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acollectionofficsandshit · 3 years

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Chapter 2: Three of Us

Max Verstappen x Reader (Single Dad AU)

Chapter 1

Chapters: 2/?

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 9,726 Words

Masterlist

I’d like to thank @lightsovermonaco for being my beta and for more importantly keeping me sane because without her influence it’s anyone’s guess where I’d be. I also owe @sassybatflowerpaper an enormous thank you, not only for being my friend but because this story, at it’s very core, is our love child.

Saturday, September 1st, 2018- Monza, Italy

Italian Grand Prix, the Autodromo Nazionale di Monza

Max had never been great when it came to emotions, and he was more than well aware that amongst the vast majority of people in his life, and regardless of whether he knew them professionally or personally, whether they were friends or family, or they were coworkers or fans, there existed a general and widely held consensus about his degree of proficiency at emotional intelligence.

Most wouldn’t even go so far as to categorize him as anything beyond just barely qualifying at be considered mediocre at best with his emotions, with his feelings, with remembering to read the room and to react strategically to what he’d learned, rather than simply relying upon blind, incendiary impulse alone to guide him.

As far he was concerned, the fact that he could admit to that, that he could grudgingly bring himself to acknowledge his substantial lack of emotional wherewithal and permit himself to operate under the basis of that crucial understanding, was the most crucial component of all.

Life had been easier since he’d finally brought himself to cop to that particular shortcoming, and not just because now that he’d accepted that he had a problem in the first place he’d been more amenable to accepting help from others, something which had made a world of difference when it came to press briefings and interviews, but most significantly, it especially mattered because it meant that his father had been wrong.

Jos had been incorrect in his absolute certainty that to do as much would be tantamount to waving a white flag, surrendering himself to the judgement of others, and he’d be infinitely far from the truth because Max had conceded to the assertion that he was indeed bad at being personable, had admitted he needed assistance and still, no one thought less of him for it.

Not that any of this was really at the forefront of Max’s mind when he clambered out of the car, feeling slightly drunk off of the adrenaline high he’d built up to and pushed aside for the duration of qualifying, and had only allowed the full force of the rush to hit him now, when the clock had run out and his boots were firmly planted on the cool, concrete floor of the Red Bull garage, relishing the way his blood seemed to be singing with the surplus of anticipatory excitement he always had left over after any time spent out on the track.

Since, as roughly three and a half seasons in Formula 1 could attest to, his body and its chemical response both couldn’t have cared less where he’d finished on the grid, because as far as it was concerned, as long as he was in the car, that was all that really meant a thing.

Because to say that Max wasn’t overjoyed with where he’d ended Q3, finishing in 5th place and falling just outside of the 1:19 threshold that had booked out the first two rows of the starting lineup, would be more than bordering on a falsehood, and yet it still didn’t mean quite as much to him as he knew it would to Jos.

There was no part of Max that doubted, even for a moment, that his father was waiting impatiently for a chance to pull him aside, lurking off in a far corner, lost amongst the crowd of mechanics and engineers, and already overly eager to tell him the nitty gritty details of every single thing he’d done wrong today, of every mistake he’d made, all but dying to remind his son that in spite of whatever Christian or GP might have to say, and whatever Helmut or Daniel might have to contribute, Max still hadn’t have done well enough today to be permitted to do something so foolish, so simple, so inconsequential as to be proud of what he’d accomplished.

And yet, even as he pulled off his helmet, his balaclava following it in quick succession, and began to peel off his gloves as the world rushed back in, Max couldn’t help but to take note of the fact that he felt good right now, that he was content with himself and what he’d managed to do today, but still no less ready for tomorrow, already setting his sights on the race and, critically, on everything he needed, or wanted, to go over with the team before lights out.

But then he made the grave misstep of looking up and suddenly, without any preamble or so much as a hint of a prelude, Max found the entirety of his attention abandon him without a trace of forewarning, his gaze resolutely locked in on the strange sight of you, of all people, without a phone in hand or pressed to one ear, and instead holding a child.

The little girl was balanced on your hip, an arm curled protectively around her middle with one hand cupped at the back of her head and her face buried in the crook of your neck, her tiny body neatly cocooned in what appeared to be an adult sized Red Bull jacket in such a way that all he could discern about the young interloper was her pale blonde hair and how tightly she was clinging to you.

The oversized coat, which Max thought looked suspiciously like the rain jacket he’d donned this morning when he’d woken to light rain showers and fractured, heavy clouds hovering in the above sky above Monza, and then had promptly shed and discarded at random when the overcast weather had given way to weak sunlight and an irregular smattering of clouds.

He had half a mind to go over there right now and start making demands to know where you’d found his jacket and how it had ended up being used by the unidentified child but, at present, Max was more interested in trying to glean as much information as he possibly could about the current situation and the role the two of you play in it, before he made any attempts to cross the garage and start asking questions.

A moment later, Max discarded all his previous surreptitiousness, leaving all prior inclination to wait and see exactly where it belonged, behind him in the dust, without the merit of any genuine concern on his part, and instead, just opened his mouth and said the first thing that came out.

“Where the hell did you get a child?” Max only has a second or two to think belatedly that he probably should have left the expletive out of his question, considering there was a kid present, and he had just hollered the question across the bustling garage, not that anyone here would normally have cared but still, optics and all, before three things happen at the exact same time.

Though it all coincided in the same stretch of time, there was no getting around the fact that, by however small a margin, your reaction and your reply beat out the others for first place. Max was only capable of noting this minor discretion in timing because out of yourself, his father and his team principal, he couldn’t realistically deny that he’d only really been paying attention to you, and on his better days, he could bring himself to divulge the whole truth, no holds barred, that in reality, as far he was concerned, you and the little girl were the only people in the entire space.

But now was not one of those days. In fact, today was on a direct course to be one of his more erratic days.

“Funny, I asked your dad the same thing,” you called back to him, shielding the kid’s ear not pressed tightly to your shoulder with the hand that had been cradled at the base of her little blonde pigtailed head.

You and Max might not still be close like you once were, hell, you weren’t even friends anymore, let alone what you’d once been, what he’d thought you two might be or on the way to becoming- not that any of it still means shit, he reminds himself- but, if nothing else, he hadn’t forgotten how to read you.

He could tell, without any difficulty, that you were holding back laughter as you replied, and you were doing a damn sight better of a job at suppressing the mirth than you were at smothering the grin that was now slipping through your defenses, the corners of your mouth twitching with the urge to curl upwards and out.

Then, before he had any proper chance to capitalize on the abrupt change in your demeanor towards him, to process that for the first time in over a year you’d given him so much as a hint of a smile, comes a sudden maelstrom of emotions crashing down over Max’s head, threatening to smother him where he stands, before half a beat later, two voices, one from either side, evidently decide that now would be the perfect time to take their own crack at taking him out at the knees.

The emotion cresting high in Max’s chest is not one he recognizes, it feels unfamiliar and foreign, feeling so out of place and turned around that it nearly steals the breath out of his lungs to take even the weakest swing at trying to understand it. It’s too much, the abrupt dawning of jealousy, that raises its ugly maw and roars for recognition, that demands he divest what little attention he hasn’t squander on you and that child to it, that insists in no uncertain terms that he turn a blind eye and lend a deaf ear to whatever the fuck it is that his father and Christian are all but shouting over each other to tell him.

Max tries in vain to ignore the rising level of commotion, of outright chaos that consumes his thoughts as all hell seems to break loose within the confines of his skull, putting up a valiant effort to suppress the sudden, unbidden questions now clawing at the inside of his head, like they’re determined to find a way out of his mind and they’re more than willing to go through him, to fight their way out, if he continues to stubbornly stand by the decision to keep them imprisoned exactly where they are.

It’s a fucking mess, the unanticipated provocation to concern himself with sorting through the wreckage to piece together the exact reason why what had only just been a level of jealousy he’d thought unbearable and was only now discovering had been manageable, was now dead set on consuming him whole, as a voice from the furthest, darkest, deepest depths of his brain began to whisper to him, asking unprompted, unwanted, unsound questions he had no business dealing with right now.

He’d meant it when he’d said he was mediocre at best with feelings, he was complete and utter shit at sorting through the cluttered, debris strewn monstrosity that makes up the scope and reach of his emotions, and yet, in flagrant disregard for every single word to the wise or word of warning, that little voice in Max’s head just kept on talking.

Don’t lie to me, I know how you work, how you think… I know at first you were only surprised, taken aback to see her with that child in her arms but now, after such a touching tableau has had time to soak in, to trickle in through the cracks of that rough exterior, you’re just jealous.

Admit it, Max, you’re fucking filthy with it, with the jealousy and envy and the regret… and to think, it’s all because you wish, because you know, that if you hadn’t fucked things up that royally then maybe, just maybe, that baby in her arms, would be yours and hers… and then you'd finally have something you could call 'ours' like you've always wanted.

No, absolutely fucking not. Not today, not tomorrow, not a million years would he ever want- no. To say Max had no clue, not in the slightest of how in the hell he was supposed to go about with thoughts like echoing around inside his head, thoughts that didn’t even feel like his own, that only sounded like his because that was undeniably his voice speaking-

But it didn’t matter, it was inconsequential in the scope of things because he didn’t feel like that, so it wasn’t a problem at all, Max reminded himself, this was just some random, isolated event that meant nothing and had no merit, sharply dismissing any dissent like he could somehow delude himself into genuinely believing that this entire train of thought had been nothing more than the result of dehydration and an adrenaline rush, working in close quarters with exhaustion.

If nothing else, at least he knew that he could never, would never, feel anything like that about you, you, of all people after everything that had happened, after what you had said and what he had done, when there had been that look on your face, an expression of agony that ran bone deep, the pain tainted at the edges by what felt like the inevitable end of things.

So, Max had been left with nothing to keep him company but the unquestionable certainty that for whatever your friendship had or hadn’t been, or what it could have been or might have become, it all was done now. He had accepted the hand he’d been dealt, had shoved every last shredded scrap of himself he collected as far down into the abyss that cracked open somewhere in his chest as possible, all with the intent for none of it to ever see the light of day again.

Yet, he’d never smothered anything as quickly as he chokes out every idea, every passing thought, every sentimentality whispered to him by that little voice in his head, and without any sense of ceremony, buries the embers of what remains as far back into the shadowy, dark recesses of his mind as possible, trying desperately not to let himself get any further along down the path to figuring what the fuck all that had been about.

It all seemed to converge in on him at once, crumbling inward into nothingness and leaving Max feeling remarkably exposed, he's dragged himself forcibly out of his head and back into the moment that surrounds him, encompassing him on all sides with an abrupt overload of jarring sound, the racket of the crowds outside the pit lane and the ones inside the bay of garages crashing over him, accompanied by a jumbled mess of colors and movement, that left him feeling a little out of depth.

Still, Max was at least comforted to find that, once he had readjusted to the current setting and tore his gaze away from it, he’d been staring blankly in your direction, the world and the people in it that had been standing nearest to him when he’d retreated into his thoughts, yourself, Jos and Horner included, were all still roughly in the same place they’d been when he’d left them.

“He’s not listening,” you say, somehow managing to keep your voice at a reasonable volume and still be heard over the ongoing barrage of shouting Jos and Christian were contributing. “Let’s try inside voices maybe?”

Max nearly forgets himself and as a result just barely stifles the bark of laughter the suggestion invokes in him, the warning usually reserved for the likes of school children and not Formula 1 team principals or men like his father. While he can deprive himself of a good laugh, which he can’t seem to shake the gut feeling that there won’t be another opportunity for one for quite some time after this, he can’t keep himself from meeting your eyes, which glimmer with the same amusement he knows must be reflected in his own.

“She’s right but I am now. What the hell-”

You jerk your head down at the little girl, reminding him to speak appropriately and giving him a glare that made it abundantly clear that while you’d excused his first slip up, he’d end up regretting making another one. He tosses you a sheepish grin, knowing that once upon a time, that grin had been his best defense when it came to staying out of trouble with you and keeping him in your good graces, but he doesn’t bother to watch long enough to see if the expression had helped, just as afraid of what he might see there as he was of what he might not see there.

“I mean, what is all this about?” Both men cut out mid-sentence in favor of just staring at him, mouths gaping open and silent like the wind has just suddenly gone out of their sails. It’s a strange reaction in all honesty, and a quite off putting one at that, because Max cannot, for the life of him, figure out what could have possibly happened to instigate the present situation.

“Why don’t we try one at a time,” Daniel appears beside him, evidently intent on playing the voice of reason, and Max nearly sags with relief, already impossibly grateful for his teammate’s presence, who has had his fair share of practice at being the buffer between Max himself and countless others in the past, a role that he can’t understand the elder’s man’s willingness to fill, but that he can’t quite bring himself to live without now. “Let’s not overwhelm anyone, I’m sure we can figure all this out without breaking Max’s brain in the process.”

“This really has nothing to do with you, you know,” Jos immediately snaps at Daniel, his face clouded with agitation, eyes narrowed to unapproving, cruel shards of black, his pupils consuming all color around them and giving him an eerie, inhuman appearance. It sends a shiver of chilled foreboding down Max’s spine, a physical response to an expression he’s seen and barely survived a hundred times. “You’re free to leave, and you can take your unsolicited advice with you when you go.”

“Jos, sir,” Daniel manages to squeeze every ounce of his distaste for Max’s father into the honorific that it sounds derogatory, so thoroughly saturated with two seasons worth of ire and disgust that the word seems to have a new, considerable weight to it. “Can’t say I’m surprised I’m having to explain this to you again, but I’ve never set much store by anything you have ever had to say so there’s not much point starting now. Do you know why?”

It’s crystal clear to anyone stood in the little misshapen circle of people that has taken form as the minutes have trickled by since the end of qualifying and Max had extricated himself from the car, and, no doubt, to any of those that lurked at the outskirts of it, that Daniel was not asking Jos the question out of any genuine desire to hear his answer.

There was no question in Max’s mind that something had happened whilst he’d been on the track, that much he was certain about, but what exactly that had been was anyone’s guess. He didn’t bother himself with trying to figure out the details on his own because he already knew that would be an exercise in futility, what when what he could suss out from context clues and body language would be useless when inevitably things went to shit.

Which, even by the most conservative of estimates, would be just about any second now, if the palpable and nearly tangible tension that hovered in the air between the four of you was anything to go by. Whatever it was that had gone down prior to his arrival at the scene had already been more than sufficient because Daniel hadn’t hesitated, he hadn’t even considered alternative measures, and he certainly hadn’t even contemplated with an intent to show restraint- he’d just fucking gone for it.

He himself didn’t trust his father entirely to yield to the expectations of polite conversational guidelines by letting the rhetorical question go unanswered, knowing that deference, of any variety, had never been his strong suit. But, because the world seemed dead set on maintaining the day’s general theme of doing anything and everything possible to confuse Max, his father didn’t make a further ass of himself by responding, instead merely constraining himself to a non-committal jerk of his head and grunting quietly.

“It’s because Jos, after nearly two seasons of knowing you, I have yet to hear a single thing of any fucking worth come out of your mouth and I can’t imagine why that should change now,” the damning assessment is met by a smattering of laughter, by snorts of approval and mumbled agreeance with Daniel’s sentiment, the sources shielded from his father’s wrath by the anonymity uniquely provided to them by the overcrowded, hectic nature of the garage at present.

The hush that dropped over the scene was almost a tangible thing, settling over the space like a thick, opaque layer that Max wouldn’t have been surprised to find he could cut clean through it and come away with a healthy slice of taken aback, utterly startled delight.

Unable to help himself, Max severs the staring contest he’d been having with toe box of his racing shoes, which had suddenly become a significant interest for him in the last few moments, and takes a carefully executed glance in your direction, his head now raised, and his face turned towards the gap of neutral space created by the degree of separation between Horner and Jos.

Max doesn’t know what exactly he’d been expecting to find when he looked at you, his eyes just barely trained on your features, but his mind had supplied him with a handful of possibilities,

“If anyone wants to know what’s wrong with this sport in the current day and age, and where things went wrong, they don’t have to work particularly hard to find an answer. They don’t need to look particularly hard either, not when you make yourself fucking impossible to escape,” Jos is stony faced, the flames of his fury burning so hot that they’d turned the corner and gone cold.

From personal experience, Max knows that this is when his father is at his worst, when he’s his most unpredictable and volatile, fully capable of wracking the kind of damage that has you dreaming of trading his particular brand of white hot torture for being bound to the dry kindling of a pyre and burned at the stake, if only because the flames turn you to ash because it’s their nature while Jos does it just because he can.

“I don’t know why I’m even wasting my time on the likes of you, not after that fucking pitiful scene you made earlier,” his father’s voice shakes slightly as he speaks, the flow of his words made irregular by the just barely audible current of cold, cruel amusement that runs underneath them.

It’s almost as if the syllables are being played over an old Hollywood style laugh track, one where the laughter feels forced and hollow, like all warmth and sincerity has been sapped away over the years, the once ample wealth of contagious laughter squandered away with it, until all that’s left behind is a haunting phantasmagoria, where a shadow of an audience, like a collective of ghostly apparitions and phantom figures float, is held eternally captive, their souls doomed to spend their time in memoriam trapped here, their laughter heard by the living.

Jos looks at Daniel like he’s the filth on the bottom of his best shoes, like the patent ones Max had accidentally tread on when he was five or six, during the reception of some wedding or another, the details of which he couldn’t quite remember because between the dancing and music, the thickly frosted cake and the excitement of getting to stay up past his bedtime, of doing something that wasn’t just school or racing, it had all merely paled in comparison to the memory of the absolute fucking walloping he’d received for scuffing those god damn ugly ass shoes the moment they’d gotten home.

“Actually, you want to know something funny? Well, I think it’s funny and I could be mistaken but I believe that you find it funny too, don’t you?”

You turn to Daniel, who nods in agreement, not bothering with a verbal reply when your voice cuts through the arrant sounds and noise pollution without any effort, the unbridled, unapologetic hatred Max knows you harbor for his father, and have always harbored for him, your words leaving a metallic taste on his tongue, each and every one of them crystal clear and wickedly sharp.

His gaze sweeps down the length of your body at opportune moments, Max couldn’t quite manage to put his finger on the way he felt when he discovered that the little girl had remained where he’d left her, her tiny figure neatly bundled away in your arms and hidden from view beneath the navy jacket he could now definitively tell was his, thanks to the cramped embroidered ‘M. Verstappen’ that was now visible on the cuff of one sleeve, the empty arm hanging slack at your hip.

“I think what you’ll find, Jos, is that quite literally no one has ever actually asked you to be here, not even once,” you beam at him like you’re informing the man that he’s just in fact won the lottery, instead of dressing him down with brutal efficiency, “because let’s say the team were to make the decision that they want to make an addition to the staff, that what they believe Red Bull needs is a mentor, a former, accomplished and well respected Formula 1 driver to help guide their drivers to greatness, to give advice and provide technical input when needed.

"There is just no doubt in my mind that a lifetime career of no wins, no pole positions, no fastest laps set, and no laps lead, who’s most outstanding, only, achievements are two podiums, both of which were gained by luck, not on merit, and 17 total points earned across 107 odd races, is the last place they’d start.”

You know full and damn well that the only thing Jos would detest more than being put in his place publicly, would be if it were to be done by a woman, and you hadn’t shied away from the opportunity when presented with it.

Max has a million things he wants to say, that he’d like to contribute, torn between how deeply he agrees with the scathing words that have been flung at his father by Daniel and you, while the other half of him, the one that he’s not particularly fond of, that’s reverent of Jos, that idolizes him, the side that still, even after all these years, craves his approval and his affection, that wants to speak up in defense of his father.

“Hey, for what it counts, that's the kind of career you’d never dream of ever forgiving your son for having but luckily for you, he accomplished by 17 what it took you 32 years to do,” Daniel looks as close to losing control of himself as Max has ever seen him, which feels like a considerable feat to invoke in the older man, and in his defense at that.

Because in their two years as teammates, Max has had a handful of opportunities in which to see the Australian at his worst, at his lowest on occasion, which as seldom as those instances have been, he’s become well enough acquainted with Daniel in a dark mood to safely say he’s not someone to be trifled with when he gets like this.

So, like the coward Jos says that he is and Max tries to convince himself that he isn’t, he just stays quiet and watches, a silent bystander in what is blatantly hinged upon some crucial, critical mass disaster centered around him, simply playing the part of the impartial third party until he either loses his temper, a self-foretold prophecy that he’s currently careening towards fulfilling, or someone takes control of the situation and forces the conversation back on course.

“Is this really the kind of team you’re running here, Horner?” Jos rounds on the team principal, evidently keen to find a way out that doesn’t require him going through Daniel or you, and foolishly still of the belief that Christian, of all people, was still in his corner.

“I want them out, gone, they need to be out, now so that the three of us,” he gestures to himself and Horner, before apathetically waving his hand in Max’s general direction, “can talk man to man about the situation my son has gotten himself into.”

“I think you misunderstand the situation we’re currently in,” Max’s reflexes fail him, his response time a second too slow to catch his mouth as it falls open, almost in slow motion, the expression pure shock too genuine for him to capable of doing much at all about preventing, when Christian Horner laughs in his father’s face, “because if you’re looking for shoulders on which to lay the blame, that responsibility is yours to bear, not for you to saddle Max with.”

The sound of the team principal’s laughter seems to echo off the walls, reverberating through the space until the entire room seems to ring with the mocking frigidity of it, utterly devoid of any mirth, until the exact tone of it feels like it’s been permanently ingrained into Max’s brain.

“They won’t be going anywhere at all until I say the word, nor will any other person that is standing within in boundaries of this garage at this very moment because, as you have seemed to have forgotten, this is my team, they are my employees, they are my drivers, and you will follow my rules because it’s my fucking garage you’re stood in."

Jos just stares at Horner, like his brain is still bogged down in processing the current state of affairs as they unfold.

And if Max didn’t know better, he’d say Christian was actually enjoying himself right now, however begrudgingly he was trying to get away with it by just playing things off.

“Nothing to say? Lovely, I needed my luck to turn around,” Christian scoffs at him, before turning slightly to his right, cheating his body towards somewhere in between the place where Max and Daniel stand together and the secondary spot where you stand holding the toddler, your arms showing no sign of tiring that Max can see and the little girl doesn’t seem to mind remaining exactly where she is for a while longer.

“Well this isn’t something I’d ever thought I’d have to hash out when I signed up for this job but fine, let’s figure out how this kind of thing is supposed to go,” Horner’s face lacks any hint of strong emotion, his expressions not particularly leaning one way or the other, and leaving Max with absolutely fuck all to go on to try and put together where the hell whatever this ill-matched, horrendously timed meeting of the minds was heading.

Because at the moment, all he could really think about was the verbal reaming Jos no doubt had in store for him later, his preternatural sixth sense about the intensity of these post grid reviews was already leaning towards being historically horrific, and that he was pretty sure he could smell himself, the combination of his perspiration and that god awful smell that this particular set of fireproofs seemed to have woven into the fabric, the weave of which was soaked clean through and clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

The only thing he wanted in the entire world was to get out of his racing suit, preferably burning it because it had realistically been a dead set a month or two prior, into a shower and then to put on a clean clothes but none of that seemed particularly high on anyone’s to do list save his, so, whatever, he’d just have to wait.

“Let’s not do this here,” you have the tact to make sure your words read like they’re merely a suggestion, instead of just immediately presenting as what it actually is, a directive to be followed, so as not to get anyone’s back up about it, minimizing the likelihood for any push back about it.

“Fine, whatever,” Max makes sure he sounds disinterested and impassive as he mumbles his assent, not wanting to come off like he cares all that much about where this conversation happens, which proves to be an easy enough task, thanks in large part to the fact that he actually doesn’t give a shit about that component of things, “by all means lead the way.”

It hardly seems to be of any consequence, and certainly not worth acknowledging or mentioning, that the only reason he’d spoken up was because it had been your idea in the first place and he may or may not have acted upon his sudden impulse to head off his father, who if Max knew anything at all about the man, had been gearing up to throw some sideways fucking comment at you.

Because the thing is, he’s not in any particular mood to learn about the finer details of how he’d react to any comment made by his father if it were ever allowed to be made. So, in the interest of progress and keeping things in line for as long as was feasible, which is the line that he’s fed himself and will be sticking to, Max had thereby seen fit for him to intervene.

“Too many eyes in here, too many cameras,” he points out, hoping to satisfy the looks of curiosity his impromptu comments have earned him, “they’ll never learn to be good at their jobs if we just make things easy on them.”

He couldn’t care less about the media, about what’s being broadcasted, or about what anyone has to say about him beyond the people already gathered around him, that make up the weak circle he’s huddled up in, with the exception of his mother, his sister and GP, if he’s being thorough about it.

But that doesn’t mean he permits himself the leniency to actually look at you, not while he’s still speaking and certainly not once he’s fallen back into the listless, stoic silence he’d been safely ensconced in just a moment prior. In spite of himself, Max can’t quite bring himself to ignore entirely what the tiny voice tucked away in the back of his head, half hidden in the shadows of the farthest flung recesses of thought whispers to him softly, as if confiding in him about a secret, one he’s not quite ready to accept just yet but is powerless against.

Max isn’t stupid, he knows the weight of words, the worth of them, the way they can own you if you let them. He doesn’t particularly care of what people have to say, he’s never set much store by what is said or isn’t said- he’s always been of the opinion that what you do is what should matter in the end but that seems to be a point of contention between himself and the ways of the world. He can pretend till he’s blue in the face and grey haired, but he can’t run from the truth.

You think, you know, that if she asked you to, you’d probably be willing to follow her just about anywhere she wanted to go. It’s funny, isn’t it? The way things work, the way people work, the way the heart wants what the mind doesn’t… that what you wish you detested, what you should resent and rebuke, is more often than not the very thing you could never truly hate.

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

If Max had been confused before, he was well and truly lost now, and somehow felt even further removed from ever finding his way out of the labyrinthine maze of corridors that seemed to make up whatever the hell it was that was going on today.

The group was now standing awkwardly in the fluorescent lighted, narrow hallway that was just off the garage. It wasn’t necessarily the kind of place that he would have chosen, the lack of privacy afforded by the open space and the doors at either end that didn’t require more than a team badge to open were less than favorable features.

Not to mention the fact that the acoustics of the space seemed to amplify every tiny little noise tenfold, and to such an extent that every step, every sigh, and every quietly mumbled word that passed between you and Dan felt uncomfortably loud, echoing in his ears and grating at his nerves until he felt rubbed raw and overstimulated in record time.

But while it may not have been his pick of locale for such an undertaking, especially in light of such glaringly obvious downfalls, Max refrains from vocalizing any of his concerns, regardless of how valid they might seem in his mind, as no one else seems to share his reservations and that matters more than anything else.

It’s an old habit, one he’d love to be free of, that he can’t quite seem to successfully break himself of, that had been ingrained in him at an early age, when he’d realized that he had a tendency to see the world and the people that populated it in a different light than those around him, and he had quickly learned that it was better for himself, for everyone involved, that he simply keep his own council on the vast majority of thoughts that crossed his mind.

He knew it was wrong, that it was foolish and childish of him just how quickly he’d invalidate his own thoughts, feelings or observations when he didn’t think that the people around him shared them, but he seemed powerless in the face of such a long held, time honored tradition of keeping his own council. It didn’t matter how deeply he believed something, how important it had been in the moment, how critical it had felt, he would dismiss it all entirely, suddenly absolutely certain that if he was the only one that had been of such an opinion then it was worth anything at all.

You, Daniel and Horner had claimed one side of the hall without a moment’s hesitation, falling into place like you’d been here before, like this was known territory and giving him the impression that more likely than not, whatever it was that had happened early, while he’d evidently been the only person at Red Bull that had been focused solely on qualifying, had happened here.

Uncertain of where he should stand, feeling like the odd one out, and not having any particular interest or patience at present to bother with sifting his way through the politics of picking between the two opposing sides that had already been established, Max simply consigns himself to the most neutral options left open to him. He assumes position in no man’s land, which in this circumstance happens to be the dead center of the hallway, paying painfully close attention to the exact stretch of floor he finally settles on, going so far as to start counting tiles until he’s absolutely sure of the middle ground.

It doesn’t take long at all for Max’s initial theory to be confirmed, that this space had already been witness to some conflict, because in the time it takes for him to break the staring contest he’d been having with the ground, now feeling quite confident that his feet are safely planted in unbiased, unclaimed territory, and get his first good, proper look at the room around him, his eyes land on the fist sized hole in one wall.

His father had evidently given the mangled mess of drywall and plaster a wide berth, stepping around from the spot like it had done him some personal injustice, before coming to a halt a few feet away, which was all the evidence that Max really needed to start drawing rational conclusions as to what exactly had happened here. Glancing away from the damaged wall, Max casts his eyes around, looking for further explanation without having to ask it of anyone.

Apparently, it’s not all that difficult to figure out where his head’s at, almost as if his train of thought is just scrawled across his forehead in bold capital letters, like his mind is an open book that’s been ready-made available for public perusal and appraisal because when he looks up, Daniel’s eyes are already on him, his right hand raised in silent answer.

Max stares blankly at his teammate’s proffered fist, taking note of the black and blue bruises already blooming across the back of his hand, taking in his bloodied knuckles, the skin damaged and torn in a jagged mess, watching the way Dan flexes his hand, as if to prove to him that nothing’s broken, that there will be no lasting repercussions for his temper, but doesn’t quite manage to smother the soft wince the small motion pulls from the older man’s lips.

He doesn’t have to be able to see him to know with absolute certainty that when Jos scoffs, and that derisive sound reaches Max’s ears, the entirety of which is just riddled with the unsophistication his father’s more subversive gestures always are, utterly rife with all the sloppy, apathetic hallmarks that are to be expected of a man with a wildly inflated sense of self-worth, that he’d been watching the exchange between the two teammates and seen something there that hadn’t met his standard.

“What’s that about, hm?” You ask Jos, your head cocked to one side and eyebrows raised, assessing the other man’s expression with such razor-sharp intensity that there was no detail of his face, no facial feature, no skin imperfection and no wrinkle that could hope to conceal the answers from you.

Max can’t help himself, he groans when he hears your voice raised in challenge because whether he likes it or not, and regardless of the fact that you’d in all likelihood maintain until the end of time that he doesn’t have a single clue what he’s on about, he knows that tone and the cut of your words, and the inflection that stays cool and collect as it slips past the question, don’t precipitate anything good.

“What were you laughing at? I think we could all use a good laugh,” you give him a small grin, the expression all teeth and poison, “so… share with the group.”

“Leave it,” Horner snaps, warning blazing in his eyes.

“One of these days, Christian, you’re going to have to stop trying to protect her from the world. You won’t always be here to save her from herself,” Jos remarks snidely.

“She’s not the one I’m protecting here,” Horner doesn’t miss a beat, his face unreadable, “eventually, one of us,” he waves his hand to Daniel and Max, “won’t be here to keep her from getting her hands on you.”

“She is standing right here,” you cut in smoothly, but Max isn’t quite so easily misled by your callous flippancy, “and she is an active part of this conversion.”

Because he sees it instantly, he can read it in the lines of your face, catch it flickering in the corner of your eye, Max knows you’re unable to resist indulging in the classics, the old standbys. He can practically hear you now, your voice coming to life inside his head, the way you’d be holding back a giggle as you explain that ‘there’s just something about a ‘she is right there, so don’t speak about me like I’m not here, she has a name, she can speak for herself’ moment that I can’t turn down.’

“Seriously though, I do have a name, that is not she, and you all know it- this is not news, so let’s try using it.”

Max whips his head in your direction so violently he cricks his neck but it’s not the self-inflicted injury that forces him stifled a groan, no, that’s entirely thanks to his failure to catch him, to keep himself from reacting to the sound of your voice like he had, he’d given himself away in an instant.

“You alright over there, Verstappen?” You’re toying with him, Max knows exactly what you’re trying to do here, to get him all riled up over nothing to lessen the stress of present situation, which he could only assume had to be fucking dire since it had necessitated the five of you be in such close proximity in an enclosed space.

He also knows he shouldn't give into it because that would be encouraging you, it would be indulging spoiled behavior, and it’ll come back to bite him in the ass at some point but Max doesn’t really care, not right now.

Everyone around him is being so fucking weird right now, Dan is looking at him like he’s just found out that Max has a terminal illness and only has a few weeks to live, his father is standing next to a hole his teammate had put in the wall, and for some reason, there’s a miscellaneous child here- and Max can’t take another second of it.

So, Max comes to the conclusion that if you’re so willing to get up on the pitcher’s mound and start a game in front of present company… then he’ll play ball.

“Do I look like I’m alright?” If he needed any assurances about how perfectly he’d nailed the delivery of that line then the wrinkle in your forehead, and the eyebrow arched in surprise would convince him because both are the hallmarks of assessment, like you can’t quite tell if he’s actually annoyed right now or not.

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

“No,” Daniel and Horner answer at the same time, their voices pained, like they’re both dreaming about deliverance from this life’s mortal constraints through the sweet release of death.

“Yes,” Max finds he really does mean that.

“You know I’ve always thought that when you’ve just recently been in the car and you haven’t gotten to change yet, like how you are right now, that you look like you know exactly what’s entailed when-”

“No, no, no,” Horner shakes his head, the horrified laughter that bubbles up between his words is that of a man that has seen some shit, who’s just taken one glance at where things were headed and said absolutely fucking not, “we are not- no, this is not why we are here, just- no.”

Christian looks around at everyone, utterly mystified as to how things had gotten so far off track with such little resistance.

“I am just,” the team principal trails off mid-sentence, rubbing at his temple with the heel of one hand, “Daniel, please, can you…”

“Me?” His teammate sounds genuinely surprised by the suggestion but the expression on Horner’s face tells Max that he’d intended for Daniel to have the role all along, “really?” the Australian turns to you, as if he’s expecting you to back him up on his but instead his features fall flat when you nod your head in confirmation.

“Let’s just get this over with already,” Max has had more than enough of being the odd one out, of being the only one here who’s still completely in the dark.

“Max,” Daniel reaches out towards him before catching himself, his arm retracted almost as quickly as he’d extended it, like he’d been intending to rest his hand comfortingly on Max’s shoulder but then thought better of it. The Australian clears his throat, pressing his lips into a thin line, like he’d trying to find his voice again, like he doesn’t quite know where to start.

“All I ask of you is this, that you believe what you’re about to hear, and that you remember, regardless of everything else, we,” he gestures first to himself, then waves his hand in Horner’s direction, who’s refusing to meet Max’s gaze, and then to you, your gaze fixed steadfast on his face, watching him knowingly, “we are here for you, we will figure all this out.”

“Okay seriously, what the fu-” Max has had more than enough of this, enough of the worried expressions, of all these gun-shy words, of all the gazes trained on his face. He feels like he can’t breathe, like the oppressive weight of being at the center of attention, of finding himself the unwilling subject of discussion, has seen fit to settle itself squarely on his chest, suddenly determined to ensure that the only way he’ll be leaving here is on a stretcher.

And if you don’t stop looking at him like that, like you care or like you have any fucking right to look at him like you are, Max is going to lose his goddamn mind. He knows it’s stupid, that it’s childish and petty that this is the factor that’s threatening to send him toppling over, to push him careening over the edge into the abyss of his temper but that doesn’t change matters in the slightest.

“This is Kaia,” you tell Max the name of the girl tucked into your side, her little toddler’s body cradled in your arms, her tiny delicate features still half hidden from him by the hood of the jacket tucked over her. He tries to not think about the way you said ‘Kaia’, about the way you’d offered the name to him like it was something to be cherished, to be handled with kid gloves, like you wanted him to understand the weight of it, the worth of it.

His heart almost ached to hear that much tenderness put into a name. Almost.

“She, Kaia, she’s y-’ Daniel doesn’t even have a chance, no, Max’s father makes sure of that.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! The girl is yours, Max, she’s your daughter. You and that empty headed, little Italian-”

The words crash over his head like the surges of white peaks of the breakers churning against the seafloor as they rush in, slamming into the shoreline with an unrelenting brutality, this sudden revelation washing away the wreck of waterlogged, ruined emotion that threatened to drown Max if he’d let it, carrying away all his conflicting desires and misplaced loyalty and maligned intentions on the same undertow that had brought in the current of glacial, ruthless determination.

There’s no time to think, he just moves. Because where one moment he’d been stood frozen in place, his feet rooted to the floor, feeling entirely certain that he’d likely remain exactly where he was until such a time came that he was forcibly removed, somehow, in the next, he was moving, crossing the short distance that separated his father from where he’d been in two sweeping steps.

Max, leans into the motion mid-stride, letting his momentum flow through him, pouring the force his body carries forward into the smooth, upward arch of his right arm through the air, ensuring that when his fist connects with his father’s face in a sharp, powerful uppercut, there’s not much that remains to be said.

Blood drips steadily from beneath the hand Jos has gingerly raised to his face, his palm protectively cradling his nose, the fracture in the bridge already swelling, but Max really doesn’t fucking care.

He finds that he’s quite a bit regretful that they’d traded in the arena of the Red Bull garage for this inconsequential hallway, if only because here there are no camera lens, there’s no flash of photographers, there’s no commentator’s to immortalize what Max already knows is a complete loss of temper and control that’ll fated to live on in infamy in the sport for decades regardless of whether or not it was caught on TV or it is relegated to being the stuff of anonymous, insider knowledge.

Because, the thing is, this moment, this very moment was the first time in quite a long time that Max would not have minded being recorded, he would not have minded being out there on the internet, to be brought up at inopportune moments or find its way into YouTube videos, he would have dealt with being haunted by the snippet for the rest of his life, in the way that only becoming a F1 driver had shown him a handful of seconds were more than capable of doing, and he wouldn’t have complained once.

But he supposed that the memory of the sickening crunch Jos’s nose had made when his knuckles had connected with it, of the startled yelp of pain his father had made or the savage, exhilarated grin he’d flashed him the split second before he hauled back and swung again.

“I- You-” in the nearly 21 years that Max has been alive, he can’t think of a single instance, not a single once in the entirety of his life, can he recall a time in which he has heard his father stutter, absolutely at a loss for words. It feels like an accomplishment, like it’s something to be proud of, that he should remember.

“How long?” Max doesn’t know what else to do to keep himself from taking another shot at his father, so he takes the course of action that comes to mind and asks the first question that comes out of his mouth.

Jos doesn’t reply, his eyes sliding slowly shut as if he hopes the answer will vanish, will fade away into nothingness if he can no longer see his son’s face and the righteous fury etched on it.

“I said how long?” Max hardly recognizes his own voice and cannot bring himself to trust entirely the control he’s somehow managed to maintain thus far, knowing already that what comes next, what will rain down, when he finally loses that restraint will be an ugly, terrible thing and not one he’ll be particularly proud of.

“You will speak when spoken to, Jos,” Helmut Marko strides down the hallway with the swagger and gravitas of a much younger man, his presence made commanding force that has Max reacting despite himself, drawing himself up to his full height, his shoulders pushed back and his head held high, his spine now ramrod straight, and his chin raised proudly like a man readying himself to pass muster.

“Don’t take that tone with-”

“Do as your son tells you to. Do it now.” Marko refuses to back down, cutting off Jos without a second thought.

“Fine,” his father forces the word out through clenched teeth. “But he’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“How long have you known?”

“How long have I known what? That you’d fucked up? That you had a daughter? That you are nothing without me?”

“Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me.” Max presses his forearm to his father’s throat, pinning him to the wall.

“Think about your actions here, Max. Don’t do anything you’ll regret because I’m not a forgiving man,” his father says, acting for all the world as if all's well and his son doesn’t have the upper hand.

“Get her out of here,” he doesn’t have to turn around to give the order, Max knows you’d heard him, and you’ll obey in this, only in this, because it’s already been made abundantly clear you’ll do whatever it takes to keep Kaia safe, “now.”

“You should say goodbye to Kaia because this is the last time you’ll ever be in the same room as her again, that you will ever see her again.”

“If you think you can keep my granddaughter from me-”

“She’s not your granddaughter, she doesn’t have a grandfather,” Max counts your footsteps as you walk swiftly down the hall, not trusting himself to look at your retreating figure with his daughter balanced on one hip and not follow after you. His resolve shatters the second your steps falter as you round the corner, the sudden halt jarring.

“There’s people, cameras, outside?” Your voice falters as you reappear, backtracking into the safety of the bleak stretch of hallway.

“It’s alright mate, I’ll go with them,” Daniel gives Max a comforting smile, not unlike the one you were quietly giving the little girl- no, Kaia, his daughter- he corrects himself, trying valiantly not to let on to the sea of people around him just how deep of a chord the words strike in his chest.

Unashamedly, Max downright refuses to tear his eyes away as you sway delicately side to side, alternating back and forth between balancing on one foot and then the other, with her perched on one hip and her tiny face that is so like his own is cradled soothingly in the curve of your neck.

Max would be lying if he said he didn’t momentarily feel as if he were trapped in a free fall, like the final tether to his sanity and to reality itself have just been severed by Daniel’s decision to go, to leave him alone to handle this, to force him to fight his way out all on his own and to find the answers he so desperately needs as a solitary figure, isolated and standing alone in the midst of the melee.

“I can’t do this alone-” he starts, only to be cut off by Daniel, who fixes him with an unwavering, unyielding look stretched taut across his face, the expression seemingly so entirely out of place on his features that there’s appallingly little which feels truly familiar about his unnaturally closed off characteristics.

“You can and you will. I’m going to go with them,” Daniel says patiently, gesturing to you and Kaia with a wave of his hand like this is nothing at all to him. Yet, the tone of his voice makes it abundantly clear that his teammate has absolutely no intentions to broker any disputes or to hear a single excuse or complaint further escape from his lips. “And you will be fine, Max. You know where to find us when you’re done here.”

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kurosukii · 4 years

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your relationship is filled with nothing but teasing touches and pleasured sighs, until you tell him that you want to take it to the next level.

genre: smut, fluff, aged up au, established relationship au

warnings: 18+. virginity loss (it’s a social construct but for the sake of smut...), riding, dirty talk, fingering, face-sitting, size kink, nipple play, chest play(??), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, praise kink, unprotected sex, finger sucking, pet names (kitten)

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: koo is the loml. that’s it. (this was the hardest for me to write so far since ✨feelings✨ are involved). this is somewhat the nsfw continuation to safety net but it can still be read alone, i just referenced some things™️. (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

° thank you so much @kurinoot for editing <33

[5:02 PM]

“if you don’t stop tickling me, i’m going to bite you!”

you squealed as you lightheartedly threatened your boyfriend. you were trying to swat his attacks away from your neck and waist as his lean body hovered over yours, but he was just too big for you to throw him off.

“i dare you to bite me, kitten. i’ll just bite you back!” he exclaimed as he raised his head from your neck, with nimble fingers still pressing on to your sides. he laughed at your dumbfounded expression and went back to blowing raspberries on your neck and tickling the dips in your waist.

you would say that you’re tired of kuroo’s childishness, but you would only be lying to yourself. you loved how he was so carefree every time the two of you were together, and you couldn’t be more grateful that kuroo was such an attentive and doting boyfriend. sure, you had your fair share of doubts and insecurities when the two of you first started dating in high school, but it was never because of him. no, it was all you and your past inhibitions. however, kuroo never fails to squash your negative thoughts to the ground.

when you would observe him, you’d remember how the two of you confessed to each other over chemistry homework and you’d just burst out laughing at how it was such a kuroo way for your feelings to be known to each other.

when he asked what made you so happy, you’d always say you and he’d end up making a face but kiss your lips softly a few moments after. those soft kisses don’t last long because they would turn into heated makeout sessions that would leave you gasping for breath.

a few weeks into dating, kuroo admitted to you that he was planning on confessing by making a nonchalant comment here and there and leave you to nitpick what he said. he claimed that it wasn’t to ‘disrupt’ your strong friendship and ‘startle’ you, but you know him like the back of your hand—he was just as nervous as you were.

now that you’re a year or two into dating, being with him just felt so right, like all the puzzle pieces fell into place and formed the beautiful jigsaw of a relationship that you have with him. at first, you were worried that your dynamic with him would change because you weren’t just best friends anymore; you were now involved with each other romantically.

when you told kuroo about it, he would always encourage you to tell him what you were feeling. he would just flick your forehead and tell you that you have nothing to worry about and he was right.

you wouldn’t change a thing about your relationship with kuroo tetsurou, except for one thing.

you have yet to ‘consummate’ your relationship, and it it may seem crazy to others if they knew how long the two of you have been dating (not that it’s any of their business), but you haven’t reached that part of your relationship yet.

the farthest you two have gone was oral, so you knew that it wasn’t because you didn’t find each other desirable. you used to believe the saying ‘i could eat you for hours’ was sort of an exaggeration but now you can confidently admit your mistake and say that kuroo puts that saying to shame because he has spent hours buried between your legs perfecting his oral ‘techniques’.

more often than not, you would always find yourself begging him to stop eating your pussy because it ached and your clit felt so numb. you’ve always wondered if his jaw and tongue were made of iron steel and he would just laugh at you before diving back in, making you squirt all over his face for the nth time that day.

you’d also return the favor, of course, but you’ve always had a difficult time fitting his entire cock in your mouth because he was not only long, he was also achingly thick. you can’t even wrap your fingers around his shaft and he would always only fit halfway through your mouth, but he didn’t care because after cumming down your throat, he’d immediately lay you on your back and devour your cunt again.

that’s why you were so fucking annoyed because you knew that you wanted to fuck each other, so what was stopping the both of you?

well, it was your stubbornness. you wanted kuroo to initiate the next step but he would always tease you. you’d think that after years of pining for you, he’d jump at the chance to fuck you, but no, he stayed a saint (if you disregard the moments he made you orgasm multiple times).

if there’s one thing you disliked about kuroo now, it was his immense self-control and penchant for teasing you, so after weeks of thinking, you decided to finally raise the white flag and surrender.

although, it wasn’t exactly a defeat because it meant that you were about to finally get your pussy fucked by your boyfriend’s big fat cock for the first time. maybe if–

“what are you thinking about, kitten?” kuroo interrupted your dirty train of thought. his usual bed hair was even messier from playing around with you and his plump lips formed into a pout because you stopped reacting to him a few minutes ago.

fuck. should i tell him? what if he thinks it’s too fast? but we’ve literally covered almost all of the bases– “nothing!” you said in a high-pitched voice, your brain short-circuiting from your ravaging thoughts. kuroo narrowed his hazel eyes at you, clearly aware that you were lying.

“tell me, kitten. i told you that you should never hesitate to tell me what you’re feeling, right?” he raised a dark eyebrow at you. you visibly gulped as your face flushed in embarrassment. never mind the fact that this man has already seen all of you, so acting like a virginal prude seems out of bounds now. well, technically i am still a virgin so–

you were broken out of your stupor when you felt kuroo shift above you. he was hovering over your body, with long legs at either side of your hips as he rose to all fours. his large and warm hands pinned your wrists to the bed as he leaned over you until his lips were ghosting over yours. he licked his lips and you knew he did that on purpose so you could feel his tongue slightly swipe against yours.

your heart was beating fast as his clean and fresh scent invaded your senses. he smirked at you, cat eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint. he could feel your pounding heartbeat and he hoped to the heavens that you couldn’t feel his own because he was just as excited and giddy about you as you are about him.

even after going through every year and life experience together, his heart and mind would never cease to be mesmerized by you. he knew you were endgame the moment you tripped over your own feet and fell to his chest in shoujo style. your friendship practically started from him teasing you about it, and soon enough you became best friends.

now he can finally call you his and you can call him yours. although in his mind he knew that he would forever be yours, even if you didn’t end up together, but that dejected thought vanished when the both of you crossed that bridge and finally came clean with your feelings for each other. he didn’t want to admit it, but every time he’d answer a chemistry homework, he’d smile like a fool and reminisce that fateful day in high school.

because of that chemistry homework, he could enjoy kissing you freely and shamelessly. he also now has the privilege to taste your pussy with his skilled tongue, and his favorite view in the whole world is probably watching your face twist in pleasure as you pull his hair, rocking your slick cunt on his face as you chase your orgasm. he especially loved it when you would beg him to stop but your hips would still move and your eyes would be pleading for him to go on until your pussy gets numb or until you squirt all over his face.

he wanted to fuck you badly, but he was just so patient and he loved torturing himself and you. he also wanted you to take the initiative, just like how he wanted you to confess first, and it wasn’t because he wanted to be chased (he kind of likes it though) but because you called the shots in the relationship. sure, he’s the one that makes you scream his name in pleasure but that’s because you want him to. he wants to hear it from your pretty lips, and he wants to hear you say that you want him to bury himself deep inside of you.

you two spent minutes looking at each other, studying each other’s features and with hearts beating to one rhythm until kuroo closed his eyes and leaned down to bridge the small gap between your lips.

your eyes fluttered shut, sighing into the warmth of his mouth as his tongue licked your lips. he tasted like strawberries and chocolate which made his kisses ten times sweeter. his fingers from your wrists went to your hands and weaved in between them. you kissed him with fervor until your clothes felt too hot on your heated skin.

he lifted his head, teeth nibbling your lower lip as he slowly pulled away. he stole another quick kiss before he rested his forehead on yours as he breathed deeply and smiled.

“i love kissing you, kitten. now do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he questioned you as he nuzzled his nose against yours, breathing in your scent deeply. you inhaled a big breath before bluntly telling him what you were thinking,. and truth be told, there was no other way that kuroo would accept your request because he’s a tease like that.

“i want you to fuck me, tetsurou.”

he froze, stopping himself from rubbing on you like a cat before he stretched his lips into a devilish grin and teased you.

“yeah? do you want me to fuck you right now?” he asked you, his honey eyes becoming sharper as he licked his lips. you nodded at him and he tutted at you, squeezing your fingers.

“use your words, kitten. i want to hear you say it,” he said in his deep and smoky voice.

“yes, tetsu. i want you to fuck me right now!” you whined as you lifted your hips to grind against his tenting pants. kuroo just smirked at you, grinding directly against your core making you moan.

“stop teasing me, tetsu. i need you,” you whimpered as you exposed your neck to him. he straddled your waist as he unlaced your fingers to remove his shirt from his lean body. you were just salivating at the sight before you, his abs flexing while he raised his thick arms.

you couldn’t stop yourself from tracing the lines of his abs with the tips of your fingers as he shuddered at your light touch, with his spine tingling at your soft caresses. he removed your hands and laced his own between them as he kissed you harder this time. you moaned at the onslaught of his mouth as your teeth and tongue clashed.

he pulled away from your lips and he made a path of kisses along your jaw down to the sensitive skin of your neck. you moaned as you rolled your hips when he sucked on the skin, leaving a purple bruise. he kissed it before he went to the other side of your neck to give it the same attention.

once he was satisfied with the marks he left on your neck, he let go of your hands and slowly lifted your shirt off your body with a certain reverence. his eyes sparkled as he traced your soft skin. he’s seen you naked countless times, but he’ll never get used to how beautiful and ethereal you look and he never fails to let you know either.

“you’re so beautiful, kitten. i will never get used to seeing you, my precious jewel,” he said softly, lips tracing every patch of skin that’s exposed to him. your heart soared and your face flushed at his praise. he looked at you like you were a goddess and him, the worshipper.

“no bra, kitten? were you planning this the whole time?” he raised a dark eyebrow, with eyes trained on your hardening nipples. he licked his lips and lowered his head to suck one into his watering mouth. you moaned at the sensation, as your fingers combed through his soft hair. he didn’t neglect the other one, pinching and rolling it between his long fingers. you pushed his head lower to your chest as the both of you rubbed on each other.

he was moaning into your breast, tongue swirling over the hardened peak as he sucked and licked. your panties were pooling with wetness, aroused by kuroo’s wet and hot mouth. you cried loudly when he simultaneously pinched and bit your nipples before lifting his head and staring at the swollen skin.

his hands slowly traveled down to your hips as your breathing increased in pace. he sure does love taking his sweet time, you grumbled in your head. you felt scrutinized by him, and it made you want to cover yourself up, but the way his hands were ghosting over your skin, touching you as if you were a delicate figurine, made you feel so desired underneath him.

he didn’t even seem to mind the growing bulge in his pants, as he was too focused and enamored by your figure. you used to feel uncomfortable at his silence during intimate moments like this, but you’ve come to realize that you always render him speechless every time you lay bare before him, and that made your ego huff in pride.

he removes your shorts and panties as his hands went lower. you lifted your hips to help him and he groaned at how the wet string from your pussy seemed to follow the path of your soon-to-be discarded bottoms.

due to your longing determination to tease him in return you raised your knees until your feet were flat on the bed and spread them until you felt your lower lips separate with a squelching sound. you softly moaned at the growing wetness in your pussy.

kuroo’s plump lips were parted as he let out a low groan while he stared at his favorite meal, tongue sliding out to wet his suddenly dry mouth as he rubbed your outer thighs.

“i’ve seen your cunt tons of times but it never fails to make me speechless, kitten. your pussy is as pretty as you, fuck,” he groaned as he reached out two slender fingers to slide along your weeping slit. you clenched at the sensation, letting out a low whimper when you saw kuroo lick his fingers and released them with a pop.

you moved to widen your legs more to give him space for his broad shoulders, but before even doing so he stopped you. you were about to question him until he shushed you with a finger to your lips.

“i want to try something new. figured if we’re going to finally fuck tonight, we might as well try a few more firsts, hm?” he teased you, honey eyes glinting with mischief which made your aching body shudder. the last time he said that, you ended up cumming so much that your legs wouldn’t stop shaking for five minutes.

you raised your eyebrow at him in question before he smirked at you. your breath hitched as he leaned down to your ear. “won’t you sit on my face, kitten? ride my tongue until all your juices cover my mouth and chin?” he whispered sensually, hot breath tickling your ear as he kissed it. you moaned softly as your ears burned from the barely-there kiss.

your body is brimming with sexual frustration, blood heating up at his request. for all the times he had his mouth on you, he never really asked to switch things up and you hadn’t either. you can’t deny that your pussy tingled from the idea of him offering to be under you like that.

“what do you say kitten? think you’re up for it?” he asked you again, lips grazing the side of your ear as his smoky voice left shivers in his wake. you moaned out a yes as he kissed you, slowly this time to savor the taste of your lips before he tastes your other set.

he pulled away and gently flipped both of your bodies until he was lying flat on his back with your naked cunt directly on top of his throbbing bulge, with breasts slightly swaying at the movement. you hissed at the heat emanating from there and couldn’t stop yourself from grinding on his clothed cock.

you both moaned at the stimulation, but he stopped your hips before you could cause any more friction. “not yet, kitten. i want to eat your pussy first,” he said as he let go of your hips to place his hands behind his head, the action causing his biceps to flex which made your pussy and mouth water even more. he let out a low laugh, clearly satisfied with your reaction.

“drag your pussy up to my chest, kitten. the only time i want you to lift yourself is when you’re positioned right over my face,” he ordered you, honey eyes turning to gold as he watched your breasts heave up and down, breath quickening.

you moaned at his lewd order, hands bracing on his chest to support your weight before you dragged your wet cunt all over his torso. the position of your arms made your tits bunch together and kuroo swore he started drooling. you started moving up his body and couldn’t stop the whimpers that came out of your mouth.

fuck, i could cum just by grinding on his abs alone, you thought. the way the ridges of his abs were dragging on your clit made you lightheaded. you definitely have to try grinding on his abs until you reach your orgasm sometime soon. “next time, kitten, but not now,” kuroo groaned as he felt your wetness trail over his torso, clearly knowing what you were thinking. he’d indulge you but that wasn’t his main focus as of right now.

you were gasping and whining when you reached the top of his chest, legs weak from the unprecedented stimulation on your clit. his arms were on his sides, ready to guide your thighs on either side of his face. you lifted yourself and hovered over his face, your face flushing from the new position.

you didn’t want to completely sit on his face for fear of him suffocating so you opted to hover instead and held onto the headboard for dear life. kuroo tutted in disapproval but he let it go because either way, he was going to do what he was good at and you’d end up dropping on his face, just like he wanted.

he stared at your dripping pussy while his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs. his hot breaths were fanning your clenching hole as you shuddered and moaned. you could feel the ache in your thighs starting to build up from being in a squatting position but you were determined not to crush his skull.

“i’ll have you sitting on my face, kitten. hold me to that,” he promised you, voice laced with determination. that was the last thing he said before he kissed your pussy and licked a long and wet stripe from your slit to your pulsing bud.

you cried out and instinctively raised your body from the new feeling but his arms didn’t allow you to. he trapped your body in that position as he sucked your aching clit into his wet mouth. you looked into his eyes as you squeezed the headboard, breasts swaying from your sudden jerks.

“oh my god, tetsu! that’s so good!” you moaned loudly as his tongue drew figure eights around your bud. you could feel your legs starting to shake as his tongue lapped up at your clit. you swore you could feel his mouth stretch out into a smirk at your shattering resolve.

kuroo was taking his time. he wanted to see the exact moment your legs would give out and sit on his face so he could get to work. you were just being your stubborn self and he wanted to see you succumb to the pleasure he was giving you.

“keep licking my clit just like that, oh my god, yes–!” you moaned loudly, voice cracking as kuroo’s talented tongue swirled around your clit again and again. “oh yes, fuck! fuck don’t stop, don’t stop!” you whined, the words jumbling together as your legs were near giving out. you were still fighting it and kuroo decided that he was done letting you have your fun and it was time that he got down to business.

you screamed as kuroo’s mouth left your clit and plunged his tongue right into your sopping cunt, effectively making your legs crash and sit on his face. he groaned in pleasure at feeling you all over him. he ate you out with fervor, his nose rubbing your clit. your hands fell from the headboard and gripped his hair so you could grind on his tongue in your cunt.

“tetsu, fuck that’s so hot. i could feel your tongue so deep in my pussy, yesyesyes,” you threw your head back as you moaned out the last word as you rode his face. the more you rode his mouth, the louder his groans became, the more pleasure shot straight to your clit. you removed your hands from his hair and fisted the pillow on top of his head to give you more balance to ride his face.

kuroo took this opportunity to raise his arms to play with your nipples. your moans increased in volume and pitch as he tweaked and rolled the nipples in his fingers. the wet sounds of his tongue fucking your clit were making your spine tingle and body shake.

you didn’t care that you were fucking his face because your orgasm was so close. he didn’t seem to mind either because his groans increased in volume the more you used his face as a fucktoy. you raised your trembling arms to your sides as you leaned back, blissed-out face facing the ceiling as you rolled your hips around his tongue.

“i’m g-gonna cum, tetsu! fuck yes, fuck yes, i’m gonna cum, right there–!” you screamed as he pinched both of your nipples, hips moving on their own accord as you prolong your climax. you were whimpering and mumbling out nonsense as your hips slowed down, trying to catch your breath from that strong orgasm.

kuroo gently lifted you off his mouth, strings of your cum stretching out from his lips, and raised himself to lean against the headboard. he settled you on his lap over his throbbing cock as he inhaled loudly and deeply, trying to suck in as much air as he could. his swollen lips and chin were drenched in your juices. he licked as much as he could off of his face and wiped the rest with the back of his hand.

“you liked that kitten?” he asked you with a tilt to his head, midnight hair mussed up from your fingers. you scowled at him, knowing damn well you liked what he did if he made you cum that hard, he just wanted the validation.

he laughed at your reaction as he wrapped his long arms around your slightly shaking body and squeezed you. he buried his nose in your neck and nuzzled it. he was humming while planting soft kisses on the skin, teeth nipping it here and there.

how can he act like this when his cock is pulsing underneath me?

you weren’t satiated, not in the least. you wanted his cock in you and you were going to make it happen, never mind the fact that he has a monster cock. you don’t care how it’s going to happen but he’s going to fit.

you raised yourself on your knees and started pulling the string to his pants so you could free his aching cock. kuroo stopped you and you whined at him, rosy lips forming into a pout.

“i want your cock, tetsu, please. i need it to fill my pussy,” you whined at him, eyes begging for him to just put it in you. you squeezed his shoulders as you rubbed yourself on his clothed cock, your slick leaving a wet stain on his crotch. his large cock was straining against his pants, a sign that he too was burning to get inside of you.

he squeezed your hip as he tutted at you. “you need to be thoroughly prepped, kitten. i want you to be dripping everywhere before you take my cock, okay?” he said softly, warm lips meeting yours as his large fingers trailed down to reach your cunt, spreading your folds as he teased your slit with his middle finger.

you moaned into his mouth as he reached your clit, finger drawing slow circles around the aching bud while the rest of his fingers played with the wet strings that were falling out from your previous orgasm.

you moaned even louder when he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, the entrance of them making a squelching sound as your juices coated his fingers. he pumped them in and out while never leaving your lips, both of your moans mixing.

you squealed when he curled them, hitting your g-spot. he did all of that while his other hand played with your clit. your moans were being swallowed by his mouth, his tongue entwined with yours as you felt your spit mix with his.

the kiss was as messy as your pussy down there with your juices drenching his fingers. you felt his arm move faster as he pumped his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. you pulled away from his mouth to moan into his shoulder and he took this moment to whisper in your ear.

“yeah, you really like this, huh? look how much mess you’re making, kitten. think you can take my cock after this, hm?” he asked you, tongue snaking out to lick your earlobe, his fingers scissoring inside your walls.

“yes, tetsu! i-i can take your cock, oh fuck, that feels so good!” you cried out, teeth slightly biting his shoulder.

“then cum for me,” he growled, fingers curling in that come hither motion as he pinched your clit. you screamed out your orgasm again, tears brimming in your eyes as your body shook from your second climax. kuroo softly kissed your lips as you tried to come down from your high.

he took his fingers out and brought them in between your faces while he stared at them in fascination. your cum was hanging in strings from his fingers as he placed them in his mouth and groaned at the taste. you moaned weakly watching him genuinely enjoy your juices. you watched him maintain eye contact with you while he sucked and lapped at his fingers for a minute before you started tugging on his pants again.

“eager, are we?” he teased you. you narrowed your eyes at him because he was just as eager as you. his hands were fumbling around his waistband, hips lifting so you could pull them down his legs.

your mouth watered as his thick cock bounced against his stomach. pre-cum was leaking from its swollen tip, you watched it roll down along the veins of his shaft, stopping at his balls.

he gripped it with one hand and squeezed it, groaning at the stimulation. he was so fucking long and thick that the stretch was most likely going to be uncomfortable, but you didn’t care, you’ve been so needy for his dick that you don’t care about it impaling you.

you situated yourself until you were hovering over his cockhead, lightly rubbing it against your wet slit, making the both of you moan at the new sensation.

“tell me to stop when it hurts, okay kitten? i want you to be as comfortable as possible,” he said softly, thumb slightly grazing your lips as he looked you in the eye.

“yes, tetsu,” you pecked his lips before you balanced yourself with one hand on his shoulder and gripped his cock with the other and stroked it a few times. he was breathing heavily and his hands were gently squeezing your hips.

you guided his cock at your hole and moaned when his tip entered your clenching walls. you lowered yourself onto his cock, your walls sucking him in, inch by inch.

“breathe, baby. fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, voice straining at your heat engulfing him. you were going so slowly due to his size and also because you wanted to feel every ridge on his cock around your walls.

“you’re so big, tetsu. i could feel your cock everywhere,” you moaned long and hard, nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders. he squeezed your hips in response, muscles tight with tension as he fought to pull you down on his lap.

you both cried out when you finally sheathed his entire cock in your pussy. the stretch felt uncomfortable but soon gave way to pleasure the more your cunt clenched and unclenched around him.

kuroo groaned at the feeling, his eyes silently begging you to move, or else he’d start jerking his hips and start drilling your pussy. you raised your trembling thighs off his lap, cunt dragging along his shaft until only his tip remained inside of you.

you mewled loudly as you dropped yourself on him, his cock making a squelching sound as he made contact with your wetness. “shit, kitten. you want my cock that much?” he moaned, lifting your hips again as he pulled you back down on his cock before he set up a rhythm. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he moved your body, moaning in his neck as the slapping of your skin on his ring in your ears.

“f-fuck t-tetsu! oh my god, your cock’s stretching my pussy–yes!” you bit your lip as you moaned from the pleasure. you raised your head to look at his face, his pink lips parted and breaths panting as he took control of your hips. your breasts were swaying with each thrust and you held on to them while kuroo groaned at your bouncing tits.

“i think about you fucking me all the time, tetsu,” you moaned breathily as you bounced up and down his cock, clit grinding against his pelvic bone. you rested your forehead on his shoulder with a loud moan as you felt every vein on his fat cock glide against your tight walls.

he threw his head back and moaned at your admission while he squeezed your hips. “yeah? tell me what you want me to do to your pussy,” he groaned, his hips thrusting up into your clenching hole. you cried, nails digging into his shoulders as his thick cock stretched you even further.

“i want you to wreck my pussy! cum in me so much that my pussy’s dripping in your cum!” you screamed as he thrust up into your cunt, cock hitting the entrance of your cervix.

“yeah? do you know how long i’ve wanted to fuck this pussy, kitten?” he growled as he flipped your bodies, with his thrusts increasing in speed now that he’s on top of you. he laced your fingers together as he delivered a hard thrust that had your pussy creaming even more around him.

“fuck, i can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” he moaned as he watched his cock disappear in your cunt. you moaned as your walls clenched even harder around him.

“your pretty little mouth can’t even fit my whole cock but your pussy is just sucking me in,” he groaned as he kissed you hard, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. his thrusts were so deep and fast that your tits were bouncing everywhere.

“f-faster t-tetsu! don’t stop please!” you begged him, legs wrapping around his waist as you closed the distance between your bodies, your hands squeezing his.

“i’m so close! oh my god yesyesyes i’m gonna cum–!” you screamed as the knot in your lower stomach uncoiled and you gushed all around him.

“your cunt is so good to me, kitten. fuck!” he moaned in your ear as he thrust one final time before his warm cum drenched your pussy. you were still moaning and whimpering when he stopped moving inside of you.

he raised his head and kissed your lips, this time with more passion. you couldn’t even move your lips with how tired you are so it was like kissing a statue, and he told you so.

“try getting fucked by a big fat cock and see if you can still move, dummy!” you breathed out. you laughed in each other’s lips, breaths mingling.

kuroo rolled over and laid down on his back, bringing you with him and laying your head down his heaving chest, where you could hear his racing heart. he smoothed out your sweaty hair and kissed the crown of your head as his thumb lazily stroked your hip. your heart was racing as fast as his while you traced small circles on his pecs. you kissed it softly and looked up at him and found that he was staring at you.

“i love you, kitten,” he said with a soft smile, honey eyes twinkling in the light of the room.

“i love you too, tetsurou,” you smiled back at him and reached up to peck his lips.

you laid your head down again and nuzzled it, eyes closing as your exhaustion finally caught up with you.

“hey, don’t fall asleep yet! i still have to clean you up!” kuroo exclaimed as he patted your cheek to keep you awake.

“ow! why did you pinch my nipple?!” kuroo pouted, whiny complaints falling from his mouth. you just laughed at him as you squeezed his cheeks in your hands.

he huffed and wrapped his arms around you, carrying you off the bed as he headed for the bathroom.

against your better judgement, round two commenced in the shower.

[7:07 PM]

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serotorin · 3 years

Text

딩가딩가

hanamaki takahiro x reader (ft. the seijoh 4)

1874; alcohol consumption & drunk shenanigans, one slightly suggestive line

it’s 2 am on a friday night and you’re wondering what possessed you to leave the comfort of your own home at this ungodly hour.

this has to be one of life’s greatest mysteries because how did you go from having a nice, quiet dinner at home to being crammed into the back of an uber headed to k-town?

this was not part of what you and hanamaki had planned.

the plan was to have a couple of friends over for dinner and drinks at your new shared apartment. coincidentally, both oikawa and iwaizumi were back home at the same time, so the night was supposed to double as a reunion and housewarming party. and there was the added perk of not having to travel back home after a long night out.

it was the perfect plan—the perfect plan that was ruined the second someone uttered the word ‘karaoke’ and before you could say anything, all your guests had their jackets on, with hiro in the front leading everyone out.

you shoot your boyfriend a glare that he completely misses, too busy belting out his duet of ‘a whole new world’ with matsukawa to notice. a sigh escapes your body as your back hits the leather seat behind you.

maybe it's your fault.

you should’ve known that the second makki promised it would be a casual night that it would be anything but casual. it was never casual when you got together with your high school friends—with iwaizumi's violent reactions to oikawa's childishness, paired with matsukawa and makki's need to instigate literally anything and everything, there was no way this was going to be a casual night.

leaning forward, you rest your elbows on your knees and wave the white flag of defeat. there’s a bunch of green bottles on the table, and you reach past the remote and songbook to grab a grapefruit soju.

might as well enjoy myself while i’m here, you think as you take a swig straight from the bottle. it’s not like you can go home without hiro, and you saw him put 'fergalicious' into the queue earlier so you definitely won’t be leaving anytime soon.

"babe!" hanamaki calls out, plopping himself next to you on the couch. his arm reaches around to grab your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his. you quickly glance at him, and even though you’re stuck in this dark room that’s poorly lit by some cheap LED lights, you can see his cheeks are beginning to match his hair.

"mattsun and i finally beat our record," he hiccups, a bit out of breath. “we scored a 78!” you’d think he just made it into the guinness book of world records with the way he’s smiling from ear to ear.

"wow, a whole 3 points higher than last time," you deadpan, taking another sip of soju.

"don't be mad he always chooses me to be his jasmine," matsukawa quips as he joins you on the other side of the couch.

you turn to face your supposed love rival and your eyes roll, although there’s a hint of humor behind them. “shut up, issei. i still don’t know how you can hit notes higher than me.”

“what can i say,” he shrugs with a cheeky smile to match, “i’m a man of many talents.” you lightly shove mattsun’s shoulder, and almost immediately, he throws both his hands up to surrender. “whoa, whoa, whoa, i don’t want any trouble. makki, your side piece needs to stop bullying me,” he says in jest, causing the three of you to burst out laughing.

“should i put ‘the boy is mine’ into the queue?” you suggest, a smirk dancing on your lips.

matsukawa snorts, throwing his head back in laughter. “yeah, let’s do it. winner gets the title of makki’s true love.”

“you’re on,” you grin. “dibs on brandy’s parts.”

“i’m gonna get us some more drinks. maybe i can convince the guy over there to be the third judge for our battle while i’m at it.” he shoots you a wink, and with that, matsukawa takes his leave, heading towards the waiter that just walked into the room.

“so,” you begin, quirking an eyebrow as you turn back to makki, “i’m the side piece, huh?”

“nah, you're my main,” he says with no hesitation, planting a kiss on your temple. he shifts slightly behind you to whisper, “but don’t tell mattsun,” in your ear, making you giggle. “you having fun?”

“yeah, but you know where we could've had more fun? home.”

“oh come on, you love karaoke. and this,” he points out, “this is just like old times.”

makki gestures to the scene in front of you, and it feels like you’ve been transported back in time, back to when the five of you were teenagers. oikawa’s singing catches your attention—he’s unsuccessfully trying to serenade iwaizumi, who doesn’t seem to notice at all and is pouring himself yet another henny green tea, all while mattsun taps the tambourine to the beat of ‘love story.’

you can’t help but chuckle, a small smile forming on your lips. honestly, if you weren’t dating hiro, you don’t know if you’d stay in touch with these stupid boys. they’re loud, obnoxious, and they get on your nerves more times than you can count.

and yet, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

because even though high school is a thing of the past, long gone and left behind, they’re still the same four idiots you met way back when, and the same four idiots you’re lucky to call your friends.

you’re quick to wipe the sentimental look off your face the moment the song ends. the boys certainly would tease you incessantly if they thought you were getting all sappy on them. hiro suddenly gets up, and before you can ask where he’s going, he hands you a mic.

“our song is up next.”

you look over to the screen, and lo and behold, the lyrics to ‘my boo’ pop up, paired with a 480p montage of a random flower field that is most definitely not part of the music video.

just before the song starts, hiro casually mentions he needs to talk to iwa afterward. “we have a score to settle,” he states simply.

“oh my god,” you groan. “don’t tell me you’re challenging him to an arm-wrestling match.”

“no, i’m over that,” makki assures you, and you let out a sigh of relief, not wanting to console your boyfriend if he lost to hajime at arm-wrestling again.

a sinister smile begins to form, and his beady eyes burn with fire and determination as he shoots daggers in iwaizumi’s direction.

“we’re gonna go shot for shot.”

by the time you stumble back into the apartment you unwillingly left earlier, it’s 6:30 in the morning. the sun peeks out from behind the curtains, and you groan over the fact that you stayed out all night.

you’re drunker than you’d like to admit and you already know your body will regret everything later. this is probably the millionth time you’ve told yourself you’re never drinking again, and yet somehow, you never learn your lesson.

“hey, babe,” hanamaki slurs, and when he catches your attention, he breaks out into a cheeky grin. “i won against iwa, right?”

honestly, you aren’t sure. you lost track of how many shots you and tooru took on their behalf, and there’s no way mattsun would know either—too preoccupied arguing with the waiter because he was convinced he should’ve won the singing competition.

hajime did end up throwing up on the sidewalk, but one look into hiro’s eyes and you’re sure he won’t remember any of this when he wakes up. if anyone else asked, you’d say it was a tie.

“yeah babe, sure,” you dismiss, way too tired to discuss the matter any further.

your legs begin to drag themselves towards the bedroom, and just when the couch was starting to look real good, makki picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you into the bathroom.

“hiro!” you shriek. “what are you doing?! i wanna go to sleep!”

“we gotta get you cleaned up first,” he tells you, setting you down on the countertop. “some of your hair ended up in oikawa’s seolleongtang when you fell asleep at the restaurant after karaoke.”

you’re about to complain and say that you could just shower and wash the sheets tomorrow, but when makki grabs your oil cleanser, you soften.

“you know what that’s for?” you pout.

“not really,” he admits, “but i always see you use it first at the end of the day.”

he pumps two squirts of your cleanser into his palms, and you close your eyes, allowing hiro to gently rub the makeup off. there’s a dopey smile plastered on your face when you realize he’s even going in circular motions, emulating how you go through your nighttime skincare routine.

you’re moved, and honestly very impressed with takahiro, especially since the man washes his face with shampoo.

and to be doing all of this while under the influence? he may be blackout drunk, but at least he’s sweet. and surprisingly very high-functioning.

“alright, let’s rinse this off. i’ll help you wash your hair too.”

“okay,” you hum pleasantly. “you’re the best, i love you.”

“love you too,” he says, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “now let’s go.”

you’re tired—too tired to open your eyes, much less walk, so you hold your arms out and let hiro carry you off the countertop and into the shower. he carefully lets you down, and using the last of your energy, you plant your feet onto the cold tiled floor and stand upright. the shower door shuts behind you, and you’re prepared to get a nice head massage right before bed.

but as soon as the water hits you, your eyes wake with a jolt, feeling something very off. realization quickly hits you as you look down, and you attempt to make a run for it, but hiro catches you before you can jump out of the shower.

you glare up at him, mentally taking back every nice thing you’ve thought about him tonight.

“what are you doing?” he questions, confusion written all over his face. “we need to shower, and i’m not sleeping next to you if you smell like beef soup.”

“hiro,” you warn in-between grit teeth, “do you not see what’s wrong with this picture?”

“what? i’m trying to make sure we don’t go to bed dirty. one of us has to be the responsible one here.”

if you could put your boyfriend’s stupidity into a bottle and patent it, you’d be rich. it has to be the cure for hangovers because you’ve never sobered up this fast in your life.

before you can push the shower door open, hiro grabs your arm in his last attempt to get you to stay.

“aw c’mon babe, let’s have fun in the shower together,” he coos, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. it takes all your strength to hold back your desire to deck him.

“have fun in there by yourself,” you growl as you step out. “our clothes are still on, you dumbass.”

a/n: @fail-big i’ve been thinking about karaoke ever since we talked about singing my boo :((( and also @megumidulce, i’m taking a page outta your book and making oikawa a swiftie who will take any opportunity he gets to sing love story

#haikyuu x reader #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu scenarios #based off true events #unfortunately #I CAN'T BELIEVE I MARRIED THE MAN THAT DID THIS TO ME #but anyway #ugh i miss ktv so much #seijoh 4 would totally make their own boyband at karaoke #i know for sure they'd sing 2PM #omg imagine them all dancing to again & again #written by rin

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cathrrrine · 3 years

Text

RUN | Pietro x Reader

Originally from my Wattpad

CHAPTER 14 - SLUG

"Let's begin with your name."

"You already know my name." I groaned.

"Your real name."

I sighed, "You already know it. My real name is Y/N L/N."

"See? Not so bad." Natasha rolled her eyes as she tilted her head slightly to the left, a mannerism of hers that she often displayed. "Now, your age."

"Oh, that's strictly confidential." I shook my head curtly.

"Y/N..." She warned.

"All I can tell you is that I'm an adult."

She raised an eyebrow in defiance, but she didn't push further. Natasha had brought me to an interrogation room, yet again, but this time it was a different one. It didn't have the big, ugly two-way mirror attached to the wall and instead of hard, uncomfortable chairs, this one had couches. Natasha sat on the one across from me, while I had been instructed to sit on the one with it's back to the wall. The room was annoyingly comfortable, in a way that made me want to vandalise every single object in a room.

It looked like they believed my surrender after all and the change in the way they handled me showed that. For starters, I wasn't in handcuffs. But, to be fair, I guess being in the same room with Romanoff was more than enough security, maybe even more than being cuffed.

Even if I knew I could fight her well.

"I don't need to tell you twice. You lie about anything at all, the deal's off."

It was another interrogation session. Oh my god, I hate that word. I hate even just thinking about it. I've thought about it and said it at least twelve thousand times, and frankly, I've gotten tired of it. If they kept this up, S.H.I.E.L.D would have wrung me dry by the end of the week.

If I wasn't so adamant on surviving, I would've thrown myself off the side of the building by now.

"Don't you think I've been through enough interrogations?" I voiced my thoughts aloud to the redhead in front of me, picking at my nails in boredom.

"There's no such thing as enough interrogations."

"God, you people are scrutinising." That earned me a huff. "And you make me yawn."

"Better safe than sorry, that's the motto." She replied sarcastically. "Next question, how long have you been with Hydra?"

That escalated quickly.

I gulped automatically, not out of fear, but out of habit. "Ever since..." I was born. "For as long as I can remember."

I wasn't lying. But that didn't mean I had to tell the whole truth.

"And you left when?"

"As soon as I could." On my 18th birthday.

"Why?"

"There it is! The hard-hitting question. I've been waiting for that one." This was harder than I thought it would be.

"Why did you leave Hydra?" Natasha repeated the question without a hitch.

"Well, I didn't like it."

"That's all?"

"What do you mean that's all? You don't like something, you leave. Common sense."

She stared at me intently. I've gotta say, she does this thing a whole lot better than Fury. I could technically see the gears in her head turning, calculating every emotion and every word. This woman knew how to play me at my own game. She didn't crack at the silence that ensued. My skin almost crawled at her stare.

Keyword, almost.

"Staring's not going to drag the answer out of my throat, you know." I leaned back on the soft, velvet couch.

They said I had to be honest for them to trust me, but honest hadn't even been in my vocabulary until 12 hours ago. What did they expect me to do? Immediately lose every sense of self-worth and start throwing every single fact about my life, every detail of the trauma that I've endured–to them?

Doing this meant saving my life, but it also meant having to give up at least a sliver of my secrets. Was it worth trading my secrets to these people for my life? Why did the price have to be so goddamn high?

I took a deep breath. "I was 10."

"Pardon?"

"When they first ordered me to kill someone."

I remember the weight of the gun in my small hands, the smell of blood in the air when I shot the man, and the sound of his body thumping on the gravel in the dead of the night.

"I don't remember who it was or why I had to kill him. But I remember enough to know that it was..." I trailed off against my will, the memory getting the best of me. As if the whole situation wasn't already pathetic.

I cleared my throat. "I remember enough to know that it wasn't right. I felt it in my bones."

Natasha stayed silent, willing me to continue. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm an angel or whatever. As I grew up I understood that I didn't want to be associated with these people. Hydra wasn't exactly a paradise, obviously. But it took me a while to understand that. And once I did, I took off."

"And they've been looking for you, ever since?"

"Yes."

"Does that explain yesterday's events?"

Him. "Unfortunately."

"How long?"

"How long, what?"

"Have you been running from them?"

My mind went blank. How many years has it been? Time looked like one long line for me. I mentally calculated the amount of days, months, years that it took for me to hide.

"6, 7? I don't remember how long it's been." I bit down on my lower lip, hard. "No one's ever asked. I never bothered to keep count either."

She nodded, uncrossing and recrossing her legs and shaking out her hair. The redhead woman seemed to contemplate what she was about to say next. For a second there, I was curious. How unsettling could the question be to make her visibly bothered?

When the words spilled out of her mouth, I wish I never wondered. "This is an important question—are you Enhanced?"

I winced. One question, out of all the other ones, was all it took the break the dam that I've built in my head. Memories came flooding back in, in flashes, in the aches of my muscles, pouring mercilessly into the forefront of my brain.

Muffled voices, bright fluorescent lights shining into my eyes, cold-sweats...my head pounded vigorously. I pinched the bridge of my nose, praying hard that I was hiding my discomposure well from her.

Was it worth it?

"You have to be honest, Y/N. We need to know if we can trust you."

Strenuous hands pulling at me, strapping me down, dilated pupils, the whirring of their monstrous machines...

"Yes, Natasha. I am."

———

SIX HOURS EARLIER

"She can't be trusted."

"She's done nothing that says so, so far."

"How do you know that, Maximoff? She's sly. She's sneaky. This could just be another game of hers."

"We could be very well falling into a trap right now."

"Send me in." Natasha crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "I'll get her to tell us what we need."

"I don't doubt your interrogation skills, Nat, but do you really think it's a good idea? I mean, she's a lot like you." Clint remarked.

"That's exactly why I should go." There was an air of mystery to the way she insisted upon it.

They all looked to their Captain for his approval. Steve had both palms on the table, his head slightly bowed. He looked up to his team, eyeing every single one of them before his eyes landed on Natasha's.

"She's right." He stood up straight, mirroring Natasha's pose. "Nat, you bring her to the interrogation room. Do whatever you need to make her talk. Get all the information we need to know about her; her past, her abilities, her name for God's sake."

The redhead nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

"Wanda, I want you to sit in the next room. Read her mind. Make sure she's telling the truth."

"But-"

"Pietro, you go with her, make sure things don't go out of hand. And don't worry, kid. She can't hurt you, especially not when she's basically just waved the white flag."

He paused for awhile before continuing. "If it ultimately goes well...we should let her into the team."

"Are you kidding me?" Tony bit back.

"No. She's an asset. She's got useful information and skills we could put to use."

"Steve. What if she goes rogue, huh? And she decides to wake up one day and kill us all? This is a situation bound to go awry. We can't let a former Hydra agent in just like that." Tony ran a hand across his face before adding another comment. "I made the mistake of giving her the benefit of the doubt before and it only got us in trouble."

Steve pondered upon Tony's opinion for a while before nodding once and announcing his decision. "So, we put her on probation. Let her know that she's not totally off the hook, see where it'll lead."

"Rogers, are you sure about this?" Natasha pursed her lips.

"Yes." He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips, in true Captain America fashion. "Let her know that she'll be pardoned if she tells the whole truth. Maybe it'll encourage her. I'll inform Fury about this whole thing."

The meeting room was silent for a while before the team began to disperse. Steve was the last one to go, but not before Natasha stopped him.

"Rogers. I need to tell you something."

———

PRESENT TIME

She looked surprised, but not as much as I thought she would be. I was expecting a little bit more than raised eyebrows. Maybe even a gasp. "What can you do?"

I chuckled dryly, "Maybe it's better to show than tell."

It was her turn to chuckle, not an ounce of humour in it. "Now's not the time for your sweet little antics. This isn't a talent show."

"Oh, really? Then what is this? I thought I was auditioning for your makeshift boyband."

"Well, maybe if you talked more and sassed less, you'd make the cut."

I shook my head again, slowly. I had to be careful with what I told them. The walls seemed to look duller and the couch I was on felt like a boulder instead of the plush heaven that it was.

"I'm an Echo."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like. I echo people." My hands trembled slightly at the mention of it. "I absorb other people's powers and I amplify it."

This was as much as I've ever told anyone ever since I ran from Hydra. Genuinely? I'm a little freaked out at the fact that I just did so. But it had to be the right decision. I couldn't afford to make another wrong turn.

Besides, I was in control here. I had the choice to tell them what I wanted to tell them and what I wanted to keep from them. I figured they should know that I had that little something up my sleeve this entire time.

After all; they were my only lifeline at the moment.

"Was that how you beat us the night we caught you?"

I thought back to that night, when I ran as fast as Pietro did and broke through the barriers of the Witch's force field. I shrugged, not bothering to please her with a response.

"Tell me more about your past."

I narrowed my eyes at her, "Really, Romanov? Digging for more? I already gave you enough, don't you think?"

Natasha blinked once, but didn't back down. "I ask, you answer. That was the deal, wasn't it?"

The smile didn't reach my eyes when I jut out a grin at her. "What do you wanna know about my past?"

"The basics. Where you're from, how you're here."

"I'm half-Russian." I shrugged. "And you already know how I got here."

"No. I know how you came to S.H.I.E.L.D. We brought you here. What I need to know is how you got into this whole ordeal."

A scoff escaped me, "Is this a therapy session or an interrogation?"

"Y/N."

"No, seriously, you're asking me about things that don't matter-"

"Y/N." She repeated, more sternly.

I tucked my arms to my chest so I wouldn't flinch as I said the words that haunted me.

The ones I knew haunted her too.

"I was born into it." My tongue felt heavy. "They raised me in the Red Room."

For the first time since we started, Natasha Romanoff gasped. It was barely audible, and it wasn't the show-stopping theatre moment I'd been looking for, but it was a gasp in itself. It's funny, though. I thought I'd be more amused. But the heavy feeling that sat on my chest drained all the humour out of me.

Natasha immediately rose from her seat, staring at me with possessed eyes. Her face had gone white as sheet, her lips pale.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me, Romanov."

She sauntered over to me, one foot stepping in front of the other. "Don't you dare lie to me."

"I'm not." My voice was weaker than I would've liked it to be, barely above a whisper. "I was trained in the Red Room. As soon as I was old enough, they shipped me off to the hands of Hydra."

She wasn't listening as intently anymore. Her eyes were locked on mine, but I could tell she wasn't exactly in the room anymore. Her head's probably off in the same place mine was in just a few minutes ago.

"Is that enough for you?"

Just like that, something snapped within her. "Tell me more."

"I already did."

"You're hiding something!"

I stood up so I was level to her height, my eyebrows knitting in anger. "I gave you what you wanted. I gave you the truth."

"No." She shook her head. "I want the full one."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

She trudged towards me, lifting up her shirt so her abdomen was exposed. "Do you know who gave this to me?"

It was a long scar on her hip, positioned slightly to the left of her belly button, the skin raised and bumpy. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"I got this on one of my first missions. I was assigned to escort a nuclear scientist out of Iran." She seethed. "We were ambushed by Hydra at the rendezvous in Odessa. My tires got shot, the car ran off a cliff."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I managed to save us both. But as soon as I did, the assassin who ambushed us open fired. Killed the scientist. Straight through me. Left one hell of a scar." She let go of the hem of her shirt. "A soviet slug."

It was my turn to grow pale. There was only one person who could do that. And I was far from ready to say his name.

"You knew him didn't you? I should've known all along."

"How?" I begged, the somewhat 'calm' demeanour I've tried hard to keep was long gone.

"Does it matter?" Her gaze was threatening. "You were trained by The Winter Soldier, weren't you Y/N L/N?"

#the winter soldier #damn i couldnt wait to write that #run pietro x reader #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #miss romanoff hello maam can u pls step on me? thx #avengers #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #pietro fanfiction

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puppywritings · 4 years

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fidelium - johnny suh x gender-neutral reader masterlist

⇢ synopsis: you can’t wait to spend the weekend at johnny’s house. your boyfriend was a bad boy, and a motorcycle rider to boot. things were new, thrilling. perhaps more thrilling than you bargained for. you come to learn that it’s a lot more difficult to leave than to stay.

⇢ word count: 6.8k ⇢ trigger warnings: death, guns, toxic relationship involving manipulation, objectification, arguments. sexual elements and implied sex but no explicit scenes. ⇢ warning: the relationship displayed in this fic is in absolutely no way healthy or ideal. it’s one red flag after another. if somebody disrespects your boundaries, threatens you, objectifies you, manipulates you, or anything of the sort, they’re not a good person to be around and they don’t deserve to stay in your life. the contents of this fic may be upsetting to read.

⇢ a/n: this is my piece for @du0tine‘s 21 ways to kill your lover collab. intended for 18+ audiences. i also want to say, it’s not my intention to romanticize or glorify toxic, harmful, or abusive relationships - this is purely fiction. this writing also doesn’t reflect the real johnny suh, who i’m sure is a lovely person and would never engage in this sort of behaviour.

taglist: @prettyjaems @ethaeriyeol @1-800-seo @neonun-au (sorry if i forgot anyone i’m super disorganised w my taglists atm)

Johnny Suh didn’t fit your usual dating criteria. With his black leather jacket, heavy lace-up boots, and hulking motorcycle, he was a bit of a bad boy. And there was something exciting in that. You’d met him late one night, in the bar where you worked. You’d served him all night - rum and coke, his drink of choice. He certainly caught your eye, at first. He was handsome, with his brown eyes twinkling and his long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. But it wasn’t until the two of you started talking that you became interested. It was a quiet night, and Johnny insisted on sitting at the bar in front of you. He was teasing, charming. And when he gave you his number at closing time, you actually tapped the digits into your phone, rather than just discarding it like you usually do. Unlike the rest of your patrons who thrust their contact details upon you, when it came to Johnny the interest was mutual.

So, while it was true that Johnny wasn’t quite the typical man you went after, the relationship had been going well. He’d been nothing short of a gentleman in the duration of your relationship, though he still thrilled you with his affinity for the more reckless things in life; late-night motorcycle rides, drinking just a little too much and partying all night. He took the mundaneness out of your life - he made your life an adventure.

Towards the end of your shift that Friday evening, you found yourself getting jittery; you checked the time every five minutes, and a swarm of butterflies was building in your stomach. Johnny was picking you up after work on his bike, and it was all you could think about. You almost ran out of the establishment, when the clock struck ten, marking the end of your shift. Your heart swelled at the sight of Johnny in the bar’s parking lot, leaning against his motorcycle with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, angel,” he greeted you, affection glowing in his eyes and his smile.

“Hi,” you beamed, wrapping your arms around his waist and taking in his warmth. He picked you up immediately, holding you tight and spinning you. “Johnny!” you giggled, fingers grasping the cotton of his white t-shirt.

“You ready to meet my boys?” he asked you, punctuating his question with a kiss on your nose. He was referring to the friends he considered family; he lived with them, in a rather large house on the outskirts of town, from what you’d heard. They were special to him, and you knew it was important to him that you got along with them. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely terrified. You knew it’d be okay, though. If they had Johnny’s approval you were sure they’d be good people. Plus, you could never be too scared with Johnny’s hand in your own.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you responded with a smile.

“Hop on,” he instructed you, tossing you a helmet and putting on his own. At the beginning of your relationship, he’d given you his own helmet, forgoing his protection for the sake of yours. You hadn’t liked this - this display of his reckless attitude that surpassed thrilling and sat nicely in the territory of dangerous - and so you’d pestered him until he bought a second helmet.

You secured your rucksack on your back, prepacked with all the clothes and toiletries you required for the weekend you’d be spending with your boyfriend, before climbing onto the large black bike behind him. Johnny had been driving you around on his bike for a number of weeks now, but you still weren’t quite used to it. The mix of fear and exhilaration, both from the wind whipping past your ears and from the sensation of your chest pressed flush against Johnny’s back, your arms tight around his waist. It made your heart race. The feeling you got from riding a motorcycle embodied everything that Johnny was: dark, exciting, intoxicating, addictive.

Johnny hadn’t been lying when he said he lived on the outskirts. The bright lights of the town centre were far behind you, and even the streetlights had begun to die out. You were alone with the moon and starlight now. The neatly paved roads gave way to rough muddy lanes. The built-up urban surroundings gave way to empty fields, then to a dense and seemingly endless forest. The bike’s headlamp shone a path through the trees, guiding Johnny to his home. Though your partner clearly felt familiar here, the environment sent chills down your spine - you could’ve sworn you felt eyes on you, peering out from the darkness. When your journey ended, at a solitary house looming tall against the dark backdrop of the forest, you were thankful.

“Here we are,” Johnny welcomed you, helping you off the bike. The house was bigger than you could’ve expected. The term mansion wouldn’t be amiss.

“So,” you commented, looking up at the structure, illustrated by the silver moonlight. “This is where you and your biker gang live?” You looked along the line of bikes, queued up around the house. They were of different styles and sizes, though (with your limited knowledge on motorcycles) they all looked rather impressive.

“I keep telling you, we’re not a biker gang,” Johnny corrected you, with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “We’re just a group of friends who live together, and just so happen to ride together too.”

“And if that’s not a biker gang, what is?” you teased.

“Zip it,” Johnny said gently, and you complied. “Here, I’ll take your bag.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you commented, passing it to him. You braced yourself, as he led you into his home.

It was warm inside, much warmer than out in the chilly woodland. From what you could tell by looking at the entranceway, the place was tidy and well-lit. Your boyfriend led you down the hall, into an open-plan kitchen and living area, where Johnny's friends were sitting around the television.

"We're home, guys," Johnny announced, drawing their attention towards you.

"Hey, look what Johnny brought home!" one of them called out, bringing a blush to your cheeks.

"Watch it," Johnny warned, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. "Y/N is all mine. You can look, but you can't touch. In fact, you can only look for five seconds at a time."

“These are the boys” Johnny introduced you to them. “This is Jaehyun, Ten, Mark. And that’s Donghyuck. My protege, right kid?”

“That’s right, John” the boy grinned up at Johnny from where he was sitting.

You gave a shy wave as you looked around at Johnny's friends. Though he had named them all, introducing them, it was a redundant act. You'd asked to see pictures of everybody prior to that night, not wanting to get lost amid a sea of unfamiliar faces. You saw Jaehyun, with his dimples and broad shoulders; Mark, with pronounced cheekbones and a delicate nose; Ten, with a feline-like beauty; and Donghyuck, full cheeks and long eyelashes.

"I think we're just gonna turn in for the night, right Y/N?" Johnny spoke, looking down at you. "See you boys tomorrow."

You waved at Johnny's friends, with a polite, "Bye." The boys chorused their goodbyes back at you, and Johnny led you away.

You couldn't help but admire the house as Johnny guided you to his bedroom, your hand in his. The place was huge, grand. You weren't sure under what circumstances Johnny and his friends acquired this house, but it can't have been cheap.

"And this," he led you inside, "Is my room."

The room was a fair size, with several tall windows and a four-poster double bed. The matching furniture looked sturdy and high-quality, a dark antique wood.

"This is impressive," you told him honestly. Johnny beamed in pride; he was always looking for praise, and you were happy to feed his ego.

Johnny lounged on his bed, laying back propped up on his elbows. "Come feel how comfy my bed is," he invited you with a smirk.

"Johnny Suh, you are not smooth. I know that's just an excuse to get me into bed," you said, falling beside him.

"If you knew it was just an excuse," Johnny asked, pausing to plant a kiss on your jawline, "Then why'd you join me?"

"Because," you tell him, "Maybe I want to be in bed with you."

Johnny gave a low chuckle, before kissing you again; a line beginning at your jaw, trailing down to your neck, and ending at your collarbone, making you gasp and lean into his touch.

"Johnny," you purred, your voice full of want.

"Let Johnny take care of you, baby," Johnny hummed. You obliged, submitting to his touch and surrendering to the pleasure.

Coming down from your high, you collapsed against Johnny’s bed, smiling as you looked up at your boyfriend who lay beside you.

“You’re perfect,” Johnny told you, his dark brown eyes gazing deeply into your own. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you looked away, only for Johnny to tilt your chin back up towards him. “It’s true,” he reiterated.

“I’m not perfect,” you denied, wrinkling your nose.

Johnny pecked your lips. “You are. My angel.”

You looked at him, lying beside you in his bed. His sex hair was immaculate, perfectly tousled from rolling around and from your fingers tugging on it. His lips were plump and pink from your kisses, and his collarbones were decorated in pink splotches. He looked beautiful, he was glowing, and you couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Hey,” Johnny says suddenly, sitting up and untangling himself from the blankets. “Let me give you a massage.”

“It’s okay, babe, you don’t have to,” you waved away his offer. He seemed deadset, however, cracking his knuckles in preparation.

“I insist. Roll over.” You obeyed, lying on your front and allowing your boyfriend to straddle your waist. His hands pressed into your skin, rubbing deeply into your muscles. The sensation was pleasant, you had to admit. Mostly, you just enjoyed the proximity between you and Johnny, and the feeling of being taken care of by someone you loved. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to slip away and ease into the feeling.

You weren’t allowed to slip away for long, however, as your phone began to buzz, startling you. The vibrations against the hardwood of Johnny’s bedside table conjured a harsh screeching noise. You lifted your head, peering at the screen.

You lifted your torso, as much as you could with Johnny’s weight on you. “Oh, it’s my mom. I should-”

“You can call her back later, angel,” Johnny said, pushing you back down onto the bed. The action was gentle, but Johnny didn’t need to use much force to manipulate your body; your boyfriend worked out, and bordered on freakishly strong - at least, in comparison to you. His buff arms held your shoulders down, preventing any movement. "This is my time to pamper you," he explained, resuming the massage.

"Okay," you tentatively agreed. "I'll call her back later." You got the sense that this massage was much more for Johnny's benefit than for yours, but if it kept him happy, then so be it.

“Good morning, angel,” Johnny greeted you. Your eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the light in his bedroom. With a groan, you stretched your muscles, stiff from sleeping. “I brought you a cup of coffee.”

You looked to your boyfriend, smiling at you as he entered the room, a mug in each hand. You couldn’t be sure how long he’d been awake, or what time it was, but he was dressed already, beige cable-knit sweater and loose jeans, with his hair pulled back in a low ponytail. It was a contrast to his usual greaser bad-boy image, and the sight warmed your heart. He looked cozy, soft. You smiled back at him, sitting up and letting the covers pool around your waist.

“Morning, Johnny,” you beamed at him, accepting the cup of coffee he handed to you. You took a sip and moaned in delight. Your boyfriend made a mean cup of coffee, perfectly sweet without being overbearing. He sat beside you on the bed, caressing your cheek lightly.

“I was thinking we could go out for a walk,” he suggested, before taking a swig of his own coffee. “It’s a nice morning.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

A while later, fully dressed and hand-in-hand with Johnny, you found yourself venturing through the forest that surrounded the house. There were a few man-made footpaths winding between the trees, but for the most part, you were truly in the middle of nature, an environment completely untouched by humans. Birds flapped their wings, rustling in the trees, and creatures whose species were unknown to you scrambled to run away in your wake, paws pounding on the forest floor. Johnny had been right; it was a nice morning. The sun filtered through branches and leaves, casting light and warmth down upon you, and the air was clean and fresh.

“It’s so nice out here,” you commented, looking around at the greens and browns that encompassed you.

“Yeah,” Johnny agreed. “I’m lucky to live here.”

“You really are. I’d walk through here every morning if I were you.”

“You’re lucky, too,” Johnny acknowledged, squeezing your hand. “You’re dating me. You can walk here whenever you want as well.” You smiled, your heart swelling at his words.

“It really is isolated, huh? Your house?” you remarked, peering around at your surroundings. The nearest road was so far away that you couldn’t even hear the rush of cars from where you stood.

“Yeah,” Johnny confirmed. “It’s not easy to get out of the house.” Why anyone would wish to escape this peaceful surroundings, you had no idea. It felt so far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life; your usual troubles felt so distant.

The sun had risen higher in the sky by the time you returned to Johnny’s house, and you realised you hadn’t even brought your phone with you. You hadn’t even thought to check the time once since you woke up. This was so out of the ordinary for you, particularly on a Saturday morning, when you’d usually be lounging in your apartment scrolling through social media.

The house had woken up by the time you stepped through the front door. It had been silent when you left, though now it seemed that the entire household was up and about.

“Where have you been, John?” Ten called out, as the two of you entered the kitchen.

“Just out for a walk,” he explained, taking a seat at the kitchen island, where you joined him.

“By the way, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,” Ten greeted you, smiling sweetly.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you returned, smiling back politely.

Johnny leaned in close, stage-whispering. “It’s really not all that nice to meet him. He’s a pretty lousy guy. Into some real weird stuff. Has probably killed a guy.” Ten gave Johnny a pointed glare as he departed the kitchen, and you giggled at your boyfriend’s antics.

“So,” Donghyuck asked, his voice somewhat muffled as he peered into the open fridge. “What do you guys have planned today?”

“Hmm. Not much,” Johnny answered. “Have some lunch, take it easy.”

“I want to shower first,” you announced, stretching your arms above your head. The physical exertion of your outdoor walk, along with your heated activities the night before, had left you feeling a little less than squeaky clean.

“We should do that together,” Johnny suggested, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek, which flamed at his proposition.

“Okay,” you giggled in spite of yourself. Johnny was the only man, since you’d been twelve years of age, who was capable of reducing you to such a blushing, giggling mess.

“Let’s go,” Johnny invited you, smirking as he stood up and held out his hand. You took it, and laughed when Donghyuck fake gagged and Johnny stared at him with daggers in his eyes. You allowed Johnny to lead you, your hand in his, all the way upstairs. After retrieving your toiletries and change of clothes, you joined him in the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

“The lock is funny,” he told you, leaning over you to fiddle with it. “You really have to twist it-” he grunted, “There we go.”

You smiled, bunching up his shirt in your hands and pulling him closer towards you. He looked smug as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips sweet and commanding. Your hands went under his shirt, ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, which tensed delightfully under your touch.

Johnny pulled away, his eyes scanning up and down your body, setting you alight with his gaze. “Why don’t you doll yourself up for lunch, huh? I want to show everyone how beautiful you are.”

“Okay,” you nodded, agreeing to his suggestion. He captured your lips again, and you smiled against his lips. “We need to shower, baby. And no funny business.”

“No promises,” Johnny grinned, his eyes twinkling. When he took his shirt off, however, your request of no funny business went completely out the window.

Sunday morning came all too fast, as your weekend with Johnny came to a close. It had been peaceful, relaxing, a greatly needed recharge, and you weren’t quite ready to return to your regular life. Walks through the city rather than through the woodland, and shifts in the bar all week long.

"I wish you didn't have to leave today," Johnny said, pouting as his fingertip traced shapes along your forearm as you lounged on his bed together.

"I know, babe, me too," you agreed. His eyelashes looked long, fanned across his cheeks as he gazed downwards.

"You should stay," Johnny suggested, a hopeful lilt to his voice. "Just another day or two?"

You shook your head at him. "I'm working all week babe, it's easier if I just go home. I can stay again next weekend."

Johnny sighs, an irritated huff, retracting his hand from your arm. "You don't wanna stay with me?" he asked, looking up at you with hurt in his eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to, John, it'll just be complicated. You'll have to give me a lift to work, and it's so far that I'll have to wake up a lot earlier."

"You don't even sound like you're going to miss me," he pointed out. His voice had a tinge of anger and it frustrated you in turn. He was acting so petty - you hadn't seen this immature side of him before.

"Of course I'll miss you, Johnny," you assured him with a roll of your eyes. "But we can see each other next weekend, okay?"

"Whatever," Johnny scoffed.

"Whatever?" you asked incredulously. "Johnny, you're acting like a child."

"Sorry. Sorry I'm going to miss my partner because they insist on leaving me."

You shifted away from Johnny, swinging your legs off the bed and facing away from him. "This is stupid," you muttered.

"I'm stupid?" Johnny exclaimed.

You rubbed your eyes in frustration. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to." Johnny jumped up from the bed, swiftly storming past you and exiting the room, complete with exaggerated stomps and a hefty slam of the door.

“God!” you cussed, in irritation and disbelief. You couldn’t believe he was acting like this. This side of Johnny, bitter and bad-tempered - you couldn’t say you enjoyed it. If anything, his outburst had only made you want to leave more. You cursed the complete and utter isolation of the place. You could hardly leave and catch a bus - you’d get lost if you even tried venturing out into the woods. Johnny was your ride home, and you didn’t want to face him. You weren’t even sure if he’d oblige, if you asked him to take you home.

You stood, scanning through your options, and your feet led you out of Johnny’s room. Down the hall, to the room you were sure belonged to Donghyuck. You knocked on the door, two uncertain taps.

“Yeah?” Donghyuck’s voice called out from within - bingo. You pushed the door open apprehensively. The room was smaller than Johnny’s, though still a decent size. He had a large television mounted on the wall, hooked up to a gaming system that looked rather impressive, to your amateur perspective.

“Oh, Y/N,” he remarked, sounding surprised and pausing his video game. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you prefaced, stepping into his room and closing the door behind you. “Johnny and I… had a bit of an argument. I was wondering if you could give me a ride home?”

“You fought?” Donghyuck asked. “What about?”

You sighed “It’s nothing. Something silly.” You didn’t particularly want to divulge the details to Donghyuck - you didn’t want to end up badmouthing Johnny to his friends.

“Hey, sit down,” he invites you, patting the space beside him, on the end of his bed. “Come play video games with me. Take a minute to calm down.” You hesitantly joined him, taking a seat on the end of his bed. “Think this through, Y/N, it’s probably not a good idea to storm out.”

You picked up the controller Donghyuck gave you, holding it loosely. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Johnny wouldn’t be happy if I left without saying anything.”

“That guy has a temper,” Donghyuck commented under his voice. You felt inclined to agree, after the way he’d acted that morning.

“How do I play?” you asked, examining the controller in your hands. Donghyuck leaned over, running you through the controls and rules of the game. The other boy pressed play, and you were flung into the game headfirst, forced to learn and adapt to the fast-paced course of the game. You didn’t know how much time passed, but by your fourth round of the game, you were laughing and shouting along with Donghyuck, all thoughts of smothering boyfriends erased from your mind.

“Feeling better, huh?” Donghyuck asked, beaming at you.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding. “Thanks.”

“One more round?”

“I should probably go talk to Johnny,” you denied apologetically. “But thank you.”

“Any time,” he smiled, holding out his fist for a bump, which you obliged.

“Bye,” you bid him, before departing his bedroom and moving down the hall. You stood for a moment, outside Johnny’s bedroom door, taking a deep breath and bracing yourself.

When you pushed open the door, you found Johnny already standing in his room. You approached him slowly and with apprehension, speaking in a calm and gentle tone. “Hey, Johnny? I’m sorry for blowing up earlier.”

“It’s okay,” he assured you. His composure surprised you, after the volume of his outburst earlier. He didn’t look at you, nor did he turn around to face you. He stood before his dresser, apparently very focused on something inside it. “Why were you in Donghyuck’s room?”

Your eyes widened a little. He didn’t sound mad, nor did he have the right to be. But something about the situation, or perhaps about his demeanor, made you feel a little jittery. You didn’t know he’d been watching you. “Oh. Um. He was just convincing me to stay.” You cleared your throat, feeling the need to change the subject. “What are you doing?”

“Come look,” he beckoned you. You joined him, peering down into the dresser which he seemed so enthralled by.

You gulped. The open drawer was like something you’d find in a museum; it was lined with crimson velvet, and several vintage-looking pistols were laid out in it. They ranged in size and style, the smallest being the size of your palm and the largest stretching to the length of your forearm. “I… I didn’t know you had guns.” The sight of them made your heart race. If you were being honest, you’d led a rather sheltered life, and had never been in the presence of so many weapons. It made you feel uneasy.

“I don’t use them. They’re only collectibles.” Johnny picked up the smallest gun, and you flinched. He glanced at you, and the look in his eyes was undetectable to you - it wasn’t offence, nor regret, but his eyes definitely glinted with something. The way he handled the gun, you weren’t sure if you bought the ‘collectibles’ line. He handled it with such ease and grace, that it almost seemed like he was born with a gun in his hand. Though it was small, compact, barely the size of your hand - and it appeared even smaller in Johnny’s palm, which dwarfed it - you found yourself stunned and shivery, thinking about the damage it was capable of. Did Johnny collect bullets, too? you found yourself wondering.

You averted your gaze, discomfort taking over, and noticed that your phone lay atop the dresser. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You weren’t sure where, exactly, you had left your phone, but you were certain you hadn’t laid it there. “Hey - my phone-”

“Oh, right,” Johnny said, placing his gun back in the drawer and closing it sharply, twisting a key which sat in the keyhole, locking it away. “Your boss called. He said you don’t have to work tomorrow. That’s great, right? You can stay the night - you don’t have to leave.”

You nodded, feeling a little sick but faking a smile anyways. “Great.” You were tired, physically and emotionally. You felt bad for even thinking it, but you wanted a break from your boyfriend. You wanted some space. He was making you feel uncomfortable, bordering on unsafe, and you found yourself craving the security you felt in Donghyuck’s room.

“Um, I’m gonna take a shower,” you conjured the excuse for an escape.

“Okay,” Johnny accepted it easily, smiling widely. He wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t be gone too long, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when he released you. You would stay another night; it wasn’t worth upsetting Johnny over.

You had to admit that you felt a lot better after showering. The warm water had relaxed you, along with the familiar and comforting scent of your shampoo grounding you and bringing your emotions to a calmer, neutral level. You were standing before the bathroom mirror, applying moisturiser to your face, when you heard a click. A turn.

The broken lock.

Before you could act, Donghyuck was before you, staring at you with wide eyes. You let out a yelp, turning around, though most of your skin was hidden beneath your towel.

“Fuck, sorry! I’m so sorry! Don’t tell Johnny about this!” he blurted.

“It’s okay,” you responded, cheeks flushed. You weren’t sure Donghyuck had heard your forgiveness, however; you’d heard him dash away while your back was turned. You laugh awkwardly to yourself at the mishap, before closing the door again and making certain to twist the lock properly. It had only been a silly mistake, you reassured yourself. And he hadn’t seen anything, besides your bare shoulders, which was hardly a great reveal.

You shook your head, before drying and dressing yourself. The poor boy had been so flustered, and you had to admit it was sort of endearing.

“Nice shower?” Johnny asked when you returned to his room, lying on his bed atop the covers.

You nodded, joining him on the bed. “I feel so relaxed now.”

He pulled you close to him, kissing your lips gently. “Jaehyun’s making dinner for everyone, it’ll be ready before long.”

“That’s nice of him,” you murmured, laying your head on Johnny’s shoulder. “Poor Donghyuck, though. We had a really awkward moment in the bathroom, I don’t know if he’ll be ready to face me.”

You felt Johnny tense, his muscles going hard beneath you. “What do you mean?”

“He walked in on me showering. I don’t think he saw much, but-”

Johnny sat up abruptly, causing your head to fall back on the bed. “He fucking what?” Johnny hissed.

“Johnny, it’s fine,” you insisted. “I was wrapped in a towel-”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Johnny cursed, standing.

“Johnny,” you spoke firmly, grabbing his arm in a tight grip. “Stop. I said he didn’t see anything.”

“I fucking hope not,” Johnny growled, sitting down once more. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, stroking your face lightly. His hand was trembling. “You’re my angel,” he said. “I don’t want anybody else seeing you like that.”

“It won’t happen again, okay? I’m all yours, I promise.” You placed your hand on top of Johnny’s, soothing him with your touch. His temper, flaring again. This wasn’t something you liked much about Johnny, and you hadn’t been all that glad to meet this side of him. But, you bargained, nobody was perfect - you certainly weren’t. Besides, you had been ready this time; your firm tone and gentle touch had helped to calm him.

Johnny stood up, rubbing his face with both of his hands. You heard him release a shaky breath.

“Please calm down, Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine,” he said, nodding certainly. “I’m calm.”

“Let’s go get dinner, yeah?” You stood, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Yeah,” he agreed, squeezing your hand a little too tightly.

Johnny’s rather sour mood remained all throughout dinner, as evidenced by his clenched jaw and the protective hand he laid on your thigh. His sullen demeanor made him somewhat of a bore to be around, and you found yourself laughing and joking with his friends; you’d be happy to consider Donghyuck a friend, and Mark was hilarious too. Johnny didn’t seem to like this, however. You spent the last portion of the meal in silence, quietly eating and staying close to Johnny’s side.

Even afterwards, as you watched a movie with the group, Johnny refused to relax and let go of his needless worries. Everybody was laughing at the movie, but you couldn’t help but notice that Johnny hadn’t even cracked a smile the whole time. In fact, you didn’t even think he’d been watching the movie; his eyes hardly left you, flitting between your face and your body. As though if he stopped watching you, something horrible would happen. As though he were keeping guard.

He pulled you closer towards him, though there was very little space between the two of you on the couch beforehand. His lips connected with your cheek, before straying down towards your neck. You felt your skin heat up in embarrassment, although all eyes in the room were still trained on the television. Johnny wrapped his arm around your waist, using his strength to lift you onto his lap. You squeaked at the sudden action, earning inquisitive glances from Johnny’s friends, which only fuelled how flustered you were. He held your body close to his, squeezing you. His breath tickled your neck, sending shivers down your spine, before he sunk his teeth into your skin. You hoped your muffled moan went unnoticed, but your eyes were shut tightly so it was unknown to you. You squirmed in Johnny’s lap, thighs clenching together tightly.

In another show of Johnny’s strength, or perhaps just his relative power in comparison to your apparent weakness, he lifted you swiftly. The abrupt movement surprised you, and you gasped sharply.

“Y/N and I are going upstairs,” Johnny announced to the group, and you silently allowed him to guide you away.

“Because,” he continued as you two left the room, “I can take Y/N any time I want.”

“Johnny!” you scolded him, mouth agape with humiliation as his boys hollered in your wake. He ignored your cries of reprimand, scooping you up off your feet with a grin on his face.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered, carrying you away to his bedroom. You sighed in fond exasperation, laying your head against his chest. You condemned his announcement of “I can take Y/N any time I want,” but the fact remained true that he could certainly take you then.

Monday morning. You were growing terribly bored of this big, old house in the middle of nowhere. Spending time with Johnny was nice, when he wasn’t baring his angry possessive side. Although you really liked him, you found yourself wanting some space. And so, when you woke up before Johnny, you left his sleeping form behind, pulled one of his oversized sweaters over your head, and set out to explore the enormous house that had become your confinement.

Nobody else was awake, or so it seemed when you ventured downstairs and poured yourself a glass of juice. You felt itchy, agitated. Even when you settled on the couch, the sense of calm you desired simply refused to fall over you. With an agitated sigh, you advanced throughout the house, exploring the ground floor. You had learned that all the bedrooms were on the first floor, and so you’d been wondering where one specific door led. Off the left of the hallway, aside from the kitchen and living area, and the ground floor bathroom.

The door creaked as you pushed it open, as did the floorboards when you stepped through the threshold. The room was dark, though you identified the furnishings of a study when you squinted your eyes. You moved to the far side of the room, drawing open the heavy red curtains thereby illuminating the space and releasing a cloud of dust at the same time. You waved the cloud away, choking.

There was a sturdy desk, littered with boxes full of clutter, accompanied by a rickety chair that looked like it would fall apart if you put any weight on it. You gasped a silent “wow” as you took in the wall opposite the door, lined with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, crammed to the brim with books of every size. You approached the extensive library, examining the titles. You didn’t recognise anything, apart from a few classics, but it was still an impressive collection. You began to wonder whether one of the boys had inherited the property from an older relative - none of them seemed particularly studious or academic, at least not enough to warrant an assortment of books this great. You trailed a finger along the spines, accumulating yet more dust. The books, much like the room in its entirety, had sat untouched for a long time.

“Boo!”

You shrieked, spinning around with your arms raised in defence, only to sigh in relief and clutch your heart. “Donghyuck! You scared me!”

The boy bent in half, in stitches at the fear he’d instilled in you. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist!” You couldn’t help but join in with his laughter; it was just so infectious. Even minutes later, you were cackling while wiping tears away from your eyes.

“So,” Donghyuck spoke, as his laughter died down. “What are you doing in here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, still smiling. “Just exploring, I guess.”

“I don’t think there’s anything interesting in here,” Donghyuck claimed, looking around at the books.

“Really? It seems like hidden treasure to me.” You peered upwards, at the higher shelves, before standing on your tiptoes and stretching upwards, reaching for an eye-catching book with a golden spine.

“Careful,” Donghyuck murmured, placing a hand on the small of your back to steady you as you strained.

You heard Johnny’s growl, a split second before he entered your field of vision, entering the study and shoving Donghyuck away from you.

“Johnny!” you cried, feeling helpless and out of control as he squared up to the younger man.

Donghyuck had his hands raised in surrender, looking at his friend with concern tainting his expression. “Hey, man, calm down,” he attempted to pacify Johnny.

“Stay away from Y/N,” Johnny yelled, right in Donghyuck’s face

You leapt into action, maneuvering your way in between the pair, palm flat on Johnny’s chest. “Johnny, look at me,” you commanded him firmly. There was a fire in his eyes that you didn’t recognise. It flamed, bright and angry, threatening to burn anything and everything in its path. It scared you, and you resisted strongly against the urge to cower before him.

“Come on, Y/N,” he bit, gripping your forearm tightly. Potentially tight enough to bruise.

“Come on where?” you asked, stumbling as you struggled to keep up. He tugged you out of the room and down the hall, as you tried not to trip over your own feet.

“We’re going for a walk. Put your shoes on,” he demanded, arms crossed, waiting for you to obey.

“I- Johnny- What?” you sputtered. “Can I at least go upstairs and get my coat?”

“No,” he denied flatly. You rolled your eyes, slipping into your shoes. Wasting no time, Johnny pulled you out of the house, slamming the door behind you. You followed after him, your heart pounding with a mixture of uncertainty, anxiety, and speechless anger, as he marched you out into the woods, only stopping when you reached a clearing a good distance away from the house.

“Something’s going on between you and Donghyuck,” Johnny stated with hard certainty, as though it were fact. His face was flushed red, veins prominent along his forehead. He looked at you expectantly, but you had no idea what he wanted in response.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly. You couldn’t help but yell at him. “Johnny, what are you talking about? You’re my boyfriend. I like you. But not when you act like this, Jesus Christ!”

Johnny advanced, closing the gap between you, and you flinched when he regained his grip on your arm. “You need to stay the fuck away from Donghyuck, okay?”

“This is such a huge overreaction!” You tried to struggle away from his grip, but he was far too strong, his will iron.

Johnny leaned in, impossibly even closer to your face. “I brought you here, as my baby, to show you off to all my friends,” he hissed. “And you let them get their grubby little hands on you? I thought better of you, Y/N. I thought you were fucking faithful.”

Your heart raced, pounding wildly with how badly you wanted to get away from him. You didn’t think you could forgive him for this outburst. You just wanted to leave. “You’re fucking insane,” you shouted at him.

Johnny looked disgusted at your words. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Me?” you asked incredulously, finally shrugging out of his grasp. “Me, don’t talk to you like that? Listen, Johnny, I’m not your shiny little toy you can show off to your friends. I’m a human being. And you have no right telling me who I can and can’t talk to.”

“Come here.” Johnny was looking at you, his mouth a straight line, his eyes cold.

“Why?”

“Come here,” he repeated, and you hesitantly took a step forward, afraid to disobey him when he spoke in such an angry, demanding voice. Johnny reached out, gripping you by the arm before spinning you round quickly, pulling you close to him. Your chest was pressed tightly against his back, his arm across your chest, locking you in place. You could feel his heavy, ragged breathing.

“I’m not happy, Y/N,” he jeered, whispering into your ear harshly. “You’re my angel, and you’ve upset me. Maybe you aren’t such an angel after all.” You thrashed, but his grasp on you only tightened. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Johnny, please,” you begged, your voice nothing but a hoarse whimper.

“Let me talk,” he hissed at you. “You’ve hurt me. And I need to show you - I need to hurt you back.”

“What are you- let me go!” You continued to flail in his hold, kicking out your feet but failing to do any real damage to him.

“Shh, it’ll only last a second,” he hushed you, his lips touching your ear and sending shivers down your spine. You felt him fumble behind you, and found an opportunity for escape, but it was no use. His grip on you was iron-tight, unrelenting. Johnny jabbed you in the chest, slightly to the left of your sternum, directly over your banging heart. You looked down, choking on a sob.

One of Johnny’s pistols, the so-called collectible item, was pressing into your skin.

“Right in the heart, Y/N. That’s where you hurt me.”

“Johnny, please!” you cried, struggling in vain. Tears blurred your vision, and spit flew from your mouth as you pleaded with him. “Let me go, Johnny, I’m sorry!”

“Goodnight, angel.”

You heard the gunshot before you felt it. In fact, you hardly even felt it at all. There was a bang, your ears rang, and then nothing. You collapsed, falling limp in Johnny’s arms. His angel.

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creativeashproductions · 4 years

Text

Mountains and Lessons // Luke Patterson

Summary: A bucket list item Reggie had had was to experience a white Christmas. He ended up dying before hand and his opportunity brings up. All Luke wants is music and warmth, not stuck on a stupid mountain in cold Colorado. Alex is excited to get out of Californai for once.

Warning: Swearing, death, angst, Christmas themed but not Christmas and fluff

Words: 4.9k

A/N: Breaks my heart that Reggie potentially never got to experience making snow angels, snow people and join a snowball fight. But my theme appears to be angst so there’s that as well.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Julie had a structured routine and schedule she liked to follow in her life, not strict but definitely a guideline. Monday to Friday, like ever minor, spent the majority of the time in a classroom. After school, she would return home straight to the kitchen for a quick snack before spreading her homework on the kitchen island. The homework was typically one hour before Julie would head out to the studio for band rehearsal.

Flynn, as the band manager, had declared Friday’s to be band free just so that Julie and Flynn could hang out. Saturday’s consisted of morning band practice, the early afternoon had a songwriting session with Luke. In the late evening after an early supper, the band would head to the gig they had gotten. Sunday’s however were strictly days off from the band no matter what, the boys would go their own ways for the day as well.

Today, for the young teenager was a Friday but Flynn had strep throat confining herself to her house. No visitors and her electronics taken away to get rest. It was incredibly dull, and no one wanted to go against Flynn’s words because she could be scary.

Julie had done her homework, did her chores, revised a new song, started a new book and added more doodles to her shoes. Now she was laying on her bed staring at the ceiling with her headphones in.

“Julie?” Ray spoke from her open bedroom door. The man received no reaction with his daughter’s head in the clouds, “Julie? I need to talk to you.”

Ray walked over to his daughter to tug the bud out of her left ear bringing the girl back down to land. The teenager sat up to look at her father.

“What’s up?”

“Can you meet me in the living room?” Ray’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners from the many laughs he had shared in his lifetime. While she was confused, Julie proceeded to follow her father down to the lively decorated room.

Carlos had already been corralled to the living room couch listlessly staring in the distance with no iPad on his person. The lack of electronic was a red flag to the musician, the girl settled on the couch while Ray shifted things on the coffee table.

Once settled on the wood coffee table, he focused on his children, “We’ve always discussed big decisions in our family. We had an open discussion of retracting our initial decision to move.”

“Is this about my bed? I can clean it! I will-“

“Carlos! This isn’t about under your bed, we do need to have a conversation about that young man.” Carlos pointed one finger in Carlos’ direction before addressing the situation, “This year is the first year we’ll celebrate Christmas without…”

“Mom.” Both Carlos and Julie murmured slumping down at the stifling reminder of the loss the Molina’s had suffered.

Julie clenched her jaw, forcing the grief down as her hand crept over to hold Carlos’ hand in comfort. The glittering of his eyes and the gnawing on his lower lip dead giveaways he was losing the battle with sadness. Ever since Julie was a kid, she had always been there for Carlos, not saying they didn’t fight. Evidence as Carlos’ requesting a normal sister.

“It’s going to be different. I got offered an excellent contract by a ski resort, we could potentially renovate the bathroom.” Ray’s eyebrows came together as the touchy topic came about.

After Rose died, it had dented the Molina’s financials with the loss of income, the money didn’t matter compared to the person. When the sun shone through the dark clouds, it had affected the way the Molina’s had to live. Of course, the Molina’s had it better than most with a house over their head and food on the table.

Ray just wanted the best for his kids.

“We could build snowmen?” Carlos gleefully exclaimed beaming at the sheer image of seeing snow in person.

“That’s the thing. The ski resort hosts a handful of parties by companies and clients. The contract is photographing the events for their website. All expenses paid and it could open doors to more clients.”

The idea tore Julie in half. Not decorating the tree with her family, Tia Victoria’s tamales that changed every year and carolling with her friends. A lot of traditions wouldn’t happen that had been constant for the Molina family. New Year Eve’s movie night with Flynn wouldn’t happen; the two girls exchanged wrapped Christmas pyjamas to wear.

On the other hand, the new scenery would distract Julie from the broken Christmas holiday without Mom. Julie always wanted to experience a white Christmas for the snow angels, the snowmen, spontaneous snowball fights, sledding and hot cocoa to warm up after the cold.

In the end, it was the glee on Carlos’ face and the excitement on her father’s that had her caving.

“Let’s do it.” Julie faked her enthusiasm before excusing herself from the conversation of Carlos’ disgusting bedroom.

The young teenager shuffled her way to the studio yearning for the piano to cheer herself up. Typically discovering the guys playing music alone infuriated the girl but at the moment she just wanted to mourn the change of Christmas.

“Hey!” Reggie spoke with a bright grin at the moping teenager. At the lack of reaction, his grin faltered, “Julie?”

Luke’s guitar solo came to an abrupt halt seeing the forlorn girl slumping on the piano bench staring listlessly at the ivory keys. The melancholy aura gave the boys a sick feeling in their bellies, Luke wondered if her grades weren’t at Ray’s standard. Alex wondered if she had a fight with Flynn and Reggie just wanted to hug her.

Reggie did so. His arms wrapped around her shoulders in comfort, and he thanked whatever deity there was at finally being able to hug her. After Caleb and the weird situation, the OG Sunset Curve turned into glow sticks touch had become prevalent. Reggie had a secret handshake with Julie. When Alex got overwhelmed over his anxiety escalated, he would braid Julie’s hair and play with her fingers; when this happened, she never physically touched him unless he asked. Luke was a different story.

Luke’s love language is obviously physical affection, he would hug the living girl, gives high fives, grasp her hand to squeeze it. He’d also sit as close as possible for their legs to touch. It was a way for Luke to feel real.

“What’s wrong, Jay?” Alex asked, approaching the piano to heave himself on top of it. His concerned blue eyes on the teenager.

“This is the first Christmas without my Mom.” She revealed, the desolation drawing Luke to be closer to his friends.

If the boys’ had beating hearts, they would have stuttered and shattered, seeing the sorrow overflow in Julie’s eyes. In a short time, they had spent with her since the first night they had come to care about each other immensely.

“I’m so sorry,” Alex spoke scootching closer to lay his hand on the limp hand resting on the piano top. The smile of thanks warming the drummer inside.

“Dad got this perfect job at a ski resort. It’s good money, and Carlos is excited. I don’t want to spend Christmas somewhere else. I want to be here; I want to go carolling with you guys. I want New Year’s Eve movie night with Flynn, I want to fight Carlos on who gets to put the star on the tree. I want to bake cookie.” Julie broke, “Sure a white Christmas would be cool, but this is home.”

“It’s not about where you celebrate. It’s about who you celebrate with Jules.” Luke quietly spoke up physically with them but mentally elsewhere.

His mind returned to the night in December that irrevocably altered his relationship with his parents’. He had tainted Christmas for himself and his family when he stormed out never to return. He would give anything to spend a Christmas, a birthday, or even a Mother’s Day with his parents just one more time. A consolation to the guitarist was easing his parents’ pain with Unsaid Emily.

“You’ll get to build snowmen?” Reggie questioned pouting at his lifer friend who giggled at his look of betrayal, “I was going to spend Christmas at my uncle’s place in Washington before we died.”

Reggie’s words didn’t change the sombre atmosphere, but it did flip a switch in Julie’s mind. Julie could create new traditions with her new family as well.

“We’ll get to build snowmen.”

“How? We’ll be here. You’ll be wherever the resort it.” Reggie interjected with a twisted smile at Julie’s words. The young girl rolled her eyes at him, “We can’t crash your family vacation. It’s Christmas.”

“Reg, you wouldn’t be ‘crashing’ the family vacation. You three are part of my family.” Julie’s words had to be the most touching thing the boys had heard in years, both the twenty-five dead and from 1990-1995.

“I’m so excited!” Reggie beamed, “I have to go, thank Ray!”

With that, the ghostly teenager disappeared in a bright ball of light to the house where Ray was most likely accepting the job. While Luke and Reggie didn’t know boundaries, they sure could make things better for their friends.

The giggle came from the girl bundled up in layers tossed a packed ball of snow at the enemy behind the other snow fort. The sharp laugh of her opponents warming you up more than hot cocoa, well the layers were unnecessary. But, what’s winter without the bundled up outer clothing.

“Surrender!” You called out throwing the new ball high with the hope it would land on the other person. It hit the top of the wall instead.

Lucy was just about to return fire with one of her pre-made snow weapons when the resort’s main building front door opened. Backlit by the lights giving a heavenly glow was a woman of average height. Greying hair scooped up in an elegant style, and thick clothing stood Lucy’s mom.

Your heart clenched at the visible sadness on the woman’s face as her eyes found the mountain in the distance. It had been a constant in the last seven years of the year-round residents and the plaque on the property. Lucy’s family had never properly healed from the tragic event, but they also could bear to leave the place either.

Fox & Hare Ski Resort had been in the ownership of the same family for over a hundred years, a place of happiness. A place where Lucy had loved as a massive fan of skiing and wintertime, Lucy was excited for this year the most. It was Lucy’s third year of lessons with a very well respected and highly sought out trainer.

“Bye!” Lucy spoke to the now standing young adult. Her little feet dashing to the main building for supper with her parents.

Your eyes found the parking lot as a car pulled up to one the spaces reserved for staff; his looks matched the temporary photographer. With him was a young boy and a teenage girl about your own age. All bundled up for the cold climate, but you were most surprised at the sudden appearance of three males.

They had to ghosts. If the teleporting wasn’t obvious enough, it was the lack of warm clothes. For God’s sake, one of them didn’t even have sleeves.

“Hm interesting.” You hummed scrutinizing the trio following the other three aimlessly to the building. You pegged them as about your age with a very vintage style in both fashion and hairstyles.

The luggage clicked on each transition to another board on the porch ramp for accessibility a welcome sound. Just another daily occurrence that brought peace to the individual. Unable to hold yourself back, you quickly scooped up three snowballs.

The first hit the taller boy in the back of the head. When his head swivelled, he couldn’t see the person that did it. Shaking it off, he turned back to view the mountain. Sprinting to the vast sea of trees you stopped halfway to chuck the second snowball. It hit the guy in the leather jacket.

You ducked behind the tree when he loudly protested the sudden attack. With a wicked grin, you went to send the third one before you yelped.

“Nu-uh.” The sudden voice spoke clicking his tongue. Slowly turning you saw the last boy staring you down, “You should have left Reggie for last. He’s very loud, he’s a personal alarm.”

Your mouth opened as the other two appeared, “I’ve never had a snowball fight before!”

You took a guess that was Reggie.

“I’m Y/N.” You spoke holding out for hand for the three to shake. They each introduced themselves; your first hit was Alex, the second was Reggie, and the failed hit was Luke.

“What brings you to Colorado?” You asked shoving your hands in your snow pants bouncing on the heels of your feet. The crunch of snow under them unfamiliar to the trio.

“Our band member is staying here for two weeks. Her dad got a photography gig.” Alex spoke, scanning the area, “So, are you a ghost?”

“I’m a tour guide and area expert.” You beamed revealing a big smile to the three guys standing in the powdered snow.

The cheery light in your eyes, easing the ghosts in the unfamiliar landscape, each a juxtaposition to the climate. Nodding towards the rental shop, you guided them into the average-sized building for the necessary winter wear. Seasoned with your background working in the shop, you quickly grabbed items that wouldn’t be noticed for them.

“We don’t nee-“

“Gotta live the experience. I used to work in here, so I’ve taken the liberty to group your gear. Alex, you have light blue and pink. Reggie red and black leaving the dark blue for Luke.”

You wore a seafoam green ski jacket and matching snow pants paired with the trusty black boots. While the boys dressed in the clothing you chose, you collected your things as well. As soon as they finished, they turned to see you had a snowboard lilac to the dark purple-black gradient. On the top of the board in the middle had a moon with the white foam of the ocean. On the lilac background, the deep purple cut the moon in half, the deep purple background had the lilac moon half. The black had a rough outline of a circle similar to the moon on the front with BURTON in the ring.

“I had a different board.” Your smile faltered, remembering the beautiful board your parents had gotten you for your birthday.

“What happened to it?” Luke questioned scanning the room for the board.

“It snapped in half.” You stated practically skipping out the door, “C’mon! I wanna teach you how to kill it on the mountain! Have you ever done this? Skiing or snowboarding?”

“Neither,” Alex spoke glancing around the area as you led them to the Gondola lifts that brought people to the top of the mountain. This one specifically for the beginner levels perfect for the three new friends, “We’re born and bred in California, never got the opportunity to travel outside the state.

“Well, I’ll try my very best to give you a good experience on the mountain..”

Once released from the Gondola, you jogged to the side giggling at the sight of them struggling to walk in the heavy boots. Near the Gondola, the area was the shift ski patrol building with the heated bathroom. The building along with the bench had been a new addition a few years ago. It never failed to halt you to stare at it for a handful of seconds.

“Okay, so we’ll start with the basics.” You announced clapping your hands together in the thick mittens.

Alex picked up the activity naturally with confidence and calmness he couldn’t even remember last feeling. He had to focus on his movements and directions, giving him a welcomed break from his overthinking. Luke had started his angry pout with his accurate portrayal of newborn Bambi.

“I’m just going to take a break,” Luke muttered wheezing from his sudden position staring at the sky. Taking pity on the Californian boy, you pressed the release function on his boots.

“I think Reggie’s at the ski patrol building.” You called to the boy with the fringe sulking in the direction of Reggie. It left you with Alex learning new hacks to the board.

“This is fun!” Alex shouted, raising his mouth to the sky, “Ooh Willie would love yelling up here.”

“Ghost?” You asked, receiving a nod in response, taking the time to sit down with your knees raised—the board on the edge still connected to your boots.

Alex flailed as he copied you taking in the sunset, backlight the buildings slowly turning their nights one at a time. The large main building would have a fire for everyone with supplied hot cocoa. Tomorrow the mountain would be less populated with the first of many Christmas parties. The crisp air welcomed high above the buildings you felt peace.

“Is it safe to get off the mountain at night?” Alex asked, hugging his knees to his chest, tilting his head to look at your profile.

The smile was small but warm on the girls face as Alex took in her features that had a particular contentness that is hard to attain. Alex could see in Luke when he finished a song he would deem his best work before the next song. Or Reggie at a beach bonfire with the ocean crashing faintly behind Luke’s acoustic guitar.

“Yeah.” You replied smoothly removing your board from your boots to carry it to where Luke and Reggie were. You backtracked to ensure Alex released his boots; his fast learning evident when he stood with a proud smile.

Alex and you both surveyed the area for any lost items or gear you may have forgotten about, coming up clear you continued walking. Reggie and Luke were laughing with their skiis neatly put aside. Hands locked in a fierce game of rock, paper, scissors they looked childlike and untouched by life’s hard teachings.

“I’ll put my board in the Gondola. Be right back!” You called over your shoulder. Alex looked over his shoulder to reply, but the space was empty.

“She moves fast,” Alex muttered shaking it off to jog closer to the boys. He was close to sitting down on the bench when it caught his attention.

“Whoa. That’s nasty.” Alex spoke, gaining his bandmates attention to the bench they had overlooked.

The bench was made out of two snowboards in stone and wood combinations with a gorgeous design. Pieces of the snowboard made to look like a nearly finished puzzle—a plaque on a thick post behind it.

“For the girl who changed the sport for women. Fast like a fox, as graceful as a swan, may you guide lost souls to safety.” Reggie read off the plaque. Luke’s fingers went to brush the ice and snow clouding the picture above the words.

“You guys coming?” You yelled from a distance startling all three intrigued teenage ghosts. Their eyes glanced at the edge of the board in the picture that matched the bench.

“Thanks for that by the way,” Luke spoke gesturing to the area as the Gondola moved down the mountain. His eyes greener in the dimly lit enclosure that shadowed your flustered features at the sole attention.

“I’m on the mountain every day. It was fun talking with people my age.” You informed them pleased to sit in the silence. The three took in the sunset from the height with no buildings blocking the view, “If you can’t find me, I’ll be on the mountain.”

Once back on the bottom of the mountain, the four teenagers snuck the equipment in your personal shack to dry and keep hidden for future lessons. The three guys bid farewell to find Julie in the large cabin, each with beaming smiles and stories to tell the girl.

“Where’ve you guys been?” Julie asked the ghosts in the tucked-away corner near the massive fire ceasing her scribbling to look at them, “Usually I can’t shake you. I had to sit through a safety talk by the director for the mountain.”

“This wicked girl taught us how to snowboard! She’s so cool, Julie. There’s this passion in her when we got on the mountain. The passion that we all have for music!” Luke gushed, breaking his cool guy personality, “She’s so patient.”

“What’s her name?” Julie laughed, getting a first-hand look at Luke all crushed out on someone. His cheeks a rosy pink and soft eyes it amused Julie just imagining the number of love songs he would pen.

“Y/N.” Luke sighed slouching against the wall, “She’s so pretty.”

“-once more, I ask that you check every morning and afternoon for weather conditions, the local Avalanche Information Center website and be aware of our maps for potential avalanche areas. We have a live app that gives updates as well. Just a reminder that I’m Susan and you can also have the ski patrol contact me for further information. Enjoy your stay!” Susan called out gracefully cutting through the crowd to Lucy falling asleep in her chair.

”I heard some lady talking to her friends that the safety regulations and rules increased after an avalanche killed someone. I didn’t catch the name, but it took weeks before they found the bodies, they found the board in a few days.” Julie supplied with a half-smile at another reminder of death.

The three boys had a moment of clarity. They put the pieces together that the bench made of the boards was in memory of the person who died. It was a bitter moment of potentially standing where a person tragically killed with no warning.

“Anyway, I have to meet Dad and Carlos in the room. Have to video call Tía as her stressed wishes for not being home.” Julie sighed, pushing her feet into the slippers, she left the dino ones at home, she had grabbed from the room.

A few days into the Molina’s white Christmas it had been a charming morning thus far. The guys had done a songwriting session for most of the morning. Luke’s eyes continued to scan the room for you as he had since the first day. He had yet to see you inside, if the ghostly trio wasn’t on the mountain with you, then you were playing with Lucy.

Julie and the Phantoms had retreated to the suite the Molina’s had been assigned when the weather looked questionable. Most of the tourists had either stayed in their rooms, cabins or in the main building. It led to Julie taking the session to the privacy of the suite to avoid looking like a crazy person.

“I need to stretch. Walk?” Reggie asked, gaining different sounds of agreement from the band.

The four individuals walked to the main lounging area where a crowd formed around the makeshift stage. On it was Susan shaking in her husband’s arms.

“Please, has anyone seen Lucy?” Susan sobbed, “She’s ten years old. She’s got blue eyes, ginger hair and she’s small for her age.”

Julie joined her father near the crowd, where he swiftly brought his eldest child into his arms with Carlos. Ray’s heart clenched at the thought of his kids going missing like the owner of Fox & Hare owners.

“Dad’s what’s going on?” Julie questioned viewing the blownup picture of a little girl, the perfect split of her parents.

“Susan Fox’s daughter Lucy didn’t show up for breakfast. They thought she was playing just outside the building. No one has seen her. There have been warnings of avalanches, and the mountain was closed twenty minutes ago. ” Ray told his daughter squeezing her once more cementing his gaze on the couple, “It’s devastating to them.”

“Why?” Julie questioned for the concerned ghostly trio at her side.

“A few years ago, Susan and her husband closed the resort for a few months. They completely gutted their regulations and worked closely with avalanche experts. They upgraded the area for increased safety and reworked the rules and regulations.”

“What does it have to do with Lucy?” The Puerto Rican girl questioned furrowing her brow in the same way her mother had. Julie had scrapped back her hair into a half-up ponytail this morning.

“They did all that because they lost their daughter in a slab avalanche when Lucy was three. Slab avalanches are the most dangerous type, they make up 90% of avalanche deaths.” Ray sighed, staring up at the snow-capped looming mountain, “It took weeks to recover her body, there’s a bench on the mountain where she loved to snowboard. She was training for the Olympics actually.”

Luke’s attention faded from the conversation recalling that you would be on the mountain at dawn to watch the sunrise. In the sudden motion, Luke stumbled over his own feet heading straight for the shack. His mind is numb as he applied the gear to his body, the movements keeping him from panicking. Luke sensed rather than saw Reggie and Alex behind him.

“What are we doing?” Alex questioned, getting dressed as well.

“Going to the mountain.” Luke was very determined. Catching Reggie’s confused gaze Luke roughly gestured to the far corner, “What’s missing?”

“Y/N’s gear.” Alex and Reggie breathed physically shaking at the desolate area where a gorgeous board usually was. That lit a fire under their asses for sure, grateful for poofing they appeared on the mountain.

Scouring the white background, Alex pinpointed a speck of seafoam green running for a speck of bring pink and yellow. In the fear they had taken to sprinting in the bulky boots as if they felt something about to happen.

Your attention solely on Lucy, “Lucy, we need to leave now.”

For Lucy, the mountain was her life, it had been one of the things that her older sister lived and breathed for. All Lucy wanted to do was to be like her big sister. Lucy had the potential, her moves and posture striking to the late sister.

“This is the best trail!” Lucy stomped her black boot in the snow while her other one secured in her snowboard.

“It’s also one marked off for an avalanche.” You hissed to the little girl staring up with tear-filled eyes, “Please, go back.”

The unmistakable ‘whoomph’ sound shattered the otherwise quiet area freezing Lucy in her steps. The once stubborn ten years old turned petrified at the sheet of snow coming straight for the two girls.

“Slab avalanche.” The words covered by the snapping of trees. Your arms yanked Lucy up as you raced perpendicular to the moving snow.

Your ears couldn’t distinguish between Lucy’s screams, your screams or even the loud sound of the destructive avalanche. The alarm and terror drowning your insides, leaving no room for thoughts, only actions. Lucy’s small stature and the years you had on the location helped to dive into a safe zone.

Even in the safe zone, you raced further to collapse with Lucy’s inconsolable body quaking in absolute distress. The tears of relief fell down your face as you leaned against the bench of the memorial. Your head thumped the bench causing a puff of snow to fall on your hat.

“Holy shit.” The sob of words from Luke came before his arms wrapped around you. With being able to touch Julie, the guys didn’t get alarmed at the sight.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Alex frantically scanned the little girl before moving towards you in the same amount of fear. Reggie rendered speechless at the events.

“What the hell were you thinking!” Luke shouted, lunging away to stare you down. Tears streaking his own cheeks, “You’re also preaching the safety rules of the resort. You definitely read the reports and decided to come on the mountain?”

“Luke,” Reggie mumbled remaining the only one standing. His words went ignored, “Luke! LUKE!”

“What!?” Luke snapped resulting in the bassist flinching at the stark memory of his home life, “Sorry, Reggie. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think Y/N was ever in danger,” Reggie stated, bringing both confused boys to where he stood.

There above the bench uncovered by the snow that melted on Y/N’s thick toque was a picture. Above the quote was a picture of a girl holding the snowboard the bench was made of. Wearing a unique matching snow set was the exact replica of the girl Luke had fallen for.

“Holy shit.” Luke and Alex murmured gaping at the picture and the name of the girl who had died.

Luke recalled things you said,

“I used to work in here.”

“It snapped in half.”

“It was fun talking with people my age.”

Luke’s mind went a step further recalling the first lesson you gave the guys where you went from the bench to the Gondola in a short time. How people didn’t react to you, the ski patrol that ignored you every time on the mountain with them.

“You’re the daughter that died in the avalanche.” Luke gasped, dropping his jaw nearly to the snow-packed ground.

“Exactly seven years ago today.” You replied, keeping your eyes glued to your little sister yearning to comfort here, “Reggie, can you go in the building and press the red button? It’s a signal sender for people sheltering from the conditions.”

Nothing could meet the feeling of your parents weeping along with Lucy after the medic deemed her okay. While you wish you could join the hug, you also knew that things happened for a reason. The feeling that same with kissing Luke could never meet the level of happiness at Lucy’s safety.

I came close to killing ten year old Lucy in this but decided not to be cruel.

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #jatp luke #jatp fanfic #caitsy and ash productions

156 notes · View notes

uncomfortabun · 3 years

Text

MHA characters as Citizen Soldier songs, because... I can

My hc for these guys just fits these angsty lyrics, so

Kaminari: Would Anyone Care – “Would anyone chase me And say the words that I need to hear? That I'm no burden Not so worthless Bent so much that I just might break”

Bakugou: Unbreakable – “I will not lay down and die I have the will to survive You'll see this mountain I climb Has made me an animal stronger than you'll ever know”

& Face To Face – “I'm not ashamed of who I was You'll never take this fight from me You'll see I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees”

Touya: Say Goodbye – “Don't you pretend you ever cared You cut me down so far I fell beyond repair”

Hawks: Hand Me Down – “There's nothing quite like this abuse Of feeling like I have no use Stuck in a life no-one would choose”

Aoyama: Never Ending Nightmare – “I've been getting so tired of holding the line The price that I pay to survive seems so high and I I am raising my white flag tonight”

Shouto: Hope It Haunts You – “You stole my sanity I'll never be the same I hope it haunts you”

Kirishima: Stronger Than My Storm – “The rock bottom only got me higher Won't be a victim, I'm a survivor I refuse to believe the liar in my head The proof is stitched in my scars I'm strong enough, I'm strong enough”

& Just Be Happy – “Say it to me, say it to me If you want me to break then tell me to just be happy / I wear this smile on my face You left me with razor blades Your work of art you hate it Till you painted over my pain”

Hagakure: Always December – “No one sees But it's always December in me No matter where I go it's pouring rain In my head seasons never change”

Shigaraki: Gunshot Lullabies – “I don't feel at all Like I did when I was young And I despise This world I see through blood shot eyes

Midoriya (@ young Izuku): Let It Burn – “All this hell you have lived and seen Drown it all in gasoline Then light a match, pull the pin You are not who you've been The past is just lessons learned Light it up and let it burn”

& If These Scars Could Speak – “If these scars could speak You would know my pain And all the demons hiding in my rage If these scars could speak”

Tokoyami: Devil Inside – “In the middle of the night, it wants my soul Fighting for my life, but it won't let go Throw me in the fire, fire, fire Leave me here to burn, burn the devil out of me”

Koda: I’m Not Okay – “I have so much to say And no one to hear it The reason I keep quiet With so much at stake I always feel like a burden, let it silence me”

Toga: Mess Of Me – “I'll breathe in, I'll breathe out So sick of holding it down Where no one sees This mess of me”

Jirou: Empty Cup – “I sit alone, your judgment sinking in Always on trial in my head Like I am less than human for feeling this You'll try to fix me 'til I'm dead”

Aizawa: Isolate – “The darkness is my one escape I'd rather be Numb everyday Than live with what's been done to me”

Oboro/Kurogiri: If I Surrender – “So let me fall, let me break Under everything unsaid Just let me die 'cause I can't take Living with what's in my head If I surrender, surrender To the monsters in me Will it set me free?”

Uraraka: Sacred – “If this day was your last Could you hold your head high? Could you live with that?”

1A @ those heroes that just up and left when things got rough, leaving kids to fight for the country: First Blood – “Drowning in your self-obsession You'll lead us all to hell Bridges built for centuries now You're quickly burning down”

1A @ Deku: Found – “But hold onto me You will be found You will be saved Just hear me now I've felt the same”

All Might: Weight Of The World – “Feel the weight of the world Over me, tonight If I break, if I break down this time Hope you know I tried”

Shinsou: Bedroom Ceiling – “When I'm at my worst and I'm so ashamed I open up and nobody stays Oh no, am I that messed up? 'Cause I trust this room more than anyone”

Stain: Thank You For Hating Me - “Thank you for making me Stronger than I thought I could ever be Thank you for hating me”

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ahkaahshi · 4 years

Text

11:00 PM [kita shinsuke]

pairing: kita shinsuke x fem reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): just a hint of cursing

word count: 2.1k

overview: you learn more about kita with every evening stroll the two of you take together

At 11:00 PM on the dot, Kita arrives at your front door with a knock for the evening walk he said he wanted to take with you. Of course, he’s always right on time, whereas you’re tripping over the sweats you're pulling up as you rush to the door to answer it.

“Hey Shin,” you greet him a bit more breathlessly than you would’ve liked. His dark gaze meets your own (e/c) one before drifting down to where your hands are still adjusting the waistband of your pants. A small chuckle bubbles in his throat once he’s gathered that, as per usual, you’ve gotten prepared at the last possible second.

Swooping down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, he asks, “Ready to go now, sweetheart?” Your body flushes with warmth at the tender pet name that leaves his lips, though it’s been spoken before many, many times, and you nod. “Don’t forget yer jacket.” He grabs it from the coat rack near the doorway and slides it over your arms for you in another one of his kind gestures before you bend down to tie the shoelaces of the sneakers you’ve stepped into.

After shoving your keys into your pocket and locking up, you wonder, “So, where do you wanna go?”

His warm palm slides against yours, prompting your fingers to weave themselves between his as he shrugs. “Not sure.”

“Kita Shinsuke? Not sure? Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” you tease, mocking surprise in a way that brings another smile to his face.

“How’s the park up the street sound?”

“Ah, there he is.” You give his hand a playful squeeze and move closer to him as the two of you make your way out of your apartment complex, into the cool, dark night.

In spite of your earlier teasing and urge to grill your boyfriend about his intentions behind suggesting that the two of you go on a walk at a time when he’d usually want to be settled down in bed, you find comfort in the silence that fills the air. In between the whistles of chilly gusts that sweep over your cheeks and past your ears, you can hear the leaves of the trees above you whispering as they brush against each other and the gentle hum of the still bustling city in the distance.

Due to your housing situations and busy schedules, the times when the two of you get to fully enjoy each other’s company without any distractions are relatively few and far between. He understands and appreciates the value of the time he’s spending with you now, as he always does, by walking with a slow and relaxed pace rather than a quick, rushed one. It’s refreshing, you think, to simply stroll down the sidewalk with a destination in mind but no scheduled time for when you have to arrive, and Kita seems to feel the same way.

There’s an ease to his demeanor that you can sense, and which quiets your own thoughts for a few minutes. You enjoy seeing him this way since you understand the mostly self-inflicted burdens Kita likes to place on himself with his ideals and expectations of the way his life should be.

Beneath the pale, fluorescent lights in the park, his hair glows a haunting shade of white that makes you wonder, for a moment, if this whole experience is just some fever dream. If you’re really just fast asleep in your bed, so desiring of your boyfriend’s company that your subconscious has manifested him. But a glance he sends down towards you accompanied by the sensation of his warm lips against your temple reminds you that—thankfully—everything you’re experiencing just happens to be a pleasant part of your reality. A tender moment that will soon become a fond memory in time.

His hand unclasps yours for a moment as the two of you gravitate towards the swings hanging in the middle of a sand pit nearby to sit down. The cool plastic of the seat seeping through the rear of your sweatpants makes you shiver slightly, and you use your legs to rock yourself forward and back as your hands wrap around the chains keeping it suspended.

When you turn your attention to your boyfriend once more, you find that his gaze is glued to the playground nearby, as if he’s trying to find his thoughts hiding somewhere amongst the metal structure. Before you can ask him what’s on his mind, he gives you the answer. “Remember our high school team’s motto?”

With a small chuckle that sends a small cloud of steam into the air in front of you, you answer, “Ironically enough, yeah. Why?”

“Remember how I always disagreed with it?”

“Of course.”

He sighs a deep and heavy sigh, as if there’s a giant weight on his back pushing all the air in his lungs out at once. Dark brown eyes turn away from the play structure to focus on yours instead as he mentions, “I remember thinkin’ how disrespectful, in a sense, it was to ask a question like that. Who needs memories?” His light hair shifts against his forehead as he shakes his head in a self-deprecating manner. “But now, I kinda wish that I’d appreciated it a bit more. Memories help you grow, shape ya into the person you wanna be, ‘nd all, but they make it impossible to live a life without regrets.”

Your heart sinks in your chest at his words, and you somewhat instinctively reach across the gap separating your swings to latch onto his hand. He shows his appreciation towards your action by ensconcing yours in both of his, surrounding it in warmth. “Is there something you regret?” you wonder softly, voice barely above a whisper.

A low, contemplative hum echoes behind his lips as he presses them to your knuckles. “Not regret, per se, but wish I did differently,” he admits, “I wish I’d allowed myself a bit more freedom back when I was a teenager. I mean, I appreciate havin’ routines, of course, since they help give my actions a sense of purpose and meaning, but I really don’t think my life woulda turned out much different if I’d’ve let myself go a bit more ‘nd been less concerned about makin’ some of those stupid, teenage mistakes, ya know?”

“Stupidity doesn’t have to be limited to your teenage years. Just look around you. It’s everywhere, at all ages. You still have a chance.”

He snickers. “I know, sweetheart. But what I’m sayin’ is that a little bit of spontaneity wouldn’t’ve hurt me back then. Wouldn’t hurt me now, either.”

“Well,” you say with a devilish smirk as you scoot out of the swing, your shoes sinking into the sand when you stand up once more, “it’s a good thing I’m here, then, ain’t it?” Maintaining eye contact with him, you saunter over to him and slide your hand out of his before moving your head towards his. Placing your palms on his shoulders prompts him to lean down closer to you, and you murmur, “What do you say to a friendly game of tag, huh? Because—” you turn on your heels quickly and shout over your shoulder—“you’re it!”

Without turning to look behind you again, you sprint through the sand towards the grass field nearby to put as much distance between the two of you as you can. Over the sound of your own breathing and the wind whipping past you, you’re sure you can hear the clinking of metal indicating he’s left his seat on the swings to pursue you. Sure enough, a few moments later, you feel a firm tap against your shoulder that marks a switch in your roles. When you whirl around to find him, he’s already jogging away, a small smile playing on his lips as he casts a sneaky glance over at you.

“You’re too damn fast, Shin!” you whine breathily as you run after him.

He replies, “You’re the one who wanted to play, (f/n).”

Eventually, after a series of fake outs and narrow escapes, you manage to tag him again and sprint away. However, while you bolt across the grass, you feel droplets of water splashing against your skin that start out small, but soon grow larger and larger. “It’s raining!” you squeal, abandoning your mission of running away from your boyfriend to make a beeline for the gazebo you spot not too far away.

As you speed through the field, you feel Kita’s hand wrap around yours, keeping you close to him while he runs with you. Upon reaching one of the tables tucked beneath the metal roof of the small structure, you plop down onto a bench and try to recover from your sudden stint of exercise. Clearly, as a result of the spontaneity, you hadn’t thought the entire thing through; because if you had, you might’ve decided on a different game given how spry Kita is.

“Truce!” you breathe heavily, waving a packet of tissues from your pocket up in the air as a white flag.

He laughs at your quick surrender but accepts it, nonetheless, and seats himself beside you. As he watches you flash a bright smile at him while you work on slowing down your breathing once more, he feels heat rush through his body in a wave that radiates from his chest. His heart thumps quickly, but not just with exertion, and the sound echoes in his ears over that of the rain hitting the earth as the heavens open above the two of you.

“What’re you looking at me like that for, huh?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him rather teasingly in spite of the butterflies flitting around in your stomach.

Placing one arm over your shoulders to bring your warm body closer to his while his other hand comes to rest on your cheek, tilting your chin up towards his face, he makes a simple yet powerful proclamation: “I love you.”

He kisses you harder than you think he ever has before you can respond. It’s searing, the sensation of his lips on yours, and you’re robbed of your breath in what feels to be an instant. The quiet gasps of air you take each time your lips part for a few, painstaking seconds is lost beneath the downpour of rain pounding on the metal roof and the pavement surrounding the gazebo. You melt into his arms and drape yours around his neck to keep the distance separating your faces to a minimum. It’s been too long since you’ve shared a kiss this intense and passionate, and you both lose yourselves in the moment, choosing to focus on the now rather than the then or the next.

However, just as quickly as the sudden torrent of rain comes and goes, his kisses grow gentler and softer until his lips disconnect from yours entirely to trail along your cheek while he pulls you into a tight hug. Breathlessly, you tell him, “I love you too,” as you nestle your face in the crook of his neck and relish in the familiar comfort he always brings. “What brought that on, though, baby?”

“Just felt like kissin’ my girlfriend, is all.”

You chuckle against his skin before moving your head away from him so you can plant another, tender kiss on his lips that he reciprocates without hesitation. When you pull away again, you both take a quick look at your surroundings to see droplets of rain still pattering against the now soaked pavement. Its sudden arrival seems to be an unspoken invitation for the two of you to stay out longer and enjoy each other’s company, so you suggest, “Wanna wait it out?”

“Yeah,” Kita answers with a nod, raising his hand to brush a few strands of dampened hair away from his eyes. Shooting him a small smile, you rest your head on his shoulder and allow him to welcome you back into his arms.

“Do you have any other regrets, Shin?” you ask as you watch the rain form patterns of ripples across the puddles pooling on the paths.

“I think sayin’ I wished I did things differently earlier was a bit harsh.” The hand he has around your waist gives you a gentle, affectionate squeeze. “At the end of the day, I don’t regret how I lived my life because all the things I did somehow led me to you.”

His lips meet the crown of your head before he continues, “And all of my favorite memories are the ones I’ve made with you.”

when night falls masterlist ⭐︎ treat me to a coffee!

taglists (send an ask to be added to the when night falls taglist!)

when night falls: @aoyukai, @why-aminot-dead, @yamagucji, @toutorii, @shibayamasbae, @tsukkisbean, @devlovesiwa-channn, @captain-shittykawa, @ghblh, @postsfromthe6, @omibaby, @deerixiie

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus, @tendo-sxtori, @krynnza

kita: @pretty-setters, @misora-msby, @heyhinata, @caxsthetic

#haikyuu x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #x reader #reader insert #hq x reader #fran writes hq!!#ahkaahshi//wnf

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