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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

Hi its me again from the comments😋you said if i wanted a part 2 for 'you want to sleep on the floor' i should put it in your asks i dont know if you write nsfw but could you put some in it the rest is up to you😊btw i love your writing so much the fluff that your write just literally brightens my day and remeber i love you🥺 and you are an awsome person🥰😅

part two: “you want to sleep on the floor”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: pro hero bakugo, university student y/n, fluff, language and nsfw (protected sex, praise, hella jaw grabbing, nipple play, hickies, bruises, female receiving oral, dacryphilia)

word count: 5400+

a/n: please don’t ask how this became so long lmao and thank you so much bby i’m glad you like it and your an even more amazing person and i love you moree

summary: in which bakugo takes you on that date he promised you and leads your roommate to be the one to hear all the moans and screams

part one

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The stress you had gone through all day to find an outfit, even if it had been hours since waking up. Your mind still went back to last night, the kisses against your neck and mouth from Bakugo. You had seen him leave from your apartment when you had been drinking some coffee on the balcony. Even if it had been cold, you didn’t care, leaning against the frosted top as you watched him leave. He had seemed to be in a rush, either going to the gym or he had work. You assumed the latter but even then he seemed agitated himself.

Having finished some uni stuff as soon as you could, you found yourself in front of your wardrobe. Unable to decide on the clothes you had, you found yourself peeking into your roommates room, the smell of sex lingering and the used condom chucked into the bin. “You need help deciding what to wear?”

She hadn’t even looked up at you, exes fixated on her laptop as she continued to type onto Word. “How did you know?”

“I heard the swears.” She muttered to your early fucks and shits at how everything you owned looked horrendous on you. “I have that red dress.”

You already knew what dress she was talking about, the long-sleeved wine-coloured dress that went right up to your mid-thigh. She looked up from the laptop, watching at how you easily wore it in front of her, the square neck holding your chest as you looked gorgeous. “I knew it’d look good on you; I may dislike Bakugo...but just have fun tonight.”

Nodding at her, you gave a swift thanks before walking back to your own room, staring at your blank face. Memories surging of how easily you and Bakugo had confessed to each other, his soft kisses and hands on your body. You could almost feel his fingers skim across your thighs, around your chest and up your neck right to your mouth. You hesitatingly got ready, checking the clock every possible minute, you were anxious to say the least.

What if last night was all just a mistake? What if he didn’t really want you? What if this ‘date’ was him using you? You went against this all, feeling relieved at the sound of the taps to the door. Grabbing your phone and keys you almost ran towards the door but calmed yourself down after your roommate gave a glare to your excitement.

Opening the door softly, you saw Bakugo lean against his own door. The maroon shirt tucked into his jeans as his tall stature finally laid eyes on you. His mouth twitched upwards in a smile, looking at you with such warmth. “You look amazing.”

You could almost feel the roll of your roommate's eyes. Ignoring it as you look down at yourself not meeting his eyes. “Thanks, yo...you look really good too.” You had gotten shy in a matter of seconds, his soft gaze lingering across your body before staying right on your face. How could you not resist his smirk, resist his hand that he had put out for you to take.

“Take it then.” He muttered before feeling your hand against his own, he had a fear that his quirk could activate in a matter of seconds due to his nervousness. You closed the door and felt secluded with his gaze on you, “don’t start getting nervous with me now, I do remember last night.”

You looked at him, almost cowering but he brought you closer to his body, his arm moving to around your shoulder. “I’m not nervous.”

“Sure you aren't, baby, come on our dinner reservation is in 20 minutes.” He started to walk with his arm still around you, keeping you tightly beside him.

“Where are we going?” You questioned through the elevator ride down. He looked down at you leaning against the railing with a smirk.

He mocked, “what? Don’t like surprises?”

You look up to him, almost leaning into his arm more, “I do, but you could take me anywhere.”

“I’m not going to murder you, dumbass.” He chuckled tilting his head backwards, you admired his cockiness and joking manner. “There’s this restaurant, Kiri told me about this morning, I thought you’d like it.”

“Aww did it make you think of me?” You tease out starting to get more comfortable again.

He grabs your waist tighter, bringing his mouth to linger at your ear, “why? Have you been thinking of me?”

“N...no.” It was an obvious lie, and he could see through it so easily. His mouth kissed along the back of your ear down to your jaw as his hand moved from around your shoulders to your neck.

“You were never this shy before.” He whispered continuing to kiss down your neck before the ding of the elevator clicked making you both fall out.

His words were true, you were never this shy, even with one night stands you were able to easily flirt with men to get them into bed. You grabbed his wrist pushing him back into the elevator, “I’m not shy.” You muttered before bringing your lips to his own, he was startled by the action, the girl who had looked at him with anxiety had kissed him with such haste. The way your hands moved to his face bringing him closer to your body.

Your tongue flicked inside his mouth, gliding with his own as your spit and saliva mixed with his own. He had grabbed your hips, having missed the feeling of your lips on his own, he loved how he was able to toy with you. But your nastiness made him even more turned on than anything else. “Dinner.” You spoke as your lips parted away from his, you took his hand waiting for him to lead you away.

“Dinner.” He repeatedly stepped out of the elevator and took you to his car. He couldn’t stop staring at you, the way your body looked so perfect, how he could imagine you under him. He had opened the door for you letting you slide in before taking his own seat. His hand gravitating towards your thigh as if you were a couple who had been on multiple dates before. He didn’t understand it himself, but his hand stayed gripped on yours except when he was changing gears.

You didn’t know why the car ride had been silent, why he’d give you tender looks when there was a red light. You didn't know if it was your fault for kissing him or worst of all he regretted this night and wanted it over and done with. Overthinking was always a strong point of yours and as his arm went to your seat as he reversed into the spot. His jaw clenched you could do nothing but admire him, the concentration he had using one hand to steer backwards. “If you keep staring, I won’t let you out.”

The sexual implication was there, you took a deep breath but let a smirk stay on your face, “what are you going to do?” He cocked his head back again, almost grinning at you, he moved his hand to your jaw again making you look right up at him.

“I’m going to fuck that attitude out of you.” He made you stare right up into his scarlet eyes, the way you had begun to feel so small under him. “1 hour.”

“1 hour for what?” You question, confused.

He moves his head closer to you, it may have been uncomfortable laying on top of the gear stick, but he didn’t care. “1 hour to go inside and eat and then…” he tilted his head as he forced your own head to move, you wanted to close the gap again. Kiss his plump lips, feel his spit and saliva mix with your own, his tongue to suck on your own, he moved closer and closer towards you. “...I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

He made your head nod down before he gave a quick kiss on your lips, you were unable to even go for more. His lips left as soon as they came as he let go of your jaw and stepped out of the car. You stayed in the car, watching him come out and open the door for you, his hand out again for you.

You grabbed it but he let go moving his hands around your waist and almost leaning against your body. His chin rested across your shoulder as he made you look up at the restaurant, “like it?”

You knew what this place was, a new restaurant that had been fully booked until the next year had opened up a couple months ago. The prices were way above a university student's pay and you, and your roommate had looked at the next booking for fun and seen every date with a grey X through it. “How...how did you get a reservation?”

“I have my ways, baby, come on.” He kissed your neck before taking your hand again and moving to the door which looked like it had a waiting area filled with people. You both stepped inside, you knew there were perks of being a pro hero, but this seemed like a much larger perk then you had expected.

Bakugo’s hand stayed on your back as he spoke to the woman, knowing he was in a hurry to take you home. Your legs almost felt weak after his confession, one hour that’s all you both had before he’d give you what you wanted. “55 minutes.” He whispered into your ear as you stayed in front of him waiting with the others, it seemed like the business was easily able to fill the people up for their reservation.

As you leant against Bakugo’s broad chest, his arms fitting around your waist, he relished in the feeling between his arms. He had seen you every day since he had moved into the complex and had been unable to touch you until now. He promised himself to never let you go, you noticed a family of 4, they were probably well off, looking at their designer clothes.

One of the small girls came up to you both, her eyes in awe at an actual pro hero, you almost forgot that Bakugo saved people and protected others. How his whole occupation revolved around protecting civilians and being admired by all. “A...are you Dynamight?” She spoke softly in awe.

Bakugo looked down to meet her childish beady eyes, the way she had had her arms behind her back. But bringing them forward to show her Dynamight plush toy, Bakugo kept one hand on you before bending down and meeting her hands. “I am, what’s your name?” Bakugo knew he had gotten a lot better with kids, even if he still found them irritating as hell, he felt soft knowing this girl had his toy rather than stupid Deku’s.

She uttered her name making him smile as her mother came up to her. “Could she get a picture with you? She loves you.”

Bakugo looked at you almost for approval, he checked his watch knowing how much time you both had, but your voice startled him. “We’ve got enough time, Katsuki.”

His eyes widened hearing his name from your lips, he took a deep breath as he lifted the girl to meet his hip. You moved away from the two as she gave a smile at her mum, you stood beside her with Bakugo only staring at you with love. “Thank you.”

Bakugo placed the girl off his hip before staying bending to her height, “I love you so much and when you fight all the bad guys, mummy says that you’ll always win.” She spoke gleefully before finally gazing up at you, “your girlfriend is pretty, one day, when I grow up, I’m going to marry you, mummy says that you’ll only marry big girls though.”

Her mum's eyes widen at the comment as you give a chuckle going to her height as well, “seems like I’ve got competition, you going to become big and strong right?” The girl nodded at your comment as you smiled at her. Her mum gave a quick apology before leaving, both you and Bakugo had been called to be seated yourself, leaving Bakugo unable to even question what you and the girl had said.

“Competition eh?” He leant forward on the chair, the drinks menu in your hand as you skimmed through the food menu on the table.

You met his gaze as he gave you a tender look, “she’s gonna marry you someday? I gotta keep my guard up now.”

“You were good with her, kids they’re shitty little things.” He grumbles out, watching the waiter come towards the two of you.

You saw what you wanted, looking at how Bakugo stayed fixated on you, “are we getting dessert?”

“You are my dessert, baby.” He licked his lips in anticipation of the later events, your eyes widened at how openly he said it looking down.

“Kids are alright.” You answered his earlier question, ignoring the remark, “my nephew, he likes all types of things so he’s a lot easier to preoccupy than other kids.”

“Oh yeah, what does he like?” Bakugo had asked just as the waiter approached asking for your order, you both quickly said it before you turned back to meet Bakugo’s eyes. His hand had moved across to your own that sat loosely on the table, entangling his fingers with your own.

“Normal stuff, he loves your friend Kirishima a lot as well, I’ll have to tell him that I’ve met him.” You smile out, continuing to explain his likes and dislikes and why he spends time with you.

Your food had arrived in less than 20 minutes and Bakugo knew that soon enough he'd have his own heart's desire. You bound beneath his legs, he watched you eat, how a string of saliva went from your mouth to your fork. He hadn't realised he had been staring at your mouth until he heard his name again. “What did you say?”

“Katsuki.” You whine, “you weren't paying attention.”

“It’s not my fault you look so fucking hot.” The edge of his mouth turning upwards slyly, he took a bite of his food waiting for you to ask the question again.

You roll your eyes before giving a grin back, “I said I saw you this morning, you seemed to be in a rush.”

“Perving on me now, babe? If you wanted to see me you should’ve just asked.” He teased his fingers going back to your own.

“Oh shut it.” You shake your head waiting for an answer.

He remembered this morning, the rush after Kirishima and you had left. “Some stuff came up at work, a stupid villain had destroyed the other side of town and I had got called in.”

“Did you get hurt?” You ask having not seen any signs he was even in a fight.

His grip tightened as he looked at you with pride, “me? Hurt? Come on baby, I’d never get hurt.”

“Hey, I’m allowed to worry aren’t I.” You mutter while taking another bite of your food.

Bakugo didn’t know why the look of worry made him feel so warm, you truly did care about him. He knew that even if he had spoken about fucking you, he’s always let you decide, let you choose when it occurred. He had to protect you, let you live your life with security and peace, and he was going to be the one to give it to you.

“Yeah, you can worry then. I expect every time I fight a villain to have you waiting for me now.” He spoke it jokingly, but he really did want you to be waiting to ask if he was okay, to bring him comfort when he needed it. He wanted you by his side, he had waited too long coming home with nobody there, to miss out on the chance of being with you.

He hadn’t expected your reply, but it made his emotions run wild, “I’ll always be waiting for you, even when we weren’t, whatever this is, I always worried about you. It...It’s stupid, I’d see you on the news and I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I heard you close your door.”

“You..you did?” You looked down not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s...it was stupi…” Before you could continue his hands went to your face, cupping both of your cheeks to make you face him.

He looked right into your eyes, his normal fiery personality becoming softer and tender. He had no idea what you were doing to him, he knew he would have mocked someone if they had told him something like that. But with you all he felt was love and warmth, feelings that he never knew he was capable of. “It’s not stupid, idiot.”

He stayed fixated on you before continuing to speak, “we need the bill.” He said it to one of the waiters passing by who nodded, Bakugo stayed looking at you, confusion streaming inside his head. “Fuck, I don’t know what to do with you, my y/n.”

He felt the bill get placed down, letting go of your arms as he left you with those words. You had been silent watching as he paid without regard to if you wanted to split it even though you knew you probably couldn't afford even your drink here. Bakugo stood up, moving to you as he grabbed your hand and almost dragged you out of the building.

Bakugo didn't stop to acknowledge the praise he was getting, he had one thing on his mind, and it was you. He opened the car door and put you inside, checking his watch seeing the 5 minutes left of an hour. He opened his own door, taking a seat as he began driving, you were silent again. His words stick to you in ways you didn’t even understand, “I don’t want to do anything you don't want to do.”

It was the first words you heard from the red lights, you met his gaze, your hand moved to touch his own that was on top of the gear. He moved it hastily before putting it under his hand, moving it up with his own hand. For the first time since you had sat in the car he looked at you, waiting for an answer and getting your eyes that were filled with a need, “I want you.”

“You do?” He questioned turning back onto the road, knowing you both were only a couple minutes away from the complex.

“I’ve waited too long for this, I need you Katsuki.” It felt like heaven to his ears, his hand moving to glide up and down your thigh. All he wanted to feel was you beneath him, to show you just how much you meant to him.

His hand squeezed your thigh, feeling your skin tense under his. “You've been thinking of me haven’t you, when you're touching yourself, what do you imagine? Me sucking on your cunt, fingering you, go on baby tell me.”

“Yes.” You stifled out, “I...I think of you, y...your mouth and fingers”

It was an admission, something Bakugo had been craving to hear, you saw the double doors to the underground parking, how his eyes gazed across your frame as he parked again. He needed you, he didn’t care where, but he knew you’d care. Leaving your thigh he moved to open your own door, seeing how you looked beautiful in front of him.

His hand guided you hastily towards the elevator, not knowing what had gotten into the two of you. As soon as the doors shut, his lips crashed into your own, you instinctively jumped onto his body, legs wrapping around his waist as your back was pushed against the back of the elevator.

His lips moved to your neck and jaw, leaving sloppy kisses across it, you could almost feel his saliva on you. The feeling of him on you made your legs clench, the dress had rode up, your ass only covered by his hands as he felt your underwear. “Already wet for me baby.” He muttered into your ear, biting the lobe as he went back to kiss your mouth. His tongue gliding inside as it moved along with your own, the sound of the ding did nothing but make him carry you towards your apartment. He had seen your keys in your hand and thought of an idea that would make you satisfied.

“Wh...what about your place?” You questioned as he unlocked the apartment, your roommate in her room from the sound of an anime intro playing.

He gave a smirk kicking the door shut with his foot as he gave soft kisses down your neck to your exposed chest. He had assumed you’d have been cold in the dress but the way your body had been pushing against him all night. He knew you had been warm with him, “let’s let her hear, payback for last night.”

Even if Bakugo was glad your roommate had been fucking the night before, as it had brought the two of you together. He knew you could get some sort of revenge on her; he grabbed a handful of your ass squeezing it. A loud moan erupting from your lips as he moved you towards what he assumed to be your bed. He almost fell inside, seeing the discarded clothes and makeup, he pushed you onto the bed.

Body on show, as you looked like a mess, his mess. He closed the door behind him, as he rolled his sleeves up letting his veiny arms and hands be on show. He moved towards you like a predator does with its prey, lust filling him. “Can I?” He gestured to your cunt, his fingers on show. You nodded, watching as both his knees stayed on the side of the bed, you moved backwards, leaning against the pillows.

His hands moved the dress upwards, helping you take it off before chucking it to the side. He eyed you up and down as you moved your hands to cover yourself, but his own stopped you. “Don’t you ever fucking cover yourself in front of me, you’re fucking beautiful, I’m going to show you just how gorgeous you are.” He pinned your hands above with one hand before his mouth went to the top of your underwear, dragging it down.

He grabbed it with his other hand pulling your underwear onto the floor before unclipping your bra. Your body was on show for him as he saw just how beautiful you were, “Katsuki, please fuck me.” You begged out.

He looked at you from where your clit was, his tongue gliding across the slick. He heard a loud moan as he looked another lick across your clit. “I’m going to take my time you, okay princess.”

Not waiting for a reply, his tongue delved right into your cunt. He felt greedy for you, his nose hitting your clit as you arched your back. His hands stayed tight across your wrists, he knew how much you wanted to touch his hair, force his face lower. His other hand moved to your hardened nipples, feeling how you gave another loud moan. “Ka...Katsuki faster.”

He listened to your plea, his tongue going further inside your cunt, the taste of slick sliding down his mouth as his tongue lapped quicker inside your mouth. His hand continued to massage your chest before his fingers moved to your mouth feeling the spit and drool on his fingers move towards your nipples in an instant.

“You want to cum on my face.” He groaned going back into your cunt wanting to taste your cum.

“Let me cum, please, da...daddy, please let me cum.” Bakugo hadn't realised just how turned on a word could make him, his hands moving away from your wrist and nipple as he grabbed your thighs. Leaving bruises as your hands pushed his face further into your cunt, he didn't care if you crushed his head with your thighs he needed your cum.

He heard continuous moans and groans coming from your mouth, “oh...oh God, pleas...faster, daddy, I c...cum.” You could almost feel yourself coil up as every lick and action from his tongue made your stomach grow wild needing a release. In one haste lick down your clit and into your cunt, white liquid gushed right onto his face and mouth. He swallowed it before looking up at how your chest heaved in front of him.

He grabbed your legs dragging your cunt right up to his jeans, the bulge evident through his jeans as he grabbed your wrists making you look at him. “Was that what you dreamed me doing? Do you want more princess? Go on, tell daddy what you want?”

“Fuc...fuck me daddy.” You were restless but wanted him inside of you, wanted to cum on his cock. He moved down, fully clothed as he kissed your mouth, you could taste yourself on him. The way you cum stayed lingering, white liquid around his mouth, he almost wore the dampness as a mark of honour that he had gotten you to cum.

He moved away from your mouth, undoing his shirt as you stayed on the bed, you heard him unbuckle his jeans, eyes widening at the more prominent bulge. “Like what you see.” He spoke cockily, as he stripped himself, his hand moving to pump his cock up and down.

You saw how the tip was a blushed pink, a vein travelling along its side as it turned upwards every time Bakugo’s hands moved up and down. He kneeled in front of you, your cunt right in his view, you saw as he leant towards his jeans which held his wallet, finding a condom as it stayed in his hands. “Let me.” You spoke hesitantly, it was a surprise that you had even offered. You took the condom, ripping the top as you made sure to cautiously not damage it before your hand moved to his cock.

You had sat upright, cum still dripping down your cunt as your hand moved up and down his erect cock before sliding the condom down it. He gave a groan before grabbing your hands and moving you back onto the bed. “You gonna let daddy fuck you now.” You nodded eagerly, your clit feeling swollen, but you didn't care.

He brought your cunt right up to his cock, the way his tip gliding against the slick and cum of your clit. “Fuck, pl...please, I need you inside of me.” You moaned loudly, feeling him continue to toy with you, your legs stayed spread beside his body as he almost enjoyed hearing you beg.

He brought one hand to your mouth, making you taste the precum that had come from his cock, just as you moaned at the taste he slammed into your cunt, “you’re so tight baby.” It was groan as he heard your loud moan come out as well. One hand squeezed your side, grabbing a hold of your body to allow himself to stay in you before thrusting.

As soon as he moved out and back inside, you knew you had met your match. The sheer size and length had been enough to make you melt, but now hear you were, tears streaming down your eyes as he watched with a sadistic smile. “Keep crying, you’re taking me...so well.” His other hand moved to your clit, rubbing circles around it, making your legs turn even more weaker.

“Katsuki.” You whined loudly as his thumb pressed against your clit, his cock gliding back and forth inside of you. You felt the salty tears stream down into your mouth and neck, mascara blackening it to make you look like an entire mess.

Bakugo had been enjoying it all, the wall you laid sprawled out, tears formed, your lack of words and mumbles instead, the sounds of groans and moans, lewd thoughts that escaped your lips. It had all filled the room and your roommate was getting an earful of banging against the wall and wild sounds coming from your room.

“Such a good girl, taking daddy well aren’t you.”

“Y...yes da...daddy.” You continued to be a moaning mess, Bakugo moving his body into your arched self, he felt your chest against his own as he kept at it, hands moving away from your clit and side.

One hand had met your own as your fingers entangled together, your other hand in his hair as he kept on thrusting inside of you. His other hand on the side of your head keeps his body upright to continue thrusting inside of you. You felt his lips leave kisses down your neck and chest before watching how your eyes rolled to the back of your head in a moan.

He kissed you again, teeth against teeth as he sucked at your tongue as you stuck it out for his lips to taste you on. You could feel yourself coil up inside, cum ready to seep out for a second time tonight as he continued to thrust in and out of your wet core. The sound of skin hitting skin erupting through the moan filled room. “You gonna cum for me, fuck… baby, go on cum on my cock.”

It was an order, something you were going to do. His hand tightened around your fingers, feeling how one sign on entanglement was so intimate as his pace quickened. He heard you scream his name as you reached your high, cum gushing onto his cock as he kept at the pace, the cum making it even easier for him to get further into you. He felt himself gain his own high, groaning in your ear as he heard your heavy breath.

Your hands pressed in his damp blond hair as he finally felt himself cum, he slowly came out of you. Condom filled with his own white gush as he fell beside you, he quickly took the condom off, tying it as he chucked it into the bin. He saw how sore and bruised you looked, the blue and greens on your thighs, the purples across your neck and chest.

You looked a mess, but he couldn't help but fall for you even more, cum dripped from you. A lingering smell as you both stayed quietly, the only sound being the heavy breathes from you both. Until you turned to meet his face against one of your pillows, his hands moved to your shoulders, letting your body fall onto his own. “Next time, let’s skip the condom.” You really just wanted to feel him properly inside of you, feel him fill you up until you felt like a stuffed whore.

“Next time yeah?” He grimaced looking down at your tired body.

“Oh shut it, I expect another date before we fuck again.” You muttered back.

His hands moved into your hair, playing with the sweaty strands in his fingers. “Always so needy, is my cock not enough for you baby.”

“No it isn’t.” You signed loudly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be taking you on a lot more dates baby.” It was more of a promise than anything else making you smile as you laid on his chest.

You felt his hand wrap even tighter across your bare body, the sound of your clock ticking beside him, “I never thought that you saying, ‘you want to sleep on the floor’ would lead me to actually getting you.” He muttered.

“What? You would’ve kept pining for me?” You chuckle your eyes feeling heavy.

He watched how every time you blinked your eyes stayed closed for a lot longer. Already knowing you’d be out in a matter of seconds, “yeah I would’ve, I was an idiot for never asking you out all those months ago.”

He spoke the last part in a mumble as you hummed a response before falling asleep in his arms. He kissed the top of your head, even if he had fucked you and had the best sex he’d ever had. He promised himself to always show you just how much you meant to him, this wasn't going to be fuck buddies or friends with benefits. Bakugo realised he would settle for nothing else then one day calling you his forever.

go back to part one

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vad-hander · 3 years

Text

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 3.8k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Your head felt dizzy and you wouldn’t lie if you’d say that everything caved in and pulled out from under you.

The first sip you took was when your foot exited the store, unscrewing the lid of the wine you bought, immediately. It burned your throat, but the whole in your chest burned ten times stronger and you chose to deal with your inner pain first. Your feet walked you through the streets of Seoul, trying to focus your brain on something other than the void inside of you but failed miserably. The first bottle didn’t do its job yet and when you pressed it against your lips for another sip you noticed how it was already empty. The nearest bin became it’s grave and the nearest store became your saviour, allowing you to buy another drink. This time your eyes fell onto the beer, and you bought three bottles, opening them in the park nearby, you sat down on the grass, fishing out the cake you had baked a day before from the bag on your shoulder. Not bothering with the way you’d it eat you just bit into it, getting cake all over your face. You chuckled to yourself, wiping sweet goodness from your skin.

You turned on music in your headphones, playing every upbeat song there was, nodding your head and moving your foot to the beat, right until you felt warm trails of tears on your cheeks. You laid your head on the grass, hiding your face in your palms, not holding back anymore from crying.

You weren’t able to believe it, you couldn’t believe he did this to you. You never thought he’d cheat, you never thought you’d find out about it in such a bad way. You never expected this from Jeno, but then again, who ever expects their partner to cheat?

Your mind went again over everything you’ve been through in the past 8 months, your mind went through your friendship of 3 years, 3 years of you being head over heels for Jeno until one day you became more.

Suddenly you remembered how Jaebeom told you to break up with him making you hate everything about the situation even more. If you listened, you would’ve not went through what you just went through, but why would you listen to a stranger anyway? You hated the fact he was right, but one single memory of him made you want to see him.

You fished out your phone to search on the internet open hours of the bar. The website said 5 PM, making you shift your eyes up to the clock of your phone. It was already three, and since your plans for the day and maybe even life were ruined, you had no better things to do than just come there and wait for him. Wait for Jaebeom for no reason. Just because he was the only person that didn’t know Jeno, just because he was the only person you wanted to see.

The route in your phone promised you that you’d be there right before opening if you’ll walk, so without hesitation you sat up, collecting yourself and walking in the direction of the bar.

You tried to do everything for emptiness in your hands to bother you more, than the new feeling of having your heart ripped from your chest, and halfway to the bar you went to one more alcohol store, getting this time a proper drink - rum. You didn’t know where this rum addiction suddenly came from, but now you guessed it should be your signature drink when it came to meeting Jaebeom.

The familiar by now burn of the drink gave your brain one more reason to think about Jaebeom. You have almost forgot that you spilled your drink over him, almost forgot the way he said your name. Memories of him almost made a small shard of your heart go back in place, almost, because the image of Jeno with HER, made all of your insides clench in pain.

Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Your brain went in overdrive, repeating his name like a mantra. Your fingers ached to dial his number but your brain knew you had nothing to tell him. Your love have died just like that, it didn’t go somewhere overnight, you didn’t wake up and understand that you didn’t love him anymore. He killed it with his actions, Jeno killed everything there was with his actions, and now you were killing memories of him in your head, finding the neck of the bottle with your lips.

From the side you must’ve looked like a psychopath, crying, laughing, talking to your own self, walking in a quicker and slower pace. Doing everything that came to your mind. Now you were free in every meaning possible, why’d you bother about anything?

You got there quicker than your phone have promised, seeing the door of the bar being closed. Not finding a better option than just sitting on the bench not far from the entrance, you placed the bottle next to you, only realising how tired you got from walking when your butt rested against wooden material of your seat. You looked around, noticing how the area of the bar was actually pretty quiet. Your eyes ran over the streets that were surrounding the building, wondering in your mind if one of those roads led to Jaebeom’s house.

Alcohol from the rum hit you like a rock, crawling from behind your brain with tiredness. You closed your eyes for a slight second, only to feel someone touch your shoulder the next moment.

“Are you alive?” a man asked you carefully. Your eyes blew open in fear, noticing how it was much darker outside. Your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

“Jaebeom.” you said quietly, sighing.

“Celebrating your boyfriends birthday to the max?” he joked, grabbing the bottle from next to you. You tried to smile back, biting your upper lip and lifting your eyes up to the sky to prevent from crying.

“No, I’m alone here.” your voice trembled and it was the last bit before you broke down. Hot tears streamed down your face, making you feel embarrassed. You barely could see Jaebeom’s face but he went quiet and you guessed he didn’t want to deal with that, expected.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, calm down.” his hands touched your cheeks and your insides turned upside down. “We’ll work everything out, you can tell me.” His thumbs drew soothing little circles under your eyes making you want to put it all in you to stop crying. You blinked multiple times finally being able to see his face properly for the first time this evening, seeing him squatting in front of you. He probably noticed you focus your vision on him, gifting you a kind smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” you cleared your throat in a couple of seconds, finally replying. You thought he’ll let go of your face by now, but he kept his fingers glued to your cheeks, keeping his eyes glued to yours. You felt your breathing get heavier, but you attributed it to your recent crying.

“How come you’re so beautiful even when you’re crying?” he chuckled more to himself, beating air from your lungs completely.

Your hands slowly found Jaebeom’s on your cheeks, covering his hands with yours. You wanted to make him let go of you, but when you got the taste of what his hands felt like with your own, you changed your mind immediately.

People passed by, drunk and sober, some were just going in and some were already leaving. You didn’t know how long your nap took, you didn’t know how come you got so lucky to be woken up by Jaebeom and not some weird creep.

You stared at each other, both of you being scared to break the moment.

“Ya, Jaebeom, where did you get lost?” the voice of a guy made you jump in Jaebeom’s hands, turning your head in unison with Jaebeom to face the guy.

“Get lost, I’ll come later.” one of his hands left you, showing the guy to leave.

You let go of Jaebeom’s hand when he turned back to you, and he let go of your cheek too, sitting on the bench right next to you.

“Why did you sleep on the bench?” he asked not looking at you.

“Buy me a drink.”

“What?”

“You wanted to buy me a drink twice, now I agree.” you looked at him.

“I won’t.” he turned to face you.

“Why is that?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Is that all you had? Half of the rum?”

“No…” You said shamefully.

“What else?”

“Wine, beer and then this.” you listed quickly expecting any reaction from him, but he just watched you.

“Let’s go.” he quickly stood up after some time of silence.

“Where to?”

“Cafe next block. You need food and coffee, and when you’ll tell me everything I’ll see if you’re allowed to drink any more. Come on.” he signalled for you to go with his head and you stood up too, grabbing the bottle to take with you. “Give me that.”

“Why?”

“I’ll carry it for you. Don’t worry, I won’t throw it away, I see that you have a special relationship with rum. I won’t fight it.” he shot you a smile, pulling the bottle from your hands.

***

“Eat up.” Jaebeom moved the plate closer to you when the waitress that eyed him wildly finally left your sight.

“Thank you.” you sighed, picking the fork and a knife, cutting up the pancakes in the plate. Jaebeom took the coffee pot, pouring hot beverage into your cup and placing the pot back on the table. “Hey, have coffee too.” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“You eat, you need to sober up.”

“I never offered the food, don’t even dream of that.” you played with your eyebrows and Jaebeom chuckled at you, smiling at you sweetly for a few more seconds after you lowered your eyes to the plate.

You cut through the pancakes, sticking a few pieces on the fork. Lifting your eyes up you noticed that he poured coffee for himself too. You waited patiently for him to lift his eyes up at you.

“Open your mouth.” you commanded the next second he looked at you. A smirk lit up his face and a sudden regret rushed over your body. Maybe that was a bit overboard, maybe that’s the rum inside of you speaking. Whatever it was, it was way too late now to back off. Jaebeom nibbled on his lower lip with a smile, opening his mouth slightly and extending his neck towards you. Your hand moved up and froze in the air when your eyes focused on his mouth. Redness flashed over your face at the thoughts that ran in your head. How soft would his mouth feel on yours?

His hand quickly grabbed yours, moving it towards his face, forcing the fork into his mouth and biting the pancakes off it. He let go of your hand, letting it fall back onto the table.

“So tell me, what happened?” he asked you after he finished chewing. His elbows laid on the table, making you feel as if you were under interrogation.

“Don’t be a party pooper, I just began feeling better.” you whined, making Jaebeom laugh again. What’s up with him laughing at everything you say? We’re you that funny…? You never noticed before.

“I didn’t know you considered this a party.” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded quickly, forcing your attention into the plate, knowing if you’d keep your eyes on him a second longer you’d cry.

You stared into the plate through the whole time you ate, finishing the coffee in your cup, feeling how he stared at you quietly while you were consuming everything that was on the table.

“Jeno, my boyfriend, the guy you told me to dump, I guess he dumped me.” you leaned more into the seat, seeing Jaebeom’s face for the first time in a while. He kept quiet, allowing you to continue but you didn’t do it.

“On his birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Right after you came with miyeok guk?”

“Yeah… well, I think technically before that.” you chuckled hysterically. “I came to his place, punched in the code and got to his bedroom only to find a topless girl on top of him. They were…” you coughed awkwardly.

“Fucking?” he asked carelessly.

“Yeah… that. So… I guess he only called me last night to find out if I’ll come early when she was already there, to see if he should make her leave or what. I shouldn’t have lied, if I didn’t I would’ve lived my happy clueless life. Want to know the funny part?”

“There is one?” Jaebeom seemed surprised.

“You were right about the girl, you probably did see her somewhere because she was the one with him. I doubt she is the friends sister now.” you sighed and moved in your seat worriedly. You felt better but at the same you felt wrong sharing this with him. “The ridiculous part is that you really did read through my entire life in a second. That’s really annoying.” you looked him in the eyes, chuckling. “And concerning as well, should I be listening to you from now on in everything I do?” you tried to joke with him once again and he gifted you another smile.

“I won’t protest, but I won’t force you either.” he looked you deep in the eyes. He did that way too often as if he tried to speak to you through staring.

“Would you like anything else?” waitress broke off the silence, ruining one of your moments.

“No, thanks.” Jaebeom gave the girl the same smile he always gave you, and a weird pinch of jealousy hit your chest. “Give us the bill, please.” his voice was soft and the girl smiled even brighter than before.

“Just a moment.” she bowed and left.

“So you’re friendly like that to everyone.” you noted to yourself but did it aloud for some reason.

“I’m friendly to everyone but for you I’m all that and even more.” he leaned in and extended his hand to you, laying it with his palm up for you to lay yours on top.

“Why?” he stretched his fingers signalling to you that he’s waiting.

“There should be a reason?”

“There’s a reason for everything.” you replied, fighting an inner battle if its appropriate now to touch his hand.

“Okay, then my reason is that I’m naturally attracted to you. Didn’t I tell you already multiple times that I liked you?” he sounded so casual as if he spoke about weather. Your hands felt cold due to fear you were experiencing. Was he meaning he liked you as a person? As a company? Or did he mean something else…? Something more? The idea of asking him to clarify these questions gave you a whiplash. His whole presence gave you constant whiplash with everything he said, did and even with the way he looked at you. You knew for sure you weren’t about to forget Jeno in a second and you were afraid to tell that to Jaebeom in case he didn’t mean it in that way at all. Jeno broke your heart and you knew that you needed more time to over-live it than 8 hours. At the same time you were afraid Jaebeom would laugh at your silly assumption of him wanting you by his side in a different way.

Giving him your hand to hold wouldn’t hurt anything though, right? You thought to yourself it wouldn’t and laid your palm on top of his.

“I thought you said I’m okay and we could be friends, now you doubted to lay your hand on top of mine for 10 minutes, I’m offended.” His fingers wrapped around your hand moving it closer to his side of the table. His other hand laid on top of yours and you shivered unconsciously hoping he didn’t notice. “ you’re funny, cute and smart, that’s his loss, you shouldn’t be crying about someone who didn’t only disrespect you, he just showed what type of person he is. He’s a trash bag if he cheated, don’t waste your nerves on that. It’s better you found out more or less quickly. If you need someone to rely on I can be by your side. You can call me anytime.” Jaebeom lifted your hands off the table, finding your eyes with his, biting his lower lip. Lifting your hands higher, he lowered his head, planting a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn’t help but smile shyly at his gesture. “Give me your phone, by the way.”

“Oh?” you asked surprised but didn’t want to protest or question him any further, moving your hand from his and getting your phone out on the table. You unblocked it getting startled by the photo on the home screen. The photo of you being on Jeno’s back, kissing his cheek sweetly, while he bended and smiled into the camera happily. You wanted to change it quickly for Jaebeom to not see but your hands just froze. The void in your chest suddenly enlarged to the previous size.

Jaebeom grabbed the phone from your hands before you could even realise it and began doing something you couldn’t see. It took him longer than you expected and you bit your tongue to not ask questions.

You watched him focusing his vision onto the screen of your phone, probably typing his phone number into your contacts while you were just appreciating his handsome features.

“Would you like to pay by card or cash?” the waitress appeared scaring you once again.

“Card.” you said in unison. Jaebeom gave you a look, laying your phone by his side.

“I ate, I’ll pay.” you expanded your hand to grab the phone and pay with it but he caught your hand with his, making you blush because you could definitely feel the waitresses eyes on your hands.

“No.” he nodded strictly and the piercing gaze that he gave you killed your will to fight with him over that.

“Thanks for food… and for words you said…” you told him when the both of you exited the cafe. “You really are a good friend I guess.” you lifted your eyes to see his face.

“You want to go home?” he sounded disappointed. “Sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

“No, I’m just saying thank you.” you smiled. “Or were you hoping to not spend any more money on me? Didn’t you promise me a drink?” you whined jokingly.

“I thought you’re trying to run away from me.”

“No.” You shook your head.

“Good, i wouldn’t let you anyway.” he stepped closer invading your private space. “I’ll buy you as many drinks as you’d want me to…” he raised his arm and you stopped breathing to see what he’ll do next and he moved his palm closer to your cheek, making it burn with the electricity that was forming in the space between you two, but dropped his hand back down the next second. “Just stay by my side… for tonight, at least.” his hand found your wrist, pulling you to go after him towards the entrance of the bar. 15 minutes later the both of you were sitting at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you called him.

“Rum and coke?” Jaebeom asked with a laugh.

“I’ll have what you’ll have.”

“Okay.” he nodded seriously, lifting his arm again. “Two shots of vodka.” he gestured number two with his fingers.

“Just a second.” your eyes ran from Jaebeom to bartender quickly, trying to see if he was about to tell you it was a joke, but he didn’t. Even when the shot glasses hit the bar he watched bartenders moves quietly, only looking up at you when the order was done.

“I didn’t know that’s what you meant when you said you want to buy me a drink.” you laughed awkwardly.

“That’s just because you said you want what I want.” he pushed the glass towards you more.

Your eyes ran between Jaebeom and vodka.

“Okay, on the count of 3.” you grabbed the glass.

“No, no, both of these are for you.”

“What?”

“Drink.” he gestured.

“Jaebeom.” you sighed disapprovingly.

“You’ll feel better when you’ll stop thinking about everything.”

“I’ll pass out, if it seemed to you that I’m a great drinker, you’re wrong. I’m not drinking often and I’m not really taking it well.”

“You can chill out, I won’t let anything happen to you even if you’ll pass out.” his hand reached your cheek, caressing it a few times.

“Give me a single reason why I should trust my life to a stranger?” you asked curiously.

“To see that I’m not just a stranger to you anymore.” his hand stopped moving and his eyes glued to you in anticipation. Your hand slowly found the glass without looking away from Jaebeom, raising it to your lips, you exhaled, quickly downing the shot. Now that you were completely sober the drink burned like hell and there was nothing to wash down vodka, so you just grabbed the other glass too, downing it in a span of a second. You felt Jaebeom’s hand move from your cheek to your neck, while you were wrinkling your face in disgust, suddenly pulling you by it from where you sat into his embrace. You fell, resting your body against his as if you were a small child, feeling his hand let go of your neck and rest against your back. Your face hid in the crook of his neck and you couldn’t not point out to yourself how bloody good he smelled. Everything about him was always too good to be true. He seemed perfect to the extent it felt concerning but you guessed it was a bit too late to back off now.

When you finally were able to open your eyes again you still felt his hands on your waist, moving yours to rest against his shoulders to push back a little. He didn’t let go of you, leaving his fingers to burn the skin of your sides even through the clothes.

“I didn’t think you’d actually drink both.” he chuckled “you fine?” you nodded yes and he allowed you to sit back.

“I want more.” you turned to face him when you sat.

“More of what?”

“Whatever you’ll buy me.” you smiled at him feeling a bit drunk. Jaebeom nodded at you, biting on his lower lip.

One more round of pure alcohol, and that’s the last thing you remember of the evening.

#jaebeom #jaebeom smut #jay b #jaebeom fluff #jaebeom fanfiction #jaebum #im jaeboem #jaebom #got7 jb #jb fic #jb smut #jaebum smut #jaebum imagines #jaebum fluff #got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 smut #got7 fluff

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 3 years

Note

Could you do a part 2 to back to her where she ends up with Bucky and they help each other heal? I know you shouldn’t date your ex’s best friend but they were just abandoned 🤣x

Back To Her

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After Steve practically abonded the two people who loved him most they found themselves in a sticky situation

Warnings: none

Hey guys! So I’ve decided to turn this into a mini-series hope you guys enjoy this journey xo

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

MASTERLIST

______

12:00 AM

The clock on your nightstand mocked you as you continued to toss and turn unable to fall asleep. Rolling onto your stomach for what seems like the millionth time you let out a frustrated groan and threw the covers off of you

You hauled yourself out of bed and made your way out into the hall of the Avengers tower, getting on the elevator your finger hovered over Bucky’s floor number but you fought against bothering him again tonight. For the past couple weeks the two of you had gotten closer since Steve abandoned you

Steve

Your chest still aches whenever you think about him, you understood why he did what he did but you still manage to question yourself

Is it my fault? Wasn’t I good enough for him? Could I have done something differently to make him stay?

Those were the questions that kept you up at night and it’s eating away at you. The doors slid open and you headed to the kitchen to indulge in your tub of Ben and Jerry’s. Too wrapped up in your head you hadn’t noticed the figure sitting in the dark

“Can’t sleep”

“Jesus!” you fumbled with the tub as you spun around to face

“F.R.I.D.A.Y lights”

The lights came on and Bucky sat at the island with a stupid smirk on his face enjoying the fact that he almost gave you a heart attack

“Real funny Barnes” rolling your eyes you plopped down in the seat next to him

“I know why I’m awake, what’s up with you?” you asked stuffing your face with the deliciously sweet treat

“Well after sharing my bed for the past two weeks I couldn’t fall asleep alone” taking your spoon he dug into your ice cream before stuffing his face, you felt your cheeks get heated at his revelation

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t sweat it” you too sat there in silence enjoying the cold treat which ended way too quickly for your liking

“Okay, let’s go” Bucky stood up putting his chisled physic on display, you averted your eyes not wanting to get caught staring at my ex-boyfriend’s best friend

“Where exactly are we going?” sliding out of your seat you headed over to the bin to discard the empty tub, before you could process what was happening Bucky swopped you off your feet, taking you into his arms

“To your room so we could sleep”

The coldness from the touch of his metal arm sent shivers throughout your body casing you to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. You breathed in his musky scent from the kitchen all the way up to your room

He entered the room and kicked the door shut before moving to place you down on the bed. You pulled the blanket over you both and you immediately cuddling into his side

“Doll”

“Bucky” looking up at him you noticed the solemn look on hie face

What’s going through that brain of his?

“Promise me that we won’t abandon one another, no matter what” his steel blue eyes gave way his emotions, he was hurt, betrayed even. Reaching up you cupped his cheek, thumb brushing against his beard enjoying the feeling of it

“I’m not going anywhere Buck” his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips as he hesitantly leaned forward, his lips brushed against yours before he closed the gap between you

Closing your eyes you returned the kiss as he pulled you flush against him

He’s kissing me

I’m kissing him

Oh fuck!

Breaking the kiss you pulled back a bit, thumb swiping over your swollen lips. As if it finally dawned on him, Bucky’s eyes grew three times it’s size as he flew up from under the covers, scrambling for words to say

“I-I should go” with that being said the super soldier left leaving you in a daze

Holy shit, what just happened?

_____

Tag list:

@mac99martin

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #captain america #captain america x female reader #captain america imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans x reader

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

A family man

Summary: What happens when Steve is not happy with his decisions?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Sam x Reader (platonic), Bucky x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton

Warnings: angst, language, pregnant reader, heartbreak, abandonment, Daddy!Steve, angry Sam (yes, he can get angry too), Sam & Bucky being good friends, fluff

Catch up here:

Part 1 - No, you won’t Part 2 - Some kind of love

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

“Goodbye, Steve Grant Rogers, my love, my heart, my everything…”

It’s a new beginning for you. You left your old life behind to start a new one.

When you sit on your front porch, watching the sunset you run one hand over your belly. “Only four months left, baby girl,” you whisper holding back the tears. “One day I’ll tell you about your father, the hero who saved the world more than once.”

“Y/N,” Sam watches you stare into the distance as you do so often lately. “We should talk about a few things. Bucky and I need to tell you something.”

“You’re going to marry,” you tease, giving Sam a wink. “We all know it’s a matter of time,” Sam sits next to you, laughing at your words. “You’re a good team.”

“A great one,” Sam exclaims. He slings one arm around your shoulders to offer comfort. “Buck and I will be on a mission for two or three weeks. Wanda will come around and check on you to make sure you’ve got all you need.”

“I’m a grown woman, you know,” Bucky nods, still, he’s worried to leave you alone. It’s the first time since Steve left that he and Sam can’t be around. “I depended on you way too long. We are friends, and I appreciate all you have done for me as Steve…,” your voice cracks and you need to wipe a few tears away.

“Nothing will change, doll. Sam and I will come around as often as we can. While we are away, Wanda will take over,” Bucky smirks when you roll your eyes. “Don’t talk back, Y/N. We are family, this means we will suffocate you with love…”

The moment Steve stepped onto the platform and didn’t see you he knew; just knew he made the wrong decision.

Whilst the quantum realm particles sent him back in time, all he could think about was the sadness in your eyes when you stood your ground against him.

Steve knew you played a role. He knew that you cried yourself to sleep that night, but he didn’t find it in him to crawl back to you.

Instead, he stepped onto the platform the next day, straightened his back, and looked his friends straight in the eyes.

Sam held his gaze but Bucky, well Steve’s oldest friend, the one he promised ‘till the end of the line’, looked away.

The world he found on the other side of time isn’t the one he wanted to live in, but Steve had no other choice – right? He burned all the bridges days ago, lost the woman who always loved him unconditionally for a dream.

“I can’t stay, Peggy,” Steve tried for six months to adapt to a life with Peggy, but he soon realized, there is no love on both ends.

Steve stuffs his hands into the pockets of his suit, shuffling on his feet as he feels something dig into the palm of his hand. Waking up to reality is cold, hard, and heartbreaking. Even worse when you find a positive pregnancy test in the pocket of your suit.

With shaking fingers Steve looks at the test in his hands, choking out a sob.

“How?” he whispers, wishing he never left you. “Doll—oh god, no. You’re all alone, my love.”

Steve doesn’t know Bucky hid the test he stole from your bin to make his best friend see – someone is relying on him.

“You’ve got to go, Steven,” Peggy whispers, gently cupping Steve’s cheek. “I know you believed we belong together, I did so too. But,” Steve gives Peggy a cracked smile, nodding silently. “If she’s with your child, you can’t leave her, Steve. You should’ve never left her for me.”

“I know, Peggy. I was a fool believing that I belong anywhere but by her side. I want to be a father,” Steve chokes out. “I still got time left.”

“Where do you want me to put this?” Wanda watches you place a picture frame onto one of the shelves at the nursery. “That’s one of Steve and you,” she whispers, not missing your pained expression.

“He’s her father, Wanda,” you swallow the lump in your throat, looking at a framed ultrasound picture. “One day my baby girl will ask me about her father, and I want her to know about him. He left me, not her. I was not enough, not my girl.”

“Y/N don’t say things like that,” Wanda watches you place another picture frame onto the shelf you nod, knowing it’s the ugly truth. “Steve didn’t know what he got when he had it.”

“Do you think I should get a dog?” you look around the room, watching Wanda hold back the words stuck on the back of her tongue. “Don’t, Wanda. I know you want to assure me I was enough, but I wasn’t. If not, Steve would be here.”

“A dog would be great. I always wanted to have one,” Wanda smiles when you tell her you grew up with dogs. “Aw, I’m jealous, Y/N.”

“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Most of the time they chased after me and stole my food,” you grin, remembering your dogs.

“Fuck,” Clint snickers at Sam’s outburst. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Steve! You left! Six months ago, you left your girl and now you are back in town and ask me about her whereabouts!”

“Sam let Steve explain why he’s back,” Bucky eyes his friend warily, knowing he must’ve found the pregnancy test. “Why did you come back, Stevie?”

“I regretted my decision the moment I heard Y/N close the door behind her. I was just too stubborn to admit that I can’t be without her,” Steve huffs. “I tried to make things work with Peggy but had to admit, she’s not the woman on my mind.”

“Great for you,” Sam is not amused. “I mean, you left Y/N six months ago for another woman. Now you come back here and intend to do what?”

“Get my girl back and raise my child with her,” Steve puffs his chest when he gets the pregnancy test out of his pocket. “Something tells me that a friend wanted me to know I am going to be a father.”

“It was for sure not me,” storming out of the room Sam slams the door shut. “Y/N deserves better…”

“You must understand, it was Sam helping Y/N to keep ongoing. He was the one driving her to the first ultrasound as I was away on yet another mission. Sam was the one seeing your baby first,” Bucky huffs. “I thought you would find the test before you leave. I had hoped you would change your mind not come back months later…”

“I had to give Peggy and me a chance, Buck,” Steve doesn’t believe his own words. “Shit, no. Maybe I was just afraid to come back and find Y/N in another man’s arms. I didn’t think that she’s pregnant with my child.”

“I mean,” Bucky huffs. “You are adults, had sex, unprotected if I recall right according to your naughty confessions and you wonder she got pregnant?”

“That’s not what I mean, Bucky…”

“I like the colors,” Sam looks around your almost finished nursery. Wanda did a great job,” you nod, looking at the kittens Wanda painted on one of the walls. “The kittens are cute.”

“Wanda’s idea. The tree and the family were my ideas,” you painted a family of bears under a tree. They are having a picnic. Sam smiles when he sees a ladybug sits on the little bear's nose. “What do you think Sam?”

“Hmm…” you watch Sam nervously chewing on his lower lip, not meeting your gaze. He seems to hide something from you. “We need to talk, Y/N.”

“Is it Bucky? Did he get hurt? Or one of the others? Sam?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she grasps for your hand when Sam tries to tell you Steve is back. “Sam, just tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s back,” Sam chokes out. You blink a few times in confusion, look at Sam for confirmation before your legs are about to give in. “Shit, Y/N.” Sam catches your fall before you can hit the floor. “Wanda, a chair and a glass of water.”

“Y/N, no…”

“Is this a joke, Sam? This isn’t funny, you know,” you sniffle. Wanda offers you a glass of water whilst Sam tries to calm you. “I finally adapted to a life without Steve. He can’t just come around after he lived a life with Peggy to check on me. I don’t want to see the ‘old’ Steve.”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N,” Sam kneels next to you, gently squeezing your right hand. He looks up at you, giving you a soft smile. “He came back.”

“I don’t understand, Sam. Why would he come back? It’s not as if anything he wants waits in our time. Peggy is centuries away, just like the other Bucky,” Wanda watches you slump into yourself, not wanting anyone to see you are still heartbroken. “What does he want?”

“I am afraid he wants you,” Sam whispers, hand gently holding yours. “I told him to fuck off or something.” you laugh, squeezing Sam’s hand. He barely curses but if he does, Sam looks adorable. “I mean it, Y/N. You don’t have to see him.”

“Doll,” Steve sighs when you don’t open the door. Sam and Wanda guarded your house like hawks, didn’t let Steve get even close to your new home for over a week.

Today, Sam had to go on a mission and Wanda went for a grocery run so Steve took the opportunity and sneaked toward your house the moment Wanda left.

“Please, baby girl. I…I need to talk to you.”

“Why?” weakly you press the palms of your hands against the door. “I tried to move on and almost didn’t break down anymore only for you to come here and ruin my life once again.”

“Y/N, please. I know I fucked up, okay. Leaving you for a woman I barely knew was cruel, stupid, and the worst thing I ever did in my life. Please, let me at least see your face,” Steve begs, knocking at your door. “Please, doll.”

“You don’t deserve to see me,” you choke on your words when you turn your back toward the door, resting your back against the cool wood. “I don’t know why you came here, Steve. I am not enough…never was.”

“No, Y/N. I was never enough. I am a weak and pathetic coward, doll. It was me not deserving you but, please open the door,” your hands shake when you turn around to unlock the door. You take a deep breath before you face the man leaving you behind.

“What do you want, Steve? I don’t think there is anything I can offer,” you shriek when Steve kneels to wrap his arms around your waist. He peppers soft kisses to your swollen belly, sniffling your name repeatedly. “Steve…”

“Sam didn’t let me come here. Wanda was the same,” he pants, face nuzzling your belly. “Please, I want to be a better man for you. I will give the shield to Sam. From now on I’ll do anything to be the man you deserve. I want to be a family man,” you don’t know what to do as Steve is too strong for you to fend him off.

“Why now? When you left you were sure that you want to spend your life with Peggy, not me,” you sniffle, wiping a few tears off your cheeks. “Is it because you got to know I’m pregnant? Does Captain America feel responsible for the poor girl he impregnated? Is it your guilty conscience telling you to come here and take care of the disposed of girl you left behind?”

“Oh-Y/N,” Steve sighs, finally looking up at you. “I should have never left you, doll. I hurt you so deeply that you believe you never meant the world to me. I am so sorry, baby girl,” he whispers, getting up to wrap his arms around you.

Steve buries his face into your hair, inhales your scent deeply. He runs one hand over your back to soothe you when you start to cry.

“I love you so much, doll. How can I explain to you that I don’t know why I left you for Peggy? I don’t know how I could do so, but I regretted my decision the moment you closed the door behind you. I should’ve stayed but I was too blinded by my past to see my present.”

“You will leave again,” sobbing you hide your face in Steve’s chest. I was at my apartment a few days ago. I couldn’t forget about the shirt on the floor and your pillow. I…I sleep with your pillow to smell your cologne.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s heart breaks when you start to shake in his arms. “I hate myself for hurting you. I swear, I left to come here before I even knew you are pregnant. I told Peggy we will never work out. I never had sex with her.”

“Steve,” Sam storms into the house, Wanda, and Bucky hot on his heels as you hold tight onto Steve for dear life. “I told you to leave Y/N alone! Can you not for once think about someone else than yourself?”

“Sam,” Bucky places one hand onto Sam’s shoulder to calm his friend. “Look,” Bucky whispers, pointing toward you in Steve’s arms. “Let them talk things out. We can still kick Steve out when Y/N tells us so. It’s on her to decide if she wants to give him a second chance or not…”

Five years later...

“Daddy, daddy!” your daughter runs after Bucky, laughing as he acts as if he’s scared. “Look, I hunt Uncle Bucky and he’s scared,” Steve laughs watching Natasha Sofia run after his friend. “I bet I can catch Uncle Sammy too.”

“I know you can, sweetheart,” you smile, watching your five-year-old daughter chase after your friends. Sam runs slower to make sure Natasha can catch him, faking he’s too slow to run away. “Just don’t stumble again, Nat.”

“I won’t mommy! Daddy showed me how to run faster than Uncle Sam,” Sam makes a face, looking at Steve. “To your left, Uncle Sammy…” Natasha squeals, finally catching up with Sam.

“How do you feel, doll?” Steve runs one hand over your huge belly, humming as you close your eyes to enjoy his touch.

“How are Sam jr. and Bucky jr.?” Bucky asks. “Can we finally decide on a name? “Maybe we can name both after me.”

“I want one to wear my name,” Sam interjects. “Now let Y/N rest a bit before she agrees to name both after me.”

“Hey! I never agreed to name my boys after one of you,” pointing toward both men you narrow your eyes.

“We can make more and name them after our friends,” grinning Steve looks at you, something dirty in mind. “Just saying, we can always have more kids.”

“You’re lucky if I ever let you touch me again.” you huff. “I got one daughter chasing after our friends. A baby boy sleeping in his crib and two baby boys in my belly.”

“Doll,” your husband grins, hands running over your baby bump again. “I can’t help myself; I love seeing you full of my babies.” Steve whispers something dirty into your ear, making you giggle. “I’ll check on Steve jr. and you can sit here to enjoy our baby girl’s birthday and I’ll be right back.”

Watching Steve walk into your house you smile. Over the last five years, he showed you that he deserved a second chance.

The first months after he came back were difficult to you. You needed time to adjust to life with Steve being around again.

“He changed for you,” Bucky bounces your daughter on his leg, smiling as his friend carries your baby boy out of the house, smiling widely.

“I know. He became a family man for me…”

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#A family man #steve rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x y/n #steve x fem!reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #pregnant reader #daddy!Steve Rogers #angst #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes

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guardianofthepeanutwrites · 3 years

Text

Skirts and Dresses Part 1

This was supposed to be a 5+1 but will be a 6+1 because plot happened. It was born from an idea by my beloved Neko (I love you girl <3).

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and Part 5

Peter loves to wear skirts and dresses and is afraid of what people will think if they discover it. Endgame is WinterSpider.

Thanks to Gypsywoman13 for beta-reading <3

@starkeraddictbaby I think you wanted to be tagged :)

Good Bro Natasha

Peter checked the agenda he was carefully keeping updated to be sure there would be no one at the compound. After having double, no, triple checked, he went to the back of his closet where, hidden in a plastic bag, one of his most beloved possessions was kept.

Peter didn’t love it because of its beauty. He knew the Christmas skirt was ugly, an insult to every fashion designer that ever lived in NYC, but he loved how it felt to wear it and how pretty it made his hairless and muscled legs look.

Because he was afraid of how people would react if they discovered his little secret, he had never told anyone... not even his Aunt. Peter knew that most people would not care, but one person not accepting him would be enough to keep Peter from wearing his ugly snowman skirt. And he did not want that.

So, with the help of Karen, he carefully kept the agendas of the other Avengers. He could not wear it often as he liked, so he treasured every moment. He put the skirt on and started to do his homework for college.

Peter nearly died when he heard Natasha’s voice.

“What the fuck Parker?”

How he hadn’t heard or felt her come in, Peter would never know. It wasn’t the first time she sneaked up on him, but Peter was always more careful when he was wearing his skirt.

Peter closed his eyes, trying to ready himself for the backslash.

“You can’t be serious, this, this is a fucking insult.” The pain nearly made Peter fall. He had known it would come, but he had hoped it would be less violent. He felt his heart break.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You better be. Does Tony know you’re wearing that ugly thing? I mean, are those stains? Where did you find this garbage?” Peter blinked. What? He finally looked at Natasha. She was very close and stared at his beloved skirt with disgust.

“In...In the garbage bin?” he said with a small voice.

“In the-- Why?” She lifted one of her perfect eyebrows.

“I was looking for parts for my computer and found it there.” Peter was nervously playing with the seam of the skirt.

“Ok, no, there is no way I’m letting you keep that thing.” She went to his closet and threw him some pants. “We’re going to burn it, just so you know.”

Peter felt his heart sink. It was one thing to hate the fact he was wearing a skirt and another to burn his most beloved possession. However, maybe if he let her burn it, she wouldn’t tell the others. Peter turned around, changed the skirt for his pants, and left the problematic piece of cloth on the ground. Maybe if he left it there she would forget about it?

“What...What are you doing here? You should be in Washington right now.”

She looked at him, surprised.“They moved the meeting to tomorrow, which is good because I will have all the time to take care of that-- I don’t even know what to call it. Come on, we have a lot of things to do.” She grabbed Peter’s arm and started to walk hurriedly to the garage.

“Wh-where are we going?” Peter asked shyly, still hurting from the backlash.

“I know a place. They are discreet.” Peter felt horror build. Was that like those conversion camps? Would they torture him until he didn’t want to wear skirts anymore? “We could go to Macy's, but you hated it last time.”

Peter looked at Natasha, confused. “Macy’s? Are we going to buy pants?” Why else would she bring him to a clothing shop?

They finally arrived at the car and both climbed inside with Natasha at the wheel. It wasn’t her red sports car, but a more discreet SUV they used when they didn’t want people to recognize them. She started the car and began to drive.

“You need pants too? Not a problem.” Too? Before Peter could ask, Natasha started to talk again. “You will also need better underwear; we will buy a little bit of everything so you can try them out.” Even if he was hurting, Peter felt annoyed at that. There was nothing wrong with his underwear.

“I don’t need underwear, my underwear is alright.”

Natasha turned to look at him, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah? We will see. Boxers with a skirt are a big no in my opinion, but if you still want to wear them, it will be your choice. Do you want dresses too or are you only wearing skirts?” Because she was driving, she did not see Peter’s expression.

Wearing a… dress? Oh, yes, Peter wanted to wear a dress. He sometimes dreamed about those pretty skirts and dresses that would swirl when he walked.

“I--Both?” he said hesitantly.

“Ok, works for me.”

And at that moment Peter understood. Natasha wasn’t mad because he was wearing a skirt, but because it belonged in a garbage bin. Hope started to bloom in Peter’s heart. He thought back to everything that just happened with this new information.

“Underwear?” he asked, voice wavering. “What type of underwear?”

“I would say thongs? Maybe lace? As I said, we will buy a bit of everything and you will try them out to see what you’re comfortable with.”

Oh... Peter had never thought about wearing lace, but now he could not think about anything else. How would his ass look in lace?

Natasha’s voice made him startle.

“Please tell me you were not thinking I was mad that you were wearing a skirt.” When after a few seconds Peter said nothing, Natasha sighed. She took Peter’s hand into his, but kept her eyes on the road; slowing down. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t- I have no excuse.” Natasha started to park the car. ”I saw that disgusting thing on you and I didn’t think about why you would wear...that. I just--I am sorry Peter.” She seemed regretful, so Peter smiled.

“You--” Then, the reality of what happened earlier dawned on him and Peter jumped on Natasha to hug her hard. “Are we going to buy new skirts? And dresses? Am I going to have a dress? Can I have one that swirls? I always wanted a dress that I could swirl like a --” Peter froze completely.

Natasha moved back a little bit so that she could delicately take Peter’s face in her hand, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

“A what, little Spider? I won’t judge, I promise.” Her voice was so soft and so full of honesty that Peter could only answer her.

“A-A princess?”

Natasha smiled at him with so much fondness.

“Ok, let’s make a princess out of you then!” With those words, she quits the car.

Natasha buys him a couple of dresses, some skirts, and underwear, which is more than Peter could ever have hoped for. She tells Peter that when he feels feminine on the days that he does not dare to wear a dress, he can always wear some nice lace or silk with ribbons and soft colors.

After the multiple shops, she brings him to a spa where they both have their nails done. Peter keeps it nude for now, but absolutely loves it. In the end, it’s the start of a great tradition between the two spiders.

#MCU fanfiction #5+1 things #well it's 6+1 now #winterspider endgame #winterspider #natasha romanoff #peter parker #skirts and dresses

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supremeinlilac · 3 years

Text

Three’s not a crowd, especially when it’s us (1)

Summary: Its just part one idk what to say? oh, its a slow burn :) The idea came to me at 4am and I’ve just ran with it, it was initially going to be like 4 parts, and now its probably more like 10.

Word count: 2546

Warnings: mild language

You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to get through 2 months of being at Miss Robichaux's without accidently revealing your true ‘power’ to anyone. You thought that Ms Goode, of all people, would see through your bland lie about setting your families house on fire being the reason you’d ended up at the academy’s front doors. Instead, she’d simply nodded at you with a kind smile and a tour of the house.

You’d met all the witches, heard stories about the house and how this was now one of many schools like it that the Supreme had opened since rising. Some of the other houses were for the young witches and were more discreetly placed to avoid the inevitable hate crimes that witches still faced, while some were for the older women who’d always been taught to hide in the shadows and supress themselves rather than flourish. You’d fallen into the middle, gifted witches that were brought to learn under the Supremes’ close guidance and protection.

Your first night had involved sitting beside the fireplace with Zoe and Queenie, who were asking of your abilities and showing their own with stories of before Cordelia’s reign as supreme. You were awed by Queenies voodoo abilities, laughing at the time she’d stabbed her hand with a fork when Madison was being bitchy. You insisted she show you sometime. Madison was back at this point, you’d yet to meet her as she was off on some trip but Zoe had already advised you to stay clear. They weren’t even sure how she’d got back from hell, normally she would be the first to brag about something like that, but apparently she’d kept relatively quiet about it.

You’d met Ms Venable the next day, after hearing hushed rumours from the other girls about her sharpness and generally how they were all scared of her intimidating grandeur. She’d given you your lesson timetable with a quick flick of her eyes down your body at your state of undress when you’d come to the door, barking about having some decency. Her striking features and the perfect peaks of her red hair had you scrambling for something coherent to babble back to her as she turned and left you, mouth agape and staring after the strike of her cane on the ground.

Although Ms Venable had no magical abilities of her own, she was no less admired and feared among the other witches at the academy, her quick wit and sharp tongue more than compensating and aiding in her looming dominance. She prided herself in teaching the girls practical non-magic skills and subjects that they could put to use in due course when their time within the school’s halls ran out.

The girls had whispered and giggled to you about Ms Cordelia having a thing for Ms Venable, because of how she used to flush and stumble over her words in the presence of the woman. You hadn’t noticed in your brief week at the academy, mainly due to not having seen them together an awful lot in that time.

Over the weeks you found yourself watching their fleeting interactions, mentally noting the way Cordelia would shift under her gaze at the breakfast table. How she would be the first to pick up the fallen cane as it clattered to the ground; never using her telekinesis for it either, she would go out of her way to get up and retrieve it, small smile and glances exchanged as she did so.

You understood why the girls had picked up on Cordelia’s feelings for the redhead, but you were surprised at how they’d missed the obvious way Ms Venable would soften when she looked at Cordelia teaching when she’d walk past the open classroom door, or the way she’d grip her cane until her knuckles whitened when she caught one of the girls imitating the Supreme. You thought it was obvious, maybe it was just you. Maybe it was just that you’d grown rather fond of her and liked to observe the small habits that she’d do when annoyed or relaxed.

It was clear they didn’t just like each other, but that they were together, whether they formally declared it or not, to you at least; the lingering touches and glances when they thought no one was looking.

Over your weeks at the academy, you’d grown to appreciate the time you were able to spend alone with either women. You were always the first to volunteer your time in the greenhouse or to carry files for Ms Venable when she walked past a classroom with papers balanced precariously in one arm.

Cordelia had developed a soft spot for you, as an eager and caring student. You’d laugh and mess around with the plants in the greenhouse and share stories of times when your magic hadn’t quite gone to plan. You’d become infatuated with her laugh on one of these nights, when she’d let down all barriers and just enjoyed herself without worry.

Once, and at the time you’d totally thought yourself to be completely pushing your luck, you’d arranged a dinner for the pair of them out there, hauling Wilhemina’s chair outside from the kitchen so that she would be comfortable. You’d known that they’d both been stressed and hadn’t had much time for themselves away from the hum of the girls. Happy as always to oblige, you’d thought they’d appreciate the small moment to enjoy a meal together in the peace of Cordelia’s safe space.

They did, of course. Although it was only the Supreme who voiced her thanks, squeezing your shoulder tightly while Ms Venable shot you a momentary smile and a nod of approval. Since then, you wanted nothing more than her approval again.

***

At the dinner table, Madison had made some offhand remark about your magic which had sent ripples of barely contained laughter down the table. You’d looked up to Zoe who just gave a sympathetic grimace and a shrug, everyone else just continued sipping at the soup, an occasional slurp breaking the quietness. Everyone was so used to Madisons comments and attitude that they just took to ignoring it in uncomfortable silence.

You were not used to it. You didn’t understand why everyone could just sit and let her berate people as she did, you’d been brought up in kindness and empathy. Pushing your chair back, you emptied the contents of your bowl into the bin before quickly leaving the kitchen, guilty faces watching you leave. Cordelia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, knowing as the headmistress and supreme she shouldn’t stand for the way Madison talked to some of the girls, but she knew that aggravating her further would be a worse idea. Wilhemina’s hand came to settle discreetly on her thigh, squeezing slightly and grounding her in a silent way to tell her that it wasn’t her fault.

You’d slipped out into the greenhouse to let of some steam, moving objects around and letting yourself set random balls of paper on fire safely as an outlet for you to bubble your frustrations out through magic. After having done so, you settled into one of the chairs in the corner, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

It had been Ms Venable who came through the doors to find you, heaving a sigh as she lowered herself into the chair beside you and balanced her cane against the arm. She sat rigidly, as always, hands clasped in her lap and one leg balanced over the other. Allowing herself to observe you, she took in your slumped shoulders and tired face which you hid in your drawn up knees.

“Cordelia sent me.” She stated, straight to the point as always, and you lifted your head in acknowledgement.

She’d lied, Cordelia hadn’t sent her. The supreme had actually wanted to come herself but Wilhemina had said that she’d go, that she needed to talk to you anyway; but she’d never tell you that of course. She had a stature to uphold.

You sat in uncomfortable silence, neither one knowing what to say to put the other at ease. Wilhemina didn’t really know how to start conversations with anyone apart from Cordelia that didn’t begin with a barked command or condescending jab.

“Ignore Madison. That insolent girl needs to be put in her place.” She quipped; lips drawn into a thin scowl before softening as you looked up at her. “From what I’ve seen and been told, your magic is coming along quite nicely. You should be proud of your progress.” She added quickly, suddenly finding great interest in the hanging plants that Cordelia had been tending to over the past few days: a new addition to the greenhouse.

“No. she was right. I’m not upset about Madison; I’m upset because no one knows me. Not really.” You mused, an appreciating smile gracing your lips for a second at her words. It wasn’t that you were overly affected by Madisons words, it had just served as a reminder to how you were keeping everyone in the dark.

“What do you mean?” She asked softly, as soft as you’ve ever heard her talk, hand reaching to draw your knees out from under your chin so you could uncurl to speak to her properly. You inhaled a shaky breath, fingers digging crescents into your knees as you prepared to tell her the thing you’d been hiding for months.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” You asked hopefully, knowing it wasn’t something she could, or even would want to promise to you. She shook her head shortly, “you know I can’t promise you that.” Pushing it to the back of your mind, you decided to just blurt it out; now or never so to speak.

“I’ve been keeping my natural power a secret. I lied on my first day. I- I didn’t set my house on fire.” You admitted, head hanging shamefully and tears pricking at your vision. You didn’t need to look at Wilhemina to see the scowl that would inevitably be forming to replace the slight smile she’s had, at your stupidity.

“And you didn’t think Ms Goode needed to know of this?” watching you in disbelief, shaking her head and tutting. “You’ve been here long enough to know better, missy.” She scolded, making to get up by bracing her hands firmly against her knees and reaching for her cane.

You scrambled off your seat, frantically holding your hands up in front of you towards her in an attempt to stop her from going. Your hands found purchase on her wrists and you guided her slowly to sit back down, pushing slightly when she protested.

“No, no please- I mean, don’t go.” You pleaded, eyes wide, squatting in front of her so you could fall to a kneel, making sure your face was in her line of vision and she could see how scared the thought of having to tell Cordelia of your dishonesty was making you. Shuffling in place where you knelt, you quietly muttered your thanks when she settled back against the chair.

She scoffed audibly to make you aware of her distaste at the current situation but made no attempt to move your hands from where they now rested near her hands on her knees, or even to suggest that you move them yourself. Accepting that you weren’t going to let her leave until she’d listened, she let her curiosity pique and, raising her brow in question, she asked you shortly.

“What ability is so embarrassing that you decide to keep it from us all for so long? Lord knows it can’t be as bad as being a human gluten detector.”

You appreciated her dry attempt at humour to deflect from the uncomfortable silence you’d fallen into. Fidgeting your fingers against the fabric of her skirt, you remembered a dream you’d had where you’d told Zoe of your power and she’d turned the whole coven against you. Brushing it off, telling yourself that Zoe would never do that, you continued to admit to Ms Venable.

“I’m not even sure of it myself, I can’t find a name for it anywhere. I don’t even know if it has a name.”

“So it’s rare?” Wilhemina seemed to strike an interest then, straitening up and raising her eyebrows as if to prompt you to continue. She did this until she seemed to remember that she’s meant to be uninterested and she forced herself to scoff and reached to tweak her earring deftly between finger and thumb.

“It will have a name. Incompetence is the reason you cannot find it.” She stated coldly, lips pursed in intolerance. “That or your just looking in the wrong place,” she added, noting the way you looked down at your trembling and twitching fingers when she was mean.

You paused, having a momentary realisation of what you were doing before the thought was swiftly pushed to the side of your mind by the familiar pull of your magic at your fingertips.

“C-can I show you?” you blurted, almost clamping your hand over your mouth at your unexpected boldness.

“You most certainly will do no such thing, it’s not me that needs to be aware of your abilities, it is Ms Goode that you need to show.” She barked, defensiveness coming back out at your request. You tried not to take it to heart, knowing that that was just her way. Not that she would ever tell you, but Wilhemina felt a lot more secure talking about magic with Cordelia present, where she knew she wouldn’t be judged for having a less secure knowledge of the field. She liked to always be the most well versed in the room, hated to be spoken at about a topic she was new to.

“I can’t show Ms Goode without you.” You tried to explain, an itch of annoyance bubbling under your skin when she laughed at you again mockingly.

“I can’t show Ms Goode without you.” She mimicked, face pulled into a grimace which made you scowl, and exaggerating the words to a degree that just felt excessive, even for Ms Venables constant condescendence.

Your mouth fell open. You couldn’t believe this woman’s nerve.

Something suddenly snapped in your head at her incessant mocking and the condescending tone she used, and you found yourself moving your hands quickly from her knees to her hands, linking your fingers tightly before she could even react. You watched her eyes raise in surprise and the cocky smirk fall from her lips as she attempt to pull away unsuccessfully.

“What are you- get your hands off me!” She exclaimed; voice higher than normal in surprise as your quick movements caught her off guard.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the way her hands pulled within yours and the sting of her nails digging into the delicate skin of your palms as she tried to free herself. The heat of your magic burned under your skin, the annoyance you felt only serving as a fuel, directing all your power towards the woman in your grip.

When you felt the snap of your magic release, Wilhemina let out a cry of pain and you almost stopped.

Almost.

***

Part 2

Just to clarify, your powers do not involve giving people orgasms lmaoo. I will never try to leave anything on a cliffhanger ever again rip.

taglist : @pearplate @billiedeansbottom @pluied-ete @extraordinarilycelestrial@toujours-ensanglante@mssallymckenna @okpaulson @magnificent-paulsonn @shineestark @commanderspeach @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @amethyst-bitch @its-soph-xx,,if you want to be added just send me an ask :))

#cordelia goode x wilhemina venable x reader #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #cordelia goode x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable x cordelia goode #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #american horror story #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse

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icycoolslushie · 3 years

Text

THG Thomastair AU

“I wish we could find sanctuary,” Thomas said. “You know, with shelter and such.”

“But Thomas,” Alastair said, “you are my sanctuary.”

TW/CW: If you're reading this, you've probably read The Hunger Games books or watched the movies so this has the same stuff as in them!

Idea // OG post // Ask

Disclaimers: This has headcanons along with snippets. Hopefully it's not OOC. Any Persian is what my Iranian friend told me. I like to headcanon that all the districts have their own language. Warning: The plot might be non-existent. Also, if you see any kind of mistakes (grammar, spelling, etc.) please let me know! Kinda long :)

Thomas is from District 7

Alastair is from District 11

The president is Josiah Wayland

The Head Gamemaker is Maurice Bridgestock

Eugenia is part of a group to overthrow the Capitol

Barbara and Oliver died in a previous Hunger Games

It was like it was in the books

Alastair used to be in a relationship with Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, Charlotte Fairchild

Risa is Sona’s sister so Alastair’s aunt

Alastair volunteers for Cordelia

Cordelia struggles with him and finally says in “I love you” in Persian (dooset daram) before Alastair goes on the train

Cordelia is like Prim

Alastair’s mentor is Ragnor Fell

They be sassy together

Thomas’s mentor is Charlotte

Alastair’s stylist tells him Alastair should dye his hair back to black

In the opening ceremony, Thomas dresses as a tree and Alastair thinks how Thomas makes “a boring costume look beautiful”

Alastair has a suit on with leaves embroidered on it which Thomas later tells him “it was like nature blessed you”

Jem may or may not be an Avox Jem is Alastair’s Avox

Thomas Tanner is Thomas’s Avox

For training Alastair throws spears and pulls a 8

Thomas uses a broadsword in training and pulls an 8 as well

Thomas gets a compass rose tattoo from his stylist for the interview

The arena has a structure that looks like the Eiffel Tower at one end

The arena is covered in forests, except for the Cornucopia

When the canon sounds, Alastair runs toward the Cornucopia and escapes with a dagger to the forest

Thomas runs straight (ha!) into the forest

9 children die in the initial bloodbath

Alastair and Thomas both spend the night in trees about ten minutes away from each other

In the morning, Alastair hears rustling and eventually confronts Thomas

They first try to kill each other, but then they hear someone else and work together to fight the District 9 male tribute

Alastair puts his dagger at the tribute’s throat and stabs him there

Alastair doesn’t want to partner up and vice versa

“Alastair—I think you’d be a great person to team up with, but I . . . I don’t want to team up with you. I don’t want to team up with anyone. We—we might survive till the end, and then—” “No, Thomas, I understand. We’ll pretend this never happened. We’ll go our separate ways.” Thomas nodded, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Part of him had been hoping Alastair would disagree with him, even when it was reasonable. He ignored it and set about laying the food they’d gathered.

But they gather food and decide they’ll have a meal together and then go their separate ways

They make a meal of some fruits they find on trees and on the ground

Thomas just cannot eat the celery

They part ways

By the second night, fourteen people in total are dead

Thomas goes to the Eiffel Tower structure the next day

He climbs onto the first level and greets Alastair

Alastair’s leg is wounded

Alastair explains that the Careers fought him

The Careers include Augustus Pounceby and Clive Cartwright

“Tell me. Tell me who hurt you. I’ll kill them.” Alastair had never seen anyone so angry on his behalf that it unnerved him. “It doesn’t matter, it was the Capitol—” “Don’t,” Thomas said quietly. “Don’t try to downplay it. I want to make them pay.” Alastair paused. After a minute he said, “It was the Careers. The District 1 and 2 tribute. Augustus and Clive. They climbed onto here and started fighting me. I gave Augustus a good cut on the arm and Clive a nice scar on his cheek but they overpowered me. Augustus stabbed my leg. They left laughing.” “They didn’t finish you off?” Alastair shook his head. “I think they . . . wanted me to suffer. It isn’t like I can go anywhere, and I have no allies, so probably wanted to come back tomorrow and then finish me off. But it’s not like I’m going to last that long.” The last sentence caught Thomas off guard. “What?” “Aren’t you going to kill me?” Thomas thought about the District 1 tribute, Augustus, who had been saying that Barbara was weak before the Opening Ceremony. That Barbara, who had gotten him out of a scuffle with a Peacekeeper, was weak. That Barbara, who had volunteered for her cousin in the Reaping, was weak. He thought about the hate he had felt for the Career. Then he thought about graceful, elegant, bleeding Alastair in front of him, the way he had hugged his sister, the way he guarded himself, and decided. “No,” he said. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Thomas bandages Alastair’s wound

“Alastair, you’re hurt. Please let me wrap your leg in leaves and vines.” “Thomas, you don’t understand. I’ve always bandaged my own wounds. It’s not going to change now.” “Sometimes,” Thomas said, “it’s better to let others take care of you. They do a better job than you realize. Alastair, please. You’re bleeding. Let me help.” Alastair saw something in Thomas’s eyes: truth. He thought back to how many people would want to help him: his father, his mother, his aunt Risa . . . when he was young. As he grew up, all of them faced the same cruel system and all of them were expected to take care of their own wounds. Now, here was someone willing to help him when he should be killing him. It gave Alastair such a feeling of care and belonging that he nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone take care of him for once.

They eventually decide to team up

Thomas makes a meal out of things he finds in the forest

He and Alastair eat it

Alastair heals from his wound

By that night, nineteen people are dead

Augustus, Clive, and the District 8 female tribute are still alive along with them

Alastair takes first watch during the night, Thomas takes the second

Alastair gently moved his fingers across the compass rose tattoo that Thomas had gotten from his stylist. He felt Thomas’s pulse. He promised himself that that pulse would go on even when his own didn’t.

The next day Alastair and Thomas set off (Alastair’s leg is healed)

Augustus and Clive are waiting for them

Thomas kills Augustus, attacking with A LOT of force

Clive gets a good hit on Thomas with a sword on his left arm

Alastair and Clive fight, Clive flees finally while he’s bleeding from a dozen cuts

Alastair bandages Thomas’s wound with leaves and vines

“I love it when you say my name. Say it again.” “Thomas—Thomas, you’ve lost too much blood. You’re going delirious.” Thomas sighed softly. “I would go delirious if that meant I could hear you say my name one more time.”

They get a sponsor gift: a whole meal of steak and sides, which they finish that day

When Alastair bites into an apple, Thomas wants to kiss him

Both of them fall asleep at night

When they wake up, they’re in a prison; a Capitol prison

They were in prison. But even if they were in hell, Alastair wouldn’t have minded. They were together.

They lie in each other’s arms, seeking warmth

“Why are we in prison? What did we do?” Alastair demanded, getting up as Josiah Wayland stuck his ugly face in front of the bars. President Wayland’s lip curled. “It isn’t you that did something, it’s your family.” Thomas gasped sharply. “Eugenia.” The president smiled cruelly. “So you do know her crime.” Thomas swallowed. Alastair put his hand in Thomas’s. “What did my family do?” Alastair asked, trying to change the topic. “Why, your sister did the same thing,” Josiah Wayland said. This time Alastair gave a sharp gasp. Thomas squeezed his hand, and Alastair drew a bit of comfort from him. But his mind was on Cordelia, his little sister, what would happen to her— Wayland, the monster he was, smiled wider as he saw Alastair and Thomas despairing their sisters’ fate.

Cordelia joined the same rebel group Eugenia was in

“But why are we here? What did they do that you had to take us out of the Games?” Thomas demanded when he had finally calmed down. It seemed that all the Lightwood siblings would all die in their youth. “As soon as they are in our custody, they will be executed. In front of you two. Everyone thinks the two of you killed each other. After they’re dead, both of you will be executed.” Thomas swallowed. “Why? Why will you execute us?” “Your sisters should have thought about your safety before they did what they did. At least you’ll be able to tell them goodbye. If the executioners give you the chance,” President Wayland added before he gave another cruel smile and left.

Thomas and Alastair despair over their and their sisters’ fates

“We’ll fight them. I don’t care. We’ll fight the Capitol. We’ll make them pay for what they did to Barbara and Oliver and Jem and Will and Tessa and my mom and every single person they hurt. We’ll make them pay, Alastair.”

Thomas sighed. “If only we had hope.” “I don’t think about hope, Thomas. I think about you. You’re my hope.” And now I’m going to lose you, Alastair wanted to add, but he didn’t. And then I won’t have any hope left.

“The odds were never in our favour, Thomas,” Alastair whispered, closing his eyes. Then he added softly, “And they never will be.”

Letter addressed to Alastair Carstairs, District 11 male tribute of the 56th Hunger Games, from Charles Fairchild, son of the mayor of District 11, found crumpled in a trash bin of the Training Center floor 11

Taglist: @della-vacker-supremacy @themadhatter999 @writeforjordelia @theenchanteddreamer Also tagging @jurdan-my-beloved who originally requested the headcanons and @youngreckless Lmk if you wanna be added or removed!

#thg #thomastair #thomastair au #the hunger games #headcanons #ace writes #thg thomastair au #thomastair week #tlh #tsc #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #Yes I used the sanctuary scene for the title sue me

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 5)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: nearly 2.5k

warnings: vague description of a wet dream, some sensual implied stuff (??),

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll

In all your life, you’d never had a wet dream. Not even in high school when so many of your peers were coping with puberty and budding sexuality in similar ways— not even when you’d wanted to have one about David Kapoor, the cutest guy in senior year who didn’t even know you existed but that you were somehow convinced was going to fall madly in love with you one day.

It never did work out for you two, but you’d finally managed to have a wet dream. This one, though, was about Sebastian.

In your dream he had cornered you in the kitchen, kissing you deeply before tossing you onto the table and— well, the rest doesn’t bear repeating. It was all very ‘discount bin romance novel’ wasn’t it? The exotic, rugged farm boy roughly taking the formerly-prudish businesswoman in the middle of the house, too deep in the throes of passion to care if someone walking by saw them.

You didn’t find it all that sexy by the time you woke up; moreso just humorous. That’s preposterous, you thought to yourself, nobody’s ever gonna love me like that.

It was something your husband had said to you once. You couldn’t even remember what the context was anymore, but clearly it had had an impact on you to be repeating it internally now. Just last week, Mrs. Alberti had gotten on your case for speaking poorly of yourself. Clearly, the things you said about yourself to others were nothing against what you said about yourself to yourself.

Your papers had only taken a day to dry, but the ink was pretty severely smudged. Knowing your publisher wouldn’t accept them in a manuscript, you resolved to retyping the most damaged ones— a good mindless task to do while you pondered your next steps plot-wise. You’d seen Sebastian less for the past week, and it was no accident; you’d been avoiding him because you were trying to nip this in the bud before it got any worse. Your divorce isn’t final yet, you need to heal. This is fantasy, not reality. You barely know each other. Your divorce isn’t final. Your divorce. Isn’t. Final.

That was the mantra you found yourself repeating as you retyped the waterlogged sheets; so much for the plot-pondering plan, eh?

You heard someone coming up the stairs, and you knew it was him because the steps were coming too quickly to be Mrs. Alberti. “Come in,” you instructed before he’d even knocked.

“Bună ziua,” he greeted as he opened the door, leaning inside. “Am pregătit cina, ai vrea să mănânci?”

“Hm?” you asked as you turned around in your chair, adjusting your reading glasses. However, his question became more obvious through context when you saw he had oven mitts and an apron on, and was holding a wooden spoon. “Oh, um, I’ll be down for dinner in a minute. Soon.” You held up a few fingers, hoping he would successfully interpret them into minutes.

“Arăți bine în ochelarii aceia,” he motioned, pointing towards you.

“I’m sorry… what?” you asked, not sure at all what he could be talking about.

“Ochelari. Sunt drăguți,” he re-emphasized, but it was useless as you gave him another confused look. He sighed, straightening up a bit as he began a new method: “Îmi plac,” he said, pointing to himself and then giving a thumbs up, “ochelarii tăi,” he pointed to you, and then made circles with his fingers and brought them up to his eyes.

You laughed a little, but you were pretty sure you got what he meant. “You like my glasses?” you clarified, reaching up to wiggle them on your face a bit.

“Da,” he grinned. “Pari inteligent.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, and he nodded back as he shut the door and his footsteps faded back into the kitchen.

Once a few more pages had been redone, you gave your hair a quick combing before heading down for dinner with Sebastian. It smelled a little strange by the time you went downstairs, but when you swung open the door to the kitchen, you were instantly hit with a wave of acidic air, forcing you to wince and cough. Even that didn’t help much, and you forced your eyes shut as they stung.

“Jesus Christ,” you yelped, “the fuck are you cooking? Tear gas?!”

“Oțetul te irită?” he asked, not sounding as concerned as you would’ve hoped considering your obvious pain. It was like you could taste it in the air, and it wasn’t until you managed to open your burning eyes again that you realized what it was: vinegar, in a huge jug right next to the pot he was boiling it in.

“You’re boiling vinegar?” you realized incredulously. “God, Europeans are fucking weird.”

He just looked back at you with bewildered bemusement.

“In America,” you tried to explain, “we don’t eat vinegar. We clean our floors with it.” You pointed to the jug and made a motion meant to indicate scrubbing a surface, and he laughed a little.

“Americanii sunt prea sensibili,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning back to the stove to stir his pot of disinfectant which he apparently planned to serve you as a meal. “Am avut ciorbă de oțet de când eram copil.”

You’d typically considered yourself an adventurous eater— even with vinegar-pickled things, like kim chi which you’d learned to acquire a taste for— but this one put you to the test. Considering the smell alone had singed your sinuses, you were nervous what would become of your innocent tastebuds. But after he served the soup (a dark orange color, so apparently it wasn’t just the boiled vinegar) into a bowl for you and another for himself, you found the taste of it oddly pleasant when you sipped it gently from your hesitant little spoon.

“Vezi, nu e așa de rău,” he smiled gently as he watched you fail to recoil in disgust from the flavor.

“Just like ma used to make, huh?” you chuckled as he ate the soup with incredible speed, even going as far as to lift the bowl to his lips and drink the last few sips that way.

Eating dinner in silence with him was unexpectedly comfortable. “You wanna know something funny?” you found yourself mumbling aloud. “I enjoy talking to you more than anyone I ever did back home, and you can’t even understand me.”

His smile softened as he stared back at you, apparently sensing the change in your tone as you spoke.

“See, right there, that’s it: you’re listening to me. You know it’s useless, you know you won’t be able to tell what I’m talking about, but you’re listening anyways. Over two billion English speakers on the planet and none of them have listened to me like you do.”

Then you heard yourself, and it was so heart-breaking that you had no choice but to laugh. It was just a chuckle at first, but then you couldn’t stop it, even when you realized how confused Sebastian would be. Everything is funnier when you know you shouldn’t laugh, and soon you could barely breathe as tears warmed your eyes from the force of it.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to spit out between your fits of laughter, but it was barely comprehensible anyways. Sebastian began to laugh with you, if hesitantly and with a hint of confusion.

“De ce râdem?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, calming down a bit, “I’m sorry I just… I was just imagining what my husband would say, if he knew I was here…” you trailed off as you laughed again, starting over. “If he knew I was here, falling for someone I’ve never even spoken with.” You shook your head, resting your face in your hands as you chuckled lightly. “Oh, he’d hate this. He’d tell me I was out of my mind.”

With a slow sigh, your laughter subsided as you wiped the wetness from your eyes.

“He’d be right, but… I don’t really care,” you decided. “He’s not here. If he wanted to find me, he would. And maybe it’s because he’d hate this that I’m having so much goddamn fun doing it.”

When you looked at Sebastian again, his face was serious, yet anything but stern. Suddenly, you weren’t thinking about your husband anymore. Of course you logically understood how odd this all was, how impossible it was for you to be slowly finding yourself in love with someone like him, but it felt right, and true, and real. It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense in every way that mattered.

“I’ll help you clean,” you offered as you stood up, realizing you’d gotten lost in your train of thought and probably stared at him for a bit too long. He stood up with you, helping you gather the used dishes and letting you wash them in the sink while he put the remaining soup in the refrigerator as leftovers for another time. “I’ll cook for you tomorrow,” you promised, “something real bland, like the English cook.”

“Sper că nu intenționați să gătiți pentru mine cândva, nu suport mâncarea occidentală,” he mumbled as he continued to wipe down the countertop with a damp towel.

With the kitchen clean, you knew you should get back to writing your book, but you were compelled instead to read somebody else’s— so, as you slipped onto the couch with one of a few of your favorites that you’d brought with you, Sebastian summoned the same copy of Dracula you’d seen him reading a few times and took the loveseat. Not much else happened after that, save for you shivering from a draft and him tossing a throw blanket on you.

“Ce carte citești?” he asked you eventually, breaking the silence. When you looked up, he was pointing at your book. “Book?”

“Right,” you laughed, “I taught you that. My book, uh, it’s good.” You closed it, leaving your finger inside to mark your place as you showed him the front cover. “On the Road? Ever heard of it?”

He just cocked his head to the side.

“Jack Kerouac?” you continued. “It’s about going on a long journey in search of… freedom.”

“Acesta este cel despre zombi?” he asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, wishing more than ever that you could know what he was saying. He smiled and got back to his own reading. Indulging yourself for a moment, you watched his face as it fell into a neutral expression while he read, his eyes trailing along the page as he continued to read. You didn’t realize it, but when you returned to reading your own book, he got his chance to look at you.

A long day of writing meant you had more than earned an evening to relax by the fire; late summer became early fall, and early fall turned into the need for a fireplace so much faster than you’d anticipated. The days were temperate, sure, but as the sun began to sink lower, so did the warmth. You started your evening with a hot shower, though you didn’t let yourself get too greedy with the limited supply of hot water, knowing Sebastian relied on the same supply for his own baths. When you finished, you dressed yourself in a fluffy lavender robe, feeling especially pampered when you put on a little moisturizer before heading downstairs to cozy up with the fire. You were already getting chilly, the heat from the shower fading as your wet hair and bare feet cooled you quickly. Therefore, it was more of a scurry to the fireplace, which you hadn’t expected Sebastian to be tending or you wouldn’t have come down in a robe. He’d seen you in less (namely, his shirt and nothing else, which was horrifically embarrassing) but something about this felt more intimate, like all your defenses had been washed away in the shower, too. Didn’t help that he was shirtless, again. Wasn’t he cold in this weather?! Must be all that muscle keeping him warm.

“Bună seara,” he greeted.

“Good evening,” you returned. Stepping closer, you rubbed your hands together as you felt the hot air radiate towards you. “It’s nice,” you sighed contentedly.

He smiled back at you, moving the logs slightly with the iron poker. Sparks jumped and fell off as he shifted them, joining the ashes below— you’d always thought fire was so beautiful, even if it was dangerous, and you took in a long breath through your nose to smell the tinge of smokiness in the air.

“Te încălzești?” he asked quietly as he set the poker aside and stood beside you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing through the fabric of the robe to try to warm up a little faster. Seeing you shiver, he reached out and rubbed your arms for you, which made you tense up slightly before relaxing and breathing out. “Mai bine?”

You nodded a little, your gaze drifting slightly.

“Warm?” he asked, making your eyes jump back up to his. You swallowed dryly as he looked back at you.

“Warm,” you repeated, “yeah. Good job… when’d you learn that?”

He didn’t answer, watching your hands as they reached out for his arms, finally making delicate contact with his tanned skin before drifting up to his biceps, his shoulders, and finally his chest. He put his own hands on top of yours and held them there, looking back at you as your heart started to beat rapidly and with no signs of slowing down. “Warm,” he repeated, only slightly above a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed hoarsely, “very, very warm…”

He smiled a little; it wasn’t mischievous, it wasn’t conniving or predatory or malicious. It was subtle but gentle in a way you had absolutely no plan to save yourself from, no protection, no armor, no neutral territory. There was only heat, so strong that your toes weren’t cold anymore and you didn’t even remember that your hair was still damp. Not only did you let his heat consume you, but you didn’t even think to stop it, to swallow your desire down, to run away and say goodnight and hide in bed from the icky scary feelings. No, you looked right back at him and let those eyes pierce right through you, that cold blue changed entirely with the warm firelight reflecting in them.

“Do you want to come to my room?” you asked slowly. The words were useless, but a glance back to the stairs that led to your door and back at him asked the same question with much more efficacy.

He nodded, and you stepped backwards as he followed you: across the house, up the stairs, and to your room. You opened the door. He shut it behind you.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan rpf #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

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the in-between | i (kuroo tetsurou)

➵ it took you and kuroo 24,000 words and 69 pages of pure behemoth far too long to learn that love was never singularly defined. it can be both striking and understated, sudden and unhurried, gentle and all-consuming. and most of all, it can be anything else in-between.

wc: 9k (part 1 of 3)

warnings: f!reader, good old f2l (do i write anything else?), depictions of anxiety & depression, cursing

a/n: i cannot thank @w-yuren enough for all the love and care she poured into beta-ing this :( i’m honestly so touched you worked through this absolute monstrosity w me (and put up w my incoherence) ren u deserve the world <3 (also @jupiturde erin ilysm thank you for reading this over So Many times you’re incredible!!)

m. list | ch. 1 ↠ ch. 2

"I'll help you," Kuroo sighed. "On one condition."

The scant bit of confidence you’d worked up was starting to crumble. You clenched your fists, steeling yourself. At this point, you're willing to do just about anything.

"Manage the volleyball team for a while."

Your face fell. "What, really?"

"Mhm," Kuroo nodded, still slouched over his desk.

"You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh."

This wasn't quite how you’d expected the situation to go. And quite frankly, you were just upset that you were even in this situation in the first place. But, who wouldn't be?

Begging Kuroo Tetsurou to help you with chemistry wasn’t a situation you’d envisioned yourself ending up in. But, something had to be done about those abysmal exam marks. Your grades in everything else were fine; good, even. Certainly high enough to earn you your spot in Class 5. But that chemistry grade was something to be concerned about. Your homeroom teacher had warned you as much on the very first day of the school year.

And for the handful of weeks since, you’d been driving yourself mad trying to think of a solution. Hard work had only gotten you so far, and none of your friends felt they were competent enough to tutor you. You needed help – desperately.

So there you stood, in front of the desk of a boy you’d never had a proper conversation with before, asking for his help – all while uncomfortably aware that this was cutting into his lunch break.

You hadn’t quite known what to expect from this interaction. You weren't really friends, after all; you’d been vaguely aware of him over this past year and a bit, but knew little, if anything, about him. All you knew was that he was topping the grade when it came to chemistry, and therefore, turning to him in this time of need might help.

You hadn't expected this ultimatum.

"Why?"

It was a genuine question.

"Hm?"

"Why ask me to be your manager?" You asked, tilting your head at him. "I know nothing about volleyball."

"You'll learn."

You frowned. "This is the only way you'll tutor me?"

"It's not the only way," Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow at you. "But it'd certainly bump it up my priority list."

The worst thing was that it didn't even seem like he was trying to be a dick.

Right, you thought. Pros and cons.

Cons: being a manager would eat up a lot of your time. Presumably. Maybe. You didn't have any real idea.

Also, it would mean spending a lot more time around sweaty boys. That sounded kind of gross.

And what time did practice finish? Walking home after sunset was always a little scary. Certainly scary enough to stoke a bit of anxiety.

More importantly, it sounded like responsibility. Maybe you were overestimating just what being a manager meant, but it sounded like there was plenty of stuff you could mess up.

Pros: it'd look really, really good on your college applications.

Just like a passing chemistry grade would. Which you weren't going to get all on your own.

“It doesn’t have to be for long,” he offered, raising an eyebrow at you. “Just a couple of months. And I’ll be your resource to use as you please.”

You blinked at him, baffled at his choice of phrasing.

“How about you just drop by practice this afternoon?” He suggested, balancing his chin on his fist. “You can get a feel for it.”

You sighed.

“Alright.”

You were willing to do just about anything, after all.

✧ ✧ ✧

Teenage boys, no matter how polite or kind or accommodating, are always scary in packs.

That little revelation came to mind as you pressed yourself meekly against the wall of the gym, watching a gaggle of boys running back and forth, jumping and hitting and shouting. Part of you wanted to melt into the wall, hoping that none of these giants would pay you much attention.

You’re painfully aware of one of them staring at you; a first-year, judging by his use of honorifics. He’s tallish, but not enough to be scary, with close-cropped hair and grumpy eyebrows. There’s a certain intensity to him – he seemed like the sort of person with too much tenacity for his own good.

And yet, he seemed terrified of you. Was he the sort of boy who couldn’t talk to girls?

You smiled to yourself. Such dichotomy in one personality, huh?

There was another boy that caught your eye. A quiet one, with chin-length black hair who seemed to want to sink into the ground. He didn’t look like the sort of boy you’d expect to find on a high school sports team. He was a little shorter than everyone else – except for Yaku, who’d greeted you quite amiably when you’d first arrived.

But Yaku seemed like he wanted to be there. Like he enjoyed it. This kid? He looked like he just wanted to melt into the shadows. He always flinched whenever anyone called out to him. Hell, he seemed to flinch even when someone so much as looked at him. Was he okay? Should you ask if he’s okay? Should you point him out to Kuroo? But Kuroo had already spoken to him a few times…

Well, checking in with people’s well-being would be part of your job as a manager, right? It’d be your duty to make sure that the club members were doing okay.

But practice was still going. You’d have to put a pin in that thought.

The third years were frightening, as expected. But, you felt as though your upperclassmen would always be somewhat scary. The captain had traded a handful of words with you – hellos, nice to meet yous, a what are you even doing here – but he hadn’t made any particular point to help you out.

That job was left to the coach, who, thankfully, seemed quite kind. You had said very little to him, but you could tell that he loved his job just from the serene smile that graced his face as he watched his team go at it.

Practice was over before you knew it. The sun was setting outside the windows, the sky blushing orange. You bit your lip. Maybe you’d be able to get home before it got too dark…

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the gym floor. Maybe you should try talking to one of the boys… Yaku had always been friendly. Maybe he’d tolerate a conversation with you? Oh, what about Kai? He’d been very quiet, but he seemed nice… There was Kuroo, too…

You pressed your lips together, eyes scanning over the gaggle of boys in front of you as your mind ran through the pros and cons all at once.

You frowned. The third years were yapping at that quiet boy; whatever they were saying, it didn’t seem exactly friendly. You froze. Should you do something? Was this normal? Was it a problem? He looked terrified – not that he showed it outright, but it was in his eyes.

Kuroo was standing behind him, saying something to one of the third years. You couldn’t quite hear them, but Kuroo’s expression was… cold. Not confrontational, just unyielding. Whatever he’d said, the third years stalked away.

You watched closely as Kuroo’s expression softened as he looked at the shorter boy. He looked concerned. Were they friends?

“Oi, manager chick!”

You cringed. It’s one of the third years – not the captain, but someone you’d noted had quite the nasty serve.

“Help clean up!”

“Right!” You gave a quick half-bow, your head flicking around almost frantically as you looked for something to do.

You settled for collecting stray balls, rushing them back to the ball bins. All the while you watched the sky darken beyond the gym windows – and with it, your anxiety began to blossom.

By the time you were picking up your bag to go home, the sky was positively black. You bit your lip as you stared out the gym windows, your eyebrows a little furrowed.

“Hey.”

You looked up, a little startled. Kuroo, forehead slick with sweat and cheeks tinged red from exertion. You resisted the urge to scrunch up your nose. Being this close to a sweaty teenage boy wasn’t high on your priorities list.

“What’d you think?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a towel.

You shrugged. “Seems intense.”

“But you don’t hate it, right?” He smiled. It’s hopeful. Almost pitifully so.

You bit the inside of your cheek. In truth, you didn’t. There’s something quite fun about watching them play volleyball up close. They all got so into it. It was always nice, watching people care about something so deeply that enjoyment seeped through every part of their being.

“We’ll see,” you said. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He smiled brightly at that half-promise. Brightly enough that you knew you didn’t want to let him down.

This side of him was already a far cry from that trickster-like figure you’d negotiated with this morning.

“Hey, uh…” He cleared his throat, one hand finding its way to the back of his head. “I was wondering… did you need me to walk you home? I know it’s getting kind of late, so…”

You felt something that’s not quite elation, but certainly a bit more intense than relief. Tokyo’s a safe enough place, yes, but that fact’s never enough to quell the anxiety you’d always felt from walking home in the dark.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” You tried to make your smile look relaxed and natural, but you knew some hint of tension had made its way in there.

“Cool,” Kuroo said, giving you a little nod as his eyes scanned your face. He relaxed his shoulders a bit, slouching down a little. Was he… trying to make himself smaller? “But, uh… where do you live?”

By some miracle, it’s not all that far from his place. You caught the relief on his face, even if he made an effort to hide it. Would he really have walked you all the way to your house, even if it wasn’t in the same area?

He didn’t give you time to think about it, turning around and waving a hand in the air.

“Hey, Kenma!”

Your brows rose instinctively as the shy kid scurried over, head hunched down and hands stuffed into his pockets.

“This is Kenma,” Kuroo smiled, nodding at him. “He’s my next-door neighbour.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled, tilting your head at him.

“Yeah,” Kenma nodded in a quiet response, not quite able to meet your eyes. You didn’t press it. You offered him your name quickly, a bit like an afterthought, but Kenma gave you a little nod in recognition.

“You guys ready to go?” Kuroo looked between the both of you, tilting his head at the door.

You glanced over at Kenma. He didn’t glance back.

“Yeah,” you nodded, relieved that you wouldn’t have to walk the dark streets on your own.

✉

[YOU] 7:21 PM: hello! Is this kuroo?

[Kuroo] 7:34 PM: you got it

[YOU] 7:36 PM: thank goodness! I just wanted to say, thank you for walking me home today. I was a bit worried about it, but I didn’t want to impose

[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: not a problem. I’m more than happy to do it again tomorrow

[Kuroo] 7:38 PM: since you are coming to practice, right?

[YOU] 7:40 PM: Sure :)

✧ ✧ ✧

Kuroo Tetsurou hadn’t been what you’d expected.

For one thing, he’d actually made good on your deal. You’d half-expected him to bail on tutoring you – though you couldn’t exactly say why. But, you supposed it would be hard for him to dodge the ire of his club manager. Regardless, he dedicated most afternoons to helping you study.

You’d meet up in the library before practice and you’d always start with chemistry. He was actually kind of good at explaining the concepts to you in a way you understood, without all the bells and whistles. He had a way of simplifying the concepts to their bare bones. That’s not to say that it wasn’t difficult; you still felt like you’d been left far, far behind. But, Kuroo was something of a comfort.

Somehow, you’d end up working on other subjects. Apparently, Kuroo’s surprisingly bad at literature. He was doing well enough, but it was something he just couldn’t wrap his head around. Maybe you’d been a bit gung-ho about offering your help, but you were just glad you finally had something to offer in this arrangement. Even though you were still managing the volleyball team, overwhelming as that could be sometimes.

But, you’d made a deal, and the whole manager business was less scary than you’d first thought. And you felt that with time, you’d get the hang of it. Maybe.

More often than not, your study session before practice wasn’t enough time to cover all the content you needed. So, sometimes, you’d continue it after practice, holed up in the library until you got kicked out. Kenma usually stuck with you guys, sitting in the corner with whatever game console he’d brought that day.

And without fail, Kuroo walked you all the way to your house every night. And during those walks, you talked. Rather animatedly.

“What I’m saying is that the divide between the arts and the sciences is arbitrary,” Kuroo shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “When they work together, incredible things happen. Genuine art happens.” He cocked his head at you, that perceptive grin of his spread across his face. “You’d really disagree with me on that?”

“I didn’t say I disagree,” you grinned. “I’m just surprised that you’re not one of those sciencey people who thinks that the arts are worthless.”

He scoffed at that, shaking his head. “Excuse you. I’ve got more nuance than that.”

“Sorry for doubting you,” you giggled.

“You better be.”

The thing you’d been most surprised about, above everything else, was just how enjoyable it was to talk to him. How easy it was to get lost in a conversation that most of your other friends might get bored by. It’s not that your other friends treated you badly, but Kuroo had a way of naturally drawing out your thoughts, and he usually treated them with enough respect to engage with them. Of course, there were times when he loved to tease, and you’d learnt to not take it too personally.

Kuroo Tetsurou was far more interesting than you’d first given him credit for. And you felt kind of bad for that. You’d known he wasn’t just some dumb jock – he wasn’t topping chemistry for nothing – but you hadn’t expected him to be so… clever. So playful. So fun to talk to.

You were beginning to feel that maybe, just maybe, he was someone you could end up being quite close to.

✉

[YOU] 10:41 PM: hey, kuroo?

[Kuroo] 10:46 PM: what's up?

[YOU] 10:47 PM: i was just wondering, why did you ask me to become manager?

[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: oh ahaha

[Kuroo] 10:48 PM: i thought having an extra pair of hands around would help the coach out a bit

[YOU] 10:48 PM: wait really

[YOU] 10:48 PM: that's it?

[Kuroo] 10:50 PM: ??????

[YOU] 10:51 PM: you were so seedy about it!

[Kuroo] 10:51 PM: was i?

[YOU] 10:52 PM: i–

[Kuroo] 10:53 PM: :)

✧ ✧ ✧

“Kenma wants to quit.”

Your head shot up, turning to Kuroo with wide eyes. “What?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, one hand raking through his hair. “The third years have been giving him a really rough time.” He bit his lip, glancing at you. “You’ve seen it yourself.”

You swallowed. “I hoped I was just being too sensitive, but…”

Kuroo groaned, running a hand down his face. “They’re such assholes.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. The third years had almost made you want to quit in the early days. They were scary, sharp, unrelenting. But they’d left you alone pretty quickly once you’d settled into the thrum of your responsibilities.

Kenma hadn’t been so lucky.

“Is he okay?” You murmured, brows knitted together. “I mean, I know he’s getting picked on, but is he… is he… I don’t know…”

“I get it,” Kuroo sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. He doesn’t really talk about that sort of stuff.”

You set your pen down on the dining table, shifting in your chair to face him directly.

Practice had been cancelled for the afternoon, and Kuroo had bustled you out of school before you even had a chance to ask why. You’d been surprised when he had asked if the two of you could study at your place that afternoon – and some part of you had dreaded what your parents might say about you bringing a boy home – but you’d conceded. He’d seemed stuck in his head; something not unusual for him, but he’d been just withdrawn enough to pique your concern.

This must’ve been why.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I don’t want to push him too hard or anything, but I don’t think he’s making the right choice.”

You bit your lip.

“Why?” You asked, feeling bold.

“Huh?”

“Tell me why you don’t want him to quit,” you said. “Other than the obvious.” You sat up a little straighter, grabbing your notebook and picking up your pen. “We can brainstorm together.”

“Other than the obvious?” He tilted his head at you.

“You know,” you shrugged. “I know you want him to stay around because he’s your best friend, but... there’s more to it, right?”

“Well…” Kuroo swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as he leant back in his chair. “We’re not gonna get very far without him.”

You scribbled that down quickly. “Why’s that?”

“He’s a good strategist,” Kuroo said carefully, “And he’s great at running through all the potential outcomes on the spot. And nobody on the team’s as observant as he is.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you transcribed. You weren’t narcissistic enough to think you knew Kenma better than Kuroo did. Nor did you want to presume you were closer to the second-year than you actually were. But you wanted to help.

“Why don’t you… explain that to him?” You asked, peering down at your notebook.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… just tell him the logical reasons you want him to stick around,” you shrugged. “I think he’d respond well to that.”

“I guess…” Kuroo pursed his lips, looking at you with a frown.

“What I’m trying to say is that… maybe putting it into terms that’ll resonate with him is the best way to go.” You weren’t quite sure if your point was getting across. You just had to hope that he understood.

“I get you,” he nodded, crossing his arms. “I dunno if it’ll work though.”

“He’ll listen to you,” you mused, propping your hand on your chin.

“Huh?”

“It’s obvious you mean a lot to him,” you shrugged. “Even if he doesn’t really use his words to express that.”

Kuroo blinked at you, a touch of pink to his cheeks.

“I mean, he’s stuck it out with volleyball this long, hasn’t he?” You smiled at him, watching his cheeks grow even pinker. “That’s because of you.”

He cleared his throat as he looked down at his lap. It was strange to see him so… speechless. He was the sort of person that always had a comeback. You were never able to get a one up on him. Sincerity, however, seemed to be his hamartia.

“I just… I wanna go as far as I can with this team,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, me and the other second years… when we first joined the team, we were asked about our goals.”

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “We all said that we wanted to win nationals.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling you all this. He didn’t know where it came from. But he knew he’s grateful to be able to just talk. To share this with someone.

“Yaku and I used to fight all the time,” he smiled sheepishly, casting his gaze at you.

“I can see that,” you giggled. There was always a little fire between the two of them; it’d given you a good laugh many times.

“It was kind of stupid, but… we got over it. We learned to work together,” Kuroo sighed.

“I feel bad for poor Kai,” you smiled.

Kuroo laughed. “Yeah…” He sighed as he leaned over the table, resting his chin on his folded arms. “Nekoma used to be hot shit, you know.”

“Did we?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Made it to nationals a couple of times. But, we sort of… fell off. We haven’t been as good as we could be for a while. And… I want to change that.”

He pressed his lips together, his brows furrowing. “We can’t do that if we don’t work together. And I know that sounds obvious, but… we need to focus on our teamwork more. We’ll only be great if we all learn to rely on and trust each other. We’ve gotta make the best use of all our strengths while covering our weaknesses.”

You nodded, making a little noise of agreement. You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to him. This side of Kuroo – this genuine, honest one – was quickly becoming your favourite.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, sitting up straight. “Didn’t mean to ramble at you there.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You shook your head. “Ramble all you’d like.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you for that, but he was smiling.

“Hey, Kuroo?” Normally, you wouldn’t have thought to ask the questions that were currently poking at the back of your mind. But he’d just been so honest, so open with you in a way he’d never been before. Maybe it was okay to be a little bit curious. Just this once.

“Hm?”

“I have a genuine question,” you said, folding your hands in your lap.

He looked at you, pouting a little.

“Why volleyball?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, brow creased ever so slightly. Usually, he’d just dodge a conversation like this; not because he was particularly embarrassed by it or anything like that, but because he didn’t want to talk about himself too much. He didn’t want to be rude and dominate the conversation.

But, you were asking. And, you seemed genuinely interested.

A little bit of sincerity wouldn’t hurt, right?

“My family moved here when I was pretty young,” he said, shrugging. “And I didn’t really… know how to make friends. Before I moved, I’d been part of a volleyball team. All my friends were on it, and… I had to move away from them.”

It was a little strange, trying to pull up all these memories. And trying to condense them was harder than he’d expected. “When I first met Kenma, we just played video games. I didn’t really… know how to talk to him. But he agreed to play volleyball with me, and that made things so much easier. I had something to talk about.”

You smiled to yourself, the image of a shy little Kuroo more endearing than it should be.

“I even convinced him to go to a weekend class with me,” he smiled, looking down. “You know, I even remember when I first met Coach Nekomata.”

“Huh?” You frowned.

“The old coach who used to work here. Rumour is he’ll come out of retirement sometime soon,” he smiled.

You nodded, even though you didn’t quite understand.

We bumped into him at one of those classes,” Kuroo said. “He told me, ‘do what you love, and success will come.’ I still think about that.”

Do what you love, and success will come. Yeah, that definitely sounded like something that’d resonate with Kuroo.

“Anyway, I joined the team in middle school, and that made it a lot easier to make friends,” Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know. I love volleyball. Have for as long as I can remember. It’s fun. And… it helped me connect with people, even when… even when I couldn’t find the right words.”

He looked at you, a bit more tentative than usual. But, you were smiling, your chin propped up on one of your palms as you listened to him talk.

“Believe it or not, but I was a really shy kid.” He didn’t know why he’s still talking. And honestly, he’s a little embarrassed by it. But, you’re still listening. And for that, he’s grateful.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you grinned.

His eyes widened a little. “Huh?”

“You think so much,” you mused, looking upwards. “But, like… in the way introverts do, you know?” You blushed, looking down at your hands. “Well, I mean… I tend to overthink everything I say, right?”

“No, really?” Kuroo gasped, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Shush,” you shot him a half-glare, suppressing the urge to stick your tongue out at him like a child. “It’s just that… I see a little bit of that in you, too. Not… massively, but it’s there.”

You couldn’t quite read his expression. It wasn’t one you’d seen before. And honestly, he wouldn’t know how to describe it himself. He was caught between the relief at being seen, at being understood, and the embarrassment of being called out. People didn’t tend to pick up on that part of him – and yet, you had.

He wasn’t used to being the one getting read.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I really didn’t mean to ramble so much.”

“Oi,” you giggled, “I said it’s fine, didn’t I?”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s nice that you care so much about the game.” You were smiling at him. Nothing unusual. But the look in your eyes was so genuine, so bright that he could feel his face burning up from looking at it.

“Yeah,” he smiled, breaking eye contact with you. God, he really didn’t know what to do in conversations like these. “Anyway, should we get back to chem?”

✉

[closet introvert] 9:22 PM: so

[YOU] 9:25 PM: so

[closet introvert] 9:25 PM: i think i’m gonna try to talk to kenma after school tomorrow

✧ ✧ ✧

If there was one thing you were fairly decent at as manager, it was looking after the first and second years. Bit by bit, you’d worked up an adequate rapport with each of them, and you had most of their personalities sorted out. Most importantly, you knew what to do when they were down.

You just had to let Yaku rant – let him shout and gripe and swear, and he’d be okay. Kai liked a constructive conversation, had in soft, measured tones, and offering a solution or two. Yamamoto wanted fire and conviction, a challenge to do better, to be better. Fukunaga liked a distraction, something to take his mind off of whatever was bothering him. Kenma liked to be left alone to sort things out for himself – but you were permitted to make him a care package or two.

You’d known Kuroo long enough by now to know that he was rather reticent when it came to his own feelings. He wasn’t the sort to talk about them upfront; you had to peer at the silences and the spaces between his words to find out what he really meant. You had to look at his behaviour; he was never too straightforward. That sort of thing seemed to overwhelm him.

That presented a bit of a problem. If he didn’t want to talk about his feelings, he simply wouldn’t. He’d deflect the conversation, or downplay how he was feeling. Sometimes he gave you bits and pieces, but he rarely spilled his true thoughts and feelings. They were exceedingly difficult to draw out of him – he had to offer them up himself. And most of the time, he bounced back pretty quickly from his more melancholic moods on his own.

But not today.

Kuroo wasn’t exactly loud. At least, not in the same way Yamamoto was – or that rambunctious wing spiker from Fukurodani. It was well within Kuroo’s abilities to be obnoxious, but he wasn’t loud. But even for him, he was being uncharacteristically quiet today.

Practice had gone fine, as far as you could tell. Nothing had gone obviously wrong, and nobody had gotten injured. From your perspective, things had even gone well. Admittedly, your knowledge of volleyball didn’t run particularly deep just yet, but you were trying your best.

Kuroo was usually so bright after practice, always grinning or cackling at something despite his exhaustion. Half the time he’d point things out to you, explaining certain moves they’d practised or formations they were trying out.

But today, he’d just picked up his bag dourly, waiting at the door for you and Kenma to leave. He’d said very little on the walk to the train station when usually he’d be rambling about something or other. You and Kenma exchanged a look; he was just as concerned as you were.

And just like you, he didn’t know how to breach the conversation.

“So… how do they even work?” You asked, blinking down at Kenma’s DS screen.

You couldn’t stand the silence for much longer. And you knew that a sure-fire way to get Kenma talking was by asking him about video games – especially optimization.

“EVs are gained by defeating specific Pokemon,” Kenma murmured. “If you defeat a Pokemon with naturally high HP like Chansey, you’ll gain EVs towards your own HP. However, you can only gain 252 EV’s towards any one stat.”

You nodded, opting to let him ramble. Usually, Kuroo would’ve led the conversation between the three of you. But, you’d valiantly taken that task up yourself today – and the easiest way to help things go smoothly was to get Kenma on a roll.

“You can gain a maximum of five-hundred and twelve total, so realistically you can only optimise two stats at a time,” he continued, eyes still glued to his screen. You took a moment to glance at Kuroo. He was staring out the window of the train, his expression worryingly forlorn. Was he even listening?

“IVs are a Pokemon’s innate capabilities.” Kenma was still going. You made an affirmative noise in the back of your throat, nodding. “A Pokemon with a high attack IV will have a naturally higher attack stat than a Pokemon with a low attack IV, even at the same level.”

On the one hand, it was nice to know that Kenma was comfortable enough with you to ramble like this. It was also nice to see Kenma talking freely; a rare and precious sight.

On the other hand, it just made you more stressed about Kuroo. He hadn’t breathed a word the entire ride. He hadn’t even taken a moment to gaze fondly at Kenma while he was rambling. And he always did that when Kenma was on a roll.

You managed to ask enough questions to fill the distance to Kenma’s house. He was speaking more than usual. That much was obvious, yes – but even for a Kenma that was geeking out, this was unusual.

And with the way his gaze kept flicking to Kuroo, you knew it was because he was truly, deeply concerned.

Kuroo still made somewhat of an effort to say goodbye to Kenma, despite his mood. The usual “make sure you don’t go to sleep too late, okay?” and “make sure you drink enough water, so you don’t get a headache.”

But before Kenma walked through his front door, he looked at you. And when you looked back, he held eye contact. Then he looked very pointedly at Kuroo, who was staring up at the sky. By the time you turned to look at Kenma again, he was already scurrying through his front door.

“You ready?” Kuroo asked, now looking at you.

You nodded, half-jogging to join him on the street. Even today, even when it seemed like he just wanted to go home and sleep, he was still walking you home. Sure, your house wasn’t all that far from his, but he still went out of his way every night, just to make sure you felt comfortable.

That quiet thoughtfulness was part of who he was. You’d seen him direct it at Kenma all the time.

The same Kenma who’d just sent you a silent plea.

The Kenma, who never looked you in the eyes for longer than half a second.

The Kenma, who had just asked you to speak to his best friend.

That was all the push you needed.

“Hey, Kuroo?” You murmured.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Kuroo looked at you, one eyebrow raised. He was torn.

Should he really burden you with this? Was it right for him to worry you again?

But you’re looking at him with such genuine concern, such genuine care. And the advice you’d given him when he was worried about Kenma had been both helpful and effective. And surely, you wouldn’t have asked that question if you didn’t want a proper answer, right?

Fuck it, he thought.

“I feel like I’m not measuring up,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “My blocking hasn’t been improving. And I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to work on my read blocking but I just can’t get it down. I can’t even fix the problem because I don’t know what the problem is.”

He took a deep breath, his steps slowing to a stop. “I convinced Kenma to stay on, but I’m not a team-mate he can be proud of.”

“Kuroo…”

You looked at him, cloaked in the shadows of the street. His gaze was cast at the ground, his brow furrowed and the smallest of pouts on his lips. You wanted to hug him, but you weren’t sure if that’d help.

You didn’t quite know what to say. You knew what it was like to get caught up in your own insecurities – you were sure most people did. You knew he couldn’t see himself the way you saw him; tenacious, hard-working, passionate.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. No, that was too soft – too wishy-washy. “I know that it… seems kind of silly for me to say, but you are.”

You clenched your fists to steel yourself, taking a step closer to him. That got his attention – he looked up at you, eyes slightly wide.

“You feel like you’re not measuring up, or that you’re not improving… but I don’t see it that way.” It was true. You watched him push himself harder each and every day, improving little by little. And when he wasn’t, he’d learn from those mistakes.

“It must be easy to lose yourself on the court, but from where I’m standing… you’re improving every day.” Your eyes searched his face, looking for any indication that your words were having some kind of impact.

“And… you don’t need to be the world’s best middle blocker, you know?” You said, tilting your head at him. “You’re good, Kuroo. And you know you’ve got space to improve – that’s your strength. That makes you a team-mate worth being proud of.”

He was staring at you, eyes still wide. The dim light of the street hid the blush on his cheeks. For that, he was thankful.

“Uh…” He felt like he should say something. But he didn’t quite know what. ‘Thank you’ would’ve been the natural response, but those words just wouldn’t come.

“Sorry,” you blushed, your nerves finally catching up with you as you looked away from him. “I didn’t mean to… push your boundaries or anything like that, but… if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

Had you overstepped his boundaries? Had you made him uncomfortable? Those questions plagued you for the rest of the way home, Kuroo still quiet and reticent at your side.

You hadn’t overstepped his boundaries at all. Kuroo just couldn’t find the right words, even as you closed the distance to your house.

In all honesty, he’s touched. Touched that you cared so much. Touched that you reached out, even though he could tell how nervous you were. Touched that you were paying that much attention.

As he walked through the door of his own home, he couldn’t get the image of you looking up at him so resolutely out of his head.

He’d have to thank some deity above for the fact you were bad at chemistry, wouldn’t he?

✉

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: hey so uh

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:57 PM: i just wanted to say thanks

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: for listening to me be all emotional like that

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:58 PM: i put a lot on you but you were really nice about it

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: so yeah

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: thanks

[YOU] 10:59 PM: NO! DON’T APOLOGISE!

[japan’s okayest tutor] 10:59 PM: !?!?!?!

[YOU] 11:00 PM: honestly, i don’t mind! and i’m happy to listen :(

[YOU] 11:00 PM: i’m here if you need to talk to anyone, okay?

[japan’s okayest tutor] 11:04 PM: you too

✧ ✧ ✧

You were alone.

Your sobs were the only sound fracturing the fragile silence of the empty gym as you slumped against the wall, your knees brought up to your chest.

Why did you have to fuck up so bad? You’d managed to survive your first year with no drama, the only cause of concern being your studies. They were overwhelming enough to deal with on their own. You’d certainly felt down about your grades and whatnot before, but those ruts were a little easier to pull yourself out of. ‘They’re just grades,’ you’d try and tell yourself. ‘You can improve next time. And they don’t define you as a person.’ Even if you didn’t quite believe any of that, it was nice to have some rhetoric to at least attempt to counteract those thoughts.

But now? Now you truly felt alone. Like no-one cared about you.

You felt like you deserved it. Like anyone who cared about you was wasting their time. Like you were taking up their time and attention undeservedly.

It was all too overwhelming.

The pain choked you. Every thought, every feeling you’d been trying to fend off for so long ripped through you like an arrow.

Fuck, why couldn’t you just hold yourself together? Why did you have to be so weak?

You let go. And you cried. And cried. And cried.

The sound shattered the vacuous silence of the gym. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, letting your sobs rack through your body.

Your throat was sore.

Your eyes stung.

You were alone.

And you deserved it.

“Woah.”

You froze. You knew that voice.

“Hey.” Kuroo knelt in front of you, his hands finding their way to your forearms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He was knelt in front of you, eyebrows knitted together as his eyes roamed your face.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Shit, why was he here? Why hadn’t he just headed home?

You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. You didn’t want to worry them.

Kuroo’s arms found their way around you, coaxing you gently towards his chest. You collapsed into him, burying your face in his chest.

Fuck, that didn’t help at all. Your sobs came with more voracity, rawer and harsher than they had been.

He just held you, chin propped on your head and one hand rubbing your back. He didn’t say anything; he knew you didn’t need that right now. He knew that in moments like this, it was nice just to be held. To feel like someone’s there.

And then slowly, breath by breath, everything seemed to calm. Your sobs grew softer and softer against his chest, his gentle hums setting a new rhythm for your fractured mind. He was grounding you; each touch, each sound was an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You could tell it wasn’t the most comfortable position for him, crouched awkwardly in front of you while holding you to his chest, but he stayed.

He stayed until your breathing had levelled out, and your grip on his shirt had loosened.

“There you go,” Kuroo murmured, letting you go. He shifted to sit next to you, and you immediately missed his warmth. You found a little comfort as he looped an arm around your shoulder.

You took a long, shaky breath. You weren’t sure how long you’d keep it together for, but you were glad for the reprieve.

“What are you doing here?” You sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. He shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have made him worry about you.

“You didn’t show up for our little study session,” he said, eyebrows knitted together. “I tried texting you, but you didn’t respond. And I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Shit. You’d forgotten to tell him you’d ‘headed home early.’

“I was worried about you,” he murmured, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You swallowed roughly, the guilt bubbling up in your chest.

“I’m sorry–”

“No.” Kuroo shook his head. “Don’t apologize. If you need to get it out, you need to get it out.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. Your knuckles blanched pale as you clenched the fabric of your skirt.

“And,” he swallowed, “if you need to talk to someone… I’m here.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt everything rush back. The fight. The loneliness. The insomnia.

Kuroo didn’t need to hear this. And you didn’t want to burden him with this.

But God, you needed to talk to someone.

“I- I had an argument with Hana,” you sniffed, fingers playing with the hem of your jacket.

You could barely remember how it started. Something stupid, probably. Something immature. But it had blown way out of proportion, and she wasn’t speaking to you anymore. You’d been spending your lunchtimes alone, behind the gym or in an empty classroom. You didn’t have the strength to face the rest of your friends, nor did you know what she’d been telling them.

It had struck at the worst possible time, too. The usual anxieties about grades and the future had been compounding recently. You’d been a bit more down than usual, and this whole Hana debacle had exacerbated that. You were usually able to manage feelings like this, finding ways to keep your head above water.

But not this time.

“I just,” you swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “I just feel like something’s missing. And, and I’m… there’s… there’s this gap in my heart, and I don’t know how to stop feeling so empty.”

You took a deep breath, feeling it tremble through your body. “But… but I also just feel so numb.”

And all of it, even the numbness, was overwhelming. No matter how desperately you tried to distract yourself, you couldn’t. Nothing worked. You’d lost too many nights sitting at the bottom of your shower, letting the water run down your back as your mind ran in the same repeating circles.

You were exhausted.

“And part of me,” you swallowed, your throat rough and dry as your emotions tried to hammer themselves into something coherent. “Part of me feels like… like it’s wrong to feel like this.”

God, that felt stupid. Stupid, but true. On top of everything, you felt defunct.

And frankly, you couldn’t say why. Was it shame? Guilt? Something else?

“Hey.” Kuroo’s voice was low, almost soft as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna feel what you’re gonna feel,” he murmured, “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that, okay?”

He felt you tremble as you tried to take a deep breath.

He knew that your pain wasn’t a one-to-one reflection of his own. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to understand exactly what you were going through.

But he knew what it was like to be a small child, so afraid, so alone, without an understanding of what was really going on around him.

He knew what it was like to feel as if something was missing, like there was a constant gap in your heart. He’d felt that way when his parents had split up. He’d only been a kid, too young to properly comprehend why that had been happening.

All he had known was that his family had crumbled to pieces around him. And then his mother was gone, half a world away with little more than a kiss on his forehead as a goodbye. He hadn’t been ready for it. He had felt like he might never be.

That feeling of separation had followed him, even into his teen years. It was quieter now, a half-whisper on the bad days. Usually, he could ignore it, setting his mind to more productive concerns. But, it never quite disappeared.

Kuroo knew what it was like to be lonely.

And he hated seeing you go through the exact same thing.

Lonely. Afraid. Probably hoping that someone, somewhere, would acknowledge your pain.

That was the worst part. Wanting your suffering to be known. Wanting someone to look at all of it, to see it for what it was. But no matter how palpable that desire was, how desperately you wanted it, it was too terrifying. To speak up was to be a burden. To speak up was to expose yourself to pity; and that was always the last thing you needed.

Pity’s useless. All you were asking for, all you really wanted was understanding. Acknowledgment. To have someone see.

He knew exactly what that was like.

“You, uh…” The sentiment caught in his throat, somehow both persistent and reticent.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

They were the very words he’d wished someone had said to him all those years ago. The words he’d wanted someone to offer him, a child who didn’t know how to reach out. To cry out for help.

And in that moment, with his arms around the manager who had looked after him and his boys so well, Kuroo felt that call.

✉

[passable at best] 8:30 PM: hey

[passable at best] 8:30 PM: how are you feeling?

[YOU] 8:45 PM: alright

[YOU] 8:45 PM: i ate dinner and i’ve just been watching youtube

[YOU] 8:46 PM: and i’ve been drinking a lot of water

[passable at best] 8:46 PM: i’m glad to hear that

[passable at best] 8:46 PM: make sure you get an early night, yeah?

[YOU] 8:47 PM: i’ll try

[passable at best] 8:47 PM: and if you need anything, please text me

✧ ✧ ✧

"Come to the temple with me."

The surprise was evident on your face. You’re glad he couldn’t see you. "What… just us?"

"Yeah." There's a pause. An almost painful one. "I couldn't get Kenma to leave the house, so…"

You pretended you weren’t disappointed. If anyone could see you, they wouldn't be convinced.

"Oh, well, uh…" Your fists curled into your nightgown. "Sure."

"Great!" You could hear the smile in his voice. It's the one you like best; full of sunlight, pure and whole. The one that reached his eyes. "I'll, uh… see you at eight?"

Usually, if someone had called you at seven-thirty in the morning, you would've simply ignored them. But when you’d seen that it was him, you’d answered immediately. The lack of hesitation was almost frightening.

There was no reason that your fondness for a certain Kuroo Tetsurou should scare you. You just knew that you adored the guy. In less than a year, he’d become one of your favourite people. And, he’d been such a solid support for you. Of course you’d go to the temple with him.

But as you stood at the temple steps, swallowed up by a coat and two jumpers, you wondered if anyone was worth being this cold for.

“Sorry I’m late.”

You glared up at him, nose embarrassingly red.

“What?” He groaned, hands dug deep in his pockets.

“It’s cold.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“Hey,” he grinned, reaching up and ruffling your hair with a gloved hand. “You could’ve said no.”

You huffed. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Well, I’m touched,” he chuckled, looking up at the sky. “It’s a nice morning, though.” He looked back down at you with a grin. He was far too peppy for this hour of the morning. “You ready?”

The walk up the steps was almost laborious, given just how cold it was. Your breath misted in front of you as you told each other about your first dreams of the year; he’s still regaling a tale about Kenma turning into a dragon with five heads and chasing him through the streets of Tokyo by the time you reach the fortunes.

You tried to shake off the superstitious jitters as you carefully chose one of the knots on the string. Kuroo showed much less care.

As you read the fortune written out on your strip, you let out a surreptitious sigh of relief. You looked at Kuroo, tilting your head.

“What’d you get?” You sniffled. You hoped you wouldn’t get a cold from this.

“Bad luck,” he said, turning the strip towards you.

You snorted. “Oh, ow.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.” His expression said otherwise; it was that half-grimace he had whenever he didn’t want to admit he was wrong. Or that Bokuto had done something cool.

“Really?” You grinned, tilting your head at him. “You’re not bothered by it at all?”

“Alright, what did you get then?” He peered down at you, puffing out his chest.

“A little luck.” You held your strip towards him, and he scowled.

“Bad luck’s more exciting,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be mad about it,” you smiled, nudging him with your elbow. “God just likes me more.”

“Oi,” he huffed, ruffling your hair with a cold hand.

“Hey!” You wacked his hand away, but he just cackled.

“Anyway, you’ve forgotten the most important part of a temple visit,” he yawned, looking back at the fortunes lined up on the strings.

“Hm?” You frowned.

"You gotta make a promise," he sniffled, his fortune scrunched up in his hand.

You pouted, your hands dug deep in your pockets. A promise, huh? Did he mean a wish? You weren’t about to argue the point. He’d win it, anyway.

“You go first,” you mumbled, a little embarrassed by the fact that nothing was coming to mind.

He paused, staring at you for a moment. You squinted back, perhaps half as a challenge.

"Hm," Kuroo puffed his cheeks out, looking up at the sky for a moment. "I promise… to always be there for you. No matter what."

You blushed. What sort of promise was that? And why did it make you feel like… this?

Thwump!

You were only half aware of it as you punched him in the stomach.

“What was that for?” He wheezed, hands clamped on his stomach as he stumbled back a few steps.

“You can’t say things like that!” You whined, feeling the colour in your cheeks growing deeper.

“Why not?” There was something a little too genuine in his frown.

“Because I was going to say something really lame!” It was only eight-thirty in the morning, and Kuroo had already worked his way under your skin. And you weren’t entirely sure he’d meant to. “If I knew you were gonna say something like that, I’d’ve said it back.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You still can, you know.”

“Oh.” Yeah. You could.

That was all he needed. In an instant, that familiar grin was once again adorning his face, and he was towering over you. A little closer than maybe was appropriate.

“Is that… a blush I see?” Oh, he looked far too pleased with himself. You had half a mind to punch him again.

“Shut up,” you huffed.

“Aw, have I made you all embarrassed?” He grinned, ruffling your hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words spoiled by his fake pout.

“If you don’t shut up, I won’t say it,” you threatened, glaring at him as resolutely as you could. The weird twang in your chest made it more difficult than it usually was.

He shut his mouth immediately, eyes a little bigger and much more expectant than usual.

“Kuroo Tetsurou–”

“Are you about to propose?”

“You know what? Nevermind–”

“No, no, no! I’m sorry!” His shoulders were slouched towards you, head tilted to the side and a bright smile on his face. “I’ll shut up.”

You took a deep breath. It certainly felt a bit like you were trying to propose to him. You shuffled that thought out of your mind as quickly as you could. Once again, Kuroo had put you in a situation you hadn’t quite anticipated.

“No matter what comes, and no matter how irritating you are–”

“Hey!”

“–I promise that I’ll be there to support you,” you managed to say, cheeks flaring and fists clenched. “I… really care about you.”

You couldn’t bear the look he was giving you. It was the look you’d give something you positively adored – something you believed would bring nothing but light to your life. It was a look so full of affection that you felt like you might shatter beneath it.

He reached out and wrapped you in his arms, pulling you gently into his chest. You snuck your arms under his jacket, circling them around his waist. You’d done it mostly on instinct, but you weren’t upset about it. It’s warm, and it’s nice, and you didn’t want to question it.

There’s too much to worry about – studies, volleyball, the fact that it’s really not all that long until you’re third years. That took precedence. Whatever’s going on here – whatever this was – couldn’t take priority.

All you knew for certain was that you loved Kuroo Tetsurou. In what way didn’t matter. And this in-between, this unnamed space was comfortable. And, as far as you could tell, it belonged to both of you. If he didn’t want to say anything about it, then neither did you.

✉

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: hey hey

[YOU] 5:21 PM: hey hey hey!

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: no don’t do that

[i can be your angle] 5:21 PM: anyway, i just wanted to make sure you’re practicing appropriate after-cold care

[YOU] 5:21 PM: why do you always have to phrase things Like That

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: no idea what you’re talking about

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: anyway, drink a tea or two, stick a heat pack (or seven) in the microwave, and rug up

[i can be your angle] 5:22 PM: can’t have you going and catching a cold

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuuwritersnet #once again what are tags #i didn't want to cut this up but it got Too Long i'm so sorry #n e way hope you like it??#the in between

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krappykawa · 4 years

Text

ಌ i mildly like you more than like (p.5)

— in which an incessant fan girl, a kiss, and a little bit of denial makes oikawa tooru realize he might mildly like you more than like

description. you’ve been in love with oikawa tooru for longer than you can remember. having known him for the better part of nearly 11 years, you’ve come to accept that you’ll never be more than a best friend to him. but with the help of a few irritatingly persistent fangirls and a kiss that was only meant to drive them away, a tale of unrequited love might just prove to be something more.

warnings. language

word count. 4.6k

oikawa tooru x f!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, some angst

parts. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

author’s note. second to last part 😼😼 idk if you could call this angst but whatever it is will end next chap bc next chap will probably be teeth-rotting 😄

previously ...

“ You can feel Hanamaki stand straighter and you’re sure that he has the stupidest triumphant grin on his face. “No. Not until you stop crying over captain pretty face.”

“Y/N-chan’s crying over who now?”

You feel Makki freeze in the middle of his marching. Awkwardly, you turn to see Oikawa’s figure at the door from your position thrown over Hanamaki’s shoulder. You forgot that he was the only one that doesn’t knock.

Something in Oikawa’s expression is odd.

“Makki, fix this or I cut off your dick,” you whisper into his ear. He gulps.

“Oh, hey Shittykawa. We’re just helping Y/N with her captain pretty face problems,” Hanamaki says. You already don’t like the way that this is heading.

“Who … exactly is .. captain pretty face?” Oikawa’s eyes are on you. The irony of the nickname is not lost on you. You can only hope that the words that come out of Hanamaki’s mouth next are not the words you’re dreading.

“Don’t worry. You’re not captain pretty face. Kaoru is!” The world does not seem to be on your side.

Oikawa’s smile drops and suddenly you have the urge to cut Makki’s dick off anyways, because he just made this a lot, lot worse. “

“Ah, so I’ve been replaced by another captain pretty face? Y/N-chan I’m wounded!” Oikawa closes the door behind him as he laughs, but the sound is hollowed and not at all what a genuine laugh of his sounds like. You shoot a look to Iwaizumi, but find that he’s scrutinizing Oikawa in the same way that you were just moments ago.

With a light punch to his back from you, Makki slowly sets you back down onto your feet. You lift a hand to tidy your hair.

“Makki’s lying. He’s just being a pain in the ass,” you reply. In saying that, you’re well aware of the fact that you’re potentially diving into dangerous territory. It would be too easy for Oikawa to decide that he wants to know more and possibly ask you the questions that you’re so dreading, but there’s something wrong about having him believe that you actually like Kaoru that you find more dreadful than potentially having to tell him about your year-long love for him.

Oikawa sets his bag down next to a bin full of his things that he’d left over the years before turning back to look at you. The expression he meets you with is almost off-putting. The corners of his mouth are flicked upwards in what might be disapproval, but his eyes reflect something else - something akin to regret. “Is he really? I mean you have been spending quite a bit of time with Kaoru-kun as of late, haven’t you?”

His voice sounds like it’s dripping with lies, though you can’t quite understand why that’s so because he technically wasn’t lying. You decide that maybe you've just gotten so used to the realness of Oikawa that you forget that his natural tongue is fluent in lying. The only people that have ever been able to see right through his tone are all standing in this room.

Inevitably, you find your eyes flicking to Makki’s. Oikawa notices. You see the facade drop the mildest bit.

“I don’t. You know that you would be the first to know if I did,” you say. It’s true. Growing up, he’s always been the first to know about your crushes, no matter how small. He’s known about all crushes, except for one. Him himself.

Something changes in his expression then. It’s a miniscule change - the slight upward tip to his lips that makes the almost imperceptible indent of a dimple peak out - but you’re so attuned to him that you know that means that his smile is genuine. “I’ll hold you to that Y/N-chan. Don’t you go around replacing me.”

The air in the room seems to sigh in relief. You turn your eyes away from him when you feel yourself start to smile. You don’t want to give Makki, Mattsun, or Iwaizumi anything to make fun of you for later on.

“Cut the dramatics in front of them. It’s like you’re asking to get made fun of,” you say instead.

Oikawa just shrugs. “According to Iwa-chan, just having this face is already asking to get made fun of, so there’s really no big difference.”

Iwaizumi snorts from his position on the couch. “I said that your face when you look dumb is asking to get made fun of, but it’s good that you’re self aware.”

Oikawa sticks a tongue out at him.

“As mature as always captain,” Mattsun says.

Oikawa flicks his gaze to Matsukawa before he says, “Hm, that reminds me. Y/N-chan please accompany me to the kitchen.” He’s already walking to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

You exchange looks with Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki. Hanamaki has the decency to look apologetic. You make hand motions at him that elicits a chuckle from Matsukawa.

When you enter the kitchen, Oikawa has a cup of ice and a handkerchief sitting on the counter. He’s carefully dropping a few ice cubes into the middle of the handkerchief.

“What’s that for?”

He’s quiet as he finishes and wraps the handkerchief around the ice. “Close your eyes,” he says softly as he walks towards you and presses the cold ice against your eyes. “You were crying before I got here.”

You stay quiet. Of course he noticed.

“What happened? Are you sure Makki was lying? You can tell me you know, if something happened with Kaoru.”

You let out a breath and allow the cold of the ice against your eyes ease you into a lie. “I wasn’t crying over Kaoru. They just found out that he walked me home today and decided to roll with it. I’m really just exhausted from classes.”

The hand that Oikawa was using to dab at your eyes suddenly stops. “Kaoru … walked you home? From the bakery?”

Slowly, you let your eyes flutter open, your puffing eyes already missing the cold of the ice against your eyelids. Oikawa’s eyes are trained on you, and you get that odd feeling that he’s searching you for answers. You’ve found that he’s been doing that a lot as of late - this whole reading instinct he uses for people he’s just met. You still aren’t used to him using it on you.

You flick your eyes away from his and break the eye contact. Instead, you look at his hand and reach up to take the ice pack from him. He hands it to you gently and takes a step back. You watch him as he clears his throat and moves to disappear behind the fridge door.

“Yeah, he did walk me home,” you pause, debating with yourself about telling him. “I think he came to ask me on a date, actually.”

You think you imagine Oikawa’s body stopping mid-movement. “Did you say yes?”

“No. He asked if I was free today. I told him that I already made plans with you four.”

“Oh,” Oikawa says as he pulls out a cup of mint chocolate chip.

“Yeah.”

As he makes himself busy with finding a spoon, you lean against the counter and continue to press the ice against your eyes. Oikawa sneaks a glance at you. “If he asked again, and you didn’t have plans. Would you say yes?”

His voice is unnaturally quiet. You aren’t sure what to do with that knowledge.

“Probably not. I broke up with him for a reason.”

A noise of agreement comes from Oikawa. “You said that you two didn’t click.”

“We don’t.”

A comfortable silence engulfs you two as Oikawa leans against the counter next to you. You try not to watch him as he takes a bite of ice cream and unintentionally smiles, his eyes looking serene for the first time in a while. Instead, you make yourself busy with alternating the ice pack between your eyes, though now you were mostly just doing it so that you had something to do other than get the urge to stare at him.

After a moment, Oikawa speaks again. “I still don’t believe for one second that you were only crying because of school.”

You let the hand holding the ice pack finally fall to your side. “Well you better believe it then because it’s the truth.”

“Maybe. But I get the feeling that it’s a half truth.”

“Half truths aren’t all bad.”

“So I’m right.”

You make yourself busy with throwing the ice into the sink as you scramble your head for a decent lie. “Bad day at the bakery. I fucked up the honey buns.”

Oikawa hums. “So now it’s a two-thirds truth.”

The other third is that I’m in love with your dumbass and you’ll never know.

“That’s it. Promise.”

Oikawa switches tactics. “Y/N-channn. You’re lying to me.”

“Tooruuuu. I’m not lying to you,” you say as you roll your eyes.

“Yes you are. You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“Tapping your right middle finger on your thigh.”

“I do that?” You look down and find that you were indeed tapping your finger against your thigh. You start to wonder how many other times he could detect your lies, but for the sake of your sanity, you decide not to dwell on it.

He reaches down and stops your tapping finger with his own hand. The moment lasts too long -- feels too personal. You pull your hand away and take a step back so that you’re leaning against the opposite counter.

“Whatever. I’m telling the truth.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!”

“Mhm. Lies, lies , lies,” Oikawa says playfully. “Sorry for not being here earlier. I got caught up in playing this new game Takeru bought. You should’ve called me over. I would’ve come in a heartbeat if I knew that you were having a hard time.”

You make a waving motion with your hand. “It’s fine really. I just got overwhelmed by stuff. No big deal.”

Oikawa frowns. The sight doesn’t look natural on his usually smiling face. “Stop putting yourself down like that. I don’t care how small you think your problem is. If it makes you cry, then it’s worth talking about.”

“Don’t get all team captain ‘Kawa on me. I appreciate it, I really do. But this time it really wasn’t a big deal.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I walked in and your eyes looked redder than Mattsun’s ass after I accidentally hit him with a serve.”

“How the fuck would you know that?”

“Don’t question what goes on in the locker room.”

A laugh bubbles up from your lips and you have to tip your head back so that Oikawa doesn’t make fun of the way your face contorts as you laugh. When your laughter finally dies down, you look back to see that Oikawa’s staring at you again. He’s looking at you like you’re an opponent he can’t quite get a read on.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” he pauses. “Do you think I should invite Hishoko next time? You know … to be a .. good boyfriend.”

Suddenly it hits you again. It hits you that you can’t just live in this perfect little bubble where you and Oikawa are making jokes at each other in your kitchen forever. It hits you that this Oikawa - the Oikawa that’s so very real and rough around the edges but makes you laugh louder than anyone - isn’t yours. It hits you that while he might look at you one way, he might look at Hishoko in a completely different way that you have never been privy to.

It rips you back to reality, and suddenly you’re aware of the voices in the living room and how Makki and Iwa seem to be fighting over whatever movie’s better.

“Oh yeah. I don’t mind.” You smile up at him with the most convincing smile you can. Suddenly, the thought of spending one more minute in this kitchen with him and getting lost in this perfect little bubble makes you want to cry all over again. “We should head back. I think hell’s going down over there,” you say lightly.

Before he can even get a word out, you’re already making a beeline for the living room. You try to slow your steps to a normal pace when you start towards where Iwaizumi is now sitting on the floor. You make sure to make him move over so that you can sit on the side where the couch ends so that Oikawa can’t sit next to you.

“Fucking finally. Don’t ever leave me in a room with Makki and Iwaizumi ever again,” Matsukawa says. You laugh a little when you notice that he’s saying that while being sprawled across Makki’s lap.

“It’s not my fault that Hanamaki can’t appreciate a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Hate to break it to you Iwa, but Godzilla vs. The Cosmic Monster isn’t anyone’s favorite movie.”

Oikawa’s voice joins in as you hear steps from the kitchen. “Makki, that movie’s a fucking masterpiece. Please shut your mouth.”

You try not to listen to the way Oikawa’s steady steps back into the living room come to a halt when he notices your choice of seat.

He looks up at the stars twinkling against the blackened blue of the contrasting night sky with a heavy sigh. Oikawa always felt a sense of stability and tranquility when looking up at the sky, as if it was a reminder that his life was just a minuscule dot in the cloth of the universe. That maybe, his worries were something so small that he needn’t have to worry about them.

He remembers the way that the night sky was his company when his father had left so early on in his life, or when his sister had come home crying because she had a human growing inside of her and the man she was supposed to marry left her in the same fashion that their own father had, or when he thought that maybe his love for volleyball would have to be ripped from him after his injury in his first year.

He hopes to look up at the dark indigo of the sky and feel that same tranquility. For just a moment. It does.

But even now, as his chest rises softly, he can still feel the unease weighing on him.

The night went by unnaturally fast for a night with you, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa. After a few fights between the guys, all five of you finally sat down and got around to watching the movie (which, to Oikawa’s distaste, was some old film from the 60s that Matsukawa had picked because he was drawn to the odd looking cover).

The movie came and went with more than a few complaints from him. It was the type of movie that he especially hated - the kind with a plot that made absolutely zero sense and had an ending that made Oikawa want to rewind the last two hours because he just couldn’t believe he spent 2 hours of his life trying to figure out what the hell was going on just for it to not have a satisfactory ending.

He wouldn’t put the bad movie down as the reason for his irritable mood, but if anyone asked, it would be the answer that they’d get.

Nobody else seemed to be particularly fond of the horrendous movie either (except for Matsukawa, who insisted that they just simply did not have to brain to appreciate the masterpiece. Makki just insisted that the movie was a pile of shit, which Oikawa found himself agreeing with).

Soon after, the five of you found yourselves cramped into your tiny kitchen, which really should never happen again, if the glass that broke after getting knocked over was any indication. It only really happened because Matsukawa swore that he could create the best soup they’d ever put anywhere near their mouths, but that plan went up in flames. Literally.

The incident of Makki almost setting off the fire alarm seemed to sober everyone up, as if whatever energy had previous possessed the five of you had suddenly run out. Oikawa didn’t mind too much, considering the rest of the night was spent watching reruns of one of your favorite shows that he was particularly fond of.

What he did mind however, was the way that you seemed to decide to avoid him for the entire night. He was sure that Iwa, Mattsun, and Makki must’ve noticed, but by some odd agreement, nobody dared speak a word about it.

He tried not to think about anything whenever he felt his eyes drift down to where you were huddled against Iwaizumi’s side, a position that had been his and yours for as long as he could remember. He tried not to think about it then because he was sure that if he did, he’d end up saying something he didn’t mean to say.

He knew that he’d have to think about this in the silence of his own thoughts where there’s nothing but his own annoying emotions chiming in.

So now he’s here, sitting on a bench in your backyard and staring up at the sky like it’ll give him the answer to whatever question he wanted answered.

He hadn’t meant to bring up Hishoko, he really hadn’t. He just remembered the way his stomach fluttered once more at the sound of your laugh and the way it made him panic, because for the love of everything he wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa tears his gaze from the sky and turns to meet Iwaizumi’s head as he slips through the door. He must not have heard the door open. “Hey Iwa-chan. I couldn’t sleep.”

Iwaizumi lets out a low chuckle as he walks to where Oikawa’s seated in the middle of your rock garden. He takes a seat next to Oikawa on the bench. “Leave it to you to be the only one that stays up when everyone else crashed two hours ago.”

“Mhm. Why are you awake? Last I checked you were as passed out as the rest of them,” Oikawa says with his gaze still flickering over the stars.

Iwaizumi shrugs. “Had to use the bathroom and then realized that you weren’t anywhere to be found.”

Oikawa seizes the moment to don his cheeky smile, turning his head from the stars and to Iwaizumi’s sleep-ridden face. “Awe you worried about me Iwa-chan?”

The reaction he gets from Iwaizumi is an eyeroll, but Oikawa doesn’t expect any less. “After you spent the night looking like you were one second away from an existential crisis? Yeah I did.”

Oikawa doesn’t respond to that. He wonders if you noticed too.

“Spit it out.”

He ponders with himself for a moment, wondering if it’s a good idea to finally just talk about it with someone. He decides that if there’s anyone he’d talk about this with, he’s glad it’s with Iwaizumi. “It’s about Y/N and Hishoko.”

Iwa doesn’t miss a beat, as if he was expecting that. “Mm. What about them?”

“I think I made a mistake.”

“You make a lot of those, ‘Kawa.”

“No, I mean, I shouldn’t have accepted Hishoko’s confession when the only reason I did it was because I didn’t know how I was feeling. It’s not fair to her that the only reason I’m with her is because I’m too cowardly to decide how I felt after I ...” Oikawa trails off, unsure if you’d be okay with Iwaizumi knowing.

It seems he doesn’t have to worry because Iwaizumi finishes his sentence for him. “Kissed Y/N?”

Oikawa’s head turns to Iwaizumi. “You know about that?”

“She told me, yeah.”

“Why … why would she tell you that?”

“You’re not fucking dense, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says with a side glance at his best friend. “I think you know the answer to that.”

For a moment Oikawa considers the possibility that you did feel the same way (a fantasy he’s entertained more times than he’s willing to admit), but he knows that he has to get this out now, has to figure it out and solidify what he feels for you now, because he won’t be able to stand it if he has to keep tiptoeing around you because he’s a fool that can’t admit his own feelings to himself.

The question that comes out of his mouth next isn’t exactly what he meant to ask, but now that it’s out in the open, Oikawa guesses that maybe that’s the question that’s been holding him back this whole time. “What if I mess up?”

“Mess up how?”

He sighs. “I don’t exactly have a great track record when it comes to relationships.” So far, out of the six relationships he’s had, only two of them will even look at him without disdain, and one of those is his current girlfriend.

“No shit,” Iwaizumi snorts.

Oikawa fakes a pout before crossing his arms. “You could’ve at least pretended to disagree.”

“When you’re out here moping because of it? No I won’t.”

A silence falls over the two of them. Oikawa can feel his own breathing synced up with Iwaizumi and finds that it clears his head a little bit. He gets the feeling that Iwaizumi isn’t going to talk again until he does.

“Hishoko’s great, really she is,” Oikawa starts again. “But I just-“ He lets out a frustrated sigh, slumping further down against the bench.

Iwaizumi hums. “Don’t like her like that? Because there’s someone else?”

Oikawa blinks, still slumped down like a limp noodle. “When you put it that way it sounds so uncomplicated.”

“Because it is.”

Oikawa ponders that. Maybe it is that simple, but for how confident he is about everything else in life, he’s never had a firm grip on romance or how to deal with it. He always seemed to do the exact opposite of what anyone with a good instinct would do.

He’s read enough shoujo manga with you to know that love isn’t as easy as “kiss and live happily ever after”, especially if that love is with your best friend. A shoujo manga he especially remembered liking in first year was of a story of best friends that fell in love, but as fate had it, they fell in love with the right person at the wrong time.

That manga really shouldn’t be something he compares his own love life to, but he can’t help but worry, especially given his past relationships. Oikawa doesn’t usually feel such anxiety about jumping into relationships (mainly because the relationships he did get into were never relationships he really took as seriously as he should), but now he feels that shadow of insecurity come lurking back like a piece of gum stuck to his shoe. It seems he can never escape his own fear of never being enough.

“But Y/N’s different,” he finally says after a hefty silence. “Most of my exes hate me now because of how badly I keep messing up. I don’t know what I’ll do if I mess up with her.”

Iwaizumi crosses his arms tighter. “Y/N’s been through tons of your bullshit. She won’t give up on you that easily, as long as you don’t colossally fuck up.”

Oikawa nods, but there’s already another question bugging him. “How can I be sure that I love her like that? I mean, I remember thinking that I loved Yua, but now that I look back, I wonder if that was only because she was the only relationship I had that kept me around for so long.”

He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility that he might mess up that badly - that he’ll take back his feelings for you within a few days like he’s been known for in past relationships. Oikawa thinks that that would most definitely count as a colossal fuck up.

“I’m not trying to label your feelings or anything, but I think you’ve been in love with her for a long time now,” Iwaizumi says in the softest voice Oikawa’s ever heard it be in the years he’d known him. “I just think you’re only starting to realize it because well, you said you kissed right?”

“We did.”

“Then yeah, that probably woke your brain up a little.”

“She’s not just a case of raging hormones,” Oikawa replies.

“I know she’s not,” Iwaizumi says mildly. “I’m just saying that sometimes you don’t realize that you feel like that for someone until something happens that forces you to think about it. For you, it was probably that kiss.”

Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi is probably remembering his own experience with Hanamaki. The look of heartbreak on his best friend’s face when they found Matsukawa and Hanamaki with their lips locked against the side of the school building was not one he would easily forget. He wonders if Iwaizumi knew the extent of his feelings before that moment or if he went through something similar to what Oikawa’s going through.

The remembrance of Iwaizumi’s past feelings also makes Oikawa wonder if he’s felt like this toward you even before all this, just like he knew of Iwaizumi’s feelings for Hanamaki before Iwaizumi himself did.

“I think I would’ve noticed if I felt things towards her before all this. Maybe not a lot, but I would’ve noticed to some extent.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “No you wouldn’t. You’ve got the mind of a genius when it comes to volleyball, but when it comes to any aspect of your life that isn’t volleyball, then your brain is like a pile of horseshit.”

“Iwa-chan, so mean!”

“I’m right and you know it.”

“No you aren’t,” Oikawa says, though he’s not so sure he believes himself.

“You’ve centered your whole life on volleyball ‘Kawa. You’ve neglected shit about yourself because of volleyball. I’ve seen it, Y/N’s seen it. Volleyball is the center of your mind and everything kinda revolves around it like a solar system. But once you get used to something being a small little planet in that tiny brain of yours, you just accept it as a natural part of your thinking because the big old volleyball is still vying for your attention.”

“Please, Iwa-chan. It’s two in the morning. Please speak in a language I can understand.”

“You loved her when we were kids, right?” Iwaizumi pauses and Oikawa just nods. “Then your love and feelings for her were put into this nice bubble labeled ‘positive feelings’ and you never realized when you might’ve started looking at her differently because being in love with her is still a positive feeling.”

“And I’ve been so focused on volleyball and practice that I didn’t even notice?”

Iwaizumi raises a brow at Oikawa. “Are you trying to say that you haven’t neglected parts of your life before for volleyball?”

“Okay, good point.”

Iwaizumi’s explanation does make sense to him, now that Oikawa has something to latch his thought process on. He always liked having you around, and you had become one of the anchors that kept him from breaking over the years. He’s always known that being around you gave him ounces of joy, but he never really looked further into it because well .. Iwaizumi was right.

It was in the way where he unknowingly looked for your figure in the stands when he won the Best Setter award back in junior high. He hadn’t really noticed because he thought he’d always done that.

It was in the way that he would sometimes head to your place after a particularly grueling practice just to make rice cakes for the both of you because he was so exhausted that the only thing he wanted to do is see your smile as you compliment his cooking. He hadn’t really noticed that he got giddy at that prospect because he felt as if he’d always felt like that.

It was in the way that he would sometimes lay his head on your shoulder and only focus on your breathing because it calmed him down in ways that nothing else can. He hadn’t really noticed that he was doing so because he’s always done that.

You had become a positive constant in his life and loving you one way or another became the default. He just hadn’t been paying close enough attention to when it was that the hugs, the support, the little glances, and the nights spent falling asleep on each other might have become something more than the childish blind love he held for you as children. And then that kiss came along and hit him like a volleyball to the face.

With that, he finally lets himself admit it to himself, with no qualms or worries about how he might find a way to mess up. He lets himself admit that he might be a tiny bit in love with you.

It almost hits him like a truck then because huh, he’s in love with you. And yet, he doesn’t feel so different, he just feels lighter.

“Huh.”

“You finally figured it out then?”

Oikawa smiles to himself. “Yeah, I think I did.”

A smile finds its way onto Iwaizumi’s lips. “Happy to see it, asshole. Just don’t keep her waiting on you for another three years.”

“I won’t. I don’t plan on wasting any more time now that I finally figured it out.”

“How do you plan on telling her then?”

“That I love her?”

“You love her?” A voice that’s not Iwaizumi’s nearly jolts him from his seat. He’d know that voice anywhere.

He turns to find you standing not far from where he and Iwaizumi are seated and feels the color drain from his face.

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fumingspice · 3 years

Text

All The Things She Said

Requests are open!

Part | 1 2 3

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Summary: almost caught by Lana’s husband. Dinner with mom. Brief mentions of having a bad relationship with food. Slightly irritating ending but its okay because I hate me too

There had been many close encounters. Too many to be overly confident in the situation. Her husband coming home too early during particular heated make-out sessions. Teachers passing by in cars while you walked through towns outside of your own during dates.

Weeks flew by and the rollercoaster of a relationship you had with your teacher went up and down like the waves of the ocean that you could see from your bedroom window.

The worst had come on a sunny Friday. You had taken a hard tumble on your run outside of Lana's help and you stumbled your way to her front door for some help. She gasped when she saw you.

She offered her arm to do as you limped into a kitchen and helped you to sit on her counter.

"Gosh, Y/N. This isn't a good look," she muttered, grabbing the first aid kit from one of the drawers.

You chuckled through your pain. "You're just annoyed that you can't get me on my knees." Lana raised her eyebrow and tilted your chin down to see your eyes.

"I could, still."

You shook your head. You knew Lana would never touch you like that before you left high school, the promise she had kept this far. Lana dabbed your cut-up knees and shins with cotton balls dipped in alcohol. Blood had dripped down your legs and gathered and your socks. The brunette padded your knees and taped them with some medical tape she had found. They were pretty nasty gnashes after all.

Lana wiped blood from a smaller cut on your chin and dried it. It wasn't bleeding anymore. Your arms and palms were a different story.

You had unconsciously clenched your hands while you walked through Lana's house and upon opening them realised that blood had pooled.

"Oh, baby-" Lana started, stopping herself when she realised what had come out of her mouth. She went straight to cleaning your arms and applying bandages to your other injuries.

"Did you just call me 'baby'?"

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't thinking straight."

You cocked your head at her. "I didn't think there was ever a straight thought in your head, baby."

Lana stared at you with a shocked expression.

"Too much?" You asked. You answer was a kiss as Lana pulled your legs around her waist and carried you over to her couch.

Careful not to disturb any of your injuries, Lana knelt between your legs and her tongue beckoned entrance to your mouth.

Your hands found at each other’s closed as you shift your bodies to straddle her.

Lana stripped off your running top and threw in onto the couch while you worked at the buttons on her blouse, only to be interrupted by the sound of the turning lock at the front door.

You hissed a profanity as you got your shirt back on as quickly as you could and fetched a glass of water to seem less suspicious whilst Lana tidied herself up.

“Afternoon, Lana,” her husband muttered as he strod towards her, taking her by the waist and kissing her. It almost felt as though he knew to prove something to you. Like he wanted to show you that on paper Lana was his. You bit your tongue and turned away, a pang of annoyance coursed through you as you saw Lana's lips on another, even if you knew she didn't want it. Even if you knew that he was completely cold towards her.

Oliver glared at you. "Why are you over here this time, hm?" he asked. "Isn't it a little inappropriate to be in your teacher's house so often?"

You rolled your eyes hard to keep the absolute diva inside you at bay. You turned to him and gave a coy smile. "I'm here as a neighbour," you retorted. Your heart smiled at Lana's silent chuckle. "I fell outside, and Ms. Winters cleaned me up." You motioned to the pads on your knees which were almost beginning to bleed through.

Lana shook her head at you, blushing slightly at your tone. Oliver shrugged as if your answer was satisfactory enough for him.

"I also came over because my mom wanted to know if the both of you wanted to come for dinner tomorrow night," you said. Lana's eyebrow raised as if to ask when you would stop trying to grind at Oliver. You knew rightly that he left for New York in the morning.

Oliver hummed to himself. "I'm afraid I won't be able to come, but I'm sure Lana would feel more than comfortable by herself."

Lana stared at him. "What does that even mean?"

Oliver shrugged. "Well, you're very comfortable with your student and her mother as it is. You don't need me around anyways," he said, he gripped Lana's wrist hard for a moment and released again when she winced.

Oliver stalked out of the kitchen and you stayed where you were until you hear his office door close upstairs.

Lana breathed a sigh of relief and clasped her hands to her head as you approached her with open arms. Lana lent into your embrace. “That was far too close, Y/N,” she whispered, her fingers tight around your arms. “Maybe we should stop doing that for a little while.”

You pursed your lips. You had felt Lana growing more detached for a while, worried that someone would find out before you would make it known.

Lana pressed her lips against your neck softly, laying them up to your jawline. “I like you, Y/N,” she whispered softly. “I can’t let anything bad happen.”

You shook your head to get her to stop talking. “How about you just come around tomorrow? We can watch a movie before my mom comes back. A little movie date, hm?” You played with a lock of her hair and put your forehead against hers.

Saturday morning came quickly. Your mom was still at work.

8am.

Oliver would have been gone for two hours and you had another few hours before your mom came home in the late afternoon.

You were quick to change into something comfortable and grab something to eat. Your relationship with food had been rocky for a while. Somedays you found yourself comfortable with your eating; you were careful with what you consumed out of your enjoyment for en bon santé which your mother often beamed upon, simply happy that her daughter didn’t have a constant craving for junk food. Other days however, you often found yourself over-calculating the calories in your head. It was so often a game of numbers that you were determined to win. Spitting snacks into the bin without thinking.

Lana had noticed your behaviour straight away and walked you through old tips.

“Food is not your enemy, sweetheart,” she told you as she watched you throw a napkin into a bin. One of your dates, you had got boba and waffles together.

You shrugged it off, but Lana stopped you. “You don’t get out of talking about this, Y/N,” she said. You had walked through a park and sat in the roots of a massive oak tree. You were against the tree and Lana lay between your legs with her back against your stomach.

“It’s nothing, Lana,” you said. It was true, in fairness you hadn’t thought about it as much other than a way to have a few snacks without worrying about what you were eating.

Lana propped herself up on you. “Well, no matter what it is I’m here for you to talk, and I’m not going. I was a teenager once too; I remember the pressure. But-” The brunette took your face in her hand and planted you a kiss. “-for what it’s worth, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

A knock came at your side door, followed by its opening and Lana walking in through your kitchen as you had advised.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she cooed as you strode into her arms for a hug. She planted a kiss on your forehead then stood against the counter, watching you make breakfast.

Your excitement to see your soulmate had almost made you forget that you were standing with only a crop top and shorts on. Although Lana clearly didn’t mind. “What are you staring at?” You giggled with a plate of pancakes in hand, reaching in to give Lana a quick kiss on the lips.

Lana rolled here eyes at you playfully and took your outstretched hand. “Any movies you want to watch?” You asked, smiling at the gratification you got as you felt her lace her fingers through yours.

You used your hips to force your bedroom door open, letting go of Lana’s hand for a moment to walk in. You noticed she wasn’t moving.

“Y/N, I meant what I said when I don’t want to go further than kissing you before you left school,” she said quietly.

You chuckled. “You don’t know me as well as you think. I don’t have sex in my bed. I like it too much to ruin the sheets,” you replied. Lana still looked unconvinced. “I only brought you up because I want to cuddle. In my bed. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can go to the living room with a blanket. It’s up to you, baby.”

Lana thought it over for a minute before straightening up and following you to her bed. She lay down first, and you lay down on top of her with your head between her chest and shoulder, your arm and leg draped over her body slightly.

You had chosen to watch Nine-To-Five. Brilliant movie in your opinion. Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Dolly Parton. You used to watch it all the time with your mom after she left your father. It was one of those movies from the 80’s which always made you feel on top of the world after. Or maybe that was just Jane Fonda’s general influence.

You relaxed into Lana as you felt her hand lay down on your back, tracing swirling patterns in your skin that made your heartbeat at a hundred miles on hour.

You talked during the movie. Lana told you about anymore nightmares that Oliver had stirred up for her with the divorce that seemed to be going nowhere. She had even stopped wearing her necklace unless she knew that only you would see it.

Your mom came home a few hours later, after you had changed your clothes and went downstairs to look a little less inconspicuous. Your mother seemed to the think nothing of it, but for Lana it was a different story, and you could sense it in her.

“You better not be up to what I think you’re up to, Y/N,” your mom muttered when Lana excused herself to the bathroom during dinner, looking straight at you and taking a sip of her wine.

“Which would be...?”

Mom set her glass down hard. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. She’s your teacher.”

Your mother’s ability to clock almost every single little thing never failed to amaze you.

“I’m nineteen in two weeks.”

Your mom waved. “Oh yea, sure. You’re nineteen in two weeks, that changed everything,” she muttered, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Are you crazy?”

You debated answering that, given that it would’ve been a “yes.”

“The only reason that I’m not absolutely swinging arms with her, nor is she on my hit list, is because I saw the necklace,” she said.

“What about them?”

Your mom glared. “What do you mean, ‘what about them?’” She had a way of repeating what you said in a humorous tone when you said something silly. “I know that she’s your soulmate, Y/N. It still goes that you’re a student and she’s your teacher. Please, for both of your sakes end it for collage before one or the both of you get into trouble, hm?”

Your mom left to clean her dishes and Lana returned, your mom’s words still haunting you.

At the end of the night, your mom hugged Lana goodbye, telling her she was welcome over anytime. When your mom was visibly distracted you walked Lana outside.

“You know I could hear the conversation with your mom, right?” She spoke. You had been hoping to avoid having a conversation about this. “I don’t necessarily think she’s wrong.”

You broke away from Lana’s eyes and trained them on the ground, trying to compartmentalise her words.

“Listen, so far we’re just casual. Let’s put this to rest before something bad happens, and then as soon as your finished school I’m going to take you on a date to the nicest restaurant in the state,” she said.

“Casual,” is what she called it. You nodded your head and muttered goodnight. Lana, although noticing your behaviour, replied back, and left to her own house again.

Your mom stood in the hall. “I’m impressed,” she said. “I honestly didn’t think you would do it.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t.”

After that night, school was less enjoyable. You had even went as far as lodging a request to move to another class. You had barely been able to bring yourself to look at Lana from the sheer embarrassment. The request, to your dismay was denied and you had to face the added humiliation of Lana knowing that you had tried to leave the class and failed.

“You could at least talk to me about it,” she said when she asked you to stay behind. “You’ve barely glanced at me in the last two weeks.”

You shrugged again.

You felt like you had nothing to stay. Still stung from “casual.”

It was clearly bothering Lana, and you knew that her ego was the only thing that was keeping her composure. You knew it clearly didn’t help when Manny, the quarterback on the football team gave you a massive promposal in the cafeteria.

It was a gimmick. You’d been best friends with Manny since you were a child and he often flirted with you jokingly in class. Lana didn’t know of the extent of your friendship with him and you knew it stung her with jealousy to see the handsome, popular, insanely talented football player giving you all the attention.

Even Manny’s boyfriend, who lived in Arizona, teased you about the joke flirting.

You turned around, noticing Lana’s eyes fall when you looked at her.

You accepted, and boy were you in for it with Lana now.

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horansqueen · 3 years

Text

New Angel - Chapter 10

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2 ☆ chapter 3 ☆ chapter 4 ☆ chapter 5 ☆ chapter 6 ☆ chapter 7 ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.6k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

I could have ran to Louis to yell at him but instead, my eyes searched quickly for Millie through the rest of the people drinking, dancing and kissing around the apartment. She was staring at something and when I followed her gaze, I saw Louis and his new girlfriend (or at least that's what I guessed). Her lips were parted, but she didn't seem as surprised as I thought she would and quickly, I walked up to her, trying to get her attention by holding her drink near her.

"Hey, Mill, you okay?"

She blinked a few times but finally turned to me, her lips still parted, and the sadness and pain I immediately saw in her eyes made my heart sink in my chest.

"She's so... she's so fucking gorgeous."

I glanced at Louis' girlfriend for half a second before turning back to Millie who had stopped looking at me and was back to staring at Louis.

"You're prettier." I quickly replied before moving in front of her to block her view. "I'm going to tell him to get the fuck out okay, you wait here."

"No Niall!" She grabbed my arm, her fingers tightening a bit before loosening. "It's okay."

"It's not. Mill, he just broke up with you and he comes here with her knowing how you feel I mean, it's not okay at all, it's the worst thing he could have done!"

"I told him to bring her if he wanted."

Her words surprised me so much that I stopped breathing for a few seconds. "What? Why?"

Slowly. Millie licked her lips with a frown before pressing them hard together. She had always been tough and strong, or at least I used to think that. Now that I was looking at her... now that I was really looking at her and taking the time to notice the littlest things about her, I was wondering if it was not just something she wanted to make us believe, as if being weak was a bad thing. I had no idea if she wanted to prove something to Louis, to me or to herself. All I knew was that no matter why she told Louis he could bring his new girl to this party, it was still a very bad idea.

"Look, it doesn't even matter." I added, shaking my head when I realized she wouldn't answer. "He should know fucking better."

And I meant that. No matter what Millie could have told him, nothing could justify the decision Louis took because after all, he deliberately and by himself made that decision. I had heard the fight and I had seen the pain in Millie's eyes... I had heard the sadness in her voice... And if Louis wanted to pretend that he hadn't seen or heard anything, I was definitely going to be the one to call him out.

I placed my hand on Millie's shoulder and squeezed it lightly before walking quickly to Louis. When he saw me, his lips curled and I felt my heart jump in my chest. How could he smile like that?

"Oh, Niall, let me present you-"

"You fuckin' prick!"

"Excuse me?" he just asked with a frown after his smile fell.

"You heard me! You're a fucking asshole, Tomlinson!" I let out a bit louder. "How could you fucking do that to Mill?"

"She's the one who-"

"Are you stupid? Are you fucking stupid? You know her! She's just pretending to be fine and instead to take her feelings into consideration, you just bring your new girlfriend here?"

"Louis, we should leave." the brunette said in a soft tone. "I told you it was a bad idea."

I wanted to tell her it was not her fault and in any other circumstances, I would have been glad to meet her but to bring her to our apartment the day after breaking up with Millie was to ridiculous I couldn't believe Louis had done that. The only reason I could think of was that he really loved this girl and wanted to tell the world. It was hard to blame him, I totally understood this feeling, but Millie was my friend, and I was going to pick her side no matter what.

"Millie is a strong girl, you know it and so do I. She's totally fine!" Louis argued, taking a step closer to me. "What do you know anyway? She was barely your friend a few weeks ago so fuck off!"

I scoffed and shook my head, sending him a disgusted look. "If you honestly believe that then maybe you don't know Millie as much as you think you do."

I turned around to leave, my heart thumping in my chest but I stopped when he talked again.

"Oh but you do? You know her more than I do now?"

I turned around and raised my eyebrows at him. "Yea... yea I do. Because I take the time to listen to her."

I walked back to Millie and Summer who were calmly chatting together and when I got closer, I noticed my best friend was smiling sadly but was still listening to what Summer was telling her. Both their gazes moved to me as soon as they noticed me and Summer smiled more, taking a step closer and tilting her chin up to look at me. I could feel her body against mine but my eyes roamed on Millie's face, trying to decipher how she felt.

"Are you alright?"

Millie sighed and shrugged before moving her hand up, showing me her empty glass. "I'll be okay with an other drink. Or ten."

She left before I could even answer and I felt Summer's hand squeeze my gently. "Will she be alright?"

I looked at where Millie disappeared and sighed, shaking my head slightly. "I hope so."

"Look, Niall, I have something to tell you."

It took a few seconds before her words made sense to me and I forced myself to stop staring at the kitchen and turn to Summer who was raising her eyebrows at me. I felt like the music got louder, and the voices of everyone around too. I could bring her to my room if she wanted to talk but I didn't want to leave Millie by herself.

"Oh, okay, what is it?"

"Mm, not here, can we go somewhere more... quiet?"

My eyes found Summer's and suddenly, I felt a bit annoyed. I couldn't believe she wasn't seeing what was happening between Louis and Millie and I didn't know how to tell her it was the wrong time for all of this. I didn't know if she really had something important to tell me, or if it was just a way to get to be alone with me but I was not in the mood for either.

"Summer, I don't think right now's the time."

"Please, it's really important."

I glanced again at the kitchen and finally sighed with a nod, turning on my heels and walking to the hall. It was quiet, since most people were in the living room and when I turned around, I noticed how nervous Summer was. She tilted her head and pressed her lips together, grabbing her ponytail and twisting a lock of hair around one of her fingers.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I don't know how to tell you that."

"As it comes." I proposed, raising my eyebrows.

She breathed in and cleared her throat, taking a step closer and placing her palm gently on my chest. At first, I thought she was going to tell me she wanted us to stop, but the way she was touching me was telling me I was wrong. I looked down at her with a small frown and she just closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I like you, Niall." she quickly let out, making my heart skip a beat. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't think I just want a friends with benefits thing with you... I think I want more. I want to... go on real dates with you, and see if, you know, we could work out."

"Summer, I like you too, you know that." I looked down at her, my eyes roaming on her face, trying to find out exactly how I felt so I could explain it to her but I suddenly felt completely lost. Of course I liked Summer, and I didn't want to lose her, but she knew I was still in love with my ex girlfriend, and she knew my heart was still broken. I was not sure what she was expecting with that confession and I didn't know how to tell her I was not ready. I felt like I had mentioned everything already, and that it was clear but from the way she was looking at me, I realized she probably hoped some things had changed, and my feelings too. "It's just-"

I was stopped by a noise coming from the kitchen and my head moved up quickly. I let out a curse word in a whisper and apologized to Summer before walking past her and rushing to the kitchen, only to find Millie on her knees, trying to pick up the pieces of her broken glass.

"Ouch! Fuck!"

I rushed down on my knees too and grabbed her hand with a sigh. She was bleeding and when she looked up at me, she made a grimace.

"Stupid move, Mill."

"I know, I'm queen clumsy."

"Trust me, you're not the one who made the worst move tonight." I quickly replied, thinking about Louis. "Wait a second, okay?"

I picked all the pieces of glass carefully and put them in the garbage bin before grabbing the broom and sweeping the floor quickly just as Summer appeared near. I looked up at her as she raised her eyebrows and brought her shoulders closer to her cheeks in a cute and shy way.

"Can we finish our discussion?"

I walked to her and looked down in her eyes, placing my hands on her shoulders. "Can it wait?" I asked in a whisper. "I really need to take care of my friend right now. But I promise I'll call you tomorrow."

The expression on Summer's face made me believe I hadn't said the right thing and she lost her smile and sighed before nodding. "Yea, alright. It's late, I should leave."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and left. I took a step her way but stopped myself and closed my eyes, groaning low. I hated being torn between my best friend and the girl I liked, it was a bad feeling, and when I finally walked back to Millie, she raised her eyebrows at me.

"Dick move, Horan. Run to her, now."

"No." I replied firmly, grabbing her hand and holding it palm up. "You need me more, right now."

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself, you know."

"Shut up."

I felt like she wanted to answer something but I just brought her with me through the living room and we finally reached the bathroom. I closed and locked the door behind us before bringing her hand to the sink. Slowly, I cleaned the wound and wrapped a small bandage around her finger. She kept silent the whole time and when I was done, I looked up in her eyes and sighed. There were so many things I wanted to ask, so many things I wanted to say, but instead, I brought her to her room and she walked in before turning to me and raising her eyebrows.

"You can come in. And close the door, please."

I did as she asked but couldn't help my eyes from roaming around the room. It was quite messy but it's not what I noticed first. On the walls, you could see the posters of some of her favorite movies and although I had expected her to have a shelf with thousands of books, there were only a few placed on her bedside table. Her bed was not made and she just sat on it with a sigh and spread her legs before patting the place next to her. I hesitated but finally sat next to her, leaning my head on one of her pillows.

"Why are you avoiding Summer?"

"Why did you invite Louis and his new girlfriend? What are you trying to prove?"

Both questions remained unanswered for a while and after a while, Millie turned to look at me. "I never told Louis how I felt."

"What... do you mean?"

"I never told him about my feelings. I never told him how important he was for me." she explained more. "Yesterday after I left I just.. I texted him to tell him it was okay, that I didn't love him that way either."

"He knows better. I mean, if he knows you at all, he shouldn't have believed that."

"Sometimes we believe because we want to. Deep down he probably knows I lied but he prefers to think I didn't, so he can be with her without feeling guilty. I don't want him to feel guilty. You can't control feelings, you know? If he loves her and not me then I can't do anything about it, and he can't either."

"He still shouldn't have brought her here." I mumbled, raising my nose in a grimace.

"She's so gorgeous."

"I told you, you're prettier."

Millie scoffed and rolled her eyes before sending me a very small and sad smile. "Lies. And we both know it. She's totally your type too, so thanks for trying to make me feel better but I don't believe it."

"I'm not lying." I argued, looking at her.

"I don't even know her name." Millie added, ignoring my comment. "It must be something classy or royal or something."

I chuckled and my lips curled despite myself. "Mill, come on, it makes no sense."

She sent me my smile back and nudged me gently. "Your turn."

"She told me she liked me and wanted to go on dates." I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds. "I told her about Grace, I told her how I was not over her, and she wants to rush things. It makes me uncomfortable."

"You like her, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do." I shrugged, my eyes fluttering open and meeting my best friend's. "I'm just not ready."

"Then tell her that. Or give it a try. Those are literally your two options." Millie shrugged. "At least you have options, you know? Pick one and stick to it."

I stared at my friend who sent me a sad smile again and reaching for her hand to squeeze her fingers. I knew she was always trying to look tough, strong and indifferent but on that night, she had expressed and showed more vulnerability with me than she had in all those years I've known her. She was opening up to me in a way I felt she never did with anyone, not even Louis, and that meant a lot to me, way more than I could explain.

"Thank you." I whispered, turning her sad smile into an amused one.

"I didn't do anything, it's just the obvious choices."

"No, I mean, thank you for trusting me and telling me how you feel."

Her smile faltered before finally disappearing. I was scared I had said something I shouldn't have but she just squeezed my fingers back and nodded slowly without answering. I moved slightly close to murmur again.

"I promise you won't regret it."

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