#Owl is tired but v happy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lampmanliveblogs · 4 months

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Happy New Year!

As I’m posting this, the new year has not yet begun in some parts of the world. But it has in mine! So to you unfortunate people still stuck in 2023, I just wanna say ”Hi! Cant wait for you to catch up to the rest of us in the future!”

2023. Twenty-twenty-three. Two-thousand and twenty-three. This year, I gotta say, for me personally has been kinda meh. It wasn’t all that bad I suppose, but it sure could have been a lot better. I’ve had good times, but the greats were not that great, and I’ve had bad times, but the lows were not that low. Towards the end there, I did lose basically all my motivation to do anything but play Stardew Valley.

So yeah, my creativity and spark to create has suffered a lot this year, which has left me with a lot of unfinished projects gathering dust. So for 2024, my New Year’s resolution will be to complete a lot of unfinished business.

First and foremost we have my liveblog of The Owl House and that Vee fanfic I’ve been working on. Then I’m going to finish Winter Heist and then… I have been giving some thought to an old project that’s been left unfinished for years now… a fanfic that I wrote more than 184 000 words for, and yet, despite all that work, it remains incomplete. But… maybe the time has come for me to take another crack at JoJo and the Crystal Gems…

We’ll see, we’ll see. Really, I should not be telling you all this, since research indicates that if you tell people about your goals, you are actually less likely to succeed. Then again, you can’t spell ”success” without ”succ,” and… I’m not sure where I was going with that one, but, uh…

Happy New Year! That’s the important part. Let’s all do our best this year. I’m looking forward to getting back into liveblogging again. Until then, I’ll leave some of what I’ve written for chapter two of that Vee fic under the Keep Reading.

Our lives became a fairy tale Without rules or laws But is there anyone who knows? If the journey has an end?

(Note: The thing with the cards will make a lot more sense when I publish the full chapters.)

(Note: I still haven't settled on an actual title for the fic)

Lamp Entertainment presents…

The night was growing old, but Masha laid wide awake, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the bunk above. They were tired, dead tired, but thoughts buzzed around their head like ten million fireflies, keeping them awake.

Not only were shapeshifters, basilisks, witches, magic, demons, and other worlds real, but shapeshifting basilisks demons from another world filled with magic and witches were real. Masha had spent most of summer sharing a bunk bed with one, just as they were doing now. It was a lot to take in.

Oh, and as it turns out, the story of the Wittebane brothers meeting a witch? It was true. The brothers had met a real witch, a witch that they had followed back to the Demon Realm, the world of demons and witches. Not only that, but old Philip Wittebane was still alive and kicking, turned into a monster and spending the last four centuries working on a plan to exterminate all witches.

That evil, wicked man was the reason Vee was alive. Vee had been… brief in talking about her origins. Masha knew better than to pry too much, and thank Goddess Marco and Samuel did too. Just telling them about her true identity had obviously been very difficult for her, and if there were things she wasn’t ready to tell them yet, then they wouldn’t pressure her.

Even so, what she did tell them did not paint a pretty picture.

”My name, it’s Vee as in V, as in ’five,’” she had explained, holding up two fingers forming a V. Her voice trembled and her gaze lowered, looking at something far, far away from the comfort and safety of her new home. She took a deep, unsteady breath before speaking again. ”I… I am number five. Lab animal number five.”

And all of the sudden it made so much sense why ”Luz” had spent the first few weeks of camp jumping at every sudden sound and always looking over her shoulder. Why she would always sneak out of bed when she thought everyone was sleeping to make sure the door wasn’t locked.

It made Masha’s blood boil. Philip Wittebane better never show his face in Gravesfield again, or so help them…

Something else troubled on Masha’s mind. They reached down on the floor, grabbing the vaguely clothes-shaped pile of fabric that was their discarded costume. The deck of cards was still in the pocket where they left them, still in the same order. The first three cards were still The Two-Headed Snake, The Light, and The Red String.

They shuffled the deck thoroughly and drew the first three cards again.

The Light. The Red String. The Two-Headed Snake.

What was the chances of drawing the exact same three cards? One in a million?

Maybe there was still some magic in them…

Eventually, Masha drifted off to a sleep filled with dreams they couldn’t remember in the morning.

Chapter 2: For the Future (that we can’t see)

Vee woke up early, before the others. Well, it wasn’t that early, it was just past eight in the morning. But considering the late night, it felt early even as the sun shone through the window.

She spent some time just coiled up in bed, enjoying the comfortable warmth under her two blankets. She thought if going back to sleep, but eventually convinced herself that it was time to rise and shine.

The others were still asleep, so Vee climbed down from her bunk as quietly as she could. Easier said than done you had a thick tail instead of two nimble legs. Somehow, she made it down without waking anyone up, though that might have had more to do with the fact that her old cabin mates were exhausted after yesterday.

She noticed a deck of Hexas Hold’em cards lying on the floor. She recalled Masha playing with a deck on the day Luz contacted her from the Demon Realm. Vee couldn’t smell any magic left in them, which meant it was probably the same deck. They must’ve fallen out of Masha’s pocket. She gathered them and put them in a neat stack next to their costume.

She slithered silently out the room, past Samuel and Marco in the guest beds that used to belong to Willow and Amity. The whole thing reminded her of summer camp. She’d often wake up before her cabin mates then too, often sneaking out to enjoy the early morning sun. Masha had called camp prison, but as far as Vee was concerned, her first true sense of freedom had come from that place.

Making it down the stairs was one of those things that was a lot more uncomfortable with a tail than it was with a pair of legs, but Vee decided to stay in her true form for a bit longer. For the longest time, even before she made the decision to tell them, there had been an insistent voice in her head telling her that her friends would find her true form repulsive. It was nice to learn that wasn’t the case.

Oh stars, she could barely believe it. She had told them! She really had told them! Even though the thought had terrified her, she had still gone through with it. And it worked out, they didn’t hate her, they didn’t resent her for deceiving them.

There were some things she hadn’t told them. Things she had only ever told Camila, late one night after she woke up screaming from a nightmare. She wanted the truth to be a happy thing, not marred too much by what had been.

Vee was determined to move beyond her past pain. At times, the darkness made itself known at the back of her head, deep within her lizard brain. But she was getting better and better at pushing back. She had optimism for the future.

First things first though. She needed to call Camila’s work to let them know she was going to need a few days off. Vee, being naturally paranoid and a born liar, had already fleshed out a halfway decent story.

It took some convincing and a little bit of improv, but Vee was eventually (imitating Camila’s voice, of course) able to get Camila’s sudden leave accepted.

Once that was done with, Vee began cleaning up the mess in the living room while contemplating what to do with Luz. Should she take on her appearance and go to school as her again? Or should she call the school and inform Luz wouldn’t be coming for a few days? Both alternatives had its ups and downs. On one hand, Vee actually did like school and learning about the Human Realm. And Luz’ grades really did not need to get any worse. On the other hand, keeping up the deception would add another element of complication. Vee was good, but was she that good?

She mulled over it while cleaning up until she heard movement coming from upstairs. She turned to her friends groggily making their way down the stairs.

”Good morning!” she said cheerfully.

”Wow…” Samuel whispered. ”I was halfway convinced I was dreamt up everything,” he said a little louder.

”Not me, cause I’m not that creative,” Marco said.

”I gotta say, I think it would make for a pretty good story,” Samuel continued. ”A demon fleeing from an evil emperor ends up in the world of the humans, accidentally taking the place of a young girl headed for summer camp… yeah, that’s a good story. Maybe I should write a book about it.”

”Don’t you have like fifty-eleven different fanfics you’re already writing?” Masha teased him. Samuel blushed.

”I do finish some of my fanfics,” he said defensively. ”Unlike my thirteenth favorite fanfic writer, The Lampman. That guy couldn’t finish a fanfic if his life depended on it. ”

”I don’t know who that is, but he sounds like a talentless hack,” Marco said.

”I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Vee said. ”Anyway, here I am, very much real. By which I mean ’real-ly hungry.’ Anyone else want breakfast? I’m starving!”

The others agreed that breakfast would be nice. Vee lead them into the kitchen and began fixing some food. One thing the other Cabin 7 members had noticed about ”Luz” was that the way she’d scarf down her food at every meal like she had never eaten before. Which, based on what they now knew of Vee’s past, sadly made a lot of sense. Though that was not the only thing they had noticed about Luz ’ eating habits.

”You used to choke on your food a lot,” Masha observed. They were absentmindedly playing with the deck of Hexas Hold’em cards. ”Was that because you usually swallow your food whole?”

”Yeah, pretty much,” Vee confirmed while frying up some eggs. ”I do have teeth to chew with if I have to, but I usually don’t. Human throats are a lot less flexible than basilisks and I wasn’t used to it.” To demonstrate what she meant, she took an apple lying on the counter and swallowed it whole, making her throat bulge outward.

”Not gonna lie,” Marco said. ”That was a kinda gross.”

”You should see how I eat eggs then,” Vee chuckled. ”The difficult part is spitting the shell out in one piece.”

”Th-thanks, but I think we’ll skip that one,” Samuel quickly interjected. He looked contemplative for a moment. ”Do you have… is it poison or venom? I can never remember the difference.”

”If I bite you and you die, I’m venomous,” Vee explained. ”But if you bite me and you die, then I’m poisonous. And no, I don’t have venom. Don’t know if I’m poisonous though. I might be.”

”What if I bite myself and I die?” Marco asked. ”What does that make me then?”

”Stupid,” Masha said, prompting a good group laugh.

”No new information there,” Marco said between giggles.

The eggs done, the gang sat down at the table. Sitting on chairs designed for human creatures with things like ”legs” and ”butts” was yet another thing that was a bit awkward for Vee. She’d usually just stand at the table, but she decided to sit down this time. Before she sat down, she grabbed a special jar from one of the cabinets.

It had a homemade label, saying in neat handwriting that it was ”For Vee only.” A second pencil had added a small face making a sick face, to which the first pencil responded that ”I told you so.”

Her friends watched with interest as she took three slices of bread and spread thick layers of jar’s contents on them. It looked like some chocolate spread, but with strange lumps in it.

”What is that?” Masha asked finally. ”Is it some kind of special basilisk food?”

”Uh… kinda?” Vee hesitated. ”It’s nutella, with protein powder and, um… wood chips and sand.”

This was met with wide stares.

”Wood chips… and sand?” Samuel asked, as if to make sure he ha heard it right.

”It’s good for my digestion,” Vee said with a little shrug. ”It was either that, or I keep chewing on twigs I found on the ground. Camila thinks I need a lot of protein, so that’s what the protein powder’s for.”

”And the nutella…?” Masha asked.

”Oh, that’s for taste,” Vee said. Deciding that was enough explanation, she took one the fried eggs and sandwiched it between two bread slices slathered in the cursed nutella. ”I think Demon Realm stomachs are just tougher than human stomachs,” Vee said between bites of her sandwich. ”Luz told me there was a bunch of foods she couldn’t eat in the Demon Realm, but the others didn’t seem to have any problems with anything from here. Well, except for garlic.”

”What, they couldn’t eat garlic?” Masha asked in-between bites of their own sandwich. ”Like vampires?”

”Precisely,” Vee said with a nod.

”Wait, really?” Masha exclaimed, nearly choking on their food. ”Vampires are real? And they can’t stand garlic?”

”Yes,” Vee said, smiling at the funny face Masha was making.

”Oh, so that’s why you had cloves of garlic next to your bed,” Marco said and nodded a little. ”It’s to keep the vampires away.”

”Kinda. There aren’t any vampires in Gravesfield (I hope), but it makes me feel safer to sleep with it,” Vee explained. ”Hunter said that basilisks and vampires used to be natural enemies, since we both feed on witches. Garlic is deadly to vampires, and since a lot of witches have vampire ancestory, a lot of them have inherited a garlic allergy.” Vee smiled at a memory. ”Willow’s and Gus’ weren’t that bad, but Amity’s was really bad. Luz was devastated, because one piece of garlic bread meant no more kisses for the day.”

That image garnered a few laughs.

”I can’t wait for you guys to meet Luz, the real Luz,” Vee said. ”She’s the coolest! Seh fights Belos and doesn’t afraid of anything.”

”Well, I think you’re pretty cool,” Masha said. They reached out to hold Vee’s hand, soft skin skin meeting rough scales. ”My whole life I’ve been looking for signs for the supernatural, for ghosts or demons or what have you… I never dared to believe that I would ever find anything, much less that I would ever become friends with a living, breathing demon!”

Samuel put a hand on Vee’s shoulder.

”And I’m really happy you felt comfortable enough to tell us your secret,” he said. ”I know it couldn’t have been easy. I’m honored you felt you could trust us that much, and I promise you won’t regret it.”

Marco put his hand on Vee’s other shoulder.

”I used to think Cabin 7 was the coolest cabin in Connecticut,” he said. ”Now I know we’re the coolest in the whole world. I mean, who else can say they have a freakin’ shapeshifter as a friend?

”Aw, you guys…” Ve was struggled to hold back tears. She lost that battle, and big warm tears started rolling don her cheeks. ”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she sobbed. ”I wanted to, but I never dared.”

Masha, Samuel, and Marco acted in unison, standing up to embrace Vee in a big group hug.

”Hey, it’s okay,” Masha said. ”We get it. It took me forever to come out to my parents, much longer than it took for you to come out to us. It’s okay, we promise.”

”Th-thanks,” Vee said. She managed to wriggle one arm free to wipe the tears off her face. ”You guys really are the best.”

They stood huddled together for a minute, until Vee felt her love of hugs starting to give way to her fear of being restrained.

”I’m fine, I promise,” she said, trying to wriggle free of the group hug. ”I’m just so happy is all.”

Eventually, the Cabin 7 crew relented with their physical affection and let her go. They had breakfast to finish after all.

The three humans watched with equal amounts fascination and disgust as Vee ate an entire banana, without peeling it. ”The shell doesn’t taste that good, but hey, it’s the inside that counts, right?” she said. And really, who could argue with logic like that?

Her friends had a few more questions about her biology yet.

”Do you shed your skin like a snake?” Samuel asked while helping to gather the dishes.

”Uh-huh,” Vee hummed, putting the dishes in the sink. She decided to be lazy and do them later. ”I actually shed not too long ago. The old skin’s in a box in the basement, if you wanna see it.”

”…that’s a hard pass for me bro,” Marco said. ”Why would you even keep it?”

”What were we supposed to do, throw it out in the garbage?” Vee asked rhetorically. ”You saw how Jacob acted yesterday. After Camila locked him in his own cage, he hasn’t dared to go after us directly. But I don’t think he’s above digging through the trash to find proof there’s a demon living here. As is, everyone thinks he’s a raving lunatic conspiracy nut. Which, to be fair, he is, he just happened to stumble onto the truth this one time.”

The three friends nodded, for the first time realizing just what it would mean if Jacob actually did get proof of demon presence in Gravesfield. The town had a history of witch hunting already, who’s to say the people of today wouldn’t continue the tradition should they learn of Vee’s presence? Not to mention what the government might do to get their hands on an interdimensional traveler.

”It must’ve been incredibly hard for you,” Masha said. ”To have to pretend to be someone else, in a world you know nothing about.”

”It wasn’t always easy,” Vee admitted. ”But… well, it’s kinda what we basilisks do. Disguise, observe, lie, infiltrate, feed, survive… a lot of it was pure instinct. I’m a natural liar.”

Samuel shook his head.

”’Liar’ is a bad word,” he said. ”Very strong, very stigmatized. Say you’re a born actor and a natural talent at improv.”

This made Vee laugh.

”If you say so,” she giggled. She cleared her throat and the next time she spoke, her voice was an exact imitation of Samuel’s. ”A lot of it was instinct. I’m a born actor and a natural talent at improv.”

”You’re so gonna have to help me write my résumé,” Masha said to Samuel, prompting a brief chuckle.

”I’ve been thinking of doing NaNoWriMo this year, so I’ve been practicing how to make sentences longer,” he explained. He then had to spend the next fifteen minutes explaining what that was and deflecting questions his friends had about the novel he was totally going to write.

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sentinelpri · 2 years

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Falling

The sound of falling rain echoes in Saeyoung’s ears as he sits at his computer, brain refusing to work. His headphones are secured over his ears, but the rain clambering on his metal roof makes a cacophony of noise that drowns out that of the music playing. It’s frustrating, but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it; it’s just part of spring creeping into summer. He tries his best to ignore the unwanted, uncontrollable noise and focus on work in front of him to no avail. Briefly, he hears the shuffling footsteps of Saeran in the kitchen.

Maybe he just needs newer, better headphones.

With a huff, he takes the headphones off and leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Since quitting his old job and convincing Vanderwood to come along with him, life has been peaceful. The two men live with Saeran in Seven’s home with all three of them doing different freelance and online security work to make money. Saeyoung is happy to have the people he cares about safe and in one place, but life has become awfully… Boring.

No danger, no physical activity, and hardly any social interaction outside of the RFA chat rooms, Seven is- for the most part- incredibly bored. These days, he mostly just looks forward to making up lost time with Saeran and logging into the RFA chatroom. Life is mundane and repetitive now, but as many complaints as he has about that, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s late enough at night- or, early enough in the morning- that Vanderwood is asleep and Saeran is having his second midnight snack. Zen, Jaehee, and V are probably all asleep as well, and Yoosung is gaming, though he isn’t quite sure of Jumin’s whereabouts. Last he heard, the man was on a business trip in a different country, and though they’d texted sporadically over the past few days, he didn’t know much about what Jumin was doing. When he checked the messenger a few hours ago, he read that Jumin was about to be on a flight back relatively soon.

A small smile graces his lips as he thinks about the businessman. Since the last RFA party, they’ve been talking a lot more; texting, calling. Every once in a while, Jumin will hire Seven to do some work for him. They’re an awkward pair, but in a weird way, Seven thinks they work; their banter in the chat rooms, their phone calls, their joint work, he values all of it.

Right then, his phone starts to ring. He fishes it out of his jeans pocket and sees that it’s Jumin calling, so he decides to answer.

“Jumin? You usually don’t call at this time,” Seven pauses to do a spin in his computer chair, eyes on the ceiling as he holds his phone to his ear. “You must’ve just gotten off your flight! Need me for somethin’?”

“No, I just saw that you were online and decided to call. Are you typically up this late, Seven?”

“Ha, yeah, I guess you could call me a bit of a night owl! Crime only happens in the night, after all, and that’s when you’d need The Defender Of Justice the most!”

“Statistically, a lot of crimes are more likely to happen during the daytime.”

“Jeez, okay, Mr. walking encyclopedia!” Seven laughs and rolls his eyes. “Headed home right now, I’m assuming?”

“No, actually, Driver Kim is transporting me to V’s to pick up Elizabeth 3rd as we speak, but I will be headed home after that.”

“I’m happy to hear that! Should mean that you’ll be getting some well deserved rest, and in the morning, we can hash out that catbot idea I brought up to you in the chat room earlier!”

“Yes, yes,” Jumin responds with a chuckle, and Seven can just hear his smile over the phone. For whatever reason, it makes his heart flutter. “When are you going to get some rest? Or do you have work to finish?”

“Don’t you know? Justice never rests, Juju!”

“Stop calling me that.”

“In all seriousness, though, I’m not tired at all yet! I do have some stuff I could stand to be working on, but for some reason, I just can’t focus tonight… I’ll probably be up a bit.”

“I see… Don’t deprive yourself of sleep. It will alter your productivity… Or, if you care more about physical matters, it’s bad for your skin. Zen always claims that these late night to early morning hours are when your skin replenishes itself.”

“Since when have you listened to what Zen says?”

“Don’t misconstrue my words; I’m not having a change of heart regarding Zen,” Jumin mutters. Seven imagines his expression; cheeks dusted red and gaze askew. “Just offering you a different perspective about, er… The importance of a good night’s sleep.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

“Your dreadful sleeping habits aside, is it raining where you’re at as well?”

“You know it,” Saeyoung answers. As rain is falling on his roof, the same rain is falling on the windows of Jumin’s limousine, and they’re under the same sky. The sliver of warmth he feels in his chest at that thought is something he chooses to ignore in favor of talking to Jumin. “Can’t stand this kind of weather, to be honest.”

“Is that so? I find it quite peaceful. Why aren’t you fond of it?”

“Too loud!”

“For someone as loud as yourself, that’s quite the claim.”

“I know, I know, but there’s a difference between controlled noise and uncontrolled noise, y’know? I like loud music and I like being loud because I can control it and turn it off whenever I want! Rain just… Keeps on going. It doesn’t stop when I want it to, can’t turn it on and off. Get what I mean?”

“I suppose so. It makes sense when you explain it like that.”

“Am I the first one you called?”

“Yes,” Jumin answers without hesitation, pauses for a few seconds too long, and then continues. “I’m not sure why, but you’re the first person I thought of… I hope you don’t mind. I suppose I should’ve texted you first to make sure it was alright.”

“Oh, it’s no problem! Are you almost at V’s?”

“Yes, actually, I should hang up now.”

“Okay, tell Elly I said hello! Give her tons of hugs and kisses for me!”

“Goodnight, Seven. Sleep well, whenever you do… And take care.”

“Yeah, you too…”

Saeyoung realizes something is very, very wrong when he notices that he feels like something is missing at the end of the call. He opens his mouth to say ‘I love you’ without even thinking about it, but before he can out himself, Jumin hangs up on him, and it’s then that he processes the reality of what he almost just revealed.

I love you.

Oh. Oh, no.

It explains so much, and yet, he doesn’t understand it- rather, he doesn’t want to understand it. Deep down, he’s been aware that his relationship with Jumin is far from normal for a long time. They started out as nothing more than acquaintances through V, and over time, they developed something special. For every time Jumin banters with him in the group chat when the other RFA members are logged on, and for every time Jumin scolds him for putting himself into bad situations, he’s sure to also receive a picture of Elly or a warm phone call.

And maybe they aren’t best friends, but they’re something, and that’s always been enough for Seven- at least until now. Now, his feelings, his love, his attraction, his admiration; all these things he’s ignored and pushed down over the years are resurfacing, and he’s drowning in them. They’re bubbling up in his lungs, and suddenly, he can’t breathe.

He doesn’t have enough experience to handle the feelings on his own, and everyone is a disaster. So, as he holds his head in his hands, he figures he’ll continue doing what he’s been doing for years anyways.

Push the feelings deep down and hope they never resurface. Never say a word of it to anyone, avoid Jumin for dear life, and pray to God that this all returns to the back of his mind without him having to force it to do so.

“What did you do?”

Seven nearly jumps out of his chair and drops his phone in the process at the sound of Vanderwood’s voice. His phone falls on the floor with a horrid clattering sound that makes him flinch. Fearful, he looks up to see Vanderwood standing in the doorway of the hall that connects to the room in which he works.

“Who said I did anything? You just scared the shit out of me!” He laughs in an attempt to calm himself down, heart racing.

“You’re making the face,” Vanderwood points out with a yawn. He’s dressed head to toe in cheetah print pajamas and matching houseshoes, and his light brown hair is even messier than usual. “And don’t try to deny it. We both know you always make that same face when you fuck something up.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right, but you have nothing to worry about! It doesn’t pertain to you, anyhow, it’s just a personal issue,” At that, Vanderwood quirks an eyebrow and gives him a very specific look of judgmental disbelief, so he continues. “Really! C’mon, dude, I’m a big boy, I can solve my own problems-”

“You can’t even make your bed, operate a washer or dryer, wash your own dishes, use a vacuum, or-”

“You don’t need to remind me,” Seven snaps.

“You sure you’re good? Don’t need my help with anything?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Seven nods a little too enthusiastically.

“If you say so.”

“What are you doing up this late?”

“Just getting water, duh,” Vanderwood spits the words like Seven’s question was ridiculous, then tapers off to the kitchen, footsteps practically inaudible.

Seven just sighs and shakes his head.

“What to do now…”

~~~

A week passes after that. While still active in the RFA chat rooms, Seven has been avoiding Jumin; not answering his calls, barely responding to his DMs, and leaving the chat room around the times that the other man usually logs on. It hasn’t helped with his feelings at all. If anything, the amount that he misses Jumin is unnatural, and it’s only making things much, much worse. However, he doesn’t plan on stopping- he’s already too deep, he thinks.

“Yo, Seven, you good?” Yoosung speaks, gently bumping his shoulder. Seven looks at the younger man to see that his violet eyes are filled with a mixture of concern and frustration. “You’ve been spacing out this whole game!”

Yoosung’s exclamation snaps him back to reality, and he looks at the blond to his right, then at Saeran, who is sitting to the left. It’s their biweekly LOLOL night, and while it’s usually his time to socialize and have fun, he can’t bring himself to pay attention. They’re playing 3v3, each with a laptop in front of them, and Seven has died at least four different times.

“Just fine, thanks!”

“How convincing,” Saeran muses with a roll of his seafoam eyes, then turns to talk to Yoosung like Saeyoung isn’t sitting right between them. “Obviously, something’s up with him, he just doesn’t care to say what it is.”

“C’mon, Saeran, you’re looking too much into it. Really, I’m fine!” Saeyoung insists, only to then die again.

Saeran and Yoosung both groan. They’re losing the match so badly that it’s sure to tank their current rankings in the event.

“You may be fine, but your gaming isn’t! You totally suck right now, man,” Yoosung complains and hurriedly slams some buttons on his keyboard. Seven is just surprised he hasn’t broken the damn thing yet. “You’re tanking us!”

“Yeah, your mind is obviously somewhere else,” Saeran sighs, healing both Yoosung and Seven, only for the round to end a few seconds later. Unsurprisingly, the margin between their team and the other one borders on being embarrassing. “Why not just take a break and come back to it after clearing your head?”

Seven doesn’t really want to stop playing, because if he does, that means he’s going to be alone again- alone with his thoughts. But, when he looks at Yoosung and Saeran’s faces, it’s clear that they don’t want him there if he’s just going to be distracted the whole time.

“Okay… If you guys say so,” Seven shrugs and shuts his computer off. “Have fun, I guess.”

Before he can even do anything, Saeran and Yoosung quickly stand up, computers in hand. Quick footsteps are heard on the wooden floor as the two retreat to Saeran’s bedroom. Then, the door is audibly locked. Seven lets out a huff and goes over to his work station, only to notice movement on the cameras. To his horror, Jumin is at his front door, trying to get in. The red-head turns the audio on as he cringes.

On one hand, he’d been hoping to just avoid Jumin forever, but on the other hand, he’s flattered that Jumin has taken the time to come see him after a long day at work.

“What exactly is this security system of yours? It’s baffling,” Jumin complains as he stands there with crossed arms, clearly frustrated with the automated voice telling him the passcode sentence is in Cantonese- a language that he obviously doesn’t know.

“Oh, c’mon, Juju,” Saeyoung teases with a cackle through the microphone that connects to the camera outside. “You don’t know how to ask to go to the bathroom in Cantonese? I thought someone as well versed as you would-”

“Let me in or I’m leaving.”

He isn’t sure why he does it considering that he’s been avoiding Jumin for a week now and planned to keep it up, but he unlocks the door through his security system and allows Jumin inside before closing it again. He’s alerted of Jumin’s presence by slow, light footsteps in his living room, which has him turning around in his swivel chair to face Jumin with a smile…

Only for that smile to drop immediately at the sight of the man in front of him.

Saeyoung wants to light his body on fire and the world along with it when he thinks about the convoluted sort of crush that he’s developed. ‘Crush’ is a mild and juvenile term to use for it, really, but he’s afraid if he labels the big, bad feelings as something more serious, they’ll only get worse- hell, Saeyoung already thinks having these sorts of feelings for Jumin in the first place is the worst thing in the world. He’ll go through phases where he tells himself it’s a manifestation of his loneliness and nothing more, only to see Jumin like this and be reminded that it’s very much genuine and that there’s no escaping it.

And yes, he’s learned that holding onto love so tightly only makes it hurt more in the end when it slips from between his fingers, but he can’t help it; he’s afraid of too much of it slipping out and being known, because he can’t stand to be known, to be vulnerable. So, when he loves someone else, whether it be his family or his friends, he holds onto that love so tight that it makes his hands bleed. He’s self-aware and always has been- he just doesn’t care about himself enough to change his bad habits.

He takes a step back and wrings his hands together as he tries to think of some sort of joke to ease the tension in the air. When he opens his mouth, though, nothing comes out, because all he can do is stare and he hates himself for it.

Jumin Han is pretty. He has soft, pleasant features that are always twisted into sharp, pointed expressions. Delicate, thin lips. A rounded jaw and chin. Deep grey eyes adorned with fluttering lashes and low set brows. Feathery, wispy, long obsidian locks of hair that frame every inch of his face perfectly and tickle the back of his narrow neck and the lobes of his reddened ears. He’s a little taller than Saeyoung, so he towers over the redhead when they stand too close. Just looking at the man is enough to make his mouth go dry.

To Saeyoung, Jumin is the calm to his chaos; the water to his fire, the moon to his tides, the grounding hands that hold his own when they’re shaking… Not that Jumin ever actually holds his hands. As always, Saeyoung keeps a reasonable distance.

“You know, Saeyoung,” Jumin speaks, uncharacteristically casual as he paces around the room. Each time he passes where Saeyoung is sat in his computer chair, he runs a pale hand over the redhead’s shoulders. The unexpected touch makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but whatever thrill he might’ve felt from it is killed by the tone Jumin takes with him when speaking his following words. “I’ve learned quite a bit in the years I’ve worked for my father’s company, and in what I’ve learned, I’ve developed a talent for reading the people around me.”

It’s an awkward approach, but it’s direct, not as stiff or as guarded as conversations with Jumin tend to be. The realization that this is a personal conversation rather than a work-related one fills the hacker with terror. It becomes very apparent very quickly that Jumin is not talking to 707, nor is he talking to the infamous cat abuser, defender of justice, LOLOL champion, or any of the other personas that he’s built- no, he’s talking to Saeyoung .

“Yeah, haha,” Oh, God. Saeyoung swears his voice cracks at the end of his laugh, as if he doesn’t already sound strained enough. For just a few moments, when he thinks Jumin isn’t looking he allows himself to cringe. Why is it so much easier to type random bullshit on a keyboard and do funny voices over the phone than it is to talk in person? Why can’t he just be normal when he needs to the most? Why is he suddenly so anxious? “Don’t tell me your magical, godly, brilliant ability to read your investors has something to do with why you came over today! Are you finally going to use my catbot companion idea for your company? Is that why you wanted to visit me so suddenly? I know it’s a great concept, but it’s pretty late-!”

“There’s a difference between your genuine humor and your defensive humor, and you unfortunately are trying to distract me from why I came here with the latter,” Jumin suddenly cuts off his nervous rambling with a sharp interjection and an equally sharp glare.

“Defensive humor?” Saeyoung laughs, his face burning a shade that’s almost as dark as his hair. In an attempt to pretend like he isn’t totally fucking dying inside, he turns back to his computer and opens Tetris to start a game of it. Perhaps, fueled by his humiliation and fear, Saeyoung can beat his top score. He sits there shakily stacking blocks on blocks with the arrow keys on his ergonomic keyboard, waiting for Jumin to respond. And honestly, he knows Jumin well enough to know that this is a mind game the ravenette plays with people- simply waiting for a silence awkward enough that they’ll talk themselves into their own graves, talk themselves into corners that they can’t get out of- but he plays it regardless, because how can he resist? It’s in his programming to try to talk himself out of confrontation, and Jumin knows that. “I don’t really understand! I tell you and the others everything, y’know? Like how I write fanfiction about my LOLOL character, or about that one time V had to drive me to urgent care because I leaned too far back in my chair and fell out and hit my head-!”

Seemingly tired of his nonsensical efforts to defend aforementioned ‘defensive humor’, Jumin stops right behind the younger man and puts a firm hand on his bare shoulder. The feeling of the ravenette’s cool skin against his makes Saeyoung short circuit momentarily. Within the span of a few seconds, all the blocks in his Tetris game pile up, leaving him with a pathetic score of 1,236.

“Do you take me for a fool?”

“No, of course not, ” Saeyoung objects just a little too quickly, shrugs Jumin’s hand off of his shoulder, stands up, and turns around to face the older man. They’re just a little too close- so close that he can smell the remnants of wine, expensive cologne, and lavender shampoo- and surprisingly, Jumin doesn’t care to put a gap in between them. Instead, the ravenette stands there with a firm look and crossed arms. “I just don’t know what you’re getting at-!”

“Bullshit-” Jumin raises his voice.

“Jumin, you need to be quiet or Sae and Yoosung are gonna hear you- they’re both here!”

“My apologies for raising my voice when you have company, but you have to understand my frustrations… And you won’t admit it on your own, so I’ll help you out; you’re avoiding me.”

“I would never! How could I stand to avoid you? I wouldn’t be able to see my dearest Elly, after all!”

Saeyoung pauses, expecting Jumin to snap at him about calling his beloved cat Elly yet again.

Jumin does no such thing.

So, Saeyoung quickly realizes that his go to defense mechanism isn’t working and dissolves into complete and utter panic. He’s shaking, struggling to talk, wringing his hands together, and worst of all, he can’t maintain eye contact. All he does is stare at the floor.

“You’re worrying me,” Jumin finally says, a bit softer now.

“Ah, you really don’t need to do that,” Saeyoung manages to pull it together by dropping the shield of 707 momentarily. He wonders if he acts serious about this for a few moments, he can convince Jumin that he’s telling the truth. “I appreciate you coming here to check on me and everything, but I’m not avoiding you; I’ve just been busy with work and everything-”

“Busy with work? I guess that’s why you hosted a game night here with Yoosung and Saeran tonight… Or why you went drinking with Zen the other day, or met Jaehee for coffee a week or so ago. Are you under the impression that I don’t pay attention to your whereabouts?” Jumin looks away, his face ridden with an emotion Saeyoung can’t decipher. The red-head stares down at the ground and bites the inside of his cheek. “As a member of the RFA, your life is very important to me.”

“Well, you’re here, and I’m fine,” Seven sighs, shaky. All the possibilities start running through his head. Is Jumin mad at him? Or worse, has Jumin figured out his secret? Has it been obvious the whole time? “That’s what you came for, right?”

“You’re being defensive again- just trying to get me to stop so you don’t have to come to terms with the consequences of your own actions. I didn’t want to have to say this, but, while I understand that I’m not entitled to your time… The fact that you’ve been leaving right as I enter the chatroom and ignoring all of my calls and most of my texts has been eating at me over the past few weeks. Did I do something to upset you?”

“No, not at all! Really, I haven’t been avoiding you on purpose, Jumin, I’ve just been busy and it’s not like we talk much or hang out in the first place-”

“Well, maybe I want to, Saeyoung,” The words are rushed and have an edge to them, unlike anything the redhead has heard from the man before tonight. “There was this brief period of time where I thought we were getting along quite well; this span of a few months where we were talking so regularly that, when you dropped off the face of the planet the way you did, it stung. For the first few days, I almost thought our newfound bond was a figment of my imagination, but- ah, never mind… It doesn’t matter.”

Saeyoung blinks, golden eyes snapping up to meet the deep grey ones in front of him. Jumin’s cheeks are burning red enough that it makes Saeyoung think that his feelings might actually be reciprocated.

“Wh… What? What are you trying to say, Jumin?”

“Maybe I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Jumin reaches forward and gestures with his hand for Seven to hand him his glasses, so he does. The corporate heir takes them in his delicate hands and uses the soft purple handkerchief in his breast pocket to clean the lenses before handing them back. Fumbling with his hands, Seven barely manages to get the glasses back on his face. His vision is a lot better now. He isn’t sure when the last time he cleaned his glasses prior to that was. “...And maybe you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Well, what’s there to talk about?” Saeyoung raises an eyebrow, forces a smile, and defensively folds his arms. “Unless you really are here for my catbot idea, that is-”

“No,” Jumin pinches the bridge of his nose, gorgeous eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. “It’s more complicated than that. I’d rather not say. I just… This isn’t going anywhere, but are you alright? I suppose that’s all that matters to me right now. I’ve been worried sick about you for a week now.”

“I’m more than alright,” Seven says, and it’s a lie that comes easily, one that he’s told too many times. It’s easy to tell that Jumin doesn’t believe him, but he keeps going. “No need to worry about me!”

“If you say so… I’ll be headed home, then; I’d hate to leave Driver Kim waiting.”

“Okay,” Seven nods, debates on telling Jumin to text him when he’s back at his penthouse, then decides against it. He figures Jumin will notify him by logging back into the chatroom when he’s home, anyway. “See ya later!”

“Yes, indeed… Take care, Saeyoung.”

Jumin doesn’t say or do anything else, doesn’t even look at Saeyoung. Instead, he swiftly turns around and leaves, quiet footsteps echoing through the house. When the front door shuts and locks, instead of letting out a sigh of relief, tears well up in Saeyoung’s eyes.

“Damn… Why am I missing him so soon?”

For once, he’s not hurt by the fact that Yoosung and Saeran have once again left him alone to do their own thing and forgotten about him. Instead, it has him feeling grateful that he has a moment to himself to cry. He lets the tears pour down his cheeks as he double checks his security system to make sure that the cameras are still working and all the doors in the house are locked.

Maybe he needs to rethink his strategy. Maybe, if he stops avoiding Jumin and pretends that everything is normal, things will be normal again.

Yeah, that’ll work, he tells himself.

Forcing a smile and drying the tears, Seven goes to his room and sits down on the edge.

‘Tomorrow will be better.’

~~~

Tomorrow- or, today now- is not, in fact, better. Saeyoung wasn’t able to sleep and is now sitting in the kitchen with a depressing breakfast of celery sticks and peanut butter. While he initially appreciated the deafening silence for the first couple hours after Yoosung snuck out the backdoor at 5AM, it’s gotten to a point where the intrusive thoughts are now too much. And yet, he can’t bring himself to make them stop. He just sits there with bags under his eyes, full of celery, peanut butter, coffee, and self-doubt- at least until the sound of Saeran’s soft footsteps snap him out of it.

“What…” Saeran trails off as he sits across from Seven at the table with a bowl of ice cream- one scoop of vanilla, one scoop of mint, one scoop of chocolate, and one scoop of salted caramel- only a fraction of the ungodly amount of ice cream they have in the freezer. It’s not the most nutritious breakfast, but the redhead doesn’t have the energy to say anything- mostly due to the fact that he was up all night stressing out about Jumin. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you’re eating real food, which you never do,” Saeran starts, pointing at Seven’s breakfast of champions; celery sticks and peanut butter, which he’s been sitting at the table eating on and off for the past three hours bemidst his quarter-life (?) crisis. “You didn’t sing in the shower this morning like usual and it definitely doesn’t help that you look like you slipped in shit and got ran over… Or something. You haven’t looked like this much of a wreck since I was in that mental hospital, man.”

“Listen, it’s not important, Saeran,” Seven sighs, finishes the last bit of celery stick, and closes the peanut butter container as he thinks back to the shower he took this morning- the first one in a few days. He scrubbed as hard as he could, but nothing could seem to make the feelings wash away like he hoped. “I’ve just been really busy.”

“Saeyoung,” The other man deadpans and blows the locks out of his face. They’re white at the ends, pink in the middle, and red at the roots. “You think I’m fuckin’ stupid or something?”

“I never said that! I just-”

“Dude. You’ve been a wreck for a week and you haven’t been working at all for days, so don’t try to bullshit me. I know how you operate.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say here.”

In an attempt to distract himself, Seven stands up to put the peanut butter back in the pantry. He fully intends on walking out of the kitchen so he can lock himself in his bedroom for the rest of the day, but before he can, Saeran speaks up again between bites of ice cream.

“What I want is for you to tell me what’s up.”

“I’ve… Caught feelings for someone,” Saeyoung worries his inner lip and takes a good, long look at his brother from where he’s standing in front of the fridge, his back leaned against the cold metal now. Considering what Saeran has already been through over the past- well, his entire life- Seven isn’t sure that venting to him is the best idea at first, but it’s such a trivial issue compared to everything else that they’ve been through that he doesn’t end up thinking better of it. After all, if he continues trying to dodge the subject, Saeran is bound to pester him until he fesses up. “And it’s been bothering me because I don’t know what to do.”

“Really? Just shove them deep down into the abyss and pretend they don’t exist like the rest of us.”

“Gee, thanks, I hadn’t thought of that,” Seven shakes his head and laughs, and Saeran laughs along with him for a moment. “No, but seriously, I already tried that and it didn’t work. Things have just gotten worse between us.”

“Never thought I’d see you in love. Are they an alien? Some kind of weirdo? A cat? Can I get a name?”

While the implication that Saeyoung is such a peculiar man that he’s incapable of having a romantic dynamic with a normal human is somewhat hurtful, he ignores it in favor of deciding whether or not he should give an honest answer, then comes to the conclusion that Saeran doesn’t care much about his love life past being concerned about him nor does Saeran benefit by telling anyone that would let the news get back to Jumin.

“Uh… Jumin Han.”

“I didn’t realize it was April Fools,” The younger man deadpans. “Got a calendar on your phone I can look at?”

“It’s not a joke, Saeran- trust me, I wish it was, I really do, but it’s not.”

“Oh, wow… You’re really into Jumin like that?” Saeran pauses, raises an eyebrow, and finishes the rest of his ice cream. Awkward silence fills the room as Seven’s throat and chest tighten with anxiety. Admittedly, even he can admit that Jumin isn’t the most conventional choice, one that he will undoubtedly get shit for. The corporate heir is inconsiderate, unsympathetic, closed-minded, stiff, cold, and has both a questionable sense of humor and a tendency to throw copious amounts of money at all his problems. “I didn’t even know he was your type.”

“Shit, man,” Saeyoung rests his elbows on the kitchen counter, holds his head in his hands, and gives a sardonic smile. “Neither did I.”

“Good luck,” Saeran stands and takes his bowl to the sink to rinse it out, but he doesn’t wash it nor does he wash his spoon, simply leaving the dishes for Vanderwood to bitch about later. “But if I could give you some advice, why not just rip the bandaid off and tell him? Maybe he likes you back, and if he doesn’t, it’s better to get the rejection out of the way right now than to wait a few years and have it hurt more.”

“Honestly, I never plan on telling him, and I doubt he likes me back.”

“That discussion I overheard last night tells me otherwise. I didn’t know what the hell you two were going on about at first, but now that I have the context, I think I understand. You were just avoiding him because you like him.”

“You were eavesdropping on us!?”

“No, the two of you just talk really fuckin’ loud. Yoosung heard it, too, and he was just as confused as I was. I don’t know what you thought was going to happen with you having an intimate discussion in the middle of the living room that brazenly when my room is right at the beginning of the hallway, dumbass,” Saeran scolds him whilst also putting a reassuring, awkward hand on one of his shoulders. “You’re especially lucky that Vanderwood wasn’t here.”

“Oh,” Seven winches at that thought, aware that had Vanderwood been awake and present, he wouldn’t have hesitated to embarrass both him and Jumin by barging into the living room and “Well, whatever it was you heard last night doesn’t make anything concrete. And even if he does have feelings for me, I’m not going to say anything.”

“Why not? It’s better than sitting around pining over the guy.”

“So what if he does want me back? Then what? A relationship between us wouldn’t work, just think about it. His father wouldn’t approve of it, which is a huge deal for him and his business, and I can’t be in the public I because of…” Saeyoung stops himself. The Prime Minister died months ago from a sudden heart attack, but he’s still hesitant to be seen in the public eye. Maybe his father is long gone, but there are other people after him who aren’t, and more importantly, Jumin’s career would be at stake. “It would be impossible for Jumin and I to function as a healthy couple without putting both myself and you in serious danger. Don’t you understand?”

“You’re Saeyoung Choi, 707, Defender Of Justice, aren’t you? You’d make it work if you really wanted it to,” Saeran shrugs, then turns away and begins to walk out of the kitchen, only to stop in the doorway and look back at him. “I think you’re just scared of opening up to someone and not being able to take it back if things don’t work.”

“Well, what if I say something and it doesn’t work out? What then?”

“If you go in with that mindset, then it’s not going to work out. Try to be positive about yourself for once. It’s better to get rejected and have some chance of moving on than to sit around and suffer, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think moving on is as easy as you think it is,” Saeyoung argues.

“What would you say if it were me instead of you?”

“Dammit, don’t put it like that!” He exclaims and crosses his arms over his chest, averting his brother’s prying gaze. He’s suddenly reminded of just last night when Jumin got past his walls in exactly the same way, and he wonders if he’s not good at hiding like he used to be- or, better yet, if he was never good at hiding at all. “That isn’t fair- it’s different for you.”

“How so? We look the same, we’re in similar positions, we have a lot of the same issues. How is it different?” Saeran zeroes in on him, and he can’t come up with a good response. “That’s what I thought. You don’t have anything to say because it’s not different, you’re just blowing it out of proportion because it’s you and you hate yourself, so you self-sabotage. If it were anyone else in your situation, you would tell them to make a move, but because it’s you, you don’t want to, right?”

“Okay, okay, I get it! Jeez, dude, when did you become such a therapist?”

“When did you become such an idiot?” Saeran counters with a roll of his mint-hued, contact-covered eyes.

“Look, it’s more complicated than you realize-”

“Ah, I’ve gotta go. Zen and Jaehee are here,” Saeran mutters as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen. Now that Saeyoung is paying attention, it’s obvious that Saeran is dressed up more than usual; a casual button-up, jeans, and sneakers. It’s quite a bit different than his typical househoes, sweats, and the sweater that hasn’t been washed in weeks. “See ya later.”

“Woah, wait, where are you going with Zen and Jaehee all of a sudden? Why didn’t you let me know earlier?”

“Uh, we’re just going to go pick Yoosung up and get breakfast with him since he has a couple finals to take later. I thought you knew…?”

“Why wasn’t I invited?” Saeyoung questions, feelings a bit hurt.

“You were. It was brought up a few days ago in the messenger, but you weren’t online because you were busy avoiding Jumin, so you didn’t respond,” Saeran scratches the back of his neck, looks at the ground, then looks back up at Saeyoung. “You can still come if you want, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“You didn’t mention Jumin. Why isn’t he going?”

“He had a meeting or something… You can still come if you want,” The younger man offers with a shrug, to which Saeyoung shakes his head and gives a dismissive wave of one of his hands.

“Y’know, I think I’m good! Have fun!”

“Then I’m headed out.”

“Be safe, I love you!”

“Yeah, you too,” Saeran heads out of the kitchen, only to pop his head back into the room to give Saeyoung a playful glare and a warning. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

All Saeyoung can do is smile and call out as Saeran starts to leave; “No promises!”

~~~

Later that night, Saeyoung is glad that he did not make Saeran any promises before he left.

He’s huddled up on the couch, wrapped in a plethora of fluffy blankets with his phone on the lowest possible brightness as he lurks in the chatroom. While not saying anything, he simply reads the interactions between Zen, Yoosung, Jaehee, and Jumin as they progress. The former three are telling the latter about their breakfast earlier that morning, while Saeran and Vanderwood are offline and in their rooms fast asleep.

Every time a message from Jumin pops up on the screen, Seven’s stomach twists in the best way possible. And, for the first time, he allows that feeling to possess him- smiles at it, even. His heart is beating hard and slow within the confines of his chest as a warm, fuzzy feeling takes over him.

Jumin Han: It sounds like you all had fun. I’ll have to attend next time.

Yoosung★: You should come with us next time!

ZEN: No, he shouldn’t lol

Jumin Han: Why not?

ZEN: Jaehee shouldn’t have to see you more than she already does

Jaehee Kang: …I have no comment on the matter.

ZEN: Exactly!

ZEN: But I won’t say anymore, don’t wanna get Jaehee in trouble

Jaehee Kang: I appreciate that ^^’

Jumin Han: Your opinions don’t affect Assistant Kang’s job performance, Zen.

ZEN: I can feel you being butthurt from here dude

Yoosung★: btb lplol is callonf!1!

Deciding to make his presence known, Seven starts to type.

707: Translation; brb lolol is calling!!!

Yoosung★ has left the chatroom.

Jumin Han: I’m not butthurt.

707: Well, Juju, since neither of us got to go today- we can always do our own thing together! (; Meow

Right below his first message, Seven sends one of the many cat photos he has in his gallery, knowing that it’s bound to make Jumin smile.

ZEN: What the hell dude!? You’ve been lurking for ten minutes and the first thing you do when you finally decide to talk is send a pic of some fur ball while flirting with the freaking trustfund kid?

707: It wasn’t flirting!

Jumin Han: Meow.

Jumin follows the message with a picture of Elizabeth 3rd, and then an outdated meme with a cat in it that he sends every once in a blue moon.

Jaehee: Pleases be careful, Zen has a very important performance tomorrow… T_T

ZEN: Yeah, I can already feel the congestion! You’re making my allergies act up ):<

ZEN: You’ve been running rampant since Seven disappeared last week!

Jumin Han: False.

Jaehee Kang: Excuse me.

Jaehee Kang has left the chatroom.

ZEN: Ugh, you two are so annoying sometimes! You better pray for my sinuses

ZEN has left the chatroom.

Jumin Han: …Ah. That was quick.

Jumin Han: And then there were two… Call me.

Jumin Han has left the chatroom.

Saeyoung only sighs. Jumin didn’t even give him the chance to respond, so he figures he has no choice.

707 has left the chatroom.

Gathering his courage, Seven calls Jumin for the first time in a week, and he isn’t surprised when he receives an immediate answer.

“Yo, why’d you have me call you so suddenly?” He asks, fidgeting where he sits on his couch. Even with the static of the phone call filling one ear, the sound of rain falling outside yet again is audible. It’s the fourth heavy storm they’ve had in the past week; a telltale sign of spring transitioning into summer. “Everything good?”

“What, is it wrong for me to want to talk to you?” Jumin’s voice echoes on the other end, smooth and low and reeking of sleep.

“Not at all, it just caught me off guard after… Well, you know,” Albeit uncomfortably, he references the confrontation between the two of them from the night before.

“Ah, yes… Well, that’s something we can sweep under the bridge, but that aside…” Jumin trails off. Nerves begin to bubble up in Saeyoung’s chest as he sits there in silence, waiting for Jumin to speak again. “You flirting with me. Quite a ridiculous concept from Zen, hm?”

Saeyoung’s heart drops in his chest. He didn’t think that Jumin would say anything about it, let alone so openly. The implication that it’s ‘ridiculous’ makes Seven frown at first, but then he forces a smile and tries his best to play it off.

“Haha, yeah… Totally ridiculous!” Seven laughs along with Jumin, who is now chuckling. There’s an embarrassing sort of tension between them that he’s struggling to ease with no success. “He’s always had some weird ideas, though, don’t ‘cha think? Like those prophetic dreams of his!”

“Yes, of course…”

He expects Jumin to continue, but no such thing happens. It’s just eerily quiet.

“Why is it so quiet all of a sudden?” He mumbles after a few moments too long. “I feel a bit awkward.”

“It’s just one of those nights, I suppose, but I don’t mind silence as long as it’s with you… I think we’ve always had that sort of comfortableness with each other, if you understand what I mean,” Seven’s jaw goes slack. He doesn’t even know how to respond. Is there a chance that Jumin likes him back? He considers it briefly before deciding that no, it’s too good to be true… They’re just really good friends, right? Because while Jumin is practically perfect in each and every way, Saeyoung considers himself the opposite. “...I’m sorry. Was that too direct?”

“N-No! I appreciate it, really, I just- what do you mean by that exactly?”

“What do you believe I meant?”

Saeyoung doesn’t answer- no, he can’t answer, fire roaring in his chest and in his throat as his heart beats a mile a minute. Once again, Jumin has backed him into a familiar corner that he has to talk himself out of.

“...Never mind,” He clears his throat and wraps his blankets tighter around himself. “How was your meeting this morning?”

“Just fine. I proposed that catbot idea of yours and got shot down by my father, but it was worth a try.”

“Heh, you really liked it that much?”

“I loved it.”

“Well, I’m flattered!”

“Are you going to bed soon?”

Seven’s eyebrows furrow at that. He wonders if Jumin is asking to gauge how much time they have left to talk or if Jumin is asking for some other reason he doesn’t know about yet.

“Mm, probably not,” Seven yawns and rubs his eyes under his glasses, thinking about last night- thanks to that incident with Jumin, he didn’t get so much as a second of sleep. He’s tired now, so tired that he’s barely able to stay awake. “I haven’t been able to sleep that well lately.”

“Would you mind if I dropped by?”

“By my house? Again?” Saeyoung says without really thinking about it. “What for?”

“Just to see you. It seems as if neither of us are going to be asleep anytime soon anyways.”

“Okay, sure,” Saeyoung agrees even though he knows that, were Jumin to hang up and go to bed, he would do the same. He gets up with the blankets still wrapped over his shoulders to pace around the living room. “Why not? Come on over, Juju.”

He expects to get scolded for the nickname, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll see you soon, then.”

“See you soon!”

With that, Jumin hangs up on him, so he assumes the older man is on his way over. It’s a long, painful wait that makes him so nervous it has him shaking a bit. His heartbeat is in his throat now as he walks the living room and stares at the ground. His entire body is on fire, and his mind is going wild with the images plaguing it. It’s past midnight. What could Jumin possibly be coming over for so late at night? With Seven’s recent realizations regarding his and Jumin’s relationship, he can’t help but think that Jumin’s intentions are less than platonic. Then again, that sounds too good to be true…

So, when he hears Jumin’s familiar knock on the door and the sound of his security system going off, he tries to act as normal as possible as he walks to the door and opens it. Only, the second he sees the other man, who is looking immaculate as ever while standing there half past midnight with an umbrella held over him, he finds himself speechless. He wants to drag Jumin in, to put him in warm clothes, to feed him good food and fall into bed with him on this turbulent, stormy night. But he doesn’t. Instead, he stands there, sputtering and clinging to the door. These emotions that he’s so new to are rendering him completely and utterly helpless. On one hand, he can’t stand it, but on the other, the feeling of loving someone is intoxicating in the best way possible. Saeyoung thinks that, at this rate, he might drown in it.

After a humiliating amount of time standing there staring at each other, Jumin is the first to speak up.

“Am I allowed to come in, or…?” The older man trails off, clears his throat, and closes his umbrella.

“Oh, right! Sorry! Yeah, of course, here,” Snapped back to reality, Seven swings the door open so hard that it hits the wall next to it and makes a loud, horrible noise.

“Thank you,” Jumin says without so much as flinching as he steps into the living room. Seven shuts the door behind them and watches the corporate heir, who’s looking around and hanging his umbrella and suit jacket up on the coat rack in the entryway. “It’s dark…”

“Sorry, want me to turn the lights on?”

“No, that’s quite alright,” Jumin shakes his head and welcomes himself right in, walking ahead of Saeyoung and pacing around the living room before deciding to sit down right on the middle cushion of his couch.

Seven just stands there, still in the entryway, bemused. Jumin is looking back at him from the couch, almost as if

“Why are you here?”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“Is your driver waiting outside?”

“No, I figured you’d drive me back if it were needed, so I told him to go home,” Jumin says nonchalantly. Normally, Seven would be a little taken aback by someone assuming he would be fine acting as a chauffeur, but he finds that since it’s Jumin, he doesn’t mind as much as he should. In fact, he finds it endearing. “I’ve heard that you’re an excellent driver. Then again, as I said, we’ll only have to put those skills to the test if they’re needed…”

“If they’re needed? Implying that you might stay over!?” Seven practically squawks.

His blanket falls off of his shoulders and onto the floor with a gentle plop. Meanwhile, Jumin is still sitting on the couch, now looking back at him with expectant obsidian eyes.

“Perhaps.”

“You know I don’t have a spare room for you, right? You would either be in my room or on the couch,” At that, Jumin doesn’t even blink, so Seven sits down next to him on the couch and continues. “Seems like you don’t care! Anyway, what do you wanna do? Watch a show? Play some games? Just lay around and talk? We could go eat or-”

“Is going driving on the table?”

“Driving?”

“In one of your cars. It seems like a perfect night for it,” Jumin shugs.

“What happened to not needing to put my skills to the test tonight?” Seven questions and stretches his arms upwards, cracking his back in the process.

“I’m all for people being able to change their minds.”

“It’s pouring rain! You know I hate this weather,” Seven lets out a sigh of defeat and flexes his neck to crack it as well, followed by his knuckles. He leans a little too close and tosses an arm over Jumin’s shoulder to get closer to the man, who is impossibly warm. It takes everything in the hacker to keep talking rather than leaning into the heat. “But I guess I can’t blame you for wanting to see one of my babies in action. If you’re sure it’s a good idea, we can definitely go- I can even take you for food after!”

“I’d like that,” Jumin nods and stands up. Seven stands after him. “Lead the way?”

Seven does as asked and, as quietly as he can, leads Jumin to his garage. It feels like they’re two teenagers sneaking around in the middle of the night instead of two grown men going for what teeters the line between a friendly outing and a date. When they enter the garage, safely escaping the potential wrath of Saeran or Vanderwood being woken up in the middle of the night, Jumin’s eyes scan over the array of sports cars.

“Which one do you like?”

Unsurprisingly, Jumin points to one of Saeyoung’s favorites, a brand new red convertible with tinted windows and a large sunroof. Saeyoung digs his massive keychain out of his pocket and uses the button to unlock the car before gesturing for Jumin to get in and going right after him. It’s just the two of them sitting in Saeyoung’s car, the redhead in the driver’s seat with the key in the ignition and Jumin in the passenger’s seat, looking more content than Saeyoung had ever seen him in his life.

Neither of them have any idea where they’re going, and with that thought in mind, the hacker lets out a sigh of relief.

While Saeyoung would usually have the radio blasting obnoxiously loud music, he decides that it’s not needed. The noise is replaced by the sound of his heart beating in his head as he starts the car, opens the garage, and pulls out of it. When they get out onto the road, Saeyoung can’t help but notice just how quiet of a night it would be without the sounds created by the roaring thunderstorm- hell, not even Jumin is talking. The corporate heir has his arms crossed and resting on the power window, upper body slightly twisted so he can face the tinted glass to his right, which he looks out of with a dreamy gaze.

“You can roll the window down if you’d like,” Saeyoung offers with a chuckle and averts his gaze the second Jumin looks back at him. He’s glad that he’s the one driving; it gives him the perfect excuse to avoid eye contact. “You love this weather, don’t ‘cha? I can even open the sunroof.”

“Are you sure? I’d hate to ruin your interior with all this rain falling.”

“It’s waterproof, I’ll wipe it down when we get back.”

“If you say so.”

Saeyoung takes that as permission and reaches over to roll all the windows in the car down and open the sunroof. The rain that pours down on them is surprisingly warm as it soaks through their clothes and splotches the front of Saeyoung’s glasses.

When they come onto an empty, rural road, Seven stops to look at the man next to him.

With his head out the window, rain pouring onto him, Jumin Han looks like a mix between a dream and a movie scene. His charcoal locks are drenched and laying flat against pale skin, that of which glows with the shine of the moonlight beaming down on them as they drive with Saeyoung going much faster than he should. For once, Jumin doesn’t seem to care- instead, he lets go, lets his eyes fall shut, and smiles. The tips of his ears, visibly seen through his soaked hair, are bright red, as are his cheeks and the end of his button nose. His lashes flutter with the wind and the raindrops that lace the curled tips, and suddenly, Saeyoung realizes he should be paying more attention to the road, so he does. He breaks his gaze away and stares at the seemingly endless path of tar-hued, slick roads and blackened sky through his windshield.

“Jesus Christ,” He whispers to himself and does the sign of the cross over the chest.

“Is something wrong?” Jumin murmurs.

“No, not at all! Sorry, I was just… Um, thinking-”

Thinking about how goddamn beautiful you are.

“Thinking?” Jumin inquires and pulls away from the window, now leaning back against the wet seat. “What’s on your mind?”

“I was just… Thinking about how hungry I am!”

“Oh, yes, you did mention potentially stopping for food, but…” Jumin, who had closed his eyes a few moments before, lazily opens one of them and gazes upon the redhead. “What kind of restaurants are going to be open at this time?”

“You’ve never been to a diner, have you?” Seven barks, to which Jumin blushes and runs a single hand through his damp hair.

“I… Don’t believe I have.”

“Then I guess that’s where we’re going if you’re down. There’s a place not too far from here that has awesome pancakes!”

“I’m not opposed.”

With that, Saeyoung dares to drive a little faster and makes his way to the diner. Both of them are absolutely drenched in rain, and he can hardly see through the droplets on his glasses’ lenses, but he’s having the time of his life as thunder roars and lightning tears through the muggy sky. The rain gets heavier, heavier, and heavier, finally settling when they reach the diner that he had in mind. They pull in right in front of the little place, which is practically desolate, with an empty lot and flickering pink and blue lights. Through the windows, you can see the lone cashier and the lone waitress standing at the register, chatting away.

After putting the windows and the sunroof back up, Seven parks and looks over at Jumin with a breathless chuckle before slapping his knee at the sight of the older man, who currently looks like a drowned cat.

“Jeez, Jumin, you’re soaked!”

“Ah, yes… I could’ve foreseen this,” Jumin mutters and loosens his tie before removing it completely and shrugging off his white button-up. Underneath is a plain white tank-top, something that Saeyoung never thought he’d see on Jumin’s body. Once again, he can’t help but think about just how perfect the corporate heir looks like this, cotton shirt clinging to his chest and back, arms and upper chest a wide expanse of toned muscles shifting under porcelain skin, collarbones light and delicate as they rise and fall with each and every steady breath Jumin takes. The ravenette takes the seam of his tank top between two fingers, pulls at it, and lets go. The sopping wet material falls back against his skin with a plop sound that makes Seven laugh once more. “I should’ve brought a change of clothes.”

“I probably have some in the back for both of us, conveniently enough! I packed a few outfits for my last mission that I took this car for, though they aren’t fancy like you’re used to.”

“As long as they’re somewhat presentable, they’ll suffice.”

Taking that as acceptance of his offer, Seven parks the car and opens the trunk. They unbuckle and get out of the vehicle with the hacker grabbing a change of clothes for each of them, both outfits in a plastic grocery bag. He shuts the trunk and puts his keys in his pocket.

As the two men stand there in the rain, Jumin gives him a baffled look, but he doesn’t say anything, so Seven grabs the other man by the hand and drags him inside to the diner. It’s past one in the morning when they slip into the diner and past the distracted waitress and cashier to go change in the men’s bathroom, which Jumin inevitably complains about the size and smell of the entire time.

When they get out and slip back into the dining area with their wet clothing bags in hand, Saeyoung approaches the counter with Jumin in tow, awkwardly standing behind him.

“Table for two, please!”

The waitress quickly greets them and leads them to a corner booth by the windows. Oldies music plays through the static speakers as they sit down, Jumin choosing the spot that faces the door and Seven settling down next to him rather than across from him, wanting that closeness; that warmth he craves so desperately. Two menus are placed in front of them. When the waitress leaves them to their own devices to go talk to the cashier again, Jumin speaks.

“...These are different from what I’m used to,” Jumin pulls at the hoodie of Seven’s he’s wearing and looks down at the sweats that barely cling to his narrow hips. They certainly don’t match the long black socks and formal dress shoes that adorn the corporate heir’s feet, a fact that Seven can’t help but laugh at- at least until Jumin pulls the collar of the hoodie up to his nose. “They smell like you.”

“Huh,” Seven responds, unsure if Jumin’s comment is a good thing or a bad thing.

On one hand, the corporate heir had smiled with this terribly sweet flush on his cheeks when he said it, but on the other hand, Zen also once told Seven that he smells like chips and two-day-old sweat, and V has subtly tried to hand him deodorant and cologne a handful of times throughout the years. Admittedly, from lack of knowledge and lack of time, even Seven himself can admit that his hygiene isn’t the best, and he suddenly finds himself self conscious of the fact as he sits there next to Jumin. He’s glad that, for once, he showered earlier that day to get his mind off of things.

“Could you help me navigate this menu?” Jumin requests.

“Get the blackberry pancakes, you’ll like them… And when you get asked what you want to drink, don’t ask for wine or sparkling water, they won’t have either.”

“Then what do you suggest I ask for instead?”

“Water, chocolate milk, orange or apple juice, soda… Any of those are fine.”

Internally, Seven just prays that Jumin doesn’t try to order something terribly fancy or complicated.

“Okay.”

“And the pancake plates come with two sides, eggs and either sausage or bacon. You have to tell them how you want your eggs cooked and whether you want sausage or bacon.”

“Sounds… Easy enough.”

Before anything else can be said, the waitress approaches them again with a smile on her face and a notepad and pen in hand.

“Hello! How are you tonight?”

“Never been better, how about you?” Seven responds as smoothly as possible despite his anxiety suddenly spiking.

Are they on a date? This feels like a date. Why is Jumin so suddenly resting his head on Seven’s shoulder? The feeling of charcoal locks tickling his shoulder and the side of his neck makes goosebumps raise on his skin at the same time that all his body hair stands up.

“I’m great! Can I get you two started with some drinks?” The waitress asks.

“A PHD Pepper for him and an orange juice for me, please,” Jumin orders drinks for both of them without missing a beat, which has Seven in shock. He honestly didn’t expect Jumin to pay enough attention to know what drink he orders from places like this.

“Okay! Are you ready to order your food, or should I give you a few minutes to look at our menu?”

“I think we’re ready to order!” Seven answers, and as always when he goes to any food establishment, he feels his anxiety bubbling up in his chest when he has to order. Regardless, he forces himself to do it, staring down at the table the whole time and gripping the cloth of his pants a little too hard. “Can I get the strawberry crepes, just the crepes? I don’t want the sides.”

“Gotcha!” She nods, writes Saeyoung’s order, and then turns to Jumin. “And for you?”

“Blackberry pancakes with sausage rather than bacon, and I prefer my eggs poached… And could I get an additional side of hashbrowns?” Jumin orders without so much as pausing or stuttering, then grabs both of their menus to hand them to the waitress with a smile and a nod.

“Awesome, thanks guys! I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

When they get their drinks and their drinks and their food, it’s relatively quiet minus the background noise; the sounds from the kitchen crew’s utensils and pans clinking against surfaces as they work and wash dishes, the absentminded chatter of the waitress and the cashier, the retro music from when their parents were kids playing from the half-broken speakers, the occasional squeak of a rain-covered shoe sole on the checkered white and black tile floors, one of the staff members cleaning the red leather booths and light grey tables.

Jumin cuts his pancakes into methodical, perfectly even sixteenths, cuts his sausage links into fourths, puts his poached eggs on top of his hashbrowns, and cuts open the whites so the runny yolks run over the pan-fried potato strips. He doesn’t eat the pancakes with syrup, just eats them as they are, and he eats each item one at a time; pancakes, sausage, poached egg whites, then the yolk-covered hashbrowns. Meanwhile, Seven scarfs down his crepes without using the knife to cut them, simply picking them up with his fork and taking bites out of them the best he can.

Compared to how neatly Jumin is eating, Saeyoung looks like an absolute mess, but the older man doesn’t seem to care.

Occasionally, Saeyoung will stare at Jumin until the corporate heir stares back, which is when he gets embarrassed and stares down at his plate or gulps down drinks of his soda. They both finish their food decently fast, and when they put down their silverware, the waitress comes by with the check.

“I’ll pay,” Jumin says before Seven can so much as grab the book, but the redhead quickly objects.

“What? No! I’m the one who invited you- I should pay!” The redhead argues and reaches across the table for the book, only for Jumin to move the hand holding it so fast that he fails to grab it.

“I’m the one who wanted to go out, and my food was more expensive than yours. This isn’t up for debate.”

Without another word, Jumin grabs his card from his wallet, takes the book to the front to pay, and comes back. Saeyoung is terribly uncomfortable with and unused to the idea of someone else paying his way, but it’s flattering and generous enough that he can’t help the ghost of a smile that takes over his lips.

Jumin stands in front of where Seven is sat and offers the redhead a hand, so he takes it and stands, but doesn’t let go afterwards. He almost expects Jumin to let go of his hand as they walk out of the restaurant, so when that doesn’t happen, Seven interlaces their fingers and holds onto the other man’s hand even tighter.

When they get outside, the music from the speakers is still very much audible. Still, it surprises him when Jumin’s other hand is drifting to his waist and they’re suddenly swaying to the music together- almost like a couple. Saeyoung blushes and stares down at the ground.

“So, where to now? I can drop you back off at yours.”

“...I do miss Elizabeth 3rd,” Jumin starts. “But will you stay with me?”

“H-Huh?” Seven’s golden eyes snap up to meet Jumin’s charcoal ones, just to make sure he heard that right.

Did Jumin seriously just ask him to stay at his house?

“What? You had no issue with the concept of me staying at yours,” Jumin says nonchalantly, as if it doesn’t matter.

“That- That was different!” Saeyoung exclaims, his entire body on fire.

“How so?”

“Well… Well, it was because it would be convenient since you were going to be over at my house! But me staying the night-”

“Well, we’ll both be at my penthouse, won’t we?” Jumin questions and uses the hand holding Saeyoung’s to twirl him where they stand on the rain-darkened concrete. The parking lot is empty, and the music is booming in his ears, though it’s not nearly as loud as his heartbeat. He debates on whether he should say no or not, because logically, they aren’t even dating or anything so why would he stay over there, but at the same time… The look on Jumin’s face as he pulls Saeyoung back into his chest is awfully convincing.

“I guess so? You absolutely baffle me sometimes…” Seven trails off. “Am I staying in the guest room?”

“Do you want to?” Jumin tilts his head.

“Is that an offer, or is it an attempt to interrogate me?”

“Maybe it’s both.”

The ravenette is leaning in a little too close, and his eyes peer into Saeyoung’s, almost as if he’s peering into the hacker’s soul. Saeyoung debates on how to respond as the thought of sleeping with Jumin crosses his mind. He imagines it, them cuddling together in the older man’s huge, fancy bed, Elizabeth 3rd laying between their feet, their skin pressed flush together, limbs intertwined, bodies covered in plush blankets. It nearly makes him shudder, but he stops himself.

“Then I’ll play along,” Seven breathes out. The feeling of Jumin being so close to him, wanting him… It’s absolutely dizzying, and he can’t help but want more of it. “I want to stay with you- not in your fancy guest room. How about it?”

“Heh, I’m not opposed to it,” Jumin chuckles, light and airy. “It’s nice to hear you being direct with what you want from me for once.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve already embarrassed me enough this week! No need to make it worse, man!” Seven playfully pushes his hands against Jumin’s chest, only for the ravenette to grab them and pull him back in.

“Oh, but it’s so much fun to tease you.”

A deafening silence falls that makes Saeyoung feel like he’s suffocating. The early morning drizzle falls upon them just right as they suddenly stop dancing, the music from the diner distant to their ears now. Jumin’s dark eyes are practically sparkling, and fuck, if he isn’t ethereal under the pale moonlight and soft-colored lights from the diner. His pale skin is beautifully highlighted by the pink and blue that beam down on him, and the shine of his hair reflects just right with every moonbeam that’s coming their way. Better yet, he’s staring at Saeyoung with that face, that gorgeous face that kills him every time; that intent, loving stare he just can’t break.

And Saeyoung knows that he’s not any different.

He isn’t sure who makes the first move, but despite them having started out at a reasonable distance from each other, they end up standing there with their clothed chests against one another, their shoulders bumping, and their noses brushing.

Neither of them can so much as blink now, let alone swallow the tension that’s in the air, and suddenly, their lips are touching, too. It’s not a sensation akin to electricity like it’s described in all of the romance novels. Instead, it feels like relief. Right then and there, Saeyoung feels more grounded than he’s ever felt in his life. His body is going slack, he’s melting into it, into Jumin’s touch, and practically falls forwards when those long arms are wrapped around his waist. It’s almost as if the kiss lasts forever with Jumin’s lips tentatively moving over his and Jumin’s tongue skillfully raking over every inch of his mouth.

When they finally separate so Saeyoung can breathe, Jumin gives him a cocky smirk that’s all too familiar now.

“...Let’s get back to your penthouse before you make me die of embarrassment.”

~~~

When they get back to Jumin’s penthouse, the kissing doesn’t stop. They speed walk from Saeyoung’s car to the penthouse, bodies and clothing damp from the light mist that the rain has died down to. They’re intertwined with each other when they reach the door with Jumin’s arms around Saeyoung and Saeyoung’s back against the door, both of them giggling like teenagers between kisses as Jumin unlocks the door to let them in.

Then, they tumble into the penthouse with Jumin shutting and locking the door behind them. Saeyoung is still giggly, but he manages to follow when he’s grabbed by the hand and led to Jumin’s bedroom, even if his footsteps are a little stumbly. He takes his shirt off before falling into the bed with Jumin crawling onto the mattress right next to him and taking the hacker back into his arms.

They’re facing each other on the bed, lips locking with lips, hands roaming bodies, legs tangled up and arms around bodies like they never want to let go.

“Saeyoung,” Jumin starts between kisses, clearly out of breath.

“Yeah, Juju?”

“What are we?”

“Are we really gonna have this talk at three in the morning?” Seven laughs and breaks away from Jumin’s touch so he can turn over and face the wall, only for Jumin to turn over as well and wrap his arms around Seven’s waist from behind. The redhead sighs in relief at the warmth it gives him, then smiles when he feels Jumin’s face being buried in his bare back.

“I heard once that having serious conversations late at night is better because the other party is more likely to be honest.”

“Do you know why that is?” Seven asks and takes his glasses off to set them on the nightstand.

“Because exhaustion leads to lack of inhibition which makes it harder to contain private information?”

“Bingo!”

“It’s not like either of us have anything to contain from each other… You’re as aware of our situation as I am. You’re just skirting around it.”

“So what if I am?”

“Well, I’d rather you not be, but if you have to, I can respect that… So long as you explain why.”

“I guess we’re being bare bones here,” Again, Saeyoung breaks away from Jumin, this time by wriggling out of his arms and sitting up on the bed with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. Briefly, Elizabeth 3rd hops on the bed and rubs herself up against his side before trotting off to go lay on Jumin’s pillow. Meanwhile, Jumin sits up along with Saeyoung and puts a strong, grounding hand on his shoulder. “I’m scared of what happens when I get too attached for my own good and you end up leaving.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you.”

“I’m scared of what happens when I get too attached for my own good and you end up getting hurt because of me.”

“Aren’t you already too attached for your own good?” Jumin says with a hint of a smile and moves a few stray locks of auburn hair out of Seven’s face. At that moment, Seven looks over at the man and forces himself to smile back despite the serious nature of their current conversation.

“Maybe I am, but if we cross this line, it’ll get much worse, and you… Maybe you’re older than me, and maybe you do understand how cutthroat life can be when it comes to business, but compared to me? You’re so good, so innocent, so kind, and the lifestyle I’ve led in the past will ruin you if it catches up to me.”

“Then leave it behind,” Jumin says it like it’s obvious, wraps his arms around Saeyoung the best he can, and rests his head in the crook between Saeyoung’s neck and shoulder. “Run away from it. It’s in the past now, it can’t hurt you anymore, and it most certainly can’t hurt me. I won’t let it.”

“Leave it all behind, huh? Like everything I’ve done won’t follow me for the rest of my life? Like it’s that easy?”

“It should be if you love me like you seem to. At least try for me.”

“I… I do,” Seven gulps, and suddenly, it feels like he’s swallowing sand as he sits there in Jumin’s room, half-asleep and warm and full of food with Jumin’s body so close to his. “I do love you.”

“And I you,” Jumin says it back without hesitating, lifts his head from Saeyoung, and kisses the hacker’s forehead ever so gently. “So much. I have for a long time. Be with me, or at least try to, no matter what gets in the way.”

Saeyoung can’t help but smile. Though Saeyoung hesitates, he eventually ends up replying.

“Alright.”

“Let’s go to sleep,” Jumin whispers, to which Saeyoung nods. They’re sitting there together under the ambient glow of Jumin’s nightstand, and for once, everything feels okay- no matter how scared he is, Jumin is there to guide him through it, and for the first time in over a week, Saeyoung knows he’s going to sleep well. “We can talk about this some more in the morning. All you need to know right now is that I love you.”

“Heh,” Saeyoung laughs as they crawl underneath the covers together. “I love you, too.”

#jumin han #mysme seven #luciel choi #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #mysme ray #mysme vanderwood #yoosung kim #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #jumin7 #oneshot #oneshots #drabble #drabbles

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khodorkovskaya · 2 years

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first of all your family situation sounds really complicated, and im so so sorry. You need a strong support base, especially if you're going to take care of that poor child. but also you dont sound like you're getting any (?) support from your bf, either in family turmoil or in professional/student ventures, or at the house, or with your needs. You may be "happy" while with him but does anything he *does* make you happy? I don't want to bash him at all but he doesnt seem to be doing his part

i don't know what he's supposed to do it this situation, frankly. he doesn't want to take care of my half-sister in the future and that's fair, this whole thing is fucked up. the worst case scenario of how things might turn out is obviously bad, but even the not-so-worst case scenario is already scary. i totally get where he's coming from. i would've loved a bit more empathy from him but he's not a very empathetic person in general. and it's hard to have empathy towards alcoholics who value booze over their own child, i get it.

and for the other stuff, i myself don't know if im really getting the support i need. i have a very strong support system within my family (mum and stepdad), so i technically don't feel like i need more. but im starting to wonder if this will last. i feel like if we have serious issues to deal with (like the half-sister adoption situation), my bf and i are gonna struggle a lot. we don't have a lot of values in common, so when it comes to difficult situations where there are no right and wrong answers, we never agree on what to do.

the thing is, i think he cares about me, but his max effort is not enough for me. he's very concerned about my studies and career for example. we often have long discussions about my future and he gives me a lot of advice. or, a more specific example, i have exams at the end of august and he's gonna do all the housework/cooking this month so that i can focus on studying. so you see, he does support me on a basic level. if i ask him to help me, he will. but the problem for me is that i really want him to go the extra mile for me. and i don’t think he’s capable of it.

getting sidetracked, but we went to sarajevo together for 2 days and i didn’t have a lot of time to get myself a souvenir. since he was staying there for 5 more days, i asked him if he could get an owl for me (i collect owls). and he did. but it was just the owl and nothing else. and he knows i love sarajevo and all the little shops there. like i would’ve bought so much if i had the time. and i was v disappointed that he got me just this one thing that i asked for. and like... not to sound spoiled but, even though i asked just for the owl, i would’ve loved if he got me something else too. like “hey, these earrings made me think of you” or “here are those baklavas you really liked” or something.

and it’s always this way with him. his maximum effort is the bare minimum for me. yes, he got me the thing i asked for, but does he buy me spontaneous gifts? no. yes, he’s gonna cook dinner for me when i study, but is he gonna make me cute tupperwares to take to the library? no. yes, he is concerned about my family situation, but is he gonna make changes in his life to help me? probably not. and i don’t know if im the needy one for wanting more bc maybe im spoiled bc my friends and family will kill for me and that’s the treatment im used to. so idk. he’s supposed to be my number one but he will never go the extra mile for me and im getting tired of it.

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owlinabasket · 3 years

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you should see me in a crown

#Megamind #Roxanne Ritchi #megarox #dreamworks #dreamworks animation #Evil Queen Roxanne gives me life #I am so proud of this but my god I have been colouring for close to nine hours now #Owl is tired but v happy

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lennyfacedonger · 3 years

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(? _?)

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

So I'm reading your works and I love them !! I was thinking of requesting some kind of drabble or whatever you like, about a female reader who has thick thighs and is somewhat plump and is in love with Tsukishima but he makes a comment about the food and she feels bad and when she meets Bokuto in the boot camp Bokuto is too cute and attentive to her asking for her number and a date. If you don't feel comfortable with this, just ignore it and good luck with your blog. Sorry my english is bad<3

When they make you insecure PT 5 (tsukishima,bokuto)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part 6

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

Tsukishima

You and Tsukishima have been dating in your first year (as you both went to the same middle school together.)

You were in love with Tsukishima, you always have been to be honest, but once you became officially boyfriend and girlfriend your feelings amplified.

But recently, Tsukishima hasn’t been so nice.

“Y/N we’re going on another training camp at Nekoma” Hinata exclaimed running up to you, as you leaning against Tsukishima “and you get to come too this time!”

You recently became the new trainee manager as the third-year manager, Kikyoko, is going to graduate. Tsukishima acted as if you being around all the time in practice was the worst thing in the world, but Yamagucchi always assured you that ‘Tsukki’ was just joking.

“Oh well that’s fun...” you say entertaining Hinata’s excitement. You were kind of excited to go to the training camp too, as it was in Tokyo after all. You were always a big fan of volleyball as your dad used to play for the national team and you were planning to play on the girls team this year but you felt that you didn’t have the body for it (which was obviously not true.)

Hinata kept on rambling on before Tsukishima insulted him. “Gosh Kei, you don’t have to be so rude.” you complained, he slightly nudged you off of him and put on his headphones showing you that he was not in a good mood.

You let the rest of the practice continue, making notes of things and basically being Kiyoko’s shadow. As it ended, you waited outside for Tsukishima to walk home with you, but one of the guys told you he left 5 minutes ago. You knew there was no point of chasing after him so you just walked on your own, making you sigh in defeat.

Tsukishima was what you would describe as hot and cold. Some days he was fine a ‘perfect gentlemen’ but other days, days like this Tsukishima was just Tsukishima.

When you got home, you decided to watch matches of all the other schools just to get some insight. You were watching a Fukarodani V Nekoma match from a few years ago and something caught your eye, well someone did to be more specific. A beefy, bicolour haired boy who was hooting like an owl was mesmerizing to watch.

You saw that his name was Bokuto Koutarou which triggered your next actions, which were to internet stalk him. You learned that he was the captain of the team and the team’s ace and the 5th ace in the country which piqued your interest in the boy even more.

‘This is going to be an exciting training camp’ you think to yourself before going to sleep.

`Kiyoko gave you an itinerary of all the things you should bring, since you weren’t going to be joining in any of the matches you were reminded to bring things that would keep entertained.

You get to the bus at the crack of dawn, ready to be driven to Tokyo. Hinata and Kageyama were already arguing (let’s pretend that they didn’t have to do the retakes in the test) Tanaka and Nishinoya were being loud, and the rest of the members were already asleep. You wanted to sit next to Tsukishima but when you were about to sit down, he put his carryon bag in the seat next to him.

The bus ride was around 4-5 hours, and you spent your time reading and sleeping. Daichi got the loudmouths to calm down making the bus ride more tolerable. You suffered from slight motion sickness but you powered through.

When you arrived there, you saw all the other teams and their buses too. You felt a bit overwhelmed, seeing these tall boys just crowd around an entrance way. But too your surprise, noticing your slight anxiousness, Tsukishima grabbed your hand in a hand-hold.

The Nekoma coach, explained how the day would pan out and where each team would be residing for the week. There was a lot of commotion getting everyone settled, Hinata and Nishinoya were basically bouncing off of the wall commenting on all the people and the place and how they’re going to ‘crush the competition.’

You could tell that when the other teams were looking at Karasuno they were all staring at Kiyoko. Inquisitive about how there wasn’t only one girl manager but there was two. As you were walking your eyes locked with Bokuto Koutarou’s making yours widen, you blush and turn your head quickly.

What you didn’t know was, after your small interaction, Bokuto elbowed Akaashi and said “Akaaashi AKKAAASHI, did ya see that? did ya?” he was flying with happiness “That girl from Karasuno smiled at me. She’s really pretty.”

“I think she’s from Karasuno” Akaashi said “So maybe you’ll see her around”

Bokuto stared off in the direction you were walking in “Yeah, hopefully.”

The first day, everyone got settled in and then the teams went straight into games. There were two different gyms and today, in gym 1, you were watching Karasuno V Nekoma. (By the way I literally don’t remember the teams at the training camp besides Nekoma, Karasuno and Fukarodani.) The game was very back a point each team making point after point, you already knew of Nekoma’s captain, Kuroo Testurou and the setter Kenma, you’ve actually played games with Kenma online before so you were fairly acquainted with him already.

The games ended and it was now dinner time, the canteen was packed with all the boys rushing to line up for the food. You waited at the back of the line, not really caring about when you got your food. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you looked over to see Boktuo,

“Hi.” he said “I’m Bok-”

“Bokuto Koutarou!” You finished “I'm a big fan..” you cringed immediately at your excitement ‘pull it together Y/N’ you scold yourself.

“Oh well hi, I’m glad you know who I am” he said “and may I ask for your name?”

“Oh I’m Y/N L/N” you say with a slight blush “I'm the trainee manager from Karasuno.”

“Cool! Well I hope to see you aro-” he starts

“Y/N, I’ve been looking all over for you, I already got your food for you.” Tsukishima said pulling at your arm a bit harshly, dragging you over to a table with the Karasuno team.

“Gosh Tsukki, no need to be so harsh” you say rubbing at your wrist, he didn’t apologize and just started eating his food.

You look down at your plate and see the small portion that Tsukki got for you. The Karasuno bunch was being loud, as they usually are, so when you whisper “Tsukki what the fuck is this” whilst nudging him in the side, he didn’t hear you (or atleast he pretended he didn’t.) You tried again but a little louder saying, “Tsukishima what the fuck is this.” you realised you said it a bit too loud as the whole Karasuno table stopped their conversations to look over at the slight commontion you caused.

“What do you mean Y/N?” he said with a slight smirk on his face.

“I mean what’s with the portion size of a bird that you gave me?” you ask getting upset “Do you really think im that big?”

“Well, you could start eating less that’s for sure.” he said earning gasps from you and some of the people sitting at the table “Y/N let's face it, you eat like a pig and you look like an elephant, me making your food portion smaller is the least I could do.”

By now you had tears in your eyes, Tsukishima was a dick. You knew this, everybody knew this to be honest, yet you still loved him. He wasn’t like this in middle school, yes he was a bit snarky and rude (but wasn’t every middle schooler?) High school Tsukishima was like a completely different person. As much as you wanted to run away and hide, you knew you couldn’t.

So you stood up and said “Tsukishima, I’ve spent 3 years loving and pining after you, because I thought you were this great guy, but turns out you’re a huge asshole” you start making some of the people listening in smile in laughter “Tsukishima, I’ve hated this past year dating you, you’ve been such a huge dick and I’m finally stopping you. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t.” You start making your way to exit before finally saying “Oh and by the way I’m not the pig here, you are... oh and I’m breaking up with you.” You left, hearing a few laughs and some claps behind you.

You felt relieved, like the massive cloud that’s been over your head is finally gone. You went to the gym since you knew it was empty and picked up a ball to just throw it around a bit. After a while of ‘de-stressing,’ you hear someone else enter the gym.

“Oh I didn’t know you’d be here.” said Bokuto

“Well here I am,” you say awkwardly “I can leave if you want me too, I know this is for actual volleyball players.”

“No no it’s fine you can definitely stay, in fact do you mind setting for me?” he asks

“Sure, of course I don’t mind” you reply, excited you get to play with someone. You haven’t played in ages, you always begged Tsukishima to just throw a ball around with you but he never did.

You set to Boktuo a lot, with him always asking for ‘another one’ everytime he spiked the ball. Eventually, you were tired of setting and wanted to spike. You originally was a spiker to begin with taking after your dad. Thats why you took a liking to Bokuto in the first place cause he reminded you of the joys you had when watching your father play.

Bokuto set a ball to you and you spiked it with great strength and accuracy smiling at the burning feeling you felt in your palm.

“Woahh” Bokuto shouted going towards you in amazement “Where did you learn how to spike like that?”

“From my dad, I don’t know if you heard of him before but my dad’s name is D/N L/N...?” you say

“D/N L/N, Y/N he is my idol!” he shouted again “I want to be just like him.”

“I think you can, I see a lot of similarites in the way you both play.” you say

“Really! And you’ve seen me play before..?” he asks

“Yeah, I watched some of your games before coming here... you’re really good” you shyly admit.

“Wow.”

You and Bokuto spend the rest of your time, talking about volleyball you’re interests, things you have in common, your likes and dislikes. Talking to Bokuto was refreshing, he didn’t randomly insult you or make snide comments about your weight or your looks. He just genuinely looked happy to be there talking to you, unlike Tsukishima.

Seeing your change in mood, Bokuto stops talking and asks “are you alright? I forgot to ask earlier, but I saw what happened in the canteen and I hope you’re okay.”

“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just things with me and Tsukishima reached a breaking point, I guess...” you say sniffling a bit talking about it “But it’s fine now I’ve broken up with him and I feel better already.”

“So you’re saying your single...?” he asked blushing a bit

“Yeah I guess I am...” you smile blushing also.

“Okay great...well I hope this isn’t too forward after everything happened with Tsukki and all but...” he starts “but would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Who me?” you ask as if you weren’t the only other person in the room

“No the volleyball” he responds sarcastically “Of course you Y/N.”

“Are you sure, cause to be honest Bokuto you’re a really good-looking guy” you say making him smile widely “so I think you need someone to match your level in attractiveness” you look down and his smile drops.

“What do you mean?” he asks before realising all the stuff Tsukishima said about you “Y/N you’re beautiful, your face, your body just you.” you blush at his words “when I first saw you when you were walking past us in the entrance way the first thing I thought and said about you was “Akaashi who is that girl she’s beautiful.””

“Really?” you ask with disbelief

“Mhm” he nods excitedly “So will you go on a date with me?”

“I guess so...” you say a bit unsure

“HEY HEY HEY!” he exclaims “I gotta go tell akaashi!” he runs out of the gym in a hurry making you laugh, but he comes back to give you a quick unexpected kiss on the cheek making you smile.

You checked your phone for the time realising that you’ve been with Bokuto for 3 hours and you knew that everyone would be going to sleep now. As you are the manager you slept seperately from the rest of the team but before you went to your sleeping quaters you went to Karasunos.

“Y/N where have you been? We’ve been worried about you.” asked yammagucchi

“It’s fine yams don’t worry about it, guys” you say catching everyones attention “I just wanted to apologise to you for my outburst at dinner, it wasn’t my intention to cause a scence.”

“It’s fine Y/N” said sugawara “He definitely deserved it.”

“Yeah as your marvellous senpai we gave him a good telling off” said Tanaka and Nishinoya making you chuckle.

“Okay well thanks guys, I’m going to sleep goodnight.”

“Wait Y/N can I speak with you.” asked Tsukishima gesturing to outside the room

“Umm sure” you respond following him into the corridor.

“I just want to say I’m sorry for the things I’ve said and done over the past year and how I’ve been a terrible boyfriend, you don’t deserve that. So, I’m sorry.”

“I can’t say I can forgive you yet.” you say making Tsukishima look sad “but maybe with effort from you we can become friends possibly?”

“Just friends?” he said with hope in voice thinking that you could be something more.

“Just friends.” you repeated and confirmed “Besides I have been asked on a date”

“With who?”

“None of your business stingyshima” you mock the nickname that Hinata calls him making him scowl and you smile “Goodnight.”

After Bokuto’s confession and Tsukishima’s apology, the rest of the training camp went off without a hitch. In your breaks and lunchtimes, you got to know more about Bokuto and with Kuroo’s help you even got to sneak out to actually go on your date. You sometimes even went to practice with them getting to show off your skills, with Bokuto cheering you on and complimenting you every single time.

Tsukishima kept his distance for the most part, and kept the snarky comments about you and Bokuto to himself (even though he was dying to say them.) You eventually fully forgave Tsukishima in your 3rd year but you definitely weren’t as close as you used to be. Tsukishima’s comments and actions did affect you for a while however with the help of your loving boyfriend, you were reminded how beautiful you are no matter what weight, shape or height you were.

You and Bokuto stayed together, you made sure to come to every one of his games and when you introduced him to your dad he fainted on sight. Your dad and Bokuto got along, and became very close friends, Bokuto always came to him for advice (especially volleyball advice.) You loved Bokuto and he definitely loved you too.

AN: I hope you liked it, since I didn’t want to make it too similar too the Atsumu insecure one. And I feel like it dragged out a bit but got rushed in the endd....but oh well...

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima headcanons #bokuto scenarios #bokuto angst #bokuto x reader #signedwithane😌

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dokifluffs · 4 years

Text

Pregnant | Osamu, Kenma, Akaashi, Sakusa

Pairings: Osamu X Reader (female), Kenma X Reader (female), Akaashi X Reader (female), and Sakusa X Reader (female)

Genre: fluff!!! Pregnant reader!!

Author’s Note: im having some v domestic vibes and baby fever so might as well share it with you all too! Happy reading~

Warning: all post time skip! Pregnancy (duh)

Pregnant | Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Atsumu

Osamu:

Crickets chirped into the darkness of the clear summer sky, stars twinkling as far as the eye could see as his keys jingled in the door, the cool air conditioning greeting him as he stepped in

The plastic bag of steaming hot onigiris rustled with every step and move he made

You sent him a text asking if he could bring home some onigiris, craving for some especially since you had been home all day while he was at work before he would have to take off on maternal leave when your arriving son would be brought into the world

The kitchen lights were off but the living room lights and tv were still on playing a random house hunting show

He approached your sleeping body, laid on you side with a pillow in between your legs, your arm draped over the side of your belly, the other acting as your pillow

He set the bag gently on the table and knelt down in the space between the table and the couch right in front of you

“Y/N, honey,” Osamu’s voice was as gentle as a summer evening breeze, the kind that just made anyone feel good as they relaxed on a grassy hill, taking in view of the colorful sky as the sun set in the distance

“I’m home,” he leaned close and pressed a kiss to your forehead

Seeing you after being away all day, it made him wonder what you did at home all day, how bored you must be, how tired you must be

He caressed your cheek, tilting his head to take your sleeping face at a better angle

“Y/N,” his voice was silky and light in a quiet singsong way, almost humming your name while speaking it as he grazed the back of his fingers over your plush, smooth cheek

You reached your hand from your belly to his, a small smile pulling at your lips as you brought in close to your nose and took a deep breath

What he did not expect was you biting into his hand

“Y/N, honey, wake up.,” he laughed as he carefully shook you awake, trying to pull his hand back

It didn’t hurt, more like you were nibbling on him but this was one, if not most, bizarre thing you had done in all of your pregnancy

“‘Samu~ welcome home,” you woke and smiled sleepily, reaching your arms up as he leaned in to meet you halfway

He helped you sit up and opened the bag of onigiris, some new and not even on the menu yet, before you could even ask about them

You sat close, leaning into his side as the two of you ate, the tv on more of a background sound before he turned it off, giving his undivided attention

“This is so good,” you spoke, mouth partially full with one of the new onigiris, your craving being satiated as always provided by your loving husband, Osamu

“Are ya sure?” He asked, a little serious but mostly joking. “It didn’t feel that way when you were chompin’ on me earlier.” He stuck his hand out with the lightest marks made by your teeth moments ago. “Were ya that hungry?” He rubbed your shoulder with his hand, taking another bite of his own onigiri

Your eating came to a cease, laughter coming out as you set your onigiri down in your lap to take Osamu’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” you said totally unbelievable with all the laughter and giggles erupting from you, it could only make Osamu smile himself hearing your laughter

He didn’t even realize how long he had heard it but it felt so good, it felt nostalgic that made him love you even more

“Did it hurt?” You traced your finger over his skin, looking up to him

“Nah, I’m jokin’, eat.” He traded his onirigi to his other hand so he could hand you yours from your lap

It was your craving after all

The two of you ate one after the other, sitting comfortably side by side as if time didn’t exist

It didn’t take long at all before the bag was empty but the two of you stayed put in the living room with both hungers satiated

The room filled with a comfortable silence as as your bodies melted together

Your hand rest over Osamu’s as he rubbed your belly, reality setting in for him, and even you, for the nth time since you announced your pregnancy

This was really happening

You were his wife, you were going to have his child, both your love for each other in a new life

He was going to have you by his side just like this and you were going to have him, just like this

And one day, there will be a tiny pair of feet in between and he couldn’t wait

Kenma:

Your steps sounded louder and louder as you went down the stairs, feeding the insecurity of your looks now that your belly was swelling bigger as time went on, days and weeks, months passing to your due date to the newest addition of your family with Kenma

A new Kozume brought to the world :)

Time was ticking

The hem of your oversized t-shirt tickled your thighs as you walked waddled toward Kenma in the living room, the wooden floors creaking with every step, it just poked and prodded at your insecurities

You paused right in the middle, the couches a few strides away but you couldn’t move another step

The sight of your body in the tv was the cherry on top- your plumped up body, the clear weight gain, especially your stomach although you were pregnant

But still

You felt so much bigger, you even stayed off of social medias seeing your old pictures and your recent ones families had taken, posting them

The difference was so great, it made your heart race, a chilling panic ghosting through your body, raising goosebumps over your arms

“Y/N?” Kenma’s voice pulled your mind out of the clouded thoughts of your mind. “What’s wrong?” He paused his game, standing to his feet, over to you in his comfortable sweats and kodzuken shirt with a simple white aesthetic that was eye catching but not overbearing

“I’m so much bigger,” you looked to him with glistening eyes, visually upset over your weight gain from pregnancy but it was bound to happen to everyone who got pregnant. “I’m so ugly,” you felt disgusted, your voice cutting off at the end and you wanted to turn away, head back upstairs, and hide under the covers until tomorrow

“I guarantee you that you are not ugly,” he rubbed his finger to the back of your hand on your belly, a little thing he did as he asked “permission” to hold your hand before he took it into his own

“Come with me,” he led you over to the couch he sat at earlier, the gray leather couch

He sat leaning onto the arm rest and some pillows, his legs spread open and patted the open space between

“I won’t fit,” you shook your head, completely sure you were way too wide to fit in between Kenma’s legs

Kenma was very much a stick, pretty thin, not too much taller than you but this just seemed impossible for you, especially since it felt like you were double his weight and width despite it being not true at all

“You will,” he reassured

You hesitated before sitting down, biting back all your thoughts and reasons as to why you should sit somewhere else or you needed to be anywhere else so you didn’t have to feel this way

But Kenma was right

His legs were own both sides of you and he eased your back to his chest

“Wait, Kenma, no-“ you tried to sit up, only to unable to because of your belly

“I’m too heavy.” Heat rushed up to your head, your want, no, need to leave eating you from the inside

“You’re not. Relax with me tonight.” He brought his arms around your body, handing you his personalized switch with animal crossing opened knowing this was one of your favorites

“Just play,” his voice was soothing to your ears, calming your heart

As you ran his character around his island, the more Kenma gave you tips, making light fun of the way you played, your thoughts and fears about your body slowly began to dissipate

With your mind wrapped up in the game, the more you let everything go

He was always able to read others and analyze things well, encased in his shell from a young age of being an introvert

But there was something about you, along with Kuroo and Hinata and others, who were able to coax him out of his shell

You were so wrapped up in the game, you hadn’t even realized Kenma’s hands resting on your belly behind yours holding up the switch, occasionally rubbing it as he let out a gleeful hum with his chin resting on your shoulder, watching you play, pointing out things you may have missed or advice on what you could do to maximize profits

Akaashi: *S/N* = Story Name

Akaashi’s hand was soft in yours as you excitedly led him up the stairs toward the finally finished nursery

He, along with the help of your father, painted the room a light beige color and when the paint finally dried, brought in all the furniture like the cribs, changing station

All that was left was for you to decorate it as much as you wanted and you absolutely made sure he saw none of it until now

You opened the door revealing a complete nursery, he didn’t know where to look first but most notable was the mobile above the crib- little owls hung and when turned on, they rotated in a circle that made it seem like they were flying

“Push that button,” you stood right beside him, holding his arm, your heart pounding in your chest out of excitement

And that was when he heard it- the lullaby from a music box he had gotten you when he proposed to you a couple years back. And here it was, a tune that you two’s child will be growing up hearing

The sound of the device was so soothing, it made akaashi feel like he was just meeting you last week and getting down on one knee to propose to you yesterday

“It’s our song, Keiji,” you rest your head on his shoulder. “And it’s going to be theirs.” You brought his hand up to your belly as he turned to you, his gaze never leaving you, his eyes trained to your smile as you looked down to your bump and the feel of his touch on you

The way your eyes shimmered when you looked up, the same smile he could never get tired of in his life, it made his heart swell so big in his chest

He leaned his head close and cupped your face, bringing his lips to yours. He had to show his love for you, to thank you for being with him in this life, thanking whoever or whatever brought you to his life

You certainly changed it and he wouldn’t do anything to change that

“What was that for?” You laughed, stealing another small kiss from his lips as he pulled away, his sea green eyes as enchanting as always when he opened them

“The song reminded me how much you truly mean to me, my love.”

It felt like you were in high school/ university all over again- his simple, straight-forward words that were always able to reduce you to a blushing mess

“What should we read them tonight?” Akaashi smiled as he knelt down in front of the little shelf filled with children books, mostly gifts from his and your mother, as you sat back on a small couch adjacent to the crib

“Anything,” you chimed from behind

With that, Akaashi chose S/N and took his seat beside you. You draped your legs over his and rest your head on his arm as he opened the book and began to read the story

It was as clear as you remembered from your own memory, the images and scenes from your own childhood playing so vividly in your mind

Akaash’s voice was so smooth as he read aloud, voicing the character(s) with ease, it naturally made you a bit lethargic yourself hearing this story

Guess bedtime stories still worked even tens of years later

As the story came to an end, as Akaashi read over the happy ending, his story came to a stop as you raised your head, gasping

“What, what is it?” He suddenly set the book to the table beside it as he sat on the edge of couch, turning to you as you stared down to your belly. “Are you hurt?” He began to grow a bit frantic, his panic growing when you didn’t respond

“No, no, no, Keiji, the baby moved,” you looked up to him, your smile slowly spreading on your face, melting away his fears as relief washed over him

“Look feel!” You snatched his hand and placed it on your belly and it was true

The little baby moved inside of your belly, kicking the side of your tummy right into Akaashi’s hands

The doctor suggested to begin doing activities with the baby such as well as movement being something that was going to happen soon

But neither of you thought so soon

You were wide awake at this point as you felt your child move inside, a sensation you’ve never felt before, only seen in videos

“Hi, baby,” you spoke to you belly, a tear escaping from your eye as you looked up to Akaashi, your love for him and the two of you overflowing. “We’re your parents,” your voice quieted down to a mere whisper

The two of you sat astonished watching the little movements that lasted for about a minute, your hands never leaving each other, staying on your belly

This was real, this was your reality, your life with the one you loved so much

And he loved you with every bit of him, he couldn’t imagine what he would do in another life without you

Sakusa:

It felt like your nausea combined with your cold was going to be the end of you if not the constant kicking from your daughter in your belly at your organs and even your ribs some times

You winced in your seat on the couch, hand over your belly as you took deep breaths through your stuffed nose through pain on top of all the things that was going through your body

Sakusa felt his heart drop beside you, wearing double masks over his face to make extra sure he wouldn’t catch any of your germs from your cold and morning sickness

“Another kick?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded your head, pushing though it. “I feel cold…” you closed your hands around the extended sleeves of the oversize sweater you wore, leaning closer to Sakusa

He tried not to mind this too much but it was like an irritating itch that wouldn’t go away, the fact how you hadn’t showered or anything today yet making it execrable for him

“How about a bath then?” He hesitantly rubbed his hand over your clothed shoulder but got over his lifelong phobia for a second

You were going to be by his side for the rest of his life. He had already seen and touched every bit of your body

You were bearing your guy’s child. This couldn’t go on forever

His touch was so simple, so light, it fed a hunger for him you didn’t realize you had deep inside but at the same time, it took you by surprise

The Sakusa you met years ago wouldn’t even sit or stand, let alone breathe, within two to three feet to anyone and years later, after marriage, and now with the start of a family, he was climbing the obstacle of his fears step by step

He knew, he told you with his own words he was never one to share a loving touch or caring words. He wanted to, god he wanted to so badly to let go of his cares and worries and fears but he couldn’t. It was etched into his skin and body, imprinted for his eyes and mind to constantly see and think about

But he wanted this to change. He wanted to do and say so many things to you to show his love that he deeply felt for you, it moved him and tore him on the inside

“Yes please,” you nodded

Sakusa had you walk in front of him, making sure you didn’t lose your balance going up

He took care of everything, adding soaps to the bath at the perfect heated temperature that would be perfect to soothe you as well as take care of some germs

Steam arose from the bubbly water

The two of you took off your clothes and he was the first to get in, his muscles instantly relaxing with the therapeutic temperature

You followed suit, feeling the subtle creeps of awkwardness

Again to your surprise, Sakusa took hold of your shoulders and carefully leaned you back into his chest with his legs crossed loosely beneath your legs

He brought his arms under the water, his hands looped around your abdomen and found their place on your belly

As soon as his touch was on you, you took in a sharp inhale, jolting in the water that created a little wave among the bubbles floating

“She’s been so active today,” Sakusa commented as he rubbed his hand in a circle on your belly, the other holding your hand as you gripped onto him through the pain

“Mmhm,” you gave a pained hum, eyes shut as you continued to breathe deeply

Sakusa could see the clear pain you were in, all the nausea and emotions that were all pent up in your body, it made guilt prick at his heart as he imagined all the times you probably wanted to reach out to him so he could hold you to help you though this but refrained

He could see your figure so clearly in his mind, reaching out but pulling back

Enough was enough

He pulled his arm from the water with a prominent splash and took off his masks, setting them neatly to the side

“I’m sorry you’re going through all this pain, Y/N.” Sakusa leaned close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, stifling his obsessive phobia internally. “Please never hesitate to reach out to me… I want to be a better husband for you…” He admitted

It felt so good to say this- it felt better than washing his hands or putting on a new mask

“I’ll be better,” he vowed more to himself than you

“Omi, it’s okay but thank you. I won’t.” You rubbed your hand over his forearms under the water, your chills from earlier long gone now

It was like magic

With Sakusa’a hands rubbing your belly, it was like your daughter sensed this and her kickings finally ceased for the rest of the bath

“She’s not even born yet but she’s already daddy’s girl,” you leaned your head back to his shoulder, smiling tiredly to Sakusa as his lips mirrored yours

“You’re my girl now and forever, though. She’ll just be my little one,” he leaned close and pressed his lips to your forehead

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan@turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita

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tatiana-petrovna · 3 years

Text

Come Away To the Water. Book VII

(read book I here) (book II here) (book III here) (book IV here) & (book V here) & (book VI here)

Come away little light, come away to the darkness To the ones appointed to see it through In the shade of the night we’ll come looking for you Come away little lamb come away to the water Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter Give yourself so we might live anew

fandom: midnight mass pairing: Father Paul x 2nd person OFC (Helena Belleforest) summary: “That’s my job. To know the people in my community.” “You mean the sheep in your flock.” “Especially the little black ones that like to wander off.” His voice is so tender. You wonder if Jesus spoke with this same tenderness. You think, if he did, you would’ve defied Rome for him too. warning: nsft (18+ interaction only)

(playlist) a/n: hey I posted some sheriff smut you should go read it :P taglist: @shannon-posts @seraphiiii @witchy–owl @allergic-to-reality @viatenebrosa @lucie-pevensie @wolfieellsworld @midnight-mess @plainlo-inthemorning @goingtoraisins (if I missed anyone just lmk I’m so sorry if I did!)

“You know you’re describing a vampire, right?” The shock has worn off and you’re just now starting to feel rational thought burgeoning in your mind again. Sitting next to Paul in a little kebab joint in Queens, you reach for the fountain root beer you’d ordered and take a sip. You’d desperately needed to get off the island, if only to come up for air. Thankfully, Paul had been so grateful you were still beside him after his secret had come out, he’d been happy to grant you any request.

Beside you in the booth seat, he chuckles softly and sips his mint tea.

“How familiar are you with vampire lore?”

“Very.” You respond, confident with your knowledge in this arena. Your bookshelves are overflowing with mythology from every corner of the globe. But vampires are kind of your thing. The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice became your favorite book at age 12 and you’ve been obsessed with anything lacking a pulse ever since.

“So, you can tell me about the first vampire legend in recorded history?” He seems a little too amused and you have to wonder what’s up his sleeve. Still, you bite.

“Sekhmet. Badass warrior.” The grin on your face practically glows in your eyes. “She was said to drink the blood of those she slayed in battle. She was worshipped as a goddess because, as the story goes, her blood could heal those she gave it to. Even the fallen soldiers who fought under her command. Like them, she would always rise again after she was slain.”

He gives you a nod of approval, a twinge of pride in his smirk.

“Are there things you don’t know?”

“I mean don’t ask me to like… divide.”

You shrug, laughing softly at your inability to perform even basic math. “I dunno, we’re always discussing religion and mythology and stuff. That’s me. That’s who I am. If we talked about… how to change a flat tire or build a good stock portfolio, I promise I'd sound a lot less nerdy.”

“You’re not nerdy.” Swaying into you, his shoulder bumps your own gently.

“I am.” You snort, “But so are you so I don’t cry about it to my therapist anymore.”

Paul rolls his eyes, then steals a piece of chicken off your plate.

“Sekhmet.” He drags you out of your ADD and back to the conversation at hand. You think, he’d make a very good university professor with his ability to guide conversations. But maybe that’s just you enjoying the thought of getting him alone during office hours. “Do you remember where that myth originated?”

“Egypt.” You shrug. Too easy.

“And her lineage?”

“Uh…” It takes a moment for you to remember this particular detail. Then, suddenly, it occurs to you why. Because she had claimed none. At least not a mortal lineage. “She said her father sent her, the…”

Realization dawns on your face and Paul nods somberly.

“The sun god, Ra. King of the Egyptian pantheon. Father of all creation. He sent her to earth to cleanse it of those who offended him with sin. But he could not bring himself to look upon these horrors with his own eyes. So he allowed Sekhmet to walk only at night.”

“So you think she was an angel too?”

“You don’t?”

It's tough to argue his logic when he’s got you resolving your own questions and finding his answers lying at the bottom of each rabbit hole. “So we… met angels. But we didn’t realize they were angels. And we called them vampires? Thinking we were classifying a species of monster. When in reality…”

“In reality, these were messengers of God.”

“Hmm…” Tugging off the plastic cover of your cup, you shake a piece of ice free and pop it into your mouth. Turn it over with your tongue while your thoughts swirl around.

“It’s a lot, I know.” He offers, sensing the weight of everything you thought you knew being rearranged. His hand finds your upper spine and flattens there, rubbing in slow circles to comfort you. “If you think about it though… it makes some sense. Take this, all of you, and drink from it: this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me. You know the Consecration as well as I do, I’m sure, I mean… it sounds pretty self explanatory.”

“I’m sorry,” Turning to him wide eyed, it takes some effort not to choke on your ice. “Now you’re saying Jesus was a vampire?”

Paul’s head tips to the side, eyeing you almost as if disappointed. But his voice remains as gentle and patient as ever.

“And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

Sighing sharply, you shift enough to lean against his side. You like the way his arm wraps across your shoulders like he was carved to fit around you. The way his long fingers play gently through your curls.

“Fine, Jesus was a vampire.” You concede, rubbing at your tired eyes. A deep yawn quickly follows and you decide you’re ready to clock out of theology class for the night. As if he can feel your fatigue himself, Paul gives in to a yawn of his own and drops a soft kiss to your head.

“We’ve probably missed the Belle, you know.”

“Well, we’ll just have to sleep in this booth then.” You close your eyes as if you’re truly resolved. But you’re forced to open them as his body shakes with a deep chuckle before he moves to stand.

“Not a chance.” Moving to toss his paper plate out and yours, Paul offers you his hand a moment later. “I may not have the body of an eighty-year old man any longer, but I still don’t think my back could take that.”

Smirking softly, you pull your coat on and clasp his hand firmly with yours.

"Is that an invitation to test out what your new, younger back can take?"

He eyes you dangerously and you giggle, knowing you're being bad and enjoying every second of it. You like even more the way this feels. Just walking around the city hand in hand with him. No priestly collar tonight, just a t shirt and a hoodie over slim fit jeans to cover his tall frame. No nosy islanders, just the lights of NYC and the pools of shadow in between. Almost like you're both normal. Almost like this could be yours. Like really yours. It makes a favorite song of yours surface in your mind.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

“Alright, alright. Let’s do something fun though.” Your big eyes sparkle as the possibilities run through your mind. “Wanna get a room at the Waldorf and sneak into the pool?”

“Um...The archdiocese doesn’t really pay in that tax bracket, so...” He reminds you with a pointed look.

“Okay,” You roll your eyes at his adorable but antiquated assumption that he’s expected to pay. “Well, I don’t like to throw this around on the Island of Lost Toys, but daddy did alright for himself on Wall Street after he escaped Crockett, so. If I wanna stay at the Waldorf, that’s what I’m gunna do.”

Brows lifting, he looks you over. Amusement twitching at the corners of his mouth, he shakes his head more at himself than at you, knowing he’s resolved to follow anywhere you lead.

“Spoiled little princess.”

“And here I was ready to invite you along with me.” Flashing him a cheeky smile over your shoulder, you lean into the street and hail for a cab.

“I’m still coming with you. Even if you make me sleep in the bathtub. I’m not letting you wander around New York City alone at night.”

“Don’t be silly, Paul. We both know you would never fit in a hotel bathtub. Not even at the Waldorf.”

~~~

“This is a bad idea.” He glances around nervously, holding a towel from the room in his hands.

You want to call him out for thinking he has the right to adjourn over what is and isn’t a bad idea after bringing a demon-angel back to Crockett Island from the Holy Land. But you decide to let it go for now.

“It was a $300 cash tip, Paul. The security guy is not gunna fuck us over. Relax, sweetheart.” Leaning up on your toes, you brush a kiss to his jawline and flash him a smile.

Mike, the security guy you’d bribed to give you after hours pool access stands at the end of the fitness center's empty hallway.

“Only an hour or two. I’m off at 1am, so I need this back in time to wipe the drive.”

“Sir, yes sir.” You give Mike your best salute and he hands you the key card in exchange. “See you in an hour, captain.”

“Have fun.” He eyes Paul up as if he’s a bit jealous this is being wasted on a man who looks like he’s got a prescription medication for his allergy to fun. But that’s kind of the point. You can’t imagine your… - okay boyfriend seems not the right word… and you can’t call him your lover...well, whatever he is - you can’t imagine the last time he had some proper breaking and entering fun. If ever. It's not like any girls on Crockett are trouble in the way that you always have been.

The harsh fluorescent lights inside the pool room are off and you leave them that way. The kinder, golden lights embedded inside the pool walls seem more than enough.

Shedding your sweater and boots slowly, you let your eyes brush across the room to Paul. It occurs to you only in this moment why he’s really nervous about this entire thing. Sure, you’ve cuddled and you’ve kissed. But you’ve never undressed for each other. His hoodie falls to a nearby lounge chair. Then his t shirt. You don’t even try to hide your eyes caressing every inch of his smooth, pale skin.

His shoulders are even broader than you’d realized. Arms and ribs defined in more a way than they have any right to be. You brush your jeans down and kick them away, eyes never leaving his body. Slowly padding backwards towards the pool, you can’t help but pause by the railing, still drinking him in.

“You’re really fucking beautiful…” The words are a whisper on your lips, and barely that.

Brows rising in surprise, you watch him chuckle as if you’re telling a bad joke. Carefully, he pads over to you, the growing bulge in his briefs impossible to hide. Caressing his fingertips along your cheek, then your neck, he stays quiet, waiting for the follow up. For the boot to drop. When you stay silent, he shakes his head a bit and his chest caves slightly like he’s reeling from the effort it takes to let your words sink in.

“That can’t be all you have to say right now.” Wetting his lips, the back of his fingertips grazes slowly along your collarbone, like ice skates on a winter pond. “Please say something else.”

“Like what…?” You try not to laugh, but it’s impossible. Slowly, you step backwards down into the pool. Thankfully, Mike had turned the heat on and the water is blissfully warm against the cool skin of your legs. Taking his hand, you pull gently, refusing to move unless he follows.

He bites his lip hard, glancing over your shoulder like he’s searching for his resolve in the deep end.

“Helena…”

Pulling him down into a kiss, you lose your balance as his weight falls against yours. For a few long moments the whole world is nothing but hot water and his creamy skin and your mouths moving together. Around you, your hair floats like a halo and his legs brush your own as you both roll, kicking to the surface. If there is a heaven, you refuse to believe it could be better than this.

Before he can say much, you’re swimming forward. Standing in the shallows feels anything but romantic when he’s as tall as he is.

“You know we don’t have to, love.” You call back to him as you surface by one of the lights in the deep end. Soaking wet, your skin and hair glow in the golden halo of it. Thinking he’s several yards behind, you focus on brushing the hair out of your face. “We can just”-

Suddenly he’s got a grip on your arm and turns you around to face him. With the water only 6’ deep, he’s able to stand here easily and pin you to the wall while his mouth catches your own.

Whimpering softly, your body trembles in surprise and it takes a second before you’ve recovered enough to react. Snaking your legs around his waist, you wrap one arm securely around his neck and cling like he’s a liferaft. Your mouth tips to the side, deepening the kiss. Fingers brushing up into his wet hair.

Tongue caressing yours, Paul lets his hands wander. Feels along the smooth skin of your thighs. Traces his thumbs across the crest of your ribs, smoothing over each one as if counting to make sure each is accounted for.

The adrenaline hits you all at once as you feel him lift you and the rush of it makes you giggle softly, breathlessly. His own chuckle follows and, as you’re sat on the edge of the pool wall, he pulls you down into another soft kiss. Without a word, your panties are tugged down. Tossed aside, unnecessary.

For a moment, he just looks up at you. All big brown eyes brimming with wanting. A sort of silent understanding passes between you. That he’s never actually done this before. That he’ll need you to guide him. Nodding slowly, you shift your weight enough to rest one hand back against the cement. The other brushes into his hair, fisting gently as you slide a thigh over one of his broad shoulders.

The heat of his mouth finds your folds with ease and your stomach hitches in surprise. Head falling back, you let go of a soft groan, rolling your hips to meet his tongue as it explores through your folds. He catches the squeak of pleasure in your throat easily when he finds your clit. Savors the way you shudder as he tests the spot again.

“Mmmm...right there, baby… mmhmm… that’s so good…” Fingers tightening gently in his hair, you hold him in place so he’s sure of what you want.

Feeling the little bud spasm against the lashing of his tongue, he groans deep in his chest. His hands tighten around your thigh and your hip.

“Can you...put your mouth around it and just…ohhh…” Your eyes roll back hard as he sucks your clit between his lips as if on instinct, as if he knows your needs like his own. As if he can feel your body like you can feel his. Nails dragging firmly between his shoulder blades, you grind your hips lightly, desperate.

“So fucking good, baby...you’re so fucking good...yes…”

A growl rumbles in his throat from all your praise and you swear you can feel his toes curling against the pool floor. You’re so sure you can feel the blood rushing through his body, making him ache for you until it hurts.

Panting softly, you grip his shoulder hard as he brings you right to the edge. You have to cover your own mouth to muffle the scream as you shake hard in his hands. Everything bursts into dizzying spirals, like a thousand stars combusting inside of you. Across the whole universe. Maybe both all at once.

“Ohhhh…” Paul’s tongue laps eagerly through your cum, like a kitten tasting milk for the first time and it makes your aftershocks nearly ramp up into another full blown orgasm. Legs trembling, you gently nudge him back. Lean down to kiss him with a grin on your pretty mouth. “Hmm...good job, baby...thank you.”

Slowly you slide down into the pool again and wrap yourself around his body all over again. Curiously, you can no longer feel him hard against you.

“Did you…” Pulling back to find his eyes, you search him out. You’ve never met a man you could finish without even touching him. Granted… it’s very likely been decades for him. Gods, and then decades on top of that. As long as you’d imagined he’d been waiting, you realize now as the ‘restored by the blood of angels’ thing comes back to you, he’s actually been left lonely so much longer than that. A whole god damn lifetime.

Dark pink in his cheeks, he nods and dips his head to nudge your cheek with his nose.

“It’s the blood… I fed you some that night after you fainted. To heal you. But… it allows us to…”

“Feel each other?”

He nods again, almost sheepishly. Suddenly, a thought occurs to you and you can’t help the wicked grin it draws out.

“So if I were to stay up all night… thinking of you… touching myself…”

Head tipping back, Paul drags in a deep breath. Your nose wrinkles as you giggle in amusement.

“I imagine I would...be able to feel that too. Yes.” Kissing your forehead, you feel the tip of his nose nuzzling your skin as he shakes his head in disbelief at how relentless you are in your torture. “Thank you for putting that very sinful thought in my mind.”

“Yeah, but technically that’s not a sin. Right? Technically.”

“Technically, it’s a sin for me to even… think about you that way.”

“Oh. So, no confessing to my local priest about how good you are with your tongue then?” You give him an innocently questioning glance and it earns you a gentle swat to your backside.

“Don’t you dare come into my confessional, little girl.” Despite his words, Paul is laughing heartily at the thought. If you had any intention of behaving yourself, his attitude on the matter might be different. But you both know that you’d never walk into his church with holy intentions.

“Yes, father.” You tease him with a sigh across his neck, nipping the smooth skin there with your teeth. He has such a beautiful neck, it always takes every fiber of restraint in your body to ignore the constant impulse screaming at you to ravage the skin there with your tongue and teeth and lips.

“Good girl.” Groaning softly in response, Paul pushes away from the wall so he can just float with you. As he buries his nose in your skin. And you lose yourself in a daydream. A fantasy where things are completely different.

Where the pool is a Roman bath and the hotel is a palace and you're a princess who doesn't have to answer to anyone. Least of all, the islanders of a small fishing village. It's so easy to imagine, so clear in your mind... it almost feels like a past life.

#father paul x reader #father paul imagine #midnight mass fanfiction #happy smut sunday babes #helena x paul #c: helena belleforest #my writing #story: come away to the water

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haikyuuuuuhypeeeee · 3 years

Text

Can't Stay

Suna Rintarou x Reader (2.8k wc)

Inspired by: Can't Stay by Nokiaa & Dontcry

⚠WARNING: Soft Suna (so soft it might give you a heart attack,) romance with light angst (no fighting or arguing,) some overall feels but it ends on a somewhat happy note!

Suna opens his eyes and immediately wishes he didn’t.

He’s not greeted with a bad sight - on the contrary it’s one of his favorites. He’s in his bed, wrapped in a ridiculous fluffy down comforter. His head rests on two big pillows. The king-sized bed is more than large enough for his tall frame.

Pre-dawn light, just barely there, can be seen through the sheer curtains. It’s early enough that street lights are still on - from the bed Suna can see the lights bathing the streets in a soft glow.

He continues staring out the window, waiting for the treacherous sun to show its face. Maybe he can glare it into submission, put enough fear in the celestial body that it will run away, never to return. The sun never comes, days never turn over, thus suspending time itself.

If such an event were to occur it would not be because Suna willed it to happen. And it would cause catastrophic mayhem to the entire planet, and probably the solar system. But it would also give Suna a bit more time to remain in this moment.

He’s ruminating on the thought when an arm wraps around his waist.

“Please tell me you went to sleep last night.” You mumble sleepily.

Suna immediately turns his attention to you, bringing you into his arms. “I did,” he whispers his reply.

You hum and nuzzle into his neck. “Good. Or else you’d kill Motoya on the flight and it’d be a whole thing.”

Suna thinks of his disgustingly cheerful and chirpy teammate and sighs. “I think I’d be doing the night owls and insomniacs of the world a favor then.”

Suna feels your laugh against his neck, quickly followed by lips pressing against his pulse point. When the quick peck turns into a series of quick, persistent pecks, he chuckles. “I thought you got enough last night.”

You hum again, giving one final kiss before sitting up to give Suna a tired smile. “I could never get enough of you.”

You say the words fondly, but Suna can hear the underlying sadness in them. The subtle tang of loneliness that’s been lingering in the air since yesterday, it’s presence only increasing every hour that passed.

It now settles in the room like a heavy fog, keeping Suna confined to the bed. He wouldn’t even mind if the fog was a real, tangible barrier, physically stopping him from leaving. Then he’d be here, with you.

But he can’t stay.

“C’mon,” you say gently. You rise from your place on Suna’s chest, from your home in his arms. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and look back over your shoulder. “I’ll make you a quick breakfast before you have to go.”

Suna stays in bed as you drift into the bathroom. He hears the sink turn on as you prepare for the day.

It’s a way too early start for you, and it being a Saturday, you have nowhere you need to be. But without a doubt, Suna can expect you to be up, urging him out of bed, preparing a quick breakfast, and sending him off.

It’s more than he deserves, but he knows it’s not just for him.

It’s prolonging the inevitable as long as possible, holding onto the close proximity you both share for just a big longer. Before he has to leave.

Suna hears the shower turn on - it’s your subtle reminder that Suna has to get up and out of bed.

He curses the V. League schedule as he walks into the bathroom. He curses his genes and natural talent for giving him the necessary skills to play professional volleyball as he undresses. He curses himself for not having a heart of ice as he gets into the shower.

Suna frowns to himself, and takes back that last thought. He doesn’t regret his relationship with you at all. He doesn’t. You are the best thing to ever happen to him.

For Suna’s entire life, he’s never experienced anything that ~sparked joy~ He has his likes (messing with people, chuupets, gathering blackmail) and he has his dislikes (school, sweet potatoes, people not letting him keep said blackmail.)

Volleyball has been the closest thing to have given Suna some sort of purpose in life. But that’s really only because his skills were honed at a powerhouse school, his coaches had connections in the volleyball world that other kids would have killed for, and he was blessed with a physique meant to crush the hopes and dreams of volleyball spikers.

It’s crazy how Suna fell into professional volleyball - how it was to either sign with the EJP out of high school or go through a few more years of high-level education and get a job as a salaryman (yuck.)

So Suna played. And he kept playing, because his team liked him and his coaches liked him. His manager wasn’t too keen with him - not for his performance, but because Suna said no to every sponsorship opportunity that came his way. He just wasn’t interested.

(Save for one - in exchange for free onigiri for life, Suna has to tweet “@onigirimiya” once a week forever. His manager had a conniption when she found out. So did Atsumu, but that’s because he still has to pay full price for the food.)

A few years passed since his debut, and Suna’s opinion on his life was still meh. Not bad, but not great. Something could be missing, but he didn’t care enough to find it.

Until you came into his life.

The moment he saw you, nothing happened. It was after a MSBY and EJP game and both teams were out at a bar with friends and family. Motoya introduced you as a friend of his cousin’s from college. Or a friend of a friend from a coffee shop, maybe. Suna didn’t know and he didn’t really care.

He started to care when you pointed and laughed at Atsumu for spilling his beer down his front. And he cared when you shared embarrassing story after embarrassing story about Omi-omi from college(to Motoya and Atsumu’s visible glee.)

But the moment that changed his life, the one that turned his world on his axis, was when Atsumu tripped yet again, but this time his drink went all over Suna. And before he could even threaten to throttle the clumsy dipshit he heard the tell-tale sound of a CLICK, and a flash brightened the bar briefly.

Suna looked up, scanning the room for a fellow shit-stirrer. And his eyes met your smug smirk behind your phone.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You called airly. “I’m just documenting this for posterity.”

Suna remembers that very clearly. Well, not really. He can’t remember jack shit about what Atsumu did after, or Motoya or Sakusa. He doesn’t care. But he very clearly remembers your smile, tinted with mischief, and the bright flash of your camera cataloging this more-than-embarrassing moment for Suna.

It sparked the biggest explosion of joy Suna had ever felt.

Not even sparks, but fireworks of joy clashing and booming in Suna’s chest. Cannons firing explosions of happiness. Just loud and wild euphoria shaking Suna to his very core, making his heart thump as speeds it’s never gone, filling his head with nothing but you. His life, grey and dreary, had been drenched in color, all vibrant and bright.

And the rest was history.

History that included Suna feeling more joy than he could possibly explain. He’s fallen in love with you, found a home with you, experienced a world not just through his changed eyes but through yours as well. There’s highs, there’s lows, but there has always been you.

Which is why days like today hurt like hell.

Suna rushes through his shower, intent on being by your side until the very last second. He drops his shampoo on his foot, swearing at the pain he feels at the impact on his big toe.

He hates this, hates this with a burning passion. The countdown to leaving, making his movements frantic and making him rush. His stupid commitment to his job that he doesn’t even like, taking him from the one this he loves.

He hates it.

Suna sighs, and begins to wash his hair. He pretends that the stinging in his eyes is the shampoo getting in them.

~~~

You sigh heavily, watching the coffee percolate into the carafe. In the quiet of your kitchen you let yourself sink into the sadness that’s made itself at home.

It’s not new but you haven’t gotten used to it. You don’t think you ever will.

You force it down when Suna’s around. He knows that you’re miserable too, but you don’t have to give him any incentive to stay. Especially when he can’t.

He’s ranted before, vowing to quit volleyball - give it all up and burn all the bridges with a smile. Usually these rants come after you tell him you miss him, or if he’s out at a celebration and he’s been drinking.

The first few times it happened you were surprised. Not just at Suna’s vehement threats, but because he was 100% serious. The very first time Suna had tried to quit, he had been gone for a long stretch of away games, and you choked up a bit when you had said ‘I miss you’ over the phone. And apparently the next day Suna went to his coach, intent on leaving the team. His coach was ready to pull out the contracts and get lawyers involved and a whole bunch of other legal jargon, and the relationship between the two was far from friendly for awhile. Things calmed down after awhile, especially after you had gotten a frantic call from Suna’s manager imploring you to talk him down (and to try and talk him into taking more endorsement deals.)

It was a phone call you’d remember for a long time - Montoya was the one who had picked up the phone, giggling because Suna had been busy getting reamed out by their captain. Then the phone had been passed to other team members, catching up with them and joking about a situation you really didn’t know much about. And when you had finally got the chance to talk to your boyfriend, he was pretty tight-lipped about why he was getting in trouble. But he did assure you that no he wasn’t quitting, and no he wasn’t getting kicked off the team.

By the time he returned home things between Suna and his coach were smoothed over and everyone was acting like nothing serious happened. You wanted some answers but you also didn’t want to pry. If you had to guess you would say that your phone conversation was the catalyst to that series of events. And while nothing extreme happened, it made you decide to withhold the details of your current emotional state while Suna was on the road.

You’re not necessarily hiding your feelings. You can’t do that with Suna - he’d sniff them out like a bloodhound. But he doesn’t need to know how hard it is when he goes away. But it’s his job, and he has a responsibility to perform it well. Suna is an honorable man, not the kind to shirk responsibilities or just up and leaving his team in a lurch.

And despite his apathetic view on his career, you know he cares a whole lot about volleyball. Because to him it’s not just the sport - it’s the challenge, the mind games, the comradery, the support he has with his team. It’s stuffing one of Ushijima’s canon spikes. It’s shoving a setter dump into Atsumu‘s sputtering face. It’s navigating around Aran’s block to land a kill. He loves messing with people, and he can do it in a professional setting and not get in trouble for it. Because, you know, the whole point of the game is to win.

And that’s partly why it’s easy to let him go when he can’t stay.

You finish plating breakfast, pouring the coffee as Suna enters the kitchen. He’s dressed in his EJP tracksuit, glaring at the ground. You see his face soften when he sees you and he makes a beeline towards you. You open your arms and let him find solace.

“What time is the car coming?” You ask quietly, bringing a hand up to his hair.

“Fifteen minutes.” He mumbles. If you feel his arms squeeze around you, you don’t mention it.

Instead you lead him to the table, let him pull a chair close to yours, and eat breakfast together in silence. You revel in this peace, knowing it’s short-lived.

“At least I’ll be able to pick you up at the airport when you come back.” You say as you both finish your coffees.

Suna looks at you, his hand still at its place on your thigh. “It’ll be late, and you’ll have work in the morning.”

“I took the day after off.” You smile when you see him blush, grabbing the plates to dump them in the sink. You’ll do them later, while you clean through the house to distract from how empty it’ll be soon.

Suna is quick to follow you and give you a hug from behind. “You’re too good to me.”

You lean back, tilting your head to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I know.” You both stand at the sink, enjoying each other’s company for a little bit longer.

He may think you’re too good for him, but it’s the opposite. He’s too good for you. You were skeptical about being in a relationship with an athlete. You weren’t dumb, you knew many had…..families in other cities. Other partners, other apartments. You didn’t want to assume that was the case with Suna, but you were wary. And you also knew of the enticing offers players got to play overseas. You weren’t going to live in Japan while he played in Europe, that wasn’t fair to you. So you were cautious. You only gave away your heart in pieces, minuscule at first to minimize the pain that would come should this relationship dissolve.

But your caution slowly diminished as time went on. It diminished when Suna would Facetime you every night from his hotel room. When he would ditch team outings at bars and clubs to see your face, no matter how grainy the pixels made it. When he flew home on red eye flights, in economy, hunkering down in the seats not meant for people his height, instead of flying first class with his team, just so he could get home sooner. Get to you sooner.

When Motoya mentioned to you that he noticed a difference in how seriously Suna takes the game now. When Suna’s manager thanked you tearfully for helping Suna take on a sponsorship deal or two. When there were talks of Suna joining the National team and playing for his home country. When he signed contract extensions with EJP, keeping him in Japan.

When he presented you with an offer to move into a house you wouldn’t dream of affording on your own, but when pressed he said it was his and yours. When he started talking about pets, and kids, and a future that was his and yours. When you found the small black box in his sock drawer, which held a lifelong promise Suna wanted to make to you.

(At the time you couldn’t help but laugh at the complete fool, tickled at the thought that your large, conniving boyfriend thought this secret was safe in his sock drawer. Who does he think does he think doeslaundry?)

So you were wary to begin with, as a lot of people going into new relationships will be. But as time went by, it faded away. Suna’s actions and decision demonstrated how committed he was to you, and how determined he was to do right by you.

It also helped that you knew he was your soulmate, your complete other half. As your weariness went away, your monochromatic life was filled with colors, as if someone slowly turned up the saturation dial. It wasn’t instantaneous but each day together, Suna brought more and more brightness into your life.

And that’s why these sad days aren’t so bad.

It hurts, yes, being away from your soulmate. But it’s a beautiful sort of pain, right? Isn’t it so wondrous that something exists to nearly split your heart in two? That you can feel this kind of pain because you have a love that strong? It’s so strong that you can trust Suna to go and know that he’ll come back to you.

Even if he doesn’t want to go.

“Suna, the car is here.”

“No.”

“I mean, yes it is. I can see it.”

“No.”

“Baby.”

“No.”

“You can’t stay.”

He doesn’t reply, and you know that means he is genuinely upset. From the front door you see the cab waiting patiently for you and Suna to say your goodbyes. You’re grateful that you tend to get the same driver, because every time Suna has to leave he adds at least another fifteen minutes to the departure. You don’t mind it, but you know that he has to keep to his schedule.

You sigh and hug him tighter. “You know, the sooner you leave the sooner you can come home.”

You look up to see his brow furrow and his lips purse into the tiniest of pouts.

“I guess that’s true.” He finally concedes. “But don’t think I’m leaving without a kiss.”

You laugh softly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Suna’s face softens as he dips down to kiss you.

These days are the worst, you and Suna would both happily agree. Being away from the person who drives you and gives you purpose is physically painful. Having to say goodbye to your other half, knowing that all that awaits you are grey-filled days and restless nights spent alone, is unbearable.

But it makes the bitter goodbye sweet, because it’s not a goodbye forever. It’s a goodbye with a promise that he’ll be back, and you’ll be here waiting.

And you two seal that promise with a sweet, soft kiss.

END

A/N: I highly recommend reading this ficlet with the song on repeat, it makes me feel ~so many things~ thinking about making a sequel but I’m not sure hahahah unless 👀 This isn’t part of my September Scribbles challenge, that will start TOMORROW!

Taglist: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @ara-mitsue

#haikyuu!#haikyuu #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu romance #hq romance #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou x y/n #suna rintarou x you

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meloswifeyyy · 3 years

Text

Relationship Alphabet

A - Attitude

Who often has the worst Attitude ?

Well, you obviously. Most of the time because you are hungry or you and Melo just got out of an argument. Melo usually fucks the attitude out of you anywhere, anytime tho.

B - Baby

Who wants Babies the most - first ?

Melo. He often jokes about having kids or when you are having sex he would whisper in your ear “You trynna have my babies?” or “You boutta have my babies ” when he nuts in you. He says that he wants 3 or more. You only want 2. You arent rushing into it.

C - Crying

Who Cries the most in the relationship ?

You. You often cry alone when you miss Melo when he is at away games for so long. Or when your BP triggers, Melo would comfort you. When watching sad movies, or when someone you love dies. Tears of joys appear here and there. Or when you get into arguments and Melo says something wrong or disrespectful out of madness.

D - Dates

Who has the best Date spots ?

Melo. He would often take you to fancy restaurants in L.A or Miami, or wherever you guys went. Or take you shopping at an expensive place. He would do dates at home like watching movies, have you cook dinner because he cant cook for shit, or he would have a bath waiting on you.

E - Eat

Who Eats the most ?

You. You know damn well you cant survive without food. Its the 2nd best thing that has ever happened to you besides life and Melo. Cant even survive a night. If you would wake up in the middle of the night and get hungry and go to kitchen and try to sneak some food without waking Melo up, he would hear it and go to the kitchen and scare you, picking you up over his shoulder with one arm, and with the other putting the food away carrying you back to the bed because its a little to early in the morning to be eating.

F - Freak

Who is the Freakiest ?

Both of you. You being the only girl that can fuck Melo like you do, and being the only girl Melo is sexually, physically, and mentally attracted to no other girl can do it like you.10/10 in bed. Now Melo on the other hand is a demon in bed. His strokes, hitting your G - Spot constantly with you feeling it in your guts. His 9 inch is almost always on hard when he is around you. And his tongue is crazy, going in and out and on the pearl AT THE SAME TIME. Crazy right. Spelling his name out on you. He loves when you scratch his back up or give him hickeys everywhere. 10000/10. Makeup sex is the best.

G - Games

Who wins the most games ?

Melo. He would always dare you to a game of Call of Duty or Fortnite to see who would win first. And he would always win. When you would play a game of Uno you would often win and he would be mad the rest of the day due to his competitiveness. But any other game he would win.

H - Happy

Who is the Happiest in the relationship ?

Both of you. You are always happy when you guys are around each other. Even when you guys just got done arguing you are still happy that he is in your presence. Melo on the other hand is always happy with you around him, he loves to cuddle with you. Its one of his favorite thing to do. He just loves that you are in his presence. You are his other half.

I - Irreplaceable

Who is the most Irreplaceable ?

You would say Melo but Melo would say you. Melo knows how to deal with you more than anyone else does. He knows all your spots and what you like and dont like. He notices all of your flaws and sees the good and beautiful in them. He knows your body, mind, and soul. No man has a better or brighter or bigger smile than him. He always brightens the mood. You on the other hand are different. A big beautiful smile. You know how to deal with Melo when he is sad, looses a game. You can tell when he is lying or telling the truth just by looking through his eyes. You know how to make him happy. You are the best he has ever had.

J - Jaded

Who gets the most Jaded after doing something ?

Melo. He usually gets really bored after sitting in the house all day. He really wants to leave the house and do something fun but usually its night time and you would be taking a nap or would be sleep.

K - Kisses

Who gives the most kisses?

Melo. He is always so clingy and that comes with all the kisses in the world. He kisses you all over your face in your sleep, even when you are sleep he gives you kisses. He loves to kiss all over your body.

L - Love

Who fell in love the fastest?

Melo. He had always had a crush on you and everyone knew you were the one for him. You just didn’t know it until you two started dating. He’s always making sure you are good. He loves your hugs. He was the first one to say “I love you”. He want kids you to have all 10 of his kids.

M - Motivation

Who gives the most motivation?

You. When melo is going to a game and is not having a good feeling about it you motivate him to push through it and win for you. 9/10 he will win or get a lot of points for you.

N - Night Owl

Who is more of a Night Owl?

Both of you. Sometimes when his ADHD is on 10 you guys stay up and listen to music, play games, go on ig live, or just fuck for 7 hours straight. Sometimes you have to tell him to got to sleep or put him to sleep (😏) because he has a game tomorrow and needs all the rest and energy he can get. It also the same for you.

O - Oral Sex

Who gives Oral Sex the most?

Melo. Trust me, you give him head a lot and it’s amazing, 10/10. But melo loves giving you head. He loves to spell his name out on you. Loves to see the faces to make you scream and shout. Loves sharing your cream with you (🥲). He loves to climb under the blanket while you are sleep for some breakfast in bed. Maybe even dinner. His lips make it even better. So glad he don’t got them white genes in his lips (😋😭).

P - Perfect

Whos perfect?

Obviously, no ones perfect but God (🙏🏾). But in your eyes no one else is better for you except melo. You couldnt imagine living life without him. Cant imagine what anyones elses kids would look like with you but. No relationship is perfect. Melo sees you as perfect. Your body. Your style. Your personality. He absolutely loves your touch. He loves touch but for you loving your touch is an understatement. He couldnt imagine his kids with anyone else but you. Cant imagine getting married with anyone else. When you guys get into arguments and sleep in seperate rooms. You barely get sleep because all you can think about is each other. How perfect you guys are for one another.

Q - Q? (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

R - Relate

What traits do you guys have a like each other?

A lot. Both of your favorite food is Chicken tacos. You both love a good game of Uno. You both love sex. Duhh. Both of you guy’s love language is touch. Love playing fortnite together. Love listening to music and taking drives together. Both love lil uzi (we pretending yall💀). Just in general you guys are very alike.

S - Sex

(No question for this one lol. Y’all already know how we is round hea nahhmeannn😭)

The sex. Omgggg. The first time you and melo had sex was. So amazing. Can’t ever forget that moment. Melo is always so horny. Morning sex is the best. Sometimes a little top at the red light can turn into a few rounds in back of the McDonalds parking lot. Lucky enough all his windows tinted as hell. Or in the Victoria’s Secret fitting rooms. You guys could be listening to Chris Brown and he would really take you down, fuck you back to sleep, switch up the tempo, or make you wet the bed (i’m laughing hard ash). The hickeys. The high sex. Drunk sex (drunnnnkkk in lovvveee). Car sex. Balcony sex. All over the house sex ( i got bars.) Mad sex and Make up sex. I could go on. Sex with me so amazinggggg. (i was listening to this song while writing this one💀😫😫😫)

T - Trips

Who likes taking trips internationally?

Melo. He love to take you and a yearly or even monthly vacay. Just you and him. Turks and Caicos. Bora Bora. Jamaica. Iceland. Japan. Africa. Anywhere where you can get away from the world. The different places. The hotels. Being able to fuck anywhere and everywhere. The pools. The different air. (united states ait is so boring). The new food. The animals. You guys love the new places. He loves to see you happy and with a smile on your face.

U - U (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

V - V (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it again.)

W - Right the Wrongs

Who rights their wrongs after an argument?

Usually it would be you first. If you said something that was out of pocket or melo didnt like you woukd quickly apologize. He would forgive you and still cuddle and kiss you and stuff because thats what he does. Tease you. But he would ignore you until he actually forgave you in his head. Melo would apologize and give you some bomb ass d for and apology. Or make that cute face that you can’t resist.

X - (Can’t find a word for X. Give me a suggestion and i will edit it)

Y - Young

Who acts like a Young ass child?

Both of you actually. That’s what makes you love each other the most. The laughs and jokes, the tv shows, everything you could think of. It’s nothing wrong with it at all. Y’all are always gonna bust a joke out at the right time. Maybe sometimes even the wrong time. (damn, double homicide). You guys love laughing with each other.

Z - ZZZ

Who has the worst sleeping habits?

Probably Melo. If you scooted over him even a little bit, he would probably scoot back closer to you or pull you back over to him. And the only con of that is he snores a lot. (Why this nigga snore with his mouth open?🤨💀). Sometimes if he was awake and you werent he would kiss all over you. He loves to lay on your 🍒.

Y’all welcome. I haven’t pose the one of these in a minute. This took me a whole month and a half. I’m tired as hell. 💀

#lamelo ball #melo imagine #lamelo imagine

262 notes · View notes

thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Seeker - D.M.

Seeker- Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (unspecified house but not slytherin)

Warnings: none! just lots of fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: This is my first ever fic! I hope I potray Draco accurately! Feel free to D.M. me for any requests or anything like that. I’d also really love feedback, positive or negative. Special thanks to my friend Ocean, who is an amazing author and editor <3

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name - Y/L/N is Your Last Name - Y/H is Your House

----

Draco Malfoy.

Anyone who has ever graced the steps of Hogwarts during his reign is bound to have heard the name. The poor first years hear about the hexing of their friends after so much as glancing at his striking blond hair. The second year Quidditch players hear about his skill and precision on a broom. Even the O.W.L.s-stressed fifth years hear of his (almost) unparalleled smarts.

You, of course, heard all these things too. You’d seen firsthand his occasional ruthlessness. There was no doubt in your mind he was a force to be reckoned with. You never let his daunting image intrude your thoughts, however. He would never have a reason to bother you; so why should you care what he did?

That all seemed true until Quidditch results came back for your house. Your eyes scanned over names on the list until you saw your name next to the title of Seeker. You were thrilled to be on the team. You worked so hard over the summer, waking up at dawn to fly laps around the lush forests by your home.

After everyone in the common room was informed of your new title, they all congratulated you for what seemed like hours. They all chanted “Y/N!�� at the top of their lungs or gave you encouraging pats on the back. After a while of sober celebration, someone finally managed to sneak in a few bottles of Firewhiskey. You eagerly downed a shot or two before your head started to feel fuzzy. The music and chatter of the party seemed to make your head pound, and you decided you needed some fresh air to clear your head.

The moment you stepped out of the bustling common room, you felt way better. Your whole body calmed, releasing the tension you didn’t know you had. While you could still very well feel the effects of the Firewhiskey, you felt clear enough to walk all the way to the Owlery.

The Owlery had always been a place of comfort for you. You had never owned an owl for yourself, instead opting for an adorable black cat, but something about the flying creatures comforted you. Maybe it was their piercing yellow eyes or their fluffy feathers that seemed to stick out in any direction, or maybe just because they remind you of whenever your mother’s owl brings sweet letters at breakfast every month.

The air tonight was chilly, but you were simply grateful that it was too early in the year for snow because whenever Hogwarts was covered in soft white blankets, the steps up to the Owlery were dangerously icy. Thankfully, the only things on the steps were your boots and the occasional fluttering orange leaf.

Once you reached the top, you breathed a sigh of relief. The thoughts of you becoming the new Seeker came back to you and you were able to celebrate a little bit again. Before you could fully imagine yourself flying around the Quidditch pitch in search of the shiny Golden Snitch, you were interrupted suddenly by none other than Draco Malfoy’s taunting words.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Y/L/N?”

You froze. In all the times you had been to the Owlery at night, this was the first time you had company. And his company at that. His voice seemed strong and almost amused. Before you could give him a response, he kept going.

“You’re the new Y/H Seeker, aren’t you? Maybe this year I’ll have some actual competition, though I doubt it.”

You felt your face heat up in rage, a feeling you rarely expressed. The Firewhiskey must’ve brought it out of me, you thought with a sigh. You knew you wouldn’t want to say something you’d regret, especially to your new Slytherin rival.

“I think you might be pleasantly surprised, Malfoy. I’ve been training all summer.”

Draco didn’t deserve to know that you had been practicing all summer, and the summer before that, but you inexplicably felt the need to prove yourself to him. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you, though.

“And I’ve been training for Quidditch since I could walk, Y/N. You’re not special.”

His comment stung a little. But you knew you deserved to be Seeker, and you could prove that to him next match.

“What brings you up here so late anyways?”

“That, Y/L/N, is none of your concern. I could, however, ask you the same thing.”

“Just getting away from the crowd is all. The Common Room’s loud as all hell.” Why did you tell him that? He didn’t need to know anything about you or your common room.

Draco pulled up the sleeve of his black blazer, presumably looking at his watch. You didn’t notice how Draco’s platinum blond hair shined so handsomely in the moonlight until he pushed himself off of the wall he was so casually leaning on to walk towards you.

“It’s past curfew, Y/N. I could so easily tell my Slytherin prefects that I found you out so late at night, especially after a loud night in the Common Room…” The smirk on his face as he looked up into your eyes was so charming but mischievous.

“You wouldn’t da-” you muttered, before quickly getting cut off.

“I won’t tell them, though, only because I plan on crushing you next game. The look on your face as I hold the Snitch will be priceless.”

You desperately tried to find some way to rebut what he said, but his words it seemed, took the air from your lungs. You watched him, stunned, as he casually handed a black envelope to what you assumed was his owl. As the owl flew out of the window and into the pitch-black sky, he walked towards the doorway, which you happened to still be standing in.

He purposely brushed your shoulder as he walked past you and down the stairs. Without even looking back, he simply said, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You stood there, almost breathless. That had quite possibly been the strangest and most unexpected interaction you’ve ever had. You’d always seen Draco as some stereotypical bully, but you never realized how truly witty and quick-on-his-feet he was. He would be a tough opponent, both on the field and off.

----

Quidditch practice these past few weeks has been very tiring but helpful. Every time you mounted your broom it made you feel that much more confident, which was good because you needed as much of that as you could get if you wanted to even stand a chance against Draco. By the time the first match came around, you felt as though you could easily beat the green-jerseyed players.

The practice room pep-talk before the game was finally the moment your confidence was cemented. As your captain stood on the bench, yelling and inspiring, you were on top of the world. You could see Malfoy zooming on his broom far behind you as you reached for the Snitch, its shiny metal now covered up with your worn leather gloves. You could hear the crowd cheering your name as Draco sat in awe of you.

That daydream was short-lived however when everyone got up from the benches to grab their brooms and fly into the stadium. As you proudly mounted your broom, a sudden spike of anxiety hit your chest. Of all the times nerves had to hit, did it have to be two seconds before the match began?

The stadium was filled to the brim with students from each of the four houses. The large pillars of red, yellow, blue, and green emitted cheers as your team glided on the field, doing a fun formation along with it. Not long after, the green and silver-clad team swooped onto the field. They flew around the oval-shaped pitch in the shape of a very coordinated V. It was more intimidating than you’d like to admit.

As the Slytherins settled down and hovered in the air, ready for the match to start, you saw Malfoy send you an intimidating glare. You rolled your eyes in return before the referee shouted a loud, “brooms up!”

With those simple two words, you darted off towards the top of the pitch. You gripped the broom as if your life depended on it, which it might. Your eyes scanned the field for any signs of the snitch before you saw a flash of blonde next to you.

“Scared, Y/L/N?” Draco spat, clearly trying to tease you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You smirked, your gaze reaching his enticing silver eyes. He cocked his eyebrow at you, playfully, before you sped off, the air from the tail of your broom blowing his pale locks over his eyes.

The Golden Snitch had caught your eye while you hovered up with Malfoy, and now you surely had the advantage. You were mere feet away from the golden snitch, with the blonde Seeker trailing behind you. The crowd sat captivated, wondering who would reach the snitch first. Just as your fingers brushed the golden sphere, it shot straight up, out of your grasp. You both wasted no time shooting upwards on your brooms. He was now at your side, both your arms reached up to the sky.

Suddenly, you felt the metal of the snitch in the palm of your gloves. But you also felt something else, and you almost fell off your broom at the sight of Draco’s fingers intertwined with yours, both of your palms wrapped around the snitch.

Without hesitation, you both recoiled from each other, your interwoven hands breaking apart, which sent the snitch flying. Your face got red and hot with embarrassment, and by the expression and color of Draco’s face, he felt the same. He managed to mime himself gagging before he swooped in the opposite direction in search of the snitch once again.

----

As you stepped through the painting guarding your common room, you could already hear the screams and cheers. Some people chanted your name, some people talked about the highlights from the match, and there was loud music blaring in the background. Your close victory that afternoon definitely produced some happy house-mates.

You weren’t in much of partying mood tonight though. The match had worn you out, and you were ready to lay down. You did have a lot to think about, after all. The way you and Draco’s hands fit together perfectly around the snitch, or the way his face contorted into a frown when the Slytherins accepted defeat. Or even the way, when your team picked you up in celebration,, a smile pricked at the sides of his mouth, barely noticeable.

You didn’t know why you couldn’t get Draco out of your mind. You guys were rivals, but the way his image played back in your mind, you didn’t feel hatred. You didn’t feel a big success by proving what he said in the Owlery wrong.

You finally came to the conclusion that maybe it was because you thought he was handsome. Just a little bit, of course. The way his blonde hair blew in the wind was attractive, sure, but you didn’t like him or anything. You’d never even talked to him before the night at the Owlery. He was just the Slytherin Seeker, as you were just the Y/H Seeker to him. Simple.

Except, you didn’t know that he also thought the same about you. The way you smiled in victory after his (very close) loss made it sting just a little bit less. The disapproving stares from his fellow green-wearing peers didn't hurt his pride as much when he remembered you two’s hands together around the snitch.

It’s only because she’s my rival, he thought to himself, but he couldn’t even fool himself with that lie. All he really knew was, he had to talk to you tomorrow.

----

“Congrats on the win yesterday, Y/N. But don’t think next time I won’t hesitate to push you off that cheap broom of yours.” Draco spat. He never really had a way with words, especially with people he took interest in. He really did try to make it as nice as he could.

You merely smirked at his comment as you sat down at your table in the Great Hall. “It’s okay, Draco. I know you just can't accept that you got beat.” He huffed a bit at your comment, but his expression quickly changed to that of a sarcastic smile.

He reached across the table and grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice, much to your surprise. Just as quickly, he sat down next to you. You finally got a good look, and smell, of him for the first time. His silver eyes and blonde hair looked as alluring as ever, and he smelled really good, like green apples and cologne.

Just as you were about to ask why he decided to sit with you, of all people, he stated, “It’s rude to stare, you know?”

“Sorry, it’s just weird seeing someone in those green robes of yours sitting at our table.” You replied sheepishly, snapping out of your trance.

He only let out a small chuckle before grabbing a green apple from the middle of the table. He gave it a small toss before looking back at you. You glanced into his eyes, which apparently you like to get lost in, but you couldn’t read what emotion ran through them.

“Why did you decide to sit here, by the way? Don’t you have some first years to hex?” You asked, partially defensive and partially curious.

Your friends, and some other fellow house-mates, all watched in anticipation for his response, but instead he said, “If my prescence bothers you that much, I can just go back to my table. My ego won’t be too hurt.” He gave his signature smirk at the end of the sentence, clearly not taking it seriously.

“I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I don’t mind the Slytherin prince sitting at our table for one day. Two may be pushing it.” He didn’t answer your question though, about why he wanted to sit here. It did seem a little odd, but you weren’t complaining.

“Very funny. Well, I’m afraid I can’t stay much longer. I have more pressing matters, like preparing to absolutely crush you next Quidditch match.”

He left just as fast as he had come, still grasping the green apple in his hand. Once he was back to his throne at the Slytherin table, you glanced down to where he was previously sitting, only to find a shiny black envelope resting on the bench. It had your initials written down in silver ink, the same shade as his eyes. You quickly shoved it beneath your robes, so your friends wouldn’t see.

Once you were safely out of the field of vision of the Great Hall, you broke the emerald green seal of the envelope. You pulled out a crisp, white piece of parchment. Your eyes read the inked black text, which read:

That’s strange, you thought, he’s top of the class for potions. Why would he need my notes? You quickly brushed it off as you just overthinking. Clearly, he only sat at our table and wrote me this letter because of stupid Potions class. Right?

I need your Potions notes from last class. Meet me at the astronomy tower at 11.

D.M.

Eleven o’clock came around faster than you expected, and you were rushing out of your dorm in order to make it. Luckily all your dormmates were still up, gossiping the night away. Much to your surprise, they didn’t question where you were going, besides knowing that you had to give a friend some homework. You didn’t blame them, it did seem like a lame way to spend your after-curfew hours.

By the time you had finally gotten to the top, Draco stood with his back to you, his chisled hands holding onto the cold railing. You walked up to him quietly, your Potions homework fluttering in the wind. His eyes weren’t focused on you or your notes though; instead they were pointed at the crystal-clear sky. The moonlight bounced magnificently off of his platinum blonde hair once again, just like it did at the Owlery.

The air was colder than it was last time you had seen him against the inky-black sky, and you started to shiver. All you wanted was to be back within the walls of your cozy dorm. You let a signaling cough emerge from your throat as you leaned against the rail.

Instead of asking about the Potions notes, he asked, “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

His eyes still seemed glued to the shining stars, but you did notice his hand sliding down the rail, closer to you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grumbled, “Yes. I’m freezing!”

He let out a small chuckle as a response before his eyes finally moved to you. “I’ll only be a minute… unless you want to stay longer.”

Despite the uncomfortably cold temperature outside, you felt your cheeks get warmer. You kept telling yourself it was only because he did seem a bit good-looking tonight, dressed in his signature black turtleneck, with a matching long black peacoat on top. Suddenly, the cold didn’t feel so bad.

“Likely, Malfoy. Here’s the Potions notes you asked for.” You slowly handed over the ruffled papers. For a second you thought you saw a look of confusion flash onto his face, but a small grateful smile covered it up almost instantly.

You continued to shiver, and your nose started turning pink. Draco almost felt bad for dragging you up here, for the Potions notes of course, so he sent an enticing offer your way.

“You look absolutely miserable, Y/N. I think if we can sneak into the kitchens, I could make you some tea. Though I do expect a favor from you in return, of course.”

Your eyes lit up at the idea of a warm cup of tea, especially made by none other than Draco Malfoy, who was supposed to be your Quidditch rival. Even you couldn’t come up with an excuse about enjoying his company this time.

----

Draco stood one of the many kitchen counters, swirling an ornate sliver spoon in your warm tea. Once it was stirred to his satisfaction, he handed the steaming cup to you with a warm and genuine smile, one rarely seen by anyone. You smiled back thankfully, before taking a large sip. The tea tasted nearly perfect, which surprised you. Someone who was raised with house elves doing everything for them had made a delicious tea.

“I must say, I’m impressed, Draco. I never pegged you to be a tea expert.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.” His sarcastic and slightly cocky attitude was back once again, though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

After the evidence of your late-night tea making had been erased, he leaned against the counter, a content smile on the corners of his lips. Your shivering was long gone, replaced by a cozy warmth from the tea.

Comfortable silence filled the room for many minutes before he simply said, “You know, Y/N, I’d like to get to know you better. I don’t think we have to be Quidditch rivals, off the field at least.”

“I feel the same. Though don’t get your feelings hurt when I absolutely beat you again.”

“I bet I could get the snitch years before you, with my eyes closed!”

“Like you did the other day, right?” He put up a sarcasticly angry face on, but you could see the fire of determination in his eyes. He really would try to get you next match. But you would never let him.

After a night full of talking with the dashing Slytherin, you soon grew too tired to continue. The tea must’ve made you extra sleepy because soon enough you could barely think straight. You held onto poor Draco for dear life as he carefully walked you back to your common room.

He put on his classic face of annoyance, but underneath you saw that his mind was filled with nothing but admiration. As you finally reached the painting, you withdrew your hand from his shoulder. Since you were so sleepy, he thought you wouldnt notice the loving look on his face as you walked through the doorway. You waved him goodnight.

“Night, love. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled.

And that was the start of something wonderful.

You can read Part 2 here!

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