes you”, he says dismissively, returning to the kitchen to throw away your no empty ramen cup. You swallow with difficulty. Of course he’s only doing that because he owes you, what did you expect? Both of those men are hardened criminals, though you don’t exactly know what Jin dwelves in. It would be foolish of you to think that neither of them is protecting you out of the goodness of their hearts. They are not as naive and generous as you are, and Yoongi could easily have left you to die had you not saved him earlier.

No wait… This is because of him that you are in this mess, of course he has to fix this situation!

“Anyways,” Jin adds as he comes back to face you, “Yoongi is going to bring you to a safer location and then he - along with my team - is going to sort this mess out. And then you’ll be good to go, as if this never happened.”

He emphasizes his last words with a dark fixed gaze on you. You gulp at his sudden change of demeanor from casual to threatening. You know exactly what he means by that; You’ll have to keep quiet about what happened, or else. You nod a bit too eagerly, suddenly intimidated by him. This seems to please him however, and he smiles at you, obviously content that you understand the true meaning of his words.

You spend the next hour or so abstently watching TV from the armchair while waiting, Yoongi still happily slumbering on the couch. There isn’t much more to do than wait, and you are bored out of your wits by the time Jin decides Yoongi slept too much and hits him with a rolled up magazine to wake him up.

“What the- What was that for?!” Yoongi indignantly asks, rubbing his head, his still sleepy eyes shooting daggers at the elder.

“It’s time for you to move” is all he says before he leaves the room, not even paying attention to the string of curses Yoongi sends flying his way. You chuckle at his indignation and he shoots you a dark look, amusing you even further. He sighs before chuckling too and he rises from the couch to stretch his limbs. Jin comes back to the living room with a backpack he chucks at Yoongi. The latter catches it effortlessly before sitting back on the couch to rummage through it, taking out a gun and observing it, checking the magazine in a swift motion.

“You might need that,” Jin says, leaning back against the kitchen counter and Yoongi thanks him. You eye warrily the weapon; You can’t say you feel particularly reassured with this. You’ve never been one to like firearms, and the sole fact that you were shot at earlier today reinforces your apprehension. Yoongi seems to sense your tenseness and he hands you your kitchen knife. You look at him questioningly.

“It might be too early for you to use a gun, let’s stick with things you know for now,” he explains with a knowing smile. For now. You can see Jin’s eyebrows furrow in the corner of your eyes but you don’t comment on his choice of words, merely nodding in understanding. There’s also a pair of grey sneakers in the bag, which Yoongi throws your way. They are too big for your feet but this is the best you are going to get so you don’t complain. You are now set to leave and Yoongi beckons you to follow him through the corridor. There’s a back door that you hadn’t noticed after the door leading to the bedroom.

Yoongi reaches to open the door and stops, taking a look at you. You are opening your mouth to ask him what’s wrong when he suddenly removes his jacket to throw it around your shoulders.

“You’ll attract too much attention otherwise” he says, and he slips through the door. You follow him into the alleyways, clutching his jacket to cover you more, hiding the knife in your hands under it.

The alleys, much like Jin explained, are more crowded than when you arrived. You are significantly less scared than before, focusing on following the man in front of you instead of observing the people around you. Yoongi is leading you through the crowd, eyes scanning the mob looking for potential threats. Jin had advised you to leave separately but it just wasn’t possible for you to navigate through this maze alone, and you are grateful to be with Yoongi right now.

People don’t seem to pay much attention to either of you and you are able to reach an underground parking lot safely. Yoongi had made sure you weren’t followed before reaching for keys in the bag. He presses the button and the lights of a car a few rows from where you are flare up. Yoongi grabs your hand and leads the both of you to the black car, letting you get seated on the passenger side before unceremoniously throwing the bag on the back seat.

The car is surprisingly nice, a black Mercedes with tan leather seats. You squeak in surprise when Yoongi makes the engine roar as you are attaching your seat belt. You don’t even have the time to say anything before he slams the acceleration pedal, leaving the parking spot like a mad man. You grip the armrest in a futile attempt to feel safer, not quite at ease with Yoongi’s aggressive driving.

You can tell he is a good driver, expertly avoiding the few other cars as he speeds down the highway, but you can’t help your heart from pounding in your chest. You’ve never been this fast on the road, and the happy glimmer in Yoongi’s eyes everytime he goes faster doesn’t exactly reassure you.

The only positive aspect with him driving this fast is that you quickly arrive at the destination. You are surrounded by tall glass buildings, and you furrow your brows. This can’t be where Yoongi lives, can it? It doesn’t make sense. Yoongi parks the car in another underground parking structure, and you step out of the car with wobbly legs and a confused expression plastered on your face. You don’t even have time to ask the first of the thousands of questions swarming your mind right now before Yoongi makes his way towards an elevator.

Unlike you, he seems perfectly at ease as he waits for the elevator, even smirking at your bemused face. The ding of the elevator makes you step out of your thoughts and you start to stammer as you follow Yoongi inside. He presses the button going to the 37th level.

“You- You live here?!” you ask, incredulous as the elevator starts its ascension. He shoots you another smirk, his eyes playful.

“What, you think I kill for the sole pleasure of it? Of course not, I’m not a monster, Y/n.”

“I- I don’t--”

“Hitman is a relatively high paying job, I’ll have you know,” Yoongi explains in fake seriousness, obviously reveling on your confused state of mind. You raise one of your eyebrows in defiance at his words, eyeing him up and down as if to prove a point. He isn’t exactly dressed as someone who makes a lot of money. He scoffs at your attitude, and he crosses his arms on his chest.

“Hey! I like these clothes!” he says in indignation and you roll your eyes at him. The elevator stops and the both of you step out of it. “Anyway, nobody knows about this place so we’ll be safe here,” he says while walking to a door at the end of a corridor.

“Nobody?” you ask as he opens the door.

“Not even Jin. It’s a safe measure. I don’t know where he lives either. No one in the gang does. That way, if someone gets caught, they won’t be able to tell where the others are.”

He opens the door and enters his apartment. You take a second to look around you. His apartment is big and modern. The walls are painted white, contrasting with his dark furniture. In the back of the apartment is a huge window, providing an incredible view of the city. But the view is unable to distract you from the many questions swirling in your mind; How many people has he had to kill in order to pay for a place like this? The place you were at just earlier wasn’t Jin’s home? The gang? What is going on? Yoongi must notice your confusion -- maybe because you are still on the doorstep, staring around with a gaping mouth -- because he sighs and starts to explain further.

“We were not at Jin’s. It’s one of our safe places all over the city. There’s always at least one member there, and this time it was Jin’s shift and I knew he was going to be there,” he starts explaining.

“Wait wait- You are in a gang?!” you exclaim, eyes wide. The more you think you know about Yoongi the more lost you get. It wasn’t bad enough that he is an assassin, he’s also part of a gang?

“Would you please come in before shouting those kinds of things?” he retorts through gritted teeth, ushering you inside and closing the door. You sink down on the leather couch and stare in the void, still not quite able to process everything. You should have seen it coming if you are really honest, but it seems that you find yourself to be in an even bigger mess than you thought everytime Yoongi tries to explain himself.

“Yes, I’m in a gang. I’m an assassin. Jin is the leader’s right-hand man. More than that he is my friend,” he says, eyeing you warrily and holding his hands up in a defensive stance, as if scared you’ll explode. If anything, you should be the one to be scared, you think to yourself, especially since you can’t understand why he would say that. Perhaps it’s because you are aware of what would happen to you, would you ever try to say anything to anyone. Not that anyone would believe your story anyway, or that you would risk telling anything to anyone. You shudder when you remember Jin’s hidden warning. Yoongi lowers his hands as you seem to have calmed down and he sits across from you on a leather armchair.

“I talked with Jin about taking down Wolf’s Fang. I’ll leave tomorrow to deal with that with other members of the gang. Then you’ll go back to your life”, he explains nonchalantly. For some unknown reason, his last words set you ablaze with rage.

“What life, Yoongi? You ruined that, remember?” you spit at him harshly, rising from your seat. He looks completely taken aback by your sudden outburst. You had made sure not to let show how much you resent him for dragging you in this situation; You needed him to fix everything, and shouting at him that it’s all his fault surely wouldn’t help your plans at all. But you snap because of his nonchalant attitude. He destroyed your chances at getting your promotion, having to go no-contact. He put you at risk of getting kidnapped and then shot, even though he knew he was himself in danger.

“Aren’t you an assassin, aren’t you part of a gang? Didn’t you know you would put me in danger with you?” you shout at him, pointing at him aggressively to emphasize your words.

“I didn’t mean--” he starts, but you interrupt him. Anger is bubbling inside you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“You knew you were putting me in danger but you stayed anyway!”

“You were the one who said I could lay low at yours!” he retorts, rising from his seat. You scoff at his irrelevant argument and he immediately cringes at his poor wording.

“I didn’t know you were an assassin and a gang member! I would’ve thought twice about letting you come into my life if I knew I’d get kidnapped!” you spit, your jaw clenched in anger.

“I didn’t want this!”

“Well I sure hope so!”, you scoff, hands rising in the air in disbelief. “But what did you seriously expect, huh?” You try to chase away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Now is not the time to cry.

“I know I should’ve left you!” he starts in anger but his voice breaks and he looks away. You look at him in confusion. You are not used to seeing vulnerability in him. Granted you don’t really know him but this feels out of character for him. “I just- I didn’t want to be alone,” he says, voice pregnant with emotion. You are taken aback by his sudden openness, brows furrowed and mouth gaping in confusion. He still doesn’t look at you, and you don’t manage to say anything, too lost to be able to utter a word.

He passes a hand through his black hair and sighs loudly. The both of you are standing awkwardly, you staring at him and him making a point of avoiding your eyes. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, anything, but you are left utterly speechless. He scoffs darkly before walking towards the back of the room to a kitchen.

“Anyway, you’ll be safe tomorrow, and you’ll be able to leave.”

Yoongi exits the room and you are left alone with your thoughts.

---------------------------------------------------

You decide to sit on the floor in front of the big windows, enjoying the unending view. It must be one in the morning, and the streets are empty, apart from the odd car driving down the road every once in a while. The sight is calming, as you see the few lights still lit up in the night. Your apartment is not exactly downtown so you don’t have a view as nice as this one. Everything is so silent, so still. You know exactly why you are staring so intensely at the view, trying to chase any thought of Yoongi.

You are definitely calmer now but you don’t want to think about him, trying to bottle up any emotion deep down. You’ve never been one to have a healthy relationship with your feelings, and you are not going to start now. Most of your resentment is gone now that you finally confronted him about it, but your last exchange only left confusion. Confusion on what he was talking about, but also on why your heart squeezed so painfully when you saw him so vulnerable or when he walked away from you. You bring your knees to your chest.

In a way, you can understand where he is coming from. You let him stay and threw all care in the wind also because you were feeling lonely. Perhaps both of you were weak at that moment. Surely he should have been more careful, but you don’t blame him as much as you did before.

You hear a door open and close but you don’t move from your spot, keeping your eyes trained on the view. From the corner of your eyes, you see Yoongi sit cross legged next to you. The both of you stay in silence like that for a bit of time, watching the horizon before you decide to break the silence.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you like that,” you say softly, turning your head to look at him. His grey eyes meet yours. They are definitively warmer than before, and you feel reassured.

“Hmm. I just hope the neighbors didn’t hear you scream,” he answers with his usual snarky grin. You shoot him an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, that might be a problem in the future.”

He doesn’t look too concerned, shrugging and leaning back on his arms, stretching his legs as he takes in the view in front of him. One question still plagues your mind, and you can’t stop it from spilling from your lips.

“When you said you didn’t want to be alone earlier, what did you mean?”

He doesn’t look taken aback by your question, and he turns his head back to you, sitting up straight.

“You ever wonder where I got that from?” he says, pointing to his scar across his right side. You nod positively. “When I was six, my parents were attacked by a man and his small gang. My father was a rich accountant who refused to work for them, and the leader of the small gang took offence. One night, they raided my house, torturing and killing my mother in front of his eyes, and they planned to do the same to me.”

Yoongi pauses, staring at his trembling hands, and you regret asking him such a personal question. It is obviously a very difficult subject for him, but he resumes talking before you can say anything.

“Apparently, the neighbors heard the commotion and called the police as the leader carved a line across my eye, so he decided to kill my father and to flee. I was placed in an orphanage for boys. During that time, I met with Jin and 5 other boys. We all grew up without being adopted, and one of the other boys, Namjoon, decided that we needed revenge on life. We started partaking in some pretty illegal stuff, and our little group grew. We were seven at first, and now we are the most powerful gang” he says, a hint of pride in his voice at the last sentence.

“For more than twenty years I searched for the people that killed my parents, and Jin is the one who finally found them. It was the leader of Wolf’s Fang, a rival gang, and I decided that I waited enough for revenge. I made sure he felt tenfold the pain he inflicted my parents.”

Yoongi’s eyes are dark as the night now, contrasting with the paleness of his skin under the moonlight. An aura of dangerousness is radiating from him, and you can’t help but feel intimidated.

“But when I finally killed him I felt so empty. What was there anymore?” he adds with furrowed brows and he stares at his open hands. “I got what I wanted. I lost my edge that day. I had nothing left to fight for, or at least I was convinced of it. They found me easily, I wasn’t even trying to hide. But I remembered that they already caused my family too much pain, I wasn’t going to let them cause more. If I were to die, it wouldn’t be by their hand. So I escaped. And that’s when you found me”

He turns to face you, his eyes back to their warmth, making your cheeks heat up.

“I guess I just needed a stranger to take care of me a little,” he concludes, smiling awkwardly at you.

A comfortable silence settles between you while the two of you enjoy the view. Something seems to have lifted from Yoongi’s shoulders, he looks much more relaxed than when you entered his appartement. Maybe because he told you everything, the whole truth, and that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.

You don’t know how much time you spent in silence together, enjoying each other’s presence before you start to feel tired again. You haven’t really slept that much yesterday and all the tension from the day vanishes, leaving tiredness in its wake. A yawn escapes your lips. You don’t even know why you lean your head on his shoulder but you do, perhaps too sleepy to even realise what you are doing. Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind thankfully, and he leans his head on top of yours. You fall asleep like that, and you don’t even stir when Yoongi lifts you up to place you on his bed before joining you.

--------------------------------------------------

It’s well into the morning when you wake up. It takes you a minute before understanding where you are, your heart racing a bit when you realise you are alone in an unknown bed. Yoongi must already be gone, you realise when you walk into the empty living room. It’s already 12 am so you decide to head to the kitchen in search of something to eat. After your meal, you take a shower, taking some clothes Yoongi left for you this morning. You can’t help the blush creep on your skin as you realise he thought to leave you clothes just before leaving to take down a gang. The clothes he left are too big for you, an oversized t-shirt, a sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, but you enjoy the cozyness --and his smell on the clothes-- too much to complain.

The rest of your day is spent waiting. You start by exploring every inch of the apartment, trying to discover more of Yoongi. Unfortunately for you, you don’t find anything except one photo, hidden between two books. You found it by error, accidentally knocking a row of books on the desk. You instantly recognize two people in the photo, Yoongi and Jin. They seem much younger, barely adults. The others seem much younger, and your heart twists. These boys are too young to be in a gang... You turn the photo to inspect the back and you find an inscription.

“Birds of prey - 2013

Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook”

The seven of them are looking in defiance at the camera, as if they have something to prove. You sigh before placing back the photo.

By the time seven rolls around, you can’t help but feel a bit worried. Is it normal that he’s been gone for so long? What if something has happened to him? What are you supposed to do then? You decide against pacing, choosing to sit on the armchair across the door instead, knees to your chest as you wait for his return.

When the door finally opens, you spring from your seat. Yoongi comes in while limping but as soon as his eyes fall on you, a warm smile erupts on his bruised face. You are too preoccupied by his disheveled state to return his smile, instead coming to his side to help him walk to the couch. He stops you in your tracks with a raise of his hands.

“Don’t worry, someone already took care of me. I’m all patched up,” he reassures you, and a bit of tension eases from your shoulders. You sit on the armchair as he settles on the couch. He can tell that you are dying to know what happened, seeing as you are practically buzzing across the edge of your seat across him.

“It’s over,” he states simply at first and you let out a sigh of relief. It’s finally over? It almost doesn’t feel real, as if these past days were just a dream. “We took care of most of the members, and Namjoon ordered some of our men to make sure the rest join them soon”

“That means I can go home?” you ask excitedly. You could have sworn you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes but it left as soon as it came.

“Yes, of course,” he says, “I could drive-”

“But first, we need to celebrate our freedom,” you interrupt him with a smirk. He is surprised at first, but soon returns your smile.

“You’re right, let’s order some takeout for tonight”

You spend the evening eating and laughing. You are happy to finally see Yoongi relax completely with you, able to tell you stories about his life. You now would like to meet the rest of the boys in the photo, first and foremost to thank them since they were part of the team that took out the gang, but also because they sound funny in Yoongi’s stories. They all seem closer to a family than most of the conventional ones, and the fact that they are gang members doesn’t really scare you anymore. They are Yoongi’s friends, after all.

By the time you finish your meal and a movie, it’s ‘unfortunately’ too late for you to go home, and Yoongi advises you to stay just one night more. Seeing that you’ve done the same for him, he has to return the favor, he explained, and you happily oblige, perhaps a bit too ecstatic to be able to spend more time with him. It’s funny how fast you’ve come to trust this man and enjoy his company, even though you are aware of his profession.

This time, it’s him who falls asleep first, head leaning on your shoulder while watching a movie on the couch, and you decide to put him to bed. You chuckle at the feeling of deja vu when you lead him to the bedroom, supporting him as he limps his way to the bed. You pause for a moment after he sinks on the mattress; Where are you supposed to sleep? On the bed with him? On the couch? You are about to step out of the room when a hand catches your wrist.

“Where are you going?” he asks groggily, eyes barely open to look at you. You smile at him.

“Nowhere” you answer, and he closes his eyes back, his hands slipping from around your wrist as a reassured smile creeps across his lips.

You settle on the other side of the bed, careful to still put distance between you. You turn on your side to be able to face him. He is peaceful like that, and you smile to yourself as you brush away the stray strands of black hair covering his eyes.

The next morning passes rather quickly, mostly due to the fact that you sleep off most of it in Yoongi’s arms. After a rather flustered waking up, and an awkward breakfast, the both of you decide to get you back to your apartment. You need to swing by your office first, as you need to retrieve your spare apartment keys in your locker. If you were previously warry to go back there and face your boss, you don’t even care anymore. You’ve almost died for fuck’s sake, what can he possibly do that will scare you. If anything, he will be the one to be scared if he dares to say anything, Yoongi assured you, making you smile.

This time, he drives rather calmly and you are grateful for that. First of all because you don’t want to die in a car crash, and secondly because the longer the ride, the more time you can still spend with Yoongi. He is more silent than usual, a sullen look on his face. You can understand him, for some reason you aren’t exactly the happiest at the prospect of going back to your previous life, to your stupid job and your stupid boss, and more importantly to your empty and lonely apartment.

Maybe some of Yoongi’s nonchalance rubbed off on you, you think to yourself as you stroll inside your office building, wearing oversized sweats and followed by a scary looking man with a scar across his face. You don’t even stop to answer the questions the office bitch sends your way, shutting her up with a dark glare. You’ve never liked her, she always took credit for other’s work, so you don’t feel guilty for scaring her. You go straight to your locker, Yoongi still following behind you. You are thankful for him being with you, you are sure you wouldn’t have the same confidence without him.

You are rummaging through your locker and retrieving your things when a furious voice interrupts you.

“Y/l/n! Where were you? You’ve missed almost a week of work! It’s unacceptable-”

A week? What a joke, it’s only the third day you’ve missed. Anger starts to bubble inside you. You’ve never missed a day of work before, and this asshole makes it as though it was a regular occurrence, not an ounce of concern in his annoying voice as he shouts. You tune him out as you continue to search for your stuff, and you ignoring him only seems to infuriate him more - and you love this. You’ve suffered his abuse too much to pay anymore attention to him, and when you finally find your keys, you slam your locker door, shutting him up instantly.

You turn around to face him, reveling on the look of absolute shock written on his face. The once so soft spoken and respectful employee is so disrespectful now. You notice Yoongi glaring daggers at him, jaw clenched, and you are thankful that he doesn’t say anything. This is your moment.

“Listen asshole, I’ve had enough of your shit. So stop harassing me or I’ll make sure you won’t ever be able to open that mouth of yours again,” you spit coldly. He stammers, trying in vain to say anything. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Also, don’t even dare try to complain about me to HR or the police, I have enough proof of workplace abuse to get you fired in a second. I’ll be back to take the rest of my stuff,” you add, glancing around in the office to find every pair of eyes on you. Satisfied with your little outburst, you leave, prompting a smirking Yoongi to follow after you.

It’s only in the car that the frown on your face lifts instantly and you burst in laughter with Yoongi.

“That felt good,” you confide with a playful grin. He returns your smile, his eyes twinkling with something that looks like awe and pride. The car ride to your apartment is already more cheery, the both of you laughing at the looks on their faces when you exited dramatically. You’ve dreamed of doing that more than once, and it seems that Yoongi gave you enough confidence to stand up for yourself this time.

The realisation that it’s goodbye seems to dawn the both of you when you enter the elevator. Your heart squeezes in your chest as the elevator gets closer to your floor. This can’t be it. You have to do something. The door opens on your floor and you step out after Yoongi.

He follows you to the door and waits as you turn your key in the lock. Thoughts are swirling in your brain; Will you be able to see each other after this? Does he even want to? You turn around when the door is finally open. You don’t know what to say, and your racing mind isn’t helping you trying to figure out a way for him to stay with you. He seems nervous as well, biting his bottom lip as his eyes avoid yours.

“Thank you… For keeping me safe,” you say meekly, cheeks heating up. His smoke colored eyes meet yours.

“Of course Y/n, you saved me first,” he responds softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. He does have pretty lips. So pink, and they look so soft. You don’t even realise you are staring at them until they come closer. Wait what? You snap your eyes to Yoongi and you meet his gaze. His face stops only inches away from yours and you feel your whole face burn, and your heart beats at a thousand miles an hour. He is right there in front of you, so close that you can feel his hot breath tingling against your skin, yet he is not close enough for you.

You crash your lips against his in impatience. It feels as though you’ve been waiting for this for your whole life, feeling so right to be in his arms. The kiss is full of passion, his tongue sneaking past your lips to find yours. His hands grip on your hips to get you closer and you practically melt in his arms. Everything feels so hot, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, your hands entangled in his hair. You breathlessly pull away from his kiss to grab him closer to you, flushing his body against yours. He hastily closes the door behind you and his lips resume their assault on yours. Let’s just say that you stayed together in more ways than one that day.

------------------------

Meeting Min Yoongi was maybe the best mistake of your life. Sure, you got kidnapped and shot at, you lost your job and had to hide from a powerful gang with an assassin, but you’d do it all over again just for him.

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Thank you @minty-joonie and @wwilloww for helping me proofread!

I hope you liked it!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow!!

💜

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Undercover Lover prt 25

Eren’s plans too a slight turn for the worse. First came sweating with a fever, then nausea, then came throwing up, and finally came being transferred to hospital when his nose started pouring blood and the precinct medic started yelling for an ambulance. Ah. The joys of being handcuffed to a bed. He remembered them well from. Actually, he didn’t. He didn’t remember much about the first few days after Marco had died, it’d all been a blur, but Armin was there to tell him they had to restrain him because he hadn’t taken the news very well. Rushed into emergency, people were yelling, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t one of them as the bright lights assaulted his eyes. Ultimately he lost a day and woke up to Pixis peeling a mandarin while he worked his way through a bottle of brandy. He’d had a severe reaction to alpha suppressants, going slightly feral, his knee had been busted by an officer claiming self defence. Not that he’d been informed who they were but it could have only been one of Rod’s small time thugs trying to get one last hit in in case he shuffled off the mortal realm. Pixis rather jovial as he recounted what Eren had missed. Eren not so jovial as his right knee stung like a bitch.

Things became a real party when Hannes came by to check on his condition. Two of the best men he knew happened to both be functional alcoholics and seemed to delight in exchanging stories of his bullheadedness and opinions on brandy. With fresh officers at his door, and denied pain medication thanks to being a “druggy”, sleep offered the only relief in the whole situation. Levi was fucking going to love this. So, it was Sunday morning he appeared before the magistrate, a special favour called in by Pixis, his bail set and paid, before he was forced onto Hannes... who insisted repeatedly he needed monitoring after his reaction. Now knowing what the hell was going on, Hannes had signed a non-disclosure form, which unfortunately didn’t stop him from giving him hell the moment they’d climbed into Hannes’s blue truck. They’d taken his crutches off him, leaving him hobbling into court with his damn moon boot. Climbing into Hanne’s truck wasn’t so bad, but the idea of climbing out wasn’t appealing. All he wanted was to go home to Levi’s apartment and sleep.

“Eren, I’m talking to you”

Ugh. Red lights. He hated them. Sighing, Eren looked to Hannes tiredly. His head was throbbing, couldn’t the man take pity on him until they’d gotten home? Which reminded him, he still hadn’t contacted Levi. Great. Levi would think he was blowing him off on purpose or some shit

“You know I couldn’t tell you”

“You could have told me something”

“I didn’t exactly plan on being stabbed”

The light turned green, Eren wondering why it couldn’t have done so sooner to save his sanity from this. Maybe he should risk throwing himself out the car? Surely it couldn’t be as bad as Hannes’s “dad tone”

“That’s not the point”

“Undercover work means you don’t talk. I’ve worked my arse off for this...”

“I could have helped...”

Curse Hannes. The man more of a father to him than his own father. Grisha... He’d been there when Eren was younger... then shit happened and now he was pretty much dead to his father... but that was metaphorically. Getting caught in this mess could literally cost Hannes his life

“I didn’t want you to know. Rod is bad news. Between illegal fighting, money laundering, and drug shipments, the last thing I needed was him coming after you. I’ll bet he’s already got someone tracking you down. Going home won’t be safe”

Hannes raised an eyebrow

“That bad?”

“I honestly don’t know why I’ve been released with a clear threat to my life. This is exactly why I didn’t want to get any closer to Levi”

He wanted to see Levi. The second time he’d woken, he’d looked to the side of his bed, thinking Levi would be there. That he wasn’t... it sent Eren’s mind to all the possible dark places

“I don’t think that’s possible. You’re lucky Pixis and Shadis covered for you. The documentation’s been edited...”

“Too late. By now Rod will know I’m an omega of some sort...”

“Then there’s no way you can possibly go back there”

“What am I supposed to do then? Pixis asked me to dig into a certain associate of Rod’s that’s being released...”

“You could ask Levi”

“No”

Absolutely not. No. He wasn’t getting Levi involved. He needed to extract him, yet Levi wasn’t the kind of man to follow anyone he didn’t know in an act of blind faith

“Eren, I think he...”

“I’m not costing him his life! His apartment won’t be safe anymore, and I don’t know if he’s even going to make it home in one piece! Where the hell are we going?”

“Pixis set you up with an alternative place to stay”

“Please tell me we’re not staying at yours”

“Then I won’t”

“Hannes!”

“You need monitoring. A huge dose of alpha suppressants entered your system. There may be more side effects”

“Shouldn’t it be out my system by now?”

“Your system is confused at the best of times. I’ve got the spare room set up, and Levi is welcome to stay”

How could Hannes smile? How could he let Eren into his home knowing he might just get killed for his generosity?!

“How is that not getting you involved?! How do you not get how dangerous this is?”

“And you’re like a son to me. Of course I’m going to be there. I couldn’t be there for your mother, so at least let me be there for you”

Fuck... Hannes... He made it hard to look him in the face when it came to the serious stuff

“That wasn’t you fault”

“I was in the ER at the time...”

He didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want to go anywhere except maybe to Eldia in Marley to see Levi

“She was already sick, just no one knew it... okay. It’s not your fault and you don’t have to act like you have some big debt. You don’t. I can’t contact Levi, I don’t know where my phone ended up, but he’s back Monday”

“Then I’ll take you to see him after work. Try to tolerate this old man until then”

Eren wasn’t sure if “tolerate” was the right word for the situation. Hannes’s wife had died due to complications from pneumonia years ago now, and the man embraced a kind of eclectic messiness where he knew where things were and no one else did. Finally medicated, Eren spent most of what was left of the Sunday in bed, a good thing too as Hannes woke him the following morning having decided he should come with him to the clinic where he could keep an eye on him.

Begrudgingly, Eren went. Pixis having gifted Hannes money to buy him something to wear might have been the highlight of damn day. They’d stopped into the local mall before work, Eren grabbing the first shirt and pair jeans that fitted, then remember he needed underwear and fresh socks, Hannes grabbing junk food as he said he needed the sugar to concentrate on the day ahead. Everything being scentless should have made him happy, he had the chance at a semi-fresh start seeing he couldn’t go back to work in a moonboot and Rod probably didn’t want him there... Sniffing his old clothes as he bagged them, they stank of him and his changing pheromones. Unexpected tears welling up in his eyes as the feeling of loneliness struck him out of nowhere. He missed Levi’s scent and now he was crying in the public toilets, missing a man who’d probably got the complete wrong idea about why he hadn’t contacted him. If Levi were there, he’d use some sentence with far too many “shits” in it to describe both the location and him being a brat... Fuck. He just wanted to see him again.

Unable to perk back up, Eren spent the day in a flunk. Using Hannes’s second consulting room, he had nothing to do but sleep and play around on the internet, but there were only so many cat videos a man could watch before boredom set in and both options became boring. His boredom had him almost calling work to see if Rod had returned, though the person he really wanted to call was Levi, who’s number was stuck in his flat phone. He’d offered to pick up lunch for Hannes, but Hannes firmly shut him down over wandering around while unstable. Even if he couldn’t smell himself, Hannes assured him he was steadily releasing a distressed scent that could be picked up on by the wrong kind of alpha. Eren didn’t know what Hannes expected to happen. If anyone made a pass at him, he’d ignore them, and if he couldn’t, he had two very handy weapons to get his point across. This was worse than being in prison. With nothing better to do, he took a page out of Levi’s book, starting to clean up the examination room before Hannes came to tell him he was being too noisy. He couldn’t help it. Sitting still was not his forte.

The hours between 8:30 am and 5:30 pm dragged on. The last hour the worst as anxiety gnawed at Eren’s stomach and he worried his lip until it bled. Everytime he glanced at the clock it seemed to mock him by having moved a minute or two at the time. Levi had to be home by now. He’d have gotten home and seen Eren wasn’t there. He would have been cranky “the brat” had disobeyed him... or maybe he was relieved to come home and find the man who’d thrown his life into chaos gone. Having someone to care about was hard enough, let alone the extra worry given it was his mate who’d spent the past few days surrounded by god only knows what. What if Levi had found someone better in their time apart? What if he’d slept with someone? They weren’t exactly dating, so Eren didn’t have the right to be mad if he did... even if Levi said he didn’t sleep around, alcohol seemed to lower the man’s defences... and hell, Levi was so good in bed... just thinking about Levi like that was enough to make him slick, then whimper at the idea of someone else being beneath his alpha. Fucking anxiety fucking sucked...

Hannes accompanied Eren to Levi’s apartment. They kind of had a ready made cover story seeing Eren’s knee was currently stuffed and it kind of was work related. Knocking on the alpha’s door, Eren’s heart was hammering in his chest. He didn’t want Levi to start yelling, though he may just deserve it. He also feared seeing the alpha hurt seeing Levi was terrible at taking care of his own injuries after a fight.

Knocking again, Levi kept him waiting... Eren finding himself nearly in tears again. Knocking for a third time finally summoned the alpha from the depths of his apartment

“Fuck off, Hanji! I’m not in the fucking mood!”

Hearing Levi’s voice made Eren’s heart give a weird beat. For a moment the omega thought he’d be left out on in the hallway, until the door finally cracked open, Eren immediately stumbling forward to throw his arms around Levi, not entirely sure why, only that he wanted to hug him because he’d come home safely.

“What the shit?”

He’d take it. Forcing himself off Levi, Eren tried to smile. The short alpha wearing a very grumpy expression as he crossed his arms and scowled up at him. Not that he’d admit it, yet Levi seemed shorter than he remembered him being

“I’m so sorry. I had an accident and my phone’s been flat so I couldn’t let you know”

Levi’s gaze travelled downwards, narrowing as his gaze came to Eren’s knee

“What the fuck happened?!”

“Twisted my knee. I’ve been at Hannes’s, but it’s nothing really”

“Tch. Do you know how worried I was?”

Eren melted. He wanted to sweep Levi back into his arms, but the alpha had only just showered by the look of him

“I’m really sorry. Hannes has been monitoring me to make sure I don’t have a reaction to the medication... Can we come in?”

“It’s your fucking apartment too”

Thank god Levi was acting like himself. Sure, he was kind of sad the alpha hadn’t immediately let them in, but he’d come back from being with Rod unscathed

“Right... it’s really good to see you”

“Tch. Quit being emotional, it’s only been a few days. Come on in already, before you disturb the neighbours”

Limping his way into the apartment, Hannes followed as Eren made his way over to the sofa. Everywhere filled with Levi’s scent that washed over him like a welcome breeze on a hot day. In the kitchen, Levi immediately went to making tea, Eren smiling at the very Levi action

“How the shit did he manage to get into trouble the moment I left town?”

Eren pouted a little. He hadn’t meant for anything that’d happened to go down

“I...”

“I’m not asking you, I’m asking Hannes”

Hannes sighed, shooting Eren a glance that Eren failed to read

“He got arrested for possession. That’s how he busted his knee. They gave him alpha suppressants, so I’ve had him with me so I can monitor his condition”

Hannes was a dirty rotten traitor. Sure, he might have to explain to Levi what’d happened before the alpha went back to work, but couldn’t Hannes just let him have this?

“Shit!”

Dropping the tea canister, Levi stood there with tea leaves across the kitchen bench. Normally he’d be rushing to clean up the mess, but instead his eyes were firmly on Eren

“I... it’s not so bad. I’m on bail... at least they didn’t throw me back into holding until I see the magistrate”

“You fucking got arrested?!”

“At the garage. I guess I’m fired now”

Leaning against the bench, Levi pushed himself back as he dropped his head

“It was Rod, wasn’t it?”

Fuck. Levi getting into with Rod was the last thing they needed

“Probably... Look, it’s okay. The job there was only going to be temporary...”

Raising his head, Levi showed a rare fit of anger as he kicked the counter door

“Fuck the job. Hannes, will he be okay?”

“He had a pretty bad reaction, but the drugs seem to be out his system now. Given it was a high dose, I’d like him to stay with me for now”

Couldn’t Hannes ease him into all of this? Eren had no idea how he was going to ask Levi to come with them, but throwing everything at him wasn’t the right way to do things

“Hannes!”

“Don’t give me that. You know that I also want Levi to stay for the time being to make sure your hormones settle”

There should really be an age limit for sass. Eren had the sneaking suspicion that it being past “scotch o’clock” was making the doctor cranky. Shit, he was starting to blush simply looking at Levi. Stupid earlier thoughts coming to mind as Levi made him blush harder by asking

“Couldn’t he remain here?”

Hannes shook his head

“I’d like him where I have access to him immediately if something happens. He’s been given the wrong suppressants previously, yet that wasn’t during presentation. I’d also like to keep him in an environment without scent cancellers and monitor his changes”

Eren huffed. He was 27 not 7, or 17. Shouldn’t he have some say?

“I’m not a pet. And I would prefer to stay here”

“Brat, Hannes knows more about this than we do. If he says it’s necessary, then you should stay with him”

“But I want to stay with you!”

Oh. Fuck. Now he’d done it. Raising his voice, both sets of eyes were on him as he died a little internally. His selfishness talking, as he personally wanted to stay by Levi’s side and not just for Levi’s protection. Surprisingly Levi chuckled at his outburst, unsurprisingly, it brought tears to Eren’s eyes as his face burned. Shitty stupid dynamics... He was going to blame them until hell froze over. Hannes placed his hand on Eren’s leg, his tone softening

“Eren...”

“Forget it. I’m going to pack”

“We’re not done talking about this. I’m not...”

Nope. He’d embarrassed himself... again. Why did he have to keep making a total fool out of himself when Levi was in the room? Levi was never going to believe he was a Detective with the Paradis Narcotics Division even if Eren looked him dead in the eyes and told him the goddamn truth about why he was really in Shinganshima. He used to have underlinings. He used to handle cases. He used to handle goddamn briefings and even guest lectured once when meth was in its infancy stage on the island

“It’s alright, Hannes. I fucking get it”

Storming out the room, with his crutches and damn moon boot, his mood hardly conveyed how angry he was at himself. Keeping himself from slamming the bedroom door behind him, he felt all of 17 again. Levi’s scent seemed to follow him in. Sadness hung in the room, and the omega supposed he deserved that much as he sank onto the edge of what had been his bed.

How was he supposed to sort things out with Levi within two weeks?

Three months... they’d been in each other’s orbit for three months. How did explain things to Levi and not make it sound as if he’d spend three months playing the man? Hannes was his friend from his past. Levi had to place a heck of a lot trust in the beta not to be lying to him about the situation. Had Eren been in Levi’s shoes, he could easily see how the results had been faked to keep him close. But he liked him... as a person. He’d liked him before his body started reacting. The crass frankness so damn refreshing after so many lies and the creation of his carefully constructed facade. Now he was sitting in the room Levi had been kind enough to loan him... crying because he couldn’t have things his own way.

Levi came after him. Letting himself into the space, Eren’s face was buried in his hands. Men weren’t meant to fall apart and cry like this. That’s what pretty much every piece of media out there said. His mother used to tease him for showing his emotions, until one day his tears seemed to just dry up

“You okay, brat?”

“I think I’m in the middle of a mental breakdown or a tantrum. I can’t quite decide”

Sighing at him, Levi dropped himself down to sit next to him. Eren resisting the urge to lean into the warmth he knew he’d find in Levi

“Tch. It sounds to me like you’ve had a pretty shitty last few days”

“No where near as shitty as yours, I’m sure”

Being with Rod that long, Eren would have snapped and he knew it. Work was one thing, playing nice and being up close another thing entirely

“It’s over. That’s the main thing”

“Us or Rod?”

“Tch. You really do like to leap to the worst fucking conclusions”

That wasn’t an answer

“I’m sorry”

“Stop it. Now, talk to me. What happened with the medication?”

Telling Levi felt like crying wolf. It was done. No body had the ability to go back in time and change things, nor could they see the future. Mumbling, he wiped at his eyes

“You know the police use emergency suppressants when arresting someone considered violent...”

“Tch. For fuck’s sake. Have you had...”

“I haven’t had symptoms... I thought I was, but it was a bad reaction... You must have thought I was ignoring you”

Levi took a moment to reply. The alpha a master at stomach dropping pauses

“I did. I wasn’t too impressed to find you’d left”

Fuck. Levi’s tone didn’t hold any accusations, only a kind of melancholy that smacked Eren like a guilt train t the face

“I was going to, but... shit. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing... again”

“Sitting on your shitty bed having a cry?”

“There’s that. I kept wondering how you were and if Rod was using this chance to dispose of you now that he’d gotten rid of me”

“With the amount of money I made that fat fuck, his little pecker has never been harder”

Things couldn’t get much worse. Letting himself lean against Levi, Levi didn’t push him away. Eren indulging himself a little more as he kissed the alpha’s shoulder

“I’m... I don’t know why I did that... I’m... I’m really glad you’re safe”

And he sincerely meant that. Levi going missing in Marley would have been so easy to cover up and explain

“Don’t go getting too soft on me, brat. From what I hear, we’re both in the shit”

“I don’t know when I’m going before court. Hannes spoke on my behalf. The cops probably know I’m a shitty beta-omega”

“Rod probably knows too”

“Yeah. Fuck... I keep bringing shit to your doorstep”

“Hannes might be shitty, but he’s not shit. You shouldn’t talk about your friends like that”

Fucking Levi. Despite his low mood, Levi had him snorting with laughter

“This coming from the man who calls his best friends “Eyebrows” and “Shitty Foureyes””

Levi bumped him with his elbow, Eren nearly delirious at all the attention he was getting... really, his face couldn’t possibly feel any warmer at this stage. It had to be the onset of a fever or something

“I know what I’m talking about. Look. Hannes’s place is probably safer than here right now”

“I know that. But I didn’t want him involved like this. I can’t help but feel once Rod learns I’ve walked, shit is going to hit the fan. I don’t want you caught in it”

“Tch. You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle myself”

“I know. Blame the hormones... I’m sorry. I’m not going to make you leave your home for me. I’ll stay with Hannes like a good little omega”

Once again Levi hit him with another of those long pauses. The alpha turning his face away from him

“I’m not good at this shit... I don’t know why, but... I didn’t like you not being here when I got home. It just... shit... I’m not saying this shit right. Fucking hell”

Okay... That sounded suspiciously like caring

“You missed me?”

“Tch. Don’t get too full of yourself... but maybe something like that. Look. I don’t want to stay at Hannes’s but the bigger problem is if you get sick again. So... maybe... for a couple of fucking days, it wouldn’t be so fucking bad”

He didn’t want Levi walking into Hannes’s without being prepared

“His house is a mess and the bathroom has something growing in the corner of the shower. Kind of fucked my knee up so not really able to get that low to the ground”

Growling, the alpha pulled away. Levi running his finger through his short black hair, Eren swallowing hard at the casual kind of sexiness oozing off the alpha. Shit... Maybe he wasn’t just hot...

“Of course it fucking does. I don’t know what an alpha does. I didn’t know if I should go get you. Or if you’d been hurt. Or if you’d fucked off back to your apartment thinking you shouldn’t be here...I didn’t know if you were dead somewhere... Fuck, brat... just shut up and accept some fucking help for once”

Please for the love all things sacred don’t let Levi notice he was starting to slick. Or that the alpha’s scent was starting to change to something way too tempting. Swallowing nervously, Eren forced himself off the bed. Accepting help... It made him feel infinitely worse about the coming two weeks

“If you’re coming, you should probably pack”

“I’m already packed. I haven’t unpacked”

“Then... pack some more... I don’t know”

“Eren...”

“I’m not good at this help thing... and things have all gone to shit. Can I have a few moments alone?”

Levi sighed at him

“Alright. I’m a bit reluctant though. I wouldn’t be surprised if you tripped and attacked the furniture in your state”

“In my defence, I didn’t ask for a fucked knee”

“No. I’m not impressed by that at all”

How Eren wanted to confess then have Levi fix things, but he was in far too deep. Four days he’d been mostly okay, 5 minutes with Levi and he was back to being a mess

“That’s what happens when you put someone with my past in with a bunch of cops. I’m grateful I didn’t end up in a ditch. You should probably pack your work things... and the bed isn’t really the greatest. We’re staying in Phillip’s room and it hasn’t changed since he moved out to go to college”

“What size is the bed?”

Eren blinked, the realised it was a valid question seeing he’d practically insinuated they’d be sleeping in it together

“Queen. Thankfully”

“I’ll pack my own bedding. I don’t want to think about the amount of spoof lingering on those sheets”

“They’ve been washed...”

“I’m sure they have been. Fine. Pack your stuff. But you better call out if you need help”

Both of them knew he wouldn’t, still, Eren forced a strained smile as he answered. If living with Hannes failed to scare Levi away, then maybe nothing ever would?

“Yeah. Will do”

#undercover lover #undercoverlover #ashratherose #aot #snk #omegaverse

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