#another interest might envelop this one but i'm still very much so interested in all gayepo has to offer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gamekids-firewolf · 2 years

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ANYWAY, since I'm still locked out of internet on my desktop, it took me a while to get to posting this here.

Aglaé is a great character he is such a bitch and I love him.

When your teachers told you that your drawings weren't representative of the 'real' you, whatever that meant, you should have known then that the world wasn't as kind to beasts like you as you'd been led to believe.

Your sister is a wonderful beast. Both of your parents love you for all the skeletal shadow creatures you draw. (They praise you for your likeness to the Vicario boy, another phrase you don't really understand but sounds much more positive than your teachers' gentle but patronising remarks.) And since your sister understands what you mean when you say, without hesitation, that you would marry the satyr most of the other kids called "scary" or "gross" in that movie everyone wad afraid of but you found captivating, you decide that it's not really you who's the problem.

The only one to understand you, outside of your family, is Damon.

He's bright and charming. You love watching him discuss his plans with Niculaie and your sister; there's so much excitement to every single one of his movements. He has a glow about him, a zest for life, you reason, that's so appealing. It's irresistible.

Even when you learn that he's already made his proposal to Niculaie (it makes sense, of course. The two of them have been inseparable since before they were school age; you tell yourself this again and again as you're sobbing into your pillow, your tiny little heart broken over this indisputable fact), you can't tear yourself away from him. Your sister is fond of him, and Niculaie isn't that bad really, and Damon exists at the centre of the whole world, it seems.

"I'm going to be the King of Hell." He tells you once while you're on the playground together, him climbing the jungle gym and you sitting in the sand and mushing together formless shapes. You look at him in earnest then as he continues like it's a declaration, like it's something he's got to get out there in the world as often as possible. "I'm the son of the devil. That's what the Rabbit and the Queen have told me. Nanny says it makes me a king, so one day I'm going to rule over all of Hell."

You watch him swing about from bar to bar, looping around so he can stand atop the thing. He does look very kingly. "I'll vote for you." You tell him.

He laughs because it's ridiculous. You don't understand what makes a king a king, but you know that it involves voting. You've heard your parents talking about it, how they've been undefeated in the polls as the heads of the French branch company for years. Even knowing this isn't how it works, though, Damon tells you, with a bright and wide smile, "Thanks. You can be my secretary if you want. A good king always has a great secretary."

(His teeth were crooked then. You can't recall exactly when he returned one day from a trip to Italy and his teeth were perfectly straightened out, but you know he had crooked teeth for a long time.)

(You know a lot of his looks were crooked for a longer time than he likes admitting.)

Once Abraham gets enveloped into your little fold, you finally feel like you might have a chance. Niculaie was never interested in being the Queen of Hell, as Damon kept referring to him, but he's very invested in being the bride to a Huntsman. Even if Abraham wasn't pretty cool and a lot of fun to play made up games with, this fact alone would make you happy with him regardless of anything else. You've been reading every book you can get your hands on (horror are your favourites, though they all end in disappointment, as the monster is usually slain at the end instead of married off or otherwise alive and happily its monster self) and you know you're adequately prepared for any such courtship ritual.

Unfortunately, you hit a snag; Damon loves both Niculaie and Abraham in equal measures.

Damon isn't interested in marrying a lowly secretary.

"You are not just some lowly secretary." Damon tells you when you ask what worth being his secretary actually has one night.

This sleepover has been trying enough, from Abraham getting into a full-on brawl with your sister (for the fun of it, of course, but it still led to a lot of bandaids and bruises) to Niculaie insisting you not watch the very fun and bloody vampire movie you had picked out, but this was the last straw and so you spilled your guts to him when it was just the two of you who were awake. He confessed to you that he considered both Niculaie and Abraham as marriage candidates ("The King of Hell can have two brides!" He proclaimed) and you just broke.

"The secretary is the one who's really in charge." He tells you quite confidently despite the clear contradiction he's painting with his words. "They're always the one making the schedules, deciding what's worth a king's time, and all that."

"But you wanted to be king." You point out.

"I trust you with my whole life, Aglaé." He tells you with a huge grin. (He tells you without realising how much he's manipulating you with that charm of his.) "That's why I want you to stick by my side. You're so smart, you can help us make sure nothing gets in our way."

He's too earnest. You're absolutely putty in his hands.

And so you agree and leave matters at that. It doesn't solve the underlying issue, that you want to be his bride and he won't even consider you for that position, but you suppose, in the end, it's for the best. A self-proclaimed King of Hell doesn't really promise to be a faithful husband, anyway. You continue being his friend and train yourself out of that biting jealousy that rears up every time he grows too lovesick over Niculaie and Abraham.

Abraham is a great actor. He plays around with you and your sister as if you're all taking part in the most dire of situations, then he'll have both of you laughing until your sides split as he pivots suddenly to the ridiculous. He's wild and untamed and you can see why Niculaie and Damon love him as much as they do, even if he's not really your type.

The three of them take theatre classes together and perform in all the school plays. You and your sister attend every single one. Damon is captivating, of course, but whenever Niculaie and Abraham are playing off one another, they hold all of the crowd's attention.

(They're the perfect couple, really. So what if Abraham's dad holds some stupid grudge against Niculaie's dad? The two are just so perfect with each other that you aren't surprised when they start acting closer than simple friends.)

("If you thought you were doing a good job of hiding it, you really weren't." You told them when they finally admitted to you that they had decided to become official boyfriends. You stayed with Damon that night as he gushed and lamented in equal measures over the happiness of his friends.)

You weren't invited on their camping trip the summer before they entered the Boarding School. It was totally a spur of the moment thing, to be fair, but neither you nor Gaëlle were invited. They're only out in the mountains for three days before they're brought back much against their wills and you don't see Abraham again until school starts proper.

It's undeniable that Abraham has come back wrong. He no longer recognises you, Damon, or Niculaie as friends; he snaps at all of you, proclaims that he'll hunt you all down as a Huntsman rightly should. And, this time, it's not just an act he's putting on for fun. He really means it.

(There's something different about his eyes. You tend to notice the way light catches on certain parts due to staring at Damon all the time; his eyes are sharpened past believable reality, too. His teeth are too perfectly straight. His face is sculpted to a maximum charm that never seems one hundred percent genuine. And now it's Abraham and his eyes and how there's something not quite real about them.)

(You remember that brief time in your childhood when Damon wore glasses. He needed them to even see past his own face, but then he returned from one of those trips and suddenly his eyesight was all better. He hated those glasses anyway. Even Gaëlle noticed that one.)

Niculaie absolutely breaks. And Damon does his best to catch all the pieces, but there's no way to mend a heart so shattered.

"Abe's dad did something to him." Damon tells you one day as he and Niculaie are hanging out after classes.

Gaëlle and their new friend, a surly looking boy named Jonathan who keeps to himself, sit around the table as well, all of you pondering what went wrong with Abraham after the distraction of the boardgame didn't work. It sits woefully to the side now, in the middle of Damon's turn. You ask, "Do you know that for certain?"

"Who else could have brainwashed him like this?" Niculaie asks in return, voice quiet and venemous. It's not aimed at you, the guy is much too gentle to ever aim so much vitriol towards his friends. He's always hated Abraham's father, however. All of you do, for very good reasons.

"He's never been to Italy, has he?" Gaëlle asks, looking pointedly at Damon.

Damon shakes his head. "It was just me and Nicu who got to go. Abe logged in over here somewhere."

"Why would going to Italy change anything?" Niculaie asks, sinking down against the table in his distress. "It was just a silly little game we played. Abe even made up most of the rules for it."

Damon's expression twists in distaste. "Yeah. Just a game." He agrees.

(You've heard him complain about the Vicario boy. He never wins against the kid who's younger than him, younger than you, and so scared that he's usually crying every time they play. But Damon can't win against him and it drives him crazy.)

(You think it's a good thing. Even a King needs to be humbled sometimes. You'll even tell him that to his face when he gets too annoying about it.)

"Can't change his mind now, since he's brainwashed or whatever." Jonathan points out. He reaches past Damon and moves his piece on the board, taking an illegal turn for the hell of it, it seems. "If he snaps out of it and comes to his senses, then great. If he doesn't, though, nothing to do about it besides move on and keep living."

His positive nihilism doesn't settle Damon or Niculaie's nerves. You and your sister, however, accept this readily. "Well said." You praise him, leaning forward to move your own piece in an illegal turn.

"We'll support you, Nicu." Gaëlle says, taking her (illegal) turn after you. Her smile is always gentler with him; she regrets showing off all her teeth and making him cry when you were younger. It restrains her beauty, but that never seems to matter to anyone else.

Niculaie and Damon agree with this as well, and in the end you continue your game from where you left off. The rest of the year is filled with reports on just how drastic Abraham's changes turn out to be (you share a good laugh with Damon over the fact that he literally tried chasing down the car Niculaie was carried home in once; what even was he planning to do if he managed to catch it?) and getting better acquainted with this Jonathan fellow.

"What'cha reading this time?" He asks you one evening as the two of you settle in for a loud night of partying.

Damon's parties are always over the top and crowded, it comes with being the Kingpin of wherever he attends, but it's nice to have solidarity with one other person now. It's nice to see someone else just as aggravated by the popularity when it was never within your nature to begin with. You're a secretary, after all, meant to pull the strings from behind the scenes. "It's a romance this time." You tell Jonathan as you show him the title on the cover: 'The One from Caracossa'. You'd show him the pages, but it's in French since you're still working your way through this author's catalogue. "It's about a roommate from another world coming to live in an unsuspecting human's home and claiming it for their own."

Jonathan nods along appreciatively. "Sounds interesting. Surprised you already finished 'The Witch's Tower'."

He remembers the titles you tell him. It's what mostly cemented him within your good graces. (That, and he's always polite to your sister, even if he's disinterested in females in general.) "That was a shorter story." You say with a smile. "Next up on my list is 'The Ivies'."

"I'll leave you to it, then." Jonathan says with a little chuckle. He gives you the time to yourself as he pores over his own notebook, filled with all sorts of incomprehensible scribbles and chemical formula.

He's a scientist through and through, you've read enough over his shoulder to know this, but it still strikes you as an odd sticking point about him. He's hiding something more than his lack of interest in heteronormativity, you just can't place your finger on what.

He does, though, leave you to read until Damon strides his way over to get you involved in some silly party game, so you never look further into it. Jonathan is allowed his own secrets just as you're allowed yours.

It is ridiculous, of course, how adamant Jonathan is about his friendship with William Ernest (his roommate) being purely intellectual. Everyone else never bothers to question him on it either, however, so you hold your tongue and allow him his deniability while he can still claim it.

The year you enter the Boarding School, several new elements are introduced. One of them is that Damon gains himself a new crush in a fantastic manner. (You can't help but replay the scene in your mind from time to time; him going up to her so confidently and her punching him in the face for even daring to speak to her. If you weren't so convinced you'd be punched next, you'd love to shake hands with this legendary Paige Philips.) Another element is that this interest in a girl who has no interest in returning the sentiment brings her roommate, one Natasha Zima, crashing into your life. (And it is a crash. The way she wiggles right in-between you and your sister as if she's been your middle sibling this whole time, it's baffling. None of your unkind remarks or active disinterest dissuade her from her endeavours. She's here to stay and proud of it and in the end you can't help but admire that type of commitment.)

The final element is, of course, your introduction to the Wolf.

Petel Vitayev is an intriguing beast. You watch them bite and snarl as if they themself are flesh and blood the wolf they claim to be. You see the way they growl when raising their hackles and wonder, quite dementedly, what it might be like to ruffle them up purposely.

(It has nothing to do with jealousy. You rid yourself of most of that back when you made peace with Damon's inability to settle for a single love interest, after all. The way he hangs off this wolf, the way he drags them into your established group of friends like they absolutely have to belong by decree of the King, don't factor in at all to how much you wish to see this wolf bite and make it bleed.)

(Perhaps you've done away with the pretense of the whole thing by this point. You've been called beautiful to a nauseating degree and the only ones who see the true sharpness to your teeth are this gang Damon's drawn together, so you stopped playing polite and showed those fangs to those who refuse to respect them.)

Either way, you and Vitayev butt heads more often than you'd like to admit.

Worse still, Damon always, always, sticks up for the Wolf's defence.

"They're capable of fighting for themself, you know." You tell him one day as the two of you sit in his house. He's invited you over to study a few things for the upcoming History exam and you needed the refresher anyway. "They're a wolf. Untamed and beastly."

"You tend to go for the throat when you choose to battle." Damon says in reply, looking up from his papers and equally annoyed as you are about this. "Your cuts are always deepest and I'm sure he takes that as a challenge."

You wrinkle your nose in even stronger distaste. "I can fight my own battles, too." You stress.

"There shouldn't be any fighting in the first place." Damon sighs, as if this whole thing is more troublesome than it is personally offending. "I wanted to carve out a place of understanding and welcome for monsters like us, not create an even more hostile working environment."

He doesn't quite understand. He never will, you suppose. He's flawless and beauty and shined to an unnatural sheen and still, and still, and still, he insists he's a monster.

He's most like you in that sense; all roses on the outside, nothing but thorns on the inside.

"You're a snake." You tell him.

It's not ridicule. It's not really fondness, either. It's just a fact. He still frowns at you funny, unsure of exactly what you're communicating when you tell him this. "Is there something wrong with that?" He asks in the end.

You want to grab his face and kiss him. You want to punch him out just the same as Philips did. Perhaps then he'll understand what effect this endlessly oozing charm he has takes on others. "It's just a fact." You say in the end.

Petel doesn't stay with your group, too enamoured with Philips and her rebellion against the Kingpin. You see it as a battle of egos; her style of ruling is just more appealing to an unruly wolf like them. You've lived with Damon for so long now that you're not sure how you might deal with someone else trying to usurp his position.

A year passes and you continue your stalemate with this flaring emotion burning inside you. Damon enjoys his time at the top, Natasha keeps acting more familiar than she has any right to, and Abraham continues to be an asshole.

The arrival of the Vicario boy is what tips the scales. You're sure of it.

Suddenly, Damon has trouble keeping his cool and collected demeanour. His face slips often enough that it's surprising no one else comments on it; perhaps they're all too afraid by this point. (Or maybe you're the only one actually paying attention enough to see it.) The way he squints at the boy as if it's hard to see him, the slight show of his teeth still being a little crooked at the tops; maybe you're the one seeing things that aren't really there? Abraham's eyes, too, tend to act up in the vicinity of the Vicario boy, a reminder that there's something wrong with him every time you see him around the school. Vicario can't help but scream at every little thing that so much as makes too loud a noise or slips by too quickly, which is just…odd.

He's so different than the kid you'd built up in your head. Surely, you said to yourself, the one whom Damon could never defeat would have much more intimidating a presence. Surely, there's no way Damon lost again and again and again (enough to make him hate this poor kid to the point of actively encouraging Fiamma and Charon to fuck with him like they do) when he's the meekest little thing you've ever seen.

There's some sort of trick to it, you reason. There has to be.

But whenever you get the chance to interact with him, he flees as soon as he possibly can. Like he's nothing but the personification of fear.

(It doesn't help that, when you do manage to exist in his vicinity for even a minute, that beastliness flares up inside you. Vicario seems attached more so than the others to Petel and you're still dying to poke the wolf until they burst from that flesh prison of theirs. You poke and prod Vicario in that stead and nothing comes of it because he always flees.)

(There's clearly something wrong about him. You just can't figure out what it is until the game is activated.)

Right, the game. That's the other reason why you're convinced Vicario tipped the scales with his arrival.

Damon never paid the rumour of the towers any mind before this. "They just hold a bunch of boring janitorial stuff." He said to all of you consistently every time one of you brought it up. "Ain't nothing in there that'll shut the school down or whatever. Besides, they're always locked for a reason."

He dismissed it every time.

But now that Vicario's arrived, all of a sudden he wants to break into them and expose what's inside.

"Why are you fixated on this?" You ask him at lunch one day, after another one of his attempts to rally your whole gang into action. "What's in there can't be that damning."

"Especially not for such a high profile kid like Vicario." Jonathan agrees.

Damon shakes his head at the two of you, already upset about his whims going unanswered for a whole month. "It's not just about destroying Vicario." He assures you, lying through his (perfectly straight) teeth as he does so. "It's about having fun with it. You'll see one we get in there. It's gonna be more than just a little bit of petty revenge on my part."

(Maybe that's why you get stuck with the Thief instead of the Prince. It was just bad timing, just Damon's zealousness to get there first. Really, though, it was just karmic retribution for his own animosity towards Vicario himself.)

(You imagine sometimes what it might be like were your gang to handle the other one instead. What it might be like bouncing off his incompetence and wide-eyed wonder instead of dealing with her viciousness and lack of all other thoughts. She's as fixated on her goal for destruction as Damon and it's fitting for that reason, but you can't help but wonder about a softer fate.)

"How can it even be revenge? You said there's just a bunch of janitorial equipment in there." You say to Damon at the time.

His expression goes a bit weird. Like there's something he wants to say, but is blocked from doing so. "You'll get it when you see what's inside." He says.

You do not, in fact, get it once you see the scanners and the computer. But that all falls by the wayside once Jonathan manages to pull out one Vektoria Ketxiah and upends all of your perceptions about what this was supposed to be.

Vektoria is a whole different beast from anything you're used to. She's the thing you were most afraid of; she struts in like she owns the place and immediately starts dishing out orders, as if you're all indebted to her somehow. As if she's the new ruler of the school and all of you just so happen to be her willing peons.

"You agreed to assist me in my endeavours the moment you stopped me from completing my goals." She tells all of you later at lunch, after she's been formally introduced as a new transfer and has declared all of you as her gang members. (No one is pleased about it.) "You stopped me from deleting that Prince and settling our score, therefore you have to take retribution by helping me get back to his Kingdom to delete that instead."

"Can't you delete it from the level select hub if you really wanted?" Natasha asks, hesitant to do so.

It's a valid point. One you've thought of before, too. Vektoria's black eyes glint with an unobstructed malice as she says, "The chase is the fun part. Besides, what sort of Thief would I be if I didn't steal victory right out from under him when he least expects it?"

Damon sighs and says, "Video game logic."

"I don't think you should really be deleting a whole level of the game in the first place, let alone one of the main characters." Niculaie points out meekly.

Vektoria scoffs at him. "Him, a main character? He's more a footnote than anything so grand."

"He's a Prince, though." Jonathan points out.

"Won't deleting important data make the system go all screwy?" Natasha tries next.

Vektoria goes right back to that malice in her grin. "I'm counting on it." She tells all of you.

So there's one instance of intended murder you can jot down on your list. You're surprised you even need one, but you suppose that's how your life has been trending anyway with each escalation. You go back to your book and mumble an aggravated, "Don't expect us to be of much help, then."

Her whole attitude really doesn't gel that great with the cohesion your group has built up. Damon is the uncontested leader. Even Ian and Nick understand this. Yet she barges right in and expects all of you to follow her every command with zero explanation or building of any good faith.

(For what, for what, for what? You keep screaming it in your head, you can't understand what drives her to be this at odds. Is it contrariness for the sake of it? Misplaced rebellion? For what does she parade around and act like the most important player in the world for? For what is she expecting to accomplish by destroying the most interesting thing to happen to you so far at this Boarding School? For what??)

Needless to say, your ventures into the actual game are ruled by just as much chaos as expected.

"Our path lies ahead." Vektoria announces while you, Natasha, Niculaie, and Damon are all too busy taking in the sights of the white foliage, the depth of field, the inmersiveness of this game, to properly listen. Vektoria's outfit is more that of a fencer than a thief, though that might be what her hood (or is it a scarf?) is for. "Try to keep up, now. We've got a long road ahead of us."

She takes off into the forest, faster than any of you can hope to follow.

That day, you all end up getting kicked by two mishandled Tigers. Jonathan can't even help all that much, the system being as incomprehensible as it is.

As she storms out of her centre scanner ("Only I'm allowed to use this one." She told you as you entered for the evening. "It was built for me."), she screeches, "Why didn't any of you follow my lead?"

She tries her best to stay on her feet, but the momentum is too much. She skids to stop and instantly collapses to the floor in a heap. One hissing, miserable heap of a computer program. (She's just a program, you have to remind yourself; being as infuriating as she is seems to be enough of a trick to make you think she's just another person.) Jonathan sits back from the computer and says to her, "You didn't exactly make for an easy to follow target."

"We got swarmed by enemies!" Natasha points out next.

"How come you didn't head back and help us out?" Damon asks, tutting. "That's bad form for a leader."

"I'm the one you need to worry about keeping safe." She huffs in reply, managing to at least sit up so as not to be in a heap anymore. "I'm your guide through this experience. If I jump into a fight and get kicked out, then there'll be no progressing until the next day."

It's the excuse she'll parade around every single time and you hate it a little more with each instance. She refuses to help you during battles, leaving things mostly to you and Damon (it takes Natasha a few tries to get used to her wings and Niculaie has no arms at all for some reason) and the both of you are too close range to avoid getting away with some of the crazy manoeuvres you do.

The first time Niculaie goes Berserk, you end up getting taken out first.

"This is fucked up." You declare as you sit with Jonathan, Natasha, and Damon, waiting for AIR to do something about your friend who is still very much trapped inside this game.

(Vektoria couldn't wait. Of course she couldn't. That girl can hardly sit still for her classes, let alone wait for someone she doesn't see as more than an asset to be used for her own gain.)

(Even now, the thought of her ruling style makes you want to drag your claws down something fleshy and make it bleed.)

"They've only ever considered him a vampire." Damon says, equally as upset as you are.

Natasha asks, "Why is he a vampire, anyway? He hates being cast as one."

Jonathan grimaces, understanding the lack of control any of you have in your inheritances. Damon is the King of Hell, you're the Secretary to the King, Niculaie is a Vampire, and Jonathan is the duplicitous lawyer. You say to Natasha, "Why are you a bat girl?"

She shrugs. "I dunno. I've always thought bats were cool, I guess?"

"Our builds were predetermined." Damon points out again, doing his best to fight this misconception Natasha's built up.

She huffs at him, hands to her hips. "Paige says that Petel's a wolf and Hammy's a hunter, though. Those are exactly what they wanted to be."

Intrigued, you ask, "What about Vicario?"

"He's a fire." Damon answers.

Jonathan cranks up his sarcasm as he says, "And Frank's a necromancer or a doctor or something like that. Perfect sense."

It doesn't really answer much of anything, but you suppose it doesn't really have to. It's a weird game with weird rules in a weird place. (It's just something you have to deal with now in order to get rid of Vektoria.) Damon won't come right out and say anything about it, but you've realised that there's a block on his ability to do so and as such you refrain from prying too hard.

(All the answers he could give aren't desirable anyway. Part of you knows this so inherently that it's so much easier to pretend like this game has no deeper meanings that you kinda even forget about it in the first place.)

It takes another hour for this game to finally spit Niculaie out. You and Damon carry him home and Damon even walks him right up to the door. You stand outside the gates and wonder just what happened to make him hate his legacy so much. Besides the obvious, that is.

Abraham has a great reason to hate everything to do with his father. Well, he did before this sudden change he went through, at least. Niculaie, however, is descended from vampires and that's cool as shit. You just can't understand his reluctance towards it.

When you meet up with the other half of this gaming squad, you don't really agree with Damon's assessment. Vicario isn't fire so much as he's surrounded by fire. It isn't until the final stretch of the White Forest do you actually understand just how literal it is, when you're bouncing off his raised wall and backing away as fast as possible.

"That took a real chunk outta your health." Jonathan reports from above as you're swearing behind your teeth. Natasha is the next one to encounter these flames as they crash down on top of her like a wave from the ocean. "Whatever that is, be careful with it."

You don't get a chance to reply with something sarcastic, as a little chat between you, Natasha, Frank, and Petel leads you to racing the wolf to the end of the Forest.

It's probably the most fun you've had so far in this miserable experience. It reminds you of the games you used to play with Abraham and your sister. Back when you, Damon, Niculaie, and them were all you cared about in this world. The end of the level isn't anything spectacular, but it is a definitive end and you stand there staring out into its abyss with Petel and Frank until Vektoria comes crashing through.

Watching Vicario wall her off and ultimately defeat her is so, so satisfying. Especially after she attacked you and Natasha for no good reason.

Less satisfying is the news that Vicario destroyed Damon again, but you understand why now. Vicario is, indeed, fire in person form.

"We had a good run of it, don't you think?" Natasha asks as she, Niculaie, and you make the trek back to your last checkpoint because Jonathan can't be bothered to pull you out from where you are.

"We'll just have to try again later." Niculaie agrees.

You nod along, saying, "They're done, so only AIR can stop us now."

"And Vektoria." Jonathan says in aggravation.

Natasha laughs while you and Niculaie groan. Even Niculaie can't find it in himself to tolerate her. That's the level at which you all find yourselves with this computer program. Damon is similarly unenthused over all this, though for completely separate reasons.

Niculaie, Damon, and you all have to walk home in the dark of the evening, snow falling gently all around you. It's never really struck you before how the chill can bite to the bone, but having clashed with a wall of fire makes that disparity in temperature stand out more than ever.

"I get it now." You say to the air, to the cloudy and dark skies above, to the space around Damon instead of at him directly. It's a delicate topic. You might as well respect that for once. "How Vicario is strong enough to best all of us."

Niculaie nods along, growing despondent. "He can't lose." Niculaie says. "He was always very clear about that."

"He's a damn menace is what he is." Damon grumbles, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "All that power, and for what? A miserable little coward like him?"

"Fear is a great motivator." You counter. "It's what's kept humans alive for centuries."

Niculaie pauses to give it some thought, though Damon waves dismissively. "What's he trying to prove, anyway? That he's able to survive? Fat lot of good it's doing him."

"Why do any of us survive?" Niculaie asks. The sincerity in his tone gets Damon to stop dead in his tracks. When he turns to look back at Niculaie, his red eyes are blown wide with actual fear. Niculaie's are full of something menacing. A knowledge of something too painful to speak aloud in no uncertain terms. "We've all been through the process. Vicario may be the only one so personally acquainted with it, but we'd all be better off forfeiting our lives than continuing as we are."

Damon surges forward and grabs onto Niculaie's arm. "I'm not losing you." He says. He's desperate. It makes his form quiver, the uncertainty disrupting that perfection almost to the point of shattering.

Niculaie says in an affirmation of sorts, "You won't. Not yet."

You can't help but be fascinated as you watch. (You can't help but be disgusted.) "If persisting is the only thing left, no wonder you can't understand." You say, breaking their moment with one another and forcing them to look at you. "You reside upon a throne of privilege. He's been cast from the good graces of his peers. You may come from similar places, but you are far from the same."

You wonder if they can see the depths of your displeasure as they stare at you. You wonder if you've managed to convey even a fraction of your devotion through that alone. Damon releases Niculaie and backs away a step with a soft, "Sorry. Just. I don't want you to shatter again."

Niculaie says, "I'll be stronger." He smiles and looks your way, surprisingly. "We both have wonderful friends to put things in perspective when we stumble."

"He just called me a privileged twat, though."

Damon runs a hand through his hair as he sighs. The trick of the darkness makes you see sharper nails there than he actually has. You think about his less perfect appearance in the game (crooked teeth, crooked horns, red fur and hooved feet, that beauty mark taking up half his face and nearly crossing out both his eyes) and close the distance between the three of you in order to hook your fingers into his coat pockets. "A King needs humbling at his most prideful." You remind him.

Niculaie laughs and Damon rolls his eyes, but the two next envelop you into a warm hug. You're not really one for physical contact, preferring to share that only with your sister, but you think this is nice. You could get used to this.

They're both friends of yours. You would fight to protect their bared claws and unruly fangs.

It's what a great secretary might do for their King of Hell.

#Game Kids #Game Kids need their own tag #Aglaé Desrosier #Damon Asheford #Niculaie Vladimirescu #Jonathan Wallace #Gaëlle Desrosier #Vektoria Ketxiah #Natasha Zima #Abraham van Helsing IV #my writing #Spoilers #Fire and Wolf #Fire and Wolf: Game Kids Book 1

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pan-fangirl-345 · 3 years

Text

Promise Me You Won't Fall In Love

Summary: You and Tsukishima have been friends since you were kids, and you made a promise not to fall in love with each other. But of course, everything's fine and great until someone (both of you) fucked up and caught feelings.

TW: swearing, mutual pining, unrequited love (it is requited later), minor harassment (not a lot), and there is some derogatory talk from an extra that doesn't even have a name (Kei puts him in his place, I promise).

A/N: So this wasn't requested, but I've been thinking about this one a lot recently and I wanted to do something with it, hence this.

Note: Anything in italics is a memory! Well, not all of it, but the longer sections. Most of the time the one or two word-er things are simply emphasized, that kind of thing.

"Tsukishima, your girlfriend's here to see you!" Sugawara told the middle blocker, and he turned to see you leaning against the wall near Yachi and Kiyoko, laughing at something they were saying to you.

"She's not my girlfriend," Kei muttered, walking over.

"Kei! I knew you'd be here," you said, digging through your bag. "One of the girls in my class wanted me to give this to you."

You handed him a bright pink envelope with black sparkly writing on the front, his name scrawled in almost perfect handwriting.

"Another love letter?" he asked, taking it.

"Probably, I've stopped asking. It makes them think that we're together," you told him, crossing your arms.

Kei sighed, opening the letter with little fanfare.

He scanned through it quickly, rolling his eyes.

One thing he had noticed was that the letters he had been getting were really sucky poetry and fancy words. They knew nothing about him worthwhile and he was pretty sure they just wanted to check off the 'I have a boyfriend' box on their high school checklists.

Kei made a noise of disgust and walked over to the nearest trash can, dumping the letter in.

"I'm assuming that's another no?" you asked, smirking at him, already knowing the answer.

He nodded, ignoring the smirk on your face.

You, Tadashi, and Kei had all been friends since middle school. Kei had known you longer, since you lived in the same neighborhood, but you had kind of adopted Tadashi when you had heard about him being bullied, hence why Kei and you were actual friends now. Tadashi was the link between the two of you that had stuck. Being forced to make conversation as some of the only kids in the neighborhood had simply made you acquaintances.

"If you knew I was going to say no then why would you give me the letter?" Kei asked.

"Because I'm hoping you'll broaden your horizons," you offered, waving your hand dismissively. "Besides, it sends the wrong message if I just throw them away without giving them to you. Not to mention, a lot of the girls don't like me to begin with because I'm one of the few people you can tolerate for more than a few minutes at the time. You've never had a girlfriend, Kei, even if they aren't girlfriend material, couldn't you at least make a few more friends?"

"I can barely deal with you and Tadashi, I don't need anymore friends," Kei told you, and you laughed.

"Keep telling yourself that Kei. I'll see you guys later, alright?"

Tadashi and Kei nodded, watching you leave before they rejoined practice.

"Are you sure she isn't your girlfriend, Tsukishima?" Sugawara asked, watching the blocker with mild interest.

Despite being second years now, their former upperclassmen were showing up more as tournament season drew closer. Though Kei also suspected that they were being nostalgic and that they missed their underclassmen's chaos.

"I'm sure," he assured the former setter. "Why?"

"Nothing, just a hunch," he murmured.

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

"Guys, do you ever wonder how many people see you on the side of the street and think, 'Wow, they are the most beautiful person I have ever seen'?" you asked, as you hung upside down on the monkey bars.

"I think the blood is going to your head, (Y/F/N)," Tadashi teased.

"No, I'm serious," you said, turning to look at him. "I was thinking, earlier, about how Kei keeps getting all these love letters, and it made me wonder how many people see me as attractive, but never say anything. I don't think it's very many," you admitted, "but I wonder if they are out there."

Tadashi sighed, putting his hands on his forehead in an exasperated manner.

"(Y/F/N)," he said, sounding almost breathless, "just because Kei is getting letters doesn't mean that people don't find you attractive."

"I'm not saying people don't find me attractive," you said, swinging yourself up onto the bars again. "I know someone in the world must have standards that low, but just because they find me attractive doesn't mean they would date me."

"Why are we talking about this?" Kei asked, annoyance riddling his tone.

"Technically Tadashi and I were talking about it," you told him. "You were simply listening to the conversation."

"That doesn't tell me why this is the topic of conversation," he countered.

"I'm just saying! Kei keeps getting all these letters, and it makes me wonder if these girls actually think that they're in love with him. Attraction is really just a release of chemicals in the brain from when we were simply a species trying to survive. But that's not love," you said.

"So what's love to you?" Tadashi asked, curious.

"I think real, true love is when you see something that reminds you of them and you smile, even without realizing it. I think it's when it hurts to see them hurt, but you stay by them instead of seeking revenge, knowing they need you in the moment. I think it's the little inside jokes that mean nothing to people around you, but it's everything to you. I think it's knowing that there are plenty of people that are better than you out there, but wanting to stick around to be better for that person, to prove that you're worth it.

"I think it's seeing all the broken pieces, and loving them all anyway. It's remembering the little things. It's being able to sit in complete silence and know what the other is saying just because of the way their eyes crinkle. It's knowing that they have the power to break off new pieces, and trusting that they won't. It's when . . . instead of breaking pieces of yourself so that they can handle you, you stay whole. If they choke, you know it's not love, not really.

"It's knowing that you can stand on your own two feet, but leaning on them anyway. It's knowing that you are your own person, but wanting to share it with someone anyway. It's feeling free and wild, but content to stay still, because you trust them. For me, I feel like love is knowing that someone would read with me on a window seat, watching it rain, but they would also drive just a little too fast down older roads with the windows down so we can pretend, just for a moment, that we're in a shitty music video."

You smiled as you turned yourself upside down on the monkey bars again.

"I think it's kind of like what we have, but more romantic."

"You've been reading too much fanfiction," Kei muttered.

"Maybe," you admitted. "But maybe that's because I want to be able to spew romantic bullshit like that when I finally find a guy that likes me for me. I realize that, realistically, I'll probably never feel like that. Or at least, I won't feel it enough to put it into words like that. Fantasy never lives up to reality after all. But it's a nice thought."

"So, you don't think you'll ever find something like that?" Tadashi asked.

"I think that I'll either end up married to a man that was good enough, or on my own with no social life except you and Kei. I'll rely on work to keep me entertained."

Kei snorted.

"What's so funny you overly salted French fry?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If I ever think you're marrying a man that's just 'good enough', I'll say 'I object!' at the wedding," he told you.

"Oh yeah?" you asked, smiling. "And why's that?"

"Because you deserve more than that," he said, looking you in the eye. "(Y/F/N), you are not the kind of girl that should end up with 'good enough'. You're too . . . free for that. Although, maybe independent is a better word. You would wither with just 'good enough', and that's not something I'm willing to let happen."

"Aw, so you do care about me," you cooed, swinging yourself upright onto the bars. "And don't worry Kei, we both know that Tadashi and I will never let you settle with 'good enough' either."

"What about me?" Tadashi squawked, and you laughed.

"Come 'Dashi," you chided, "we all know that you won't end up with 'good enough' even if you try."

His cheeks went pink and you laughed again.

Kei, as much as he pretended otherwise, really loved seeing you and Tadashi laugh like this. It reminded him that there were people who didn't see just the bastard act that he threw up to protect himself.

He loved the way your dimple appeared when you gave Tadashi that real smile, not the smirk or the grin you gave people. He loved seeing Tadashi carefree and not hiding behind his hand when he laughed or smiled.

He loved being able to sit and watch the two of you interact, but know that he could pop into the conversation whenever.

"Kei, that look on your face is kind of creepy," you teased, sliding to the ground to ruffle his hair, a small way of telling him you didn't mean it. "What's it for?"

"Nothing," he muttered, hoping to the heavens that his ears weren't turning pink, though they probably were.

"Come on Tsukki," Tadashi said, giving him a look, "we've all been friends for years. We know you better than that."

"I'm just glad is all," he murmured.

"Glad for what?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, leaning over them to look at his face.

"You. Tadashi. You know, my friends," he confessed.

Damn it! His ears were definitely pink.

But he didn't shove you off.

Most people assumed that Kei was a jerk all the time, and while that might have been true for anyone else, you and Tadashi were the exceptions to his rule.

You and Tadashi had been friends with him for almost your whole lives, and both of you had been there during the brother debacle.

You and Kei had lived in the same neighborhood for years, and had been a part of more than a few conversations that had been forced by social convention, and your mother had been good friends with his in high school, though they had lost touch after that.

You had noticed Tadashi being bullied in class and had stepped in, defending him and deciding that he was more worth your time than the other kids.

Which led you to Kei, when you found out that he had helped Tadashi on the playground, even if that had never been his original intention.

The three of you had become a trio of sorts in your later years, though your reputations weren't the most . . . innocent.

Kei had always had a sharp tongue and a quicker wit, and his irritation seemed to have no limits.

You were on level with him, though you were much harder to set off than he was.

Tadashi never really provoked, but he watched as the two of you eviscerated anyone that insulted him.

Kei was ruthless with people who made comments on you and/or Tadashi, never giving them a chance to get another word in, though they had often tried, simply making themselves seem more like idiots.

On the other hand, you tended to let people hang themselves with their own tongues, before using that quick wit and sharp tongue to gut them like the pigs that they were.

Tadashi had little confidence on his own, and he tended to be more affected by words than you or Kei, so most of the time he let you and Kei handle people, but every once in a while, he would be set off.

Nothing was scarier than Tadashi getting pissed. He was rarely ever confrontational, but when something set him off, it was terrifying. He got really quiet, and he never raised his voice. There was a quiet kind of fury that radiated from him when he got like that, and if you and Kei used your words to eviscerate, Tadashi used his to give someone hypothermia. He would make them get colder and colder before their brains tricked them into thinking they were too hot, and then ended them.

All three of you were terrifying in your own ways, but that didn't mean you were like that all the time.

Kei wasn't an asshole all the time, and he enjoyed receiving hugs and other types of physical affection, he was just shit at reciprocating it and letting others see that more 'vulnerable side of him', as he put it. He was better at fixing problems logically. He helped you and Tadashi study, or sometimes bought gifts to make you both feel better, little things that still made your days.

Tadashi was someone who might not be confrontational, but he was very good about getting you and Kei out of your heads when something did hit a chink in your respective armors. He knew that both you and Kei were more affected by what people said than most people were led to believe. He was also a very good listener.

You were the giver of physical affection when the boys needed it. Kei tended to need it more than Tadashi, since Tadashi had his moms who were more than willing to give hugs. Kei didn't like his mother thinking anything was wrong, and he didn't completely trust his brother anymore, so physical contact was kept to a minimum.

Tadashi was okay with giving Kei affection, but most of the time, when it came to Kei, you were the one he went to.

You had asked him once, why he always came to you.

"I sometimes think Tadashi puts me up on a pedestal," he had admitted. "He knows me, and he's my friend, but sometimes it feels like I can't disappoint him. I don't feel that way with you. Besides, your short enough that hugging you feels better. Plus, Tadashi is all bones."

"We're glad for you too Kei," you told him, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

Tadashi nodded, taking a seat beside Kei.

Kei's heart clenched, like it often did when he was reminded that he really did have great friends, and his ears got hotter.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," he muttered, trying to wave you and Tadashi away.

"Come on Kei," you whined softly, gently bumping your head with his, "we all know that you have a heart! Don't be that way, it's just us."

Kei made a small noise, and you laughed, releasing him so that you could sit on his other side, peering up into his face with your adorable fucking doe eyes.

"You know you don't have to pretend with us," you murmured, leaning on his shoulder, taking his hand.

"Yeah, we've all been friends for long enough Tsukki," Tadashi agreed, leaning his head on Kei's other shoulder.

"I hate you both," he muttered, trying to hide his face in his hands.

"Nuh uh," you said, pulling away to pull his hands from his face, sounding like a child. "No hiding from us."

You took his hand again, and for a while, all three of you just sat there, enjoying each other's company.

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

"Tsukishima! You're girlfriend is here again," Suga said, gesturing to where you were walking through the doors of the gym, laughing with Yachi.

"Again, she's not my girlfriend," Kei muttered.

He remembered, suddenly, about the promise you had both made when you were middle school and boys were starting to notice girls and vice versa.

"Kei and (Y/F/N) would make such a cute couple when they're older," your mother had told his, smiling as you both chatted at a neighborhood barbeque, being two of the only children there that could hold an intelligent conversation.

At that point, you and Kei were more than acquaintances, but you weren't exactly friends yet either.

Neither mother had realized that you and Kei had overheard, and when Kei had glanced at you, your nose was wrinkled like it did when you were grossed out by something, your expression mirroring his.

"Promise me something Kei," you had said, turning your attention back to him. "Promise me that you won't ever fall in love with me."

"Why not? I mean, I won't, but I want a reason," he had said, arms crossed as he looked at you.

"Because we're friends," you had said, like it had been the simplest thing in the world. "And because if we ended up falling in love and dating that means Tadashi would feel left out all the time and I won't let that happen. So promise me."

"I promise not to fall in love with you if you promise not to fall in love with me," he had offered.

"Deal," you had told him, offering him your hand to shake on it.

"Ah, Kei, there you are!" you said, smiling at him. "There's another letter. Based on the amount of hearts on it, another confession."

"Keep it," he muttered, pushing your hand away when you went to hand him the letter.

"Kei, I don't want to carry around another one of your love letters," you said, wrinkling your nose. "These aren't for me, and they make me sick, so please, for the sake of our friendship, take the damn thing off my hands so I can wash them."

He sighed, a pained sound that had you laughing, and took the letter, slipping it into his bag, wondering if the girls at school would ever take a hint that he wasn't interested.

"Why is Tsukishima so popular with the girls?" Hinata wondered out loud. "His personality is so crappy."

"And I don't think I've ever heard him say a nice thing to anyone," Kageyama added.

"That's because you guys are irritating to Kei," you interrupted, turning to them, arms crossed and hip cocked out to the side. "Most of the time, he's helpful and respectful. You two just aren't the kind of people he would voluntarily hang out with."

"Rude," Hinata cried, then pouted, "but true."

"The only people Kei really rips into are people he doesn't like, doesn't respect, people who disrespect Tadashi or me, or people who betray his trust. You two are options one and two."

"He just seems like an unfeeling asshole, even after three years of knowing him."

"I think it's the opposite actually," you told them.

Kei could feel your eyes on the back of his head, either unaware that he could hear you or uncaring that he was listening.

"I think he feels all of it, at one hundred and twenty percent. He just acts like that to avoid getting hurt in most cases. In your case though, he really does just not like you. Or, more accurately, he doesn't like that you two are so clearly passionate about something when he gets scared of something hurting him if he cares too much. Like Tadashi told you once, Hinata, if Kei didn't at least like volleyball, he wouldn't be here. Just think about it," you told them.

"(Y/F/N)!" Tadashi called. "We're still studying at your place right?"

"Yeah, just like always," you assured him. "Kei, you still have the spare key, just let yourselves in."

He nodded, spinning the ball in his hands as he watched you walk away.

"Tsukishima, are you one hundred percent sure that she isn't your girlfriend?" Suga asked, eyebrows raised at him.

"Three hundred percent sure," Tsukishima grunted as he served the ball.

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

"Why do you never accept any of the confessions, Kei?" you asked, looking at him from over the top of your textbook.

Your head was hanging off the side of your bed and your socked feet were crossed at the ankles, resting on your wall.

Kei's neck hurt just looking at you, but he didn't say anything to you about moving.

"Because they aren't my type," Kei muttered, checking his notes before writing down an answer on his paper.

"What is your type?" you inquired, rolling onto your stomach, setting you book to the side. "Because I don't think I've ever seen you take an interest in a girl." You frowned, then added, "Romantic interest I mean."

Kei wondered what other interest you had thought he might get out of that, but he decided not to question it. Despite knowing you for years, and being as close to you as he was, you still managed to be somewhat of a mystery to him.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Yes, because I want to be able to set you up when you decide you're ready for a relationship!" you said. "Tadashi and I would make great wingmen. Well, wingman and wingwoman, but you know what I mean."

Kei actually turned to look at you at that one.

"You're serious," he muttered, noting the look on your face.

"Yes! Unless you don't think you're going to want a romantic relationship, which is completely okay too. I just want you to be happy is all."

"You know what makes me happy?" Kei asked, pausing to let you answer, but instead you stayed quiet, watching him with those damn doe eyes. "Getting my homework done and not having to deal with confessions from girls that don't know the first thing about me."

Kei heard your small chuckle, and as he went back to his homework, he found himself smiling.

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

Kei had always known that, objectively, you were very pretty (he had heard enough from his classmates over the years to have it verified), but sometimes you did something, and he would realize all over again.

Today you had laughed a little harder as he ripped into someone, and you had given him one of those dimpled smiles that he adored so much, and he had stood there blinking for a moment before he cooled his expression again.

Kei didn't really understand why he got so mad when someone flirted with you in the hallways, or when you came to cheer the team on during games.

He had always assumed that it was merely because you were such good friends, but then he had realized that no one else got that mad, they didn't feel the same painful burning in the pit of their stomachs at seeing you with another guy.

Asking Suga had done absolutely nothing, the setter had merely suggested that Kei was jealous, which was absolute bullshit, and he wasn't desperate enough to contact Bokuto or Kuroo yet, though he might be at the point of asking Akaashi.

He would know if he liked you the way that the older setter was implying. He would know if he was in love with you.

Right?

Kei could worry about that later, right now he was more interested in getting that guy's hand off your shoulder and away from your neck.

"(Y/F/N)," Kei called, striding over, back straight. "The game's about to start, we've got to go."

"Kei!" you chirped, smiling at him, moving to his side immediately, giving the guy that had been bugging you a sugar sweet (and utterly fake) smile over your shoulder. "See you around never, hopefully!"

Kei pressed his lips together to hide his smile, letting you wrap your hand around his.

"Was that guy bothering you?"

"A little, but you got there just in time," you told him, your hand tightening it's grip for a moment before you let him go. "Thanks for always having the most amazing timing Kei!"

"Yeah, whatever," he told you, bumping your shoulder with his.

"Seriously, what is it with the girls that hang around with us and wandering off?" Daichi asked when you walked into the gym with Kei.

"Sorry guys! I just wanted to buy a key chain," you said, holding it up, grinning. "It's not my fault that athletes can't take no for an answer! Sometimes I think your on-court determination bleeds over into everyday life."

There were some nods, and Kei watched as the guy that had been bothering you stepped onto the other side of the court.

He followed the guy's eyes to you, where you were laughing at something Kageyama said.

Did- Did that moron just lick his lips at you?

Kei felt that burning sensation in his stomach again.

Kei didn't realize that he had been glaring until he heard your voice right next to him.

"Anyway, good luck guys!" you told them, affectionately ruffling Tadashi's hair, hip-checking Kei on your way into the stands, flashing him that damned dimpled grin over your shoulder.

"Hey, Blondie!" the guy called. "You, Glasses! I'm talkin' to you!"

Kei turned to see the guy from earlier smirking at him.

"Dude, your girl is so hot!" he said.

Kei felt the entirety of Karasuno tense behind him as they realized what was going on.

"Yeah, she is," Kei agreed.

"Think you'd be willin' to share her with me? I promise I'd take good care of her."

"Oh shit," someone muttered, and Kei saw red for a moment before he got himself under control.

"Is your ass jealous about the amount of shit that just came out of your mouth?" Kei asked, putting his hand on his hip.

Using insults like that was never really his thing, but he was really pissed right now.

"Hey, Tsukki," Tadashi said quietly, "you might not want to-"

"What did you just say to me?" the guy asked.

"Hey, Kei!" you called from the stands, waving at him to catch his attention. "Leave the smack talk for when you actually win! Block his spike down his throat for me, alright?"

He nodded, giving you a grin that had you giving him one right back.

"God forbid if she was a guy and they were on the same team," Suga muttered, and the others nodded.

"Alright, time for the game to start," Daichi said.

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

Kei did as you asked: he blocked every single spike that the guy tried to send over the net, and Kei could already tell that the guy was pissed at the end of the first set.

He was spiking more and more aggressively, which was screwing up aim to the point where Kei didn't even really need to block.

"Go Karasuno!" you cheered, smiling at the team from the stands.

Kei, every time he felt his anger getting out of control, looked to you in the stands to calm down.

Finally, the scumbag was so out of control that he was switched out with another wing spiker.

From there, the game was easy.

By the end of it, Kei hadn't even needed to look for you in the stands. Not only had he memorized where you were, but no one else on that team pissed him off as much as that scumbag did.

As soon as the ball landed on the other side of the court, and it was called, you were running down from the stands, running for him.

"Kei! You were so great!" you cheered, wrapping your arms around his neck, jumping at him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist to keep the both of you from falling over, and he buried his face in your neck as he set you down.

"Oh my gosh, Kei that was so amazing! I think that's the best you've played all season! Seriously! Some of those blocked looked like they would've ripped my arms off, that was so cool!" you gushed, holding onto his forearms.

Kei nodded, giving Tadashi a look over your shoulder for a moment, letting him know that it was okay for him to go on ahead.

"Thanks for blocking the slime ball for me Kei!" you said, smiling up at him. "And what did he say to you that got you so pissed off? I haven't seen you that mad in forever!"

"It was nothing," he told you, "it was stupid."

"Are you sure?" you inquired, looking up at him.

"Yeah, I'm sure the team will tell you about it later."

"Alright, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," you told him, "'cause you looked really pissed. I haven't seen you that pissed off since that one guy tried to make Tadashi cry."

"I don't like it when people make you uncomfortable like that," Kei said. "It really pisses me off."

"Is that why you kept looking at me during the game?" you asked, and Kei wondered if any other girl would've been so honest with him about something like this, or if it as just the fact that you had both spent so much time together growing up. "I noticed that you always looked at me whenever you had the chance."

Kei nodded, gesturing with his head towards the doors, so that he could catch up with the team and talk with you at the same time.

"Yeah, that was one of the reasons. It kept me focused on the scumbag's spikes, and it calmed me down enough so that I didn't punch him whenever we were across the net from each other."

"I kinda wish that you had, but I also know that it would've gotten you ejected from the game, which is not something I want to happen. Anyway, thanks Kei," you told him, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, always," he said, putting his hand on your head.

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

It was when you were over at his house Sunday morning when he realized that he might need to call Kuroo and Bokuto.

You, Kei, and Tadashi had had a sleepover, but Tadashi had left early to spend some time with his moms, so Kei had woken up to you with a hand on his chest and his arm numb from where it was pillowing your head.

The three of you had been sitting on Kei's bed watching a movie, but Tadashi had tipped over sometime near the halfway marker, and Kei had fallen asleep not long after that, so he could only assume that you had fallen asleep sometime after Tadashi had left this morning.

Kei turned on his side slowly, not wanting to wake you up, wrapping an arm around your waist softly.

He toyed with your hair, twisting it in his fingers gently, brushing it behind your ear, threading his fingers through it.

He wasn't ready to get up for the day yet, so he laid there with you, wondering how it would be ten years in the future.

Would your hair be longer? Would you cut it shorter? Would you dye it? Would you have kids by then?

That last one had made him pause.

He had always known that short of you dying or some huge falling out, Kei was in no way going to be able to get rid of you or Tadashi, but he had never even considered dating you, let alone anything beyond that.

So why was he wondering what your kids would look like? Why was he wondering how many you would want, if any? Why was he questioning how many stray animals you might bring home after work?

He sounded like every lovesick fool that got his heart broken in those weird movies that Tadashi liked to watch.

Kei glanced down at your face, and he suddenly found himself unable to think of a reality where he didn't wake up like this for the rest of his life.

When had he stopped seeing you as his little sister, or the annoying female friend that all of his classmates admired? When had he started seeing you as someone he could fall in love with, if he hadn't already?

But even with this new revelation, he couldn't bring himself to pull away from you.

Kei loved it when you both bickered like you hated each other, and he loved when you were able to throw back any insulting thing he said to you. He loved being able to have real conversations with you, but he also liked just sitting quietly with you.

This though, this was by far his favorite thing, seeing all the stress gone from your body, seeing your face without any kind of mask on, he adore seeing the calm serenity that came with sleep.

"Mm, Kei?" you asked sleepily, glancing at him. "What time is it?"

"Still early," he murmured, tucking you into his chest again. "Go back to sleep."

"M'kay," you said, nuzzling in close.

Kei waited for a minute before he grabbed his phone and his glasses from the side table, texting Kuroo.

Normally, he would've talked to Tadashi, but Kei didn't want to drag him into anything until he knew for sure, just in case he was wrong.

Kei: I have a question for you

Kuroo: What's up Tsukki-poo?

Kei: First, don't call me that

Kei: Secondly, and this is completely hypothetical, but how do you know when you love someone?

Kuroo: Aww, is my little kouhai in love with someone? How cute!

Kei made a face, taking a deep breath and glancing at you quickly before he turned his attention back to his phone.

Kei: Just answer the question

Kuroo: We're talking hypothetically?

Kei: Yeah

Kuroo: Can't you use the internet for this stuff? Why ask me? Why not ask Freckles? Or the pretty setter on your team?

Kei: The internet would tell me I have cancer, not that I might be in love with someone

Kei: Secondly, as for the setter comment, I'm assuming you mean Suga

Kei: Thirdly, he would go tell Tadashi, and then the possible love interest, and I don't want to deal with any of those things

Kei: So, please, for the sake of my sanity, just answer the question

Kuroo: Alright, alright. Jeesh. Hypothetically, if you were in love with someone you might start noticing their presence more

Kuroo: It would feel almost like you have a compass where the needle points to them, and you can't turn it off. You notice the little things more than normal, and you know them. I mean, really know them. They feel almost like a part of you

Kuroo: Seeing them hurt hurts you. You constantly feel the need to make sure that they're okay. Even the little things that kind of annoy you are a huge part of what you love about them

Kuroo: You find yourself smiling at them, even when they're doing something completely mundane, and you could recognize their voice in a crowd. Suddenly, they went from just another person, to someone that you could find in a crowd, even if they blend in enough that they normally fade into the background

Kuroo: Hypothetically speaking, of course

Kei was surprised by how much his mentor was able to type out in such a short amount of time, but in the end, he was most surprised by how much it lined up with what you had told him earlier. The basics were the same, and Kei sighed, realizing what this meant for him.

Kei: How to I make it stop?

Kei: Hypothetically

Kuroo: When I figure that out, I'll let you know

Kei blinked at that, then sighed again.

Kei: Thanks, Kuroo-san.

Kuroo: Sure thing Skinny, let me know how it goes

Kuroo: Hypothetically, of course

Kei couldn't help but chuckle softly, and he set his phone aside, wondering whether this was going to change anything, and how long he had been in love with you.

He had always noticed the little things about you, it was just a part of him being perceptive, and he had grown up with you, so he automatically knew you better than 80 percent of the people you went to school with.

But he was more in tune with your presence than even Tadashi was. And he had always managed to pick your voice out in a crowd.

He glanced down at you, and suddenly, instead of being worried about if he was in love you, he was more worried about whether you loved him back or not.

Kei debated texting Tadashi, but he decided that it could wait, and he wanted to enjoy this time with you unhindered.

Kei knew that he was never going to say anything unless he was sure you felt the same way about him.

For one thing, you were nice enough that it was entirely possible that you would date him just because you were too nice to say no. For another thing, he wasn't the kind of guy to make a move if he thought it wouldn't lead to a win. Not to mention, that if you he did ask you out and you said no, that might make things awkward in the friend group, and Kei didn't want that to happen.

He had gone this long, right? What was a few more weeks?

But, of course, things didn't go the way that Kei wanted them to.

As the end of a semester approached, as well as the end of the year, projects piled on, as did speeches and tests.

Kei had always done well academically, and he wasn't as stressed as some of the other people he knew, like Hinata and Kageyama.

You seemed to be feeling the pressure too, even though Kei knew that you were going to be getting some of the higher grades in class, just like always.

You were freaking out more than usual, and Kei realized that he needed to do something if he didn't want you to overwork yourself.

He found you on the swings at the park by your house.

He had gone over to make sure that you had eaten something, but your mother had told him that you had gone out earlier, and that she didn't know where you were.

"Hey," he said, announcing his presence as he settled beside you.

"Hey Kei," you replied, staring at the ground in front of you like it held the key to the universe.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you admitted. "I'm so nervous and freaked out that I can't eat anything. I have that weird mineral deficiency so drinking water just makes me really dizzy and I almost passed out when I stood up at the end of the day and there's nothing I can do about it! Not to mention that, once again, I got stuck with the morons that aren't going to do anything to help me with the project so I'm stuck doing everything by myself. For some of my classes, that's okay, I can just tell the teacher that they didn't help, but for some of them they're going to give me that bullshit lecture about working together. I have no idea what to do my speech about for that one class, and I have so many back to back tests that I think I might forget everything!"

Kei let you ramble, watching the way your hands moved around, trying to communicate the stress and anger and nerves that you were experiencing all at once.

He watched the way yours eyes widened and squeezed shut to add extra emphasis. He watched the way you glanced over at him to make sure that he was still paying attention, to make sure that you weren't annoying him, the way you smiled a little bit whenever you noticed that he was watching you and that you weren't annoying him by talking.

Somehow, you started talking about the constant love letters that he was getting.

"I mean, I get that some girls feel the need to have a boyfriend," you said, rolling your eyes, "but I have bigger things to worry about than their attraction to you, you know? One girl gave me a letter the other day, and I was so tired that I didn't realize what it was, and I started to read it and I was caught between wanting to laugh, cry, and hurl all at the same time."

Kei perked up at that.

"It made me kinda sad too," you admitted, your voice quieting. "I mean, it must really suck for you, getting all these letters claiming that they love you when they don't even know that first thing about who you are. I mean, it was hilarious that she even thought that you were interested in getting a girlfriend, and it was sickening how many times she used the words 'hot', 'sexy', and 'unadulteratedly handsome' to describe you."

Kei knew he made a face at that, with the way you laughed, before you continued, your voice even quieter than it had been, "But it made me sad to think that you keep having to read these things. They claim that they love you, that they want to be with you, and they don't even know who you are. Not in a way that matters at least. I don't know, it was just kind of depressing I guess."

You glanced at him, turning to face him.

"I hope you don't mind, but I started throwing them away. I'm getting sick and tired of being their carrier pigeon, and I really hate thinking about you having to deal with them all the time. If they want to confess they can find another way to do it."

"I don't mind, at all," he assured you, and you smiled at him.

But then your smiled faded into something similar to a frown.

"Hey, Kei?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that promise we made when we were kids?"

"How could I forget? You never shut up about it during middle school," he teased.

"I broke that promise," you whispered. "That was one of the reasons that those letters made me so upset. As someone who has loved you, really loved you, for longer than they've known about you, it made me sick to read some of the things they said. I know that that makes me sound like some kind of possessive bitch, but it's true."

Kei stared at you, wondering if he had just heard that right.

You were in love with him? And had been for more than three years?

Kei felt like the breath had been knocked out of him.

"What's with the face Kei?" you asked. "I thought you knew already."

Kei didn't think that his eyes could get any wider than they were at that moment.

"Y-You . . . I-I what?"

"Come on Kei, you had to have noticed by now," you said, looking more concerned by the second. "I mean, it's not like I act the same way around everyone else that I do around you."

Kei let his brain process the things that you were telling him before he managed to squeak out, "You mean, like a friend thing right?"

You bit your lip, checking his face for something, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

"No, Kei," you said finally. "I mean like, I want to be your girlfriend kind of love."

You weren't looking at him now, and he was worried you were taking this the wrong way. He didn't want this to end in a misunderstanding so he sighed dramatically.

"So, you're telling me that I could have confessed months ago and avoided the entire overthinking part of my recent internal panic?" he asked, watching the way your brows furrowed with confusion, the way your head whipped up when you finally realized what he was saying to you.

"A-Are you saying that the feeling is mutual?" you asked, eyes wide as you both looked at each other.

"Yes, you dumbass," he teased, smiling softly at you. "I broke that promise too, so it's okay, since we both broke it."

Now you were the one staring at him in disbelief.

Then you were off your swing and pacing in front of them, waving your hands around like a madwoman.

"Holy shit, you love me back," you muttered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye every few seconds, like you were worried he would disappear. "I-I don't know what to do from here. I never thought that I would get this far. Is . . . is this where we talk about whether we want this to be a serious thing?" you asked. "Is this where we agree that we love each other but we pretend like nothing's changed? What am I supposed to do in this situation?"

"For one thing," Kei said, standing so that he could wrap his hands around your wrists, gently making you look at him. "You could calm down and let me get a word or two in before you make yourself black out."

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"For another," he continued, "you and I should go back to your house. Your mom is worried sick about you, and you need to eat something before you pass out. We can have a serious talk about what this means once you aren't in danger of passing out from exhaustion or malnutrition."

"Okay, but only because I know that you're going to make me do it anyway," you told him, making him laugh.

You both walked in silence for a while before you asked, "When did you realize?"

"A few months ago," he admitted. "I think I've always known, but that guy- the slimeball that I blocked- got on my nerves enough that I knew it wasn't some platonic 'protect a friend' thing. I started seeing it more and more after that. I talked to Kuroo-san about it when I was nearly 100 percent sure, and that solidified it for me I guess, that night you and Tadashi stayed over and we watched that horrid slasher film. I woke up and you were right there by my side, and suddenly I couldn't imagine waking up any other way."

"That really was a horrible movie," you muttered. "I didn't think you were going to be the cheesy one today, but then again, you are always surprising me. And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I was worried it would make things awkward, and I didn't want to say something and be wrong, you know? Besides, you can't say anything. How long have you known?"

"Do you remember the summer before our third year in middle school and we all stayed at my grandparents' camp for three weeks?"

"That long? We were- what?- twelve?"

"Yeah. I remember that there was a thunderstorm the first night we were there, and I got up in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep, so I stood on the deck, in a tank top and shorts because I wanted to. I don't even remember how long I had been out there when you wandered out. I remember calling you a dumbass because 'What if I was a murderer?' and you just called me short.

"We both stood there for a few minutes, and when I shivered, you wrapped your arms around my waist from behind me, pressing your chest to my back and calling me an idiot for wearing something so light in the middle of a thunderstorm. Instead of doing the sensible thing and getting a blanket or a jacket, you just hugged me and stood there with me until I couldn't stand it and we went inside."

Kei remembered that. He had seen you standing out on the deck when the lightning had flashed, and he had been worried when you weren't in your room, so he had gone out to check on you.

You had looked so happy, standing there in the rain, listening to the thunder crash in the distance.

He had wanted to stay with you, so he had.

It was one of the first times he had decided that he didn't care what it looked like, he cared for you, and he was going to show it somehow.

Kei slipped his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers together.

You glanced at him, but you didn't say anything, just squeezed his hand and walked with him.

When you both got back to your house, you grabbed a plate of food and plopped down at your desk in your room.

Kei lounged on your bed while you ate, watching you flip through a textbook and scribble notes in between bites of food.

When you pushed the plate to the side, your turned to face him.

"So."

You both locked eyes and chuckled.

"I already told you what I wanted out of this," you told him, shrugging. "I'm fine with whatever we decide, but that's my best case scenario ending for this."

"You make this sound like a business meeting," he teased, watching you stand up to move next to him on your bed.

"What do you want from this, Kei?" you asked, glancing down at your lap.

"I want you to be my girlfriend," he admitted. "I want to glare at guys that think they even have a chance with you. I want to kiss you for good luck before a game, all that sappy shit that everyone says that I wouldn't be into."

You smiled, laughing a little breathlessly for a moment before you comprehended everything he said.

"All of it?" you asked, turning those damned doe eyes on him again.

"All of it," he confirmed.

You chuckled softly, taking his hand again.

"Good. Me too."

"Good," he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

You giggled, something that made Kei stop for a moment, because you weren't the type of girl to giggle, at anything.

He smiled softly at you, and he wondered how much shit he was going to get from his team with you around, but he realized that it wasn't anything he needed to worry about yet.

Then he remembered something else.

"Hey, do you want to cause a little chaos?" Kei asked you.

"How so?"

"Remember how I said I talked to Kuroo-san?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he wanted me to let him know how it went," Kei admitted. "I have him, Bokuto, Akaashi, Lev, and Hinata in a discord group chat. I want to try something, if you're okay with it."

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, arching an eyebrow, a smirk on your lips that said you were up for almost anything.

Skinny: img.jpg

Skinny: Thanks Kuroo-san

five people are typing...

Kei laughed, leaning over to show you the chaos that had ensued when he had sent the group chat the photo of you kissing his cheek.

You giggled at the many exclamation points and question marks, snickering at Kuroo's reply.

"I love you," you told him, kissing his cheek again.

"I love you too," he said, ignoring the calls that were coming through on his phone as he leaned over to cup your face in his hands.

504 notes · View notes

libraryofloveletters · 3 years

Text

Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context)

Category: fluff for the most part.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do.

-----

Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication.

Letters had always been more of your thing.

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him.

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30.

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter.

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving.

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment.

September 30th.

‘Hi baby!

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon.

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ?

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :)

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you.

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd.

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure. I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back.

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor.

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming)

Peace out,

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind.

November 4th.

‘Dear Evan,

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you.

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter.

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up.

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer.

Anyways, signing off for now.

Yours always, y/n.

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet.

December 21st.

‘Hey y/n,

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me.

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now.

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun.

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now.

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description.

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ?

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n.

Peace out,

Evan.

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th.

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it.

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan,

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ?

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go.

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories.

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had.

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah)

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present?

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country.

February 12th.

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it, a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name.

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas.

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me.

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell)

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ?

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it.

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it.

Peace out,

Buck’

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash.

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there.

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August.

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it.

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now.

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall.

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that.

Except, she was still busy.

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile.

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n.

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties.

A fresh start.

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into.

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates.

Buck’s last letter to you.

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing.

‘Dear Buck,

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change.

Guess where I decided to go ?

Did you guess yet?

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ?

LA!

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.)

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ?

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first.

Yours always, y/n.’

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye.

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor.

The unit number was the only difference.

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in.

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address.

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall.

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years.

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you.

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door.

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?”

“I am, who are you ?”

“Y/n.”

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled.

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar.

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer.

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter.

“Water’s fine, thanks”

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you.

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile.

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?”

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose”

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums.

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before.

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?”

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact.

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer.

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?”

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles.

“Buck, we live in the same building.”

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other.

“Okay.”

----

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

Text

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xlvi - kinky fantasy

<< previous | masterlist | next >>

??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

When you got back to the frat, you realized how silent it is. Usually, the boys would be running around everywhere, wreaking havoc in the best way possible. But the silence that enveloped the frat was quite a nice change. Slightly eerie, but still nice.

Realizing that there were probably no one around to bother you, you decided to try on the new clothes you just got.

You got into your room without closing the door all the way, leaving it slightly ajar. You put the shopping bags on your bed and put your own bag next to them.

Without wasting much time, you immediately unpacked the contents of the shopping bag, grinning at the items you bought. You bought some clothes that you'd wear out but those weren't the ones that made you feel giddy and excited.

Your hand excitedly reached into the black shopping bag and took out the contents carefully. The boys had been quite affectionate with you lately and you've been getting laid way more than you usually did. That increased your libido and was actually why you went shopping.

The fabric of the lace black and red bustier set was different compared to the pink babydoll. You had also paired a black choker and black mid-thigh length stocking for the bustier set and white thigh-highs for the babydoll. You laid them both to decide which one to try first.

Finally, you decided on trying the babydoll first. You slipped your clothes off and began putting on the garment. As you had hoped, it was perfect for you. It's the perfect amount of cute combined with sexiness but is still comfortable. The fabric felt soft on you and it just made you felt good.

Lastly, you decided to go all-in and try the thigh-highs as well. You sat at the edge of your bed and began pulling one up your leg.

But as you were putting on the other one, someone had opened the door, making you jump up to cover your body with the shirt you had just worn before you took it off. Not that it helped cover anything.

"(Y/N), I heard you came back a- what are you doing?" Jongho blinked his eyes innocently at you, half in confusion.

Neither one of you said anything, only staring at each other. You, not knowing exactly what to say or how to explain yourself. Jongho, still not realizing that you had been caught off-guard trying on your new lingerie.

It wasn't until Jongho's eyes shifted over your body that a smirk appeared on his face. "Oh, I see what you were doing," he closed the door and walked over to you. He knelt in front of you and carefully took a hold of the thigh-highs that was pulled up only until your calf, "may I?" he asked, looking up at you.

You bit your bottom lip but nodded at him. Before his hands moved to pull the thigh-highs over, he nodded at the shirt you were using to shield your scantily clad body.

"Show me what you were trying on," he ordered. You blushed but obeyed him promptly. You put the shirt down onto the bed and let his eyes roam over your body.

You knew Jongo has quite the baby girl kink so when his tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, you almost whimpered submissively at him.

His eyes slowly move downwards from your face to your chest and then to your thighs, and finally to the thigh-highs. As his fingers glided over the thin material, his eyes followed up very slowly. Once the material was fully on you, he let his fingers traced over the hem before it rested on your inner thighs and his lips left a trail of kisses from your knee up to your thighs.

"Please tell me you bought this for me," he mumbled against your skin. You held back a moan when his hands began squeezing your thighs, one of his hands snuggly in between your legs, strategically placed so close to your core.

"I mean, you were one of the few main reasons I bought this particular piece," you giggled when he bit lightly at the skin of your thigh. He groaned lowly at your response before suddenly pouncing on you, hovering over your body as he melded his lips with yours.

Your hands immediately tangle themselves up in his hair, tugging on them and letting your fingernails scrape on his scalp. His lips moved with yours to express his urgency, you knew he wanted and needed you that moment.

"J-Jongho," you called out to him. He only grunted in response, lips too preoccupied nibbling your bottom one and hands roaming all over your body, enjoying the feeling of your lingerie. "Jongho," you called him again, whining.

Reluctantly, Jongho got off your lips and moved to the junction of your neck, "what?" he mumbled against your skin. Without having to look at him, you knew he had his eyes closed. Whenever you have the chance, you'd most likely dress up a little for him. Visual stimulation tends to drive Jongho a little crazy and when he does, these tend to be mind-numbingly amazing.

"I'm still on my period, Ho," you told him. When you felt his lips stopped moving on your skin, you bit your bottom lip in anticipation of what his reaction might be.

He suddenly dropped his whole body weight on you and rested his chin on your chest. He was looking at you with the best puppy eyes he could muster, "does that mean I can't fuck you?" his bottom lip jutted out adorably. You cooed at him, your hands moved to push his hair away from his face, "Unless you want a messy, bloody dick, then I'm afraid not," you pouted back at him.

Jongho groaned loudly before burying his face on your chest. "This is not fair, I really wanna fuck you and this little outfit made you look extra fuckable," you heard him grumble even though it was a bit muffled. You chuckled at how he's acting right now, "you drama queen, there are other ways to get your dick wet,"

At the proposition of having other options, Jongho lifted his head up at you, interested. "I can always suck you off," you suggested, "or jack you off," you added, "or I can use your thighs?" he asked. You tilted your head at him, "what, like humping on me?" he rolled his eyes at you, "no, like fucking myself with your thighs,"

You pondered over the idea for a bit. You may not be able to get your pussy pounded right now, but the idea of having Jongho used you like a sex toy is beyond arousing.

"Okay, how do you want to do this?" you smirked at him. Hearing your confirmation, Jongho visibly perked up. "You're not gonna regret this," he said before returning to connect his lips with yours in a heated kiss.

You moaned when you felt his hands reached up and squeeze your boobs. His fingers slipped into the cups of your bra to play with your nipples. He expertly rolled and pinch them, playing them however he likes. The added pleasure from his toying on your chest shot straight to your core. Your thighs automatically widened and grind onto Jongho's hips.

When your core made contact with him, you could feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. You moaned into his mouth at the thought of how he was probably already leaking.

Your hands move on their own, shoving into his pants to feel him, He was already erect, his cock felt heavy and hot in your hand.

As you began to stroke him slowly, Jongho grunted into your mouth. His teeth sunk into your bottom lip when your thumb pressed on his slit. Though it stung slightly, the feeling soon dissipated and turn into added pleasure.

When Jongho began grinding into your hand, you felt like you wanted to see more. So your free hand tugged on his sweatpants to conveyed what you wanted to him. Jongho leaned back slightly to see your pouty face. How he loves it when you're whiny and begging for him.

He simply chuckled but granted your request. He scooted backwards to his feet and began undressing. As he slowly peeled his shirt off, revealing his broad chest and shoulder, your legs dropped open and you immediately press two fingers to your clit, making you moan. Just before Jongho pulled his sweatpants off, he heard you moaned and smirked teasingly, "didn't know me stripping would have such an effect on you," he simply said before pulling his pants and boxers off with one single motion.

At the sight of his erection, your eyes zeroed in on it. Your eyes glazed over the pretty veins on it and you licked your lips when you see his reddened tip, his precum only making his cock look even more appealing.

Jongho chuckled at the way you're blatantly checking his dick out. "You can have this inside your pretty pussy after you're done bleeding," he joked which made you scowl at him.

Instead of getting back on top of you, he swept the shopping bags off your bed and plopped down in the middle of it. He turned his head to you and patted his lap, "hop on baby," he grinned.

You giggled at the way he addressed you but immediately move to straddle his lap. Once you were situated comfortably, you began grinding your clothed core directly on his dick whilst maintaining eye contact with him. With the intensity of everything, Jongho was looking at you with a very wild, animalistic stare.

"Let me rephrase what I said earlier," his hands shot up to your hips and he held you still, "once your period's done," he thrust his hips towards your core, sending you gasping and almost toppling over due to his strength, "I'm not," another thrust, "letting you," another thrust, "get off," another thrust, "my dick,"

At his last word, he pulled you down onto his chest and melded your mouths again, "keep your legs straight and closed, baby," he mumbled against your lips.

You did as he told and soon enough, he manoeuvred his dick with his hand to slip between your thighs. The feeling of his dick between your thighs felt different but in a good way. While you usually could feel him directly inside of you, the feeling of being so close to having him inside but not being able to really do so increased your desire to have him.

Jongho thrusted slowly at first, wanting to see how you'd react to the new position. "Tell me," you started, detaching your mouth from his to nibble at his earlobe, "did you learn this from watching porn?" you asked. He craned his neck to expose more of his skin to you, "do you study before tests?" he answered back.

You rolled your eyes at him and bit on his collarbone, "how dare you compare me to tests," you mumbled against his skin. He chuckled but ignored your comment.

He moved his legs to trap you between his strong thighs, making sure that he's snug between your legs. At the change of position, his dick is not only snugly in between your legs but was also pressing at your pussy.

As he increased the speed of his thrust, you moaned loudly when his hips rub against your clit deliciously. Jongho took pride at how loud you're being, "don't hold back, baby, no one's home other than us,"

You did, in fact, moaned louder. Especially when he started to literally use you like a sex toy. He gripped your hips and thrust himself furiously. You knew that he was only thinking about making himself cum. Not that you were complaining because he was doing everything and your job was only to lay there, looking pretty. There was even the added bonus of your pussy receiving some indirect attention.

To add to his pleasure, your hands began roaming on his chest and playing with his nipples as your mouth leave marks on his beautifully tanned skin.

Jongho groaned when you pinched both of his nipples rather harshly. "Make yourself cum for me, Jongho, make me not regret buying this piece of lingerie," you moaned into his ear. With the way your teeth tugging at any skin you could reach and your hand teasing his nipples, it didn't take long for his hips to falter, a sign that he was so close to his release.

You pushed him to the edge by clenching and unclenching your thighs as your lips found their way back to his. Whilst your tongue lashed with each other, you felt Jongho stilled and warm spurt of his cum painted the back of your thigh. To prolong his climax, you ground yourself on him which proved to be effective.

As he relaxed and tried to catch his breath, you simply lied on his body with your arms underneath your head. Your fingers traced shapes on his chest while his tugged on the fabric of your babydoll.

"I really do like this lingerie," he said, breaking the silence. You giggled and looked up to him, "of course you do, Jongho, I know your style," you said before pressing a kiss to his chin.

He suddenly reached to the bedside table to take a few tissues to clean you up from his cum. When you were cleaned up, he patted your butt with a smile on his face, "now, I'd like to see what else you bought so you're gonna do a little fashion show for me,"

You squealed in delight at his idea and immediately jump up to do what he said.

As you were pulling the garments from the bags, Jongho's eyes followed after your movements as he smirked, "and who knows, maybe that'll lead us to a second round," he joked.

You threw a random piece of clothing at him but laughed nevertheless.

"You wish."

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fayeimara · 3 years

Text

Miya Osamu || Little Delights | First Meeting

SUMMARY. Osamu can't help but be intrigued when his daughter starts bringing home delicious desserts prepared by her best friend's mother.

PAIRING. You x Miya Osamu

GENRE. Fluff <3

WARNINGS. Suggestive content

Haikyuu! Anthology Series | It's Fate When Your Kids Are Friends

OSAMU | First Meeting > Second Date > Third Time's The Charm > Four Is Our Family

Osamu's made it just in time, right as the bell tolls to signal the end of his daughter's second day in her new school year. Standing back as a swarm of kids rush out of the brick building and into the arms of their waiting parents, he takes a moment to breathe and relax. Juggling his burgeoning restaurant with being a single parent isn't an easy job, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

He stands taller than many of the other adults around him and it's evident his little girl has no problem seeking him out as a black, red, and grey blur races towards him, a thrilled, "Papa!" reaching his ears and splitting his mouth into a wide, happy grin.

His arms are already open in a silent but enthusiastic response as he crouches down and then the bite-sized impact of his daughter is rocking him back on his heels, his reaction overly exaggerated as he pretends to almost fall over from the small force of nature that's all Miya Izumi.

Standing back up, Samu catches sight of another little girl who was trailing behind, wide eyes studying him before shifting to Zumi, his daughter turning back around to wave at her, proclaiming the girl as her 'bestest friend in the whole wide world'. The girl returns Zumi's enthusiastic wave with a quick raise of her small hand before her attention is caught by a pretty young woman, her own wide smile replacing her previously hesitant expression as she's warmly enveloped into welcoming arms with kisses peppered on her cheeks and forehead.

Her delighted giggles reach Osamu and his daughter as they turn around, hand in hand, to walk back to his car, small interaction soon forgotten as his little munchkin lists off the snacks she's looking forward to having on their return to his shop. She won't be able to finish half that list, he bets to himself with a quiet chuckle at his daughter's inherited exuberance for food as he securely buckles her into car.

It's not until they reach his second pride and joy, Onigiri Miya, that he finds the first little surprise tucked away in Izumi's not so empty lunchbox. When he inquires about the remarkably delicious looking set of biscuits he certainly didn't pack for her that morning, his daughter's response is that it's a thank you gift from her bestest friend, Reina, for the lunch she'd shared with the girl on her first day.

Well, a six year old certainly didn't bake these from the looks of it. It's only confirmed by his first taste, the texture and flavour beyond even most consistent home bakers, let alone a young child. Right? But a more pressing thought flags his attention, first.

"Did your friend not have her own lunch?"

"She did! We split because hers wasn't so good, even though her mama put so much love into it. But the treats were so much better so we decided to go halfsies and have best of both!" His daughter giggles with the oblivious sweet innocence of a child.

"And what about today?"

"Mhm. Same. But I liked the chocolate brownies yesterday much much better!"

Samu chuckles at her excitement and can't help but tease his precocious daughter, "Oh, and was it better than papa's food?"

Zumi's eyes widen as she contemplates the question with all the adorable seriousness she can muster, but loyalty must break free and run because her reply is, "Almost! So close, but I love papa's cooking more than anything in the whole wide world."

It seems the whole wide world is the current standard of measurement for first graders, but he appreciates the heartfelt sentiment behind her loving words.

After another moment of consideration, Osamu settles on the thought chewing at him and decides that tomorrow his daughter won't be giving up a portion of his food which she loves so much. No, she'll have double the amount to do with whatever she may please.

So briefly, that he doesn't even ponder on the sudden image, he's reminded of the warm reunion he witnessed between the little girl and the woman who he'd assumed was her nanny, but concludes is probably the girl's young mother. Based on the number of treats Zumi brought back, Samu's certain the woman had to have thoughtfully made extras of these baked goods for her daughter to have more than enough to share with friends and then some.

Well, it's definitely no skin off his back to make his daughter even the slightest bit happier by being able to help her share her savoury little delights with her new bestest friend.

It's on the third day of your daughter's return from her new school year that you're able to confirm that something is indeed amiss. The previous two days, the small portions of her lunch left uneaten were questionable, given her voracious appetite, however, when she returns with the lunch you made for her today still sitting wholly untouched in her cute little lunchbox, you finally sit her down to ask about it.

Her response is far from what you expected, "My friend's papa made extra lunch so we could both have something yummy to eat!"

You press your lips together to hide your amusement as you teasingly inquire, "Oh? Is that so? And I guess that means mama's food isn't so yummy after all."

Her eyes widen in dismay and mouth opens in an immediate denial that you know would be a lie to soothe your feelings. Even at such a young age, your beautiful baby girl is truly a kind and compassionate soul, she would dutifully eat anything you prepared no matter how lacking the meal might be and never utter a word to tell you the obvious truth.

Before she can manage to find the right words to faithfully express how much she loves your cooking, you lean in to kiss her on the forehead and pull back with a laugh, gathering her in your arms for a warm hug. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry I can't make you the food you deserve. But please don't ever feel the need to say otherwise to spare my feeling, okay? You should always be honest about what you like or don't like."

Her little arms find their way around you as she snuggles in, voice soft and words like a wise, old soul when she denies, "But your food is made with so much love mama. Zumi says some people are just better at other things. We both think you make the best yummies."

"The best yummies, hm?" You think about the various baked goods you add in to balance out for the healthy but tasteless lunches you're able to prepare.

They are indeed good, but baking has always been something that comes more naturally to you than cooking. An interesting distinction not many people might accept, but for you the former has always been an effortless science whereas the latter is more of a difficult art.

"Well I'm really glad you like those, but we do need to figure out what to do so you're not picking at your friends' food or going hungry."

She pulls back to send a serious look your way, exclaiming, "But I'm not picking at it, I promise. Zumi said her papa made extra just for me!"

You take a moment to consider her words. She made a similar implication in her earlier statement, that her friend's dad had made extra for them both. What does that mean? Did his daughter ask him to because she was sharing her food with Reina? Or did he somehow grasp the situation and is simply being generous?

A warm burn threatens your cheeks as you consider the awkwardness of accepting such a gesture from a complete stranger. While you appreciate the kindness of Reina's friend and her dad, it still somehow feels like a terrible imposition, as if you've burdened them somehow with your lack of skills to keep your child happily fed.

It's not like you can't cook good, healthy food. You're just painfully aware how bland the food you make can be, unless you spend three times the amount of time as anyone else would need to in order to prepare similar meals. But... studying the smile that's on your daughter's face, you can't help the twinge in your heart that reminds you how much more her happiness is worth than your pride.

You won't assume this will be a daily occurrence and you'll continue to make your daughters lunches so she never goes without, however, it'll be no extra trouble for you to make double the batch of baked goods than usual. After all, you usually account for the fact that she'll be sharing with friends and classmates anyways.

However, you're now determined there will be enough delicious snacks for Reina to share not only around at school, but also some treats for her sweet friend Izumi to take home for her generous parents. Perhaps, you think, it might be prudent to include a short message, thanking the man for his thoughtful effort.

Silent gratitude isn't very much to anyone ~ (So I hope you and your family will accept these.) Thank you for your kindness, Miya-san.

Osamu blinks, unaware of the small smile that curves his lips as he reads the delicate, handwritten note carefully wrapped around one of the cupcakes Izumi brought back home today. There are only three of the original twelve left, apparently, but the one he's just bitten into is as incredible as expected.

If he's correct in his assumption from the note addressed directly to him and included with today's delightful treats, then the little girl's mother has picked up on his small action and is returning the gesture to convey her thanks. The thought is confirmed by his daughter explaining that one of each of the three cupcakes is for their family.

Three for their family? Hm. Well, it's just him and Zumi, but he's sure his brother will be all over the remaining offering when he visits tonight. If there's any left for him that is. Probably won't be, it's really just that good and anyways, he doesn't need Atsumu nosing his way into this simple exchange as it is.

The following day, Friday morning, Samu pens back his own note, assuring the woman that no thanks is necessary. There's no reason for her to express her gratitude over what's really such a simple action for him.

That evening, he and Zumi enjoy some quality mochi delivered in a white, rectangular box with a pretty decently hand-drawn background scene at a spring festival on the cover. Two little girls, one that looks remarkably like his daughter and the other like her best friend, hold hands in the centre of the street dressed in traditional yukata and sharing a box of what he assumes is mochi.

As they much into the chewy treats, he watches and listens as his daughter points out the bright colours she and her friend chose to fill into what was apparently initially a blank canvas for them to colour on. Her delight at having a pink and grey yukata, even if only in a drawing, prompting him to make a mental note about looking into the clothing and any upcoming festivals.

Osamu makes a point of saving the box, childlike scribbles over the simple sketch leaving a warm feeling in his chest and a slightly wider smile gracing his mouth.

The response he receives the Monday evening (from his penned message the Friday before) is enough to prompt a full smirk that, this time, doesn't go unnoticed by him. The woman showed an interesting sense of humour and gracious acceptance with the first cupcake note. Then, a sweet and thoughtful disposition with the drawing included as part of the soft treat for the girls Friday.

But now, Samu sees a challenging firmness in her reply to his easy brush off of her thanks, delicate lines yet again adorning the small card carefully tucked into a pretty red ribbon that's tied around and decorating another white, rectangular box.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it ~ So please accept this gift without concern.

Sitting inside are four differently coloured, rounded treats that look familiar but he can't place off the top of his head. A quick search identifies the delicate confections as macarons, the colorful delights an absolute wonder as the airy crunch of the top and bottom shells simultaneously give way to a firm filling with the first bite, the sweet flavour almost dissolving on his tongue.

He and Zumi finish the box off in minutes, three of each flavour included to a total of four different flavours, so both he and his daughter each get seconds of their respective favourites.

The next morning, filled with anticipation at what new surprises you might include with the goods you send today, he's fully aware of the grin that stretches his face as he writes out a note of his own for you to receive later this evening.

The macarons were inspiring. Izumi and I definitely won't turn away any gifts you'd like to send our way. I wonder... what other surprises do you have up your sleeve? I sent a little something your way to inspire you too. - M. Osamu

The neatly written note returned, once again, on the back of the small rectangular card you'd last sent, brings a warm smile to your face. The various onigiri that came along with it, apparently with specific instructions communicated from Izumi to Reina that today's additional quantity is set aside for you specifically, stretches the amused curl of your lips into a delighted grin.

You split each of the four different types of rice balls with your daughter, listening to her input on the delicious food as she points out her order of most to least favourite. Although there's not a single one you wouldn't eat on any given day if given the choice, the food is simply divine.

Your note the following day is a compliment to the chef, with a cheeky inquiry as to what deities one must pray to in order to make food like that. His response is a swift rebuttal asking what cruel gods bless some with the skills to cook but others with the skills to bake, ironically echoing your own thoughts from the previous week.

So goes the back and forth for weeks, notes getting cuter, sassier, and more personal as jokes, challenges, and encouragements alike are enclosed among the lunches of two excited little girls, their own bond strengthening with this unique camaraderie between their parents, until you feel the peculiar sense that you know the man on the other end, without ever even having actually met him.

Then, one day, three weeks into the first exchange, you receive a note that makes your heart beat in your throat at the unspoken challenge which raises the stakes of the now familiar routine. It's a simple response to your unassuming request for the onigiri recipes you initially received as the first returned delight, a meal you and Reina have been craving since the first taste.

I can do one better and teach you. xxx-xxx-xxxx. - Osamu

There's no reason to be shy or hesitant, is there? After all, it's a kind offer that will only serve you and Reina well with your future attempts at her lunches. You can't count on Miya Osamu's kindness forever.

Fingers still shaking, you dial the number enclosed within and find the call picked up before the first ring even finishes.

"I wasn't sure ya'd actually call."

Oh, wow, that's a voice to melt hearts alright. You're still smiling as you immediately reply in beat, with the easy familiarity of your shared repartee over the last few weeks, "With an offer like that, how could I not?"

He's quiet for a second and you start to lose your smile, suddenly worrying that perhaps you've acted too familiarly with a man that's all but a stranger and offended him. But his next words, slowly expelled in a lazy but thoughtful drawl, have your heart beating fast for an entirely different reason, "I had a feeling ya'd sound as pretty as ya write."

Now you're the one that's silent but it's entirely because you're at a loss for words, this quietly charming man having stolen them right from the tip of your tongue.

A low chuckle breaks what you realized was actually somehow still a remarkably comfortable silence and then his delicious voice reaches you again, "I hope I didn't scare ya voice away. It'd be a shame now that I've only just heard it."

Okay so he's maybe much more of a flirt than the subtle hints you'd noticed over the notes, but then again, they were delivered through your daughters as messengers so it would be reasonable he would have toned it down. Then again, what kind of man flirts with a woman he's never met previously? He doesn't even know what you look like. Have you captured his interest solely through your mutual correspondence?

You almost snort, catching your thoughts and feeling like you're the main character to some historical romance. Maybe during a world war era. Mutual correspondence. Right. What are you even thinking? He's got you flustered already.

"Funny. I would never have imagined you would sound so pretty from the way you write." You're tempted to arch an eyebrow with your audible smirk but then you remember that it's not like he can see it.

"Ya think my voice is pretty, do ya?" His tone is full with soft satisfaction, "Maybe ya can tell me if it's better in person."

"And here I thought the offer on the table was for learning a delicious recipe."

You swear you hear the smile in his response, "Sounds like yer in either way."

"Sounds like I am." You concede in mock resignation but you're painfully aware that your words and following sigh sound more like a promise.

You and Reina find the charming storefront quite easily from Samu's instructions. It's finally the weekend, several days since your first call with him, and your handwritten notes have now upgraded into convenient, daily text messages.

He's definitely confident and teasing but not quite the overt flirt you briefly considered he might be from a few days ago. In fact, he's more calm and grounded, even if he can be a smooth talker, but you've quickly found that what came across as flirtatious was actually just him being honestly direct. Which is both exciting and flattering enough to make you nervous for this first real meeting today.

A soft chime sounds as you open the door to usher Reina through before following her in yourself. The first thing your eyes land on is a small girl running to your daughter like a heat seeking missile and the two collide in an adorably sweet hug, somehow understanding each other while seemingly talking simultaneously.

With a small smile on your face, you take a moment to survey your surroundings and find your bearings in this unfamiliar space. It's not an overly large area, focusing more on a cozy, comfortable atmosphere emphasized by the deliciously welcoming smell of various foods that make you feel right at home.

Your eyes run over the bar with stools lined against it before you do a double take, finally noticing the dark haired man that's leaning with his arms crossed against a door frame beyond it, watching as you examined his space.

He must be able to tell he's slightly startled you as an amused smile stretches his lips and he dips his head ever so slightly in greeting. "Welcome to Onigiri Miya."

"Thank you for inviting us, Miya-san." You bite your lip at your automatic formality, already certain what he's going to say next.

And he doesn't disappoint, eyebrow arching as he uncrosses his arms and, finally, steadily makes his way towards you, "I already told ya to call me Osamu. Or Samu."

Now you're smiling again because the situation is definitely out of the ordinary, the level of familiarity you feel with a man you're seeing for the first time can only be considered unusual. You take a moment to study him as he stops just before you, tall build with broad shoulders and a handsome face that looks like it belongs on a heartbreaker not a homemaker.

Your fingers itch to push back the locks of his hair peeking out from under his dark cap and falling over on side of his forehead, if only to have an excuse to run your hands through it. But that's definitely not appropriate no matter how comfortable you might already feel with this easygoing man.

"Right... Osamu, then. And of course, you can call me Y/n."

"Yer name and looks suit ya, just like yer voice and handwriting." He's got a small smile on his own face now and you're not sure if he's aware he basically just called you pretty. He doesn't really seem to do this on purpose, from what you've gathered.

You beam at him regardless and volley back, "Well, I can say the same for you too."

And for a brief second, that small smile splits into a quick grin that stutters the already erratic beat of your heart. Oh yes, this man is certifiably lethal in all the best ways.

"I'm happy to hear it. Now, let's sit ya down with the girls while I grab some things."

Izumi has already led Reina to a table by the window and Osamu gestures their way as he moves to lock the door behind where you came in and then moves off to the kitchen behind the bar again.

You notice with a little apprehension that the girls are sitting next to each other on one side of the booth still giddily talking together (although not over each other anymore) about friends and weekend plans and such, but you're not going to be the anxious oddball that separates them for seemingly no reason. Even if you're already sure of the overthinking you'll be doing at the thought of Samu sitting next to you in the booth.

He doesn't seem to think about it at all as he easily slides in, smoothly setting a plate and a tray with cups, glasses and a couple pitchers on the table just as you feel the left side of his body line up against your right. Okay, yeah, because this is totally normal for you. Not.

You hope neither he and especially not either of the kids can tell you're flustered, even as you feel the heat creep up your neck and flirt with your cheeks. Yup, normal day, normal day. Just a regular day with a new friend.

"Here ya go." You just hold yourself back from jumping when he hands you a cup from the tray and then leans over to pour what looks and smells like tea from one of the pitchers. If you're not going crazy, he's pressed even more against you for those long seconds, completely in your space even if it's not unwelcome.

He either knows exactly what he's doing or he's just one of those people that's never paid mind to polite social norms and rules of conduct that many prefer. While you're calming yourself down, he's already poured the girls juice from the second pitcher into their glasses and set out quarter plates in front of everyone.

You finally focus enough to take in the still steaming gyoza on the plate he'd placed down in the middle with confusion and ask, "I thought we would be making onigiri and eating it for lunch?"

"Of course, but I couldn't put ya to work on an empty stomach."

"Mhm." You give him a dubious look, you might have mentioned your early breakfast in one of your texts to him this morning, but you have a feeling that this is also an effort to make you and Reina feel comfortable in this space together instead of getting right into the cooking lessons planned for the day.

It's an incredibly thoughtful effort and that warm flush is threatening you again so you choose to tease him and deflect instead, "Somehow, I feel it's more about your empty stomach but okay, let's go with your version instead."

You lose the fight with the flush and flutters when he chuckles at your sassy retort, especially since you literally feel the vibrations melt from his body and into yours with the way he's still somewhat pressed into you. Does the man not have enough space in his own booth? Actually... you notice you can move closer to the window yourself since there's quite a bit of space on your side too but, then again, it would be a little obvious to shift now.

The girls pick up the fried dumplings by hand with happy exclamations as they bite right into theirs, you and Osamu following suit but not before placing another two on the plates in front of each of them and then splitting the remaining ones between you.

With a dip into the soy and vinegar sauce (chili excluded for the girls), you quickly bite into the first one and savour the sudden burst of flavour in your mouth. Oh wow, yes, this is exactly what your cooking is missing. This addictive, tasteful quality that makes you want multiple helpings of whatever's being served.

With a glance from the corner of your eye to the right, you meet Osamu's eyes studying your reaction and decide to ask the question on your mind, "You made these yourself right?"

"I did."

"Okay, they're hands down the best gyoza I've ever had." You compliment him genuinely before giving in to the urge to tease him yet again because the flutters are back, if they ever even left, and you can't have him knowing just how much he affects you, "But who ever heard of serving gyoza in an onigiri shop?"

He must catch the light, teasing tone because he just smirks and throws right back, "Well if they're as good as ya say, maybe I should expand the menu."

"Oh no, don't do that!" You laugh with wide eyes, "Then Reina and I will never find space when we try to come back here during regular hours! Actually, I'm sure you're already always packed, hm?"

"Some days and times less than others, but there will always be space for the two of ya whenever ya want to visit again."

Oh yeah, it's a losing battle, the flutters are a full on tsunami of feelings now. Just push it away and chill. But then he adds, "And I can teach ya this recipe too. Anytime there's something ya like or want to try, just let me know. I'm sure we can make an amazing cook outta ya yet."

Your mouth drops open followed by your blurted question, "Why are you helping me so much? I'm sure this is a lot of time and effort for you too."

You hear the girls' conversation pause as they pick up on some subtle change in either your body language or demeanour, but Osamu's calm eyes just meet your wide ones, his lips sliding into a soft smile, as he simply answers, "Because I like ya."

You feel like you're back in grade school because you want to ask if he means that he 'like' likes you or just... likes you. But there's no way you're going to ask that question, not only because it feels a bit asinine but because that's not a conversation to start in front of both of your daughters.

You look over to the girls who are watching with beaming smiles, maybe happy their parents are good friends just like the two of them, and you return their wide grins with a reassuring one of your own before looking back into steady grey eyes. "Well, I really appreciate your help. Thank you, Osamu."

"I'd say no thanks needed, but I've been down that road before." Another quick, heart-stopping grin graces his face, this one almost as roguish as his tone is playful. He's definitely referring to your initial correspondence when you made a firm point against his initial brush off, as if his actions in making extra lunch for your daughter to enjoy wasn't incredibly thoughtful and certainly out of his way.

"Well you certainly catch on quick. Let's just hope I can say the same." Your playful smile turns into a grimace at the thought of how difficult it might be to actually improve your skills. Maybe it's just a question of talent? Maybe you're just never going to be able to reproduce food like him.

But he glances over to catch your frown just in time and reassures, "I know what I'm doing. Soon enough, you will too. Just say you'll keep supplying me and Zumi with yer baking every once in a while when ya don't need us anymore."

You know he's probably joking with the last part but you hadn't planned on stopping. You love to share the goodies you bake with the people in your and Reina's life, it makes the two of you pretty happy so you're sure Izumi and Osamu will be able continue enjoying your baked goods to their heart's content.

"Izumi will definitely get her share of sweets and snacks every day." You send a smile her way when she hears you and bounces excitedly in her seat but then you force yourself to drop it and face Osamu with a challenging look instead, "But you... well, I guess we'll have to wait and if you're as good as you say and maybe then you can get some too."

He places a closed hand to his chest as if he's been struck, the girls laughing at his overdramatic reaction, but his widening smile gives him away. You look at each other for a suspended moment, with shared amusement but also the teasing heat of something else reflected in his achromatic eyes, which makes you certain he picked up on the unintended double entendre in your words.

"Sounds like a promise." Then with an arched eyebrow at the empty plates and cups in front of everyone, Samu asks, "So shall we get started?"

You agree, helping him clean up the table and he takes the opportunity to help you and Reina familiarize yourselves with the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon is spent in an equally easy cadence as he does indeed walk you through the steps of making his recipes, flavours included.

He starts with the simplest option, yaki onigiri, which is just fried rice shaped in a triangle or oval, and then demonstrates how to make and add a few of your and Reina's favourite fillings in to change and enhance the flavour. The girls enjoy making their own mini rice balls alongside the two of you and the time flies until you're all back at the table and having the onigiri you've just made for lunch.

You can't deny there's an improvement already but your little rice balls are still nowhere near the level of skill and flavour of Osamu's, even though he and the girls all assure you that you've done a great job. You accept their compliments with a smile and the determination to keep at it on your own time until you improve even further because Reina deserves better than even this.

By the time you finish eating, the girls are unsurprisingly tired out and choose to stay at the table to watch a Disney movie with Izumi's iPad. You can't help but smile in amusement while watching Osamu grab the thing from behind the bar, tapping away on the clunky looking device which is perfect for Izumi with a thick, pink rubber cover protecting it from grade-schooler level damage.

After the movie's been set up for the two worn out little munchkins, you and Osamu head back into the kitchen for him to show you how to make the gyoza and the next hour slips away with more teasing jokes, increasingly heated looks, and slightly bolder touches.

You can close your eyes and now know the feel of Osamu's hands on yours, demonstrating how to properly fold and pleat the wrappers. You can still feel the heat of his chest brush your back from when he leaned around you to pick up an empty bowl to place in the sink, and you're pondering on what feels like a heated brand on your hip where he lightly curved one hand to shift you over.

You can't deny your attraction to the man, a slow fall that you should have seen coming from the excitement of receiving his words every day until you were eagerly expecting the notes, to this first meeting where he's everything you expected from reading between his lines and even more.

Since the girls are pretty much full, you and Osamu clean off the new batch of gyoza between the both of you - him more than you, which you tease him about again. All the while, you're panicking about this new realization of your feelings, given that you're seriously crushing on a man who might only mean to help as a newfound friend and maybe you're the one reading too much into his interactions.

It's not until you've helped him clean up, collected the girls, and are watching him lock up the shop that you get some semblance of an answer.

"Thank you again Osamu. This was not only very instructive but Reina and I had a great time today."

He's holding Izumi's small hand in his, similar to Reina's in yours, and his other hand stretches up to rub at the back of his head, his arm bent at the elbow. When he speaks, it's not a direct response to your gratitude but a question instead, sounding somewhat unsure himself for the first time today, "How about next time we have a date that's more fun than instructive?"

Your jaw almost drops in surprise but you quickly collect yourself because he's still looking a little worried, maybe because he thinks he's overstepping by calling this a date or maybe because he's not sure you'll want another one even if you do accept that.

Your smile is quick to light up your face and, with a light squeeze from Reina's hand to yours accompanied by her and Izumi's giggles, you happily reply, "Just let me know when and where, and it's a date."

He grins again, the third time today your heart stops at what you're sure is usually a rarer sight since bodies aren't always dropping to the ground around him (that you've heard of). "I think I might already have something in mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but let me look into it and get back to ya."

"Sounds like a promise."

With your final reply, a borrowed echo of his words to serve as a temporary goodbye, you and Reina split away from Izumi and Osamu. Heading for your car with once last look behind you, you're pleasantly unsurprised to find a flash of gunmetal grey also glancing back your way. Later that night, finished with your and Reina's joint skincare routine and having tucked her into bed, you find the expected message waiting for you.

A/N: Okay wow I had SO much fun with this one! I hope you all do too <3 It's not triple edited per usual so please do let me know if you catch any errors or issues. No promises but probably dropping Atsumu’s First Meeting next ;)

Taglist: @yatoatyourservice, @crayonwriting

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tomodachi-z · 3 years

Text

A different take on their relationships

So I was scrolling through the genshin thread and soon came to a realization that most of the relationship Hc’s were pretty fluff based, which got me thinking - was that really all there was? Even if Genshin was a heartfelt game i couldnt really believe that all of them would be pure husband material - which sort of spiraled into this.

- This is purely my take on how some of the Genshin boys would approach relationships, its just some random thoughts though so take it as you will.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe

Tw: angst, abuse, toxic relationships, mentions of death, just overall scummy behavior.

Slight NSFW

Minors DNI

Zhongli

Honestly, out of the whole lot of them i think he’d be the most civil. Apart from his bad traits that is.

First of all I dont believe Zhongli would actively pursue a relationship, however he would be open to it, though the chances of it being a special “love at first sight” is practically zero. Hes lived thousands of years and seen humanity evolve as a whole, hes met millions of people over the years and peoples faces really arent that different, they just blur together at this point. So if we were to go by that logic, his love interest would have to be someone he interacts with on a day to day basis - or at the very least weekly.

If he was starting to develop an attachment to you, I believe he would also be fairly upfront about it, asking you out and courting you wouldn't be anything new, he’s had lovers before after all.

But this is where it starts to get a bit off-putting. Even if your relationship is sailing along fine, he’d still compare it to the others he’s had. Your taste in clothing, your choice of books, how you style your hair. Every now and again he’d utter something like “Ah ___ used to style their hair like that.” Or “Your eyes are so familiar, just like ___...” in which case the blank space is a previous lovers name. Not that he’d divulge that to you. Even if you ask him about the people he keeps mentioning he’d brush you off and change the subject. Though sometimes he forgets himself and calls you by a different name.

He would also never tell you he’s a God. And you wouldn’t find out either.

Hes hidden it from the whole of Liyue, why would you be any different? His role as Archon was over anyway so there would be no point to it.

So you would live your life never finding out about him, not ever truly reaching his heart, because his heart is already filled to the brim with memories, and whatever little space you occupy there would also fade along with your passing. You would have no children, for I truly believe that Zhongli just would not want children, his one and only child would remain Liyue, and your name would be uttered in passing, when he confuses his next lover with you.

Happy Ending?

Zhongli would still love you

He would cherish and comfort you

But there was nothing in this world more lonely than immortality.

He would love again but it would only repeat the cycle unless he truly comes to terms with himself.

It would take a lot of time, perhaps even an eternity, but I believe that his past relationships would actually help him realize something.

That even though humans were much the same he loved you all individually.

At the end of time he would recount each one of your names, in the hopes that you would take him with you, so that he could finally apologize.

Diluc

I honestly believe he just does not want a relationship. Not now anyway, not when hes 20+ years old. So the thought of him forming a crrush on you or any sort of real romantic attachment would also be pretty slim. He’d be your friend, sure, your best friend even, but when it comes to being your boyfriend? It wouldn’t be what you think it is.

If he does form a relationship with you its because you confessed, and you asked him whether or not he was willing to give it a go, and considering you already know each other so well he didn't really see a reason why not. Though it wasn't out of love that he’d agree.

I do believe that he’d still be a gentleman, he would send you flowers, and he would take you on walks, he would also give you gifts, but all of those were just out of courtesy. He was taught to behave like a gentleman, and so he would.

He would never be available, always working, always busy, never in a good mood. “Don't bother me, I'm busy.” He’d coldly order. And if you tried to do something nice to him like cook him a meal whilst he’s working he’d just tell you not to bother, the butler can make it better than you so why even try.

You would be a hitch in his schedule, an added task every day, another time consuming detail he had to take into consideration. But considering he was the one who agreed to the whole idea, he would simply have to deal with it.

As for intimacy, it would be rare. He’d kiss you just because he was curious how it would feel, he’d fuck you just because you asked him to, and sure he might have enjoyed it, you even said you enjoyed it, but it wouldn't become a regular thing between you two. He would come home exhausted, sore and half asleep, so on most days you can expect him to share simple words of greeting before he falls asleep.

If you got tired of it he would just let you go, both of you could see it wasn't working, so why bother try to fix it. You deserve better than him, a man that would love and cherish you, but right now, he simply cannot.

Those are your parting words, he wishes you luck and thanks you for your patience, whether or not you remain friends after that is really up to you.

Happy Ending?

What Diluc needs more than anyone else is time

Time to really heal

Time to forgive himself

Time to start loving the world again.

And I believe he would learn to do those things if time was given.

He would one day realize that his heart yearned for something other than day to day work, something that you tried to show him long ago.

He would fall in love eventually, perhaps not with you, but he would finally open his heart.

He would love earnestly and faithfully till the end of his days.

Kaeya

He’s well known as a flirt in Mondstat, he’s slept with people around town and chances are that’s how he first met you. Whether you slept with him or rejected him didn’t matter, what he was after was your looks after all.

He’d seduce you with praise and compliments, he’d lavish you with gifts and roses, as long as you give him something in return that is.

If you didn’t it wouldn’t really bother him much, he’d simply abandon the thought of you and turn his eyes on another pretty face, if you ever ask him about why he suddenly stopped he’d respond with “I don’t like wasting my time sweetheart.”

However if you give in to his seductions I believe he would eventually start enveloping the idea about being your boyfriend, the idea of you being his and him being yours was tempting for sure. It would take a while but he would also stop flirting so shamelessly with other people, he no longer saw a reason for it now that you were his after all.

But he would never truly yield his heart to you, always keeping secrets, always masking his emotions with sly words. I don’t think he’d ever really open up about his past or about the depths of his mind. But he would love you, and he would protect you, he would cherish you the only way he knew how, by keeping you in the dark, lest you regret your decision in loving him.

Happy ending?

His habits would change as he grows older

They would truly shift when he sees his first child in your arms.

He would cry, not even knowing why

He would fall so helplessly in love with the thought of a happy future and he would be terrified by it

But if you stay by his side, if you make him believe he can have a happy life and a future with you

He would give you the world, if only you make him believe those words.

Childe

Honestly the worst out of all of them.

Now, I firmly believe that he also would not pursue a romantic relationship if given a choice, but his heart is fickle and easily swayed by his own emotions, so when he sees you pop up every now and again he’d undoubtedly would act on his feelings.

He’d charm you, wine and dine you and treat you like a princess if you so wished. He would make sure you had everything you had ever wanted, he’d make promises of love and marriage, but after he gets what he wants, he would leave you.

Just like that, without a word, without a note, nothing. So when you see him after months of confusion, guilt and regret you would ask him why he had left, and all he would say is “What else did you expect?” He’s a Fatui after all, and he has no time for thoughts of tomorrow or promises for the future. His eyes would hold no warmth as he noted that the interaction was rather fair in his eyes, he had treated you like a princess after all.

He has no time to think of anyone else but his family and his duty to Tsaritsa, you were just a toy he liked playing with for a while till you got boring, now move before he breaks you.

Happy Ending?

Now I truly believe that there is someone out there for everyone

Even for someone like Childe

But that someone would have to be exceptional - someone with a commanding sense of self respect, someone with purpose and belief, someone with a fate of their own.

They wouldn't have to be a fighter or even an adventurer, but they would have to be a force of their own to be able to show Childe what kind of life he was truly living.

He knew he was in hell, but meeting someone like that would make it all the more apparent

But if they reached out their hand to him, if they gave him a chance.

He believed he would see a world in colors he never knew existed.

And he would love truly and openly, he would shed his heart to them and only them.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #childe #diluc #zhongli #kaeya #kaeya x you #zhongli x you #childe x you #diluc x you #genshin angst #tw

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pure-kirarin · 3 years

Text

Silvers Rayleigh x f! insecure reader (tw)

A/N: Please someone make gifs with young Rayleigh from today’s episode. I beg you. So okay, this is a young rayleigh x reader because the ep made me thirst for him... Enjoy :B LOVE YOURSELF everyone. Have some Rayleigh wisdom your way~

Warning: body dysmorphia / VERY sweet Rayleigh

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« I am sorry. I don't feel like it tonight. »

You say as you push Rayleigh gently away from you. You were sitting on his lap and things were taking a rather interesting turn. However, when his hand slid gently under your sweatshirt, you begun to feel self consciousness crawl into your head. The damn dark thoughts erupted in your brain like dark fog, stopping you from thinking straight.

Don't think. Don't think. Don't think.

You try to suppress the thoughts, of how unworthy you are to be with such a good-looking man. Of how disgusting and sorry you feel. Guilty for your own existence, sorry that he has to be with someone like you, as if he haven’t chose you, as if he didn't see the beauty within you.

All logic has left your destructive mind. A strong desire to run away and hide under the sheets stroke you. You refused opening up about this, you didn't want to seem like an annoyance or an unconfident little girl in front of him.

He was much older than you, much more experienced. He must have known all types of women. He could have any of them at the snap of his fingers. Why were you the one for him ? What was it that he saw in you ?

« -(Y/N), are you okay ? he frowns, taking off his hand immediately.

-I am sorry, I-I don't feel my best. »

You look away, you didn't want to see his handsome face, it only made you feel worse. You felt self-conscious, as if he had never touched you before. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your upper-body, muscles clenching. When you try to jerk away from his lap, his arm held you firmly, pulling you closer to him.

Irises in irises, your face was just a breath away from his. You were frightened that he might see the distress in your eyes and feel your insecurity. You weren't comfortable yet sharing that vulnerable side of you. He was good, too good, and you didn't want to show him that weakness. Your eyes sway back and forth, unsure where to look while his narrowed. His voice came, assertive.

-Anything you need to tell me ?

It wasn't really a question but rather an order. He knew something was wrong, you felt naked under his piercing gaze. There is no way to hide anything from a man like him. Your lips parted, trying to say something. You hesitated then just said ;

-Nothing. I'm just not in the mood.

-Don't lie to me, (Y/N). You can tell me anything. His voice was now nothing but a whisper. Trust me.

He puts a strand of hair behind your ear and says ;

-What's bothering my princess ?

That nickname out of his lips sounded like a magical spell, making you relax instantly, trust him more. You were the one he chose. Even in this moment, he considered you as his princess. You drown your head in his neck, unable to face him. Your hands start to play nervously with the fabric of his shirt.

Rayleigh started stroking your back gently, as if he was inviting you to open up and to drop the defenses. His steady breathing, delicate feel and distinct fragrance were soothing and pacifying your soul. You burried your nose in his blond locks, inhaling the fern and incense mix with every breath.

-You're too good for me...Rayleigh...I feel ugly and...Unworthy of you...I hate the way my body looks and feels...I feel so sorry that you have to be with me...

You couldn't help but feel some tears start pearling in the corner of your eyes, leaving wet areolas on flowery-printed shirt. You sighed and mumbled in an almost inaudible voice, full of shame ;

-These last days I just feel so terrible about myself. I feel trapped in this body. I don't like looking at it. I feel ashamed. I feel disgusted. I feel like I don't deserve to be loved, let alone loved by someone like you. You are strong...You say as you tug on the fabric of his shirt -You are handsome and you are popular around girls...What are you doing with someone like me, Rayleigh ?

As an answer to your soft sobs, Rayleigh can't help but laugh. No, it wasn't a mocking laugh at all. It was one of disbelief, an endearing one. He laughed like he was faced with a kid saying nonsense. Or more like he knew too well what you were feeling. Your cheeks were now flushed out of embarrassment. You didn't understand his reaction at first. Was he...Laughing at you ? You straighten out your neck now looking into his ebony orb.

He wipes out a tear off your cheek with his thumb and spoke ;

« -Sometimes I forget the age difference between us. But here you remind me of it. There is no need for you to feel this way, little fawn, you are stunning. Here. »

To your surprise, he gets up from the chair you were both sitting on. You hold on to him pretty tight so you don't fall, unsure about what he is about to do. He goes in front of the big mirror that was in the corner of his cabine. You reach out for the floor.

«-Take a good look. You are gorgeous. »

He positions himself behind you and envelops you in his arms. His lips start laying silky kisses on your skin, making you embarrassed. The sight made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable.

« -This is the girl I am in love with. Every part of you just drives me insane. You are a young woman, still blind to your own charm. So I need to show it to you. »

His reaction was unexpected and turned you into a blushing mess. He puts his hands on your shoulders ;

« I want you to look at yourself everyday and remember that you are in one hand, and that all the other women in the world are in another.

-Wow...Rayleigh... »

Your eyes widened and you felt your heart drop as he said these word in a voice so suave that it felt indecent. You didn't know that the man was so good with words. He caught you offgard.

«-Don't say such thiings. » You whine, hiding your face in embarrasment, turning around and hiding your face on his chest. « It's embarrassing. »

« Well, since you don't know your worth, I will have to remind you everyday till you never forget about it. »

#silvers rayleigh #rayleigh x reader #dark king rayleigh #young rayleigh #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #one piece imagine

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remmysbounty · 3 years

Note

ooo I'm very interested to see if you could combine secret relationship & there’s only one bed from the prompt list. Like maybe they're forced to share a bed but have to pretend this is like not exactly what they wanted to happen infront of others? I have no idea, you don't have to go with that if you have another idea or you could just go with one of the prompts I'm really not too fussy! :)

ooooo me likey this idea very much hehehe I hope you like this boo!!! also I might have gone just a touch overboard with this sooooooooo

also there’s some cursing in here but it’s not much, figured I’d let y’all know either way

hidden in plain sight // frankie morales x gn!reader

I’m going to kill them, you thought, I’m going to kill each of them especially-

Frankie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before bringing you closer to his chest. All you could continue to do was stare at the bed, stewing in your anger- and worry-, as Frankie started to kiss the back of your neck softly.

“Fish,” your whisper was soft but stern- a warning- both to him and you.

He whimpered slightly, much like a small dog who’d been hurt, but stepped away from you nonetheless. Neither one of you wanted to have that space between you but the second the two of you crossed that line from friends to something more you agreed to not breathe a word of these to the boys, at least for now.

The bed though, the bed that was clearly meant for two people- maybe even three, was a big glaring sign to you.

If the boys hadn’t already figured it out, they would definitely figure it out now, and you just didn’t want that.

Frankie unpacked next to you, only arms reach away, but you stood there frozen.

Knock knock

You jumped slightly and then turned to see Benny laughing at your fright. He got a middle finger in return, a response which Frankie could only chuckle at.

“You two going to be okay rooming together?” Benny looked from you to Frankie, checking to see that both of you were comfortable with the whole situation.

Of course you were, you already shared a bed with Frankie on a regular basis, but you couldn’t exactly say that to Benny.

“We’ll be fine Ben,” you smiled softly at him, “Don’t worry about me.”

Frankie finished putting his stuff in the dresser and turned to face Benny, “Same here man.”

“Good,” with another smile to the both of you he left only for his head to reappear a second later, “Food will be ready in a few.”

You knew he stayed close by, Santi most likely with him, as you finally got movement back in your own body. While you unpacked your things, which you then realized included some of Frankie’s stuff, Frankie relaxed on the bed, his eyes following your every move with a tenderness you knew he only reserved for you and his daughter.

“Stop it,” you practically whined as you felt the reel of Frankie’s stare. He reminded you of a puppy now, begging for a treat.

The smirk on his face told you he knew what he was doing, “Stop what?” His voice a rough whisper so as to not let the others catch on.

You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t stop the whine that escaped your lips, “Francisco.”

His eyes widened, and with an agility that only a former Special Forces operative would have, you found yourself crowded against the dresser, your hands automatically finding their place behind Frankie’s neck.

He stared at you. You stared right back.

He wanted to kiss you, he looked much like he did the first time you kissed... only this time he wasn’t hesitant because he was afraid of your reaction, no this time he was hesitant because he was afraid of their reaction.

He took a breath out, you took a breath in. But he couldn’t risk it, not now at least, and yet he continued to hold you.

“I wonder if we should tell them...” Your eyes no longer stared back at his as you posed the idea.

Frankie would have accepted. He wanted to tell the whole world about the two of you the second you kissed him back, but you wanted to keep it just between the two of you so Frankie would respect that.

He shook his head before resting his forehead against yours, “Just us,” there was a pause, “for now.”

You nodded, “Just us.”

Now if only you could get through the rest of this trip without revealing a single thing to the boys.

You walked back from dinner alone, and exhausted, but happy nonetheless that you’d succeeded through one meal.

5 more to go, you thought.

The boys hadn’t said a word when you’d left with a soft goodnight, your exhaustion was more than obvious, but the second you were out the door, they all turned to Frankie and started their teasing tirade over his feelings for you. But Frankie was ready for this, and not a single thing slipped through his lips.

——

You woke up the next day to the blaring of Frankie’s alarm, as well as something else, a whisper or several whispers. You were still too enveloped in sleep to even process what was being said, but you recognized the voices- there was Benny and Santi, and there was Will, and as you were about to snuggle deeper into Frankie’s chest you heard his voice.

“You’re gonna wake ‘Em up,” he grumbled as he tried to hide the way his fingers caressed your side softly, hopefully lulling you back to bed.

“I didn’t know you had it in you Fish,” Benny practically screamed, or at least it seemed like a scream to you.

You groaned, “What the hell are you idiots doing here so early?”

Frankie’s alarm continued to blare.

“It is way too early for this shit,” you tried to make yourself more comfortable as you finally realized that the boys were just watching you and Frankie in the bed.

All you wanted to do was get more sleep, and Frankie’s alarm still continued.

“Fish,” your words practically slurred as you felt yourself fall deeper into sleep’s embrace, “Alarm.”

There it was, the silence, and then once it was too deep for you to turn back you heard Will’s voice, “Fish, are you two sleeping together?”

——

None of them needed any words from Frankie. The second Will said those words, they knew his answer. If the way his eyes widened wasn’t an obvious response then it was the way his hold on you seemed to tighten, but either way they figured it out.

And that’s what you woke up to the second time. The boys peppering question after question Frankie’s way as he tried to force them out the door. He wanted to stay in bed, his body interlaced with yours, but instead he found himself pulled out the room by Santi, the door quickly closing behind him.

“We aren’t angry Fish,” Will’s voice was calm yet methodical, “we just want to know why you hadn’t told us.”

The voices had led you closer to the door and eventually you found your ear pressed against it, searching for more.

“We didn’t say anything because we wanted to just keep it between us-“ “But you two-“ “Pope we aren’t, well actually... it isn’t like that. I love ‘em and I’m hoping they feel the same way.”

Everything drifted away after that. Frankie loves you. Francisco Morales. He loves you.

You glared at the door as if it was the one thing stopping you from telling him then and there. But you knew Frankie, and you knew that if you were to tell him it had to be just the two of you. Then the voices slowly came to a stop and the door opened with Frankie slowly making his way.

His eyes landed on you and he opened his mouth to say something but you beat him to it, “I love you.”

He stared at you and stuttered slightly, “You heard-“ he pointed to the outside.

You nodded and slowly made your way over to him, your hands reaching for the first part they could grab before cupping his face, “I love you Francisco.”

You were determined to make him believe it, Frankie could see it on your face... but so was he. And suddenly he turned the both of you around, pressing you against the door before hoisting you up by your thighs, your feet and hands quickly linking together.

His lips pressed against yours. “I love you,” his lips met yours again, “I-“ one kiss, “love-“ another, “you.”

Your lips went to meet again when suddenly a bunch of banging was heard from the other side and then Santi’s voice was heard, “We’re happy for you two... really.... just try not to make too much noise alright, we aren’t prepared for that just yet.”

To say that you at least tried to be quiet was an understatement.

——

Tin Man: @captn-andor @thewayofthemandalorian @magpie-to-the-morning @magicrowiswritingstuff @booksmusicteaandanimals @dinthisisthe-wayson @littlemisspascal @din-damn-djarin @cleversturmhond @dincrypt @ohwaitimthewriter @poestardust @dindjarindiaries @dindja @dindjarinsghost @reluctant-mandalore @pascalpanic @princessxkenobi @smoldjarin @spideysimpossiblegirl

#remmys bounty #remmys writings #frankie morales x gn!reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier drabble #triple frontier #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier request #remmys requests

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otp-holic · 3 years

Text

The one place (where something happened) (A03)

“In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, where something happened, and then there are all the other places.” Alice Munro. (or the one where they receive a letter from a familiar name and we go into 4Ks of fluff around a lost afternoon in France)

4K. Lamely explicit at one point. Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Trigger for FLUFF as the main plot. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3)

This was supposed to be a manip with 200 words of bantering and it's now 4Ks of fluff with a few pictures. I've decided to leave them inside the cut because I feel they work better with its context there. I'm sorry for the hassle, but I really hope you give this a chance... unless you have cavities, only like fics with amazing plots or are allergic to shameless fluff.

Please do not repost the pictures, I know this is futile, but… I try :)

DAGUERROTYPE, France 1944 Private Collection.

Steve is cooling down from his very early run, enjoying the feeling of the pink sunrise looming over the awakening Brooklyn streets as he walks the last couple of blocks on the way home, when his phone beeps.

“Check your actual mailbox, we dropped something for you there. I think you should appreciate us making it old-fashioned just for you, grandpas!”

Steve smiles at Sam’s text and as soon as he arrives at their building he snaps a picture of the very common and flat envelope with “Barnes&Rogers” scribbled on top of a Stark Logo, to send along his response.

“Nice try, but this is inaccurate. A letter would have never made its way to us without an address or stamp. We’ll send you a proper thank you card to show you how it’s done.”

He can’t help but chuckle at his own joke rereading the text while he opens the door, and when he looks up from his phone and into the kitchen, he is received by a sleepy Bucky looking at the coffee machine like he looks at Steve during their most soft and embarrassingly cheesy moments.

“You love that thing more than you love me, confess it.”

“In the mornings? Yes. I don’t even like you in the mornings most of the time,” he answers matter of factly. “Want some?”

Steve playfully wiggles an eyebrow.

“No way. Your sweaty self is tempting, but coffee smells better. I might join you in the shower later.” Bucky offers him one of the two cups he has poured and he notices the envelope Steve is holding. “What is that?”

“We’ve got mail!” He hands it to Bucky. “I have no idea what's on it, but Sam texted me to say they had something delivered to our mailbox and there it was. Open it.”

Bucky leaves the cup on the counter, face sparked with a curiosity that makes him look twenty-one (and Steve weak on the knees), and goes for it.

The content is a bit underwhelming at first glance: Another envelope, white, no Stark logo, but topped with a bright green post-it with a note on Pepper’s script.

“This got to me via PR. We analyzed it and checked with the source (no peeking, I swear) and it seems legit. With that return address, it’s likely to arouse your interest. Love, P.”

Bucky tears off the post-it and the letter is revealed to be addressed to Steve Rogers at the Stark Tower, but it is when they turn it around when everything goes still for a second.

The return address is some street in Marseille, but what has Steve’s mouth dry and Bucky’s hand trembling just a bit is the combination of the place and the name written on top: Emmanuelle Jaques Dernier.

“Boom?”, Bucky says, trying to cut through their heavy hearts and taking Steve’s hand. It’s a terrible terrible joke, but Dernier would have loved it and he grins.

“That’s a terrible terrible joke,” Steve verbalizes, “but I think at least we’ve reached the same conclusion.”

“Elementary, my dear Steve,” Bucky answers as he opens the second envelope, only to reveal a folded letter and yet another envelope. “It’s a fucking vault of paper!”

Steve takes the letter from him, unfolds it, and quickly scans it (normal office paper, printed, hand-signed) before he starts reading it out loud to Bucky’s undivided attention.

“Dear Mr. Rogers,

My name is Emmanuelle Dernier and I am the great-grandson of Jaques Dernier of the Howling Commandos.

First, let me tell you that we all in our family grew up with amazing stories and praise for you, Sergeant Barnes, and the rest of the team. I never got to meet my great-grandfather or any of them (you), but I’ve always felt like I did.

In fact, that’s the ultimate reason behind this letter: I ached to honor him and I’ve been putting in order all his remaining letters, pictures, and memories so they don’t get lost forever, and there are many things I’m discovering through this journey. So many pictures and tiny details… and amongst them, you and the rest of the Commandos appear at the most random and memorable moments. Nothing that’s going to make it into history books, more like the stories my grandpa used to share with us over and over again, those important tidbits that make him more human.

Anyway, I was going through the pictures he kept when I came across some war photos that didn’t seem to match the 40s timeframe. Typical daguerreotypes from the 20s in a very bad state, probably taken with a camera from the era in 1944 and developed on a later date by somebody who clearly didn’t master the technique.

They were in a very bad state and hidden inside an envelope that said “Terribly drunk soldiers in France making idiots of ourselves in unique and creative ways. Fun evening, horrible hangover. About 20 miles west of the Maginot Line. Autumn ‘44”. I’m attaching a photocopy of that, I hope you can understand my decision to keep the original.

After restoring the daguerreotypes with some experts, all I got were five very bad pictures with silhouettes of people apparently having fun…. but there was one that got a lot better in the cleaning process that feels important somehow. I’m sending the original, as well as the restored version I got.

I, of course, don’t have the whole context, but I hope it brings back a good memory. My great-grandpa might be in the picture, but I don’t think this one belongs to my family or to a museum.

Thank you for your service, I really hope this letter finds its way to you.

E.Dernier.”

“I can’t believe… Steve, most days I’m convinced that day and that place are a figment of my imagination,” Bucky smiles, remembering. “When I think of a moment of pure joy during the war, I think about that afternoon in France, and it always feels unreal. A bubble of air and laughter while we were so surrounded by death.”

Steve nods, reminiscing about that warm and humid September morning when they arrived at yet another abandoned and destroyed little village, this one about twenty miles west of the Maginot Line. They had orders to lie low and wait for twenty-four hours before they started the maneuver to wipe another Hydra base off the map, and that little town was perfect for that.

Among bomb debris and fallen walls, they found one small building miraculously standing next to the remains of the church, so they decided to set camp under a roof for a change since the weather was being a little flickery with the rain, and they had the rare luxury of time.

The inside of the tiny house was as unusual as the outside: nothing was destroyed beyond being dusty and worn by time, and everything they found (furniture, kitchenware, and even fabrics) belonged more to Steve and Bucky’s early childhoods than to 1944, a living museum frozen in time.

Only it was not a museum, but the parish house left untouched and non-raided: old-fashioned clothes, outdated church books, yellowing clergy collars, and, of course, the wine cellar. Oh, that wine cellar… the havoc it unleashed.

“I remember the absolute excitement when Falsworth found all those bottles of old unscathed mass wine from the parish,” Steve brings his memory to words, looking at Bucky, “I’m still a little convinced that we are going to hell for drinking them.”

“Not for that, probably, but it was a wonder nobody died on the spot of wine poisoning, it tasted like sweet vinegar, ugh.”

“But it did his part, right? Took our minds off things; got us drunk, bold and silly.” Steve answers.

“Apparently not all of us,” Bucky says very seriously, looking at Steve.

“Technicalities… I got drunk by proxy. Seeing you all so happy made me giddy and tipsy, too.”

“I came and went… I remember being a little surprised at the clarity of my thoughts at some moments there when some of the guys were basically drooling on the floor. Now I understand, of course.”

Steve squeezes his hand, not much to be said there.

They were already way too drunk by the early afternoon, drinking to the sound of a sudden rainstorm pouring outside. All of them scattered across the small dusty living room and its adjoining kitchen while they went through all the bottles of wine they had been able to find. Cheering for the foregone priest every time somebody raised a glass, and laughing as if there were no ruins or war on the other side; just silly men (boys, really) laughing their hearts out.

“Earth to Steve… I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to see what the hell that envelope is hiding. Especially now that we know about its time stamp.”

“I’m sorry, me too! Gabe drunkenly handling that old camera and those glass plaques the way he did? I’m honestly impressed that he was able to take any pictures at all,” he muses. “Shit, is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“I’m gonna save us the bantering because I’m nervous, too,” Bucky answers in all sincerity. “Truth is, Steve, I remember everything about that day.”

It’s a new admission, a newly opened door for them because for some reason, they have never talked about that peaceful surreal afternoon, and Steve nods in recognition as he silently goes for the envelope one-handed, not wanting to let go of Bucky’s hand because his surface is way cooler than his wrenching insides. Maybe the picture is an overexposed french wall but maybe…

The photo he extracts from the envelope is clearly the original and damaged one Emmanuelle specified in his letter. Anybody else looking at it would see nothing beyond Dernier’s blurry profile, but since Steve and Bucky were there when this was taken, they know exactly what moment Steve is holding in his hand.

“Buck,…” is all Steve can say, struck by the blurry keepsake.

Later in the afternoon when they had already consumed most of the wine and there was not a single coherent thought left in the room, one of the guys took the parish books and besottedly announced that there was a wedding set for today… thirty years ago. Alcohol fueled a goofy idea that escalated at the speed of light, with Morita saying they were going to a wedding because they deserved a celebration, Dernier confessing that he had once considered becoming a priest, and Dum-dum bringing out all the old fashioned clothes from the wardrobe and deciding they were getting nice and clean for the festivities.

“That’s clearly Dernier in the picture killing it in his priest role, right?” Bucky says, half smiling and interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “You know, I went all-in with that fake wedding party. I was laughing to tears when I saw you put on that ridiculously long and ill-fitting jacket from the 10s, feeling weightless and silly for the first time since sailing off, and God knows we all deserved that. And it was all safe and light-hearted until fucking Morita decided you had to be the groom, and...”

“Were you jealous because I won the dashing groom competition?”

Steve’s attempt at a joke is weak, but there’s truth behind it: Morita chose Steve as the groom (“Cap, you are the most dashing and the least drunk”) to a chorus of excited voices cheering for him. Somebody else, most likely Dum-Dum, chose the rest of the roles (Sarge, best man duty; Jones, camera; Morita, keep the wine flowing; the rest of you, misbehave!) and in the blink of an eye, they were all going outside laughing under a light rain, and about to celebrate Steve’s fictional wedding to nobody.

“How could I be jealous?” Bucky cuts in. “Do you remember all you said to me that afternoon? During World War II and in front of a battalion of men?”

“I was drunk.”

“Fuck you!” Bucky disentangles his hand from Steve’s to use both of them to hold Steve’s face and kiss him with violence. “Tell me. Do you remember what you said?”

As if he could ever forget. He can recall every step he took from the house to the makeshift wedding spot amidst the trees where his best man (looking dapper even in that ludicrous jacket) was laughing along Dernier. He can still smell the petrichor, can still sense the blush coloring his cheeks while hoping nobody noticed and can still hear the beating of his heart when Bucky handed him a battered umbrella (“You don’t deserve to get rained on your wedding day, punk”) and a fucking ring made out his shoelaces (“You’ll have to buy something a little more permanent.”). And then…

“Dernier started the ceremony and he wanted to know if I had somebody in mind and I said ‘of course’.” He replays, his voice barely a whisper. “I said I’d had my eyes on a brown-haired Brooklynite since before I could remember. I said that I was pretty sure those blue eyes were set on mine too and that hopefully those eyes would be set enough to want to marry me even if I had never dared to ask.”

He’s been holding Bucky’s gaze the whole time, and he’s far from over yet, but he needs to fucking breathe before he goes on. Neither of them has moved a muscle for the past minute.

“Then he asked me to repeat the wedding vows after him and…”

“And you said Buck, right?”, Bucky interrupts, voice winded. “You fucking whispered I take you, Buck, as my lawful wedded husband till the end of the line. I heard, Steve. Even if the rest of the world didn’t, I did. But you never said anything, so I always deemed it impossible, a product of the corniest nook of my mind trying to outweigh all those bad things, because not even you could be as bold, reckless, and mushy as to do that,…it’s my fucking fault, I should have known better!”

“Not completely reckless, pal. I was scared shitless as I said those words, but what else could I do? You were right by my side about to put a ring on my finger as my “best man”, everyone, including you, supposedly drunk past recollection, and everybody else too far away to hear my whispers. It was such an easy choice in the end because truth should always win over fear. And those vows were. The truth.”

“You have always been too honest for your own good, Rogers,” Bucky is breathless and exasperated and goes for his mouth again, bringing in all he (they) couldn’t in 1944. “You destroyed me, Steve. My knees were as weak as a teenager’s in front of his first crush. I wanted to kiss you so badly when I heard you say all that there in the open… and I couldn’t even acknowledge it.”

“I know. And for what it's worth, I really thought you didn’t remember.”

It is too much. Is it normal to feel this much? Steve would blame it on the serum enhancements, but he was already overwhelmed at 16, so that’s clearly not the answer.

He craves, no, he needs touching, grounding, closer. Bucky. There’s too much space between them even if they are back to kissing like they would have that day in 44, and at any other time if their own lives wouldn’t have stolen those moments from them.

“It happened.” Bucky whimpers, biting on Steve’s lip who abandons his own stool to straddle him, both of them gasping in sync at the feeling of their cocks, hard against each other’s through their soft pants.

Bucky soon ups the stakes by carding his metal hand through Steve’s hair pulling his head backwards to help himself into that spot on his neck.

“Same two moles as when you were tiny, as when we were at that war... Your cute vampire bite. Favorite spot.” He licks on them with the tip of his tongue. Steve growls on cue and Bucky giggles. “Favorite chain reaction.”

“Buck, you cheater, you know what that does to me!” Steve cries out followed by Bucky’s evil chuckle.”Bed, couch, countertop,…I don’t care, but naked. Now. Stained pants due to heavy petting are too much of a trip down memory lane for me. Let me keep a bit of my dignity.”

Steve stands up liberating Bucky from his grip but aching at the loss of contact.

They are naked and making out in the middle of the kitchen in no time; Bucky steadily pushing him against the refrigerator while fiercely grinding against his crotch.

“Hey, ‘teve,” Bucky pants. “The way this is going, it’s my dignity now that's at risk. I don’t think I can make it further than the floor before I come.”

Steve groans into his mouth just at the thought and they start sliding to the floor the best they can until he’s a human blanket moving over Bucky. With no lube at hand, and no time, that’s their best option.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, his hands not leaving Bucky’s sweaty hair. Bucky’s hands on his ass, forcing their groins closer with one while he (almost absently) plays around his hole with the other, driving Steve crazy in the process. Dicks left to do their own thing through pressure and friction. Everything is working. And fast.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky exclaims “Can you promise me all this stuff with the letter was real and not a long-con plan to assure your fragile masculinity that I love you more than I love that espresso machine?”

That. That silly unfunny excuse of a joke that screams Bucky all over is what pushes Steve all the way over the edge. He fucking laughs as he comes making absolutely embarrassing sounds, pressing their foreheads and noses together until it hurts, and shaking from head to toe without stoping his pressure on the stupid and smug man under him. His lover. His partner. His unofficial husband. His best friend.

His Buck.

“There’s still too much blood in your brain if you can play that dirty,” Steve states, placing one hand between them grabbing Bucky’s hard cock. “Let’s see if I can do anything about it.”

“Your hand, usually so helpful, but I was already following you after that sound you make when you come and laugh at the same time, shit, it always goes straight to my dick, I’m,…” he keeps talking with difficulty between breaths and moans until he leaves his speech unfinished coming all over Steve’s fist.

They kiss on the lips breathing into each other before Steve rolls over. They are sticky and panting in silence, spread on their kitchen’s floor, Steve’s shoulders crushed between Bucky’s and the dishwasher. Domestic bliss at its most literal.

One lavish fuck and two showers later they reemerge into the kitchen in search of something to eat: Bucky is in charge of the food today, while Steve cleans the mess they left a couple of hours ago.

He’s decluttering the counter when their damaged picture laying there puts a smile on his face but also reminds him of the restored version presumably still waiting inside the disregarded letter, so he grabs the envelope to retrieve its contents: one photocopy (from Dernier’s original writing), and the promised photo.

And it is restored. Everything is clear where it was blurry before: Dernier (so deep into his priest impersonation that he’s not even looking at them), the trees, the battered umbrella, the ridiculous jackets… and them.

“You had the nerve to call me reckless and mushy, Buck?” Steve laughs as he stares at the picture where a very young Bucky is about to put a ring on his finger with the least subtle lovestruck expression he’s ever seen (“and it’s for you”, his brain proudly reminds him) “Wow, you might as well be kissing me there, anything would be more subtle than this!”

“Don’t shame me, you punk, especially not when you were the one responsible for breaking my brain back then!” Bucky answers coming from behind and stealing the picture from his hands to scrutinize it. Goofy grin and raging blush quickly taking over his face. “But you’re one to talk, Cap. You are gazing at that shoelace’s ring as if I were handing you a diamond tiara!”

Steve laughs softly at that and moves his right hand to his pocket, feeling the weight of the little compass he had retrieved earlier from one of his drawers. He used to carry it with him everywhere for comfort, but he has a better option now.

“Didn't you know that shoelaces are forever?” He asks, taking the compass out of his pocket and holding it in both hands as he opens it, nudging Bucky with his elbow to get his attention.

Bucky is confused for an instant while he looks at his young face staring at them from inside the little box. Of course he knew that (he made fun of Steve for days and days) but Steve detects the change in his expression when he notices the other thing.

“Wow, you gigantic sap,” Bucky says, taking the compass out of his hands to double-check he is seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. “You saved my shoelace.”

He had. While they were all celebrating his wedding under the rain dancing to no music, he quietly slipped the little string off his finger and tied it to the most secure place he had back then.

“It’s not a shoelace, you jerk, it’s a symbol. A declaration.” He laughs, stealing the compass back to safely pocket it again.

“You are delusional,” Bucky snorts, kissing the top of his head. But he’s widely smiling and lost in thought as he goes back to their sandwiches.

Steve stays on the spot enjoying the peace in their silent companionship, his focus on the latest news showing up on his phone, the text he’s writing to Sam and the comforting sounds of Bucky moving around the kitchen.

“You might have married me, but I never actually married you.” Bucky blurts out of the blue a bit later, sitting by his side as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and some grilled greens on it. “Do you want mayo with that?”

“Uh?” Steve forgets all about the news and the text and looks at Bucky in confusion.

“Mayo, do you want some?” Bucky repeats nonchalantly.

“No mayo, thank you; but I was actually more interested in the other part, you know, that thing about marriage?”

Bucky looks him in the eye: earnest, blushing and with the same look of smug adoration he had on the picture.

“Oh, that part.” He jokes. “You apparently married me in 1944, but I never married you back. And I would like to.”

“Marry me?” Steve asks and Bucky visibly nods.

“I’m sorry for throwing the idea at you like this, books tell me I'm supposed to have candles, music, and a ring, but you showed me that restored picture and I couldn't stop thinking about it, about proof,” Bucky speaks uncharacteristically slow and very softly, voice trembling here and there while he claps his hand with Steve’s finger by finger for reassurance and as a distraction. “A single photo had the power to transform a moment that existed just as a made-up happy place inside my mind into something tangible and real. Something that would be tangible and real for anybody getting a hold on it and looking at our stupid faces.”

“So stealthy,” Steve says, and they both laugh together.

“Proof, Steve. I was slicing tomatoes and thinking how there’s so much evidence, thousands of files! out there proving that all the stuff that fuels my nightmares were real, but nothing solid about this. Us.” Bucky stops for a moment collecting his thoughts, still smiling even with the heavy subject he just dropped into the mix. “Sorry, I believe I put more time into these sandwiches than into thinking this all the way through so I’m…”

“Take your time, we’ve gone from mayo to marriage to nightmares in five minutes so don’t worry, you have me hooked here.”

Steve makes Bucky laugh again as he intended, and he feels their calloused laced fingers immediately squeezing closer.

“It’s stupid because it doesn’t change anything for us but,.. I don’t fucking know, Steve, I think that picture has messed up with my mind! I instantly found comfort in the idea of people finding facts beyond the nightmares now or in the future. An easy to understand, universal and oversimplified proof of how much I loved you and how much I was loved in return.” Bucky takes a breath and stares at him sporting a million-watt smile. “Marrying you,… I would really love that. And for real this time.”

“Ok, Buck.” Steve instantly replies, eagerness winning over thoughtful and heartfelt declarations. He tightens the grip on their joined hands to drive them to his lips and seals the easiest answer he’s ever had to give.

And it's done!Sorry for the cavities, for going on with the fic when it should have ended and for ending it where it might have had to keep going. It was painful and fun. I'm free!

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encantosimpshey · 2 years

Text

❥ 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

OLIVE GREEN EYES scanned the letter in front of him in boredom. Beside him was a messy pile of opened envelopes and beside his desk was a chest overflowing with more shallow or exaggerated confessions.

The door clicked open and a fair woman entered. She had the same green eyes as the man. Her dress was a bright orange with yellow ruffles. A small cloud was hovering above her long, ginger hair she tied in a neat braid.

"Camilo mijo, have you picked someone yet? You've been here all day!" Pepa sighed, setting down the tray with a large bowl of chickpea stew.

For years, she had been bugging him to find someone to settle down with. She and Felix weren't getting any younger and at the age of 27, Camilo still didn't have a novia while everyone else had someone.

Isabela married at the age of 25, to a lovely musician named Carmen. Luisa was seeing a dashing, muscly hunk who delivered many, heavy sacks of foreign trades to their village. Dolores had three children already (and if you stare for a little longer, you would notice a small baby bump again), Mirabel is pregnant with her first child and Antonio has been dating around since he started high school.

Camilo was really the only one who was still single and Pepa grew impatient with each passing moment of idleness. Just yesterday, she shoved a whole chest of love letters, proposals and confessions in his face, telling him to at least consider one of the many fine ladies who already made the first move.

Camilo sighed in return, combing his long fingers through his curls. "I don't know, mami... All these are.. nice... but none of them interest me."

He gestured to the pile with a grimace. If he received the letters at a younger age, his ego would've inflated by the flattery women showered him with. But now he was older and felt he had better things to do than be cheesy with a person until the day he dies.

He was fine with his life right now. He had a happy family, a great job in the carpentry company his papá founded for the village, and an awesome group of amigos. What else could he need?

He's only really doing this to make his mami happy.

Pepa's eyes widened, "I saw some letters from guys too. If you want-"

"No no! It's not that I like guys, mami. It's just... I'm not interested. They all want to impress me with words. It's tiring to read through." He finished, tossing an unopened envelope on the stack of letters.

Curious, his mom picked it up and read it. As she read, Camilo fixed his desk and started eating. A shot of energy ran through his body as he ate his first bite. Now this was true love. Food.

Silence settled on the room for a few minutes as each minded their own business.

"Oh mijo! I think you'll like this one. She's straight to the point." Pepa smiled, sliding over the folded paper she kept rereading.

He made a face, upset she interrupted his eating. Setting down the spoon, he gingerly took the letter and opened it.

Surprisingly, it was very short, unlike the 2-3 page letters he had to read through a while ago.

Camilo Madrigal,

Greetings from town. I'm not so very good in writing letters, much less one for confession so please bear with me.

We met when I first came to your college to give my father his lunch. Since then, I would often pass by to exchange small talk with you and your friends during lunch. You intrigue me and I want to get to know you more. Write back when you can.

Eliana Pérez

He raised a brow. He remembered her. She was pretty, with long, silky black hair and big, gray eyes. But she was reserved. Talking only when spoken to and was content with listening to him and his friends talk and have playful banters when they met on the hallways.

Camilo wanted to decline, thinking about how awkward their interactions might become. But when his eye caught the chest full of more letters, he suddenly looked forward to writing back to the awkward girl.

If he considers her, he doesn't have to waste another day in his room, trying not to cringe from the "poetic" love letters, while his mami can be happy with the thought of him actively trying to do something about his love life. It's a win-win.

"Yeah. I'm ok with her." He smiled at his mom, taking note of the rainbow forming on top of her head.

translations :

• mijo ~ son • novia ~ girlfriend

click here to go to chapter 2 ! click here to go back to table of contents !

#encanto #camilo x oc #mirabel #luisa #dolores #pepa #felix #isabela #oc #romance #slow burn #fanfiction #madrigal #chapter 1 #your boyfriend's here #letters #confessions #x reader #camilo x reader

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takuyakistall · 4 years

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letters. | floyd leech

@loolabunnbai

length: 4.5k words

Taku's notes: I'm so sorry for the wait ! I enjoyed making this, fufu~

Huffing, you enclosed your letter inside the white envelope- 'To Jade Leech' you wrote, already feeling giddy and excited over his reply. The letter contained a long rant about your shared interest- mountains, the both of you exchanged letters enough to be called pen pals. It all started when you visited NRC to visit your friend who was in Octavinelle, getting in as an outsider wasn't easy- so you had to sneak in. You were unfortunate enough to run into him while sneaking in, all dressed up in hiking clothing. You were a mountain lover- just like him and you just couldn't help but get distracted. Commenting about his gear and asking him about where he was heading to, though Jade didn't let your questions divert his attention from the fact that you, an outsider, was sneaking into Night Raven College.

He almost exposed you to the school staff if it were not for the 'mushroom lover' badge on his bag and you acting quickly enough to mention a hidden cave you discovered a day ago- ever since that day, the both of you became pen pals and often went hiking together. That was three months ago; you just sent another letter to him about how you wanted to visit his school to finally meet his twin brother and the octopus he keeps on talking about in his letters. You just hoped that he could find a way for you to go in, after all- you did say that you were bringing in a rare specimen of fungi if that ever happened.

Jade had a small smile on his face as he opened the door to his shared room with Floyd, a letter in hand. Floyd perked up when he heard the doorknob turn, his twin brother having a gleeful expression on his face and his gaze fell on the letter in Jade's gloved hands. "Ne, Jade~ Is that another letter from your mountain buddy? You look really happy~" Floyd asked in his usual carefree tone, he'd been curious about his twin brother's pen pal ever since the very first letter arrived. "Ee, Floyd. It seems like they sent me another letter, fufu~" Jade neatly opened the letter, his hands scrambling to see the contents of the envelope. He unfolded it and skimmed the whole thing first before taking it all in.

His eyes fell on the words 'rare fungi' and he couldn't help but pay more attention to that part more than anything else. Floyd approached Jade from behind, wrapping an arm around his brother's neck to get a closer look at the letter. "Hehe~ What's this? Your little mountain buddy wants to visit NRC and meet me and Azul?" Floyd giggled, suddenly feeling excited about this whole situation. He was curious about this mountain buddy and it seemed like he was about to meet them. After all, Jade was willing to do anything to get his hands on those rare specimens. Letting in a guest into their school was nothing but a menial task to be completed for his mushrooms.

"Uwah~! So this is what it looks like inside your dorm!" You stared in awe at the aquarium just outside the Mostro Lounge, slowly taking in the sight as Jade guided you inside. You went inside the lounge, the jazz music, and the voices of the customers filling in your sense of hearing. Your eyes darted around, the scent of various dishes overwhelmed you as you walked further into the lounge. You continued to follow Jade, no questions asked, you were too busy taking everything in. Jade simply hummed in delight when he glanced at your awed expression.

Both of you came to a stop in front of a door and your eyes started to sparkle, were you going to meet the others now? You sucked in a breath, hyping yourself up for an energetic greeting. However when Jade opened the door for you, like a gentleman, you suddenly got tackled by someone- making you lose your balance and fall on your back. "Eh~? You're not Jade." You stared at the culprit, he looked exactly like Jade just with droopy eyes and the darker strand of hair was on the other side- opposite to Jade.

Jade chuckled, looking down at the both of you- that little…! Did he know about this? Is that why he let you go in first? The culprit was atop of you, his arms hung loosely around your neck. It seems like he was supposed to give Jade a hug, though you caught it in place of him. The culprit let out a dry sigh, getting off you as Jade helped you up, muttering a small apology for putting you in the spot. Though you doubt that he really meant it, he had that same smile on his face after all.

"Floyd! What did I tell you about doing that?" Another figure emerged from the door, he had purple hair and glasses- shorter than the other two. Floyd just let out a sigh, "Ahh~ I get it, I get it. No need to repeat it the second time." He whined, raising his arm up to sling it around Jade's neck. "Ne, Jade~ who's the little shrimp you got there?" Before Jade could answer his question, the bespectacled man quickly interfered with the conversation- "(Y/N) (L/N), correct? I'm Azul Ashengrotto, Octavinelle's Dorm Leader." He had this suspicious aura around him, something about his smile was off- you knew it deep inside your guts. "I've heard a lot about you from Jade." He added and you glanced at Jade- wondering about how much he's told them about you. You nodded in response to Azul.

"You're correct. That's my name," and you glanced at Floyd who was next to Jade. "and may I know the name of the one who tackled me?" Azul's smile never faltered, "That's Jade's twin brother, Floyd Leech. I'm terribly sorry for what he did earlier, he tends to be quite a handful."

You just smiled reluctantly, "A-Ah! No, it's okay." You felt a pair of eyes scanning you up and down, you turned around to see that it was Floyd- lazily leaning on Jade with an arm wrapped around his neck. You suddenly felt conscious, very conscious and you didn't like it one bit. Floyd was giving off bad vibes and you immediately knew that you should try to avoid him. "Then, shall we go inside for some tea-" Azul's invitation was cut off. "Dorm Leader Azul!" It was a fellow dorm member. Azul raised his eyebrows, signalling the random man to go on. "Th-This is bad! Someone is trying to cause a ruckus at the entrance!"

Azul could only let out a sigh, Jade chuckled while Floyd didn't look even the least interested. "Jade, Floyd. Come with me, let's take care of this matter." Jade put a hand to his chest, "Understood." While Floyd didn't even bother replying properly- "Ehh~ I'm not in the mood." Azul's grip on his cane tightened as he let out another sigh, 'It's one of his mood swings again, oh well.' he thought.

"Very well. Jade, let's handle this by ourselves. Floyd, keep Jade's guest company while we're away." Floyd didn't respond and you were just dumbfounded. Ruckus? You wondered what that might be but- you decided that it wasn't important for the time being. All you know is that you entered the room- that looked like an office, with the person that you just swore to avoid. Life was sure treating you well. You sat down on the velvet couch, not knowing what to do as you watched Floyd plop down across you on the other couch. Well, this was a bit awkward. The silence remained for a few minutes.

"Hey Shrimpy~?" Shrimpy? Was that your new name now? You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance.

"Excuse me, I have a na-"

"Eh~ whatever. Tell me, what's your relationship with Jade~?"

What was up with this guy!? He cut you off mid-sentence and didn't even bother apologizing. You clenched your fists, trying to keep your smile and keep calm in front of Floyd. Through gritted teeth, "That's none of your business." Floyd stared at you menacingly, you tensed up. He suddenly felt dangerous to you. He stood up from the couch, walking towards you as you suddenly back up- sliding further along the couch as Floyd kept on getting closer. "What do you think you're doing?"

Floyd didn't answer, he just continued walking towards you until he was only inches away from your face. "What did you say to me?" He asked you in a threatening tone- his mismatched eyes looking right towards your own. He took a hold of your wrist, squeezing it tightly and you wince- it hurts. Fear was rising inside of you and you couldn't help but tremble a bit, you didn't answer his question. He squeezed your wrist even tighter, you flinched. Before you could speak up, the door swung open- revealing Azul and Jade. Azul's eyes widened in surprise "Floyd! What do you think you're doing?"

With a click of his tongue, Floyd let go of your wrist and backed away- scratching the back of his head in frustration. Jade kept a straight face, he approached you and gently took a hold of the wrist Floyd took hostage. There was an evident red mark around it- shows how hard Floyd squeezed it. It was painful- yes, painful enough to the brink of tears. It felt like your wrist was about to snap, how was Floyd strong enough to be able to do that? Jade just let out a sigh and stood up to grab the first aid kit placed on a nearby shelf. He went back to you, treating your wrist and wrapping a bandage around it. "I apologize for my brother's behaviour. I shouldn't have left you alone with him." He actually looked regretful, it's rare for him to show such expression. "No, don't apologize. It isn't your fault." You shook your head and averted your gaze to Floyd instead, you lowered your voice and whispered to Jade. "It's him who should be apologizing."

That concluded your first visit.

The second visit was even more of a mess than the last- you thought that Floyd would be still as troublesome as the last time you saw him. However when you opened the door to the VIP room, where Jade told you to meet them, you didn't expect to see Floyd alone. He was leaning against the desk, his hands in his pockets. When he heard the doorknob turn, his head immediately snapped towards the door. He expected you, Jade and Azul cornered him to apologize- and that was he was going to do.

You froze, the unpleasant memories you had with him from the last visit suddenly flooding back. You were very tempted to slam the door just to turn around and run away. However you decided against it- you steeled yourself and entered the room, you didn't sit anywhere and just stood up. You felt like Floyd was going to try something and you were preparing yourself just in case you needed to run away. Floyd took a step closer to you, you took a step back. He took another step closer, and you took another step back- you were having none of this. The cycle continued on for about two more times before Floyd groaned, "Argh! Can't you just stay still for a moment!?" He told you before running towards you- you shrieked and ran away, going in circles around the room. It was a mouse and cat chase, and you definitely did not enjoy it one bit! You let out a painful cry when you suddenly hit your knee against the corner of the couch- you fell down on one knee and was unable to escape Floyd any longer. "Ah~ finally." He had this grin on his face, you could tell that he was about to do something.

He towered over your kneeling figure and you immediately got intimidated- Oh god, what was he going to do now? You didn't really expect his next words. "I'm sorry." He said in a normal tone, his gaze not meeting yours as he placed his hands in his pockets once again. Were you hearing that right? Floyd was apologizing? It shocked you to the core but the apology wasn't unwelcomed- you were willing to forgive him for last time. You were about to, until- "Jade told me to say sorry or else we're having mushrooms for a week." Ah, you should've expected this. Jade forced him to apologize, not surprising but- it's still very disappointing. You rubbed your knee as you stood up wobbly, an unnatural smile plastered on your face. "I see… so Jade forced you to apologize." You clenched your fists tightly in anger, "It seems like we won't be getting along that well, Floyd." You walked towards the door, swinging it open and ran outside- you heard no protests from Floyd.

"Argh! That stupid Floyd! I knew that we weren't suited well for each other but I didn't know he was going to be this bad!" You cried out, kicking over an empty can of juice you found by the hallway. It rolled all the way to the other side of the courtyard, you jogged over to retrieve it but you gasped when you saw where the can hit. It hit someone's eye, a bruise slowly forming around the victim's eye- he suddenly started to bark out orders to the men who were with him. "Grr-! Find out who did this! We'll make 'em pay for what they did!" The other men around him just grunted in response, taking out their magic pens- ready to attack. You felt your pulse quicken, you quickly hid behind the shrub that was conveniently placed in front of you.

You heard footsteps approach you and you sucked in a breath when someone grabbed your shoulder- "Aha! You're the culprit, aren't ya?" Judging from the colour of his armband- the one who caught you was from Savanaclaw. You didn't say anything and stared at the man, you didn't have your pen with you and you weren't ready to have a fistfight with almost 5 people with no help whatsoever. "Hey, answer me." He poked your shoulder harshly, you still stayed silent. The constant poking suddenly got stronger and stronger until it was a full-on shoving now, you stumbled back- falling on your bottom. You couldn't resist the urge to scream at the man now- "Hey-!!"

"Hey." A voice cut you off, you took a moment to glance at the person who just called out- it was Floyd. He had a smile plastered on his face as he suddenly started stretching his arms, "Don't go bullying poor Shrimpy over there~ Why don't you play with me instead?" The man who caught you froze in place, his expression perfectly capturing the essence of his fear. He scrambled away almost immediately, tripping over himself as he escaped. Floyd clicked his tongue, "Chicken." before helping you up. The man was scared away when Floyd appeared, what was up with that? Did Floyd have a bad reputation or something? If he did, it wouldn't be surprising in the least- not after your unpleasant first encounter with him. "Hey Shrimpy, are you okay?" The concern lacing his voice was surprising, though your thoughts didn't linger on that for too long when you questioned him about why he was here.

"I followed you." In a nonchalant tone, Floyd shrugged. You massage your temples as you tell yourself 'I should've expected this.' Though a huge part of you was thankful for his presence- it was a lifesaver. Had it not been for his actions, you would've probably ended up with a few bruises from the Savanaclaw student. Floyd stared at you, "Why didn't you fight back?" The serious tone of his voice caught you off guard, he was curious- and for once, you answered his question. "Do you think I could handle all of them if I picked a fight?" Sarcasm laced your voice as you dusted off the dirt on your clothes, fixing your hair in the process. "Besides, it's not like I wouldn't fight back. I was just about to explode before you made your grand appearance." You trailed off, aggressively looking away from Floyd as you continued. "Thanks for that, by the way. I appreciate it."

Floyd stared at you for a second or two before bursting into laughter, a smile on his face. You felt your face burn up from embarrassment and you couldn't help but walk away- though Floyd didn't allow you to. He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards him, swinging his arm around your neck- just like how he usually does with Jade. He leaned down to whisper to your ear, "Heh~ you're pretty interesting. I like you~" Before letting you go and going on his own way, leaving you as a flustered mess. You buried your face in your palms as various thoughts haunted your mind- "Ahhh, what does he mean by that?" Perhaps Floyd wasn't so bad after all. You were once again willing to get to know him better.

You composed yourself from your flustered state, fanning your face with your hand as you walked away from the courtyard. It was time for you to go back home- and you already knew deep inside that your next visit wasn't going to be peaceful as well. You did manage to catch the interest of Jade's twin brother after all, and a small part of you didn't really mind and looked forward to it. Ugh, what was wrong with you today?

Your head was filled with thoughts about Floyd- about what he did and what he said. Hell! He even started sending you letters in the past few weeks, his handwriting looked sloppy but it was still readable. He often talks about how his day goes in his letters and mentions a lot of unknown people to you such as 'goldfish' or 'crab'. Even though you didn't know of the people he's talking about, you enjoyed reading his letters just as much as you enjoy reading Jade's. Though lately, you found yourself looking forward to Floyd's letters more than Jade's- and that already says a lot. Your replies to his letters were often about your day too- and some small comments about his day and some of the questionable actions he did (according to his letter). You could still remember his first letter.

Shrimpy~!

It suddenly became boring here when you left, you should've stayed longer. Ah~ I completely forgot about squeezing you. I'll make sure to do it the next time you come back- speaking of that, hey~ come back soon m'kay? Goldfish shouted at me when I tried to squeeze him and even compared me to Jade, can't I just squeeze him? There's also Crab-kun running away from me again~ it's so funny to see his panicked expression hahahaha!

- Floyd <3

The nonsense contained in his letter and the sloppy handwriting made it hard for you to like it at first, some letters were flat out unreadable while some were really neat and fancy- you guessed that it was depending on his mood. The playfulness seeping through his letters got to you and you found yourself giggling at them, making small comments as you read through his letters. Floyd had a small habit of adding a lot of doodles in his letters- a goldfish, an eel, an emoticon, or whatever. He used it often and it was contagious. You started doodling in your letters more, sometimes adding a bit of colour if you felt creative and honestly, Floyd wasn't such a bad pen pal to have.

The exchange went on for about three or four months until Floyd suddenly mentioned something in his letters- he whined about how he wanted to see you. You were embarrassed, your heart rate going faster by the second and you couldn't help but just let out a muffled squeal. Floyd wanted to see you? Ah-!! You couldn't believe that you developed feelings of attachment and infatuation for him, especially because of your first meeting- it wasn't exactly pleasant. Though love truly is mysterious if you ended up liking him more than just a friend. You quickly wrote a response letter saying how your next visit was in a week or so and even added a small note at the bottom about how you wanted to see him too. It was a bold move, and you really didn't mind it if Floyd gets the message. In fact- you'd be elated if he did. Now visiting NRC was the only thing occupying your mind- you were excited.

"Jade~! Have you seen Shrimpy's letter? Shrimpy is coming over soon!" Floyd waved the letter in front of Jade's face, looking happier than he ever was this week. Jade just gently pushed the letter away from his face, "I know. Exciting, isn't it?" Jade was excited too, he wasn't just as excited as Floyd was. You mentioned that you found another cave near a mountain and asked Jade out on another mountain date to look for mushrooms. Jade was ready to talk to you for hours and he will do it. Nobody but you shared the same passion he held for mountains and mushrooms, that's why you were special to Jade. "Fufu~"

Floyd seemed to misunderstand a teeny tiny thing about the two of you- ever since your first meeting with him, he hasn't exactly gotten a clear answer as to what kind of relationship you held with Jade. So he just assumed that Jade liked you and you liked him back- he assumed that you were lovers because no one bothered to answer his question. Though after your second visit to NRC, he decided that he didn't care if you liked Jade or not- he was interested in you and he was about to whisk you away from Jade if he wanted to. Floyd didn't particularly care if Jade liked you or not- he was the more selfish one out of the two and it shows. Even if Jade liked you, there was no way in hell that he's just going to be stopped just because of that. This is Floyd we're talking about after all.

Floyd just grumbled under his breath as he lied down on his bed, reading your letter once more before flushing red when he finally saw your small note at the bottom. You wanted to see… him? Floyd couldn't help but grin, suddenly bursting with energy as he rolled on his bed- "Shrimpy is so cute~!"

Floyd didn't really think this through. He was overcome with jealousy when he saw Jade place a kiss on the back of your hand and how flustered you looked when he did that. He clenched his fist tightly as he walked away from the scene, "Tch." You saw him walk away in the corner of your eyes and you quickly followed suit. You caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder "Hey-" "Let go of me." The venom laced in his voice was strong enough to make you flinch in fear and immediately let go of his shoulder when you saw that look in his eye. It reminded you of your first meeting, he had the very same look in his eyes and that made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.

In anger, you stomped away to the courtyard once again. Why was he acting like that again!? Ugh, you didn't even know what you did wrong so why…? Numerous questions popped up inside your head as you tried your best to stay calm, "Why in the world did I like him in the first place…?" You muttered under your breath, calling yourself an idiot for falling for someone as problematic as him. It's only been a few months, your only source of interaction during those months were letters- you felt like absolute crap. You came all this way and he just got mad at you for unknown reasons.

You sat on a wooden bench placed near a pillar and wallowed in your own sadness as you tried to think of the reason why he got mad- Floyd was unpredictable, it made it even harder for you to pinpoint the exact reason. You were lost in your own thoughts when you felt a tap on your shoulder, jumping at the sudden contact. "Ah-!!" You almost screamed had it not been for the fact that the person covered your mouth with their hand.

You wanted to look at the one who was responsible for this but you couldn't- so you resorted into biting the perp's hand and was shocked when you heard the scream. "FLOYD!?" You wanted to apologize but it was his fault for using such suspicious methods! Could you really be blamed for biting his hand? "Shrimpy you-!" Floyd clutched the hand close to his chest, it was painful to say the least. Instead of lashing out at you, Floyd just let out a tired sigh and said, "Argh, nevermind that. Shrimpy, could you come closer for a second~?" His usual sing-song voice was back when he asked you to come closer- you raised an eyebrow in suspicion but you reluctantly agreed and walked closer.

You let out a small yelp when Floyd suddenly pulled you towards him, crashing his lips against yours. It started out rough, his sharp teeth grazing your lips as you tasted the metallic taste of blood. Good Lord, you didn't expect this- but it wasn't entirely unwelcome. Then the kiss suddenly turned gentle, Floyd calming down and just savouring the feeling of his own lips against yours. You pulled back, gasping as you desperately got oxygen back into your system. Your whole face was hot and dozens of things were flashing in your mind. Though Floyd's next words put an end to them all.

"I don't care if you like Jade, I like you and I'm stealing you away from him if I need to."

Your eyes widened from the shock, everything was slowly sinking in. The kiss, his confession- Hell! You were about to explode. Good riddance, Floyd really thought that there was something between you and Jade. Floyd liked you and that what mattered the most to you right now- you were racking your brain up for a response. "First of all- there's nothing going on between me and your brother. We're just really good friends. And secondly-" You grabbed his tie and pulled on it, making Floyd crane over his neck to look at you at such a small distance away. "I like you too."

おまけ！

"Wait a minute! So the reason you stormed off was because....?" You tilted your head in confusion as you tried to rack your brain up for the answer. Floyd flushed slightly, ruffling his own hair as he averted his eyes somewhere else. "It's nothing."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst writing #fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #your takoyaki has been served!#long post #octavinelle #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd #twisted wonderland floyd #twst floyd #floyd x reader #oneshot #damn this was rlly fun to write #i hope he's not too ooc-?#twst x reader #letter

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