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snelbz · 3 years

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Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 3378

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Hestia

– Goddess of the hearth, home and family

Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.

Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.

At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.

As well as sexual ones.

Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.

Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.

She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.

It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.

“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”

“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”

Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.

Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.

“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.

He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”

He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.

Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.

And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”

She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.

“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”

“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.

Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”

It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.

There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.

Or his mouth.

Or any other body parts.

That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.

“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”

She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.

“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.

“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”

Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.

“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”

Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.

Alone.

“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.

“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”

Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”

Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.

Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.

A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.

“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”

The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.

“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”

Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”

“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”

“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”

With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.

Silence enveloped the room.

Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.

“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”

For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”

Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”

Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.

Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.

He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.

Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.

Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.

Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.

We need to have a talk.

Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.

As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.

After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.

She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.

“Ace?”

Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”

Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”

Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.

Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”

She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”

Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.

“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”

“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”

“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”

“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”

“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.

“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.

Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”

“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.

“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”

Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.

Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.

Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?

No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.

“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.

“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”

“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.

Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”

“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”

“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”

“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”

Aelin nodded.

Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”

A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”

To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”

Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”

“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”

“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”

As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”

His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”

Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”

“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.

“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.

He wanted Aelin in it.

#rowaelin ttf #snacmc ttf #tempting the fates #throne of glass #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #snacmc collabs

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seijoh-apologist · 3 years

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stupidly in like with you | miya atsumu

pairing: post-timeskip!miya atsumu x f!reader word count: 14.6k (OOPS LMFAO) genre: friends to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, and like a few too many pages of fluffy smut -- third person pov for the most part. NSFW. synopsis: Atsumu and Y/N are good friends, maybe feelings are involved but Y/N isn’t his type. OR Y/N and Atsumu are most definitely in like with each other but for whatever reason aren’t dating.

A/N: hi so this is my first “published” hq fic but like here is this thought that I had and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. it’s mostly edited thanks to my irl friend but bare with my run on sentences and (slightly excessive) use of profanity. any feedback would be appreciated b/c I have more thoughts for other characters and I'd love to share haha.

To say Y/N was annoyed was an understatement.

Aching feet begged for relief, the sweat-soaked shirt, though cute, had begun to cling to that one fold in her side that made her the slightest bit hyper aware of the “stress weight” she swears she's put on during the holiday season. And the music was absolute shit, shuffling between mash-ups of the Top 100 trending songs and some weird EDM-Indie music that she would pay good money to never hear again.

To put it plainly, she was not in the mood to be out of her home, much less celebrate. But she had agreed to come out, never being able to say no to Sakusa, who silently pleaded with his eyes to take on “babysitting” responsibilities of his teammates for tonight. He had paid for her dinner several times before tonight, claiming that she should save her money - “you should spend your money on getting a better mattress, so we don’t have to hear you complain about it anymore.” - the least she could do was give him a night to himself, away from the chaos that was the rest of the MSBY team.

Besides, it's not like she was asked to stalk them or anything - they were friends after all, so really it was just like she was tagging along for a night of club hopping, taking shots that she didn’t have to pay for, and simply people watching in between trips to the dancefloor. And normally, she’d be enjoying the night - it's just that of all nights to come out and celebrate, it had to be at the end of one of the most stress-inducing, aggravating weeks of her young adult life.

Checking that it was well after one in the morning, she sipped water from her straw, swivelling to face the crowd from her (stolen) seat at the bar, in hopes of catching the attention of someone in her party that could get the hint that they should probably get ready to go. What she did not expect to find, however, was Atsumu, flitting his eyes away from her figure as he leaned down to talk to a pair of girls. It could just be a friendly gesture, asking him if he was who they think he was and him responding but it sent a less than pleasant feeling in her stomach, so she swiveled back, reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her suddenly too tight pants.

“Fuck me,” she huffs out upon seeing that her phone battery has fallen to thirty percent, which would be just delightful when it would be time to call the ubers home. She could now rule out aimlessly scrolling through Twitter for the rest of the night while waiting for her friends.

“Uh.. maybe slip in a ‘please’ and I’m yours.”

Y/N’s eyes all but bugged out her head at the response that came from her left. The voice belongs to a guy, a very cute guy. The kind of cute guy that you see on Instagram explore page before it refreshes so the chances of seeing him again are nonexistent.She sputters out a delayed apology, double-time since she realized that she’s now taken a little too long to respond to him, to which he laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I should be apologizing for interrupting you, it's just.... You looked a little lonely over here. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Seat’s all yours... but you’re on your own if those people from before come back to reclaim them.” She hums, sliding her phone back into her pocket and shifting her legs slightly in the direction of his seat.

“Scared of a little fight?” He hums, arching a brow before taking a swig of his beer. He has nice hands. Y/N muses to herself as she watches the stranger’s fingers flex slightly around the neck of his beer bottle. She’s always of the mind that a person’s hands say a lot about them.

“Mmm no… just too tired to defend myself, much less a random stranger.” He laughs at that, nodding his head before replying that “most pretty girls don’t openly say they can fight.”

“Oh you’re cheesy, aren’t you? Nobody straight up tells a girl they’re pretty for no real reason.”

“Actually,” Shifting his beer bottle onto the bar, he holds out his hand to her. “My name is not cheesy, it’s -”

“Y/N! There you are!”

The call of her name makes her jump slightly, before she feels the familiar warmth of a hand on her back. The same hand worms its way to her hip, fingers slipping into that soft fold just above her pants, the warmth of his next words being felt just above her ear. “Where the hell’ve ya been? Was lookin’ all over the place for ya, Bo and Shoyo were worried ya left without us!”

“Been right here, idiot. We lost our original seats so I’d figure you’d come to the bar at some point and I could’ve waved you down.” She shifts slightly, turning her shoulder back towards the cute stranger with an apologetic look in her eye, to which he smiles and opens his mouth to respond until Atsumu cuts him off again, his hand gripping the back of her neck to make her give him her total attention.

“Right well I’m starving - let's get outta here. Kinda craving your infamous drunk noodles, or maybe a McDonald’s on the way home, yeah?”

Y/N nods slightly, turning back towards the stranger to see that he’s already slinking back into the crowd. Once she fully loses him, she shoves her elbow into the blonde’s side, telling him to “shut it” when he throws out a huff of pain.

“Thank you, ‘Tsumu… could’ve had a different ride home but nooooo.. Needed to come in here with all your glory talking about you being starving despite the fact that you can afford a personal chef.” She huffs out and slides off her stool, but he’s not listening. Instead he’s holding her by the shoulders and pushing her through the crowd, excusing the two of them as she continues to rant and rave at him. Once outside, the pair are joined with the rest of the party, who have called a few separate ubers home. “And to top it off, I know you’re not even listening right now - you never listen to me, Miya. I don’t know how your teammates put up with you… how do you put up with this shit, hmm?”

The group of teammates laugh softly and shake their heads, giving answers that “they get paid” to put up with him, and that Miya Atsumu is actually “a decent friend,” a fact that she knows is true but chooses to ignore when convenient for her. Atsumu just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, pulling her into the direction of their uber for their journey back to his place. She greets the driver and settles into her seat, as Atsumu calls out behind him something or other to someone. The slam of the door and clicking of seatbelts is what fills the silence in the car, music softly playing from the rear speakers, as Atsumu leans his head back against the headrest.

“So I take it yer coming to stay with me for tonight?”

“Hmm.. don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” She teases to which Atsumu slightly pouts, reaching to knuckle at his eyes that suddenly feel a little too heavy. “You owe me the biggest breakfast fathomable tomorrow.”

“Why’s it that I owe you when I paid for your dinner before going out, paid for your drinks tonight, and am letting you sleep in my bed - which is infinitely better than your cheap ass - hey!” He begins his ranting, which would be cut off by a sturdy flick to the forehead and a slight “hush” before he feels her head rest up on his shoulder.

Y/N and Atsumu had been friends for a little while, when she chased him down the middle of the road, claiming to the public that he was a thief, just because he’d grabbed the wrong umbrella on the way out of the restaurant they were both eating in. He’d tried to apologize, but she traded umbrellas and walked back towards the direction of the restaurant. He had chalked it up to nothing really, just a slight mistake and minor inconvenience for the girl. At least until a certain teammate’s birthday dinner, where said stranger was- only this time sitting and chatting with Sakusa Kiyoomi as if they’d been best friends for forever (which in all fairness, Y/N and Kiyoomi had only been friends since college, where they were forced into a friendship by their roommates, who were hooking up with each other and forced the two on double dates). This second meeting was a sign to Atsumu, a sign that for whatever reason this girl was supposed to be in his life, in some capacity or another - but he did royally fuck it up a second time by trying to flirt with Y/N, who laughed and asked if his opening line was really the best he’d had, before hitting him with an opening line that still makes him flush when he thinks about it today.

The ride to Atsumu’s home isn’t long, but it's long enough for the tiredness to seep into Y/N’s bones, who barely misses the quiet way that Atsumu’s fingers have taken home at the base of her neck, massaging gently at the tenseness he feels under the pads of his fingers.

“Someone’s tired… why didn’t you stay home?” He asks as they turn onto his street, letting his fingers fall away from her as he begins to check that they have everything they need. ”’t’s a good thing yer sleeping over at mine... and no couch for you. Your neck is all kinds of tense. It's a miracle you haven’t complained ‘bout it once tonight.”

“Shh.. you’re so loud for what?” She mumbles while trying to stifle a yawn. “So if I’m not supposed to sleep on the couch then where am I supposed to sleep then, boy genius? The floor?”

“No,” Atsumu answers seriously, brow slightly wrinkled as he reaches for his keys in his pocket. “You’ll sleep with me. In my bed. ‘t’s a cooling mattress so you won’t haffta complain that yer too hot.”

“Miya, last time I slept in a bed with you, you nearly suffocated me. Dunno if I really wanna have to deal with trying to roll you onto your back again.”

“Wait a minute! To be fair, my bed was smaller then so there was less room for the both of us.” He begins, opening the door and shutting it before turning the two of them towards the entrance to his apartment building. “Second of all, it was my first time sharing a bed with someone other than ‘Samu so ya shouldn’t blame me for not having proper sleep manners.”

The first steps into Atsumu’s home consists of the pair kicking off their shoes, debating lightly on who was gonna take over the shower first. Y/N slides her feet into the slippers that are specifically her slippers in his home and slinks off towards the kitchen, as Atsumu peels off his shirt and heads towards the shower. It feels comfortable, almost like a routine, as Y/N gathers eggs and two noodle packets to make them a small meal before bed. Moments later, Atsumu is coming out of the shower, towelling off his hair before settling onto the sofa, clicking on the T.V. as Y/N comes in with the two bowls of noodles. A silent agreement is met when they finish that Atsumu would wash the dishes as Y/N showered, taking a shirt from his drawers to sleep in

She hands him a bottle of aspirin, mumbling around the toothbrush to “take two or so help me.” Moments later she joins him in bed, slipping on a pair of socks that are two sizes too big for her before settling under the plush fabric of his comforter. He shifts over closer to her after tossing his phone on the nightstand, seeking out her form in the now dim room for a small cuddle before dozing off. She willingly accepts him too, sliding her body just under his and buries her face in his skin, still warm from the too-hot shower he is prone to taking in the name of muscle relaxation. He hums slightly as their feet tangle together, silently appreciating the way Y/N so freely indulges his need to touch someone after being touch-starved for so long.

Though Y/N isn’t much like him in that sense - doesn’t have this inherent need to cling to someone before bed, or just hold hands at a store, or hands on the shoulder in a crowded room. Sometimes she will, like now with her nose buried in his neck and her hand rubbing up and down the length of his sturdy back. Normally they won’t do this, both just a little too headstrong to dig into the tightening in their chests when the hug for a moment longer than usual; but tonight Y/N is silently congratulating him on winning the game that has had him stressed for weeks. She feels his lips press softly to the top of her head, a mumble of “good night” leaving his lips as she feels his breaths even out as the moments pass.

This is where Y/N wishes she had the power to pull away - blames moments like this on giving her the slightest bit of hope that they could be more than friends.

It's not that she hadn’t thought about it - frankly she’d spent too much time thinking about it. She could do this… with him.. But every thought is put to bed when she thinks back on this one conversation months ago. Granted she didn’t have the full context of the conversation but it's enough to make her heart squeeze when she sees Atsumu flirt with someone, or shake off his hand when she’s had a particularly sensitive day.

It was just another evening where hanging out after him and the rest of the team being away for a week. They’d ordered in food and drinks had been flowing nicely as the comfortable pair had caught up - it was honestly too homey of a setting in hindsight. His phone rang, the white text of “‘Samu” flashed and Y/N took that as a cue to finally get to the restroom.

“Mhm.. made it back early today - no Y/N picked me up.” He’d been mumbling around a handful of chips, the other side of the conversation mute to Y/N’s eavesdropping.. “Oh shut up, she doesn’t mind and it's not as if we’re dating anyway. It’s.. casual and it works for us.”

And she should’ve stepped into her place next to him, cuddled up into her chest and played the role of the blissfully ignorant idiot. But no, she stayed tucked behind the restroom door, blood pumping and heart beating too loud in her ears. It would seem as though Y/N was a glutton for punishment, a minor thing when thinking about putting herself through a moment of pain for a lifetime of pleasure - but the pain that came with Miya Atsumu’s next words would set her off kilter for a while.

“Besides, she’s not really my type. It’d never work out anyway.”

She had no choice really other than to shut the door. Take some extra time in the restroom than necessary - after all she’d just hear the potential love of her life admit to his twin brother that she wasn’t his type. All she could do really was stare at herself in the stupidly bright mirror in his stupid guest bathroom of his stupidly expensive apartment. God this is so stupid, she thinks to herself while running cold water to press against her cheeks that she feels are heated up. Before she can really tear her own heart to bits though, she hears a quick rapt on the door.

“Y/N ya’right in there? Warned y’bout putting too much hot sauce on your food.”

But that’d been two years ago. It was a little rough after that; Y/N had thrown herself into finding a life post-grad which was a great distraction from the rumors going around that Atsumu had been spotted with some model or actress or something. Besides, Y/N wasn’t really the type to harp on failed romantic interests - all she’d need to do is download whatever relevant dating app for some validation and she’d be able to move on. However nights like tonight, when he looked too good and the little moment was a little too right - she’d still hope. Make a wish to whatever angle number or shooting star or deity above that she’d get tossed a chance to be in love with the stupid setter, because she had already fallen.

“Mm y’right?” She heard him, how could she not when he’s practically suffocating her. She chooses not to answer though, humming affirmatively - to which he huffs and shifts slightly, settling back into unconsciousness.

Maybe she’d blame the train of thoughts for tonight on the fact that she’d been drinking. However, come morning, the seed would bloom a little brighter in her chest when she wakes up to realize that her face is pressed into his side, arms circling his slim waist and one sock lost among their tangled legs.

---

God she hated him. Miya Atsumu was too much of a lot of things - too much of a sore winner, too much of an idiot, too much of a talker, and most of all, too much of a liar.

For the second time in the span of a month, Atsumu had convinced her to come out, despite her desperately wanting to curl up in bed and binge eat away the stress of the week. Only this time it was a charity event, so she would definitely be the bad guy if she said no. It was an event where him and the rest of his team had been roped into a charity dinner - which (gratefully) meant that Sakusa would be around, and they could fuck off to a corner someplace to talk shit about what all the rich wives are wearing and how bad it looks when their husbands are flirting with the wait staff. But Atsumu had promised that they’d leave before the entree was served - swore the entire drive over that “we’ll get you back home in time, grandma” and that he’d even cook for her this time.

But the entree had been whisked off about forty minutes ago, her wine glass had been refilled twice, and she was bored of watching Sakusa look at his watch, waiting for an appropriate time to leave. Atsumu was a few tables away, chatting up some couple, something about wanting to get their information for Osamu’s business. He would laugh a little too loudly at their jokes, gaining attention of those at surrounding tables - which was only mildly irritating as he had now gathered a crowd of people around him, spewing off some story about him getting lost in Russia the first time they played overseas.

She huffs and stands up, chair scraping slightly, gaining the attention of the rest of the table. All she does is hold up her wine glass in a feeble attempt at an answer of where she’d be waiting at the bar. If I have to be here, the least I could do is drink for free. The bar is empty, surprisingly no one wants to mope around this very nice dinner.

“What can I get you?”

“Mmm.. whiskey highball, please.” She answers to the unnecessarily cute bartender, but the raise of his eyebrows do not go unnoticed. And fortunately (or unfortunately) she’s got the time to press him. “Surprised?”

“Only a little bit. Noticed you were drinking wine most of the night so the whiskey is a hard switch.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” She muses, smiling as he places the drink in front of her. He smiles and leans forward on the bar slightly, shaking his head and replying.

“It’s almost as if… I’m being paid to make sure people have their drinks.”

“Oh, so it's not because I’m cute?”

“Now I didn’t say that did I? But you know you’re gorgeous; your boyfriend over there must tell you all the time.” He muses, a smirk playing at his lips as he nods behind her. She all but chokes on her drink when she turns around and sees that the direction he nodded in was directly in Atsumu’s vicinity before shaking her head violently. Atsumu was not going to ruin this for her. “Oh so not your boyfriend?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ as she slips the straw past her lips again, eyes taking in his leaning form. He was cute. His hair was on the silver side of blond, tips of his hair black. He was tall and lean, a piercing hanging from his left ear.

“That’s a shame.” And she gives him her name with a flutter of her lashes and a sweet smile. He returns it, preparing her next drink without her even having to ask. And so they talk, first about how the next person who approaches the bar should be cut off, to how pretentious the whole event was. Two drinks in, Y/N finds herself being invited to a show.

“This whole bartending thing is just a way for me to get some extra cash… I’ve got a gig in an hour. I figured if we leave together now, I can get you home to change outta this and into something a little more… concert fitting?”

“O-Oh.. yeah. I just need to go let my friend know…” She trails off, sliding off her barstool before turning to gracefully power walking to her initial seat next to Sakusa. She huffs and she plots herself down in the char next to him, to which he gives her a look of what the fuck. “I don’t have time to catch you up, but the insanely hot bartender is taking me home. As much as I’d love to get out of here with you, I desperately need to get lai-”

“Going somewhere?” Fuck fuck fuck.

“Didn’t you hear her? The hot bartender is taking her home and she needs -”

“Aishhhh shut up.” She turns to look at her curly haired friend, only to see that he’s got this annoying little smile on his face. She deeply exhales and turns back to Atsumu, who looks less than amused about what his friend said. “Listen, you promised me we’d leave two hours ago. Well you lied so nooow I made plans, so if you would kindly move outta my way.”

“No.” She whips her head up at the blonde. No? What the absolute fuck was he going on about telling her no, despite her not asking for his permission. “You’ve been drinking and you don’t even know the guy - how can you trust that he won’t memorize your address then come rob you or something? I promised to take you home, and since you’re ready now we can leave now.”

“Listen Miya, I appreciate the concern but really I’m a big girl. I can handle a night out by myself with a guy - besides I’m not even that drunk. Now, give me my house keys and move out of my way.”

Suddenly, it's like those cheesy western movies where two cowboys are staring each other down, neither willing to be put down by the other. Except it's this 6’2” pro-athlete staring quite literally down at Y/N, who hits the gym only on a blue moon and spends too much time sitting at a desk. Sakusa has to laugh at the two stubborn idiots in front of him; he knows that Atsumu is going to be able to win this little game that they're playing, but silently applauds Y/N for attempting to stick it to him. Moments pass before Atsumu finally sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit and pulling out her keys - but he doesn’t give them to her.

“What’s his name? If you can tell me his name I’ll give you your keys and let you go.”

“Let me go? Okay, Dad.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, small clutch dangling from her wrist. “I know his name, Atsumu. I may have had a drink or two but I’m not an idiot to be going off with someone who’s name I don’t even know... it’s… uhm.” And she’s done. She hadn’t even bothered to ask his name, doesn’t even remember whether she gave him hers, nor was she smart enough to notice whether he’d been wearing a name tag. Mentally she’s cursing herself, chancing a glance behind Atsumu’s shoulder to see the hot bartender chatting it up with another girl. Before she can think too much into it, Atsumu sighs deeply, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair next to her and slipping it on his shoulders, a soft “let’s go” leaving his lips as he nods his good-bye to the rest of the table. Y/N chews at the inside of her cheek before grabbing his arm.

“Give me my keys. I’m not going home with you. I want to be alone.”

---

Four days passed - four days of Atsumu borderline harassing Y/N with apologies. Promising to make it up to her. Which is how she finds herself walking into their favorite local sushi restaurant - it's the only one that has self-serving sushi that arrives on a miniature train, and it's also the only place that they go when apologies are to be exchanged. In the handful of years that they’d be friends, Y/N has needed to apologize to Atsumu thrice - two for blowing him off after overhearing the dreaded words and once for saying that maybe Osamu was the better twin. Atsumu on the other hand, had apologized to Y/N many times - so many times in fact that Y/N is sure that he makes up excuses just so they can come eat at this sushi place.

It’s been a long week for Y/N. The Sunday after the charity event, Y/N wakes up with one of the worst headaches of her life - and its due to the fact that she slept like shit hoping that Atsumu made it home safe since he hadn’t texted her he did. Monday she was handed a stack of documents at work that needed to get done before lunch (which didn’t get done). Tuesday morning was dominated by the fact that some idiot on the train to work had spilt a coffee on her, making her wear the most uncomfortable suit jacket, lest she wear a coffee soaked shirt for most of the day. Today, Wednesday, she’d woken up to a box with a pastry outside her door and a cup of coffee with a sticky note on the lid.

Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Train Sushi? 7pm?

Despite the fact that she was most definitely still thinking about why Atsumu acted the way he did - she still went through the mountain of paperwork on her desk with a little smile, knowing that she’d be getting free sushi and an apology. Maybe if she’s lucky, she can convince him that she needs a crepe on the way home.

As she makes her way into the restaurant that evening, she sees him. His dorito-shaped body is stationed at the bar, a cozy brown coat hugging his back, muscles of his arms being squeezed by the sleeves. She can see that he’s got a drink in front of him and she smiles slightly, stepping up towards the bar but stops momentarily. He’s talking to someone - not just someone, a girl. He’s smiling too. Y/N can’t see the stranger’s face, but judging by the way that she has a hand around his biceps and her head tilted, one can only assume that they know each other. Y/N attempts to step backwards, she wants to let him finish his conversation with the woman but she doesn’t know if she can stomach the idea of watching them flirt; but she misses the step, leading her to bump into the hostess who led her to the bar, creating a bit of a scene.

“Y/N! There you are! C’mere.”

She’s buying time by profusely apologizing to the hostess, who honestly is probably just trying to get away. At this point, Y/N has no choice but to walk towards her friend and this mystery woman. The ten steps towards the pair is enough time for Y/N to mentally list off all the things she could have done in the world to warrant some shitty karma that’s hitting her now. Once face to face with Atsumu, she smiles.

“Sorry - long day at work got me all …” Y/N’s words trail off, the hand that’s not death-gripping her purse waves off with her closing thoughts.

“Don’t mind, Wednesday’s are usually your long days. ‘Sides you’re here now - tha’s what matters.” God he’s so dumb. So handsome and so dumb, and god did she miss him. “It’s a good thing you got here a little late, this is Michimiya Yui. I think you two might’ve -”

“No, I don’t think we’ve met! It’s so nice to meet you - he used to talk about you all the time!” The brunette smiles at Y/N, sticking her hand out, which Y/N takes limply, shaking her hand. She’s pretty, Y/N thinks to herself. Her hair is short and she’s wearing some cute leather thigh high boots, her smile is almost paid-for perfect. She’s got this whole brown smoked out eyeliner working for her, which makes Y/N slightly subconscious about her most likely smudged and uneven eyeliner and less-than appealing work pants. Before Y/N can even think of a response to give, Michimiya has her hand back on Atsumu, a pretty smile settling on her lips. It feels like Y/N is watching a trainwreck happening before her eyes. “I was just telling Atsumu that I was back in town and that we should hang out!”

“And I was just explaining to her that I had plans with yo-”

“You should join us!” Idiot. Why am I such a fucking idiot? Atsumu looks over at Y/N with a wild look in his eyes, Michimiya looks like a child who wound up making out with two candies instead of one. “I had a super long day at work today so I’m really only able to eat dinner, but I know Atsumu can stay up for hours so once I leave you two can hang out.”

“Y/N, I thought that -”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I just need to tell the wait staff to cancel my to-go order, so excuse me.”

And so the two friends watch the woman walk away from them, making her way towards the to-go order area. Y/N bites at the inside of her cheek, intentionally avoiding Atsumu’s eyes that she feels are pinned on her. She digs out her phone from her purse, texting Sakusa an ominous “next time you see me, please poison me 😑.” As Y/N drags her eyes up Atsumu’s front, she feels the same way she did when she would get scolded by her parents. His eyes are staring at her face, no doubt wanting to press her about why she willingly invited a stranger to eat with them at their restaurant. To pacify him, all she does is hold up her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Miya. Like you said, Wednesday’s are my long days so I wouldn’t be able to stay out late with you anyway. Besides…” She starts, fixing a smile onto her face. “I think that she might have a little crush on you!” He says nothing, lips pressed in a hard line and a brow arched up at her. “Don’t look at me like that. And save your apology for next time… we have company.”

The rest of the evening goes exactly like Y/N’s worst nightmare. She is quite literally the third-wheel despite the fact that technically Michimiya was supposed to be the third wheel in this little scenario. Y/N has to watch the pretty brunette flirt relentlessly with Atsumu, who seems blissfully oblivious to the fact that for every compliment Michimiya gives Y/N, she gives herself two more. Sakusa is well informed on the situation, receiving texts every five minutes with another dumb thing that was said in front of Y/N’s appatizers. Rarely does someone ever wish for a natural disaster to hit, but in the last thirty minutes of sitting at this table, Y/N has wished for every biblical curse to wreak havoc in her way.

Despite the fact that Michimiya has hijacked every conversation, Atsumu still tries to ask Y/N about her, including her in the conversation as much as possible. But Y/N stopped trying twenty minutes ago, and is now forcing herself to eat the last few pieces of sushi she ordered - normally she’s a stress eater, but Michimiya has rested her hand on Atsumu’s thigh and Y/N has suddenly never felt more sick in her life. Y/N has never once picked up a tab around Atsumu - “please, ‘ve got more money than I know whatta do wit’it” he’d always tell her when she attempted to take up the ticket - but when they finally wave down someone and ask for the check, Y/N drops some cash on the table and collects her things.

“It’s been so nice to meet you, but I think I should really get going. I’ve gotta get to work early tomorrow - I’ll see you this weekend right, Miya?”

“Wait up, I’ll take you home… Yui it’s been really -”

“No no, really it's okay! You stay! I’ll just text you when I get home. Be safe. And again it was so nice to meet you - take care of Atsumu for me.”

“Oh I will!”

Y/N is not a runner but she’s never sprinted away from a situation so fast in her life. The image of Michimiya’s sly little smile at Y/N’s request to take care of her friend makes her feel gross, tears stinging at the back of her eyes and she settles on the train. Y/N can name a handful of times when she’d seen Atsumu around women - but never once had she’d met someone he was romantically involved with and it hurts. The gentle sway of the train does nothing to settle the spinning of her head with images of what Atsumu actually looks for - his actual type. She feels like an idiot; she should have just told Atsumu that they could do a raincheck, or if she was feeling bold, she could’ve told Michimiya to fuck off. The latter seems possible in the version of herself in Y/N’s head, but the reality was that she was too nice. Always wanted to make the people she cares about happy, and Atsumu looked... happy? Besides, Y/N thinks to herself as she exits the train and makes the trek towards her apartment building, if Michimiya Yui was going to be involved with Atsumu, the more exposure she had to her, the better off Y/N would be in accepting that Atsumu would never ever be with Y/N like that.

Once settled in her apartment, she sends off a quick “home. thanks for tonight!” to Atsumu before making her way to the bathroom. A nice warm soak would surely make her feel better, make her forget about what an idiot she is and maybe, just maybe, make her body relax all the love she holds in her heart for the blond away. Her phone pings, twice, but she ignores it. Ten minutes into her pity soak she hears a bang on her door, which only makes her groan and dunk her head under the water. The banging stops, making Y/N think it was just her neighbor or something asking for a favor. What she doesn’t expect is for her to exit the bath twenty minutes later to see Sakusa Kiyoomi sittin on her couch.

“Hello, glad to see you exploiting your spare key access.”

“Miya called me and said you looked like shit earlier. And judging by your texts throughout the evening, I figured you were on the brink of a breakdown.”

And so she was. She spent the rest of the evening talking Kiyoomi through the night, slipping in all the questions she’s had from the past two times that Atsumu had cockblocked her. And bless Kiyoomi for sitting through her tears, sitting cross-legged and drinking tea that he had initially made for her but refused to let her drink once he realized she had already brushed her teeth. It felt almost like she was finally thinking about what her friendship with Miya Atsumu was, what it could and couldn’t be. Every moment painted so clearly about how Y/N felt for her blond friend, but the only thing missing was how said friend felt about her. At 11:30 pm, two hours after Kiyoomi initially arrived at Y/N’s apartment, she pushed Kiyoomi out the door, eyes puffy but heart and head a little clearer than how they were when he arrived.

Despite promising Kiyoomi that she would not think about Atsumu, as Y/N settles into bed, her thoughts can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. She mulls it over as she slides off her socks, deciding that it’d be nice - probably exactly how they are now, plus a title and a little less swatting his hands away when he reaches for her in public. Y/N can’t help it as she thinks about whether they would kiss a lot - they’ve kissed before, neither strangers to cheek kisses as greetings or kisses at the top of their heads when the other is crying into their chest (there was even that very drunk kiss they shared on New Years Eve when their friendship was fresh that both still have warm cheeks about when they think about). Just as she’s about to go down the path of whether Atsumu would spend more nights with her at her cardboard box of an apartment or her at his, Y/N cuts herself off - after all she wasn’t his type. Tonight proved that more than anything, she thinks.

It’s not like Atsumu has never brought anyone around Y/N - there’d been a few that she’d met, though they were mostly over a facetime call and it was mostly just her waving at them before Atsumu ducked away to have a private conversation. It's not like tonight was the first night Y/N had to swallow the bile in her mouth at seeing someone make heart eyes at Atsumu - it's just this time felt different; almost like Y/N was finally having the truth thrusted into her face. But Y/N isn’t mad or hateful of Michimiya, nor Atsumu for that matter - she’d never been the type to hate a girl for having feelings for the person she has feelings for. It’s annoying, sure, but Y/N doesn’t see the point in hating someone for how they feel - however, Y/N does not make the effort to become friends with these girls, or maintain the close friendship with Atsumu for that matter. Is it petty to put a strain on a friendship out of fear of losing said friendship? Absolutely! But Y/N knows she won’t be able to stomach another night like tonight - another night of seeing Atsumu slip so easily from her fingers into the arms of another. And as observant as Atsumu is, he never fully recognizes that Y/N is avoiding him, at least that what she hopes since more often than he’s able to worm himself back into her life.

---

Following the failed apology dinner, Y/N tried her hardest to give herself a few days without the blonde- made easy by the fact that the weekend after the failed apology dinner he’d be out of town for another tournament. It’s not like she was totally avoiding him, she’d responded to his texts and even answered two of his six facetime calls while he was away, she just wanted a little bit of time to wallow in self pity in her apartment, crying over her comfort movies and eating too many bags of hot chips. But once he was back in the same timezone as her, Atsumu made it impossible for Y/N to fully wallow.

It started when he texted her about their favorite crepe place temporarily closing for some reason or other - he’d tried to convince her to ditch work early that day to come, but Y/N declined with a simple text of “i like my job tyvm.” So what did he do? Pick her up in his flashy sports car that day after work (two hours later than usual since she’d figured he’d do something ridiculous like this) and drove her there, where he didn’t bat an eyelash as she ordered double than what she normally would have (a silent fuck you from Y/N but it didn’t matter since she wasn’t actualy hurting his wallet). She’d been able to tide him off for a few days, as she escaped to her hometown for a weekend - but that did little to stop the mirage of texts he’d sent her, describing in great detail this cool hybrid bookstore-game cafe that he found and thinks she’d like. Instead of responding how she actually wanted, she’d just replied with a half-assed “ahh exciting- sounds cute!” (She mentally grants herself ten nice points for erasing her initially text, telling him to take his “fucking girlfriend”). This must have really struck a nerve with him when the following weekend, he’d dragged her out of bed on Sunday morning to take her to said bookstore-game cafe, even spoiling her by secretly buying a book she’d picked up but put back.

Y/N can’t tell if Atsumu is intentionally ignoring the hints she doesn’t want to see him or if he’s really just oblivious. She also can’t tell if the patter of her heart when he drags her out of bed despite her not wanting to see him is a good thing or not. It’s been weeks since she’d third-wheeled with Atsumu and Michimiya, surely Y/N should have been able to take a little bit of pride in the fact that he was literally chasing her down to spend time with her rather than Michimiya - but before she can even swallow that pill Atsumu shows up at her apartment with the trace of a bruise hiding just below his shirt collar. The small mark on his neck makes Y/N convince herself that this would be the time that she needs a full on Atsumu ban.

Said ban never actually happens, though.

Just as proof that this ban doesn’t happen, today Atsumu has decided that Y/N needs to come shopping with him. For the entire day. Cue the montage of Atsumu banging on Y/N’s door at nine in the morning, breakfast pastries and coffee in hand as Y/N answers in all her morning glory, sleep caked up in the outer corner of her eyes and pajamas haphazardly fixed. Words are exchanged as Atsumu pushes her towards the shower, promising to make up her bed and even take out the trash for her (a chore she put off last night because she’d seen too many people smoking by the dumpsters which scared her enough to make her drag up the two bags of back up the five flights of stairs). As Y/N settles at her desk to work on making herself “the hottest person at the market,” Atsumu settles on her bed, talking a mile a minute about all the things he wanted to get at the market and the possible places they could go for lunch in the area. All she can do is hum, wondering silently why he’d chosen to take the trip with her and not his girlfriend - but she wouldn’t complain.

The market was...fulfilling enough. Surprisingly, Y/N was walking towards the food trucks with more bags in her hands than Atsumu, who followed behind her with one print from a vendor that Y/N convinced him would actually look good in his home office. The pair decided that Y/N was better suited to look for a place where they could park themselves to eat, while Atsumu went off to get them lunch. Before Y/N could make a break for the tables though, Atsumu grabbed her face, thumb swiping at her cheek firmly - it took Y/N every ounce of restraint to not whimper at the unprompted affection.

“Wha-”

“Had some of that jam sample from earlier on your face, dummy.”

“Tsk… why didn’t you see it earlier.”

He just smiled softly, letting the warmth of his hand fall from her face before patting her back towards her initial direction. Frankly, she’d been thrown off her rhythm; they’d touched each other before for fucks sake. So why was this one moment of closeness enough to make her chest feel tight? As she weaved through the tables, she can’t help but hold her hand to where his was, almost as if to preserve the warmth that was now gone. She hummed gleefully as she found a table, making her way towards it and setting up camp. As she settles into her chair, fingers deftly texting to Atsumu where she’s stationed, she sees a shadow come across the table.

“Hey, are you gonna use all these chairs?” He’s cute, almost terribly cute - he’s got this pinkish-blonde hair going on top, an almost shy glint in his gray-ish colored eyes, and an almost self-assured smile pulling at his lips. He was also tall, much taller since Y/N was sitting, but she almost doesn’t mind considering the fact that she is most definitely gawking at him. She shakes her head momentarily, both as an answer to his question and a way to clear her head momentarily.

“Thanks! My friend over there is too precious to sit on the curb, apparently.” He smiles at her, eyes squinting and she’s momentarily breathless at just how cute he is when he smiles. His arms move to grab one of the chairs and that's when she decides to speak up, not wanting to quite end the conversation yet.

“Ahh no worries! I know all about having that too precious friend! I only need one other chair so you can take two of these.”

“Oh cool thanks… and hey this might be a little weird but - fuck are you from Miyagi? You look kinda like this one girl from high school but - “

“I am! I went to Aoba Johsai and -”

He clicks his tongue and seems to smile even brighter now. “That’s right - you’re Y/N right? I think you were a year younger than us right, but you always hung out with that one girl in my year who used to smoke behind the boy’s gym…” Y/N nods, a grimace on her face and the back of her neck feeling a little warm with embarrassment. How could she possibly explain that said girl was actually Y/N’s cousin and that she didn’t actually smoke, she’d just smell like it after working at their family restaurant. “Well I’m Makki, by the way. If you remember Matsukawa and Iwaizumi they're over there - they were at Seijoh too.” She nods, leaning slightly to see the two men behind him, both wearing smiles that were just a little too cheeky.

“Yeah yeah, I remember… you also had a particular whiny one with you too, right?” He laughs at that, responding that said whiny one was actually abroad. The two make a little conversation, her giving him some suggestions on places to visit since one of his trio is actually visiting for the weekend. Y/N thinks this is nice - feels like the main character in a movie with the amount of men that have approached her in the past couple weeks. Before she can get too cocky in her ability to pull though, Atsumu walks up to the table, hands full with a tray that seems to be piled with too many little plates.

“There y’are… couldn’t see you from across the way… everything okay?” Atsumu questions, standing to his full height as if sizing up Makki, who seems completely unphased by Atsumu.

“Yeah, was just asking your girlfriend if I could steal these two chairs away before I realized that we knew each other.” The strawberry blonde is definitely unphased by Atsumu, who’s shoulders visibly relax at Makki’s suggestion that the two friends were together. “Well it was nice seeing you, Y/N! Thanks again for the chairs, you all enjoy your meal.”

As Makki walks away, Atsumu settles into his own chair with a smug little smile playing at his lips. Y/N, on the other hand, is chewing at the inside of her cheek as food is placed in front of her. Her blond friend, the observant little shit, notices that she doesn’t immediately tuck into the lunch laid in front of her and nudges her foot with his, muttering a quick “what's wrong.”

“You were blessed with possibly the worst timing in the world, y’know that?”

“What d’ya mean?” He muses, taking in her huffily pulling the lid off her food and stuffing her face with the rice bowl in front of her.. She chews, combing the food on her plate with the plastic fork as a way to stop herself from unleashing all her frustrations.

“You always but in whenever I start getting hit on! Or you stop every chance I have at possibly getting to know someone; you come in here full force and its really not fair. I don’t do it to you, and it's just not fair.” Y/N hates that she probably sounds like a whining child, but she really can’t help it anymore. It’s really not fair that Atsumu flaunts his conquests on the cover of every magazine, but god forbid Y/N talk to a guy. “Its been a while since I’ve had sex, Atsumu, and it’s getting to a point where I’d jump just about anyone’s bones. I - I just think that as my best friend you should be providing me some support, not cockblocking me at every fucking opportunity you get.”

It takes every fiber in his body to not laugh at how ridiculous Y/N is being right now. He licks at his lip, catching whatever food crumbs he could before clearing his throat. “‘M sorry what? You actually wanna hook up with those guys? They seem like the type to just fuck ya n’ then not text you back.”

“And if that’s what I want then so what!? Did you miss the part where I said I’m desperate here?”

“Then..” He takes a swig at his water bottle in front of him, leaning back slightly in his seat and sliding his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head. “If you need it that badly then you can just do it with me. You said anyone so I can -”

She laughs, one that sounds on the brink of delusion. “You’re fucking ridiculous. Yeah okay… Dunno if you remember but you’ve got a girlfriend, Miya.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Y/N. We’re… not that serious with each other and we’re also open. She knows that..'' He looks smug, and Y/N wants to smack the absolute life out of him. “And I’m being serious, darlin.. I’d rather get you off than see you get your hopes up over some random.”

Y/N squeezes the poor utensil in her hand, choosing to chomp down one of the buns on the table instead of reminding Atsumu that she wasn’t exactly his type. But she lets it go, just squinting at him and shaking her head, mumbling how ridiculous he is before swiping some of his veggies off his plate. How else is she supposed to react to her best friend blatantly telling her that he’d fuck her if she’d ask - she tries to ignore the way that their knees resting on each other under the table makes her heart soar. Before she can form a sentence, something to steer the direction away from her sex life (or lack thereof), Atsumu mumbles around a forkful of food that she’d better hurry since he wants to do another lap of the market before it closes.

---

Atsumu’s offer and that entire conversation is brought up again a few days later; the pair are in Y/N’s apartment this time. She’d asked him and his brother to come over to install some shelves for her, but apparently Osamu was busy. With the shelves installed, Y/N put on a movie to serve as Atsumu’s entertainment whilst she organized her trinkets. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, too concerned with trying to see if the shelves were actually level or not when she heard Atsumu laugh behind her, muting the T.V. with a quizzical brow raised.

“Huh? If you don’t like the movie then you can change it… ‘m not payin atten-”

“Oh yeah not paying attention right?” She gives him a hard look as if proving to him that she can’t honestly give him the plot of the movie. “So you’re telling me that its just a coincidence that this movie is about two friends who make a pact to fuck each other? That it's a coincidence that the literal name of the movie is ‘Friends with Benefits”

She rolls her eyes and turns to face him fully, seeing that he’s now sat up on her couch with his elbows resting on his knees. A beat passes before he puts his hands up, almost as if in surrender, before he pushes himself off the couch and towards the kitchen. She watches him as he pulls out a bottle of wine, nodding to the couch as if asking her to take a break. She relents, folding her legs under herself and pulling at a string on the worn sofa, thinking she’d probably try to replace this piece before she renewed her lease. He thrusts the glass to her, settling into the sofa but he makes no move to unmute the T.V., instead inciting some silent battle while they each sip from their respective glasses.

“Y’know you’ve been snappy lately… my offer from the other day still stands, hope y’know tha’.” She scoffs, choosing to take another swig at her wine, which does little to cool the warmth she feels in her throat. He’s not technically wrong - the conversation the other day had made a fog of tension hang over her, making a long lost desire for the blond resurface in her lower abdomen at full force. She’d spent way too much time the other night on Amazon, debating on whether it would be a good idea to get rechargeable batteries for her toy, spent too long watching his mouth move when he’d facetimed her the other night. It's not that Y/N hadn’t hooked up with anyone since knowing Atsumu, it's just that maybe she’d spent a little too much time enjoying how Atsumu met her emotional needs that she had neglected her physical needs.

“What offer?” She’ll be damned to let him in on the fact that she’d done nothing but think about his stupid offer. Refuses to let him know that she wants, no needs, to say yes. So she plays dumb, finger dancing along the lip of her cup, foot swinging anxiously against the floor.

He hums, reaching to put his glass on her beat up coffee table. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, placing his chin in his hand, giving Y/N his undivided attention. “‘Samu was talking about how his girlfriend has been on his ass lately about every little thing and so I asked him if they’re doin’ okay, y’know physically… didn’t answer me but I figured he’d solved it if he hasn’t mentioned it since. I heard someone say that if yer girl’s acting fussy then y’need to think about if you’ve been fuckin’ her right and well…” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat, stopping the shiver that threatens to rack her body at the idea of Atsumu thinking she’s his girl. “I was bein’ serious the other day. I know ya were mad so it wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it seemed like the only good thing to say. Besides, ‘m not all that bad in bed, can ring up a few people if y’need a review.”

Y/N doesn’t respond with anything other than a forced huff of laughter, can't respond really. It feels too warm, she’s hoping that maybe this is some fever dream instead of reality. She just plays with her cup absentmindedly, not quite able to look the blond in the eyes despite the fact that his eyes are studying her face as if she holds all the answer to the questions the universe has. Him being bad in bed is the least of her worries, what if she’s bad? God she wants to say yes, maybe she’ll say yes - maybe it’d be good for her to finally get some di-

“Forget it, ‘m sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t have to, sweetheart. I just -”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Oh now she speaks. He looks at her, a wild look fixed on his face, almost as if he doesn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “It's just..” She throws her head back, face covered momentarily by some plant leaves. God she didn’t want to actually voice her thoughts but now she has no choice.

“It’s just what? If yer worried about the fuckin part, I can just get you off other ways. Get paid to be good with my hands -”

“Just shut up for once please, you’re ruining it.” He makes a show of zipping his lips, smiling as Y/N squares herself to him, stretching her neck as if she’s preparing for a fight, rather than speaking a coherent sentence.. “It's just that I don’t… dont wanna force you into thinking you have to ‘cos I’m being bitchy to you.. Like it’s not your problem to fix y’know and I just. Besides, don't wanna be the only one enjoying it, want you to like it too and … for fucks sake this is ridiculous. I just dunno I-”

Atsumu’s hand reaches out towards her, fingers stroking her knee in a comforting manner but it’s all but comforting to Y/N, who’s entire leg feels on fire at this small moment of skinship. “Shh, shh, no baby yer not forcing me to do anything. Don’t think that way - I-I wanna do it! I wan’ya to be happy and if this makes you happy then… And i mean if y’need more of a reason then think of it as a way for me to say sorry for cockblockin’ ya all the time.”

Y/N doesn’t say yes, but she also doesn’t outright decline. She can’t think of anything other than how, if she nodded her head, he’d give her everything she’d been wanting. Atsumu and Y/N stare at each other, moments pass and she’s sure that he’s going to take her stillness and silence as a no - but he just moves to grab her wine glass, moving it from her grasp to the table, shifting closer to her in the process. She holds her breath and he brings one of his hands towards her face, palming the side of her jaw in his warm hand, thumb rubbing at the plush skin of her lips. “Can I kiss ya? Maybe tha’s all ya need is a good kiss, yeah?” She nods, his hand moving to pluck at her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Got really nice lips, don’t you? ‘S so soft and wet, catch myself wanting to touch ‘em allot’' She inhales softly as he leans in, his hand sliding to the side of her neck and he litters soft kisses against her jaw. She whines softly when his mouth nears hers. “Shh, gonna kiss you in a minit.”

All Y/N can do is breath, mouth parted slightly as Atsumu drags his mouth over her face. His hand is so warm and big on her skin; he’s so close in her face that all she can do is inhale and smell him, making her dizzy with building warmth in her belly. They catch each other’s gaze, neither daring to blink away, before he tilts his head, pressing his mouth against hers softly at first. He doesn’t move to kiss her, just holds his lips over hers for a moment, as if giving her time to back away if she wants to; but when she doesn’t, he hums and pulls her head towards his more, lips moving in tandem. His hand slides from her cheek, worming its way towards the nape of her neck as he pulls her to him - he wastes no time in deepening the kiss, licking into her mouth with fervor. And she lets him, moving into his lap as she relishes in the feeling of his tongue lazily swirling with her own; the new found position allows him to drag his hand down her back soothingly, her own hands sliding around his neck and up into his hair.

She parts with a soft gasp, whether it be for air or out of surprise she can’t tell. He whines momentarily, before nosing his way down towards her neck, pressing butterfly-light kisses at the flesh. She’s wiggling in his arms, and he laughs, the air ticking the soft bend of her collarbone. “Fuck, you’ve been holdin out on me. Tha’ was good right? A good kiss for ya?” All Y/N can do is nod, sliding her hand towards his face in hopes of bringing his lips back to hers. She can feel the smirk on his mouth when she presses their mouths together again, and maybe after she’d bitch him out about it but right now all she wants is to be suffocated by him.

Moments pass, the air filled with soft pants in between kisses and thickening arousal. Atsumu cards his fingers in her hair gently, mouth still against hers, free hand sneaking around Y/N’s front. She whines softly, to which he shushes her softly. “Shh you’re okay… just wanna feel ya.” He soothes her over by indulging her in soft kisses against her lips, hand pushing up the front of her ratty t-shirt, snaking his hand past the waistband of her shorts into the confines of her (now too tight) underwear. Y/N shudders when he strokes lightly over her clit, before surpassing it completely and going to where a wet spot had been developing on the fabric. Plucking the damp cotton out of the way and letting the tips of two fingers rub over her weeping hole, “Oh.. this for me?”

A small noise crawls out of her throat, a mix between a moan, a whine, and surprise. “Don’t, ‘tsumu. It’s embarrassing..”

“Shh don’t be embarrassed. Just feels good to know I make ya feel good, baby.” Atsumu pulls his fingers from her, smiling when she whines at the loss of contact. But he’s able to soother her before she can get too fussy; one moment Y/N is on top of him, struggling to not rock against his thigh and relieve some of the pressure building up inside of her, the next Atsumu has her flipped over so her back, her body caged between the back of the sofa and his arms. A hand on either side of her head as he bends in, sweeps his tongue at a strip of salty skin just beneath her jaw. He hastily shoves up the shirt she’s wearing, revealing more of her and letting his hands graze over her breasts lightly at first before kneading them. She feels lightheaded while his mouth works on her throat, biting and sucking a bruise at the base of it that makes her gulp. Parting from the skin with a gentle kiss and a small, whispered comment of, “Taste so good, so soft and sweet. Been holding out on me, hmm?”

For the first time ever, Y/N has Atsumu in her arms and has no need to push him away - no, instead she’s holding onto him as if she’d die if he slipped away from her, her hands gripping his broad shoulders before sliding up into his hair as he makes his way down her body. He’s practically praising her - pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin as he moves downwards, fingers making quick work of tugging her bottoms off, helping her kick out of them quickly and clumsily. She knows that Atsumu is not a patient man, but this is a whole other level of impatience. He’s pushing her thighs open, cold fingers squeezing at the soft flesh of her thighs as he scoots down to be at eye-level with the barest part of her, making sure her calves are hooked over his shoulders. Y/N can’t remember a time when she’s ever been in a more vulnerable position, but instead of shying away like her instincts would have her, she finds herself moving to better accommodate the man between her legs. Her eyes catch his caramel colored ones and her breath catches in her throat; he’s staring at her, enamored by her.

“Such a pretty little thing aren’t ya?” he murmurs, lips forming a gentle kiss on her inner thigh but before she can retort he gives one long, gentle swipe of his tongue directly up the middle of her folds. She gasps, face turned away from him and thighs threatening to close, but he shifts his hand to stop her, holding her in place. “Aht… don’t get shy now, lemme get a taste.”

It’s too much when he dives back in, skilled mouth a vicious match for his insatiable need to please. As he strokes his soft, wet tongue deeper and deeper between her slippery folds that part around him willingly. Y/N’s sure she’s moments away from swearing her undying fealty to whatever higher being put this on her plate for today. Puckering his lips around her clit after stopping just before sucking on her until it was swollen and even greedier for his attention. Dipping his tongue inside of her hole, humming appreciatively against her and only feeding into the whimpering sounds filtering out of her mouth.

Embarrassingly, Y/N feels that she’s nearing her end - despite the shame of admitting that it's coming too fast, she feels the need to tell him anyway. “Hmph… g’na cum,” she chokes out, hoping that he heard her because all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears. Every sense is suffocated by Atsumu’s presence, and she’s shameless as she lets every pant slip past her lips, feeding into Atsumu’s ego. “‘m so close, I need it. Need you to – to keep going please, ‘Tsumu”

And he does, gets her to the edge of her high before sliding his mouth away from her. The whine that falls past her lips is deafening, eyes opening and seeing that he’s just nuzzling her thigh, lips making light work at marking the soft flesh. “No, no you said… said you’d help.. Please I’m-” she’s hiccuping, tripping over her words numbly as she tries tugging his head back to where she’s most desperate for him.

He hums at her softly, almost patronizingly, as he places a kiss to the skin closest to his mouth. “Don’t cry pretty girl.. Won’t leave you hanging, ‘ts so warm down ‘ere… might have to stay forever, tha’ okay?” He is disgusting, filthy, so sinfully good. And true to his word, he goes back in without another word, only a small smile and his own hum that vibrates through her lower half. When he takes her clit back between his lips, it’s all she needs. Every tense muscle finally seizing to his maximum strain; it’s like she was a string that’d been stretched too far and finally frayed in the middle, snapping. She can hear her heartbeat thumping like a bass in her ears, can feel the way she’s twitching under Atsumu’s relentless movements, and it drowns out her own noises that she’s making.

Moments later, all that can be heard is her bated breathing, head completely empty and eyes heavy, flickering and fluttering with just how light she feels. Atsumu kisses his way back up to be face-to-face with her, making sure to peck gently at the marks he’d littered her skin with. His face is buried in the base of her throat, their arms tangled around each other lazily - Y/N feels too sleepy to protest the way that he’s pressing all his weight onto her; but isn’t too tired to realize that he’s hard when her hips wiggle to accommodate him between her legs, maybe has been the entire time, which confuses her slightly. Why would he be hard over her? She understands her total arousal over him since she bitched him into submission, but him? If anything, him being hard right now just proves, to Y/N at least, that maybe he would get it up with anything. But what if it is for you, her heart wonders briefly.

“‘Tsumu… are you-?”

“Shh, ‘ts alright. Let's get you to bed.” And he moves to slide off her, moving to guide the two of them to her bed, which was a feat on its own considering Y/N’s legs feel like jelly. All he can do is smile at her, taking in her relaxed face and mused hair. He settles her into bed, sliding up next to her and pulling her onto his chest, lips pressed into the crown of her head. Before Y/N can even think of a way to say thank you, she feels sleep taking over, choosing instead to just indulge (for once) in the pseudo-domestic situation she’s in tonight.

The following morning, Y/N almost doesn’t want to wake up, isn’t ready to come to terms with whatever happened yesterday. Long gone is the lusty drunkenness from last night, but Atsumu...Atsumu is still fully there, lips pursed and arms shoved under the pillow - Y/N holds back the urge to trace her fingers along the lines of his arm. She russells around, hoping that sleep takes over her again so she can justify waking up wrapped around Atsumu - her attempts are futile though when she feels a firm squeeze at her side, cold fingers making her jump slightly.

“Wha’s wrong?”

She mumbles a barely coherent “nothing,” to which Atsumu just hums, snaking his arm over Y/N’s middle and pulling her towards him, chest to chest with his breath fanning over her face. She swears she could die a happy person now. Wants to have every morning be like this, him in her too small bed, squishing themselves together for warmth, just the sheer proximity is enough, she muses to herself. Apparently, Y/N is thinking just a little too loud this morning for Atsumu’s liking because he sighs softly, asking if she’s sure nothing is wrong.

“Mm ‘m fine. Jus’ tryna get comfortable, go back to sleep.”

“Can’t now, all yer wiggling woke me up” And before she can even retort, he shifts slightly, practically forcing his groin on her thigh, to which she squeaks softly. “Jus go back to sleep… too early for breakfast.”

“Bu- Tsumu.. Lemme..” she starts, shyly. She did have this inherent need to pay him back for what happened, and she can only equate his favor with something equally as...pleasurable?...fulfilling? She can’t find the right word but the most equal compensation for sex has to be more sex, right? The sleep in her bones is fully gone now, her hands sliding down his sides slowly, tentatively. “Please...wanna jus’-”

“Don’t have to, can just go to the rest- sh-shit.” He starts, his own hand reaching to stop hers but his movements stutter when she palms at his crotch, giving his bulge a full on grope. She shushes him softly, lips moving to peck his jaw softly as she snakes her hands past the tight confines of his underwear; and though she can’t see much of what is going on she can feel how thick Atsumu is. His hands have shifted slightly, one arm resting behind her and the other cupping her face, their lips tangled in kisses that feel too sweet and far from platonic.

Moments pass, and it's apparent that Y/N is moving much too slowly for Atsumu, him bucking into her hand and his hips rolling in uncalculated and sloppy movements. He whines softly when she pulls her lips off his, both softly gasping for air, but she shushes him, using the most minimal amount of strength to push him onto his back and settles between his massive thighs. By this point, once fully exposed in front of her, he's so hard that the foreskin is already drawn away from the head, tip slick and wet with precum. She’s gentle, wanting to preserve the quietness that comes with waking up at eight in the morning, as she presses a few open mouth kisses at the patch of hair below his belly button.

And it’s all over from here. Y/N ducked herself down, licking from the dip of his balls to his drippy head in one broad swipe. Y/N shudders softly at the whimper she’s able to pull out of the man above her, thinking that it’s probably the best noise she’d ever elicited from a man. Atsumu runs his fingers through her hair as she slides his head into her mouth, fingers deftly scraping at her scalp as she begins sucking. She sucks him like she wants to – like this was the most perfect way to spend every morning, with her blonde, dumb, stupid best friend stuffing her mouth. Both are still hazy with sleep, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from pulling him in deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she begins bobbing her head and moving her hand in tandem to stroke at what can’t fit in her mouth.

His fingers start to tangle in her hair rather than comb through it, his moans filling the room, punctuated with little encouragements that she hums at around him, like, “Tha’s it, there’s my good girl,” and through shaky laughs, “M'gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” Eventually, Y/N knows that he must be near his peak, but she pauses, eyes locking with his caramel colored ones, as she pulls her mouth away to let his length just rest on her tongue.

“Fuck yer pretty… so good aren’t ya?” He whisper-groans at her, gripping her hair a little harder when she tilts her head to the side, allow him to shallowly fuck himself between her lips, his thumb tracing the bulge his dick made in her cheek. “Need'a pull off if y'don’t wanna taste, baby… gettin so- fuck- so close.” He gives her hair a slight tug, like he might actually pull her off himself, but she doesn’t allow him; she just shifts her mouth, making light work of wrapping her lips around his tip, sucking greedily with and humming in protest around him. And it’s that that sends him over, twitching in her mouth as he sputters off shaky profanities before she feels shot after shot of white ropes hitting her tongue. Y/N can’t help but stare at him above her, relishing in the fact that this morning she gets to see him shake and shudder because of her.

Y/N pops off him gently, drawing back and humming at the lingering salty taste he’s left on her tongue. She graces the skin of his heaving abdomen with soft, fluttering kisses as she tucks him back into his underwear, before she crawls up his body, legs swinging to straddle his narrow hips. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes, neck red and he seems almost bashful underneath her (which makes Y/N’s heart swell with adoration at just how him he is). She wiggles softly, folding her hands on his chest and laying her chin on them, waiting for him to say something to her. She blows a laugh through her nose when he finally looks down at her, eyes glimmering and lips pulled in the shyest smile she thinks she’s ever seen on him.

“You… yer good. Too good… just wow.”

---

Suffice to say lots has happened in the week following the pair quite literally eating their hearts out.

Firstly, Atsumu spent nearly every evening at her apartment that week. He waited every single day outside of her office building - her coworkers have taken to telling her how lucky she is that she has a man waiting for her with this whipped look on her face, but she swears up and down (with warm cheeks) that it's not like that. They eat dinner, alternating between picking up something on the way or cooking together - and by cooking, just picture Atsumu cutting vegetables in uneven chunks while Y/N scolds him for not adding enough water to the rice cooker. Normally this could happen: it's not super rare that they visit each other during the week if it's convenient - what is definitely not in the norm is the fact that Atsumu has buried himself between Y/N’s thighs thrice this week. It starts when Y/N looks too stressed on Tuesday evening, that Atsumu pulls her legs over his lap in an attempt to “massage some of the stress away,” which only leads to him manhandling her onto her back, promising to give her something else to cry about besides work.

Secondly, Osamu thought it would be best to alert Y/N that Atsumu had a very awkward conversation with a woman during lunch on Thursday - it was secretly his way of asking her to ask Atsumu what happened because both Y/N and Osamu were terrible gossips who feed off each other. When Y/N asked though, all Atsumu said was that the whole conversation didn’t matter, that the woman (who Y/N learned was actually Michimiya) wanted more than Atsumu was able to give to her. That their lives weren’t in sync or whatever, that they’d eventually manage to be co-workers at best. To say that Y/N wasn’t elated at the news would be a bold-faced lie.

Y/N feels on cloud nine, feels like she doesn’t even need to have a conversation with Atsumu about what their situation is currently. She gets to reap all the benefits of a relationship now, she’s physically taken care of and emotionally spoiled. Only thing she’s actually missing is the title but what's in a word, right?Atsumu wasn’t a natural flirt, always hid compliments behind a harsh delivery - but lately he’s taken to drowning Y/N in compliments, even the corny ones. Y/N expected a post-nut “god yer pretty,” but what occasionally caught her off was when he would open the door for her (normal) and say that “a pretty gal like you should never hafta touch a handle” (not normal). Subconsciously, Y/N feels like he’s only trying to compliment his way into her pants, but she chooses to ignore the way he coos at “just how gorgeous her eyes are” when he makes eye contact with her during a midnight snack.

On the second Thursday following the start of the Y/N-Astumu situationship, Y/N has no choice really other than to ask Atsumu what’s going on with them. They’re at the grocery store by his place (he’d convinced her to take the following day off work and spend the night with him), everything is more than normal when the pair’s conversation gets interrupted by a literal model-esque person, touching Atsumu’s shoulder. Y/N tries to sneak her hand from his arm, but he grasps her hand before she can get too far, looking at the stranger with a less-than-friendly expression.

“Oh Miya! I’m a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo with me?” He indulges his fan, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, even as she steps out of the camera’s focus. The stranger parts with a grateful smile to both Atsumu and Y/N, which feels unnecessary, but Y/N returns anyway. The friends continue their shopping trip before making the trek to Atsumu’s apartment building. Y/N is quiet, in her head about the whole fan interaction that lasted a total of five minutes, but Atsumu says nothing - even stays quiet until the pair are up in his apartment.

“Everything okay? Not bored of me are ya?”

She smiles weakly at him, settling to rest against his kitchen counter. “It’s just… I- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, hand waving in front of her as if trying to shoo away the negative cloud above her head. But Atsumu quickly grabs her hand, pulling her into the space between his arms.

“It’s not stupid if ‘s how yer feeling.. What’s up?”

“Okay…” She starts, pushing away from his chest to give herself some literal and mental space. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back at the opposite counter to Y/N, who's mirroring his stance except her head is thrown back, eyes searching his ceiling for the right words to come next. “Are you always like… this… with the girls who give you head?” When she looks at him, his head is tilted to the left in confusion, making her huff anxiously. “Okaaay.. you’ve complimented me more in the past three weeks than any other person has in my entire life… is that normal for you to do with the girls hooking up with you or am I the exception? It’s not a big deal.. It’s just that you -”

“I compliment you because you deserve to be complimented, sweetheart… but if it makes you uncomfortable then I can stop.” He cuts in, before he uncrosses his arms, palms gripping at the counter behind him. “As for the whole hooking up part… is that what you want this to be? ‘Cos we can do that, up to you Y/N, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give -”

“But why? Until three weeks ago I was under the impression that I wasn’t your ‘type’ or whatever so why now are you suddenly on board with taking whatever I give you?”

He laughs, and Y/N wants to cry. Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? Y/N is good at feeling her feelings, but has a hard time clearly expressing those feelings into words.

“Don’t laugh a-”

“Who told you what my type was? If it was ‘Samu or Omi I swear I’ll -”

“You did. You said I wasn’t your type.” He balks, eyes wide and riddled with trying to think about when he said it. “It was forever ago, but you said it. You came back from Germany, I picked you up and ‘Samu had called while I went to the restroom and well.. I overheard you say-”

“Yer an idiot, made an assumption before ya knew the whole truth, baby. I was talking about this photographer that I was kinda seein’ at the time. M’brother asked why if she’d get mad that I chose to see you fresh off the plane instead of her, said it didn’t matter because she wasn’t my type.”

Y/N wishes that the floor of his ridiculously priced apartment would swallow her whole, or that if she pushed the right buttons on his fancy microwave she’d be able to rewind life to five minutes ago when she decided to start this conversation. Frankly, she feels silly and like she shouldn’t say anything else - she knows that her words conveyed a little bit of insecurity that she’s sure Atsumu doesn’t want to have to deal with.

A beat passes before both Y/N and Atsumu open their mouths, but he’s able to get out the words first. “You really thought that you weren’t my type?” Fuck his smug little desbelieving smile.

“Don’t gimme that look - you’re usually spotted around the globe with gorgeous people… ‘s it really wrong of me to assume that I wasn’t your type? Besides,” she starts, arms crossed around her middle while Atsumu takes a tentative step to close the gap between them. “It's not that it matters now since, y’know I know that it's not true.. Just hurt my feelings at the time and well…”

“You were supposed to be the smart one between us, got the college degree ‘n everythin.” He teases, arms reaching to rest on her waist. “For someone so smart you really missed all the signs huh? Why do you think I stepped in every time some guy tried to talk t’ya? Why d’ya think that I tried to take up all your weekend time, don’t get me wrong I love spendin’ time with ya but also didn’t wanna see you goin out with any guys you’d met when I wasn’t around.” By this point he’s got her chin in his hand, ducking his head slightly to make her look at him fully. “And why the hell would I eat you out at every possible opportunity once I’ve been given the okay? Just because I get thrown it all the time by others doesn’t mean that I eat out every -”

“Alright, alright. You can shut up now. I get it, I’m dumb. I just didn’t think -”

“Oh you got tha’ right - didn’t think at all did ya?” She groans, throwing her head back. She’ll never be able to get the image of his smug face out of her head, never going to be able to live down how for once in their years long friendship Atsumu was smarter than her. All he can do though is laugh, pulling her face back down to his and giving her forehead a soft kiss, making her stomach erupt with flutters.

“If you tell anyone about this conversation, I swear to god Miya I’ll-”

“Shh it’s always gotta be a threat with you huh? Why can’t you just admit that you were stupid for once?”

“Not happening.”

“Not even if it means you’re stupidly in like with me”

“No, because I’m not stupidly in like with you… I just adore your stupid self more than I’d ever admit in front of anyone else.”

He laughs, bumping his nose against her with a laugh before kissing her softly. Everything is great, life is great. Y/N loves Atsumu and Atsumu loves her, and she isn’t some sad, movie cliché any longer. She’s got this gorgeous guy who practically worships her, so freely giving himself to her. He pulls away from kissing her for a second, taking a moment to appreciate the way that her eyes are closed happily.

“Just so y’know… I adore you too.” Kiss. “But you are never allowed to call me stupid again… from now on I’m the smart one in this relationship.”

A/N pt2: and so that’s it hehe. thank you sm for reading I hope you enjoyed it. any little comments you have in the tags would be nice to read or yeah. this is my side blog so like hgjdgsh if I respond to you it’s gonna be from my main haha

#okay now I can type in the tags but basically I’m actually v proud of this not so little fic and so I just sjdjdjdj #if you’re reading the tags ily #tysm for reading my fic I appreciate u!! <3 #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x female reader #miya atsumu smut #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya smut

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

F.W.B. - Rafe Cameron

Request: Can you do 93 and 118 from your prompt list with Rafe or JJ please, you can decide who. That's if your taking requests, if not then just ignore this.

A/N: Sorry I’m the worst and this took so long to post! Also I wrote it for Rafe...trying out something a little different with my writing.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The first time you slept with Rafe it happened at a party. You weren’t drunk but you definitely weren’t sober either and he looked good, even if boys in polos weren’t your thing. Neither of you were in a place where you wanted a relationship, you weren’t ready to carve out space in your life for someone who might not be permanent and Rafe wasn’t feeling that itch to commit either. So it seemed reasonable, that a hazy sort of friends with benefits would form, a made-up contract between the two of you. 

The first and most obvious rule was that you weren’t exclusive. Rafe was happy to put it on the list that you buried in notes on your phone, exclusivity was not required. You guys were free to hook up with other people. 

“That’s fine with me, there was a guy at Topper’s party last week that was kinda hot,” you replied. Sprawled across his bed, head hanging over one side and feet dangling off the other, as you listened to him rattling off supposed ‘rules’. 

That rule was nice in theory but it was no secret that from the moment you and Rafe started sleeping together you stopped hooking up with anyone else. At first it was just subtle signals to each other at parties or texts when you were bored. 

-are you busy?-

-I’ll come to yours-

At first it was all you texted about. But somewhere along the way it changed. You didn’t play cat and mouse at parties or pretend you were thinking about going home with someone else. You started showing up together and hanging close to each other and so help anyone who tried to win either yours or Rafe’s attention. He’d send you texts in the morning and the conversation would last well into the night, various FaceTime calls peppered in throughout the day. 

“I read the directions, I know what I’m doing.”

“You say that but I’m telling you right now I’m not eating those...they look like lumps of coal.” Rafe laughed, leaning in close to the camera as if he’d be able to see the cookies you were in the process of baking. 

“They do not-“ you turned away from your phone as the door opened behind you, “Mom! Come here!” 

“What?”

“Tell Rafe these cookies don’t look like lumps of coal!” You said, a weak glare as you met his eyes through the screen. 

“Are these the cookies?” Your mom asked. Rafe didn’t miss the skeptical Look she gave as she inspected the double chocolate chip cookies you’d spent the last hour making.

“Told you!”

“You guys suck!” You whined, “I’m never baking again.” 

Rafe chalked all these little moments up to the actual ‘friends’ part of friends with benefits but you both knew differently. You were wading out into deep water, tempting feelings by getting closer to each other 

The second rule was yours and you broke it pretty regularly. Don’t bring your ‘friend with benefits’ around your family. It was a rule for obvious reasons. The moment the two of you started spending time with each other’s families was the moment you were in too deep. But that didn’t stop you from going to his house to brave Rose’s implemented Sunday Night Dinners or stop him from showing up at your grandmother’s 80th birthday with you, present in hand as if he was a member of the family already.

You both knew that bringing the other around was playing with fire. Because suddenly you were helping Wheezie with her homework and shopping on the mainland with Sarah. It didn’t end at his house either, every time he came around your mom was asking him to stay for dinner, getting him to replace the water on the water cooler because she claimed she “couldn’t do it”.

“My family thinks we’re dating.” You mentioned once, towards the end of your deal, though at the time you didn’t realize that this statement would turn out to be the catalyst that ended one thing and started another.

“Why?”

You rolled your eyes and propped yourself up on your side so you could actually take a look at Rafe. Both of you were laying in his bed, naked, post sex, talking about whatever came to mind. It would be classified as cuddling if you really had to label it but neither of you wanted to because ‘no cuddling’ was rule number three. Rafe had been clear, after sex you both got dressed. You could hang out but the spending time together and the sex had to be separate events.

“Well let’s see there was last week when you showed up to my house even though I was out and ended up hanging out with my mom while she made dinner. Or the week before when Wheezie, Sarah, and I had a sleepover at my house. Or, you know, generally showing up at every holiday in the last year.” You pointed out. None of those things bothered you, honestly, you’d only mentioned it in hopes that his response would give you some sort of hint about where he stood with you.

Instead he seemed to be more interested in where the blanket had fallen away, his eyes straying from your face to your chest. When you noticed you his expression you took some advantage of it, shifting in bed so that you were straddling him. Rafe’s hands immediately going your hips, eyes closing as you rocked back against him just enough to elicit a moan. You’d been sleeping together, exclusively, for over a year, and in that time you had learned all his little quirks. He liked having some dominance over you in bed but you knew it was just a farce and you were always the one in control. A surprising trait, considering the type of person he seemed to be.

“So?” You asked, peppering kisses along his jaw and neck. Soft, tan skin that smelled like the slightest hint of a coconut because he’d showered earlier at your place.

“So?” He repeated the word and it sounded a little dazed, as if he was only half aware of the conversation. You were fairly certain you could get him to do anything you wanted just by posing a question to him when he was in this state.

“No input on my family thinking we’re dating?”

“Who cares.”

The fourth rule was one of convenience. It was also the most obvious of the rules: if one of you started to catch feelings the whole thing would be called off. That one was broken long before either of you realized it. Your ‘friends with benefits’ tryst with Rafe should’ve never begun in the first place if you were truly going to follow the most sacred rule of hooking up. It wasn’t supposed to be serious. Ever.

And maybe you both could’ve continued living in the bubble of ‘just friends who fuck on occasion’ if it wasn’t for some touron at a party asking you on a date. Rafe had skipped the party for a week in the bahamas with his family and you had been bored out of your mind, entertained only by Topper and Kelce, who both ditched you when they found people they were interested in.

Leaving you approachable and approached was what you got. By some touron. Cute enough, he asked you on a date. It wasn’t like he was expecting a relationship, he was heading home in three days, but a date wasn’t a relationship, it was just a date. To a nice resturant on the Eight and you agreed cause why not?

Rafe was why not and he was laying on your bed, watching you get dressed. He’d come over for the same reason he always did. Sex, to hang out, to get away from Ward. Only to discover that while he was gone you had agreed to a date.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not shipping off to war Rafe, it’s one date.” You shrugged, walking out of your bathroom in a tight skirt/bralette co-ord. “What about this?” It was white and looked great on you and you never got the chance to wear it because you never went on dates.

“Can we just stay home so I can fuck your brains out?”

You rolled your eyes at him, laying horizontally across your bed on his back, head dangling off the side. He sounded and looked like a little kid who wasn’t getting their way and honestly, he was spoiled. Hell, he had gotten to have you for a year and a half with no one else ever winning your attention long enough for a date. Now all the sudden it was like someone was taking something of his, and Rafe was not the type who liked to share.

“Does the outfit look good or not?” You asked, frustrated.

“Yeah, you look gorgeous, now don’t go.”

“I haven’t been on a date in ages Rafe, I just wanna go to a nice restaurant and have dinner and look cute and walk around the beach-”

“So, we can do that.” Rafe said, sitting up. He’d come all the way over here last minute after you declined going to his for your date. His usually slicked back hair hung like fringe and he had to brush it out of his eyes when he sat up. You’d be lying if you said that just seeing him slightly unkempt wasn’t a turn on. Rafe, without all the rich boy necessities, was arguably your favorite.

“You’re going to take me on a date?” You asked, reappearing in the door frame of the bathroom, “we don’t do dates Rafe, remember?”

“Screw that.”

“What?”

“Screw friends with benefits. You want to go on a date? I’ll take you on a date. Wherever you wanna go. We can go to a fancy restaurant, take out Druthers, whatever.” He got off the bed, coming over to you.

“Don’t make me promises you don’t wanna keep,” you said, backing up. When you hit the counter he only grinned, trapping you in. Rafe could’ve sent a text telling you not to go and you probably wouldn’t have, all this was just an added bonus in your mind. And maybe some answers, finally.

“Oh trust me, I want to keep them.” He replied, reaching passed you and grabbing your phone off the counter.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, watching as he unlocked your phone and opened up your messages, finding the texts about the date.

“This him?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “Rafe what’re you doing?”

He held the phone to his ear and when you started to question him again, he put his hand over your mouth. “I’m on the phone.” He waited a beat for your date to answer before telling him that you wouldn’t be showing up tonight, smiling as your eyes went wide. “Her boyfriend’s home and he gets a little territorial.”

taglist: @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming@chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables@damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @balletandyuzu @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee@crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar@lemur46 @haute-shawn

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lilyclawthorne · 3 years

Text

Escaping Expulsion Thoughts (once again very stream of conscious-like while i rewatched the episode so there’s a bunch of stuff here)

i fucking knew odalia was gonna be an oracle, i knew and i hate that for her family. i’m not sure if this necklace thing is specifically a form of oracle magic or not but im assuming it is, and either way the second i saw it happen that made my stomach twist. the fact that she just keeps this direct line to her daughter at all times feels so disturbing

so, i get that the joke with glyph lessons here is that eda and lilith are probably acting the exact same way they did when they were younger, but it does also feel a little odd for me. in my post for episode 1 i talked about how it felt like lilith probably missed the structure of the coven, and maybe even having an authority figure, and it does concern me a bit that it could be projected on to luz here.

also, i saw someone mention that they thought lilith could be regressing a bit, which is interesting seeing as she’s been in the coven since basically being a child and now that she’s out, she could be going backwards because that was probably the last time she had a personality of her own instead of one that was carefully crafted to be socially acceptable for others. and to be fair, the few moments in season 1 when we see glimpses into the true lilith, she is pretty childish.

anyways lilith has such pretty handwriting i love it

gus!! witch puberty!! do not worry buddy eda will get your name eventually. probably.

amity went out and murdered those fairies for luz didn’t she

i need to know why the heck bump has no choice in the matter of the expulsion. typically a pta (or pca in this case) wouldn’t have power that much stronger than the principa?? so i wonder if the blights have something over bump, or if its even just something such as donation money they’d withdraw

odalia blight you gaslighting bitch “I’m appalled you’re not in class right now what are you thinking” YOU MADE HER COME HERE

PLEASE i know gus and willow are sad here but the whole “live off the land” thing and “water you one last time, with my tears” are so fucking funny ok

GO LUZ, YOU TELL OFF ODALIA

i feel like alador doesn’t really care what’s going on and just wants to be back home making his abomination inventions, also he seems to have an affinity for different creatures as well which is an interesting detail

i love that willow stated they would get back in on their own right in front of alador and odalia. these people fucked up her friendship and caused her a lot of trouble that she shouldn’t have had to deal with so i love that she’s unafraid to speak like that in front of them

between the first & second episode, and some of the seasons trailer, it seems like Lilith may have an affinity for ice magic? which is interesting seeing as eda was always a fan of her “spicy toss” aka some fire magic. interesting to see the two of them as fire & ice basically

i LOVE how much bump loves luz, willow, and gus. it’s kinda really sweet, but again it feels so concerning that he had no choice in the matter. makes me think he’s more likely to eventually rebel against the standards that have been in place for so long at some point. (also abominations coven for bump!! interesting!! i appreciate seeing the coven marks included on the adults so far)

what is it with these kids and being dragged off by their hoods in this episode

love that the blights address includes “right arm”, also i took a quick look up of the word “bruegal” which is boulevard they live on, and it’s probably just a coincidence but the first google result was actually for a european think tank that specializes in economics

yknow i actually have wondered about layering glyphs on top of each other and making a super glyph the way eda did, so good to know that would NOT work out

luz you’re really gonna give the blights their own flowers??????

it goes by so fast but please take a moment to take in and appreciate the design of that blight entry room/living room-esque area and it’s combination of abomination and oracle decor. also the blight family portrait.

i could talk about alador and odalia and their relationship dynamic here, when luz is meeting with them, but i think it’s best to save for the end, but i will say i don’t think it’s just odalia controlling everything (though she does control a lot) and alador just suffering and being silent.

the more i stare at odalia’s hair the more i feel like she has an odd receding hairline

love that the abomination kept the cat shape luz gave it and that amity knew immediately from that

WILLOW’S DADS!!! I LOVE THEM! I love how much they want their daughter to have a great education even if they have to be the ones to do it! (even if it could come across as a little intense) Although, the fact that they’re prepared to teach plant magic to her makes me question why they put her in abominations once again. (wish we could’ve gotten a glimpse of their coven marks!)

odalia is definitely the one who handles more of the parenting and alador is more distant. at least that’s what i get based on the twins specifying to amity not to tell their mom specifically

absolutely insane that odalia is just letting the abomiton destroy the whole place to kill a child

“stay away from my luz!” oh my god,ohmy GOD

i like how lilith can’t tell if these are normal noises or distress ones. really sums up life in the owl house. also lilith? kicking doors in?? this combined with “I AM A WITCH, UNHINGED” tells me she’ll be as chaotic as the rest of the owl house in no time and i am here for it.

the music when amity jumps in to protect luz is absolutely killing it here i need a soundtrack now

YES AMITY DESTROY THE NECKLACE (and oh god please don’t let odalia give you something even harder to remove or destroy)

Luz is blushing!! The feelings are starting to be returned!!!

“Luz, Willow, and Gus are my friends!” love it. love the open declaration. love that she’s telling her mother off. love that i have something to check off my bingo board already.

okay, i know a lot of people have already suggested that alador is smiling here because he can tell luz and amity like each other, but i’m pretty sure it’s only because he’s noticing how much amity’s magic has grown and improved

small detail but i love the smoke from the units order sign filling the background while odalia is fuming herself

oh? alador has had the ability to tell odalia off and successfully calm her down this whole time? and chose not to use it till now? yeah he sucks too. he very clearly has a plan for amity as much as odalia does as well, but he’s much better at seeing the long-term goal

“the glyph combo, copyright me, lilith” im screaming, lilith you DORK

ok i really wish eda or lilith asked where luz had been. i’d kill for these sisters to go off about how much they hated the alador and odalia in school, as well as threaten to hurt them for hurting luz.

the statue lilith made and her reaction to the gold star she received re-emphasizes my concern about her need for approval and for an authority figure. (ok but her noise at the gold star WAS very cute tho)

alright lets get down to business on the blight parents. so far i definitely do not view their relationship as being one-sided with odalia in control. honestly, i think they do have a sense of mutual respect for the other. to me it seems like all alador really wants to do is focus on his work and nothing else, and odalia seems not only more than happy to let him do so, but willing to take care of everything else the company needs, and he seems fine with that and going along with whatever because he only has to do his part. and clearly his abomination tech combined with her showmanship/advertising (and honestly probably some oracle magic) has clearly made them successful.

so what im saying is that i think their power in their relationship is actually pretty balanced, if it looks otherwise that’s just because that’s how they best function together, with odalia being more forward and alador being more distant, and therefore they’re very much both to blame for shitty parenting.

also I know some people have joked about the blight family name coming from odalia (which is also a dumb joke like why is it funny if the family name comes from the woman and not the man) but anyways I definitely do think blight is aladors family name and odalia married in simply because he takes the whole blights keep up their end of the deal thing much more seriously than odalia. probably something that’s been taught to him since he was a kid yknow, whereas she was super ready to ignore it when it inconvenienced her.

as for the very final scene with them and the golden guard, i had an interpretation of it that i saw, but it seems that everyone else ive see react to it so far saw something different than me so maybe i’m just plain wrong. but like, i have this feeling that maybe the blight parents, while they do want power, might not be as aligned with the emperor and his coven as we may think?? not saying they’re good people, just that there could be more going on here. but idk, i’ve seen no one else interpret it that way yet so i won’t go off about it unless either someone wants to know more of what i thought or if i ever actually make myself get around to making a separate post about it.

#the owl house #owl house #toh #escaping expulsion

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spockandawe · 4 years

Text

So this morning, I tripped across this excellent post about Xue Yang and classism, and it shook something loose in my head. Specifically, it got me thinking about the idea of Xue Yang taking revenge for ‘only’ losing a finger. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t say anything as directly dismissive as saying he only lost a finger, but I do think that is at least partially the way that Xue Yang takes the argument.

And I’ve thought a lot and said a lot of words about the way Xue Yang feels hurt and betrayed and frustrated as he tries to explain himself to someone, for once, and that person completely misses his point. And I’ve said words about how in the three years in Yi City, Xue Yang gets hooked on the quiet comfort of domesticity, even if he and Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing are still, objectively, poor. But I’d never thought about this particular angle of their last argument before now.

This is going to be long, I can tell, so let’s throw a spoiler cut in here

Now, I do think it’s important that Xiao Xingchen doesn’t say directly that it was only a finger. I think it would have been cruel of him to say that. But I also think that his upbringing and position in the world make him a bit… oblivious to the implications of Xue Yang’s story, and what he’s trying to communicate, and that leads to him saying some things that are more insensitive than he would have chosen to if he’d realized.

From a very early point, he knew that Xue Yang grew up without parents or money.

Unhurried, Xue Yang began, “Once upon a time, there was a child.”

“The child really liked eating sweet things. But because he had no parents or money, he could rarely eat them.”

And he was told how that child was exploited, and how hard he was beat up and used even before things reached the point where he lost a finger

[The huge, brawny man] took over the paper and looked at it, and he gave the child a slap so hard that his nose started bleeding. The man pulled the child’s hair and asked, ‘Who told you to take such a thing over?’”

[…]

“[seven-year-old Xue Yang] felt scared and pointed the direction. The man went to the liquor shop, carrying the child by pulling his hair.”

[…]

“The store was in a mess and the waiter was feeling quite cross. He slapped the child a few times, so hard that his ears were even buzzing, and chased him out the door. He crawled up and walked for a while.”

[…]

What do you think happened? Just a few more slaps and a few more kicks.”

(It’s interesting to me that he dodges even mentioning his hand being run over in this version of the story, but later goes into a lot of detail about his hand later with Xiao Xingchen, even though Xiao Xingchen has completely turned against him)

And, something that I hadn’t really noticed until I went to collect these quotes, is how Xiao Xingchen reacts to this story.

After Xiao XingChen tucked her, he walked a few steps, then asked, “What happened afterward?”

Xue Yang, “Guess. There was no afterward. You didn’t continue telling your story either, did you?”

Xiao XingChen, “No matter what happened afterward, since right now your life is fairly adequate, there’s no need for you to dwell too much on the past.”

That’s… a very high-minded approach to take, where I can see the good intentions, but I’m also kind of wincing at the accidental implications.

And then, to mix it up, let’s have some screencaps for the second half of the story, because these actors seriously knocked this scene out of the park

“The wheels of the cart milled over the child’s hand, one finger at a time. He was seven!”

And then another book quote, because it’s fascinating to me how directly he begs Xiao Xingchen to empathize with the child who was used so poorly and lost a finger in the process.

“Is it that, since the fingers weren’t yours, you guys were incapable of feeling the pain?! You guys didn’t know how horrifying screams sounded like out of your own mouths? Why didn’t you ask him why he decided to amuse himself with me without a single reason?!”

Only, right after he does this, Xiao Xingchen talks about how disproportionate Xue Yang’s revenge was. This really kills me, honestly, because this is the point where Xue Yang stops trying to appeal to him and explain himself, and takes a sharp turn towards losing control over his emotions instead.

Xiao XingChen spoke as though he couldn’t believe Xue Yang’s words, “Chang Ci’An broke one of your fingers in the past. If you sought revenge, you could’ve simply broken one of his fingers as well. If you really took the matter to heart, you could’ve broken two, or even all ten! Even if you had cut off an entire arm of his, things wouldn’t have been like this. Why did you have to kill his entire clan? Don’t tell me that a single finger of yours was equal to more than fifty human lives!”

I always just accepted that this was enough to hurt Xue Yang that much. But also… Xiao Xingchen knows that Xue Yang was a poor, parentless child, and he’s heard about how this child was callously exploited and mistreated by three separate adults. And there’s a couple class-related details in here that I want to touch on.

One, Xue Yang was again, a poor, parentless child, and I imagine he was living on the streets in a situation like that. Chang Ci’an broke (amputated) one of his fingers. And ran over the whole rest of his hand, which I have to imagine did other significant damage. Okay, so he wrecked this seven-year-old child’s hand. Now…. how much did this child have? What did he have besides his body? Did he even have a home to retreat to and recover? Because I have to imagine he didn’t. He didn’t have money for medical treatment, it’s not even clear if he knew anyone he could go to for basic medical help. Let’s not even talk about setting the bones in a shattered hand, did he even have access to anything to prevent infection? If he had any means of making a living (at age, again, seven), it would almost have had to be either begging or stealing. Having one ruined hand would have done awful things to this parentless child’s ability to survive. He made it through, clearly, but god.

And Xiao Xingchen isn’t approaching this from a position like most of our main characters, who grew up wealthy and privileged. He’s not approaching this in a way like how Jiang Cheng scolded Wei Wuxian for breaking his arm, because he had to get it all plastered up and spend weeks recovering, and that was super inconvenient. Xiao Xingchen was never wealthy, and he grew up as a feral mountain child with Baoshan Sanren. But that means that he wasn’t subject to the same social forces as a city child like Xue Yang. Even if he was injured as a child, even if he was badly injured, it wasn’t probably an act of cruelty or callousness on the part of an adult. And if he was injured, he might not have had access to formally trained doctors, but he had a teacher who was highly trained spiritually, and who would at least care for him.

In a way, I think that makes it all hurt… more for Xue Yang. Because Xiao Xingchen isn’t gentry, he never was affiliated with the great cultivation sects, and he and Xue Yang and A-Qing have been living together in a city in fairly poor circumstances for three years now. But Xiao Xingchen is an adult, and one who’s used to making his own way in the world. He has no personal understanding of what it’s like to be a powerless child in similar circumstances, without anyone. And in this moment, he’s not able to understand how awful and how serious this was for a child like Xue Yang to experience.

Like, compare and contrast. When the Wens are starting to move against Lotus Pier, there’s half a moment where Wei Wuxian makes his peace with losing a hand. He’s like ‘yeah, that sucks, but i’ll deal. i’ll just learn to fight with my other hand, whatever!’ But just imagine how serious that would have been before Jiang Fengmian found him. Without money, without a home, without anyone to care for you, without access to any real medical care, how dire an injury would that have been? Xue Yang might not have lost his hand altogether, but the cart ran over his whole hand, and hands are just full o’ bones. The consequences of that injury were significant.

And Xiao Xingchen’s initial reaction is ‘okay, so this wealthy cultivator broke your finger. why didn’t you just break his finger?’ and then he manages to escalate his way up to ‘idk, you could have even cut off his arm???’

In retrospect, it’s completely unsurprising to me that this is the moment where Xue Yang totally shuts down and starts asking why Xiao Xingchen even got involved, if he wasn’t capable of understanding.

“You shouldn’t have meddled in other people’s business. Right or wrong, kindness or hatred are not clearly distinguished, so how could an outsider possibly understand?”

“Your martial mentor, Baoshan Sanren, was indeed insightful. Why didn’t you listen to her and obediently cultivate in the mountain? If you couldn’t understand the human affairs and this world, then you shouldn’t have come!”

It makes me wonder what would have happened, if Xue Yang had leaned harder into what kind of suffering and hardship an injury like that meant for a street child, but considering how reluctant he was to share in the first place, I’m not exactly surprised he didn’t go there.

Incidentally, it’s interesting to me that when Xiao Xingchen calls Xue Yang ‘disgusting’, that’s when Xue Yang pivots into really trying to hurt him. I think it would hurt, coming from Xiao Xingchen, no matter what, but I have to wonder if he takes it extra hard in light of the way he’s just been trying to explain his history as a mistreated street child.

I’d been idly wondering if I was reading too far into this dynamic (not that that was going to stop me, but still, wondering :P), but this last addition to the conversation really caught my attention

“The people I hate the most are ones like you who say they’re righteous, who think they’re virtuous. Stupid, naive, dumb idiots like you who think the world’s better just because you did something good!”

And then I was like no, I’ve been right this whole time, haha :V

Xue Yang’s anger and hurt sense on a purely personal level, especially with the extra pain of trying to explain himself, for once, and Xiao Xingchen missing the point. But the extra frustration on behalf of his younger self makes so much additional sense.

Xue Yang likes Xiao Xingchen, he likes living with Xiao Xingchen, or he wouldn’t still be there three years after a chance encounter. It would be a whole other meta to source this claim, but it very much feels like there are things he admires about Xiao Xingchen, even if it’s kind of a condescending, indulgent fondness for his foolish, naive innocence instead of a straightforward admiration. Until it tips over here, and becomes personal.

And I think there were a lot of ways where he was prepared to disagree with Xiao Xingchen on a deep, fundamental level. They have very different values. But I don’t think he was prepared for Xiao Xingchen to be so oblivious to the class-based aspect of Xue Yang’s history. I don’t think Xiao Xingchen intended to be cruel, and I also think he had other significant things on his mind, but the seriousness of this incident doesn’t seem to occur to him. For someone with money, for someone with a skilled martial family, for even someone with a family, period, this would have been a traumatic experience, but one that could be dealt with. But then Xiao Xingchen equates the finger of this wealthy, purposefully cruel cultivator to the finger of a poor, parentless street child, and Xue Yang begins to lose control.

I already didn’t blame him for how upset he gets in this conversation, but now, even more than before, I find his reaction incredibly understandable. I mean, yes, their whole relationship is built on a foundation of sand, but he thought that he and Xiao Xingchen… supported each other, at least. They mattered to each other. And when Xiao Xingchen rejects him in the present, well, sure, that was going to happen if anyone was stupid enough to tell Xiao Xingchen the truth, that was understandable. But when Xiao Xingchen casually brushes aside the suffering of little innocent seven-year-old Xue Yang, that hurts Xue Yang more than he could have ever anticipated.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #xue yang #xiao xingchen #long post/#meta #xue yang: is it that since the fingers weren't yours you were incapable of feeling the pain?!#further speculation: xiao xingchen and lack of experience with *untreated* injuries #i really want to do something more with xue yang and bones that didn't heal right and an amputated finger that got infected #but heck if i know what

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

The Hard Things

Doing the right thing is never easy. Calum and Freya have a lot going for them. But what happens when fear gets in the way.

Inspired by I Follow Rivers by Marika Hackman and Starting Line by Luke Hemmings.

Calum X Black Female OC.

I cried once writing this. 7.4k words. Angst. Just angst and sarcasm.

@notinthesameguey is personally responsible for this. So blame her.

The Hard Things--Alternative Ending

Masterlist (on semi hiatus)

___________________________________

If Freya were going to be honest, she would admit that the second she saw Calum and his friends walk into the building she knew things were going to be bad. But Freya’s not being honest. Because being honest would almost include admitting just how too easy it was that day. How if those particular sequences of events hadn’t happened that specifically, then she wouldn’t be here--trying not to watch the quiver in his chin or the way he blinks rapidly. Then she wouldn’t be trying to forget the way his voice quakes.

But they did happen in that particular order. On a Thursday afternoon, he and his friends walked through the door. And here, here at this part, it’s easy to be honest.

Honestly, she is staring--way too hard and way too long at the rag-tag gaggle of people, but especially the man pulling up the rear of the group with a bright red hat snug on his head and covering his eyes, though not even the brim can hide the plump full lips pulled up into a tiny grin at something that must’ve been said. Because another guy, this one fairer-skinned in a hat too and a baggy t-shirt is also laughing. And of course, this group would enter just as Tre stepped away to check on the lanes already throwing. Vanessa wasn’t too far from the desk, but she was trying to help some parents figure out when they could schedule an event for someone’s birthday in the coming weeks.

This only leaves Freya as the only person available right now until rounds were completed to handle any new patrons. With a glance down to the clock on the computer, she could see that a couple more folks would be coming back to the front at any point. But clearly, that point wouldn’t come quick enough.

“Hi,” Freya greets flicking her gaze back up to the group with a quick smile. It’s the training. The fact that more than once she’d been told that customers liked her, especially the way she gave instructions but she needed to smile more. And if this weren’t the job keeping her afloat during her time of getting her degree, in addition to the administrative desk work she did at the university, she would leave here in a heartbeat. Possibly even in the blink of an eye. Whichever was faster.

“Hey! We were hoping you had a couple of lanes for us.”

Freya counts the head. “Just you seven?”

The guy that spoke initially turns the man in the back with the bright red hat on. “Still no word from her?”

The guy shrugs. “Don’t sweat it.” And Freya clings to every syllable. The almost sleepy drawl to his voice lined with a twinge of an accent. She can’t place it at first. But all of them share slight variations in it. The man in the red hat’s voice is low but smooth.

“Yeah just the seven of us,” a taller man pipes in.

“Okay, we can only have two people throwing on a lane at a time. I can put you on neighboring ones but we’ve got very strict rules about how many people can throw at a time.”

There’s a murmur amongst the group but eventually, it comes back to Freya that they’re okay with it. She runs down the safety rules, the forms they have to form out, and checks their IDs. She notices the man with the red hat’s name is Calum and though she knows she shouldn’t, she tries to commit it to memory. It won’t last long. She forgets names all too fast, but she never forgets a face.

“Nessa, watch the desk for me!” Freya calls out as she collects the cases with the axes and directs the party to their lanes. There’s a table for convening and a separate for the axes to rest. “Alright,” she starts with a quick whistle to settle the group. They get chatty but are quick to turn their attention back to her. “I don’t want to kick anyone out, but I will. So one last recap of the rules.”

When Freya finishes, she has the entire group repeat the rules back to her. When they return it to her all correctly, she smiles. “I appreciate y’all already. There are several range officers. They monitor carefully from several posts,” and she points them out as she speaks. “The shift rotates out in an hour. Meaning you’ll have to pause let the old shift go and let the new shift jump in. You’ll hear beeps to signal you to stop and start. If you have any other questions or concerns, you can find me at the front or a range officer. And we’ll be happy to help. Let’s keep all fingers, toes, extremities, and eyeballs intact and we can have a great day together. Enjoy.”

Usually, in her safety spills and best way to throw, Freya makes sure to keep eye contact with everyone in the group. However, she places a purposeful gaze on Calum when she tells them to enjoy. It’s reckless--she knows that. A little flirting hasn’t hurt her. Besides, she knows the moment she walks away, he’ll forget about her. They always did and she likes it like that. Flirty enough to keep good reviews, but never too flirty to insinuate anything more.

In her departure, Freya feels eyes on her, lasting longer than usual. And maybe she put more emphasis behind the swish of her hips and maybe she hoped it was Calum watching her walk away. But she doesn’t dare turn around. No matter how much she hopes in a fleeting second that maybe she had flirted just a little too much, Freya does not turn around to confirm or deny anything.

Back at the front desk, Freya takes a look at the cameras. Anyone at the front can see the lanes too--it’s for safety when you have live blades. Her gaze travels over each one though just out of the corner of her eye she catches the bright red hat. A few guys clasp him on the back but she can’t hear whatever else is said. The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. As people leave, few come in to replace them. The weekend will be busier--it always in. And Freya knows that soon too, once the afternoon becomes evening things will pick up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Everything okay?”

Freya barely sees who it is talking before they’re out of the door. Calum, phone pressed to his ear. She watches him for a beat as he paces near the front windows of the establishment. Her gaze doesn’t linger long before something on the floor catches her eye. She sees it’s black and square. When she gets closer it looks like a wallet. Clearly used and loved by the creases in it. She glances back up to Calum to see him still on the phone and peeks at the ID just to make sure who it belongs to.

With the blank stare of Calum’s ID photo looking up at her, Freya takes it back behind the desk. She’ll wait until he gets off the phone. A minute or two later, the door chimes again with Calum reentering.

“Hey, you dropped this,” she calls out, stepping out from the desk to hold out the wallet.

Calum pats his pockets and a split second panic causes his eyes to go wide. “Oh shit, thanks. I-I didn’t even realize it fell out of my pocket.”

“No worries. Just glad to get it back to you.” Calum takes it and slips it into his pocket, hands patting the outside to make doubly sure it’s secure. “You guys doing okay back there?

“Yeah, we’re good. Though I think somehow the girls are kicking our asses.”

Freya smiles with a small tuft of laughter escaping her. “It’s power and finesse. You can tear down brick buildings but if you don’t get the release right so it’s not twirling over the axis too many times, you’ll come up with nothing.”

“So says the expert?”

Her cheeks heat for a second at the raised eyebrow Calum gives her. Running her tongue over her teeth to hide the smile, Freya nods. “Yeah, I’ve thrown an axe or two in my lifetime. So I guess that counts as me being an expert.”

Calum laughs. Whether it’s at her or not, Freya’s not sure. But she likes the sound of it. “Tell me what else the expert suggests.”

A moment passes where Freya’s watching his gaze. Wondering if an anime glint will twinkle over his brown eyes because it’s a smooth delivery. Smoother than some of the stuff she’s done. There’s no way he’s fucking real.

Freya takes a half step back, slipping through the threshold that separates the front desk from the main lobby and the hallway to the back where the lanes are set up. “This expert suggests that you try her advice and impress all your friends.”

“More finesse. In the wrist, right?”

“In the wrist.”

A shy smile is shared between the two of them. It borders telling everything and saying nothing at all, borders on giving away on how much Calum might’ve considered concocting a ruse just to get her attention and how much he did backtrack on his plan because it was his sister calling and that shocked him. The smile borders on Freya twirling the Havana twists around her finger and her rolling her eyes at Calum’s thinly veiled attempts at flirting.

Both of them are saved by the front door chiming and Freya gives a nod to Calum before turning her attention to the person now entering. But Calum watches the way she leans into the counter and smiles down at the small child standing next to their parent. “Oh my god, you’re getting so big,” Freya comments and then walks back around to settle next to them.

“No, Fre, I’m not bigger dan yesterday,” the kid responds.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Your dad will be out in just a second. Shift change had to wait for one more person. Anything cool happen at school today?”

Calum leaves then, though he can catch the small boy gush about the races he won at recess. It’s probably crazy of him to try and find some sort of way to come back here again soon, but Calum’s already trying to put together an excuse.

When Calum heads back to the front with the group, laughing at Michael’s utter disgust at the way the last few throws went, he does look for Freya. A girl with red hair is sitting at the desk instead. And though a little bit of disappoints settles into his stomach because he wanted to tell her how well her advice worked, he finds himself resolved and it wouldn’t be broken.

******

Calum told himself whatever Freya had to say during this talk wouldn’t break him. Hell, if he were honest, he didn’t think it would go like this. “You know, I used to say I was no good for people all the time,” Calum laughs. He sniffs hard and wipes his noses on the back of his nose. “It was a clean get-away line.”

“I’m not giving you a get-away line. I’m giving you the truth,” Freya returns.

“No, I’m-I’m not saying you’re giving me bullshit. You’re setting a boundary and a good one at that. I respect it. I’m just saying the irony. The same thing I used to tell others is coming back my way.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“I don’t regret it.” Calum shakes his head, not because he’s lying. But to emphasize his point.

*****

Calum doesn’t regret going to the Yelp, Facebook, or Instagram page of the business to see if she had liked it or appeared anywhere on their social media. And luck would have it, he manages to find her. The owners like to show off their employees. Their preferred form of employee appreciation appears, in Calum’s investigation, to be a quick bio of new employees along with a video of them throwing. He nearly misses Freya’s post because of his quick scrolls. The bottom of the page comes up quicker than the app could handle and just as the new page loads that he notices it. The thick twists and black lipstick sitting on her cool dark brown skin.

He doesn’t regret it when he followed the account that was tagged, or the message he sent her from his finsta, or the messages they exchanged for a few days. And he for damn sure can’t find himself to regret it when he came back to the place a couple of weeks later to see if Freya was working.

There’s no regret when she smiles at him and laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to test your theory yet again. It worked last time. But I want to make sure that it wasn’t beginner’s luck.”

“You doubt me. You dare doubt me? I’m offended.”

Calum laughs briefly as he leans into the counter of the front desk. “It’s more like I’m testing a theory. Making sure the results can be recreated.”

“Oh, I promise you my results are valid.” She reaches out for his ID and every so gently their fingers brush. Calum can’t tell if that’s intentional or not, but it doesn’t the slight shiver that runs down his spine. “So just you today, huh?” Freya continues on, grabbing a clipboard, some forms, and a pen.

“Just me.”

“Rest of your friends scared.” Her gaze falls to the stack she’s gathering, checking something off on the top page and then sliding the ID back to Calum.

“They’d probably laugh at me if they knew I was here.”

“Laugh at you?”

“Tell me--why do you think I’m here?”

A moment passes between them. Though it takes up more like several seconds, time feels froze as Freya studies his face. Calum wants to reach up and readjust his hat out of a nervous habit. He wants to take it back. But more than anything, he wants to know if he has a shot. If it’s worth really pursuing.

“I think you’re here to test a theory. Maybe, just maybe you’re here because of Vanessa too,” she smiles as it says. Like she knows that isn’t the truth but she doesn’t want to give into Calum.

And while it’s not the answer he was hoping for, Calum takes it. She wants to play a game and he can be down for that.

*****

She wants to reach out for his hands. They sit next to each other in the lounge chairs Calum keeps lined around his pool. But Freya thinks twice about it. The bulbs dangle above them casting an amber hue onto the water, a stark contrast to the twilight pressing evening closer to night’s full darkness. Freya does regret it. She regrets not leaving her teasing response just to testing a theory. She knew what Calum was fishing for, what he was hoping to confirm when he came back by himself.

Maybe it was just where she was then. Then she thought she could give more. Now she realizes she can’t. She likes it when she’s dating someone and they can decide on a random Sunday for errand runs. She likes having them around. And not that Calum wouldn’t be around. Tours didn’t happen all the time. But they did run long. And who the hell knows where she’d be in eight months after she graduated. Her life wasn’t stable--she wasn’t tied to the West Coast like Calum was.

Her life was full of variables. Ones that she didn’t really plan on trying to solve until closer to Christmas in the spring right before graduation. And she didn’t want to give Calum any more false hope. It wasn’t set in stone that she’d be staying in LA and it wasn’t set in stone that she could handle the long departures. Calum deserved someone that was more sure of themselves.

“I think having regrets is no good anyway,” Freya says, finally breaking the long silence between them. “Having them doesn’t change what happened anyway.” But that doesn’t change the fact that you still regret this, Freya thinks to herself.

“I used to believe love could overcome any obstacle.”

Freya turns to look to Calum and catches thhe way the stubble on his chin from the few weeks he’s gone without shaving halos just a little in the lights. “Used to? The right person, the right love--”

Calum shakes his head. “Now I think people loving me means that they love themselves and they can tell me what they want or need. No guessing. No games.”

“Still sounds a lot of a hell lot like overcoming obstacles.”

“But it’s not a dream. It’s tangible. It’s not me daydreaming up in the clouds. It’s me--right here. Right now. Knowing seeing what it means more than anything else that all the shit I was thinking of as a kid really needed just to be put on the ground level for me.”

“What-what do you mean?”

“I mean as much as it fucking sucks that you’re telling me no, I know you’re doing it for the right reasons. I-there’s like this thing with me. I watch people. I don’t walk into a room of strangers and become the center of attention. I don’t like people all that much, but I care. You know? I care about the people I put into my life and I want them to do well and succeed. I want what’s best for them. It’s not always easy to want that, but innately, I do, I think. Deep down I want what’s good for people. And maybe love is doing the hard things, you know.”

He pauses. Freya watches the way he drops his head, fingers threading through the curls. She keeps quiet. There’s something more, something deeper to the words. “And you’re doing the hard thing. Whether it’s for me or not is debatable,” Calum continues. “But I think love is doing the hard things.”

“You said that having some space was important to you. And while I understand that, like you do need to be your own person in a relationship--”

“Your reasons or how you want to justify it to yourself for me isn’t something I need. You already said that you know what you expect and like out a relationship and that the touring would be too hard for you. Set boundaries for you. What good does it do to justify it to me?”

“So you know I’m not being an asshole, Calum. For fuck sake.”

“No, no, I-shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--who are boundaries really for? What do they do?”

“I guess they do protect the person making them. But I’m not trying to be an asshole to you. I swear.”

Calum looks up from the cement of his background lining the pool to the glossy sheen coating Freya’s eyes. They’re black in the settling night. But Calum knows they’re more like a medium brown--dark enough to get lost in them, but when they catch the light just right, they can feel like an enchanting spell sucking him in.

“Freya, you are a sarcastic son of a bitch. But an asshole to those that don’t deserve it, never.”

She sucks on her teeth, swatting at his bicep. “Take that back.”

Calum leans onto his left elbow, closing the gap between them just a little. A smile lifts his lips gently. “Never.”

“We’ve both been burned. Is it bad I didn’t want that again?”

“No. I used to say love is a scam. So I don’t think I’m necessarily the poster boy for relationships.”

“But admit it, you hoped this was the one so you wouldn’t be the odd man out.” His brows furrow at her comment. Freya gives him a soft smile. “Two of the guys are engaged. But all three of them are in a relationship.”

He sighs, gazing dropping from her face. “Maybe I was hoping so. Is it bad of me to want to be in love?”

“No. I told some kids that my boyfriend was Shermar Moore,” Freya admits with a laugh. “I was working at a summer camp and one girl saw his picture on my phone. It was my lockscreen for the longest time. So I just went with it. Well, I was spurred in part because of Drew who was a fucking creep and wouldn’t leave me alone. But I did fantasize about it. Dream of being in love with some famous and the limelight. Shit at that point, I hadn’t even dated anyone either. So another part of it was a desire too.”

“Is that part of it too? Worried about what trolls and whatever will say?”

“Oh, no one who doesn’t know shit about it can make me get outside myself.” Freya laughs but reclines into the cushions of the chair. “But maybe it’s a little bit of it. That’s too many voices talking all about you. It’s a lot of noise and some of it has to bleed through you know. Even if you’re careful and you work not to take it in, some does, right?”

“I don’t think humans were created to be able to handle that much criticism or even love and adoration. Our brains can’t handle it. So yeah, a little bit seeps in. But you keep that door closed as much as you can. You talk to people that also get it. Fuck, you even get a therapist.”

“Or a dog,” Freya says before turning her head to watch Duke laying inside next to the back door.

“And a dog,” Calum corrects.

“Excuse me, you get a therapist and a dog.”

“Tell me something.”

“I’m listening,” Freya returns, looking back to Calum.

“Before you go tonight, tell me the thing you’re going to cherish between us.”

“Will you do the same?” Calum nods at the question but doesn’t respond verbally as he gazes at her.

“Do you want to answer now?”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted me to stay.”

“I want you to stay as long as you feel comfortable. And then when you leave, the parting thing we have is the good, the best of us.”

“What if I stay until dawn?”

“Then you stay until dawn. Though, I think it’s safe to say both of us will pass out by 3 AM.”

“That was the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever done,” Freya laughs. Remembering the same she spent a Friday night after a shift at Calum’s place. He had a birthday party on Saturday along with a vet appointment with Duke. And then Sunday, Freya had we weekly lunch with her friends that she couldn’t miss. So Calum asked her if she wanted dinner Friday night at his place. Which she said yes to, but then it turned into them doing a movie marathon. Which then turned into Calum betting her that he could stay up longer than her. But they ultimately passed out around 3 in the morning on Calum’s couch.

“Thankfully, I did not miss Duke’s vet appointment that time,” Calum tacks on.

“Yeah, no thanks to me waking you up half an hour before it.”

“That darlin’ is what I call details.”

“No, I call that a very important fact,” Freya defends sitting up. “Duke would’ve been late twice if not for me.”

Calum giggles at her incredulous look. She always got heated fast, though she knew when it was serious things and when it wasn’t. “It wasn’t him paying for the visit.”

“So you ought to kiss the ground I’m standing on right now because you didn’t have to pay anything like a cancellation fee.”

“You’re not standing on any ground right-” the sentence doesn’t get the wind to complete itself when Calum watches her stand up. “Or maybe you are standing up.”

Freya hears him, but she gazes up to the sky. Trying to look past the twinkle of his backyard lights. There’s not much to see due to the light pollution. But the sounds capture her attention next. His neighborhood’s almost been mostly quiet. But with the twinge of the summer’s heat fading, Freya can hear the last bit of people outside. A dog barks into the night and there’s the crunch only tires on gravel and asphalt can give. There’s a hum in the night that Freya can feel in her bones.

It’s hard not to fall in love with the sounds of the night. It’s hard not to romanticize this, how possibly if things were different she could find herself at some point always standing in the middle of this backyard listening to the sounds of the night, having Calum beside her or maybe Duke when he’s gone and just letting herself go to the buzz. In all honesty, Freya craved stability. Always having something to come back was her dream. But in that dream it was a partner who would be there for every dinner. A shared space that was full with both of their presences.

“When you think about coming home what’s there?” Freya asks. “Like, in ten years, what’s in your home when you walk inside?”

Calum closes his eyes, bringing the picture to his mind’s eye. “Like, the truth of what I see?”

“The truth,” Freya confirms.

“Two kids, a dog for sure. Maybe two. A wife. A lot of laughs. Being knocked over with hugs. Maybe a movie that hasn’t quite been paused catches my ears. Maybe it’s summer and my mum’s over too. Because she wants to be around the kids as much as possible. And my sister--she comes over when she can too. So we have to figure out what to cook because it’s a family dinner night. I’m mostly likely in Australia. But I could be somewhere else. Just not LA. I don’t think I could have kids here.”

“That sounds lovely, Calum.”

“But I am scared. My parents divorced. What if it doesn’t work out?”

“That wasn’t your fault. And if we heal from our trauma before having kids then maybe some of our fears won’t come to reality.”

“And if it does.”

“Then we know the boogeyman is real and sometimes we can do our best but things that are meant to happen will still happen.”

“Your parents are divorced too, right?” Calum remembers her mentioning a distinction between her mother’s house and her father’s house. But she hadn’t outright stated that her parents were divorced, just alluded to it.

“Yeah. My dad remarried. He seems happy.”

“What about you? If you closed your eyes and thought about yourself in 10 years, where are you?”

“I technically asked what do you see in your home when you walk inside 10 years from now.”

“Oh, come off it,” Calum laughs, throwing a dismissive wave her way.

“But,” she giggles and then closes her eyes. The breeze blows across her face and she lifts her chin up to catch as much of it as she can. Then she speaks, “I don’t know. Home’s full of the people I love. And I feel stable. I’m not worried about what I’m going to do weeks from now when something inevitably has to change. Because nothing’s going to change. Or at least, I’m not anticipating change. I think that’s what I’m sick of. I’m sick of dealing with change and constantly moving around and not knowing what the next year is going to look like. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder and planning. I just want to be still.”

“You did the whole back and forth between houses, huh?”

“Yeah. I always felt like I was playing two versions of myself when I was younger. I had to be one way around my mother and one way around my father and according to my therapist, the constant games of charade fucked me up a little.”

“How often did you go between their houses?”

“Every weekend.”

Calum sucks in air through his teeth, “Yikes. Yeah, no wonder you want stability.”

“Oh, thank you Dr. Hood. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well this is a question so it’s not something you don’t know, but is the thought of me being gone for months at a time remind you of that? Like, you’d have to be one way while I was here and then another way when I was gone?”

Freya shrugs. But it’s right on the nose. “I’d have to learn to be with you and then be without you. And all I have are switches. No dimmers. I’m either on or I’m off. And I-I’m working on it. But I’ve got a long way to go.”

Calum scoffs, whispering mostly to himself. “All I have are switches. No dimmers.” It’s not a taunt to her. It’s not him blowing her concern off. It’s recognition that colors his tone. It’s the sigh when hearing something that connects so deeply it takes all the oxygen from lungs with it.

“And I swear to Christ, Calum, if you make a Lowe’s or Home Depot joke, I will extract your ankles from you right here right now.”

“Extract? What the hell?” Calum laughs.

“Broken ankles heal,” Freya returns with a smirk. Her face is lit mostly from above due to continued standing position but Calum catches the way her lips move.

“Remind me to really never piss you off. Between your ability to throw axes and the time you told me about putting ham on a girl’s car, I don’t think I want that kind of trouble in my life.”

“I only put the ham on the car because my friend was heartbroken and she was a cunt for cheating.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I mean,” Calum points out, his index finger swirling in a circle in front of her.

“I could’ve slashed her tires too.”

“I think ruining her paint job was more than enough.”

Freya places her hands on her hips, looking down at Calum. “I’ve got some anger issues too. Did I mention that?”

They laugh but Calum recovers first to speak. “I hadn’t noticed it before. Thank you for telling me that. But in all seriousness, Freya, the boundaries you have make sense. I hope you continue with therapy as well,” he states with a giggle. “But it’s not easy to look back at yourself and realize ‘Oh shit, maybe I don’t want that thing again because that actually fucking hurt’. And do something about it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“Thanks, Calum. And I will continue with this therapist for the rest of the school year because it’s free. Shoutout to some universities for having really accessible mental health resources.”

Freya finally sits, facing Calum. He keeps his gaze averted. But it doesn’t bother her. “What’s the intention behind telling me I can stay as long as I want? Is it to get me to change my mind? Just earlier both of us were near tears and now we’re walking down memory lane. Sharing things we hadn’t shared yet.”

“I want as much of you as I can get before you’re gone. Selfish, right?” The tears are back, she can hear them in his voice.

“No. A bit of your masochism showing, certainly.”

“You ever know something’s bad for you, but you want it anyway? You want the pain anyway?”

“I mean considering both of us are littered tattoos, pain’s not something we’re too worried about.”

Calum wishes he didn’t laugh, not even the short burst of laughter. “Someone’s coping with humor.”

“Someone’s self flagellating.”

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want you to go. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“Maybe love is doing the hard things. You said that yourself.”

Calum swallows hard and his voice only comes out in a whisper. “I know I did.”

Freya blinks away the blur of tears. But as soon as they clear, more replace them. Her voice is tight as she speaks. “Doing the hard things suck though. Don’t think this is easy.”

“It’s because it’s the hard thing,” Calum returns. He wants to smile and manages to get a small one but he knows. Freya’s going to leave. She won’t stay.

“My favorite thing,” she starts and Calum exhales hard. There it is--the confirmation. The sentence gets caught in her throat so she pauses to clear it, work the tears down to at least speak. God, why couldn’t it have been easy. “My favorite thing between us, about us, whatever you want to label it as, is that we could also be honest. And even if it was burning waffles or ducking paps to watch a movie for an anime that you had no idea anything about because I wanted to go desperately and you had to Google a summary during the previews, we were always honest with each other.”

“I want to put it out there that you only told me that it was for an anime as I was buying the tickets. So I had zero time to prepare beforehand.”

“I told you the name of it the Monday before we saw it.”

“And admittedly, I forget it the second after you said it.”

“Fair enough, Calum. Fair enough.”

Calum spins in the chair and takes her hand. The first time they’ve touched today. Normally, Freya was more than happy to give out hugs but when Calum opened the front door, she have a half smile and stepped inside. If he could go back to earlier, he’d tell himself that was the first sign.

His thumb passes gently over the butterfly on her left hand. “The thing I’m going to cherish is that you made me feel sixteen again. My entire life changed at sixteen and I felt pretty invincible. I was also scared and excited. I was going to be in a band, like a one with lots of records and I don’t know--I only had that dream to believe in because I damn sure did not have a back up. It was before the downs. And I don’t regret the hard times either. But you’re the first person in a long time that gave me those butterflies. Assumed I was just never going to feel them again and I wasn’t a good person before, not as good as I could’ve been. But you gave me something to be good for again. Getting your text made my whole fucking day. And you-god, you cared about so many things. I bought books you recommended and couldn’t wait to talk about them with you. I remembered the kind of person I want to be. So thank you. For making me feel sixteen again in the cheesiest way possible but also in the best way possible too. That things are worth giving a shit for and that we can let people in and it won’t always burn.”

“Just a little sting.”

Calum nods. “Just a little sting.”

Freya brings his hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the right one. Her sniffle is loud amongst the hum of the night. “If it weren’t for the fact that my eyeliner is tattooed to my face it would probably be running. I’m sorry it has to hurt at all. But-but I’m hopeful.”

“Hopeful?”

“Hopeful that we’ll get what we need out of life.”

He nods again, watching the tears track down her cheek. “We will.”

Her hands gently slip back out of his grasp and she uses the back of her wrist to press under her nose. The tremors shake her hands, so she shakes them before standing. Calum cranes his neck up, words about to fall from his lips. But she cups his cheek and smiles at him. “Don’t. There’s nothing else to say.”

It happens just as he blinks. He sighs, eyes closing to steel himself. Because there’s always so much else to say. And then her lips are pressing to his forehead. It last long enough for Calum to take hold of her thighs instinctively want to pull her in closer to him.

Then she’s gone. His hand slides down the rough denim and Freya’s walking to the edge of the backdoor. Duke picks up his head but doesn’t move much else. “Oh yeah, you don’t need to move. You know everyone comes to you, huh?” She gives him a few pats and scratches. “I’ll send you something for your adoption day, okay, love? And you might hate wearing it or you might love eating it. But be on the lookout for the mailman. He’ll have something from me.”

Calum doesn’t say anything as she says her goodbyes to Duke. She kisses the top of his head too and he thinks she might’ve whispered something else but he’s not certain from his spot on the chair. The swish of the tassels on Freya’s jeans signal her and the click of her heeled boots tell Calum she’s walking farther from him. The latch in the fence clicks and the wood around the hinges creak as she presses into the door. There’s a soft thud as the door shuts and then Calum can’t hear anything over the cough he uses to try and cover the tightness in his chest, can’t see anything in the blurry vision of his tears

She’s just gone.

******

When the front door bell sounds, Calum doesn’t think much of it. It could be a package or someone selling something. So he pushes up from the kitchen table and heads to the door. There on his porch is a light blue box with white bones on it. The subscription box that Calum gets already came. But then he notices an index card with a handwritten address on it. He picks it up. Right there in the return address is Freya’s name. He sucks in a breath and then looks to see who it’s addressed to: Duke Hood + Calum.

“Duke,” Calum calls out, stepping back inside to the house. He closes the door with his foot. The click of paws let him know the old man’s heard his call. “A little early birthday present has arrived just for you.”

He walks deeper into the living room and sets the box on the coffee table. Inside holds an olive green harness, treats, and a card. Calum laughs as Duke presses his snout against the bag of treats. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Duke happily munches on one of the chews from the bag and Calum opens the card. A different letter slips out into his lap. He can see the ink and lettering pressing through to the other side. His heart hammers, but he forces himself to turn back to the card. “Dear Duke,” Calum pauses to see if Duke responds but his investigation continues on the treat. “I mean, fair enough.” Calum continues to read the card written by Freya, “Even though only the universe knows your true birthday, this card, harness, and bag of treats is meant to mark you sticking it out with your pops for yet another year. To spare you the grumps about a very cute hawaiin shirt I, instead, got a badass harness. Now you’ll be the coolest guy on the block. Happy Birthday/Adoption Day. With Love, Fre.”

Duke, done with the treat, looks to Calum and settles next in front of his folded legs. “Oh, so much work eating a treat.”

But Calum reaches down to gently pats at his tummy. The front of the car is cute, Calum finally recognizes. A cartoon white dog is drawn on it with large pink glasses against a yellow background. There’s no telling where she found it at. Calum looks down to the handwritten letter on printer paper. What would Freya possibly have to say?

Calum hadn’t had the guts to press send on any of the texts he drafted in the three months since they last talked. He wasn’t sure if he could. He is sure that if Freya hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, she would’ve said so, and she wouln’t have sent this box for Duke. His fingers tremble as he unfolds the letter.

Calum,

I figured you heard me tell Duke he was going to get a gift. And I knew I couldn’t not deliver on my promise to him. But I do apologize if it crosses any line. Please let me know too--if it crossed any boundaries.

I hope you’re well. Congrats on the latest album too.

With Love,

Freya.

P.S. I saw you a couple times drafting a text to me but never seeing one go through. And if you’re asking why I hadn’t sent a text either, know it was fear too. And me not being sure if keeping it open like that between us would only do more harm than good. So I’m sorry. But I am here, in the sense that to the best of my capacities, I can try to be here.

*****

Her bag’s slipping off her shoulders but she finally gets the key into the lock and gets her front door open. She sighs as she falls into the ugly blue apartment door and all but flings herself into her place. The stack of mail in her hands barely makes it to the edge of the kitchen counter too. It was just one of those days and Freya couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone had days like this.

Putting her keys up and getting her backpack next to the couch, she settles into the stools at the kitchen counter to sort through the mail. One’s a bill from the dentist she visited a few weeks back. The one thing her student health insurance didn’t cover. But she couldn’t complain.

There are few junk flyers that she immediately tosses. And it’s her name scrawled in a almost all caps that catches her eyes before she even gets finished with the rest of the pile. In the top corner for the return address she catches the name: Calum Hood + Duke

“Mail from Duke, what a surprise.”

But the real surprise is Calum’s name. It’s just a plain white envelope with a stamp and the city mark it was mailed from. Freya pops it open and sees a sheet of legal pad paper folded up.

Freya,

Thank you for Duke’s gift. The chews are a hit. The harness is much appreciated for our walks. Though, I think they’re more like walks for me. And Duke gets a little exercise in before he tuckers out. But I don’t fault him. No lines were crossed. So no need to worry about that.

I think I like the idea of mailing letters more than I do like texting. But I understand. Doing the hard thing sucks. It always has and always will. Do what you need to for yourself.

Thank you. I wouldn’t normally do this. But there’s a couple songs--they’re about you. I wanted to give you a warning before you listen to it. If you listen to it, I guess I should say.

Best of luck with your last year of school. You’ll have that Master’s in no time and then maybe soon you can take over the Library of Congress like all your evil plans have laid out. (I know, I know. Not what your Library Studies degree does. But I still think you should.)

With Love,

Cal

Freya chuckles at the Library of Congress comment. She picks up her phone and finds Calum’s thread. It’s easy to want to tell him that she can’t take over the Library of Congress and that she’s glad the treats went over well and that the harness was really more of an accessory to make sure Duke looks like a badass.

But she knows--she knows the ease got her into a pickle before. It’s why she stopped things before they got more serious. But was fear going to always predict what she was going to do in her life? Maybe the ease of things was a sign to continue. But if what if things got too far? WOuld be able to handle Calum being gone? Would she inevitably get her heart broken? And sure no amount of contemplation can predict things like this, but she did want to play with that risk no matter how fucking easy it was in the moment.

With a frustrated sigh, Freya drops her face into the forearms. Her phone is still in her grip with the movement. “It’s never fucking easy is it!” she shouts into her apartment.

There’s silence that engulfs her but it gives no response.

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #5sos #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood x black oc #calum hood x oc #calum hood x fem oc #h writes

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fanfictiondreamscape · 4 years

Text

First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Genre: fluff, tons of it

Pairing: Sugawara/Tsukishima/Yaku/Akaashi/Kunimi x reader (all separate)

Notes: Nothing too unusual, but I thought that I’d start the posting to get something on the page. Whether it gets read, we’ll find out, but I couldn’t help myself. Onto the cliche headcanons. (I may do more of these, but for the time being, this will only consist of my top five characters in the anime). Quick note: some of these may be longer than others.

Only a forewarning, but inspiration hit harder in certain areas, y’know.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Masterlist

Sugawara Koushi

ok so

hear me out here, but I think that - for this to happen - it’d be with someone very shy.

someone that’s very shy and reserved while also remaining very aloof and observant

(maybe even a little sarcastic?)

like...he’d be attracted to their air, y’know?

as for the kiss...

the kiss itself would be done somewhere fairly private. and a little covered in shadow

someplace like the back row of a movie theater or the hidden corner of a cafe or restaurant. maybe even out in public when nobody’s outside (read: late night walk in the park)

like seriously, just imagine that, i swear-

ANYWAYS

the two of you would be holding hands, he’d be admiring you while you’re doing whatever you do

he thinks everything you do is adorable, and he can’t help but admire you

it’s only when you notice his googly eyes that you let him know that you know he was staring

he’d blush a little, but remain generally composed.

the quiet would be broken very suddenly by suga

“your so cute when you’re focused.”

little did you know, you were pouting.

he found that the most adorable.

he continued to watch you as you turned your eyes to the floor

oH BOY DID HIS HEART FLUTTER-

he couldn’t help himself.

time seemed to slow down as you looked up and he leaned in closer.

eventually, the two of you were staring into each others eyes

and once he peeked down for a millisecond, he kissed you

the kiss itself was very sweet, very gentle, but also had a slight bite to it?

(how am I supposed to explain this? does this even make any sense?)

as it got more passionate, he cupped your cheek with his hand as you gripped his shoulder lightly

as the two of you pulled away from each other, everything around you was a little blurry

even through the shadows, he could see that you were blushing a firetruck red

(little did he know, he was blushing the same color)

overall, the first kiss between you two would be very romantic and very sweet.

considering it’s suga, though, prepare for a little teasing and a tight hug afterwards.

Tsukishima Kei

THIS BOI I SWEAR-

it’s a well known fact that this beanpole is very obnoxious and snarky

so his s/o would be very much the same

maybe not as introverted, but very much sarcastic and witty

in order to last with this smartass, you’d have to be intelligent and have thick skin

good luck

otherwise, the kiss would most likely happen somewhere very private.

like his s/o’s room or his room, or when they’re home alone.

just somewhere very private and comfy

now here’s the thing-

i think the kiss itself would happen in the midst of a debate

something to throw the other off, y’know?

sooo...

the TV is playing in the background, probably some movie with a huge plot hole

it annoys both of you, but the two of you have two different opinions of how the plot hole could be fixed.

like...

you’re claiming that the timeline could be fixed had they found a certain item before a different one

and he’s claiming that the timeline could be fixed without the inclusion of either item

a whole back-and-forth ensues

the kiss itself though

that happens when you are starting to hesitate with comebacks and reasoning

like-

you know you’re right, but he’s pressing your buttons so much

the timeline is heavily dependent on the items that you stand by, so

(though he won’t admit it, he knows that the items are beneficial to the plot, and he’s only doing this to see you get flustered and red)

since tsukki’s not backing down, you decide that you have to do something drastic

something that’ll make the smart mouth speechless

so you decide that the time is now

when he’s looking at you with that smug look on his face, his mouth just slightly opened and about to make some baseless remark

you lean in and kiss him

it’s very short, very light

but now that he is shocked, you’re happy.

except...

he regains his composure and tilts your head to meet him

he kisses you this time

this time, its very passionate, a little rough, and a little messy

but the both of you enjoy it very much

the two of you act like nothing happened, but it’s the little moments like that that make the two of you happy

and you two tend to kiss and get a little more clingy in private-

overall, very short and kind of sneaky.

there’s still love behind it, of course

but there’s no real ‘pause’ or slowing of time until the second kiss

Yaku Morisuke

now-

i believe that this guy would be drawn to someone that’s very bubbly and energetic

not like yamamoto or lev, but very high-energy and outgoing

which also leads to the setting

A VOLLEYBALL GAME!

who tf would’ve guessed, oh my-

so like, the team is going up against a really powerful and notoriously defensive team

and while Nekoma is going HARD

they’re still behind

the sets were even and the odds did not seem to be in their favor

you’re in the stands, next to the mini yamamoto and lev’s sister

cheering loudly, helping lev’s sister understand the game a little better

anyway...

things are getting tough, and they call a time out

when Nekoma goes to their spot to discuss

you make eye contact with yaku

and you send him a thumbs up while mouthing ‘you got this!’

he sends you a big smile

and his upbeat mood almost completely lifts the slowly dengenerating one of the team

so when they are done elaborating a game plan following the slight loss of a flow

the members in play go onto the court rejuvenated.

with the new energy, they’re able to snag the lead

and, with a three-point difference, they win 25-22

a close call, but they’re excited nonetheless.

so are you and the girls that you were cheering with

as soon as they are finished lining up and people start to leave

you immediately run out of the gym and wait by the doors for your boyfriend and the team to come out

when they do, yaku comes out a little after the other team members

it’s your squeal that shocks him

the kiss happens when you jump onto him

(think something like the falling kiss between victor and yuuri from YOI)

kind of rough, slight teeth, but very romantic and passionate.

nothing bordering on lustful, but most definitely NOT shy

it would eventually mellow out to be more gentle and tame

the scene would lead to mixed reactions from the team, but

you can be sure that kuroo would have some smart remark, lev would have a dumb remark, and yamamoto would be fussing that he doesn’t have a girl

overall, while the kiss would be surprising and rough at first, it would calm down a lot

very romantic, very shocking, but also very memorable

ok but on another note, can something like this happen to me please-

Akaashi Keiji

ok now

this guy would probably be drawn to someone very laidback

kind of chaotic (think quiet chaos)

and very outgoing

like, someone like beck from victorious?

oh god, it’s all coming back to me now-

not so flirty and borderline flighty, but they’d carry the same air that beck does

otherwise, the kiss would probably happen when the two of you are in a private area of something

like a friendly outing or something, and bokuto would be acting like a fool with kuroo or another team member

so like-

the two of you would be cuddled up next to each other silently

maybe like in a less-obvious area

someplace hidden

and you’d just be doing your own thing

playing on your phone, reading, maybe even studying with the pretty setter

either way, you’re absorbed in your work

just as much as he is

though he has been taking slight peeks at you while you were doing whatever

it was distracting him

and he was trying to read

just imagine him thinking

‘they’re so pretty when they’re focused’

you don’t realize that he’s staring at you, but you do eventually are made aware of someone looking at you

with this guy being how he is, he’d probably just keep looking if you made eye contact with him

you’d laugh, he’d turn a little red

ultimately, though, he’d lean forward despite the flustered reaction.

he’d pause in front of you, just watching your lips twitch up into a small smile

a little nod would be the unspoken allowance that he was asking for.

now.

THE KISS

HOO BOY

i imagine that this would be magical

like-

the sparks never leave even after a couple hours.

even then, the remaining sparks are like little fairies that won’t leave your side.

it’s slow, it’s soft, it’s romantic

it’s also not the most gentle, not the most experienced, not the most clean (for lack of a better word)

but it’s everything that either of you could’ve asked for

when the two of you pull away, you giggle a little

akaashi smiles a little

(you know the one!)

anyway, after the kiss

you two would be made aware of the people around you

like bokuto

who is screaming “YEAH! FINALLY!”

you full on bust out laughing and akaashi rolls his eyes

(he may appear bothered, but he finds it endearing)

he does keep a slightly tighter grip on you after that though

overall, his kiss, in my opinion would be the best

if not THE best, then ONE of the best (next to yaku’s oop-)

very smooth, but very inexperienced

while also remaining so unabashedly him, y’know?

Kunimi Akira

now, i haven’t seen as much love for this guy

while i may be missing it or not looking in the right place, i thought i’d contribute to the kunimi train

ANYWAYY

i think he’d go for a bookworm

not necessarily quiet or loud, but very much to themselves.

someone whose shell would have to break

kunimi would probably be best friends with his s/o before he even thought of wanting to date them

and much like suga, i think that the first kiss would happen somewhere slightly private

by slightly private, i mean an area that couples would be plentiful

amusement parks, regular parks, you get it

either way, the area wouldn’t change the kind of kiss

since he is so quiet, i feel like he’d find a way to just relax with you

in a place that is ironically romantic (considering he doesn’t care too much)

that being said, i imagine that this would happen on the ferris wheel

cliche, i know, but just let me elaborate

it’d be getting dark, the two of you would have been at the amusement park with your friends

or maybe even upperclassmen

either way, you two have finally gotten a break from the personalities

and you just want time with each other

no talking, just calm and quiet

anyway, on your search to find something quiet to do

kunimi sees the ferris wheel and notices that the line isn’t very long

(perfect for him, seeing as his laziness is a factor written in the wiki-)

he directs your attention to it in a way that involves little words, and you agree to his suggestion

after a few minutes of waiting, you two get seated and just sit in silence

throughout the whole ride (up to this point), kunimi was looking at you

observing how the sunset makes you glow in the light

how the carnival lights reflect in your eyes

and he melts

you wouldn’t notice it since you are so absorbed in the view of the event

and he is absorbed in the view of you

now, here’s where things get odd

he wouldn’t know how to approach the thought of your first kiss when it crosses his mind

all he knew is that he refused to plan it, the idea struck him, and the timing was perfect.

so.

he just reaches for you hand, and when you turn to look at him

he quickly leans in and pecks your lips

short, sweet, but full of love

definitely leaves the both of you flustered, but

you two do end up scooting a little closer to you after it

and spend the rest of the night at each other’s hip

overall, the kiss is very quick

don’t let that fool you, though, especially with kunimi

the kiss is perfect coming from him, and wouldn’t be the slightest bit overwhelming

it’d leave for more calm atmosphere between the two of you

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norcumii · 3 years

Text

Well that was a bout of PTSD I wasn’t expecting.

Ramblings under the cut so I can find it again later, warnings for: abuse, abusive relationship, probable incoherence, likely oversharing, (urge to) self-harm.

I’ve been dipping my toes back into RvB this week – I’ve seen seasons 1-3 countless times, 4 slightly less but still a lot, and everything else once.

The Ex’s issues included not wanting to venture too far into various media, but he sure did love rewatching what he had seen. That’s part of why once I got free, I made myself sit down and watch the rest – I basically spite-binged seasons 5-13, dissociating through at least the second half because I had so many mental warning bells clanging about how I was misbehaving, cheating by watching ahead without him, how dare I.

Had a shit time sleeping that week, too, but at least the sleep dep was familiar and helped me power through the emotional upset.

Loved the show, too – that doesn’t surprise me in the least, given how I already appreciated the writing and I’ve had several folks singing high praises of the further writing. I had quite a few “holy SHIT” moments, those ‘gotta pause and marvel and breathe “what the FUCK you magnificent ASSHOLES” timeouts,’ y’know, where you gotta stop to walk off some feels and just be awed at writing and performing SKILLS? And that was with the dissociation.

I honestly don’t know how yesterday I stumbled over a set of videos of a gentleman reacting to his first watch of RvB. Of course I immediately went to the super significant episodes, because I was curious as how The Big Moments hit someone else – I watched in a vacuum, squeaking at Tumblr and powering forward before my brain caught up and devoured me.

Anyway, yeah, I’ve been enjoying watching delightfully screechy man react to familiar storylines and jokes, then I realized I desperately wanted to see how he reacted to the end of Season 10, because that was when I had the biggest reaction, personally, and I spent quite awhile chewing over my thoughts and the themes and whatnot. I mean, it’s the end of the major/first storyline, it wraps up YEARS of plot and character arcs, and it’s just fucking balls-to-the-walls AMAZING.

I cackled so much watching this man lose his absolute shit. I was grinning a mile wide when he screeched like an actual banshee and had to take a lap around the room.

I was starting to feel funny as he waxed rhapsodic through the credits. I mean, don’t get me wrong, a lot of what he was saying matched much of my own thoughts at the time when first seeing it, but then he segued into how he’d gotten into RvB via RWBY, and that wasn’t my experience.

(I couldn’t understand why I was feeling so unsettled – I have absolutely no reason to feel wonky about how one gets into a fandom.)

He was still gushing as the post-credit scenes rolled, and I was shook because I don’t think I watched them.

(I’m not surprised – I know I had to stop watching rather abruptly. It was probably super late and I do recall Himself’s shadow looming hard to gnaw at my brain.)

The lovely YouTube gentleman was right back to unending adoration after them, just crying for joy about his love for RWBY and RvB, and I just...started crying.

It wasn’t good crying. It was ugly crying that wouldn’t stop, kept building with that wheezing, rusty-hinge keen that would be a scream if you push from breathing to speaking; crumpling up and finding the old urge to claw spiraling up along with it.

I’m fine. I didn’t, honest.

The emotion is still lurking, even now, after much bawling and a walk to try to redirect whatever the fuck that was. I think the base is a bit of despair, shored up with oceans of grief. Helplessness neutering much of the fury, all wrapped up with threads of sneering incredulity.

I couldn’t understand at first, why I was choking out “We could’ve had this.” I had to puzzle through that bawling which hard experience kept as silent as possible.

We could’ve had this.

This man has so much enthusiastic love for this show. He’s just...JOYOUS about it, open and awed and gleeful.

We never had that. We never could screech in delight about things at each other – any attempts ended in an ugly argument, usually about spoilers (fuck you, dude, if you didn’t want me speculating which you specifically wanted me to be good at in other contexts then don’t start speculating yourself!). Often about words – he had so many words, so many concepts that were taboo, and gods help the poor bastard what stumbled into a synonym Himself thought should be obvious and therefore also taboo instead of a necessary dodge because communication is a thing.

(Was this a concept that was enough degrees separate to satisfy him, or would it lead to a scolding about trying to sabotage his joy? Again. Like always.)

(Not just the scolding, but the demands – how could I be so cruel, WHY had this happened, no – no he wouldn’t accept that I’m too smart to think like that, or I had promised not to do the next door neighbor to it which is as good as promising not to do it either, what was the real reason we’re going to be here until he got his truth. No matter HOW many hours it took.)

We could’ve had this. We could’ve shared things, not Himself serving out appropriate sized dollops of what he liked while I limited myself to whatever I could speculate would be appropriately sized reactions.

I couldn’t enjoy something we shared too much. I couldn’t laugh too loud because it would distract from the moment. His joy always had to come first and how fucking DARE I impinge upon it even one iota?

No, really, I had to confess, and if he didn’t believe the answer it would not be accepted.

I got so tired of lying. I got so tired of being accused of lying when it was truth, and only believed when it was fake.

That’s one of the reasons why arguments went on for hours. I could only grit my teeth and ‘yes sir no sir three bags full sir, obviously I did it to fuck you over sir’ for so long.

My reasons were never good enough.

My joy always ended up being too much.

We could’ve had this – but his world, his joy, was never big enough for anyone but him.

#and not only was it never big enough; then he refused to let me go #i am so hurt and furious right now #Norcumi’s Continuing Adventures in Learning to be a Functioning Human Being #abuse mention #self harm mention #sometimes i treat tumblr like an actual blog

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missnight0wl · 3 years

Note

What do you think about the wand? Why is that wand so needed and wanted? Plus... I'm smeling Professor Snape to the rescue? XD I think the best thing to do is taking Xeep to Hogwarts, making her take the anti-posion and force her to tell us everything -or using Legilimency once she remembers-. What do you think?

I have quite a lot of ideas about what’s going on in Y7, especially when it comes to the Ministry and the Metamorphmagus case – and I will be making a separate post on that. But when it comes to the wand, I admit I’m kind of stumped.

The first idea I have is that the wand is for Rakepick. Ben mentioned in the previous chapter that the wand is a Blackthorn wood with a Phoenix feather core, and it happens that a Blackthorn is my personal headcanon for Patricia, even though I think that a dragon heartstring is much more fitting for her. But either way, I guess I got a little fixated on the idea that it should be her wand. I mean, it does make some sense.

No matter what you chose in the Sunken Vault, I believe that Rakepick could’ve easily got free. Now, if you trapped her in the vault, it technically looked like she went inside without picking up her wand. In that case, it could’ve been accidentally destroyed whenever Rakepick’s companions tried to help her, causing an explosion to remove the rocks blocking the passage (similar to how MC did it earlier). If you turn in Rakepick to the authorities, she could’ve escaped, but her wand was probably taken away, so perhaps she had to flee without it. Either way, it’s very possible that she’s free right now, yet she needs a new wand.

My second idea is directly connected to the Rogues theory, and it’s that the stolen wand was meant to be used against MC. I mentioned once that perhaps R possessed the ability to create a wand that can defeat any other wand – as long as you know its exact specification. It’d explain why we learnt at the end of Y6 that (probably) R was asking Ollivander about MC’s both wands – the old one and the current one. It’d also explain why MC has to learn the wandless magic – because that way they’ll be able to fight R without the risk that they’d have a tool against them.

Now, that Blackthorn wand with a Phoenix feather core could be the combination that would 100% always defeat MC’s wand. Admittedly, MC might have various wands, but I guess we can allow for some simplification in this place. So (according to the Rogues theory), Rakepick, Verucca, and the Wizard in White are actually helping MC, therefore they’d want to steal the wand, so R can’t use it against MC. I know it’s a bit complicated, but nothing else comes to my mind.

I’ve also noticed that when Ben ran on Zenith and Verucca, he tried to grab the wand first. It’s not very weird, but it makes me wonder why he didn’t actually attack. I don’t know, maybe there’s nothing more behind it. As I said, it’s not exactly odd – it just caught my attention.

As for Zenith – well, Snape definitely will come to the rescue. I mean, we literally left him (and Penny) the last chapter after he promised us that he’ll work on the counter-serum, so yeah. And personally, I wouldn’t mind using Legilimency on Zenith at all, because truth be told, I’m super curious now what she knows. I mean, Verucca kind of made it sound as if Zenith doesn’t know much – or at least that she doesn’t know the whole truth.

However, Zenith reaction and drinking her own potion was… pretty drastic. Not gonna lie, it made me think of suicide pills used by military or espionage organisations. Sure, it didn’t kill her, but she had to know how drastic influence it will have on her memory, right? So… what was she so desperate to hide? I don’t know, a part of me thinks that she can’t know too much, simply because Verucca wouldn’t be that stupid to tell her more than necessary. But then, why such a strong reaction? I mean, she obviously has to be scared of Verucca, but perhaps whatever Verucca has on Zenith might be more interesting than whatever Zenith knows…?

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm spoilers #hphm mc #zenith xeep #madam verucca #patricia rakepick #hphm r #year 7 #ask #anonymous

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takoyakitenchou · 3 years

Note

I know your a SNS writer but I was just wondering if you could write something for Jerza Nalu and Gale from FT?

happy new year! i’ve been keeping up with the 100YQ and now i feel a FT binge approaching in the very near future LOL i’ll write jerza and gale in separate posts. also this is my contribution to the nalu winter wonderland @thenaluarchive

new year’s kiss

Magnolia had always been known for its intense Christmas celebration in the city square, to the point where Sting and Rogue brought their Exceeds (and the rest of Fiore) to visit Fairy Tail. New Year’s was more of a guild thing, though; it was a relatively small gathering in Lucy’s apartment that night with stolen decorations from the guild hall strung up around the living room and a countdown playing on a borrowed lacrima vision.

By the time the digits flashed 10 minutes until the new year, a certain celestial mage had fled her own house as a means of escaping a very plastered Erza and whatever obscene games she could come up with. That hot candle wax had been absolutely traumatizing. Lucy figured she’d almost rather go head to head with Acnologia solo than be subject to Erza’s drunk whims again.

It occurred to her then that she should’ve brought a jacket out to the riverbank; the snow was starting to get pretty heavy and the water was frozen solid. Just as the thought began to pass out of her mind, she felt someone drape an unusually warm muffler on top of her head.

“Yo,” Natsu said cheerfully as he sat next to her in the snow and leaned back on his elbows. “You looked cold.”

Lucy glanced at the fire dragon slayer with gratitude before wrapping the scarf around her neck. “Are you not?”

As if in response, Natsu burst into flames. Lucy shrieked as the heat washed over her and jumped what had to be at least ten feet away from him. “Are you trying to burn me!?”

Natsu just laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to make a fire when you’re cold?”

It was no use arguing with him; he’d never change. Instead, Lucy resumed her spot next to him. “You’re pretty warm,” she said quietly, tucking her chin to her chest.

He gave her an atypically serious look. “You’re pretty,” he said, as casually as if he’d been offering to go on a job with her.

When Lucy’s brain started working again, she sputtered, “W-what!?”

“You’re pretty,” he repeated with a frown. “D’you not know what it means?”

At this point, she was too flustered to even slap him. “I know very well what it means! But you can’t just say that!”

Natsu opened his mouth, probably to give her an explanation of the mechanism of the vocal cords, but she flapped a hand at him and he fell silent.

“It’s fifteen seconds until New Year’s,” he noted. It was then that Lucy registered the fact that he was holding a small lacrima displaying the countdown and a half-burnt plant of some sort.

Wait.

“I brought mistletoe,” Natsu continued cheerfully once Lucy’s eyes had widened to the size of the fucking guild hall. “And when this thing hits 00:00”—he stared intently at the lacrima—“I’ll give you a... what did Gajeel call it? Oh, yeah. A New Year’s kiss.”

Now, Lucy had less than two seconds to process what the wizard had just said before the first of the fireworks filled the sky and Natsu leaned in, raising the charred mistletoe above their heads as he did. His mouth collided with her chin, and it could’ve been license to pull away from him and avoid the situation altogether, but all subterranean parts of her consciousness lowered her head to properly meet his lips.

If he’d been warm earlier, he was scorching now—automatically, all thoughts of the bitter cold night and the guild members trashing her apartment melted away and she lost herself in the feel of the strong arms that had carried her through thick and thin around her. It was definitely his first; his movements were cautious and had none of his normal blunt audacity, but Lucy knew it was going to be the best kiss she’d ever have in her life.

When they’d finally gotten their inner shits together long enough to pull away from each other, Natsu was blushing. Natsu Dragneel, blushing!?

“Happy New Year,” he said, somewhat indelicately, but Lucy held back her sigh. She’d always known it was going to be him; she might as well get used to it.

So she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her nose to his neck, breathing in the musky scent of... smoked fish... that clung to him, and told him how much she was looking forward to spending the new year with him.

Then he pulled out a crisply seared job request. “Let’s go on a job. Like... right now. Just us.”

As if she had a choice—oh, yes, she thought as she felt him grab her arm and bolt off at full speed.

It was going to be an interesting year.

#nalu winter wonderland #nalu #fairy tail #yes i am now taking ft prompts #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fairytail #slew of other ft related tags #HAPPY NEW YEAR

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theamberwriter · 5 years

Note

Hi!! The request about Aizawa x waifu reader ( with a bouncing baby) was so cute.... I had a dream about it I’m not joking 100% soft bc of it, I have 2 requests for you!! Can you do a scenario when midnight spilled the beans about reader liking Aizawa ( like you mentioned in the scenario, maybe when they are still on highschool like last year or smth?) and the second request is either a scenario or hcs (whatever u like!) with a their family finally adopting eri Chan?? Pls?? Thank you!

A/N: I’m so glad you liked it so much! Sorry, it took so long. Here’s the first part. I’ll post the headcanons separately, and link from this post!

Read the Series! [2] [3] [4]

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2219

Warnings: None

~*~

You’d done it, it was by the skin of your teeth, but you’d done it. You actually graduated UA. It might have been in general studies but, by God, you fucking did it. There was just one problem - Nemuri, aka Midnight. A long-time friend who was two years older than you.

You hung out with her and her two friends, Shouta Aizawa and Hizashi Yamada, frequently. And had developed quite the crush on the comparatively quiet Aizawa. Nemuri wanted to celebrate with drinks. But you’d been drinking with her before. It was a less than pleasurable experience.

Nemuri had a way of spewing everything that was on her mind. The alcohol broke her common sense filter. Although even sober, she was so excited to find out about your crush that she nearly slipped. You’d been lucky up until now. But she wanted to go to a bar to celebrate. Even just the thought made your stomach twist you into sickening knots.

“Shouta’s not going to find out!” you told your reflection as you prepared yourself in the mirror. But you knew she’d catch the little things you did to try and make yourself more attention-grabbing. More appealing to his eye. The extra dab on perfume he’d complimented you on once. She would call you out for it. But you couldn’t help yourself.

You groaned into the mirror. “This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t told her. Or maybe I should’ve told him. I don’t know. - Gods save me.”

You checked the clock on the wall. You were going to have to leave soon. Whether you wanted to or not. You figured it was best to leave on your own before Nemuri dragged you out by your hair.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” you uttered, locking up behind you. “I mean, he could just say he’s not into you. Right? Or he could laugh at you. Or he could never speak to you again, or - [Name], stop it. It’s only Shouta. And Nemuri won’t say anything…right?”

You knew that was a flat out, straight up lie. Nemuri was sure to do…something. You’d just have to deal with whatever happened. But you were praying that nothing did.

“[Name], you’re finally here! Slowpoke!” Nemuri slurred the moment you walked into the bar. She stumbled over to you and dragged you over to a table. “Even the boys were here before you!”

“Hey, hey! It’s the lady of honor!” Hizashi announced loudly, standing to throw an arm over your shoulder. “Congrats on finally catching up with the rest of us!”

“Leave her be, Hizashi,” Shouta groaned, standing himself. Hizashi sat back in his seat. But Shouta nodded at you. “Congratulations. You’ve worked hard. You earned it.”

You tried to look him in the eye. But ended up staring off the side of him. You smiled, but it felt weird. “Thank you.”

“So what’ll you be having, pretty lady?” Nemuri flung an arm over your shoulder. “Mmm, is that perfume I smell -”

Your face felt hot. You excused yourself and pulled her over to a far wall. You tried to square her up as much as possible. But you could already see that she was out of it. She gave you a goofy, but ultimately knowing, grin.

“You all dressed up for Shouta?” she giggled, gesturing to the table.

You felt like you were gonna die when you followed her arm and caught his eye. You shoved her arm back to her side, shaking her by her shoulders. “Nemuri, promise me, you will not say anything about my crush. Okay?”

She pouted. “Aw, but you look so sexy dolled up. You’re sure to get his attention!”

“Nemuri, please,” you begged. “Let me do it.”

Nemuri groaned. “You need to loosen up. I’m gonna get you a drink.”

She slipped from your grasp before you could stop her. You just had to trust her. But, if you were being honest, you didn’t. Not in the least. Not when she had alcohol in her system, anyway. Any other time, you trusted her with your life.

You went back to the table. Keeping a watchful eye on Midnight. She was laughing exuberantly with the bartender. Hard to tell what she was talking about. Probably something stupid.

“You look good, by the way,” Hizashi said excitedly, pulling you out of your stupor.

You looked down at your outfit. You hardly even wore this dress. But it was good for special occasions. You smiled as you looked back at him. “Thanks. I figured I’d dust it off for tonight."

"Drinks up!” Nemuri’s voice came from behind you. She slid the guys their drinks. Then thrust one harshly into your hands, sloshing whatever it was all down you. You sucked in a sharp breath, it was ice cold. But at least the dress was black.

“Oh shit,” she cursed. “Sorry.”

You put your cup down, ready to go hunt down some napkins. But Shouta beat you to it. He was handing them to you before you could take a step. He was standing a little closer than he usually would. Like he was ready to protect you from whatever stupid thing Nemuri did next.

“Here,” he uttered. Then turned to your friend. “I think you have had enough.”

“Thanks,” you muttered your whole face feeling like an inferno. You blotted the front you, glaring at Nemuri when you heard her chuckle. “I’m going to the lady’s room, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll go with -” Nemuri started.

You sent her a sharp look. “No, you stay here.”

You groaned as you made your way to the bathroom. The night was already a disaster. You tried to dry off under the hand dryer as much as possible. You felt ridiculous. You could’ve cried. When you went back you sat opposite Nemuri, who of course forced you next to Shouta. She was honestly the worst.

“Are you okay?” Shouta asked. You were still glaring the woman across from you down, but she was just smirking.

“A little embarrassed,” you noted, shrugging. Then you looked at him. “But I’ll live. - Are you okay?”

That caught him off guard. “What?”

“I see injuries, remember? Your nose is broken. What happened?”

“It’s not a big deal. I got hit during patrols a few days ago.” He crossed his arms.

You reached your hand towards him. Then pulled back. “I can fix it. If-If you want me to mean, you don’t have to -”

Shouta shrugged. “Why not?”

You let out a breath, then gently touched his cheek with your hand. You watched the bone go back into place, then heal right up. As if it had never been broken in the first place. You gave him a little smile. “There, all fixed.”

You pulled your hand away, and Shouta reached up to feel where it healed. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you muttered, grabbing your cup. “It’s no big deal. I have a dumb quirk, but it comes in handy.”

You guzzled down whatever was in it. Trying to keep yourself from saying anything else stupid.

“So, you got any plans now you’re graduated?” Hizashi asked. He seemed to read the awkward aura from your side of the table.

You grinned. “I’m going to go to school to be a nurse.”

Things went a little smoother after that. You all talked about jobs and plans. The heroes talked about patrolling and the things they’d done. But Nemuri kept downing one drink after another. You were surprised she was still standing. But she’d been out to dance a few times already.

Hizashi had gotten louder. Joining the dance a couple times. Even going up to sing a few karaoke songs. This left you and Shouta to mindlessly small talk. You had a feeling those two were planning something.

“So, have you ever like -” Nemuri uttered, staring you down. Both of them were back in their seats across from you. “Thought about getting married? Or having babies?”

“Of course I have,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Maybe, after I’m done school, I’ll find someone and settled down. Ya know?”

Nemuri blew air through her lips. “What if they were a hero? And they were always out and getting beat up?”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I’d be the best wife to have, I guess. ‘Cause I could heal you right up -”

“Hear that, Shouta?!” Nemuri practically shouted, laughing at whatever was on her mind. “You’d have yourself a personal nurse! There are all sorts of fun things you could get up to.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Nemuri -”

She groaned. “Whhaaaatttt?? I’m tired of keeping it a seecccrreeettt. Your crush on Shouta is so big, you’re basically in love with him already.”

You briefly glanced between the two before you shot out of your seat. “You are the worst.”

You made your way out of the bar into the warm summer air. You were dying inside. “God, I’m so stupid. Why did I tell her?! I knew this would happen!”

You stared out at the passing cars. Not expecting anyone to come after you. But a few minutes later, a throat cleared behind you. You were surprised when you looked over your shoulder.

“Hey, you alright?” Shouta asked, coming to stand beside you.

“Shouta, hi,” you breathed, looking up at him. “I, uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just incredibly embarrassed.”

He smiled a little. “You should know by now that she doesn’t keep secrets.”

“Yeah.” The two of you stood in silence a long moment. Just staring into the night. “Look, Shouta - if you just want to reject me now, I totally get it. I knew I never had a chance with you anyway.”

Shouta heaved a heavy sigh. But you were not prepared for the words that came next. “Your secret wasn’t the only one she outed tonight.”

“What?” You took a step back.

Shouta rolled his eyes. “You didn’t listen very well, did you?”

“I was more worried about her telling you -”

“Think about it.”

You thought for a good long minute. “The wife thing.”

He nodded. “I mentioned it in front of her once, by accident.”

Your heart fluttered so much it hurt. “Oh.”

You both were quiet for a long minute again.

“So,” he started awkwardly. “Would you want to?”

“Would I what?” There was no way this was actually happening.

“Maybe, after nursing school, settle down. With me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly. Stern faced Aizawa was standing next to you. Giving you the awkwardest confession ever. It was so cute, you just couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you giggled. “But I’m pretty sure that the marriage proposal is supposed to come after we start dating.”

He looked down at the ground. “Right…”

Gently, you put a hand on his arm. “But I would love to if you want to.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t serious.” He flicked your forehead lightly and gave you a little smile. “I have early patrols on a day coming up. Afterward, we should go out and do something.”

You nodded, unable to contain the smile on your face. “Yeah, sure, I’d like that.”

You weren’t really sure what to do. Hug him, kiss him, shake his hand. You went for the hug. Rambling quickly into his chest, “I was honestly more worried about how you react to the news than what you would say.”

You backed away, but he surprisingly kept a hand on your waist. “What was the worst that could happen?"

You sighed. "I dunno. I thought you’d hate me. Or laugh me off. Or get up and leave. Or think my quirk was useless and not want to go out with me. - There’s a lot of things that could go wrong.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. And you have a good quirk. There aren’t many people with healing abilities.”

You were silent again. Enjoying the warmth and static now between you. You were all warm and shaky. Overall excited that this was happening. You were on cloud nine.

“Think we should go back in?” you asked, nodding towards the door.

“Let’s go in separate,” Shout suggested. “It’ll drive those two insane.”

“Hizashi knows?” You quirked a brow.

He nodded. “He’s known longer than Nemuri. And she probably told him about you. Neither of them can keep a secret.”

You two walked in separately. And he was right, it did drive those two insane. They were trying to figure out what happened. If you two had gotten together.

“Gguuuuuyyyysss, are you mad at mmmeeeeeee?!” Nemuri whined. “I’m ssooorrrrrryyyy. You two are just too cute together! And you’re lucky I’ve kept your secrets this long!!”

“What’re you complaining about, yo?! I’ve known longer than you have!” Hizashi scoffed.

“Nnnooooooo, I’ve known about his crush for two years longer than I knew about [Name]’s crush!!”

“Well I’ve known since he met her!”

Nemuri stood, her face flush with alcohol. Her hand was on her sleeve. “I’ll put you to sleep, speaker boy!”

The two spent the rest of the night arguing. Trying to figure out timelines and markers to see who really knew the longest. You knew it’d come up inconclusive. But you and Shouta sat and watched the whole utterly amused. If only they’d paid attention. The entire time you two were sneakily holding hands under the table.

~*~

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astromechs · 3 years

Text

this is the start of an idea i had... i keep telling people it was six months ago, but i actually think it was a year ago that i first thought of this, and i kept sitting on it too scared to write it because i didn’t think i’d do it justice. that being said, i’m actually kind of proud of this excerpt, and since i’m feeling soft about one of my oldest and most beloved fandoms today:

i bring you what is — basically my matrix 4 spec fic.

(i do eventually plan on posting this to ao3 as a complete piece when i finish the other parts that i have in mind, because i have plans for this... oh, i have plans.....)

01.

Every single morning, Thomas A. Anderson is jolted awake at approximately 8:15 AM by the shrill of the same alarm, shovels in the same shitty cereal before stumbling into one of the same five shitty suits that he has to remember to get dry-cleaned, takes the same seat on the subway on the way to work — where he sits in the same chair for eight hours straight with minimal breaks, staring at his computer screen (or, more often, out into nothing) until it’s time to take the same subway back to his shitty apartment, order from the same rotation of shitty takeout, and find some mindless, banal distraction while he ignores texts that don’t even matter anyway before he falls asleep to eventually wake up and do it all over again.

It’s nothing special — just the average life of an average mid-grade programmer at the average tech conglomerate. Comfortable, sure, and a dream many would kill to achieve; he knows this, knows this every time he passes the poor old woman who’s feeding pigeons in her ratty coat from the battered metal bench on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. He slips her whatever spare change he has on him — a $20 bill, on the days he’s lucky, but often less than that — and, without fail, she always accepts, with a warm smile and kind eyes that seem to stare right into his soul, seeing the deepest parts of it.

Like she knows him. And that’s what’s weird.

He tries not to put too much thought into it, because, honestly, he tries not to put too much thought into anything at all; he’s found that to be the most effective way to navigate the machine that systematically runs his rhythmic, mundane life.

But even so, there are things that he knows he can’t shake.

One afternoon in late February, when the cut of the wind had not remotely suggested that spring would just be a month away, he’d passed the woman on the bench as always, but he could’ve sworn that the whole flock of pigeons scattered on the sidewalk at her feet had frozen for a split second. Like they’d been… glitching. In a blink, everything had returned to normal, and he’d spent about three days (and three sleepless nights) trying to convince himself he’d been seeing things, that he’d just been spending too much time actually working on his assigned program for once and that maybe he should take some of his accumulated vacation days? And the following week, he had, but….

No time off to try to clear his head would ever change the fact that this hadn’t been an isolated incident.

Because sometimes — he swears he sees pieces of code fall through his field of vision; a blink and then they’re gone, but it happens too often not to be a pattern, and no matter how much he might want to for the sake of his own sanity, he can’t just brush that aside. Sometimes, flashes come to his mind like barely-remembered dreams, in idle moments and just on the edge of the line that separates sleep from waking consciousness, so real that he knows they’re memories.

Dark tunnels that haven’t seen the sun for centuries. Cold, so cold that no amount of warmth, human or otherwise, can really combat. Running, desperately bounding up the fire escape to the third floor of a rundown motel, three men in sunglasses and perfectly-tailored suits in close pursuit, his heart pounding in his ears so loudly he can barely hear the phone ring from Room 303, the place he has to get to, because everything depends on it. A barrage of bullets in his chest, one right after the other, back slumping against the wall as his heart gives out, vision fading to grey and then to black, but a voice, reaching through it all to call him, tether him….

Neo.

There are things that he knows he can’t shake, and sometimes, he thinks he had another life. Another name.

Another purpose.

He’s haunted by the ghost of it.

It’s the second of April — at least, that’s what the screen of his phone tells him, because otherwise he wouldn’t know, or care to know. A Friday, and all the faceless commuters are packed like sardines into this subway car, headed home for weekends that are sure to be as inconsequential as his own. Today, he has to stand holding the rail for the ride home; a woman trying to juggle both a baby and two bags of groceries had just barely managed to stumble onto the train before the doors had closed, and he’d sprung up, more than glad to give up his seat to someone in greater need.

She tries to thank him, profusely and repeatedly, but with where he’s standing, he would have to twist to keep facing her, so, with a nod and the barest hint of a smile, he turns away to spend the trip the way he always does: in solitude.

The route back to the station just down the block from his apartment building is never smooth, by any stretch of the imagination, but today, it’s bumpier than usual; the train car jerks and jostles, until, eventually, it sends him colliding into back of the passenger standing next to him.

He’s just about to stammer out some automatic, awkward apology, but then —

Blue eyes meet his, clear, crisp blue, and a jolt strikes him right to the core.

He thinks — no, he knows, he knows — he’s seen these eyes.

Neo. In the darkest corners of his mind, the voice whispers again.

Time freezes, glitches, around him, around him and this stranger with familiar blue eyes. He sees the light leave them, and then come right back. He sees warmth, what something is telling him had once been the only thing able to keep the cold of the real away; that warmth spreads through now, to the tips of him, and he has a sense, one he doesn’t entirely understand, that something has just clicked into place.

Behind sunglasses, another pair of eyes watches them from across the car.

“You all right?” Neo.

He sees brows knit in concern, and for the first time, he pays attention to the face that the eyes belong to. Probably the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in… more than one life, he’d have to guess, is now in front of him; he isn’t so detached and disconnected that he doesn’t notice that. Her short dark hair is cut into a severe bob, and she’s dressed in black from head to toe — from her coat and gloves, to her boots. It suits her, somehow.

After a beat, he finally remembers to speak. “Yeah. I — sorry.” The subway jerks to a halt; he glances up, and adds quickly, after clearing his throat, “This is… my stop. Excuse me. Sorry.”

Pushing past her, pushing past everyone in his way, he disembarks to the station, and when his feet touch solid pavement, he takes off at a sprint. Up the stairs (third floor… Room 303….), down the sidewalk (agents, just behind… he can beat them, if he just runs faster than he ever has…), not stopping until the mundane certainty of his shitty apartment building is within his sights.

Just before he makes it safely inside, he catches a glimpse of the old woman on the bench watching him, her smile wider than he’s ever seen it. Maybe, even, almost inhumanly wide.

#* fic #the matrix #neo #neo x trinity #(tagging this with the pairing is probably not a spoiler for the fic lmfao)#(if you're like... following me here you know where i'm going with this)#watch me wake up and delete this tomorrow out of self-consciousness #this is the first thing i've written for this fandom in #at least ten years #probably more #AAAHHHH SHRIEKS #(also i promise i'm getting back to writing prompts!!)#(i just took a little detour....)

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auggie-hunter · 3 years

Text

the insomnia diaries;

❛ surprise. send an unexpected nsfw image to my muse.

truthfully, auggie should've known this could’ve happened one day. not that he’d ever expect it from her, or even ask, but he should’ve known teddy graham would find new and exciting ways to make him fall out of his chair.

(literally; he’s in the middle of a stream when it happens. he’d seen the notification go off while waiting for his game to load and had the capital idea to fully lean over to check instead of just reaching for his phone with his arm.

he’s could not be more relieved that he falls to the ground because he isn’t sure he could’ve kept a poker face on camera. or that he’d make it to his 23rd birthday with the way his heart is racing)

and while his viewers are likely laughing up a storm at his faux pas, turning his chat to chaos, he manages enough mental capacity to mute his mic, eyes still glued to his phone.

because his girlfriend, bare from the chest up with an arm tucked behind her head and a knowing, bright red smirk on her lips, stares back at him on his phone.

vlauggie: sorry dudes, technical difficulties, we’re back tomorrow, 7pm. ps: you’re all banned for laughing at me :)

…even if technical difficulties were, quite literally, him dramatically unplugging the computer and running to his bedroom where she laughed loudly when he all but jumped her bones.

worth it. totally.

__________________

❛ abrupt. kiss my muse out of the blue.

she’s in the middle of a phone call with her sisters, giggling from her place on the barstool at the kitchen island. about whatever it is they’re discussing. he isn’t sure; he genuinely hasn’t been listening. what he is sure about is how happy she looks to hear their voices and be laughing with them.

he hasn’t seen her smile in so long, he thinks, and his heart squeezes when he realizes just how long it’s actually been. eight months since they lost lip.

her eyes look so bright, and she looks so much like herself. like his teddy. like the heaviness of her heartbreak isn’t weighing her down.

like she might fly again.

he’s missed this for her.

she’s mid sentence when he cups both her cheeks and presses his lips to hers, soft and tender and warm. it catches her off guard; he can tell by the way she stares back at him, lips slightly parted, confusion on her brow. but instead of answering her or explaining, he drops a long, lingering kiss atop her head, thumbs swiping softly over her cheeks.

she mutters something about calling them back and her arms are sliding around his waist a second later, drawing him into her arms.

__________________

❛ go down. go down on my muse.

he almost hates that she’s here like this. almost. that she could come back after all this time, after he finally figured out how to make himself stop missing her long enough to move on.

he almost hates that he’s so addicted to her that he’s willing to burn it all down for her.

almost. but auggie hunter could be selfish like that. teddy graham would always make him selfish when it came to her.

they were just supposed to talk. she just wanted to talk, or so she said. the way she’d fallen into his lap in the middle of it all told a different story.

the way he falls right into her makes him angry, because he knows she knew he would, and that he always would. she knows her choosing not to talk and just go straight into the familiar is her way of having her cake and eating it, too.

but two can play at that game. and he can’t say he’s doing much thinking when he lifts her onto the desk in front of him though. or when he’s pulling lace that he wants to pretend wasn’t strategic down her thighs and letting his mouth following the same trail back up them.

the ring on his left hand burns with the weight of what he’s doing, and the pressure of soft, firm skin underneath it. he desperately wonders in the back of his mind if there will ever be a day in his life where he isn’t weak for the woman in front of him.

(he also wonders how in the world they got here)

__________________

❛ note. give my muse a note saying : [ content ].

he’s surprisingly nervous today. ironic, considering he’s technically already done this. but til the day he died, auggie hunter was certain teddy graham would, without much effort on her part, make his heart race.

they weren’t even going to have a wedding. they’d talked about it, sure, once they’d gotten back from paris, matching rings on their fingers. they’d said they could do it one more time for their parents’ sake.

except the world had been put on pause, she’d turned out to be pregnant, and they’d had more pressing matters to attend to in the form of two babies and more love and life than they knew what to do with.

but that was then. this was now. their daughters are eight months old, the world’s eased back in, and their families are waiting patiently in the terrace of the house in maine he and teddy had called home for the better part of the last eighteen months.

they’re getting married. again.

and he’s nervous.

the thing is, if he could see her, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so antsy about it. call it separation anxiety after all the time they’d spent together coupled with way too much excitement.

and he’d see her soon; one glance at his watch tells him they’re only twenty minutes out from when he’d be waiting for her at the top of the beautifully decorated aisle in the garden.

(the watch is a present from freddie when he’d come in to help with his tie, their father’s initials engraved in the back. “he’s here, too…” his brother had said, and they’d both held back tears)

but somehow, twenty minutes feels like an eternity.

he closes his eyes and takes a long deep breath, trying to get it together, before reaching for his suit jacket. he’s getting married. (again).

while running both hands over the front to smooth out the neatly pressed material that makes him look older somehow, wise beyond his years, a crinkling grabs his attention. he furrows his brow, wondering if the dry cleaners had forgotten some kind of tag in the pocket. he’s careful with the boutonniere, trying to make sure he didn’t ruin teddy’s favorite flower resting delicately over the pocket.

an envelope.

he furrows his brow as he pulls it out. that for sure hadn’t been in there before. or at least… he thought he’d have noticed when he pulled it out of the garment bag. the paper crinkles in his hand when he turns it to read it, and then, he smiles.

auggie.

written in a familiar cursive he’s seen a dozen times on post-its, in journals, in love letters. teddy.

he’s careful not to rip it when he opens it, chuckling to himself when he spots the blue paw print sticker on the back. an ode to their ongoing blue’s clues binge when rosie decides she’s over sleeping promptly at 4:07 in the morning.

loving you is my favorite part of waking up every morning. and knowing i’ll get to love you the next day is my favorite part about going to sleep. thank you for taking my hand, and wrecking all of my plans. i wouldn’t have it any other way.

can’t wait to marry you (again!!!)

- ted

yeah. he’s ready now. and would be forever.

__________________

❛ mark. leave a mark on my muse’s body [ specify where ].

working out your history probably wouldn’t end with a purple bruise on your hip bone.

(or it could; it would maybe just lead to a more fun memory than the painful one you’re currently dwelling on)

had you sorted your shit out, you wouldn’t have shown up late at night, dressed (or undressed) in the way you were, to jump into the arms of a married man.

(or you would’ve, except you’d have been his wife, and he’d have been your husband and you would’ve giggled in each other’s arms in the aftermath)

but the purple bruise on your hip bone is angry, a symbol of wanting and taking what doesn’t belong to you, of him having his cake and eating it, too, (literally) even if you’re the one who let him in the first place.

you’re the one who showed up to his restaurant late at night; you’re the one who insisted you talk; you’re the one who found your way onto his lap.

(even if he’s the one whose deep frustration led him to push you onto the desk in his office and find home between your legs, hands gripping your thighs like a lifeline. the red scratches on the side of your right thigh should fade soon; at least the reminder of the band on his finger not having the strength to last as long as the tender skin low on your hip bone.

the secret, wordless brand on your skin is a longer reminder of how much he resents you for leaving him.

or maybe he resents you more for coming back.

then again, he’s the married one, you think selfishly. although, there’s a ring on your finger that makes you a hypocrite since you’d be there soon, too.

had you sorted your shit out, you wouldn’t be staring at a reminder on your bare skin through the mirror. you’d be with him. where you belong.

and he’d be with you, where he belongs.

(but maybe the bullshit ends with you. maybe you’re the one who sorts it by slipping the ring off your finger.)

(and you refuse to be anyone’s secret. and you refuse to have him of all people be yours)

(you just desperately hope he feels the same)

__________________

❛ pin. push my muse against a [ wall, table, other ].

teddy wasn’t even going to have a bachelorette party. she was just planning on grabbing auggie and eloping at the courthouse, wanting nothing more than to just be married to him. but she should’ve known her sisters wouldn’t be able to help herself. even her little siblings bixby and belly, freshly twenty-one, wanted in on the planning.

it’s how she finds herself leading a singalong of four of her siblings, her future siblings in law, her best friends, and fellow patrons while belting “africa” by toto at a karaoke bar, drunk on too many sugary lime mojitos.

there’s a tilted crown on her head that looks too perfectly placed for how tacky it’s actually meant to be, and she’s clumsier than usual, so while the room goes wild, daily has to come to her rescue and help her off the stage when it’s over.

she’s one step down when she spots him, all the way at the back by the bar. her jaw drops and she gasps like she hasn’t seen him in ages though it’s only been a few hours.

her fiancé, her auggie, watching her with his smile like sunshine and cinnamon bun wrinkled forehead. (good lord, she’s drunk) she loves him so much.

(she’s really gonna be his wife. she could cry.)

daily’s calling after her when she clumsily runs away from her and toward his direction, narrowly missing a waitress on her way over. but teddy ignores her, a woman on a mission.

her lips are on his before she even says hi, arms wrapping around his neck and crossing at her forearms. she nudges him back, pinning him up against the corner of the bar, and when he chuckles against her mouth and pulls back to look at her, she grins just as wide.

“sorry to interrupt your big night, i just wanted to—“

she shakes her head and kisses him again. “never, i missed you sooooo much.” this time her smooch is loud, and he laughs wrapping an arm around her waist when he feels her kiss more of the space above this lips than his actual lips.

somewhere behind her, she can hear olive mutter something about it being a bachelorette party, but she doesn’t entirely care. auggie’s here!

“baby,” he mumbles against her mouth, pulling back. “go back to your party. i just wanted to bring you this,” he pulls out her engagement ring from inside his pocket. “i thought you might’ve forgotten it. though i think i should hold on to it for now.”

she pouts, ready to protest, but he grabs her left arm from where it rests at his shoulder, a huge, pink toy diamond ring on her finger. “just until you come home; you’re already covered.” he kisses her cheek three times.

“el—“ she hiccups. “it was eliza’s idea. she said she saw it on one tree hill and was scared i’d lose mine.”

he snorts. “thanks, one tree hill.”

“go ravens.” she giggles and stands on her toes to kiss him. “wanna make out?”

“i think you’ve got that part covered,” he says against her lips, still so very amused at her.

“okay but over there so i can take your pants off,” she slurs, closing the inch of space between them so he’s pinned against the bar counter.

“how about you go have fun, and i’ll wait for you later with no pants.” though he knows a puddle of drunk teddy would end her night in sleep, but he humors her.

she gasps. “can we go now?” and he has to catch her hand before she unbuttons his pants.

“no, olive and allie are already glaring at me for being here,” he tells her and kisses her forehead. “go; i’ll see you at home, okay?”

“…fine. i love you. a lot, a lot. like, to pluto a lot.”

there’s that smile again, big and bright and she all but melts into her boots: “i love you, too.”

as she’s walking away, she turns back to look at him. “i won’t even tell anybody about your whole fake pretest. pretet… pre…” she huffs, tongue tied again:

he laughs. “you caught me.” and with a final wink, she’s finally back with her party, and he’s walking out the door, both hands in his pockets, and his soft grin intact.

__________________

❛ choke. intimately wrap your hands around my muse’s throat.

okay, so it isn’t shocking per se; all the time they spent surviving on stolen moments and making the most of them for so long (before deciding to just say screw it, secrets be damned) had turned into lessons and discoveries.

lessons and discoveries that led them both to understand they were all kinds of kinky.

like how auggie was easily putty in teddy’s hands at the sight of her in any kind of lace. or satin. or leather, and how much she loved how easy it was for her get him to bend at her whim. or teddy being really into being tied up (and tying him up). her affinity for being blindfolded (and blindfolding him)

“i like surprises.” she’d said it at her birthday dinner; herhad eyes met his across the dinner table, knowing he’d know what she meant despite being surrounded by all their friends, none of them any wiser.

there’s auggie’s obsession with going down on her, and the way her legs had a little too much power over him. he was convinced this was why she’d started wearing shorter dresses in his presence. though she’d never admit it.

(it’s how he put two and two together about how having him look, but not touch was a turn on for her, and how she’d put it into practice by having him sit at the edge of her bed while she showed him all the ways she touched herself without him)

marks that scream mine, a slight tug of hair (or two), a hand up her skirt hidden in plain sight was a bit of a power trip, only to be met with bare, wet skin. because two could play at that game.

teddy on her knees. auggie from behind. chasing orgasms in new and exciting ways…

the list went on and on.

so again, finding this out isn’t shocking. a little surprising, considering they thought they’d fully populated the mental list by now. but when she’s pressed into the mattress, and he stops moving in her for a second to help ease her head out of the uncomfortable position it had ended up in, another discovery is made.

she’d winced, and when she’d complained about her head, he’d cupped the back of her neck, and gripped gently to help her get more comfortable. except his thumb puts a little more pressure than intended against her throat in the effort to help her move, and the way her eyes flutter while lips part and she clenches tighter around him gives him pause.

teddy appears a little surprised herself, especially with how her eyes widen when he lets go and she realizes what had just happened. he’s a little blown away, but clearly not as much as she is. but then his brow raises, a silent “really?” appearing on his face with an upward quirk of his lip.

of course, before she can even put together an explanation, her cheeks rouge a deeper shade of red than just a moment earlier to match her averted eyes and bashful expression.

he bows his head to kiss her. a reminder that there’s no need to be embarrassed. not about this, and especially not with him.

(even if the way she usually blushed while turned on, all the way from her face down to her chest, easily made his head spin. the way he could tell the difference was pretty hot, too)

but then auggie slows it down, more deliberate and sensual, and yet a little dirty, his hand eases back onto her neck, fingers and thumb applying careful pressure. he pulls back to look at her. he needs to follow her lead on this one; he won’t do it otherwise. there’s a word for this, too.

teddy’s eyes meet his, a slow nod of consent and trust allow him to keep going. and when those same eyes flutter again, and her lips part, he knows he’s found it. her sweet spot. and then he moves inside her again, picking back up where they left off.

she comes faster than either of them anticipate after that.

lesson #350.

__________________

missed connections… what if we just missed who we were in a past life?

“wait, so you really just told indy you wouldn’t come to her wedding if she didn’t invite me?” teddy laughed, smoothing out the skirt of her dress, soft pink and ending just at her mid-thigh. indigo graff wanted a wedding of whimsy, which meant seventies florals and springtime energy. “you’re her maid of honor! it’s a small wedding.”

olive shrugged, the blonde highlights in her recently cut hair appearing extra glossy while styled in soft beach waves. “she knows i hate our cousins, i absolutely wasn’t getting through this without someone normal. and eliza couldn’t fly back from bali, and you know drew is still stuck in davenport because he’s the worst--”

“he’s not; you love him, and there’s a random springtime blizzard.”

“teddy stop being rational please, i’m being bitter, let me be bitter.” olive straightened out her own dress, the navy color as close to black as indigo would let her go for the day. she wasn’t hating it, or the way it contrasted with her red lipstick. “who plans an entire wedding in two weeks?!”

“okay,” teddy watches her trying to find the fine line between rational and letting olive be olive, but she’s still quite amused about this. “but scarlett is here. and forest is here.”

“forest is taking his photog job way too seriously so after we’re done being bridesmaids he’s gonna go off in search of the perfect wedding candids,” olive rolls her eyes while wrestling with the spandex shorts she’s wearing underneath to get them straight. “and i adore my sister, but scarlett decided she wanted to bring patrick to the wedding, and she adores patrick and will inevitably dump me for him once she’s done bridesmaid-ing. clearly my siblings don’t care about me and my needs..”

“on this day of all days? what a betrayal,” teddy snorts deadpan. “and you told me to bring ivy!” she walks around to help olive finish freshening up.

“i did, i know. but i like ivy. i don’t like patrick.”

“you don’t like anyone.”

“i know that, too,” olive says simply exhaling heavily before taking a look in the mirror. “okay, this is gonna have to do.”

teddy smiles at her through the mirror. “you look beautiful,” she tells her, wrapping both arms around olive’s shoulders and squeezing her tight. “come on, grumpy.”

as they make their way out of the bathroom, her best friend’s sigh makes teddy turn around. “i just can’t believe my big sister’s getting married.” olive’s lip quirks, pride swelling in her chest.

teddy grins. “you’re so cute. let’s get you over to her before all this real emotion goes away,” she teases, leading her out the door, but not before she bumps chest first into someone’s back just beside the door.

“oh!” teddy exclaims, grabbing onto a set or arms to find her balance.

“shit, sorry!”

olive glares, stopping short just before she could bump into teddy. “who stands in front of a bathroom door?!”

“sorry!”

olive looks to teddy. “auggie. fredward’s lame brother. and best man.”

“hi olive,” he shakes his head, seeming more amused at her antics than annoyed. like they’d been through this before. “hi, nice to meet you…”

“teddy,” she motions to herself. “best friend.”

he smiles. “teddy. that’s cute.”

teddy grins. “thank you.”

“don’t flirt with her, she’s taken,” olive interjects and teddy giggles when auggie blushes.

he clears his throat, shooting teddy an apologetic look before turning to olive. “i was looking for you actually. scarlett sent me. indigo’s ready to go.”

“and why didn’t scarlett come get me herself?”

auggie shrugs, but before he can say another word, teddy’s whisking her best friend away.

“come on, oli; it’s showtime, you can yell at your new in-laws later.” teddy shoots auggie a look of amusement and a friendly wave before disappearing down the hall.

the chaos of it all.

#wherein we cope with depression with bad writing at 3 in the morning :)

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