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ptergwen · 3 years

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love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #spiderman #marvel #peter parker angst

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thrndlngs · 3 years

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three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.

── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character. also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties. ♡

"'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters ── which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship.

“shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department.

“we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning.

“──stop talking, it’s distracting me.”

your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter.

“they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.

“three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?

“──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”

“we haven’t played that since── “

“yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.”

you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?

“let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same.

it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.

you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight ── but there wasn’t really much you could do.

“two minutes.”

this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.

“i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.

“i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.

“──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”

“says the one whose sweating to death.”

“and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”

“yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.”

he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.”

in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.”

“are you serious?”

“oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”

“it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder.

“okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”

“mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart.

“now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.

ii.

“good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.

“──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”

“no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”

“is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”

he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”

“and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”

this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours ── regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him.

as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight?

“d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.

“only because you have food.”

he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different.

so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.

iii.

“i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well ── these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often.

“you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating.

“──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.

“because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him ── he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.

“if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”

“a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.”

“don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you ──

you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.

if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you ── stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him.

yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it?

but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it ── despite the ache in his chest.

iv.

"we did it.�� shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.

“pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different.

“try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.

“make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should.

he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.”

“it better stay that way ‘toshi.”

he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none.

he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.

“──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?

he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you.

you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.

“you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.”

you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”

#shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #bnha imagine #bnha drabble #mha drabble #mha imagine #shinsou tbt.#( this is so lame bc i wrote this at 1:43 am while at work JHADKJHDA )#╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ 𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐄 ┊ WRITINGS .

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silversatoru · 3 years

Note

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

#megumi angst #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #angst #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsukaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #this is sad i’m sorry

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facegodandwalkbackwards · 3 years

Text

I’ve decided that Renesmee is a trans boy <3

He figures it out in his fifties. Before then, he just figures he’s like his Mom, a little tom-boyish, a little butch. He’s not like other girls, he says. His Mom tells him that’s normal, she was like that, too. And if he feels a longing for the boys in his classes, well, that’s also normal, she says. Wanting someone is the first step to a happily ever after.

Renesmee thinks that sounds trite, but he’s young and doesn’t quite have the exact words to describe why he doesn’t like it. Why ‘happily ever after’ feels confining.

When he reaches his twenties--in real time, and not just in growth--he asks Benjamin about happily ever afters, because he knows his Mom is young, too, by their people’s standards. Benjamin has come to visit every now and then, not for them--he’s not especially attached to them--but because Jacob sometimes drives to Oregon or Idaho to meet up with him and have coffee. He tells Renesmee that they might be possible, but Amun thinks there’s really only ‘happy for now’s. He admits he feels that way, too, sometimes--that he wants to believe happy can be forever, but he knows some day Jacob will stop coming to meet him, and he, too, will die.

During the events of Breaking Dawn, Jacob told Benjamin why the wolves phase, and Benjamin--worried that his presence there might bring more pain--decided that if they were going to be friends, he would never come visit Jacob on his land. Renesmee wishes he could convince his own family to stay away, but ‘the weather’s just too good for us, there,’ he is told. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older. We can blend in with the humans easily there. Besides, we’re never there long enough to do any real damage.’

Except wasn’t he living proof of that being a lie?

His Mother doesn’t see it that way. ‘They weren’t forced to help us,’ she tells him. ‘Jacob, Leah, Seth--they wanted to help. They chose to.’ And he isn’t so sure that’s true, either, but arguing with his Mother never gets him anything productive. Especially when his Father always, always takes her side.

In his thirties, the family--the coven--wants to return to Forks. Renesmee says no, but is overruled by a vote. He goes along at first, but he doesn’t stay. Three nights into their arrival, the aging and grey-haired Taha Aki--Billy Black, as he’s known, now--comes to visit the house and all but begs them to leave.

Paul and Quil and Embry had just stopped being able to phase, he tells them. If you come back now--are you really going to make them go through this, again?

And Renesmee thinks that maybe his Mother will finally understand. They’re not supposed to be here. But Edward says they won’t stay long enough for it to matter--just three years. That’s all. And when Carlisle and Esme agree, Bella’s convinced.

He doesn’t make a decision right there; he can’t. He’s learned that Alice is too conniving for Renesmee to get past without careful planning.

That night, he leaves. The note, hastily scrawled, tells his family he’s going to live with the Denalis. There are phone calls and tears and accusations. How could he do this to his Mother? Doesn’t he understand how hard it is for them all, living somewhere they aren’t wanted? Doesn’t he understand that he’s still too young to get why he should just come home and ignore Billy? It doesn’t sway him one bit.

Tanya and Carmen try to convince him, themselves. Your family is just worried about you, they say. They just want you to have a good life. Don’t be too hard on them. He knows it costs them nothing to say that.

And he misses them, if he’s honest with himself. Nostalgia is a drug and he wonders and wonders if he made the right choice, but he thinks about the fear in Billy’s face and feels sure.

In those three years, he grows to resent the Denalis. Every conversation that isn’t about why he shouldn’t feel bad for the pack--for the people who killed Laurent (and nevermind that he was hunting on their land, nevermind that he broke the rules, first)--is about how much his family misses him. It’s maddening. Renesmee is mad.

It’s Garrett that gives him an out. You know, he tells Renesmee one cold winter night, days before the Cullens planned to come up north for a decade or so before beginning their standard rotation again, you don’t need a coven. It’s nice to have. They’re helpful if you’re in trouble. But there’s nothing so freeing as going solo, bound to nothing and no-one, going wherever you like as it strikes your fancy. Good way to avoid making decisions, he says, and the little smile tells Renesmee that it’s an invitation. Go, it means. I’ll take the blame for you.

Kate isn’t thrilled when she gets a call from Alice, frantic that Renesmee is gone--just gone, heading west? No--south, now. No--now he’s leapt into a river she doesn’t recognize and she can’t make out what direction he’s going in. Garrett’s been in trouble, before--he knows if he waits a few months, it’ll be fine.

The years on his own are more than Renesmee could ever have hoped for. They’re freeing and wild and beautiful. He hunts in forests and deserts and oceans, and learns how much he can love himself--and still, something feels off. A sour note in the song. Something not quite fitting.

At first, he imagines he’s lonely. He’d always been with his coven, after all, and maybe that’s just what loneliness feels like. Except even in cities, even in the busiest cities in the world, he feels out of step. It’s something deeper.

He grows to resent the name he was given; when he was younger, it had felt weird. Like he was the stand-in for the people whose names he held. Now, he wondered how much truth there may have been in that. When Renee had died, Bella had leaned on him so much, fretting and trying to care for Renesmee as she had once for Renee.

He thinks about being called EJ if he had been a boy, and what that would have meant when Jacob eventually became mortal again. He decides he hates that name, too--but it does feel closer.

Renesmee goes through names like seasons, circling around an answer, reaching ever closer to it and yet feeling so far removed.

It’s in Brazil that he finds it. He’d lost track of seasons and finds himself there in the middle of Pride, and he sees men with breasts. Men with soft faces. Men with scars and furred chests and socks stuffed into their pants. He sees men in the vibrancy of transness and falls in love.

Rio, he decides, is a much better name. Rio feels like home. Rio is learning that he can bind all he wants; his bones don’t bend like a human’s do, and it’s not like he needs to breathe. He experiments with hormones, different dosages, different types, things he’s stolen off supply trucks in the middle of the night. For a long time he thinks they won’t do anything, that he’s too vampiric to use them until one day he wakes up different.

For his best guess, the venom pushes on one side or another of absolutes. Rio thinks he’s built up enough testosterone that the venom corrected overnight. His chest aches and his thighs ache and his chin and throat hurt like he’d been punched hard enough to knock him out.

When he looks in the mirror, what looks back feels right. He’s no taller than he had been, before, but his face--there’s fur, there. A thick beard and mustache and sturdy eyebrows. He’s got fur on his chest where there once were breasts. He’s got straight and narrow hips, and hairy legs, and he cries because his body has never felt so much like home.

If he ever meets the Cullens, again, it’s long after he’s remade himself. There’s a vampire in Georgia, he’s heard, that has the power of granting shields, an echo of the forcefulness with which she protected others in life. He doesn’t need to do much to convince her to place one on him. They’re alike--so similar they could be family. She’s not so human as he is, but she knows what it is to want a different body.

Her shields are different that his Mother’s were. One moment, Alice can see him--the next, he’s gone.

Rio stays in Georgia for a while. It’s lively, there, and he enjoys the company. There’s no spark--no romance--just a desire for kinship. When Berta chooses to leave, he follows her. It’s not a coven; they’re not bound to each other. They split apart sometimes, come together again decades or centuries past. And Rio stays away from Forks.

And he is happy for now.

#twilight #renesmee #jacob black #edward cullen #bella swan #rio

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mint-yooxgi · 3 years

Text

Rumours - Yandere!Fuckboi!Lucas X Reader

Yandere AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Masturbation, this one is pretty sexual)

Pairing: Lucas X Reader

Words: 14,505

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Heyyo! After months of nothing I present... something!!! I know it’s not exactly the ficmas I promised, but here’s one of the fics I had planned for it! I’m pretty happy with the way this one turned out, he’s definitely not as intense as some of my other yanderes on my blog, but I like it. This one definitely turned out longer than I expected, so I really hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

There are always three rules he tells them before they fuck.

Number one: no leaving marks on his skin. He hates having to try and cover them up in front of you, or try and explain that they don’t mean anything to him. You never believe him, and the last thing he wants to do is to push you away any further than you already seem. Besides, the only one that he wants to mark his skin like that is you.

Number two: never say his name. It sounds wrong coming off of anyone else’s lips that aren’t yours in these situations. He usually pictures you the whole time anyways, and their voice just takes the fun out of everything. Besides, it only manages to pull him back to the reality that it’s not you with him. Yet.

Number three: do not fake anything. He doesn’t need them to pretend to be enjoying things in order to stroke his ego. No. He wants to know that he’s actually good at what he’s doing. That way he can do, and be, his best when he’s finally able to be with you. Knowing how to properly please someone and recognize their reactions is the first step, otherwise it would become annoying with how many times people would attempt to exaggerate their noises and reactions. He needs to know that when he finally gets to be with you after all of these others, that it will leave you breathless, desperate, and craving his touch.

Currently, he finds himself in one of these situations. One hand tangled in the hair of some girl who’s name he can’t remember as he fucks her from behind. He can feel her meeting his every thrust, and he can hear the whimpers she lets out into the pillow that her face is pressed into. He can tell she’ll never forget this, as he’s been the best fuck she’s had, she told him so herself.

For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to close his eyes. Picturing the same thing he does every time he finds himself in these situations. He envisions that you’re with him right now, and not some random girl he picked up at a party that night. He almost lets a groan slip passed his lips, but he bites them in order to contain it.

He always makes sure to keep as quiet as he can during these times, as he believes that you’re the only one deserving of hearing his sounds. Occasionally, a few do slip past his lips if he allows himself to fantasize about you for too long, but he’s gotten better at containing them around others for the time being.

With a loud cry of his name, he can feel her coming around him.

Immediately, he’s ripped out of his fantasy with you, stopping any and all of his movements. It’s deadly quiet in the room now, the only sounds coming from their deep breaths.

“What did I tell you?” His is voice low, full of frustration as he gets denied right before his own release.

“Fuck-“ she pants, “I’m sorry, I don’t know wh-“

He cuts her off, “get out.”

“What-“ her eyes widen as she pushes herself up onto her hands, feeling him pull out of her from behind.

“I said, get out!” His brows are furrowed in distaste as his voice echoes around the room.

Hurriedly, she scrambles off of the bed and grabs her clothes. She can tell he’s fuming as he stands there watching her flee after throwing her clothes on, dick still painfully hard and throbbing for release.

Hearing the click of his front door falling shut, he lets out a sigh. Running his fingers through his hair, Lucas tilts his head back and lets out a frustrated ‘fuck’. He was this close to finishing, and she had to go and break one of his rules, and while he was thinking of you, no less.

Stomping through his apartment, he quickly locks the front door, ensuring he has complete privacy, while also making sure that she can’t come storming back in. Not that she would, but he’d rather be safe. He’s had a few others do that even after they’ve broken his rules and he’s kicked them out, and he doesn’t want a repeat of those times.

Making it back to his room, he walks immediately into his adjacent bathroom to have a shower. He wants to wash this girl’s touch off of him, and besides, he does still want to finish.

Turning the water on, he waits for it to heat up slightly, and grabs a small bottle from underneath his sink. Stepping into the shower once the water is a decent temperature, he places the bottle he’s grabbed to the side, letting out another sigh as he allows the water to fall over his back. Running his fingers through his now wet hair, he lets out another sigh.

The first thing he does is grab the bottle he’s brought into the shower with him, opening it and allowing its familiar floral scent to fill his nostrils. It’s the same soap that you use, and he knows it’ll be able to comfort him right now.

He got lucky. One day in class he overheard you talking to your friend, Jordan, about this new soap you got from the store. Ever since, he’s noticed that that’s the scent you use, or at least, that’s what it smells like each time he manages to get close enough to you that he can faintly breath it in. Thus, the next time he went out, he made sure to grab a bottle. This way, he could use the soap for times like these, when he wants to be wrapped in your scent and feel a comfort only you can provide for him. It isn’t much, but it’s something.

How he wishes it could be you instead. You, who managed to captivate him the moment he first laid eyes upon you in first year. He managed to trip over his own two feet, making a fool of himself in front of you. However, instead of laughing like everyone else did, you came over to make sure he was okay. Granted, you did let out a few chuckles when he clumsily introduced himself, but he heard you call him cute, which only caused his ears to turn a vibrant shade of red in embarrassment.

If only Eunji hadn’t chosen that moment to come up to him and ask him about the night they shared over the weekend, and if anything was going to come out of it. He’s pretty sure he looked like a deer in headlights as she stood there looking expectantly at him, you shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly the whole while.

Unfortunately, your friend soon came running up to you to steer you clear of him. Jordan knew all too well about his building reputation around campus, having had another friend who had experienced it themselves. He had to sit through class overhearing Jordan tell you how bad he is, and how he’ll just fuck you and leave you hanging, because that’s what he does. Little did any of you know that he’d come to realize that he’d never do that to you. No, never you.

Since that day, he's tried to get closer to you to ask you out on a proper date, but circumstances never worked out in his favour. You would either be dragged away by Jordan, or whichever friend you’re with, or he would be interrupted again by someone else wanting to be more than just a one night stand to him. The worst few times were when he finally did manage to talk to you without interruption, only for you to point out the hickies that had been left on his neck. That caused him to start the no marking rule shortly after that incident.

Clenching his jaw, he lets the water wash the soap from his skin. This was supposed to be relaxing, but instead, thinking about all of his failed attempts at asking you out is only serving to make him more tense. He needs to distract himself, and fast.

Now, instead of focussing on the negative memories he has with you, he focusses on the positives. Like how just the other day, you met his gaze, only for your eyes to widen with the cutest expression on your face. Or how he overheard your laughter in the food court yesterday, your expression screaming nothing but pure joy. At that, he manages to crack a small smile, his heart warming in his chest at the thought of him being able to make you laugh and smile like that for him someday.

Fuck, how he just wants to kiss you. So badly he wishes you were here with him now, so he could press you up against the wall and make you see stars. He wants to know what your skin feels like beneath his fingertips, what your hands feel like gripping his hair, but especially, he wants to know what his name sounds like as you scream it for all to hear in ecstasy, letting everyone know that you’re his, and that only he can make you feel this good.

His thoughts, along with the smell of you that’s surrounding him during this time is enough to send him over the edge. He comes with a low moan of your name, eyes closed in bliss as he allows himself to indulge in his fantasies. At least he manages to come with a smile on his face, though he would have preferred opening his eyes to see you, instead of the grimy tiles of his shower once more.

Cleaning himself up quickly, he turns off the water. Grabbing a towel, he dries himself off before wrapping it around his waist and heading back out to his room. Checking his phone, he notices that it’s just past three in the morning.

Letting out another sigh as he pulls on some loose sweats, he hops back into bed. He’ll worry about changing the sheets tomorrow. After all, he does have work later, and he’s already been late the past two times in a row.

Later that day, he groggily makes his way into work. He just manages to make it on time so as not to get reamed out by his manager again, greeting his coworkers with a small wave. Although it isn’t much working at the coffee place on campus, he enjoys it, especially when he gets to work with his best friend, Jongin.

“Late night?” Jongin quirks a knowing eyebrow at Lucas as they both tie their aprons around their waists.

“You know it,” Lucas jokes, smirk evident on his face.

“Damn, another one?” Jongin teases.

“Had to kick her out,” Lucas shrugs.

“You really are heartless, man,” Jongin shakes his head, grin still on his lips as he moves over to take orders.

Lucas says nothing as he moves over to start making drinks for the customers. He notices a few regulars sitting in their usual places inside, and soon he’s busy preparing himself for the rush they usually get just after classes get let out in a few minutes. A few people come in just to see him, and everyone at the café knows it. He has this unique charisma with the clientele, especially the ladies, whom he enjoys casually flirting with. He guesses that’s also what adds on to his reputation, but he just thinks of it as practice for when he gets to finally make you shy from his flirtations towards you. To him, they all mean nothing when compared to you.

Occasionally, during rush, Lucas will loose himself in his work, humming along lowly to whatever song is playing as he calls out name after name. There have been a few times where people will purposely graze his hand as he hands them their drink, but he’s gotten used to it by now that he pays no mind. Again, it means nothing to him, though he wishes people would stop, and notice that he’s not interested.

He’s just finished making two iced caramel macchiatos when he finally takes notice of the name on the cups. Sure enough, looking up, he meets gazes with Jordan, though you’re nowhere in immediate sight. He notices their eyes narrow at him as he hands them the two drinks, thanking him curtly. Normally wherever Jordan is, you’re not far behind.

Eyes follow Jordan out of the café, Lucas now distracted as he attempts to find you. Sure enough, you’re standing just outside the door, waiting for Jordan as they approach you with your drinks. The smile he sees you wear after grabbing your drink makes his heart warm, for there’s a part of him that knows that you smiled because of him.

A small cry of pain escapes his lips as he drops the cup he’s holding. He clutches his now scalding hand in his free one, gritting his teeth as he moves to pick up the dropped cup. In his dazed state, he managed to pour steamed milk onto his hand, too distracted by watching you just through the window.

“Woah, Lucas, you okay, man?” His one coworker asks him, helping him clean up the mess.

“I’m good,” he gets out, tossing the now ruined drink into the garbage.

His coworker only shoots him another concerned glance before they get back to work, nothing but the faint sting of the burn on his hand serving as a reminder that you were smiling because of him only minutes ago. If only he could see you again, but you’re gone as soon as he looks back over to the spot which you were standing in before he spilt the drink.

The rest of his shift passes by slowly, the fatigue from the previous night catching up to him the more he has to deal with each rush that comes in. All he wants is to see you again, and spend more time with you, but he can’t.

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Jordan probably told you to wait outside for them while they got your drinks. Jordan is purposely making you avoid him, so he wouldn’t put it past them to do something like that. If only he would be so lucky as to serve you himself.

His eyes widen slightly as realization crosses his features. He now knows a drink order that you like. In all his months working at the café, you’ve rarely come in while he’s been working, so he’s never been able to flirt with you while making you a drink. Now that he knows you like iced caramel macchiatos, he can bring you some during class. Maybe that will show you how serious he is about you. Either way, he knows that the next time the two of you have class together, he’s bringing you a drink. Maybe he’ll even slip you his number if he gets a chance. Perhaps he’ll even write it on the cup.

A small grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he continues working. This plan is perfect. It most definitely can’t go wrong! He’ll show you, even in the most subtle a way as this, that he can take care of you. He can, and will, always provide for you anything you may ever want or need.

That evening once he gets home, he sets to cleaning his apartment. He’s decided that before anything else, he’s going to make his apartment look and smell nice. Who knows what might happen in the coming weeks, and if by chance you happen upon his home while it’s a mess, he’s be so embarrassed. All he wants to do is impress you, even in the most basic of ways.

He falls asleep that night to fresh sheets on his bad, clutching his pillow tightly to his chest and picturing that it’s you that he’s holding. He indulges in his fantasies as he tends to do with you, and imagines running his fingers through your hair as you fall asleep in his arms. In every sense, he wants you: to love, to cherish, to hold. Nothing could ever change that. He only wishes you were actually here.

Two days later, he prepares himself for what he’s about to do. Taking a deep breath, he clutches the cool drink tighter in his hand, allowing the feeling to ground him as he walks up to where you’re currently sitting before class starts with Jordan beside you.

“Hey, (Y/n),” he greets with a lopsided grin, “how’d you make out with the document analysis that was due yesterday?”

“Not too bad, I think,” you smile politely back at him as Jordan squeezes your thigh lightly underneath the table. “How’d you find it?”

He knows you’re probably just being polite at this point, since a few people have turned to stare, wanting to know if you’re going to fall for his ‘game’ or not. He nearly rolls his eyes at the thought. With you, it’s never a game, and it never would be. Jordan, on the other hand, might beg to differ.

“Glad I just got it done on time,” he shrugs casually.

Truth be told, he’s actually a fairly decent student, and this is his favourite class for two reasons. One, you’re in it, and he can sit close by to you for two hours every week. Two, he actually likes the material of the course. In fact, it’s one of his highest grades right now.

“Is there something we can help you with, Wong?” Jordan’s voice cuts in before he can get in another word.

“Actually, yeah,” Lucas smirks, eyes shining as he notices Jordan’s eyes shift suspiciously to the drink he’s been holding in his hand. Looking directly into your eyes, his expression softens into a smile, “I got this for you.”

Your own eyes widen as he places the coffee on the table beside your notes. Your heart warms at the gesture, but your words seem stuck in your throat for the time being. However, the longer you go just looking at Lucas with those wide eyes, the less confident he becomes.

Did he do the right thing? What if you don’t actually like this drink? Why do you keep staring at him with those eyes? Fuck, if his heart wasn’t racing before, it sure is hammering away in his chest now.

The whole time, questions race through your head as well. Jordan has told you countless times that he doesn’t care for anyone but himself, refusing to do anything for anyone. Jordan has you convinced that Lucas isn’t the kind of guy to just do something out of the goodness of his heart, for they’re sure he doesn’t have one. However, now, you’re not so sure if everything that Jordan has told you about him is true. Maybe he’s not so bad of a guy after all. Maybe he’s just misunderstood.

“I mean, uh-“ he stammers before your voice pulls him back to earth.

“Thanks, Lucas, that’s really sweet of you,” you smile at him, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt.

His heart skips a beat as he sees that genuine look of happiness on your face, finally directed at him. He feels as if his whole world has stopped, and it’s just the two of you now in the classroom. Nothing could pull him out of this feeling right now, and he can feel a small heat rising up his neck.

“It was nothing,” he tries to play it off cooly, and he just manages not to stutter over his words.

You’re about to say something else, until Jordan beats you to it, and he feels his momentary bliss shattering around him.

“Nice try, dickwad, but it’s not going to work,” they spit, and you watch his expression fall briefly before turning into one of annoyance. “She can’t be bought.”

Before Lucas can retaliate, the professor is walking into the classroom, preparing to begin the lecture. Instead, he ops to shoot a glare at Jordan, letting out an annoyed sigh as he moves to take his seat two rows behind the two of you. He can faintly hear the two of you arguing about him now, and he chooses to tune into that instead of whatever the professor is going to be drawling on about today.

“Jordan, I can’t believe you would say that, he’s just trying to be nice,” you scold, reaching for the drink before they smack your hand away.

“He just wants to get in your pants, (Y/n), and he’ll do whatever he can to seduce you in order to succeed,” they retort.

“I don’t know, this seemed pretty genuine to me,” you mumble as Jordan reaches for the drink instead.

“Think about it, hun,” they continue. “It’s a little creepy how not even two days ago I got us this exact drink at the school café, of which he was working at, and now he shows up to our only shared class with the same drink. Is that not suspicious to you?”

“Why can’t you just give him the benefit of the doubt,” you sigh. “Maybe he’s just trying to impress me?”

He smirks at this. You couldn’t have been more accurate if you tried.

“Well, if so, then do you think he remembered to use lactose free milk?” They counter. “If he cares that much, he should have remembered that one of the drinks was made with lactose free milk, considering he made them. It would have been a fifty-fifty chance on who would have needed that, so to be safe, if he was observant, he should have gotten it for you with that in mind.”

His expression falls. He didn’t even think of that. He was so out of it that day that he doesn’t even remember which milk he used for each. Lucas was too caught up in the thought of seeing you, and then actually catching you smiling, that he forgot all about that. Clenching his jaw, he curses himself.

“If he didn’t, it’s an honest mistake,” you say.

“I don’t know why you’re so intent on defending him, he’s not a good guy, (Y/n),” Jordan shakes their head as you frown slightly.

“I still feel bad,” you whisper. “He did get me a drink, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Just as you’re about to reach for it again, they smack your hand once more, “oh, no you don’t. You’ll literally die if you drink that.”

“Well, I don’t want it to go to waste,” you reiterate, frown more prominent now.

“Fine,” they sigh. “I’ll drink it then.”

“Okay,” you nod slowly, a small frown on your face as you watch as Jordan slides the cup closer to themselves.

The whole time, Lucas is fuming. Not only is he mad at himself for not remembering something as significant as making your drink properly, but he’s furious that your drink is now being consumed by Jordan. Though, he’s more upset around the circumstances that led to this, than you not actually drinking the coffee. The last thing he wants to do is be the reason for your discomfort in any situation.

He’s also upset about the fact that Jordan only seems to be pushing you away from him. From the sounds of things, you do want to give him a chance, and fuck, if the way you looked at him earlier was any indication how you felt towards him, he’d be right there to sweep you off of your feet in an instance. Maybe him and all his subtleties towards you are actually working. No matter, the next time he’ll just have to make sure to get your drink right, and make sure Jordan isn’t around to ruin things for him.

Except, he’s not expecting the rumour that arises within the next week, and once he hears Jongin telling him about it at work one day, he nearly drops his phone in the break room.

“What?” His voice comes out rushed, eyes wide as his lips part slightly in shock.

“Yeah! Apparently what’s been going around campus is that you’re trying to get in Jordan’s pants,” Jongin reiterates.

“How the fuck?” He trails off.

“I don’t know man, but rumour has it you bought them coffee last week,” Jongin shrugs.

“I didn’t buy them coffee,” he mutters, only causing Jongin to quirk a brow.

“Word on campus is that Jordan came in to the café last week, you stared at them the whole time while they left, longingly, apparently,” Jongin goes on to say, “and then showed up to your class two days later with that same drink they ordered for themselves.”

“Fuck me,” Lucas sighs. “The drink wasn’t meant for them, it was for (Y/n).”

Jongin frowns slightly until realization flashes in his eyes, “you mean that girl you’ve had a thing for since first year?”

A small nod is all the confirmation he gives.

“Welp,” Jongin stands up, clapping Lucas on the shoulder as he passes, “good luck, dude.”

Another sigh escapes Lucas’ lips as Jongin exits the break room. He’s not sure how exactly this rumour could have started, or who started it for this matter. However, it’s only going to serve as another obstacle for him to be with you. Hopefully, it doesn’t put too much of a damper on his plans.

Easier said than done.

The next two weeks is spent being conscious of his every move. He notices the way some people have been watching him around campus, especially when Jordan is around. It’s usually old flings of his, jealous that they mean nothing more to him than a one night stand. They’ll never mean anything more than a one night stand, either. During those times, he makes sure to never look their way. Only when you’re around does he dare a glance in their direction, but even then, he doesn’t hide the fact that it’s you that he’s looking at.

Part of him hopes a new rumour will spread that it’s actually you he’s interested in. At least then there’d be some truth to it, and he would be able to use it to his advantage. He can’t count the number of times he’s pictured you confronting him about his feelings in some secluded space, only for him to confess and the two of you end up kissing in the heat of the moment. His mind always wanders further, imagining pressing you up against the wall and taking you right then and there. He wants you, badly, and he’d be more than happily claim you as his own whenever, or wherever you wanted him to.

Resting his head in his hand, he zones out to the lecture. His gaze remains transfixed on your back as his mind plays one of these scenarios in his head. Oh, how you’d grip his hair and call out his name as he thrusts into you, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. How he’d claim your lips, over and over again, amongst other, more intimate parts of your body.

He licks his lips, getting lost in his haze of desire for you, and what could be. So much so, that when he shifts slightly in his seat, he can feel his semi-erect cock pressing against the material of his jeans. Letting out a low breath, he attempts to calm himself down. Thank goodness the break is starting now, so he can focus on fixing his problem, and not sit through the rest of class with a hard-on. The last thing he needs, or wants for that matter, is for someone to notice.

Rubbing at his face with his hands, he lets out a deep sigh. Shifting in his seat, he angles himself in a way that no one would be able to see what’s happening to him. Thank fuck he decided to sit beside the wall today. Not to mention he’s got the perfect angle of you, two rows down, as usual.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you let out a small squeal, successfully drawing the attention of those around you as well.

“Oh my god, Jordan, look,” you grin, smacking their arm lightly repeatedly.

“What is it? Geez,” they rub at the side of their head, “you’re gonna blow my brains out.”

“Sorry,” you reply sheepishly, before the grin is back on your face, “but look! Ten has silver hair this comeback!”

“Yeah, so?” They yawn, clearly disinterested in your rambling.

“So?” You scoff. “You know I have a thing for silver hair, it just looks so sexy. Especially on him.”

Jordan just chuckles in amusement, “I know, boo, I was just teasing you. I know you love light coloured hairstyles.”

“I do indeed,” you nod once, and that’s all the confirmation Lucas needs to start looking at hairdressers in the area to get his hair dyed.

He’s never given much thought to the colour of his hair before, always sticking with his natural hue over anything he might deem too risqué. However, he’d more than willingly make an exception just for you. If this means you seeing him in a more desirable light, he’ll do it in a heart beat. Besides, a change might do him some good.

Now, to look up this ‘Ten’ guy who has you practically drooling at your computer screen.

A quick search of this guy’s name pulls up quite a few pictures that have a frown pulling at Lucas’ features. What does this guy have that he doesn’t? Well, except for the fact that he’s an idol, and apparently has silver hair now.

The rest of class is spent with Lucas pouting slightly while looking up facts about this Ten guy that you apparently like so much. Maybe he can alter himself to be more desirable to you through some of this guy’s behaviours. First things first, he’ll start with his hair and see how it goes from there.

He can hardly believe he’s getting jealous over some idol whom you don’t even know. Lucas knows he has more of a chance with you than this Ten guy, but he can’t help but worry. What if his plan doesn’t work, and the two of you don’t actually end up together.

Immediately, he shakes his head to clear his thought. No. He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of you not ending up with him. He can’t see himself being happier with anyone else other than you, and he knows he can make you so happy, if you’d just let him. He’d do anything for you. Absolutely anything.

All too soon, class in ending, and he’s watching as you pack up your things before heading out of the classroom with Jordan in tow, the two of you still talking about this upcoming comeback. He makes sure to keep his distance while trailing behind the two of you, making sure he looks inconspicuous as he heads to his next class. He wants to hear as much as he can before leaving you for today, wanting to get a better gage on your interest in this Ten guy.

A sour expression resides on his face for the rest of the day. He doesn’t like the fact that this idol is getting all of you attention, and not him. Why can’t you ever focus on him?

Oh, that’s right. Jordan.

If it weren’t for that friend of yours, the two of you could have already been in a happy relationship. He huffs, now heading to the parking lot to head home after sitting through his last class of the day. Once he makes it to his car, he hops in and starts the engine, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror. In a few day’s time, he has his hair appointment, and hopefully by then, he’ll have thought of a way to get Jordan out of your life so that he can finally have you all to himself.

The rest of the week passes by fairly normally for him, and he’s happy with the way his hair has turned out. He got it cut, too, and it feels even softer to the touch. At least, that’s what his fling from last night told him.

The stress of the week caught up to him, and he had to relieve it somehow, so he felt it best to take out his frustrations on someone else. Needless to say, he was the best they’ve ever had, and they didn’t break any of his rules. He doesn’t think he’s ever went as hard as he did last night, picturing you the whole time. He couldn’t help himself, letting the events of the week affect him more than he wanted.

Again, he ended up kicking the girl out of his apartment before she could stay the night. Usually, he won’t let them, since he doesn’t want to deal with them when he wakes up. This gives him more time to think about you, and picture you wrapped in his arms instead of someone else who might want to talk about their feelings for him or some other shit like that. That’s a huge no for him. Again, unless it was actually you.

Making it into work the next day, he sighs. Saturdays on campus can usually be pretty slow, so he’s not looking forward to working all that much. In fact, the day ends up being so slow that a few people get sent home early, but unfortunately for him, he’s stuck here until close. Even Jongin heads out early, leaving Lucas to work with two of his other coworkers he doesn’t really talk to. At least he can hang out in the break room if it gets too slow.

About an hour before close, he’s stuck behind the counter by himself for a bit while his one coworker takes out the trash and the other is on their break. He knows he can call them out if he needs them, but he doubts they’ll get a rush this late in the evening.

A small sigh escapes his lips as he hears the door to the café swing open. His back is turned to the register as he finishes grabbing down a bag of coffee beans to refill the pot for the morning. As soon as he’s closed the cupboard and turned back around, he nearly drops the bag of coffee beans in his hands.

There you stand, in one of your oversized hoodies, with a friendly smile on your face. Most importantly, you’re alone.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, him blinking a few times in disbelief and managing to get out a measly little ‘hey’. Of which, he curses himself immediately afterwards. Is that really all he can get out when he’s finally alone in front of you?

“Hey there,” you giggle, and he swears it’s the cutest damn sound he’s ever heard, “you’ve changed your hair.”

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, nervous all of a sudden about what you think about it.

“I like it,” you smile softly. “Looks nice.”

He freezes for a moment, nearly forgetting how to breathe as he stares at you. Changing his hair was a success after all, and he loves knowing that you like what he did for you.

“Thanks,” he smiles back, before clearing his throat, and putting the bag down on the counter. “What can I get for you?”

You start telling him your order, but he’s already started punching it in. Luckily, it goes unnoticed by you, especially since he undercharges you for the change in milk. Again, no matter how subtle, he wants you to know that he’s always looking out for you, and will provide for you whenever and wherever he can.

After you pay, you move over to the end counter where you wait for your drink to be made. He takes this opportunity to talk to you, considering it’s just you and him right now, and he doesn’t know when he’ll ever get another opportunity like this again.

“So, how’ve you been?” He asks casually as he starts preparing your drink.

“Not too bad, midterms are kicking my ass, though,” you reply, tucking your phone into your pocket. “I’m definitely way too stressed for anything right now.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckles. “I feel like we’ve just started and we’re already halfway through the semester.”

“Right?” You voice, incredulously. “I feel like I hardly have time to relax anymore, and with our midterm that’s worth forty percent on Tuesday, I’m kinda freaking out.”

“I feel you,” he nods in agreement, now just waiting for the shot to brew to add to your drink. He has to stop himself from biting his lip. He knows a few ways to help you relax, but he doubts you’d let him try anything. Yet. “I’m sure you’ll do fine though, you’re really smart.”

You laugh slightly, “my intelligence is an illusion that hangs by a thin string attached to late night study session, and fuelled by coffee.”

He laughs at this, pouring the freshly brewed shot into the cup, “I take it that’s why you’re here so late on campus on a Saturday night?”

“Guilty,” you joke, reaching out to grab your now finished drink. “What about you? I didn’t take you for one to be working on a Saturday, let alone in the evening.”

Ever so slowly, he watches your fingers gently brush over the skin of his own, and he swears it’s like a jolt of electricity goes through him. Your touch is addictive, and now that he’s had a taste, he’s not sure if he could ever get enough.

He chuckles, “to be honest I enjoy spending most evenings in rather than going out.”

“I see,” you nod slightly with a small hum.

Sure that may have been a little white lie, but you don’t need to know. Besides, if he’s going to counter that image of him you have because of Jordan, he’ll do anything he has to to make you believe he’s actually good for you like he knows he is.

“Well, don’t wear yourself out,” he shoots you a smile, doing his best to contain the bliss filled look that wants to spread itself across his features at this interaction you’ve have together.

“Same goes for you,” you lift your drink in a mock ‘cheers’ motion. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I won’t,” he promises, smiling at the way you swirl your drink slightly to mix it before taking a sip. “You like it?”

“This is amazing,” you hum, “just what I needed.”

“Glad to be of service,” he grins, giving you a small salute with two of his fingers, causing you to giggle again. God, he could never grow tired of that sound. “So, do you have any plans for the evening?”

By now, he’s leaning against the counter, for you have yet to move and he wants to be as close as possible to you for as long as he possibly can, without being obvious of course. Besides, he’s enjoying talking with you, and he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

“Well, that chair over there,” you motion to a chair in the corner of the café, “is calling my name for the next,” you hum, checking your phone for the time, “forty minutes or so until you guys close, so…”

A small smile rests on his lips as he nods in understanding, “if you need anything, just call me over. I’d be happy to make you another one.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you tell him, smile back on your lips as you move over to the aforementioned chair.

Lucas watches as you place your drink onto the small table that rests in front of the chair, taking off your hoodie before sitting down and pulling out a book to read. He smiles to himself as he moves back over to the forgotten bag of coffee beans to continue where he left off.

Knowing you’re mere feet away from him makes him so unbelievably happy. He has to keep glancing up to check if you’re still there, and not some figment of his imagination. Even his coworkers have noticed a slight shift in his attitude when they both get back onto the floor, noting he looks more awake than before. He certainly seems happier, that’s for sure.

All too soon, it’s closing time, and he’s just finishing up wiping down the counters when his one coworker goes to let you know. Lucas bites his lip, noting that you appear to be dozing off in the chair anyways. His heart races in his chest, and holy fuck, could you get any cuter? He only wishes he could have been the one to walk you out of the café.

Some part of his brain wishes and hopes that by some miracle, you decided to wait for him to finish closing so he can walk with you to the bus stop. If he’s lucky, he could even offer to drive you home, one hand resting teasingly on your thigh while the other grips the steering wheel.

“Oh, it looks like she left her sweater here,” the voice of his coworker pulls him out of his thoughts.

He watches as his coworker quickly pops their head out of the door, seeing if they can spot you in the distance, but it looks like you’ve already left.

“Damn, that sucks,” they say, turning to look at Lucas. “You know her, right? Why don’t you give her back her hoodie the next time you see her in class or something?”

Without waiting for a response, his coworker throws him your hoodie, and fuck, does it ever smell like you. Clutching it to his chest, he nods slowly, the words finally registering in his brain.

His eyes widen slightly at what this means. He knows for a fact that he shouldn’t give you back your hoodie while in class, there’s way too many watchful eyes around. People might get the wrong idea. On the other hand, he has seen you wear this hoodie around a lot, meaning it’s probably important to you, so if he shows up with it, you might think of him as your Prince Charming coming to your rescues. On the other other hand, he now has a piece of you with him, no matter how insignificant it may be. One that he can keep all to himself.

No, he shouldn’t be thinking like this. If he wants to make you see him in a good light, the right thing to do would be give you back your hoodie as soon as possible. Setting his mind, he determines that he’ll give it back to you when he sees you on Tuesday for class. The sooner the better, and hey, maybe Jordan might stop insisting he’s a horrible person if he does this.

Soon enough, he finishes closing up shop with his coworkers for the evening and heads back home. Stepping through his door, he lets out a sigh. After clicking the locks into place, he’s kicking off his shoes and heading straight to his bedroom. He tosses your hoodie on his bed, figuring he’ll put it aside once he’s had a quick shower for the evening.

Once again, he finds himself using the same soap you use. Considering the evening he’s had, he thinks it fitting that he smell like you. He wishes nothing more than for you to be waiting for him in his bedroom in nothing but that hoodie when he comes out of the shower, but he knows that’s a fantasy too far away to even hope for at the moment. Still, his mind cannot help but wander to that vivid image as he dries himself off.

Shaking his head, he slips on some sweats, entering back into his room to see your hoodie exactly where he left it on his bed. He licks his lips, imagining your bare legs peaking out from beneath the hem, spread out on his bed and just begging for him to be between them.

This time, he blinks to clear the vision of you from his mind. Grabbing your hoodie, he tosses it to the side of his room where his desk chair sits, hearing it make contact and seeing it hanging off the edge in the next second. Turning off the lights, he hops into bed.

Turning on his phone, he decides to scroll through instagram to see if there’s been anything important he’s missed. His heart nearly skips a beat when he comes across a newly posted photo of yours, showing off your drink from that evening along with the book you were reading. The caption reads, ‘howdy stranger’ with a little heart attached at the end, and he can’t help but read more into this than you probably intended.

To anyone else, that caption might be referring to the book, of which you may not have read in a while, or even the drink. However, to him, it’s reminiscent of your conversation, and how the two of you might still be considered strangers to some. It’s a flirtatious callback to how you two know each other, but rarely talk. Tonight was that exception, where the two of you actually had a somewhat decent conversation without anyone interrupting or pulling you away from him. The fact that you included the drink he made for you in the photo only confirms that this post was about him, and him alone.

He bites his lip, immediately liking the photo to let you know that he’s seen it; he’s gotten your message and he’s more than willing to let you know that if you only say the word, the two of you wouldn’t have to be strangers for much longer. Briefly, his eyes dart to your sweater, of which he can fairly make out the outline of hanging off of his chair where he tossed it.

Lucas decides to scroll through the rest of your instagram, just lurking on your page so he can see you in every and any photo you have of yourself. He makes the executive decision to turn on your post notifications in that moment, not wanting to miss any more of your posts, especially when they’re about him.

He freezes. Maybe he should do this for all of your social media accounts he follows. The last thing he wants to do is miss a post that could be an indicator of your true feelings towards him. What if all this time you’ve been in love with him, too, and your only way of communicating this to him is through your posts?

Grabbing his one pillow, he shifts so that it’s now clutched in his arms, him squeezing it as a rush travels through his body. What if that’s it? Maybe, there’s a small chance that you feel the same, and all of his past things never meant anything to you, and you just act the way you do cause Jordan is always with you, watching your every move around him. Of course, you’d want him, how could you not?

Smiling to himself at this new revelation, his eyes flick over to your hoodie once more. He can practically hear it calling his name, for him to hold as if it were your own body. Without waiting another moment, he gets up, snatching the item of clothing from his chair before laying back down, arms now wrapped securely around the hoodie instead of his pillow.

Burying his nose into the fabric, he takes a deep breath. Fuck, it smells so good. You smell so good, that his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from this alone. The added scent from the soap he’s used just makes this all the more intense, and he really feels like you could be there with him.

Except, something’s still missing. Even as he continues to cradle your hoodie in his arms, it doesn’t seem quite right. That is, until his cheeks are flaring at the solution he comes up with.

Without thinking too much of it, or before he can change his mind, he’s sitting up quickly, and grabbing his previously discarded pillow. Moving the hoodie slightly, he puts it on the pillow, having it act as your torso for the time being. There, at least now there’s something more substantial to hold onto.

A smile tugs at his features as he clutches the pillow, which is now wearing your hoodie, to his chest. He can feel his naked torso burning wherever his skin makes contact with the fabric, imagining it’s really your touch there. He’s even gone so far as to toss the one sleeve over his side to act as your arm, as if you were really there holding him just as he is holding you.

Burying his face into the side of the shoulder, he takes another deep breath, grip tightening around your ‘torso’ as he lets out a low groan. His fingers fist the back of your hoodie, whole body curling around the pillow as he clings to it for dear life. Why can’t you just be here with him, right here, right now?

Would you run your fingers through his hair just like how he so badly wants to do to you? Would you teasingly litter kisses along his bare chest and neck, only to pull away and giggle at the reactions he gives you? Would you pull him closer as he cups your face and kisses you with all the passion he can muster, letting you know how much he loves and cherishes you? He bets his name would sound even sweeter than he could ever imagine falling from your lips, especially as he trails kisses down your own torso, leaving marks all the way so everyone can know that you’re his.

He bites his lip as he feels his cock throb in his pants, pure desire for you coursing through his veins as he lets his imagination run wild, and now that he has your sweater to hold onto, it’s like you’re really there with him.

Before he knows it, he finds himself grinding into the pillow, imagining it’s you, and that you’re grinding right back, desperate for his touch. Fuck, the way you would mewl with his hands all over your body, head thrown back as he gives you uninterrupted pleasure in every way he knows how.

Thoughts continue running through his head as he brings his one hand down to stroke himself over his sweats. Are you actually more on the quiet side? Are you more shy when you’re in bed? Would he be able to fluster you like he knows you could fluster him? Would you be loud for him if he asked?

A small huff of air escapes him as he turns on his back, finally sticking his hand down his pants to grasp his firm cock, stroking lightly all the while picturing it’s you doing this to him. No matter, he’d make you loud for him. He’d make sure you’ll scream from the pleasure he’s giving you. After all, his job wouldn’t be done until the only thing you remember is his name.

Licking his lips, he gently teases the head of his cock, spreading his precome with his thumb as his hand continues to stroke the rest of him, alternating his grip all the while. Throwing his head back, he lets out a low moan, followed by a curse. Your name sounds like heaven falling from his lips, and he only wishes you were around to hear just how good the mere thought of you is making him feel.

Closing his eyes, he lets images of you sucking him off fill his head. The way your lips would wrap around his cock, taking all of him into your mouth as he encourages you and holds your hair in his hand, ever so subtly guiding your movements. Fuck, the way you would hum around him, wanting to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

He builds himself up slowly, wanting to take his time tonight and just live in his fantasies. Being able to hold your sweater in his hands is just the icing on top, letting him feel like it’s actually you there with him. After edging himself three times, he decides it’s finally time for him to come, and he knows exactly how he wants to do so.

Kicking off his pants, he shifts his body so that his pillow with your sweater on it is beneath his chest. He licks his lips, inhaling deeply with his eyes closed, allowing your image and your scent to fill his mind. One arm is wrapped around the torso of the sweater while he begins to fuck his opposite hand, starting slowly, just like how he would with you once he’s finally inside you.

For your first time together, he’d take it slow, making love to your gorgeous body all night long. He wants you to know that you’re more than just a fuck, and that he would never even think about doing something as intimate as this with another. Only you get this type of intimacy. Only you get the whispers of ‘I love you’ and the breathless moans of your name from his lips. Only you get all of him: mind, body, and soul.

Holding the pillow tighter, he begins to pick up his pace, rolling his hips into his hand as he pictures your legs wrapped around his waist. Every second that passes brings him closer to the edge, and he can feel his hips stuttering as his orgasm approaches.

Sitting back on his knees, he releases the pillow, stroking himself intensely all the while. With a low moan, he’s coming, your name falling from his lips like a mantra as he releases all over your sweater, claiming it as his own, just as he so badly wants to claim you.

For a whole minute, he just kneels there, eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy. He bites his lip, bringing his free hand up to brush his hair out of his face. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see the mess he’s made of your sweater.

Cursing lowly to himself, his eyes go wide. Well, now there’s no way he’s going to give you back your sweater with it looking like this. He’ll have to wash it before giving it back, if he even decides to do that. Now that he knows what he can do with it, it’s like having his very own body pillow of you, and he doesn’t want to give that up so easily.

Moving off his bed, he cleans up quickly before sliding on a fresh pair of sweats. Once he’s finished, he slides back into bed, scrolling through his phone with his arm around the sweater, the pillow tucked to his chest. He has to find a way to be with you soon, and maybe next time, he’ll make this dream of his a reality.

That night, he falls asleep with a smile on his face, head filled with images of you and what he dreams your future relationship to be like once you’re together. He cannot wait for the day he can finally call you his in front of the whole world, and hopefully it’s soon; he just wants you so badly.

Midterms come and go in the blink of an eye, and before anyone knows it, the professor is assigning the final project. Lucas lets out a small sigh as the prof drawls on about the details during class, gaze zoned in on you once more until a certain phrase catches his ear.

“You’ll be working in partners-“ a chatter breaks out around the lecture hall before the prof grabs everyone’s attention once more. “As I was saying, you’ll be working in partners for the final assignment, but no you will not be working with a partner you choose. You will be receiving an email by the end of the day with your partner’s details for the upcoming project. I expect everyone to work diligently and thoroughly. Class dismissed.”

With that there’s an explosion of chatter and movement throughout as people begin to gather their things to leave the room. Lucas’ heart pounds in his chest the whole while, and he knows he won’t be so lucky as to get you, but he can only hope that’s the case. He just hopes that whoever he gets stuck with isn’t one of his past flings. That would be awkward as hell.

Again, he sticks close by you as you exit the hall with Jordan, discussing the possibilities of the project. He busies himself with checking his phone to make himself look occupied and not like he’s eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Who do you hope you get to work with?” Jordan asks you.

“I’m not sure, I know I probably won’t be as lucky as to get to work with you, but I hope there’s still a chance!” You reply, lip tugging upwards. “If not, the only other person I really know in the class is Lucas, so I guess he wouldn’t be so bad.”

His heart nearly stops when he hears you say those words. Maybe there’s a possibility that you really want to work with him, too.

“Ew, why do you want to work with that fuckwad?” Jordan scrunches their face in disgust.

“He doesn’t seem so bad,” you frown slightly. “Besides, I think he does well in this class, whenever I see him he’s always intently looking at his computer, taking notes.”

You’ve looked for him while in class before? His heart skips a beat. How has he never noticed?

“(Y/n), how many times have I told you to stay away from him? He’s bad news,” Jordan sighs.

“I know, Jor, I know,” you echo their sigh. “I just, don’t see what you mean. He’s only ever been nothing but decent to me.”

“Have you ever thought that there was a reason for that?” They quirk a brow.

Yeah, he’s in love with you, and he’d shout it from the rooftops if he ever got the opportunity.

“Well, regardless, he hasn’t given me a reason to be suspicious of him,” you retort.

“(Y/n), he literally has, or well, had, a Hitlist for this school. Almost every girl, and some guys have slept with him,” they tell you.

“Who he sleeps with, or has slept with is none of my business,” you glance at them out of the corner of your eyes. “I don’t care, and neither should you.”

“Listen, I really don’t care for him, or how many people he sleeps with,” they begin, “it’s the way he goes about it and treats them afterwards that has me peeved.”

“Again, that’s his business,” you say, and in the next moment a teasing smirk crosses your features. “Besides, sounds to me that someone is a bit jealous that they’re not one of his ‘hits’ as you’ve so put it.”

At this, they splutter, “what! That’s insane, I do not even like him!”

“Well, rumour has it that he likes you,” you continue with your teasing, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at them.

“Rumours are just rumours,” they counter with a grumble, and you hum.

“Fair enough-“

That’s all he can hear until the two of you are too far away from him to comprehend what you’re saying. Letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he leans against the wall. The biggest thing he takes away from this conversation is that you would, in fact, enjoy being his partner for this project, and he’ll make that happen no matter what. It’s a good thing your professor has office hours immediately after class, and it’s a good thing that Lucas just so happens to be his favourite student in that class.

Four hours later and he’s pacing in his room, just waiting for his phone to ping with the email notification. It’s already ten minutes passed when the professor told him that he’d have all the emails sent out by in order to contact the project members. What if the prof went back on his word?

A ping is what pulls Lucas out of his thoughts, him literally jumping onto his bed to grab his phone as he sees the email notification pop up with the subject discussing the partners for the project. His heart pounds as he opens the email, seeing that the prof came through and indeed put the two of you together like he asked. Who knew pleading his case to really support his ‘friend’ would have worked as well as it did.

All he’s gotten is your school email address, and he wants to send you an email to discuss the project right away, but he also doesn’t want to seem too eager. Should he wait for you to respond first? Maybe he should just take the initiative and send you his number so you two can start talking right away. However, before he can even open up a new draft, his inbox pings once more with a new email.

From: (Y/n)

Subject: Project

Hey Lucas!

I’m so glad to be partnered with you, it’s nice to be able to work with someone I know. Anyways, here’s my number, text me anytime and we can discuss the project in detail, I’m more active through text than email. I look forward to working with you!

(Xxx)-xxx-xxxx

(Y/n) :)

His head is reeling, and he has to read over your email several times to make sure that it’s real. You’re glad to be his partner. He can’t help his heart from racing the way it does as he saves your contact information, opening a new message thread and preparing to text you.

Staring at the blinking cursor in the message bar, he freezes. What should he say? Probably something simple, he doesn’t want to make himself sound too eager. Plus, he wants you to think he’s cool, but also smart, but also available, but not desperate. God, what should he say?

After contemplating for a good five minutes, he settles on, “Hey (Y/n), it’s Lucas. I look forward to working with you, too :)”.

Surprisingly, you get back to him pretty quickly, and the two of you start talking about the project and some ideas you’ve had so far. Before you know it, the two of you are having a pretty decent conversation about your likes and dislikes, things along those lines.

Lucas could not be happier than he is in this moment. He’s even brought your sweater back out for this occasion, holding it close to his chest as he reads over your entire conversation. You went to sleep a little while ago since it did end up getting quite late, but he can’t believe this has happened. Everything is falling into place, and soon, he’ll be able to make his move.

The next day, he has the closing shift at work with one of his co-workers that he closed with on Saturday. Again, it’s about an hour before close, and quiet, so he sets to cleaning the machines.

“Did you manage to give your friend back her sweater?” The question catches him off guard, causing him to freeze slightly before continuing to wipe down the machines. Maybe this question is a blessing in disguise, for he can put his plan that he’s been thinking about into motion finally.

“No, actually,” he turns to meet his co-worker’s eyes. “I ran into her friend Jordan and gave it to them to give to her.”

“Ah, I see,” they nod, going over to grab more cups from the backroom. Once they come back out, they turn to Lucas once more, “do you mind taking out the trash?”

“Sure,” he nods. He’s got nothing better to do anyways.

It takes him about ten minutes to run the garbage, and an extra five to dismiss an old fling of his who had spotted him walking back to the café. By the time he gets back, he’s slightly tense from the whole ordeal, and he can’t wait to get home so he can ask you about your day. He’s made it his goal to at least message you one small thing per day that he thinks will make you smile. He wants to show you that he cares, and that he’ll always be there for you, whenever you need him.

“Oh, hey, you just missed your friend,” his co-worker tells him once he gets back behind the counter. “She came by asking about her sweater and also asked about you. I told her you gave it to that other friend of hers.”

“Oh,” his eyes widen ever so slightly, nodding in understanding.

Besides being upset at the fact that he missed you stopping by, the fact that you asked about him sets his heart soaring. This is good! This is indeed very good for him. This means you’re thinking about him, even when he’s not around, something he could have only hoped for.

That night, he sends you a text when he gets home, heart beating nervously as he waits for your response. Once he hears that familiar ping, he’s smiling to himself, happy at how quickly you respond to him. You don’t keep him waiting long, just as he would never intentionally do so to you.

Lucas: Hey, heard I just missed you at the café this evening.

You: Yeah! I just wanted to pop in and say hi, and also ask about my sweater. I seemed to have misplaced it, and when I went to check the lost and found on campus they said they hadn’t had anyone drop it off so I’ve been retracing my steps lol

Lucas: Damn, now I’m really sorry I missed you, I could have told you that I gave it to Jordan for safe keeping

You: Yeah, that’s what your coworker told me, but they haven’t given it back to me yet. Sucks cause it’s my favourite sweater

Lucas: Damn, yeah, that does suck. Hopefully they return it soon

He looks over to the hoodie resting on his bed, still wrapped around his pillow. He really should wash it soon, he got another stain on it recently.

His eyes widen as he thinks up a small safety measure just incase you’re over one day and find your sweater. Good thing it’s oversized.

Lucas: I have one that’s pretty similar, so if you aren’t able to get yours back you can always borrow mine lol

You: Lmaoo thanks, I’ll keep that in mind

Letting out a sigh, he shakes his head. He doesn’t particularly like the fact that he’s technically breaking your trust right now, and he has no clue what you’d do if you ever found out he lied to you, but he’s doing what he has to to ensure Jordan’s out of your life and that they can no longer keep you and him apart.

About two weeks pass by and Lucas notices that there seems to be a wedge driven between Jordan and you. The two of you no longer joke around as much as before when you’re together, and it’s as if there’s a sort of tension in the air whenever you’re around one another. For this, he couldn’t be more glad, his plan is working, though he’s surprised at how well it is. There must have been some other underlying factors causing this rift between the two of you other than the sweater incident, as you’ve now decided to call it.

On the other hand, you and Lucas have been getting even closer to one another. At least, over text messages. You do come to visit him every now and then during his night shifts, but it’s usually around closing time after you’ve finished working in the library. Even so, he’s grateful for every moment he gets to spend with you.

The due date to your assignment is getting closer every day, and the two of you have decided to finish it at his apartment this Saturday, which just so happens to be tomorrow evening. That means there’s less than a day left in the week before he’ll be able to make his final move, and make you his, once and for all.

He’s just at work refilling the coffee beans when he hears the bell chime above the door. Once again, he’s the only one on the floor, and he’s glad for it, for you walk in and manage to take his breath away like you always do. However, instead of wearing your usual calm expression, you seem more tense, and slightly frustrated.

“Hey,” he greets, putting the bag of coffee beans down so he can start your order, “the usual, I presume?”

“Yeah, please,” your reply is short as you go to reach for your wallet.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house,” he says. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Thanks,” comes your blunt response, forcing a smile that pains his heart.

“Is everything okay? I don’t mean to pry…” he trails off as he starts making your drink.

Anyone would be able to tell that you’re not your usual self and that something is bothering you. He only wants you to know that he’s here for you, no matter what. He will always listen to whatever you have to say and do his best to support you in whatever way he can.

You let out a sigh, chewing on your bottom lip slightly, nervously. Lucas can tell that you’re contemplating on whether or not you should tell him what’s bothering you. Luckily for him, it looks like you trust him enough now to share your worries with him, a fact that warms his heart.

“It’s just Jordan,” you say, causing him to quirks a brow at you in response, waiting for you to continue. “They keep telling me that they don’t have my sweater and that you never gave it to them. This isn’t the first time they’ve kept something of mine and not given it back after saying they never had it in the first place.”

You pause momentarily, and he has to stop the surprised look that wants to spread across his features from breaking out onto his face. This plan of his is working out even better than he could have ever imagined. So, he decides it’s time to put his high school drama classes to use.

“That’s strange, considering I did give it to them,” he frowns. “Though, now that I think about it, they were acting kind of strange when I gave it to them.”

“What do you mean?” You question, brow furrowed as you watch his hands as they pour the shot into your drink.

“Well, they kind of snatched the hoodie from my hands and flung it over their arm like it was bothering them. It almost seemed like they were annoyed that I asked them to do this. Though I mean, I’ve heard they don’t like me very much,” he chuckles slightly, handing you your now finished drink, fingers brushing ever so slightly. “Though I found it strange that they wanted to talk with me in private.”

“They did?” You ask. “That is strange.”

“Yeah,” he nods subtly.

“What did they want to talk about, if you don’t mind me asking?” There’s curiosity in your eyes, but also, suspicion. Towards him or Jordan, he cannot be too sure, but he hopes he’ll be in the clear after this.

“Uh, well, I was quite shocked but they confronted me about supposedly,” he adds air quotes to his next words for emphasis, “playing with their feelings and leading them on.”

“What?” Your jaw drops.

“I swear, I was just as surprised as you are,” he goes on to say. “They told me that my little ‘game’ I was playing with them wasn’t funny any more and that I should just ‘be honest’ with my feelings for them and stop trying to make them ‘jealous’.”

“That’s ridiculous, oh my god,” you shake your head. “I don’t want to believe they would do something like that, let alone say it. From what I know, and - no offence - Jordan hates your guts.”

“That’s what I thought, too!” He replies, almost incredulously. “But I also know they like spreading rumours about people.”

You scoff, “you could say that again.”

“I mean, I don’t mean to stir anything even more, but wasn’t there also a rumour going around that I was supposedly trying to get with them or something?” Lucas leans one hand on the counter, the other resting at his side.

“Yeah, there was,” you nod. “It was cause of that coffee you brought me that one day in class, people thought it was for them cause-“ you pause, looking slightly embarrassed, “cause they were the one who drank it.”

“Oh,” he feigns a slight pout at learning this. “Did they- did they think I forgot to use lactose free milk or something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you meet his gaze, suspicion lingering in your eyes.

“I did, in case you’re wondering, just to be on the safe side,” he adds. “I knew one of them was and I didn’t want to take a chance if the one who needed it was you. Now I know I made the right call.”

“That’s actually really considerate of you,” you flash him a small smile before shaking your head. “Anyways, that’s not the point.”

“Exactly,” he agrees. “What if they were the one who started this rumour and used that as the catalyst.”

“They were pretty adamant about me not drinking it,” you recall, one hand coming to rest on your chin in thought, eyes widening as you realize something. “Holy fuck, maybe that’s why they’ve been-“ you inhale sharply, effectively cutting yourself off, “sorry to run off like this, but I’ve got to go. Thanks again for the drink, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Without another word, you storm out of the café, a fire now burning behind your eyes. Lucas is left there, stunned, heart racing as he can’t believe that this has actually worked. His plan is almost complete, and depending on how your talk goes with Jordan, of which he’s assuming is going to happen soon based on how you cut yourself off and stormed out of here, his plan might be complete by tomorrow evening.

A large smile breaks out across his face as he finishes wiping down all of the tables for the evening, his coworker finally coming out of the back to help him close the café. His whole body warms at the fact that tomorrow, he’ll finally be able to have you in his apartment, alone. Not to mention the fact that Jordan might finally be out of your life for good, eliminating that obstacle to your relationship before it can continue to sabotage him further than they already have. All he has to do now, is wait.

The whole afternoon the next day is spent cleaning his apartment and making sure it’s spotless for you. He makes sure he has food, drinks, anything you could possibly want for when you come over. Nothing is too much when it comes to you, and he wants to make sure he has everything he may need to make sure you’re happy and comfortable with him. This is his chance to impress you, and destroy any last remnants of him being a fuckboy from your mind. He’ll treat you right, forever and always.

Sure enough, seven o’clock rolls around and he hears a faint knock on his door. His heart nearly skips a beat in his chest, palms sweaty, as he walks over to open the door for you.

Greeting you with a small smile, he notices you seem extremely tense. As soon as you enter his apartment, you’re kicking off your shoes with a sigh as he shuts his door once more.

“Hey, let’s finish this project, yeah?” You turn to him, and he can tell that you’re drained, both physically and emotionally.

“Sure,” he nods, motioning to his living room for you to lead the way. “Uh, can I get you anything?”

“Water, please,” your response is short as you move to sit on the couch, pulling out your laptop to work on the project.

He walks back into the room a minute later with two glasses of water to see you just sitting there on his couch staring blankly at your computer screen. Placing the glass on the table in front of you, he gently takes a seat beside you, ”is everything alright?”

“Honestly?” You sigh once more, shutting your laptop and turning to look at him. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, brow furrowed in concern.

“Remember our conversation yesterday?” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “Well, I decided to confront Jordan about everything, cause everything was just a little too convenient for them, if you know what I’m saying.” Again, he nods. “We ended up getting into a huge fight, and now we’re not talking to each other. I just can’t believe they would lie to me like this.”

“What happened?” Escapes him before he can stop himself, wanting to know exactly what they told you incase he needs to cover his own ass. He’s gotten this far, and he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, there’s no way he’s slipping up now.

“Well, I told them everything we talked about, and they basically called me stupid for believing you and not them, and then said that they can’t believe I think that they stole my sweater, or that they started that rumour,” you tell him, and he listens intently to every word you have to say, reacting appropriately each time. “They kept bashing you, and honestly, that made me really upset cause you’ve been nothing but kind to me. They just keep lying, and it only looks bad on their end cause they can’t explain themselves to me properly, which I told them, then they called me stupid again, and said that I’m too gullible for my own good. Basically, they were treating me like a kid, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Like fuck, they always have something to say about everything I do, and they’re so fucking controlling, I just blew up. Then they said some things and it just spiralled out of control. I don’t need that negativity in my life.”

His eyes are wide in shock. His plan worked. It actually worked!

“I’m so sorry that this has happened to you, and that someone whom you thought was your friend would treat you like that,” he places a gentle hand on your knee for comfort and you glance down at it before looking up at him, concern written all over his features. “You don’t deserve that, and I apologize if I was the one who got you into this mess. I feel like if I wasn’t involved things wouldn’t have ended like this. I should have just given the sweater back to you.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” you shake your head, rubbing at your eyes lightly to clear your vision. “Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just sorry you had to get involved like this.” You let out a frustrated grunt. “I feel like there’s just too much going on right now, and now we have to work on that fucking project cause it’s due at midnight.”

“Well, I have some news that may cheer you up,” he squeezes your knee slightly, causing you to look at his face once more in question. “I already finished our project last night. Well, it was like, three in the morning, but I figured you could use a relaxing evening given the conversation we had yesterday”

“You did?” You look at him with eyes shining with gratitude and wonder, and fuck does he ever just want to lean in and kiss you.

“I did,” he confirms with a small smile.

“Lucas, I can’t thank you enough,” he can visibly see you relax, as if a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders just from this one act alone.

“I can order us a pizza or something and we can just relax tonight and watch movies if you want,” he’s hoping you say yes and don’t just decide to leave after learning you don’t need to finish your assignment.

“Sounds good to me,” you agree. “I could use some relaxation time, if you know what I mean.”

The wink you send him has his body tensing slightly, heart skipping a beat in his chest. Are you hinting at something else? Something more? Whatever it is, he’ll be happy to oblige.

“Oh, I hear you,” he smirks.

“Anyways, what movie would you like to watch?” You ask, putting your laptop down and leaning further into the couch, getting comfortable.

You spend the next twenty minutes deciding on what movie to watch, the two of you laughing and cracking jokes the whole time. He’s noticed you’ve relaxed even more now the more time that passed, and for that, he couldn’t be more grateful. If he allows himself to indulge in his fantasies, he envisions this as your first date night of many.

By the time the second movie starts, he’s ordered the both of you a pizza, of which now rests on the table in front of you. About halfway through the movie, he notices you shiver slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “just a bit cold.”

Fuck, the only blanket he has is on his bed and it’s the one thing he didn’t wash today.

“You can borrow one of my sweaters if you’d like,” he offers, eyes flashing with something you don’t quite catch.

“Damn, at least ask me on a date first before letting me borrow your clothes,” you joke, giggling as you move to stand up.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach, a feeling he’s only rarely felt before, but a feeling he wants to feel again, with you.

“Fine then,” he notices you tense slightly at his words as he leans forwards slightly to stare at you intently, “would you like to go out with me sometime?”

You chuckle nervously, your own heart skipping a beat in your chest. You won’t deny, you’ve always thought Lucas was attractive, you just never thought you were his type. As far as you know, he doesn’t ask anyone out, so why you? Why now?

“I was kidding,” you try and brush his question off, not thinking he’s being serious.

“I’m not,” comes his immediate reply, and you notice how intently he’s staring at you, making your breath hitch in your throat.

Fuck it, “sure, why not?”

The smile you send him sends him over the moon. His plan actually worked! He nearly has to pinch himself, for this is like a dream come true, and soon, you’ll be all his, and his alone.

“So, uh, which room is it?” Your question has a million thoughts running through his head, causing him to nearly lose his composure until he realizes you’re just asking where you can find his sweaters.

“Down the hall on the right, in the closet,” he replies, willing his heart rate to calm down. “Take your pick.”

“Sweet, thanks,” you smile, heading off in the direction he’s told you.

Once you’ve arrived at his room, you slowly open the door, noting how clean and tidy his room is. The faint scent of jasmine lingers in the air as you walk towards his closet, opening the door and looking over the array of hoodies he has. As you’re riffling through them, a familiar looking one catches your eye. Immediately, you’re tearing it off the hanger, confusion written all over your face.

In your hands, you hold your missing sweater, or at least, you think it’s your hoodie. Same size, shape, make, everything. You’re about to question it further when you remember Lucas telling you that he had a similar hoodie to the one you lost. This must be the one he’s talking about.

Immediately, your shoulders relax, breathing out a sigh of relief. There’s no way he would have lied to you about everything, now, would he? You trust him enough not to linger on these thoughts for too long, instead, slipping the hoodie over your body and smiling at the familiar warmth it brings you. You only wish you could get your own back soon.

Walking back into the living room, Lucas swears he stops breathing as soon as he sees you. Luckily for him, you miss the brief panic that flashes through his eyes.

“You know, when you said you had a similar hoodie, I didn’t think you meant you had the exact same one,” you joke, sitting back down beside him on the couch. “How come I’ve never seen you wear it.”

He laughs, “I only use it for special occasions.”

“I see,” you nod.

“It looks good on you,” he says, and he’s thanking every star he decided to wash it today.

“Thanks,” you giggle, and just like every time, it’s like music to his ears.

A silence settles back over the two of you as you continue to watch the second movie. He’s already made a promise to himself not to let you leave tonight; he finally has you, and he’s not letting you go so easily. However, with the way that your head lulls onto his shoulder near the end of the movie, he doesn’t think he’ll need to work too hard to make you stay.

He looks down at your sleeping form, hand coming up to carefully stroke the side of your cheek. Shifting slightly so that you’ll be more comfortable, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer into him and hearing you hum in content. This time, it’s your turn to shift, and he freezes, thinking he’s woken you up. Instead, you bury your head deeper into his side, one hand coming to rest on his chest while your one leg tangles with his own, your thigh dangerously close to his hips.

Exhaling shakily, he wills himself to calm down, not wanting to ruin this moment, and revelling in it while it lasts. All he knows, is that he’s in for one long night.

#yandere kpop #yandere au #yandere nct #yandere wayv #yandere lucas #yandere yukhei #yandere #yandere nct u #nct scenario #nct u scenario #wayv scenario #super m scenario #yandere super m #Lucas scenario #kpop #Kpop au #kpop scenario #au

640 notes · View notes

princessofprocrastination · 3 years

Text

Not Suitable (Quackity)

MASTERLIST

pairing : quackity x female reader

summary : quackity has always had a specific vision of what he wants his partner to look like and certain qualities he wants in them. unfortunately for you, you are the opposite of what he wants. (ANGST)

as a kid, you loved the whole girly look. you wore dresses, short heels that came in a princess toy set, and wore pink lipstick all the time.

but as time passed, as you grew older, your look changed completely. you like to say that you simply matured, that it wasn’t at all serious. slowly but surely as you were in your teenage years, your favourite colour became black.

that didn’t mean you didn’t like pink or these other “girly” colours. sometimes, you’d even incorporate some of those bright colours in your outfits to make a statement. you just seemed to like black, it matches with everything.

although you kept wearing black outfits or have black or dark nail polish on, your hair never stayed black or a dark colour. you just hated the look of the natural colour on yourself. it sure did fit other people, though.

you liked to describe your style as trendy. you always follow the trends of recent times and wore what you thought looked good on you.

you sat down next to sapnap, dream in the next room. you and sapnap had been friends since highschool. you skipped a grade, making yourself one of the youngest in that class which meant that you were lonely and no one really wanted to make friends with you.

but that quickly changed when nick came up to you and offered to eat lunch with you. since then, he had been your soulmate. platonic soulmate.

of course, being friends with nick meant that you were bound to meet the other two boys that he considered his best friends, too. it just so happens that you, george and clay ended up building an amazing friendship really quickly.

three guy bestfriends. that technically equals to having three big, protective big brothers. they really cared about you and you can see that, even if they often make fun of you.

nick started his stream, facecam on as you sat on an extra gaming chair that clay had next to nick. you typed away on your phone as he started rambling about random things while waiting for more people to come on.

apparently today you and nick were meant to play some scary game, you controlling the keyboard, him on the mouse. nick often forgot that it takes you a lot to get scared.

“we’re making this video inspired by quackity and karl’s stream from a while ago.” nick told his stream, you nodding your head to agree.

you smiled softly at the name he mentioned. quackity. it was apparent to everyone that you had some sort of crush on him. the small smiles, the little blush that rose to your cheeks if someone were to mention your ship name or tease you about it.

it was all too obvious. of course the three boys you call your best friends knew, you’d never keep such a secret from them. but no matter how annoying the boys can be, they never once told anyone else about your not-so-little crush.

but that didn’t mean they didn’t tease you. they enjoyed it whenever your face would turn red, whether it being you’re embarrassed or you’re mad.

the only weird part is that nowadays, they don’t even bother to tease you anymore, not like they used to. you knew they were hiding something from you, you just didn’t know what they were hiding.

for example, you seated next to sapnap, grinning as he mentions quackity’s name. he would never let you live down that moment. he’d tease you senseless. but this time, he only glanced at you and looked back to the stream.

and what was that? seemed like a pity glance. almost looked like he felt bad.

you two continued the stream as the ‘scared counter’ keeps going up as sapnap keeps getting scared, you constantly laughing at him.

“HOW ARE YOU NOT EVEN FLINCHING?” nick screams in your ear.

“cause i’m not a pussy.” you answered him simply.

“oh shut up, will you.” he rolled his eyes, you laughed at him being a scaredy-cat.

you two played for a while more as the counter on the bottom left of the stream screen gets higher and higher. soon enough it reached it’s limit which meant that sapnap needed to end his stream.

it was weird how time works. one second, things were mellow and slow, just like how your everyday is, and the next second, your name was trending everywhere.

you didn’t even want to check why at first, since you knew how weird and surprising your followers are.

“dude, you need to check twitter.” nick told you in a hurry while he runs from the second floor, to the kitchen in the first floor where you were sitting, editing a video for your channel.

so you did exactly that. you scrolled through the trending page and clicked on your name. then, you saw hundreds, if not thousands edits and videos of quackity and your video.

the video of yours that was posted was the part when you smiled at the mention on quackity’s name but as you scrolled more, it seemed that everyone had dug through and collected snippets of you blushing or smiling when quackity was mentioned or when you were on call with him.

you and quackity were no stranger to each other. the two of you knew each other, sapnap and him being friends and all. you just couldn’t help but fall for him. he’s just extremely charming.

although your exterior showed otherwise, you really swooned just by looking at his pictures.

and that’s why all the stans are going crazy. they didn’t think you’d fall for someone, especially not a man who act like a child on the internet. but you can’t predict people, especially not who they like, or more, love.

you slowly panicked. this was embarrassing to you. more so that it’s all over the internet. there was no way you could erase all of the posts.

on the outside, you looked composed, like it didn’t effect you at all. but nick knew you well, he knew you had a million thoughts in your head at that point.

you were just a second close to getting into a panic attack. “hey, hey. calm down, everything’s good.” nick coos in your ear as he pulls you close to him. he knew that you hated to be left alone when you panic.

you hated this feeling. it felt so unnecessary and it felt like you were making matters bigger than it actually is.

but the boys would tell you otherwise, they’d make sure that thought leaves your head as soon as it reached.

your body being rocked back and forth helped you calm down as you slowly start to forget the reason of your panic in the first place.

when you do come back to stream regularly, you tried to play off like nothing had happened, like it was all a dream.

that is one bad habit you couldn’t get rid of for some reason. you liked to just run away from your problems, big or small. you would often play it off like it didn’t matter to you, eventhough it is very much the opposite.

you’re just scared of getting hurt. you didn’t want to hear the rejection, you could never brace yourself for that kind of pain.

but somehow this was different. you braced yourself. you didn’t know what drove you to it, but you did. maybe it was the small signs your friends showed you that you never noticed. it was like you knew that rejection was bound to happen, and that this one would hurt the most.

you told yourself that you would never let yourself get hurt over someone, especially males. it just never made sense. they were never really worth your time, anyways.

although personally you’ve never ended a relationship of yours badly, just maturely, you’ve read and heard how painful relationships can be. and you never understood why people kept going back into relationships when they hurt so much.

but you get it. he’s simply addicting. you felt like you couldn’t distance yourself from him. but you needed to. and you knew that. all your friends told you that.

you weren’t going to let some man put you down because of what you look like.

granted, it hurt at first, but you learnt to heal, you learnt that although he probably isn’t going to be the only man who hurts you, you needed to suck it up and not show him the pain you felt. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

to summarise it all. quackity finally beat around the bush and came out with a statement on his own on his stream.

content creators or public figures often learn that they need to leave things for private, that they can’t spill everything out for people to hear. that causes drama.

but he didn’t stand back at all. everything he thought about you was shared on stream for all his viewers to know. maybe you liked him for his persona after all, not the real him.

“talk about it?” quackity read his donation.

“sure, i will.” he started. here it comes.

nick told you that in order to heal and move past the pain quickly, you can’t run away from your problems, to face the current issue. so he made you watch quackity’s stream.

you didn’t feel like shedding a single tear today because of how exhausted you are from crying for hours on end, but still agreed to your bestfriend’s wishes to sit through a long stream.

to be honest, you weren’t expecting him to speak on it, given the amount of time he’s waited. it’s been a couple months since it happened so you could only imagine the shock of his viewers when he finally did say something.

maybe the constant spam finally got to him.

“she’s not my type, chat.” he said. oh, that wasn’t so bad. no pain just yet.

“she’s far from it.” okay that pinched you a little. were you really that bad. you waited for his explanation.

“she looks so emo all the time, it’s scares me. does she ever not wear black?” ouch. and yes, yes you do.

“she’s just not what i like in women. i like soft girls who are respectful and know when to keep their mouth shut and definitely a little more conservative.” whoa. okay, maybe that hurt extra than the rest.

you turned to nick, he had the same shocked look on his face, clearly not expecting to hear that come out of his good friend’s mouth, especially on stream.

quackity doesn’t end there. he pulls out his phone, typing away. soon he pulled up a picture of you from your instagram account, showing his stream.

“she looks like she barely graduated highschool. she’s not one with a future, chat. just stop shipping us. i don’t like that.” he finally finishes, locking his phone and putting it down, continuing playing his game from earlier.

you closed your eyes for a while, trying to process it all.

“are you going to cry?” your bestfriend says from next to you. you shook your head.

“i’m furious.” you told him, voice soft but slightly menacing.

“holy shit. i’ve been waiting for this.” nick says, jumping in his seat. you knew exactly what he meant.

you aren’t the type to get mad. you only got mad jokingly. and as much as you look emo and depressed all the time, you’re practically a walking sunshine, you just don’t show it due to your resting bitch face.

and although nick and you have been friends for god knows how long, it wasn’t often he saw you mad. and it excites him to see you enraged, to say the least. to him, you always ‘pop off’ when you’re mad.

you made sure you cooled off slightly before you go off on the man. you didn’t want to do things you would regret, after all. but to you, you didn’t think you’d regret anything at this point.

you waited a couple days before you tweeted something.

it was simple, your tweet. just two photos. first, it was a photo of your acceptance letter to harvard law school from a year ago, followed by a photo of you carrying thick and heavy textbooks for school that was taken by nick when he visited you in campus.

it was captioned, “not one with a future.” simple, but it was obvious that this was going to blow up. you looked up from your phone to nick before you tweeted it.

you two shared a smile. a grin, if you will. it was like the two of you knew what that tweet would do.

you knew this was going to be surprising to your followers, too. you’ve never spoken about going to school after highschool. sure, if they scrolled far enough on your channel and listened through everything, they might know you skipped grades, which was the reason you met nick but most of them didn’t know. and you didn’t blame them.

what you would blame them for is that they sat and listened to everything quackity said in that stream. they all thought you were just one dumb, depressed girl who had no future. one that relied on a social media career.

only if they knew how wrong they are. well, that didn’t matter now. they all knew.

that was the only tweet you sent out regarding the matter. you didn’t want to prolong it, it isn’t worth your time.

when you did stream a couple days after you sent out that tweet, your twitch viewers sky-rocketed. it was weird, almost. but they weren’t there to patronise you. the opposite, really. they said sweet words, donated generous amounts and gifted plenty of subs.

you would answer questions as donations slowly came in. and one in particular caught you eye.

“why aren’t you in school.” the monotoned woman asked.

“i’m not currently in school because it is closed due to the pandemic. but i’m currently attending it online.” you answered swiftly, not really focused on the question but more to the parkour you were doing.

from time to time, your eyes glanced at your chat to see if they said anything that caught your eye, apart from the ones that bashed you for liking their favourite content creator.

it cracked you up to see how far stans would go to protect their favourite creators. granted, it made you feel a little envious seeing how many people unfollowed you when the drama happened. you wanted to know just who would stand with you, besides your actual friends.

“what would you describe your style?” the monotonous woman spoke once again as a donation came in.

“thank you for the 10.” you started, and then pausing to actually think about it before you answered.

“i think my style is a little more dark but not emo, as most people call it. i also don’t dress conservative.” you finished, feeling good about your answer.

you were not brought up in a conservative family, so that was shown in the way you dressed. no, you never really left the house in your bra and jeans, not saying that style isn’t cute, but you never stopped yourself from showing a little bit of skin.

you also were not the type to get insecure, so reading through comments on your posts have never really affected you. but there was something about the comment quackity said that made you rethink about a lot of things.

you hated that feeling, though. you hated that you let a man say things about you and made you feel apologetic about it. you knew it should never be like that. why did you let a man step all over you? it irked you that you stooped so low.

things also never got easy after the little drama. sure, you gained a little more publicity, but you felt nauseous knowing what attracted them. you’re just now constantly reminded how you got a higher number of following.

nonetheless, you’re grateful for the platform given to you, although this wasn’t the path you chose to take.

it didn’t take you long to recover from the tiny insecurity you found yourself having. you started not caring even more, posting even more photos of you. some might say you grew to be a narcissist.

but you enjoyed it. it showed people just how much you grew and learnt from what happened.

you’re glad you moved forward from it and never dwelled on the things he said about you.

also, did you mention that quackity apologised?

guess not.

Part 2

#quackity #quackity x reader #quackity imagines #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #quackity fanfiction #quackityhq

226 notes · View notes

satendou · 3 years

Text

⟼ makes the heart grow fonder

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous | 2/2

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime/reader/oikawa tooru

⇢ au: 365!au, poly!au, college!au, pro!oikawa

⇢ summary: prequel to 365 days; everyone always calls paris the city of love, but love can come anywhere, especially the unlikeliest of places

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: pre-relationship, polyamory, fluff, kinda angsty, alcohol use

⇢ word count: 11375 (oops)

Oikawa was nothing if not a creature of habit. He woke up, texted the two of you, showered, ate, went to classes and left for practice, which had been nonstop since he arrived in San Juan. When he got home, he would text you and Iwaizumi-- if he remembered between eating and crashing-- letting you know how practice had gone.

Sometimes he would get home to find some endearing, supportive message from you, letting him know you were going to sleep but that he needed to eat or pay his phone bill. You knew him too well, even from across the globe, and it made him smile, the stinging pain of something missing never stronger than in those moments. It was something he could ignore most days, exchange it for the radiating heat of a ball meeting his palm and forget for a while, but when he was slapped in the face with reminders of what he’d left behind, they were almost impossible to deal with.

He didn’t get to talk with the two of you half as much as he wanted, the 12 hour time difference making it nearly impossible to sync your schedules up, but on the rare nights where everyone was still awake and not quite tired enough to fall asleep yet, he lit up in ways he’d never experienced when he lived with you.

It made him wonder how much he’d taken for granted.

He couldn’t deny that a part of him was jealous that the two of you got to stay together. That same selfish part of him had come close to picking up the phone and saying he was coming home multiple times after he arrived in Argentina, the feeling was so strong. But the other half, the part that was equally selfish in a different way, couldn’t give up his dreams, not when he’d worked so fucking hard to get there.

On those days, you seemed to know what he was thinking and either you or Iwaizumi, with near psychic accuracy, would call him on his bullshit and things would be okay for a while. Those days had slowly grown less frequent the longer he stayed away, but the jealousy had simply been replaced with longing.

So when you had mentioned a break from school that just happened to coincide with his very first game, he couldn’t resist. Besides, he wanted some familiar faces in the crowd, and who better than you and Iwaizumi? Or his family, but they hadn’t been able to swing it for a myriad of reasons.

Then you had said yes, which was why Oikawa was standing up on his tiptoes at the luggage carousel, trying to see over the people for a glimpse of familiar faces. If he wasn’t looking at the crowd, he was staring at his watch.

Your plane had landed nearly twenty minutes ago, so you should have already disembarked. So why weren’t the two of you there in his arms yet?

“Oi, Brattykawa, you’re looking the wrong way,” a familiar voice sniped from behind him, and he whirled around, nearly losing his balance in his excitement.

“_____! Iwa-chan!” he yelled, throwing his arms around your necks and sending you faltering backwards.

Only Iwaizumi’s strength kept the three of you up, his arm wrapped around your waist and legs braced under Oikawa’s weight.

“You damn idiot, quit making a scene,” he snapped, but only pushed his friend back far enough to rebalance before squeezing him tight, his fingers curled in the back of the thin t-shirt Oikawa wore.

Your free arm came up around him as well, not nearly as strong but just as familiar and welcome and even though you all secretly swore you wouldn’t cry, tears still spilled over. The feeling of relief, of being whole again was overwhelming, and you linked your fingers with theirs as you moved through the crowd. Oikawa carried one travel case, Iwaizumi the other, and you lugged the shared carry-on bag you had brought.

Coming out of the airport after a twenty hour flight was a bit jarring and, though the two of you had prepared for a few days in advance and even slept on the plane, you could still feel jet lag kicking in. San Juan time was directly opposite Japanese time, so though you had gotten on your plane in Tokyo in the pitch black, Oikawa had carefully planned the flights and layovers so that you had arrived early in the morning.

The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, and you started sweating almost immediately.

“I can’t wait to show you guys around. But first, you’re probably hungry, right? There’s this cafe right around the corner from our apartment that has the most amazing churros I want you to try,” he rambled as the driver loaded your luggage in the trunk. Iwaizumi slid into the backseat beside you with Oikawa on your other side, all your fingers still linked together. “Oh but I guess we could go after you unpack. Don’t want you to have to drag your luggage everywhere.”

“Thank you for realizing, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi griped, and Oikawa laughed.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so excited for you guys to be here! It’s only been a few months but it feels like a part of me has been missing,” he said, and his fingers squeezed around yours tighter. It was exactly how you had been feeling since he left, like things were off kilter.

The conversation after that was mostly questions about the flights and the layovers, and how the jet lag was. The longer Oikawa watched and listened, the more he thought something was wrong.

It wasn’t...wrong wrong, it just seemed like there was something new and different to your interactions with Iwaizumi and vice versa. He would just have to keep an eye out for it, to see if he could discern what it was.

The apartment was the one Iwaizumi had picked out for him months ago, not that anyone was surprised. Usually when he suggested something, Oikawa took it without question.

As soon as the door was open, you were slammed with the familiar smell that you associated with Oikawa. That light and airy cologne permeated everything, like he had spritzed it everywhere, mixed with the detergent you used at home, or as close as he could get, you would guess. It was a double whammy-- you realized what you had been missing as soon as you got it again, and realized that when you left you would lose it.

It made you wonder what walking into your own apartment would be like.

Before you could get too lost down that train of thought, Oikawa put his hand to your back, leading you further in. Almost absently, Iwaizumi took your hand, letting Oikawa lead both of you to one of the large windows.

Light flooded the large combined kitchen/living room area. He had put curtains up, but they were currently tied back, leaving the windows exposed. The view was breathtaking, just high enough that it rose above most of the other buildings and gave you a long view of the city, marred by other highrises here and there.

He pointed out a large, strange dome shape in the distance, light reflecting off the top back into the city.

“That’s our stadium. I’ll show you around it later today, if we have time.” he said with a lopsided grin. “Anyway, your rooms are this way! You can pick which ones you want.”

His fingers linked with yours-- it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling your hand in his-- as he led you down the hall opening first one door and then the other. Both rooms filtered plenty of light, curtains tied up and exposing the decent sized rooms. A bed and dresser decorated each, but that was it. A simple beige color coated the walls and a ceiling fan spun slowly while the air conditioner kicked on. You set your bag down beside the bed and turned to face them again.

“I didn’t expect them to be this big,” you said, looking around. It was across from Oikawa’s, versus Iwaizumi’s, which was right across from the bathroom and closest to the kitchen.

“Sorry they’re so sparse. I figured I’d let you decorate them how you saw fit,” he said, leaning against the frame of the door. “The master is even bigger, but I said the same when I saw them the first time.”

Iwaizumi stood behind him, peering over his shoulder as you surveyed the room, close enough that Oikawa could feel his chest brush against his back. “Are you sure you should be giving these rooms away to just us? You’ll have other guests, won’t you?”

As nonchalant and almost coldly, he shrugged. “They can sleep in here when you aren’t, and there are hotels around the corner. But these rooms were never meant for anyone but you.”

With that, he steered Iwaizumi back down the hall to his room with you hot on his heels. Rifling through his closet, he threw two sets of light aqua sheets at you and Iwaizumi.

You stared at them for a moment, and then Iwaizumi coughed. “Did you pick these colors for a reason?”

Oikawa, busy restacking the things in his closet, stopped and gave him a quizzical look. “Uh, not really. Why?”

The two of you snickered behind your hands, sharing a knowing look before you held the package up higher. “Doesn’t this remind you of anything. A certain uniform, perhaps?”

The color faded from Oikawa’s face just before it all returned in force, a pretty shade of red covering his cheeks. His hand met his face with a loud smack, and he groaned. “I cannot believe I did that. I really did though, didn’t I?”

More snickering met his ears and his lips turned down in a pout. Before he could start to really get into it, you looked up at him and said, “It’s fine, Tooru. They’re very pretty anyway. I like them.”

Beside you, Iwaizumi sighed, his lips quirking up just the slightest bit. “They’ll do. You probably just closed your eyes and picked though, huh?”

Stomping his foot, Oikawa stuck his tongue out, pulling one eyelid down in a very familiar move. “Did not, Iwa-chan! Don’t be mean or I’ll kick you out!”

But Iwaizumi had already turned and headed back across the hall, missing Oikawa’s childish display, while you tried to breathe through your giggles. “Sure you will. You can try, Brattykawa.”

“Poor ______, how have you put up with him without me all this time,” Oikawa asked loudly as he followed you back down the hall, his fingers gripping the back of your shirt. There was this an urge to constantly be near you or touching you in some way ever since he’d first seen the two of you at the airport. It was like there was a magnet, drawing his hand to your back or your hand, a small zing of anxiety and a desire to make sure you were really here. It even extended to Iwaizumi, which he found unusual. Separation really was playing havoc with him.

As the day progressed, Oikawa slowly began to realize that your interactions with Iwa weren’t just different, they had changed. The way the two of you revolved around each other was new and a part of him felt shut out as he watched you go about your day. The conversations you had, the stories you told, he didn’t understand any of it and it left an empty feeling in his chest as he realized that in the few months the three of you had been separated you and Iwaizumi had started living a whole new life.

“Oikawa,” you said for the third time, and watched him blink as he refocused on you. You frowned, putting your hand on your hip as you stared up at him. He had been showing you around some of his favorite spots in the city with little enthusiasm and it was starting to worry you. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been out of it for hours now.”

The sun was relentless, so you had stopped at a street vendor for some shaved ice and moved to the shade of a large oak tree. Most of his had melted as he stared off into space, making the paper cone soggy and you watched it drip to the grass. Iwaizumi had thrown away your own garbage and was now staring at Oikawa, waiting for his answer.

But he hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain the foreboding feeling clutching at his heart. It had never occurred to him just how much things would change when he left Tokyo, too focused on himself to consider anything else.

His mouth opened and closed several times, his chocolate brown eyes wide and swimming with an emotion you could only describe as sadness and your stomach clenched. When you reached out to him, he drew you into his arms, burying his face in your hair in a familiar gesture, but even your shampoo had changed.

“Tooru, what’s going on?” you asked, feeling another hand land on your back, overlapping Oikawa’s. You turned your head to look up at Iwa, your heart pounding in your chest. Oikawa’s fingers were twisted in your shirt, and you could feel his heart racing under your hand until you wound your arms around his neck.

Iwa looked down into your face, taking in your wide, nervous eyes asking him to help, but he shook his head and shrugged. He had no more idea of what was going on than you did, but knew that Oikawa would explain when he was able. Whatever had gotten into him was clearly big, and he just needed time to figure himself out.

It was a few minutes before Oikawa moved, and you were sweating in his hold. There were other people walking by, whispering and pointing, but they quickly scurried off when Iwaizumi turned his ferocious scowl on them. When he did finally shift, it was only to stand up a little straighter and set his chin on the top of your head, locking eyes with Iwaizumi.

“It feels like so much has changed since I left. Like there’s some space between us now that wasn’t there before, and you two are standing on one side and I’m standing on the other,” he said at last, and he sounded as empty as his eyes looked.

Iwaizumi knew that look, it was the “I’m about to shut down and refuse to acknowledge that I’m an idiot and overthinking things” look. If it wasn’t stopped in its tracks right now, the rest of the day was going to be miserable.

Before Iwaizumi could smack him upside the head though, you piped up, voice small and fragile as you clung tighter to Oikawa. All the pent up worries and emotions you had hidden from Iwa flooded out, and he was a little aggravated that the two of you had decided to do this right now in the middle of ninety degree weather.

“I know how you feel. I’ve felt the same for the last few weeks, wondering what it was going to be like seeing you again knowing that you have a whole new life here. I was afraid that-- that you would have changed so much that-- I don’t know,” you tapered off, and then whispered, “I thought you wouldn’t want us anymore.”

He laughed at that, a tight, high noise that carried no humor, but the cold feeling in his chest abated and he relaxed, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your head and suddenly he was comforting you. “Never ever in a million years, _____. You’re too precious to me. Even Iwa-chan, who’s done nothing but bully me all day. I’d never try to replace you. I’d never let anyone replace you.”

And it was so easy to believe he meant it when he held you like that. Rubbing your face against his chest, you smiled. “You’re still such a sap. I should’ve known you hadn’t changed.”

He whined and pinched your side. “Don’t you be mean to me too, _____. I couldn’t take it.”

Squealing, you pushed him away, but he didn’t let you get far. It was hot and your palms were sweaty and it was uncomfortable, but when he laced his fingers with yours, you didn’t complain.

Iwa did though.

“Are you two done? It’s like, 100 degrees and I am melting. You two are such idiots,” he said, scowling at the two of you. His face was red and shiny with perspiration, and he looked seriously annoyed but he was also watching you with a fondness you’d only recently begun to notice. Since that night a few weeks ago, he had been far more affectionate and open, which was saying something because you were already so casually affectionate to begin with.

Poking his tongue out at him, Oikawa tugged you along down the sidewalk with renewed vigor. Iwaizumi grumbled behind but allowed himself to be led by the hand as Oikawa told you about the next place he was going to bring you and about the game in a few days.

“Unfortunately, I have to go to practice tomorrow, but feel free to wander the city, of course. Just please don’t get lost,” Oikawa prattled on, turning a corner onto a street lined with shops.

The rest of the day was spent investigating every one of them, Oikawa insisting that you get whatever you wanted to decorate your rooms and you obliged only to appease him. It was a little uncomfortable having him pay for everything, but you were weighted down with bags by the time you left the last store. It was mostly clothes, so that you wouldn’t have to pack so much when you visited again and some other small knick knacks that he bought even though you argued against it.

Iwaizumi was carrying far less bags-- at least until he took yours-- mostly because he refused to give into Oikawa’s puppy dog eyes and threatened to maim him if he continued to nag. But Oikawa couldn’t be stopped completely and picked up the things Iwa expressed interest in anyway. Iwaizumi wasn’t happy about it but the look of happiness on Oikawa’s face as he chatted with you, the bags swinging lazily from his arm, made up for it, and he found himself smiling.

The walk back to the apartment was considerably more pleasant without the heat of the sun cooking you alive, and the way first Oikawa then Iwaizumi laced their fingers with yours only made it that much better. There was an indescribable pressure in your chest as you took in the city lights and chatter of people around you. The sounds of sizzling food and smells wafting from street vendors made your mouth water, and Oikawa stopped to purchase a plate of kebabs from one as you passed by.

“You really don’t have to do all this, Tooru. We aren’t poor, you know,” you commented as he passed one to you and then Iwa. Grease dripped down your fingers, and the first bite you took was an explosion of different flavors over your tongue, making you groan. “Shit, this is so good.”

Oikawa watched you with a soft grin, holding his own kebab in his hand but not eating it just yet as he said, “Well there’s not much I’d rather spend it on than you, my little _____.”

The wonder in your eyes as they reflected the lights crisscrossing the street was doing strange things to his stomach, and when those eyes landed on them and the wonder deepened to something more intense, it exploded into butterflies. Something in his head clicked as it changed and he realized you were absolutely beautiful right then and there.

“Shit,” he muttered, and your brows furrowed in confusion as he shook his head. What a weird thought to have, and an even weirder reaction overall. Of course you were beautiful, he had always known that, so why had it hit him so powerfully all of a sudden?

“You alright?” you asked, wiping your mouth with a napkin. Setting your empty stick back on the plate in his hands, you picked up your second one. “You look like you’re in pain.”

He blinked and took a moment to answer, locking eyes with Iwaizumi, who was watching him with curious amusement. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve run all over town like this. The heat must’ve gotten to me.

The heat, huh? Iwaizumi smirked, watching Oikawa watch you with a newfound fascination. He wondered if he even realized he was doing it and how long it would take him to recognize it for what it was.

“Oh, well,” you said, your cheeks heating up for reasons you couldn’t identify. The look in his eyes had changed, emotions you couldn't identify swirling around in his soft brown irises, but it caused your heart to stutter. “Maybe we should go home then. You have practice tomorrow and I’d hate for you to get sick or something. And just before your game too.”

You began to walk as you polished off the last of the food, still struck with wonder at the liveliness of the city. It was different than Tokyo, if no less crowded. Your city was quiet in a lot of ways, tame, whereas this one was wild and loud and raucous. It was enough to make your head spin, and you wondered if you were experiencing culture shock. Only the pressure of Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s slightly greasy fingers kept you from wandering off into the crowds, absorbed as you were with the lights and music.

Oikawa understood all too well, having experienced the same thing when he first arrived as well. He had been grateful for his guide, who had kept him from getting lost and probably mugged or worse in his first few weeks there. Now he knew the layout of the places he most frequented, at least, and he mainly stuck to those.

The street his apartment was on was quiet, the streetlamps casting soft light on the dark buildings with the sun just barely visible on the horizon. You could still hear the faint sounds from the main street, but it was muffled and filtered and you were surprised to find it was almost comforting. It was only nine o’clock, and he wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep yet, even though he knew he really should. He would be up early tomorrow morning and busy all day and probably into the night getting ready for his big game.

There was a sudden rush of nervous energy, one he was used to just before a game, and it never failed that it would keep him up for a while longer.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked, gesturing to the TV. He had a wicked setup, high definition, ultra-surround sound, the works, along with a collection of DVDs and probably every streaming service imaginable to boot.

But he looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes that you had failed to notice before, and you kicked yourself for not realizing sooner. Stupid, stupid, Oikawa!

“I-- maybe we should head to bed, instead,” you suggested, giving Iwaizumi a pointed look.

He was quick to catch on and gave Oikawa a once over as the three of you stood in the kitchen The man looked ready to collapse, his hands trembling ever so slightly, but there was some manic glint in his eyes that he recognized as pre-game jitters, and he groaned internally. Oikawa was going to work himself to death, same as usual, only here there was no one to tell him when to quit because it was his job.

“Goddammit,” he muttered, glaring at him. Dealing with Oikawa really was a full time job, even from halfway around the world. Louder, and to your annoyance, he said, “Actually a movie sounds good. I’m not tired quite yet.”

Oikawa perked up from the slump he had gone into and nodded, scurrying across the room to the TV, and you used the opportunity to turn on Iwaizumi.

“Hajime, he looks like he’s going to drop dead. He needs to sleep,” you whispered, eyeing Oikawa. But he was so absorbed in setting up the sound system that he didn’t even realize you were still in the kitchen. “I-- I’m worried.”

Iwaizumi sighed, cupping your cheek. His other hand squeezed your shoulder, and you realized he was no less worried than you. “I know, but what can we do? He’s an adult and not our responsibility anymore.”

Both of you had been with him through his overzealous competition with Kageyama, one or both of you having to literally pick him up from the floor when his knees wouldn’t hold his weight more than once. There had been too many fights and sleepless nights with him about overworking himself and his obsessive need to defeat both Kageyama and Ushijima that you didn’t want to think about what he was doing to himself without someone to yell at him now.

And the way Iwaizumi talked hurt because it was true. He wasn’t, and hadn’t been for months. You hadn’t even really stopped to consider what he might be doing to himself without you and Iwaizumi to knock some sense into him, but it was plain as day that he was working himself to the bone when you stopped to really look at him.

“I know that,” you muttered, but you didn’t really believe it. It was second nature to take care of each other, and that didn’t change just because of a few months apart. Years of friendship trumped that by miles and you weren’t sure that would ever change. “Still…”

“Look,” Iwaizumi said, glancing at Oikawa again. He was still messing with something and in a rush Iwa continued. “He’s too worked up about the game, so he won’t sleep anyway. Let’s just stay up and maybe we can help him relax--”

Oikawa’s voice cut him off, playful but a little suspicious, making the two of you jumped. “What are you two whispering about?”

Feeling guilty at the betrayed expression on his wan face, you opened your lips but no sound came out. There were words stuck in your throat-- worried reprimands and demands-- but you knew they would do no good. Not with his very first game on the international circuit looming in just two days time. Nothing you said would make a difference, and to stress him out with a fight before that wouldn’t be fair, or at least no more fair than he was being to himself anyway.

Picking a fight right now would only ruin your vacation and make everyone miserable, so instead you closed your mouth and reached out to take Iwa’s hand, which squeezed yours so tight you could feel your bones grinding. “Sorry, Tooru, just chatting about tomorrow. Didn’t realize we were whispering.”

Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, though, and Oikawa’s narrowed, his lips turning down. Everything had been fine until you had gotten back to the apartment, but now you and Iwa both looked withdrawn and distant, unable to look at him for more than a moment before finding each other. “Are you...sure?”

The air filled with a tense silence, and once again you felt like a chasm was between you, with you and Iwaizumi on one side and Oikawa on the other, and you wondered if it would ever truly close up again. He looked so alone on the other side, drawn into himself and insecure, that you had to clos the distance to him and took his hand. It created a chain between the three of you until Iwa reached out for Oikawa, and you breathed a little easier for it.

“Everything is fine, Tooru, if you are,” you said, and he heard the pointed question in your tone.

Iwaizumi groaned internally. He should’ve known you wouldn’t just leave it alone.

For Oikawa’s part, he should’ve known you would notice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. But he didn’t feel like getting into it with you on your first night in-- if at all-- but he knew he would have to let you fawn over and get onto him following the game. He just hoped you would drop it until then.

“I’m tired, _____, but I’m okay. Things will slow down once the game is over, I promise,” he said, and you picked up on the thin warning in his voice.

Another tense silence followed as they waited for you to make your decision, and you ultimately sighed, dropping his hand. You understood his sentiment all too well, and knew that Iwaizumi was right when he said it would be better to wait, but that didn’t mean you were happy with what Oikawa was doing to himself.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he gestured to the collection of DVDs lining the shelves. Ultimately, it was left up to you and you picked out something you knew everyone would enjoy: The X-Files. The way Oikawa’s tired face lit up was a testament to that, even if Iwaizumi huffed in exasperation. At least you hadn’t pushed the issue with Oikawa, letting it devolve into a fight. He really didn’t feel like having to mediate between the two of you tonight.

Three episodes in and Oikawa was drooping onto your shoulder, eyes fluttering with the effort to remain open. The hand he had been using to hold yours was slack, fingers loosely intertwined, and he whined when you pulled away, reaching out for it again. But you were pushing at his shoulder, guiding him down to lay in your lap, and he hummed in contentment. A blanket landed on him, the one from the back of the couch, then your fingers were brushing through his hair, nails scraping his scalp and he was drifting, images of the day flickering through his mind’s eye. They mixed with some weirder things, like a giant cat and running through Tokyo away from an alien, and he stopped fighting to bring the other images back.

His breathing evened out, his full weight coming to rest on your legs, and your fingers stilled. Eyes locked on the screen, you said, “Sorry, Iwa, for earlier. I know you’re right, but I can’t help but worry.”

Iwaizumi already had the remote in hand, fiddling with the buttons until he could figure out how to switch the screen over to Netflix, and he sighed as he flipped through the shows. “I know how you are, ______, but you know how Oikawa is. He’s always been that way.” He wasn’t patronizing as he said it, just pointed, making you flinch.

“I know that, but is anyone down here going to keep him from killing himself? You know he doesn’t know his limits,” you said, watching as he clicked into the info screen for Mad Max. The opening title played and you relaxed into the back of the couch, propping your legs up on the coffee table.

He sighed, eyes fixated on Charlize Theron coming down on her platform. He loved that movie, watching it almost as often as Godzilla. “Yeah, I do know. But there’s nothing we can do, is there? He’s halfway around the world from us and texting him about it will only get ignored.” His arm came down around your shoulders, squeezing you to his side, and you let your head fall to his shoulder. “He’ll be alright, _____. Once this game is over, he should settle down. He’s probably just desperate to make a good impression.”

You chuckled at that as you watched the movie, Iwa’s warmth surrounding you and the steady rise of fall of Oikawa’s shoulders lulling you into a stupor. You knew he was right because Oikawa had always been like that-- desperate, for some reason, to make sure everyone knew he was worthy of the praise he received. As if you didn’t already think he was.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until Iwaizumi was nudging your shoulder. The weight on your legs was gone and you jerked awake to find Oikawa sitting up, rubbing his eyes and glaring at Iwaizumi.

“I was comfortable,” he whined, draping himself over you dramatically. You giggled, your eyes stinging with sleep, but pushed him off you gently. “Not you too, _____.”

“We should go to sleep,” you reprimanded, letting Iwa help you up off the couch. Holding your hand out to Oikawa, you were almost pulled back down by his strong grip, and heard him snicker. “Don’t be a brat, Tooru,” you said, pinching his side and listening to him whine.

You parted ways in the hall, the resonating click of three doors closing before silence reigned, and you changed quickly. Collapsing onto the bed with a sigh, you breathed in the fresh smell of laundry detergent and smiled as you realized that, somehow, Oikawa’s damn cologne had stuck to the sheets too.

The next day, you and Iwaizumi wandered around the city again, following Oikawa’s suggestions of sites to check out. The city center was beautiful but packed, the fountain gurgling away happily, and that’s where the two of you had lunch. Following that, you went around to a museum, taking a tour where the guide explained the founding of the city and other interesting facts. Iwa accidentally ripped the pamphlet, causing you to laugh at the confusion on his face as he tried to figure out how it happened.

The last place you visited was an absolutely beautiful park. There were people everywhere there as well, sitting in the grass and on the benches littered around the lake. Iwa casually reached out, taking your hand as you walked down the riverwalk, gazing at the serene blue waters, and your heart skipped a beat.

When you returned to the apartment, greeting the doorman on your way by, it was still dark, and you set the ingredients you had purchased down on the counter. On the way back, you had mentioned how Oikawa had probably not had any homemade food since he moved there, so Iwaizumi had suggested making onigiri for him.

The two of you worked in quiet tandem, putting the rice on before turning to help Iwa make the fillings. You had opted for a few different ones, and you were overflowing with rice balls by the time you were done. To an outsider, it would look like too much, but you knew your boys all too well-- they would eat every single one of them before the night was through.

As you worked, you asked, “How long do you think he’ll be?”

He shrugged in response, molding rice around a tuna filling. His muscles flexed with the effort, veins popping naturally all along his forearm, and you found yourself lost in watching him work. It was something you were always prone too, but lately thoughts of a different nature were popping into your head, thoughts you really, really didn’t want to be thinking.

It took him a moment to realize you hadn’t said anything more, and he looked up to find you staring at him intensely. “See something you like?” he joked and watched you jump, your face flushing as you turned back to your own work. His eyes narrowed at your unusual reaction-- normally you would come back with a defensive “No,” or some quip about how there was nothing to see at all.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to see the game tomorrow,” you said, and he could hear the strain in your voice. You were packing the rice balls with more tenacity than normal, obviously determined not to look at him again, and something about it soothed the low burn in his chest that had been there for some time, diligently ignored.

He nodded, even though you weren’t looking, and picked up the next onigiri. “Oikawa is gonna be amazing out there, like always. I’m glad we get to be here for him.”

“Me too,” you said, and then laughed. “Imagine if we hadn’t come. He would be blowing us up right now, whining about how nervous he is and how we don’t love him anymore.”

He laughed with you, imagining Oikawa stomping his foot as he complained about being abandoned. “Thank god we came then. We would never survive his wrath.”

When the onigiri was done, you plopped down on the couch, putting on Family Guy on Hulu for background noise while the two of you played on your phones. Your feet were in Iwa’s lap as you tapped away at a game on your screen, the sound drowned out by Peter’s loud laughter, and that was how Oikawa found the two of you an hour later.

The sound of his entry was covered by the TV, and something heavy settled in his stomach when he opened the door and called, “I’m home.”

He snickered when you both jumped, twisting around to look at him. A smile lit your face while Iwa just looked unimpressed.

“Welcome home!” you said, throwing your arms up with dramatic enthusiasm, and Oikawa snickered.

“Awe, you even cooked. My little housewives,” he cooed, picking up a rice ball from the plate on the counter. He took a bite, nostalgia and longing filling his heart at the familiar flavors. It reminded him of home-- not Japan, not Tokyo, not Miyagi, but you and Iwa.

“Watch it, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi growled, scowling up at his friend, and was stopped short by the expression on his face. It was so tender it was almost painful as he stared down at the rice ball in his hands, and then he turned it full force on the two of you.

“I really missed you guys,” he said, and then laughed. “And onigiri, and takoyaki, and Japan.”

He brought two more over and squeezed between you, practically sitting on top of you, slinging his arm over Iwa’s shoulders. You exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi, who just shrugged in amusement.

“What’re you doing home so early anyway?” you asked, returning to your game. You were only 500 points away from beating your highscore, and you tapped away to get there. Oikawa watched over your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your ear, and a shiver ran down your spine.

He was unusually quiet and focused as your character moved across the screen, avoiding obstacles and slashing at small blob monsters in your path. “Uh, they wanted us to rest for the big game. Speaking of which, I have your passes in my bag, so don’t let me forget to give them to you otherwise they won’t let you in.”

You hummed, avoiding a blob only to get killed by an arrow on your last life. “Goddammit.”

Exiting out of the app purely out of spite, you locked your phone and looked up at Oikawa. His face was closer than you had realized and your face heated up when your nose bumped his. He seemed as startled as you and jerked back, his cheeks turning a pretty red underneath his tan. His brown eyes were wide with surprise, lips parting slightly, and his arm slid off Iwa’s shoulders.

Iwaizumi watched the whole thing with something that could have been amusement, but he couldn’t quite tell. There was a flareup of something in his chest, and he might have named it longing if he hadn’t been trying to ignore those feelings. Clearing his throat, he continued to scroll through his phone and watched the two of you shift, trying to ignore the tension in the air.

“Anyway,” you said, picking at the hem of your shorts. You picked your phone back up and unlocked it, clicking into Twitter. “Do you know where our seats are?”

Back in familiar territory, Oikawa perked back up. “Well...I got you front row seats! And you’ll meet me in back after the game is over to go to the afterparty.”

“Oh, we get to party with the great Oikawa still?” Iwa asked, snickering at the way Oikawa huffed.

“Not with that attitude, Iwa-chan. Maybe I’ll just take _____ and leave you at the stadium,” he said, wrapping his arm around you possessively. It seemed whatever strangeness had occurred earlier was wiped from his mind as he pulled you into his chest.

You laughed into his shirt, fingers wiggling against his stomach until he squirmed and let you go. “You can’t be that mean, Tooru,” you chided, curling your legs up underneath yourself. Liking one of Bokuto’s tweets, you continued, “What would we do without Iwa there to keep us from getting too drunk?”

“And going home with the wrong people again?” he piped up, and Oikawa flushed bright red again.

“It was one time, Hajime. Stop bringing it up!” he whined, hiding his face in his hands. “_____, help me!”

Instead, you snickered and said, “That was the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You should have seen how confused they were when you stumbled up to them screaming Iwa-chan, _____ I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Iwa burst into laughter while Oikawa groaned.

“I hate it here,” he said, muffled by his hands. “Why does everyone hate me?”

Patting his back, you choked out, “It’s because you’re pretty.”

“Ugh.”

The game that day was absolutely fantastic. Oikawa was flawless, encouraging his teammates and commanding everyone’s attention-- then again maybe that was just you projecting, but if anyone asked you would say it was true-- and it seemed they won the game without effort.

They all clapped him on the back in the middle of the court, laughing and cheering and, when they turned to acknowledge the crowd, Oikawa’s smile was all for you.

A security guard approached your seats a few moments later, gesturing you towards the set of doors the team was heading towards, and Oikawa fell into step beside you, slinging a sweaty arm over each of your shoulders.

“God, Oikawa, you’re disgusting. Get off us,” Iwa snapped, shoving at his arm, but Oikawa was undeterred.

Still regaining his breath, he asked, “How was I out there? Amazing, right?”

“If you already know,” Iwaizumi said, giving up the fight with his arm, “why are you asking?”

“Because I want to hear you say it, of course,” he answered, guiding you towards the locker rooms. There was a series of benches lining the hall and he stopped in front of them, grinning. “Wait here. We’re gonna have to do a few more interviews and then we’ll go to the venue,” he said, turning towards the locker room.

It was almost thirty minutes before the team finally trudged back out, still in high spirits, and another thirty to deal with the throngs of reporters and news crews who wanted interviews. Finally, you loaded up onto the bus, stuck between Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The whole ride was loud and you laughed at the antics of the team. Iwaizumi was right at home amongst them, as if he were right back in highschool, riding the high of a win.

The party was being held on the rooftop of a nearby hotel, complete with an open bar, DJ, and more athletes, friends and family of said athletes, and reporters than you could count. You were introduced to the team and their spouses before being dragged off by a few of them to dance. Iwaizumi found you a little while later, three drinks in and giggling maniacally with the libero’s wife, Trish. She was telling you about when she first met her husband at a party just like this one and how she threw up on his girlfriend at the time’s shoes. He had laughed so hard she broke up with him right then, and you couldn’t help but laugh even though it was kind of sad.

“Hey, princess,” Iwa said, and you shouted his name happily at the sight of him. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes slightly unfocused, and when you took a sip from his cup you were overcome with the taste of vodka. “Oikawa was looking for us.”

“Oh,” Trish teased, pushing you a little harder than intended in her drunk state. You fell into Iwaizumi, who only caught you out of habit. “Are you dating our little all star?”

“W-What?” you shrieked over the loud music, shaking your head wildly. Your hair fell into your face and the sky spun, then you started giggling again. “No, no, it’s-- nothing like that?”

“Are you asking or telling, _____?” she asked, but Iwa was pulling you away, pushing through the pulsating crowd towards the bar.

Oikawa was standing there, eyes bright with drunkenness as he chatted with someone you didn’t recognize, and he waved as you stumbled up. Pulling you from Iwa, he said, “_____, this is Andre. He’s from the Swedish team. This is my best friend from Japan.”

You straightened up, the haze of alcohol clearing as you focused on the tall man in front of you. He was smiling kindly at you, a cup in his hand like everyone else, and nodded at you. He spoke with a Spanish accent as he said, “It’s nice to meet you, _____. You’re very beautiful.”

Eyes widening, you stuttered as you said, “T-Thank you.”

His grin grew bigger, and you missed the way both Iwa and Oikawa tensed to either side of you. If he saw it, he ignored it, asking if you wanted to dance.

Your friends let you go with reluctance, a pained expression on Oikawa’s face as he looked to Iwaizumi. Neither knew what to say-- they knew it would happen eventually, you couldn’t remain unnoticed forever.

“She’ll be okay,” Iwa said, pouring himself another drink. It was his fourth so far, and he was careless as he poured his alcohol. “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

Oikawa didn’t like the calmness in his voice when something ugly was raging in his chest, something he had been ignoring all this time whenever you talked about other people you expressed an interest in. But alcohol made him loose and the jealousy reared up sharper than ever as he caught glimpses of you twirling and swaying with the beat of the music. Andre’s hands were on your hips and you were laughing at something he was whispering-- at least as far as Oikawa could tell-- into your ear.

His hands were tight around his cup, squeezing and crinkling the cheap plastic, then it was being tugged from his fingers and another was replacing it.

“Drink,” Iwa said, sipping from his own cup. “Jealousy looks ugly on you.”

“Iwa,” he snapped, watching your arms loop around Andre’s neck, “how can you be happy about this?”

Iwa tensed beside him and pinned him with a glare that would have cowed him if he was less drunk or less irate. “What makes you think I am, Oikawa? But she isn’t-- she’s not ours.”

Ours echoed in his head, and for the first time he really looked at Iwaizumi. He realized that the jealousy never flared when he was around, and watching the two of you curled up together on his couch never elicited the emotion either. It felt like home watching the two of you, and yesterday was the first day he had actually looked forward to coming home. Seeing Iwaizumi’s spiky black hair over the back of the couch and your smiling face as you welcomed him home had made all the difference to him, and he took a large swig from his cup, the rum burning on the way down before he spoke again.

“She could be.”

It was said so quietly that if Iwa hadn’t been standing shoulder to shoulder with him he wouldn’t have heard him. His head whipped around, swimming a little with the alcohol, and narrowed his eyes.

Oikawa could feel his eyes on him, meeting his gaze head on. He wasn’t joking, the mix of jealousy and alcohol wouldn’t let him. Iwaizumi’s face was blank, but he could see the gears turning as he processed his words as best he could with his level of intoxication.

At last, he seemed to reach a decision, the blankness morphing into a calculating look and he said, “What about her? Does she want that? And us? Oikawa, we can’t hold her back because we don’t want to let her go.”

Oikawa looked back to you and sighed. You were now dancing with Andre and one of the other wives whose name he’d already forgotten, laughing without care. “If she doesn’t want us, then we’ll let her go. But I can’t-- Iwa, you feel the same, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he said, admitting to it at last. It felt like the weight of finally confessing was lifted only to be replaced with the weight of acknowledgement, and he wasn’t sure he liked it any better. “For both of you, but it doesn’t mean anything if she doesn’t want it. What will you do if she rejects you?”

“Then I’ll beg her not to cut me out of her life, of course. And she’ll forgive us because even if she doesn’t love us, she loves us,” he answered, and said it with such certainty that even Iwaizumi believed him. He sighed, clapping Oikawa on the shoulder and, as if the gods were listening, you disentangled yourself from Andre and approached them.

Even in the dim light they could see how happy you were, skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat. A few strands of hair were sticking to your forehead, and you pushed them back as you greeted them. “Hey, guys, what’re you just standing here for? This is a party for you, Oikawa!” You were shouting over the music and reached out, taking Iwa’s cup from his hand. Taking a swig, you grimaced. “How are you still standing, Haji?”

Iwa chuckled while Oikawa took a long swallow from his cup.

“You’re right, princess. Let’s go dance!” he said, and took your hand. You grabbed Iwa’s at the last minute and pulled him after the two of you, his drink sloshing as he stumbled to keep up.

You found yourself pinned between the two of them, the heat radiating off of them and everyone around you making your brain fuzzy. Your arms looped around his neck when you handed Oikawa’s cup back after stealing a sip, body swaying to the beat of the music thudding from the speakers. Andre was all but pushed from your mind as his hand settled on your waist, Iwa’s landing on your other. His back was pressed flush to your back, your chest touching Oikawa’s, and suddenly nothing else existed.

The smell of his cologne filled your nose, mixed with the heady scent of alcohol and sweat. Your head spun when Iwa pressed his nose into your hair, pulling it to the side to expose the back of your neck, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

The song changed, more intense, and you lost yourself in the feel of their bodies against yours, tall and protective. Spinning around, you wrapped your fingers around Iwa’s neck now and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Having fun, princess?” Oikawa whispered, a breath of air ghosting over your ear making you shivered. His hand was low on your hip, squeezing as he pulled you back into him, and you nodded. “I could use another drink. Keep her warm for me, Hajime.”

His warmth disappeared and you instantly missed it and the feeling of security. Nuzzling closer to Iwa, the beat shifted again, slowing down and going darker, and you shivered as the bass thrummed through you. His hand drifted lower, settling just below your hip, and you looked up at him. Both their drinks were a lot stronger this time around, and you could feel the effects on you in the way everything swam. You couldn’t focus on anything but Iwaizumi and the way he was staring at you with dark, hooded eyes. You were sure he was as drunk as you, but you didn’t even realize you were leaning up until he stopped you, giving you a soft smile.

“Not here, princess, not while you’re drunk,” he said into your ear, and you flushed under the spinning strobe lights. You were too important to him to do this when you weren’t sober, and he wanted to talk before you made any decisions.

His words held a promise you didn’t expect, and you swallowed thickly around the cloying taste of vodka.

“But when I’m sober?” you whispered, and it was only because you were still right by his ear that he heard you.

He chuckled, nodding as he rested his sweaty forehead against yours. “If you remember, princess. Yeah.”

“What have we here? I thought you had more chivalry than that,” Oikawa said from beside you. He slid back into his place behind you, resting his cheek on your shoulder, lips a hair away from touching Iwa’s forehead. “By the way, Andre is not happy. Isn’t it great?”

Iwa snickered, kissing the tip of your nose before he took in Oikawa’s shit eating grin. Leaning in close, his nose brushed Oikawa’s. “You take way too much pride in that, Shittykawa.”

“Don’t you? Our _____ is a desired woman, after all,” he said, eyes narrowing as they dipped down to look at Iwa’s lips. The temptation was strong enough that it caused him to lick his own before meeting Iwa’s again, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He was following the beat of the music, swaying side to side with you. It had shifted once again but remained low and resonating, the others around you pushing and pulling you with the flow. Your head tipped back to rest on his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and amused.

“What do you mean our?” you asked, teasing. You snatched the cup from his hand and took a drink, playing keep away from Oikawa when he reached for it. You weren’t expecting for Iwaizumi to take it from your hands and drink from it, both of you laughing when Oikawa whined.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you to him while Iwa held onto the cup, laughing brashly. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he was feeling lighter than air, and he looked at you and Oikawa, draped around you like a blanket. Love flooded his system, mixing with the drink and his head spun at the intensity. He wondered if he would feel that way tomorrow, but decided that was a problem for another Iwaizumi. He came back to you, arm slipping around you both as far as the could to curl in Oikawa’s shirt.

The party was still raging, and he was going to enjoy it with the two of you.

You didn’t stumble into the apartment until the early hours of the morning, when the earliest risers were getting ready for work, and half-assed the removal of your makeup. Hands had grabbed you the minute you exited the bathroom and dragged you back to the living room, where you collapsed in a pile on the couch. You passed out until mid afternoon and woke up tangled in long and muscular limbs, remaining makeup caked and the lingering taste of alcohol in your mouth. How you had managed not to throw up was a miracle, and the men only groaned when you untangled yourself from them.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you cleaned the rest of the makeup off your face and snagged some of Oikawa’s facial cleanser before hopping into the shower. Flashes of last night came back to you. Dancing with Andre, listening to him whisper into your ear and laughing at things that weren’t that funny now, then finding Oikawa and Iwa and being dragged back into the crowd. That caused your heart to race, remembering the way they had pinned you between them, hands groping at your hips and moving against you. Oikawa had disappeared and it was just you and Iwa, the intense look in his eyes as he stared down at you, leaning up and--

God, you had almost kissed him. And he had-- he had said if you remembered when you were sober. Your heart was thumping so hard that your hungover brain was spinning. The question was, did he remember?

Feeling marginally less dead but more nervous than ever before, you dressed and headed back into the living room to find Iwaizumi and Oikawa both sitting up with their heads in their hands.

“I haven’t gotten that drunk since my last party in Japan,” Oikawa groaned, massaging his temples. He remembered a surprising amount about last night, but most clearly was the conversation with Iwaizumi, and he knew without asking that he remembered it too. Neither of them were drunk enough to forget, but after that was a different story. All he remembered was dancing with you for the rest of the night, your hands in his hair and on his chest, body moving against his, and his heart throbbed in his throat.

Iwa chuckled at that and then winced when the action made his head throb. “Weak. But same.” His schedule was always too packed to get that blitzed, so he stuck to two drinks and then went home.

The door to the bathroom opened and you came out into the living room wearing one of their shirts-- they didn’t even know whose at that point-- and sat down between them on the couch.

“You look like trash,” you said, snickering when they grumbled.

“I’m gonna go shower now,” Iwa said, standing up from beside you. He gave the lightest touch on your cheek before disappearing down the hall. The sound of water running met your ears, and you fidgeted with your hands.

Oikawa groaned and flopped sideways down on the couch. “I ordered takeout already. It should be here soon. I need something greasy, so I hope you don’t mind burgers.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food, reminding you that the only thing you had eaten were some hors d’oeuvres at the party. “That sounds absolutely amazing.”

You put on Netflix while Oikawa replaced Iwa in the shower, the air tense between you two. The words from last night replayed and you were working up the courage to see if he remembered as well when he turned to you.

“Hey, uh, _____, do you-- I mean, what do you--?” he said, and the doorbell rang, indicating the food was there. “Well, nevermind.” He stood up and answered, the smell of greasy food hitting you after a moment.

“Gimme gimme,” you said, taking the box he handed to you.

The shower cut off and a few minutes later Oikawa joined you, groaning as he took a bite of his burger. “Nothing has ever tasted so good.”

You continued to eat in silence, a tense weight hanging over the three of you and the longer it went unacknowledged the more nervous you got. The scene kept playing over in your head, exhausting you more than the hangover, your stomach rolling with anxiety. At last, you couldn’t take it and pushed your burger away.

“Listen, guys, um, I have something to say and I really hope that you don’t freak out but I--”

“Do you remember last night?” Iwaizumi asked, cutting you off. You flinched beside him, eyes wide as you nodded, and he reached out, taking your hands. “Was that real? Is it something you want?”

Your mouth went dry as he moved closer, leaning in like you had last night, and your lips parted, but no words came out. Oikawa shifted behind you, unaware of what you were talking about, but Iwa’s eyes locked with his over your head and he understood that whatever it was, it was promising.

Heart in your throat, you nodded, and that was all Iwa needed.

Your first kiss with him was soft and sweet, his hands coming up to cup your face, and he tilted his head to the side to deepen it. Oikawa groaned, fingers digging into your sides and letting his head drop to your shoulder. Somehow, what he had talked about last night was actually happening, and he fought the urge to pinch himself to make sure it was real, just in case he was in the midst of an alcohol induced dream.

When Iwa pulled back, his eyes were hazy as they stared into yours, hands rough and warm against your cheeks. He dipped in again, stealing one more before letting go, and Oikawa wrapped your hair around his fingers, guiding your face around so he could get his.

That kiss was heavy with unspoken emotion, needy and hot and you reached up behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing back into him to get closer. His arm wrapped around your stomach, hauling you into his lap and when he pulled away, he was panting. It didn’t stop him from diving in several more times, moaning at the taste until he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed and lips swollen.

“I love you, princess. And not just as one of my best friends,” he whispered, his thumb rubbing your stomach through your shirt. You gasped at that, eyes misting over as you stared up at him.

“I-- really?” you whispered, and he chuckled at the disbelieving tone of your voice.

He nodded, and Iwa distracted you by taking your hand and lifting it to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn and then pressing your palm to his cheek. “I love you too, _____, if that’s okay.”

“W-Wait, I don’t-- I don’t want to choose between you,” you breathed, and they snickered at the panic in your voice. Dumbfounded, you fell silent, looking between them and waiting for an explanation.

Pulling your hand down, Iwa set it in his lap, stroking the back of it with callused fingertips. “You don’t have to choose between us, if you want both of us. We’ve already talked about it.”

“When?” you asked, overwhelmed by the information. Your two best friends, both of whom you’d managed to fall in love with over the course of the last few months, were confessing they both loved you and both wanted to be with you. It was almost too much.

Iwa colored red while Oikawa snickered again, turning your face to him again. “Last night, actually. Speaking of which, what were you talking about that happened last night?”

It was your turn to be embarrassed, and you hid your face in his neck, mumbling it to him.

“You tried to kiss him?” Oikawa laughed, rubbing your back. “Oh, _____, you little minx.”

“Shut up,” you whined, smacking him in the arm.

He continued to laugh at you, locking eyes with Iwa again. He looked amused, his cheeks still faintly pink but the smile he was wearing was so beautifully genuine that it almost hurt to look at, and Iwa’s words from last night flashed back to him.

Of course I do. For both of you.

His eyes dipped down to Iwa’s lips and, when he looked back up, he was wearing a knowing smirk. He shifted you slightly to the side, keeping you steady with an arm around your waist, while Iwa scooted forward. His knee pressed between yours as he leaned forward, cupping Oikawa’s cheek before his fingers slid up into his hair.

Your mouth fell open as he pulled his head down, slotting his lips against Oikawa’s. It was tentative at first, testing the waters, but then Oikawa’s fingers curled into his shirt and tugged him closer, groaning into the kiss.

Their pupils were blown wide with wonder when they pulled apart and, when they looked back to you, they found you wearing the widest grin imaginable. There was a pause where no one said anything and then Oikawa pushed you into Iwaizumi and threw himself on top of you. Iwaizumi grunted at the impact as his back hit the couch while you laughed loudly.

“You fucking brat,” Iwaizumi snapped without malice, while you wiggled around trying to get Oikawa off of you. He fell to the side between you and the couch, and Iwa held you to his chest, hand rubbing your back.

Oikawa braced himself up on his elbow, gazing down at the two of you with a bright smile, radiating happiness. He finally understood the ache that had sat in his chest since he announced he was leaving for Argentina, the fierce longing to see you and touch you ever since you had arrived explained by the fact that he was unconditionally in love with you. He wondered how he had only realized it after he left, when the signs had been there for a lot longer than that. Maybe he had simply taken what he had already for granted, or maybe he had just been blind to it.

Knowing him, it was probably both.

Your eyes had closed, listening to the steady beat of Iwa’s heart in your ear, but you suddenly jerked up, looking excited.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriends? Everyone is gonna freak,” you said, and Oikawa snorted and burst into laughter. Under you, Iwa groaned, clapping his hand to his forehead.

“You are unbelievable, _____,” he huffed, but he was smiling again, and you could see he was trying not to laugh. “But yeah, I guess you can. I will revoke the right if you abuse it, though. Both of you.”

Oikawa’s eyes lit up at that, and a mischievous smirk lit up his face. “Wonder what we’d have to do to make that happen.”

“Oh, no. I am not gonna risk that,” you said, pushing his face away as he leaned forward. “I just got the right, I’m not gonna lose it already.”

“You’re no fun, _____,” he pouted, grabbing your hand. He kissed your palm, listening to you giggle at something Iwa whispered into your ear. “Already keeping secrets from me, hm? I’m not sure you--”

“I love you, Tooru,�� you said, and he sputtered and turned bright red, dropping your hand in favor of covering his face with his, whining in the back of his throat. You burst into laughter while Iwaizumi snickered, high fiving you.

“Why are you two so mean to me?” Oikawa asked through his fingers, though he was grinning hard enough to hurt. His heart thumped in his chest at what was probably an unhealthy rate for an athlete of his caliber, but if he died of a heart attack right then, he’d be alright with it.

It was Iwaizumi who answered, pulling his face down into his neck. Oikawa went willingly, listening to the deep timber of his voice as he said, “You didn’t really think anything would change did you, Brattykawa?”

“Well I had hoped, since you love me and all,” Oikawa admitted. He was starting to feel tired again, his eyes heavy as he soaked in the warmth of your hands on his back and Iwa in general.

“Nope,” you said, popping your lips on the ‘p’. You settled yourself on Iwa’s chest again, pushing your fingers through Oikawa’s hair. He seemed to purr at that, murmuring as he snuggled closer into Iwa’s side. “I could go for a nap.”

“Same,” Iwa said, proving his point with a yawn. Tucking his arm beneath his head, he let his eyes close with a sigh.

Oikawa was already asleep, his breathing deep and even and warm against Iwa’s neck, and he thought you were too until you murmured a sleepy, “I love you too, Haji.”

His lips ticked up, his heart skipping a beat at the quiet confession. They were words he had been longing to hear for a longer time than he cared to admit, and he sighed again.

“Love you too, princess. Now shut up so we can sleep.”

⇥ masterlist

⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous

#iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader x oikawa #.365days #.lmhisj

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may-day-voice · 3 years

Text

Prom Night Lights - The Beginning

Katsuki Bakugou Timeline | 172732014

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/8SB9fJZ5a7s

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1112396862-katsuki-bakugou-pro-hero-au-172732014-prom-night

It was supposed to be a simple day. A simple, normal day filled with anticipation and excitement. The day when you stepped into the real world outside from the safety net. But you never prepared for what was to come, for the hurt that would inflict, for the dark to overshadow.

You weren’t prepared for your heart to break.

You grabbed hold of hands that grasped onto your fingers, hanging upside down in the air while maneuvering yourself a safe distance from the crash site. Out on patrol with fellow interns turned into a rescue mission when a massive traffic incident occurred in one of the most populous intersections in Musatafu. Cars and trucks were mangled or destroyed, billowing smoke into the air while emergency personnel made headway in tending to the wounded.

Meanwhile you floated towards the borders of the intersection, carefully dropping a casualty towards medics on the scene. Your hands were covered in blood and soot, having to pull those who were trapped within the metallic wreckage.

“That’s number three,” you called, still dangling aimlessly in the air.

“Impulse! We need help here!” Called a fellow intern from amongst the crash site.

With a click of your ankles, you landed onto the ground to push yourself back into the air, soaring towards your teammate above the fire and smoke. His large hands lifted part of a car, revealing a young woman in the crash, her eyes searching above while she breathed erratically.

“Don’t know how long I can hold this up,” warned your teammate, his usual stoic gaze now concentrating on keeping the mangled car lifted for access to the woman below.

“Here, grab my hand,” you ordered, floating slowly into the maw of the wreckage while reaching for the woman inside. The look in her eyes caught yours, finding the fear written all over them, terrified.

A slip of your teammate’s feet caused the car to creak, almost snapping onto you from above, your hands immediately pushing against the heavy wreck in reaction. Your eyes searched in his, concerned about the situation only to notice he found his footing again.

“I’m okay,” he reassured, holding the car back once more. “Go.”

You drew back to the woman, spotting her body recoil back inside in fear. With a deep breath, you slowly floated back in, hanging upside down with your hands outstretched towards her. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” you coaxed, your open palm inviting her in.

Slowly, her shaking hand reached out, grabbing hold of yours. With both your hands securing her grip, you slowly floated out from the hole, taking the woman with you, her weight pulling at your arms before you spotted her feet clearing the maw.

“Let go now,” you called, watching your teammate finally relieve himself from the strain and the piece of metal crash into the wreckage that trapped a casualty.

Two hours. It took two hours to help clear casualties from the crash site. The aftermath left you and your teammates to be checked out by medics before being discharged from the incident, followed by your supervisor Kido back to the agency for a debriefing on today’s activities.

It felt like a quiet day, which was good for the most part. You scratched two hours of the day, plus another hour for debriefing and cleaning up. It allowed less strain on your body, and more focus on other events you had penciled in ever since-

“Man, you? A plus one? Lucky,” spat a classmate of yours inside the locker rooms. “I would kill to get past those gates.”

“You really don’t mean that,” you replied in jest.

“Oh no, I do. Truly, happily.”

“Have you figured out what you’re dressing in?” Spoke another, the same one who helped you on the rescue. “You should talk with him about that.”

“Coordination is key,” chirped the other.

“Guys, it’s a first time thing, okay?” You reassured. “They’re in the middle of graduating right now for all we know.”

“But to be invited to a prom of all things in UA? Whoever is the event coordinator is a genius.”

The vibrations of your phone caught your ear, spotting a text message appearing on your screen. A sneak peek of the message was the usual - an ETA for tonight. That was all. You noticed the messages were getting shorter and sharper with your beau. It has been over the past year. Still, being the final year in UA was probably a stressful time for students from across the board. You had felt the pressure yourself at your schooling.

“You think if I could catch Todoroki’s eye maybe-“

“Stopping you there,” interrupted one of your classmates, his drowsy aloof eye staring at the other. “He’s probably taken.”

“You don’t know that!”

“He talks about someone from his school very frequently. I think he’s taken.”

Another buzz from your phone caught your ear, checking the screen to spot a message from someone unexpected. Eijirou Kirishima’s name was emblazoned in the text box with a video attached. Watching your classmates bicker between themselves gave you the perfect opportunity for you to view this message without their attention, opening it to reveal the stage of the graduation. Perhaps this was very recent, considering the time of day it was before a familiar blond student walked up to the podium. You couldn’t hold back your smile, watching Katsuki Bakugou be congratulated on his graduation day, and turn irately towards the camera following Kirishima’s loud and rambunctious celebratory yell from the crowd.

“Did your beau send something juicy?” Chirped your classmate, turning to find a coy smile on her face.

“What? No!” You deflected, placing your phone away. “I gotta make tracks anyway.”

“You better take photos or it didn’t happen!”

You waved both of your teammates goodbye, hoisting your backpack onto your shoulders to add more weight to your less than convenient gravity. Stepping out of the agency, you tapped your toes before making your way towards the tall white gates of UA. Despite the lack of information you gave to your teammates back at the agency, you had already picked out your formal wear. You had planned to make a day of UA’s graduation for their students, knowing your own from your establishment was happening first thing tomorrow morning. The more time you could spend with the city’s foremost Pro-Hero candidates equaled sacrificing one night of preparation for your graduation, at least you convinced yourself as such.

Everything had been planned ahead of time, thanks to your beau’s meticulous need for timing. However, you had other plans ahead of his own, ones you had announced to him during his plans which, to your dismay and unsurprising predictability, did not please him. Reassurance wasn’t his strong point, and you’ve learnt it wasn’t yours as well. At least when trying to ease his passive aggressive tantrums.

Another buzz of your phone caught your attention again from those thoughts, picking it up to find a text message from Izuku Midoriya of all people.

Can’t wait to see you again! You’re on the way?

Actually, I’ll be another 20 minutes. How was the ceremony?

It was great! Everyone’s excited here at the dorms. I’ll be setting up Gym Gamma for tonight, so meet me there?

And Kaachan can’t wait either.

You chuckled at the words, wondering how Bakugou must be feeling after today. It made you wonder about the months leading up to today. In fact, it seemed a bit odd, watching him at the agency being almost cold and aloof, answering you in short and distancing himself half of the time. Again, UA was a prestigious academy. You thought the same way that the stress must be getting to the students.

Further fact, that short text felt like-

Yeah, I’ll meet you at Gym Gamma. Let Bakugou know I can’t wait either.

Lately it had been this way, communicating with other students rather than Bakugou himself these past months leading to the end of the school year. You’ve heard from Midoriya, Kirishima, even Denki Kaminari spoke to you a few texts here and there. Bakugou however had gone dark some of the time. You recalled a few times in your second year having constant late night calls with him, some of those nights being a saving grace when the both of you were too busy to just stop for a coffee or a shake. But nowadays, he had been-

Hey! You coming over soon? Kaminari is practically begging for a player two on his team.

I’ll be there. Just stopping by somewhere first. Maybe another 25?

You better hurry up. Bakugou’s practically wiping the floor with him in this game.

Well, another thing to slot in, but nothing that detracted from your original plans. With a smile, you continued on your walk to UA, hands on your straps while you felt the strain on your shoulders once more.

——

Soon, the familiar white gates appeared. As per usual, you stood by the entrance, waiting for some time before being verified to enter the grounds. It took a while for this process. At first, you were accompanied by your beau when he came along to invite you, or when he had to make it for Management classes. However, over the years, it became an infrequent visit with the Hero students. Lately though, it was between how quickly the guards could phone a friend. Even more so, it was less your beau, and more so one of the Hero students, whether it was Midoriya, Kirishima, or even Shouto Todoroki of all of them. It used to be Bakugou, but even he had been slow to answer.

After being granted entry, you immediately made your way to Gym Gamma, watching the large group of students prepare for the night. You had not seen so many fairy lights in your life while they were being strung up high across the pathways and into the auditorium. It was a mess, but it was organized chaos while you traversed between wandering students and piles of decorative materials for the festivities to follow.

“Midoriya!” You called from across the auditorium, spotting the green-haired boy ahead. His eyes turned towards you with a smile, lightly jogging his way through the auditorium.

“Hey, how are things?” He asked with a hug, his large arms engulfing you.

“Pretty good, we were in the middle of a rescue mission in the city,” you replied with a smile. “But that’s all the excitement today.”

“You’re not excited about tonight?”

“I mean, yeah, of course I am! Congratulations! Think I can collect my clothes?”

“Oh, right, I don’t have them on me because of everything happening right now, but they’re at Heights Alliance.”

“Then, why did you ask me to come here first?”

“I wanted to say hi.”

You chuckled at his reply, happy to see Midoriya well. There had been some controversy with all that happened throughout the years, things that you felt were considered taboo, however, stories came with time. You noticed the extra scars across his body, also recalling the scars Bakugou had received during Musatafu’s darker times. The worry that drowned you was immense, only subsiding after months of silence, and that one phone call from Todoroki surprisingly.

With a goodbye, you left Midoriya to his devices in the auditorium, leaving him behind for Heights Alliance. Eventually both shoulders felt sore from the weights in your backpack, deciding to only hang the bag from one shoulder and feeling your toes scraping the ground. According to the predetermined ETA, you had a few hours to spare. Still, it felt like you had very little time left until you stood before Class 3-A’s dorms. Midoriya had explained he left your formal wear with Bakugou, who by his description of the event, reluctantly agreed. With a heavy sigh, you made your way up the stairs, only to bump into somebody walking out from the dorms.

“Oh sorry!” You blurted.

“No, you’re good!” Quickly piped the student before they walked away from the stairs, lightly jogging towards the large pathway towards the school. You watched them take flight, trailing with a dress suit on their shoulders only to shrug it off and continue into the dorms, knocking on the door.

Luckily, that student left it ajar.

“Hello?” You called inside, spotting very familiar faces by the lounges in the foyer.

“Yes! My player two!” Yelled Kaminari, quickly running up to you and pulling you inside. “Kaachan keeps whipping my ass!”

“That’s because you suck, Dunce face!” Growled Bakugou, his red eyes flashing towards the door before they laid on you.

“You made it just in time. Kaminari was getting desperate,” voiced Kirishima with a toothy grin.

You nervously giggled while being dragged inside, noticing how careful Kaminari was to keep your feet on the ground. It had been a couple of years now, but ever since that scare, you figured Kaminari had learnt his lesson. Otherwise, by the way Bakugou was, it came as no surprise that Kaminari was just being more careful around him. You smiled at the irate blond before Kaminari handed you a controller, soon convincing Kirishima to join in a game of teams. It was a whirlwind of a greeting, suddenly being sucked into a game of wits and fun with the Hero students. It was the release you needed filled with laughter, for at least a good hour losing to Kirishima and Bakugou.

After admitting defeat and a quick conversation with the students, Bakugou led you to his dorm, taking the elevator up to the fourth floor. The ride was silent, leaving you to wonder what was going on through his head, stopping yourself a few times to speak until the doors opened on his floor. From the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar dual-haired student speaking with another by the stairs with quiet voices before being led to Bakugou’s door, watching Bakugou unlock it-

“Congratulations,” you finally spoke, catching his ear. “I got to witness your graduation, kinda.”

“What do you mean?” He asked gruffly while allowing you in.

“Kirishima sent me a video.”

“That Shitty Hair sent it to you?”

“I thought you knew.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Please don’t.”

A grunt escaped Bakugou’s lips before he made his way to his closet, pulling out your outfit already packed in a large box. You smiled up at him, taking the box from him and placing it on his bed.

“Thanks Bakugou, I really appreciate it,” you warmly said while you opened the lid.

“What are you doing?” he asked with genuine confusion.

“Getting dressed.”

“Here?”

“Well, Midoriya offered to help but since he’s been put on the event committee I have to do it in your room.”

“So the nerd was going to dress you?”

“Do you want to help me?”

The look on Bakugou’s face was one of confusion, anger, and frustration - a fairly normal reaction for the most part. However, unbeknownst to you, he felt a flush of heat wash through his cheeks. This was never discussed between Midoriya and himself when he agreed to hold onto your outfit for tonight. In fact, the getting dressed part was never mentioned. His thoughts held his focus until he glanced your way, already stripping off your shirt.

“Wait a goddamn minute, Lightweight!” He yelled, stopping you from stripping any further. “At least, let me turn my back on you.”

You soon found Bakugou’s back indeed turned to you, looking out his window instead. You couldn’t help a small giggle before you walked up to him, grabbing hold of his wrist. “I just need your hand on my shoulder,” you reassured, placing his hand across the crook of your neck. “Just ground me. I won’t take long.”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, but still kept his eyes outside of his room. Every movement you made caused his fingers to slip on your skin, feeling the tension in your muscles. He figured you had that backpack on for some time to keep you from flying away, but he also felt something else other than that. The short amount of time you spent with everyone downstairs gave him an odd feeling. Even the elevator ride up to his room was tense. Bakugou knew he hadn’t been keeping contact whether at the agency or on call, but today he saw something that you wanted to say.

It bothered him.

“Okay, you can let go now,” you said, allowing Bakugou to release his fingers and turn around to see you now fully dressed in your attire. What surprised him the most was that you were on the ground without any apparatus to hold you.

“Bracelets,” you explained, showing off metallic braces on your wrists. “And anklets. It took a while for support to come up with something practical for social outings.”

“Um… you look… good,” he complimented, taking you by surprise.

“Thanks, I’m glad you think so. Anything that’s good for Lord Explosion Murder-“

“Shut it with that name! It’s Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!”

You giggled again, finding the joy of pushing his buttons sometimes before you noticed the time - close to the ETA.

“I’ll see you tonight, God Dynamight?” You asked with a smile. All you received was a scoff, enough of a response from Bakugou before leaving his dorm room and heading for the elevators. On the way, you walked past Todoroki, greeting with a quick hello before disappearing into the elevators, eager for the night to start.

Bakugou couldn’t stop this feeling that had him aloof and frustrated. He had tried to tell himself otherwise, focusing on his studies and his credentials to become a certified Pro-Hero. But with every phone call, every text, every passing moment he saw you, something stirred. It felt good, but it was wrong. You were with someone else - that Management student - that he knew did not treat you with the respect you deserved. The number of late night phone calls were proof of that, and yet, you still stayed with the man.

He couldn’t fathom your choice. And he hated it.

“Are you busy?” Asked Todoroki by his open door.

“Does it look like I’m busy?” Spat Bakugou.

“No.”

“What is it, Icy-Hot?”

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Bakugou eyed the dual-haired man, filled with anger from his thoughts, but silent without a scoff or a grumble. “What’s it to you?” he questioned with a sneer.

“We all know he’s bad news,” continued Todoroki. “Nepotism at its best.”

“Look who’s talking Half-and-Half, son of the Number One.”

“The point is that he’s rotten, never worked a day in his life, and was given a silver spoon. All signs of an arrogant, spoiled, hand-fed individual. And he doesn’t deserve them.”

Bakugou turned his glare onto Todoroki, noticing the seriousness in his eyes before he walked away from the door, leaving Bakugou with his last words. The blond stood in his room, contemplating on Todoroki’s words and the number of conversations to and fro about this feeling. He knew that the Management student was a bad egg, someone undeserving, yet he knew he couldn’t actively try to convince you. Even though he had time and time again called your beau a moron, it wasn’t enough.

For once, he hated not being direct over these years.

He grumbled while he rummaged through his closet, pulling out the outfit Kirishima had picked out for him for tonight. Perhaps seeing you later would ease the tension headache that persisted.

——

Night fell across the sky with the dying light of oranges turning into purples and the stars twinkling in the clear. The number of students that made their way to Gym Gamma came in waves, including the Hero students who came as a group. Despite his friends trying to persuade him to join, Bakugou advised he needed some time to get ready, earning a teasing jeer from Kaminari. Bakugou cared less about what words were shared, preferring to keep himself hidden after a majority of students had made their way to the prom planned for their graduation.

He was left to his thoughts, hoping that you had already made your way to Gym Gamma with your date for the night. He didn’t want to see that picture of you in his arms, knowing you chose him. That frustration brewed, coming to terms with his want of asking you to the event for months, and not going through with it.

After some time to his thoughts, Bakugou made his way, walking alone on the grounds of Heights Alliance. The quiet was deafening despite the loud music catching his ear ahead in the auditorium. He felt trapped in this emotional limbo, desperately needing to do something to satiate his need to see you. Pulling out his phone, he located your number, immediately texting without any hesitation.

I’m expecting a dance.

He smirked, feeling some sense of pride in himself, and hopefully reprieve from his own emotions until the sound of a phone caught his ear, one that immediately received a text. Bakugou stopped, turning towards the entrance of the school lecture halls, past the shoe lockers that lined the room. The closer he made his way, the louder the sobs, finding your cries echoing in the empty halls.

“Lightweight?” He called, catching your attention before you quickly tried to wipe away the tears that stained your cheeks.

From around the corner of the stairwell, you found him climbing towards you, his red eyes glaring at the sight of you sitting on the stairs, leaning underneath the railings.

“What did he do?” He quickly snapped.

“Nothing,” you spoke through your tears, attempting to calm yourself down. “He did nothing.”

“Like hell he didn’t!”

“No, Bakugou, just-“

“I’m gonna kill him.”

You saw a rage unlike anything you had seen in the blond. Despite your emotional state, you had gotten used to Bakugou’s anger, even understood it. But this was almost unspoken of, seering through his very core. Bakugou lost control. His own emotions spilled upon seeing you torn and worn, used and spat out as opposed to how happy you looked hours ago. Whatever frustrations he held, they were unleashed with a furious rage.

“He broke up with me,” you admitted, gaining Bakugou’s attention from the whirlwind of emotions he felt. “He didn’t want me to drag him through the mess that I am. I didn’t save enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t-“

You held your head in your hands, trying to keep the tears at bay until you felt large hands grab hold of yours, pulling them away to reveal yourself to Bakugou, his eyes glaring into your red sore ones.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Asked Bakugou, his voice painted with a calm tone despite his gruff voice.

“… am I a Hero?” You asked, sniffling while your eyes looked away from his. “Am I good enough?”

Bakugou was surprised and yet confused by the question. He was still trying to understand his own feelings, this abrupt need to protect you everywhere you went despite your own independent and wayward nature.

“Five. I only saved five in two hours,” you continued. “And there were more bodies-“

You stopped your breath, holding your tears back from the thought, before the realization dawned on Bakugou. He had kept up with the news recently, a way to pass the time while waiting in his room earlier that night. An incident occurred in Musatafu involving multiple cars in a massive crash, and he recalled the body count.

He held onto your hands tightly, now realizing your hesitation to speak or start conversations. It would’ve been at the forefront of your mind, only masked by the smile you had all day for UA’s graduating classes. The next thought to follow left a bitter taste, wondering what that Management student must have said to you to think this way. With what Todoroki and he had discussed earlier that day, Bakugou could only fathom the disgusting nature of your interaction with someone who looked down at failures.

Tears continued to well up in your eyes. They wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t until you felt a large pair of arms hug you close, pushing you against the stairs but closer to his chest, engulfed in his embrace.

“You’re more than good enough,” whispered Bakugou in your ear, comforting your head against his shoulder. “You don’t need my approval or anyone else’s for that matter. You make that choice for yourself. You’re smart, you have common sense, half the time, and… you’re one of the few people I can talk to.”

He pulled you away, his eyes now glued back on yours while you stared into his, swallowing the words you just heard moments ago.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he slowly started. “You deserve better than that trash. You know I already call him a moron, because he is one. You-“

“You ground me,” you interrupted.

“What?”

“You’ve always grounded me Bakugou. You’ve kept me close. You’ve always looked out for me. Why?”

Bakugou choked, wondering what to say, almost feeling like he was cornered, surrounded by the emotions that had been drowning him for months. Was it right? Was this the moment?

“I’m sorry I asked,” you quickly quipped, trying to stand before you felt yourself pull back into Bakugou, his lips crashing into yours. It was a light kiss, despite the rush into it, almost hesitant on its touch before you eased into his rhythm. He was warm, tender, and it lit a spark that you wished would never stop while you held onto his neck. He pulled away slowly, caressing your cheek and embracing your breath on his, feeling every part of you while you sat by the stairs.

“You’re worthy to be a Hero,” whispered Bakugou. “And I’m proud to have you stand with me out there.”

“I’m worthy to be next to God Dynamight?” You asked with laughter breaking through your tears.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and laugh.”

Whatever sadness that broke your heart was mended in that moment, by none other than Bakugou of all people. Still, for all those moments the both of you shared, you felt a bond with him, one that incited jealousy from a growing toxic partnership. He was an explosive light that brightened the dark. He was the warmth that healed the pain.

“Still, the God Dynamight will always keep me grounded,” you continued with a smile. “Starting from zero.”

“Just call me Katsuki, dumbass,” he inferred with a growl, causing another giggle to erupt from you. “How about you come to my graduation prom with me, Twinkle Toes?”

Today was meant to be a simple day, but it wasn’t simple at all. It was more than that.

It was the start of something wonderful.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #bnha fanfiction #bnha au #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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tlcwrites · 3 years

Text

Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly. “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.

#writer wednesday #steve x bucky #stucky #steve rogers fic #pride #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #love is love #happy pride #steve rogers x bucky barnes #platonic reader #my writing

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sincerelychifuyu · 3 years

Text

cat! (a whisker away au)

kazutora x gn!reader

– 1681 words

– hurt/comfort

– not proofread

note: i didn't exactly follow the whole plot and scenes of the movie and the ending was rushed

story belows the cut! hope you enjoy!

“you like him, right?”

“huh?” you stopped walking and turned you head only to meet a cat who was sitting upright, you titlted your head as you pointed your index finger towards the cat and asked, “where y-you talking to me...?”

to simply answer your question, the cat nods, “mhm! you like him, kazutora, right? and you know he likes–no, loves cats, am i right?”

you didn't wanna question any further so you wouldn't complicate the situation more and simply said, “yeah! he has told me multiple stories about the cats he's taking care of... yeah...” your voice slowly getting lower at the end of your sentence, you didn't even know why you were telling a literal cat about your liking towards kazutora. but it wouldn't hurt, right?

“well, [name], would you kindly accept my offer–you give me your mask and i'll grant you the power to be able to transform into a cat anytime you want?” the cat grins, showing its sharp teeth, its eyes held a mysterious glint for a short amount of time and you would've missed it if you blinked.

you were willing to accept the cat's offer because you already have a plan in mind with what you were going to do first in your ˝cat form˝, but you were confused about one thing, “m... mask? what kind of mask exactly?”

the cat was well aware of your tone, it knows you were willing to accept the offer but still cautious, “i'd say it's similar to a human body,”

“h-ha–?!” you shrieked loudly which resulted in accidentally cutting off the cat's answer, “vessel for vessel, get it? if i offer a cat vessel, you offer me your human vessel. it's only a fair trade, do you not agree?”

“you have a point there...” you scratch your head and the cat explains more thoroughly, “simply shake my paw and that'll mean you accept my offer, if you need more time to think–”

“i need a week! give me a week to think!” you intertwine your hands together while show a pleading look towards the cat and it sighs, “...fine, just repeat the word ˝milk˝ three times and i will appear once your mind is made up,”

the cat was already preparing to leave before it stops and tells you, “if you do agree, you have five months before your human vessel is completely stripped away from you, there's no turning back and you'll be a cat for the rest of your life.”

you shivered at the thought of not being able to be a human again, “i see... i'll go now! bye...?”

“yam, you can call me yam. looking forward to our meeting again, [name]” the cat grins once again and dissapears out of thin air, as if it wasn't there in the beginning.

you continued your way back home and immediately laid down on your bed. you looked at your window to see the sun was setting down, you sighed and closed your eyes thinking about kazutora for the nth time that day.

‘would kazutora pay attention to me more if i was a cat?’ you didn't tell yam earlier that you had countlessly thought about turning into a cat just to get noticed by kazutora, but yam could have possibly knew about it hence why the feline offered you a cat vessel.

‘will it be worth it?’ you asked no one in particular and slept.

you woke up in a messy state. realizing you were late for the second time that week, you rushed with no second thoughts. quickly getting on your bike to get faster to school.

you saw your friends by the school gate and approached them full of sweat because of the exercise you recieved from your bike. you greeted them nonetheless and pretended you didn't hear them scolding you for being late.

you opened the door to your first class and saw kazutora sitting while doodling something. you went to your assigned seat which was next to his and asked, “oh! you're drawing a cat? as expected from you, kazutora.” you smile at him and your classmates cheer for you.

“thank you, [name].” he smiled back at you and you felt butterflies in your stomach. you were gonna do everything for kazutora even if it meant you had to give up your human vessel.

your week went smoothly. you thought about yam's offer for a few more days, five days to be exact. finally making up your mind, you repeated the word ˝milk˝ three times.

“oh? you finally made up your mind? it's not even a week yet.” the cat asks you, eager to hear your answer.

“yeah... i didn't think it'd take me just four days to make up my mind, too,” you looked away from yam.

“mhm, continue, don't keep me waiting for too long!”

“fine, fine! um, i'll accept your offer but...!” the cat extends its paw and grins.

you groaned and just told yam, “ok, i'm really, a hundred percent, completely sure that i will accept your offer!” you shook his paw and the next thing you new was that you passed out.

you woke up the next day, to eat breakfast and saw yuzuha at your table. “yuzuha? what are you doing here?” you neared the table and sat down. “i just wanted to visit you and since your door wasn't locked i went in!” she replied with a mouthful of cereal.

“hm, yeah but swallow before talking!” you giggled at her behavior and continued talking, “also, what day is it?”

“don't worry, today is saturday, i would have woke you up if we had school today.” you were thankful for yuzuha, you truly are.

you almost forgot about the agreement you and yam had yesterday and excused yourself, “wait! i'll go outside real quick i just need to do something!” yuzuha just nodded.

yam didn't tell you how to turn into a cat and you mentally cursed yourself for not asking.

you closed your eyes and pictured yourself as a cat, opening your eyes, you realized your vision look funny, you looked down and saw your paw.

you celebrated in your mind and ran to kazutora's house, he has invited you numerous times already. you went to the second floor, it was a little tricky but you were now face to face with kazutora's room window. you slid it open and was met with him drawing something once again.

you meowed so he could notice you, it looked like it worked because now kazutora was playing with you. you had lots of fun but you didn't forget you told yuzuha you'd be out ‘real quick’, you looked at kazutora's clock and went for a run to your house.

you opened the door and saw yuzuha watching a show, “i'm back!” you shout with the largest grin on your face.

“why do you look so giddy? where did you go to?” yuzuha raises a brow suspiciously and you just waved her off, “hmmm, nowhere in particular! by the way, you can leave anytime, just tell me! i'm going to my room.”

you went upstairs and squealed, you haven't even confessed to kazutora and yet you're already acting like he accepted your feelings.

it went on for months, you visited kazutora in your cat form and always spent time with him, cherishing the moments you spent with him even if you're just a cat.

you'll never forget the smile he sends your way, the sweet words that left his mouth, the way he takes care of you–you wonder if he'd do this if you were in your human form, you hope he would then you wouldn't have to visit him and rely on your cat form.

it didn't go unnoticed by you when you realized it was getting harder to transform back to your human form.

you didn't even realize that the five months you had before your human vessel was taken away from you was already over.

your friends put up missing person posters, you saw that they were grieving over you. you thought in that moment that you were so selfish, you didn't even think about the people around you and just accepted yam's offer just to get noticed by a person.

you didn't know what to do now and just weeped in the middle of a street. kazutora heard a cat meowing and walked towards it. it was raining that night but kazutora dropped everything just to cradle you in his arms.

kazutora's always like this, caring and kind, he may look like he doesn't care about anything at all but he's the opposite. that's what made you fall for him.

tears continued to fall at your eyes,

more,

and more.

you were now crying over kazutora, you were such a hopeless romantic, you were so stupid, so reckless, so careless.

“[name]...?” kazutora questioned.

your sobbing stopped and you slowly understood the situation you were in.

you have turned back into your human form–but how?

you could see from your peripheral vision the cat that offered you your cat form. you could see its grin but before you could ask something to the cat, you felt kazutora's hold on you go tighter than before.

heat went up to your face upon the realization that kazutora hanemiya, the person who you have the biggest crush on, is hugging you like there's no tomorrow.

“i thought i lost you.” kazutora whispered.

“i'm... sorry, kazutora. i shouldn't have done that.” you said as you hugged him back just as tight.

“it's alright, [name]. you don't have to apologize for anything.” kazutora suddenly backed away after he said that but both of your hands are still entwined, he continued, “well, now that's settled, do you wanna go anywhere?” kazutora grins and tilted his head, his earring jingling at the action.

“are you... asking me out?” you teased him and laughed. “you could say that.” kazutora replies and you froze.

“how could i say no when you're the one asking me that?”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers kazutora #tokyo revengers x reader #kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya #tokyorev fic #tokyorev x reader #gender neutral reader

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wholesomemendes · 3 years

Text

The Winter Ball Date

College/Friends to Lover Au

Summary: When one year you get asked to the annual Winter Ball by someone other than Shawn, the two of you realize what you’ve been looking past for years.

Author’s Note: Long time no see! This is part of Julia’s Winter Writing Challenge by @wondershawns and I am so excited to have participated! My setting prompt was “A knock on the window” and the line “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this”. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, I love hearing any type of feedback and I love you all x

Word Count: 8.4k

Presents, Christmas music, your mother’s famous cookies on your tongue, all playing one by one in your mind. The feeling of just being home again instead of in a small, stuffy dorm seemed so close, yet so far away and you couldn’t help but wish that this last month would fly by. A soft nudge to your foot broke you out of your thoughts, “What’s got you in a daze?” You blinked your eyes rapidly to focus your thoughts to the present once again, turning your gaze to the curly haired boy next to you with a bright smile on his face.

“I’m just thinking about Christmas and being home again,” you sighed dreamily, your head coming to rest on your hand.

“Christmas is over a month away, you’re better off worrying about finals if you’re thinking that far ahead,” he laughed as a hand came up to lightly push your shoulder.

You cast a harsh glare at him through the dim light of the library, “It’s never too early to start thinking about Christmas. Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited.” Shawn leaned back against his chair looking into space, “I get to go home and see family and I only have to worry about my sister instead of a bunch of rowdy frat boys.”

You let out a chuckle at his words, “Aren’t you also a rowdy frat boy?”

“You wound me.” He dramatically placed a hand over his heart, “Besides, I’m more excited to annoy you every day over break.”

“You already annoy me every day.”

“Maybe, but it’ll be much more convenient than me walking all the way across campus to get to your dorm.” You couldn’t lie that he did have a point there. The two of you had been best friends ever since the day your family moved into the house next to his in middle school. You had been inseparable ever since, choosing to go to the same college a few hours from your houses and meeting almost every day since you had joined as freshman. Three years later and nothing had changed, except for how tall Shawn had managed to grow in those years and how the both of you definitely had matured in both personality and appearance since you were in middle school.

“How fortunate for me then,” you laughed, turning your attention back to the abandoned textbook in front of you.

Shawn’s eyes remained on you, cocking an eyebrow your way, “What, you’re not looking forward to my random visits?”

“Oh no, I am so looking forward to being woken up in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep.”

“Hey that was only twice!”

“Two times too many if you ask me,” you mumbled under your breath, however the smirk on your face told Shawn that you meant for him to hear it. He simply pulled your chair closer to him and rammed his knuckles into your head until you were laughing and begging him to stop.

____________________

“You’re coming to the game tonight right?” You had found your way into Shawn’s bed after a full day of classes with your head on his chest, a random hockey game playing on the television across from the two of you. Shawn’s arm provided a comforting warmth as it laid across your stomach, pulling you into him, and each pass of his fingertip onto your skin made you relax further into him. The cuddling wasn’t anything new to the two of you, even the electric feeling you felt from his touch had almost become normal to you. Almost.

“Of course I am. I’ve never missed one, have I?”

“You’re right you haven’t,” he smiled down at you, a stray curl falling in front of his face, “Just wanted to make sure my good luck charm would be there.”

You reached up to brush his hair out of his face, but Shawn quickly grabbed your arm, playfully biting your finger until you pulled away and your wrist was left in his grasp. “I refuse to believe I’m your good luck charm.”

“We’ve been undefeated for three years, hun. You’re my good luck charm.”

“But-”

“Nope, shut it. Don’t want to hear a peep from you.” He pulled you tighter into him before placing a delicate kiss to your hair, “Remind me to give you my jersey for tonight. Want to make sure everyone knows whose good luck charm you are.”

“You’re such a goof.”

____________________

Shawn won. Again. It was no surprise, especially since the team they were up against were no good, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t incredibly proud of him. He absolutely amazed you every time he went out on the ice and you couldn’t help but wait impatiently in the main corridor of the arena. Students rustled around you as you waited though you paid them no mind, simply choosing to admire the banners on the wall instead. The sudden increase in noise caused you to turn your head towards the locker rooms where a certain curly-headed boy was leading a pack of freshly showered athletes. You sprinted past the crowds of people in his direction as Shawn dropped his bag, opting instead to pick you up in his arms as you ran straight into him. You wrapped your legs around him like a koala with your head buried into his neck, breathing in the strong, heady scent of his shampoo. “There’s my good luck charm,” he sighed into your hair and you laughed, only causing a brighter smile to form on his face.

“You were incredible, Shawn. You’re constantly impressing me out there.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, lifting his head to look you in the eyes, “Always means the most coming from my number one fan.”

You flashed him a smile that mirrored his as he slid you down to the floor, making sure that you were always close to him even while others were surrounding him. Your eyes stayed trained on him and the aura that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. They followed the path of his jaw, his neck, to his broad shoulders he always made you massage for him. But before you could finish admiring him, you felt a presence behind you and a slight grasp on your arm. You turned only to be met with a tall figure with beautiful green eyes and dirty blonde hair. He seemed to be about Shawn’s height, maybe an inch shorter, and although his smile wasn’t as bright as Shawn’s was, it still managed to take your breath away for a moment. “Hi, I’m Grant,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand for you to grab, “Are you Shawn’s girlfriend?”

You turned your focus back to Shawn who was currently in the middle of a conversation with a couple fraternity brothers and sorority sisters before coming back to this new mysterious man. “Oh no, we’re not, we’re not dating. We’re just best friends.” Grant seemed to have some distrust in his eyes at your words, his eyebrow lifting up slightly in question. “I’m Y/n by the way.” Grabbing his outstretched hand you let yourself appreciate the polite person in front of you.

“I’m sorry I assumed you’re dating. I’m in the frat with Shawn; we’re not good friends or anything but I’ve seen the two of you around in there.” Suddenly your mind clicked to where you had seen him before off of the rink. Most of the boys on the hockey team all resided in the same fraternity so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you to learn that you had been in the same house as Grant multiple times. “You two are really close, I can’t be the only one that has mistaken the two of you as dating.”

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, sparing a glance back at Shawn, “It happens a lot more than you think. But I promise we’re not. I’m as single as one can be.” Grant’s smile seemed to grow at your words and his shoulders relaxed an inch.

“Well in that case I actually wanted to ask you…”

“What’s going on over here?” A heavy weight slid across your shoulders, effectively pulling you into a warm body you immediately recognized. You rolled your eyes at the interruption. Perfect timing as always, Shawn.

“Nothing, just introducing ourselves to one another,” Grant replied, that smile that you were beginning to grow fond of diminishing slightly.

“Good, was worried that my good luck charm was switching sides.” Shawn sent a pointed look your way with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Good luck charm?”

“Why do you think we haven’t lost a game yet?” Shawn questioned, reaching out to pinch our cheeks, “It’s this little one right here giving me all the luck.” You swatted his hand away bitterly, but his smirk only grew. “Well I’m sure this has been great. Grant, I’ll see you later at the frat and you missy, we have a celebratory dinner to catch.” He maneuvered his way through the people calling his name, bringing you right to his classic jeep.

“You’re horrible you know that right,” you huffed as soon as you got into the seat.

“What ever could you be talking about?” he said innocently.

“If you keep acting like this, I’ll truly never get into a relationship.”

“You’re being silly.”

“Says the one that literally interrupted an entire conversation I had barely even started yet.”

“I was simply worried about you.”

“Mhm, sure.” You stared out the window in protest, not even moving when you felt his hand on your lower thigh.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you liked Grant. I was just looking out for you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I like him, I’ve known him for all of five minutes, but it would be nice to maybe explore some options without my personal bodyguard getting in the way.”

“Once again I’m sorry that I got in the way then. I guess Grant is not the worst guy you could have chosen out of the bunch,” he trailed off as he pulled into the diner parking lot the two of you had been frequenting at after almost every hockey game, “Now let’s put this behind us. I’m really craving some fries and a milkshake.”

____________________

The brisk wind of the courtyard made you tighten your jacket around yourself in a poor attempt to keep the chills away. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once you rounded the corner of the lecture hall you had previously been in, leading you through a row of buildings that temporarily protected you from the harsh weather of Toronto. You kept your eyes trained in front of you, desperately trying to will your feet to somehow move faster to get you to Shawn’s frat house for your usual post-class wind down.

“Hey Y/n!” You whipped your head around to see the source of your name, but after coming up empty handed in the small crowd of students behind you, you shook your head, convincing yourself you just imagined it as you continued your walk. “Y/n, wait!” Pausing this time, you turned your body around completely only to be met with the sight of Grant maneuvering his way carefully around the other students. Upon seeing you stopped, his face light up and he started to jog his way towards you until he was close enough for you to feel some of his body heat. “Hey.”

“Hey, Grant. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. Sorry to catch you at such a bad time, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you again,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I also didn’t want to wait too long to ask this because I was afraid I’d miss my chance.”

“What’s going on?”

“Are you going to the Winter Ball with anyone?” The Winter Ball was the annual end of the semester party Shawn and Grant’s fraternity held every year that was incredibly exclusive. The only way to get in was if one of the members took you as their date, which meant that almost every girl was dying for someone to ask her.

At that moment your gaze fell to the beautiful bouquet of red roses that were present in his hands before your eyes lifted to meet his that were so full of hope and nerves. “As of right now I am not. Why do you ask?”

“That’s great! I mean, that’s not great that you’re not going with anyone, but great because I, um, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go with me?”

You flashed him a bright smile as he handed the bouquet towards you, “I would love to go with you, Grant.”

“Really? That’s, that’s amazing. I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a quick hug before moving the other way, “I hate to leave right away, I’d love to stay and talk, but I really need to get to class.”

You waved him off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah of course,” he began walking away until his eyebrows raised and he came back, “Wait, can I actually get your number?” You saved your number into the contacts of his phone and gave him a wave, heading your way back to the line of frat houses you were looking for. The butterflies in your stomach were doing front flips as you tried to will the humongous smile off of your face. A guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. A really cute, sweet guy just asked you to be his date to the Winter Ball. Never in a million years did you think someone like him would even imagine asking you to be their date yet here you were, the most delightful smelling roses in your hand and a fluttering feeling in your body. You hardly comprehended that you had already stepped foot into the frat house until you were opening the door to Shawn’s room and falling onto his bed next to him with a dopey smile on your face.

Shawn looked over at you questioningly from his phone, ‘What’s going on with the flowers and the face?”

“Shawn, you won’t believe it!” you practically squealed, turning onto your side, “Grant just asked me to be his date to the Winter Ball!”

“The Winter Ball?”

“Yes! Isn’t that the best thing ever! I’ve never been asked before!”

“What do you mean? You’ve been my date every year.” If you hadn’t been so caught up with the giddiness in your chest you might have been able to notice the fleeting look of sadness in his eyes as he spoke.

“That’s not the same though. I wasn’t really your date, we just went as friends.”

“Yeah, but you were still considered my date.”

“Still, it’s not the same thing.”

A small moment of silence took over the room before Shawn cleared his throat. “So...you said yes?”

“Of course I said yes, I’d be stupid not to.”

“Oh.”

You watched as he focused back on his phone, a tiny frown on his face that you could hardly notice, “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing. I’m glad you’re so happy about this.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mendes, what’s wrong?”

“Just wondering what I’m going to do about a date this year.”

“That’s what you’re upset about?” you looked at him incredulously, “Please, you’re one of the most sought after guys in this school. You could go up to any girl on this entire campus and none of them would even hesitate to say yes.”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” you scoffed, “What about Jessica? I’ve seen the two of you talking a lot at post game parties and everything. You two look like you get along.”

“Yeah, I could always ask her,” he sighed, “But Jessica isn’t going to drag me into my room at four in the morning asking me to sing her a song on the guitar so she can fall asleep.” He sent a teasing smile your way as he referenced your habit of pulling his hand through crowds of people until you got to his room when you felt too tired and wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m sorry, Shawn. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You thought for a moment, “I know! I’ll buy you pizza from your favorite pizza place! You know, the one across from the campus coffee shop where they put extra cheese on top.”

“That’s not my favorite pizza place.”

“But every time we go there you say…”

“I only say that because I know it’s your favorite pizza place.” His gaze fell soft upon you, “Don’t get me wrong it’s not bad, but I don’t have a favorite and I know you’re more likely to go there if I said it’s also my favorite.”

“Oh,” you looked down at your hands, “Well thank you.” Shawn hummed in response, his eyes traveling back to his phone. “You can still come over beforehand to get ready together like we always do.”

He let out a sad chuckle, “Don’t think Grant would much like that, honey.”

“That’s too bad if he doesn’t like it because it’s important to me that we get ready together and you’re the first person to see me all fancied up.”

Shawn swore he felt his heart stutter in his chest, “If you want me over, I’d be more than happy to get ready with you.”

“Perfect, it’s a date.”

____________________

You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt when you noticed that Shawn had been a little more distant with you in the past week. Your texts sat on delivered for longer, you were no longer going over to his room after every lecture due to him “being busy”, and the nightly FaceTime calls were no longer nightly. You blamed it on hockey practices piling up and finals getting closer but in reality, you knew that wasn’t the case. There was only a week until finals, and therefore the Winter Ball, when you finally ran into Shawn again on your way to a class, very obviously catching him off guard. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been really busy lately,” he told you, but you knew him long enough to tell that the way his eyes wouldn’t maintain contact with you was a telltale sign that there was more to the story.

“Don’t worry about it, just miss you is all. Did you find a date yet for the ball?”

“Oh yeah, I asked Jessica like you told me to.”

“That’s great! Are you doing anything later today?”

“Uh, I don’t know…”

“I’m going dress shopping for the Winter Ball if you want to come with me like you always do.”

“Uh…”

“Come on, Shawn, you’re not going to break tradition are you?”

He desperately wanted to respond with, “You already broke a tradition by ditching me without warning and going with Grant,” but he bit his tongue. “Sure,” he replied with a heavy heart, “I’d love to help you pick out a dress.”

“Yay! Why don’t we go right after class?”

“Ok, I can pick you up at three?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later, Mendes!” You left a searing kiss on his cheek before rushing off to class, leaving him staring after you longingly.

____________________

“Any ideas on what you want?” Shawn trailed behind you like a lost puppy as you skimmed your way through the many clothing racks.

“Not really. Just want something that says ‘Please don’t regret inviting me. I swear I’m a good choice.’”

He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips, “I don’t think you need a dress for that. You do that by yourself.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile, “Thank you, but I don’t know if everyone feels that way.”

“Well they should,” he mumbled, his fingers mulling over the beautiful items of clothing. A deep maroon, velvet dress caught his eye immediately and he pulled it out, examining it carefully before nodding his head, “Try this one on.”

“Hm,” you turned to look at him as he studied the dress, “Oh, that’s gorgeous. I’ll try it on if you want me to.”

He nodded his head before turning back to the dresses silently, not making any other comments as you looked around. Once you were satisfied with the dresses in your arms, you headed towards the dressing rooms, looking both ways to ensure that no one was around before pulling Shawn into one with you. He turned around as you changed; sure he had seen you in bikinis before and you were both sure that on more than one occasion when you were drunk that you had both changed in front of one another, but he still had enough respect for you to turn around whilst you put the first dress on.

The first one was a simple black dress with long sleeves that you thought would be nice for the cold climate that came with living in Canada and although it was flattering, it didn’t feel like anything special. You turned to Shawn with a sigh, “What do you think?”

Personally, from the second you told him to turn around, Shawn swore he had seen an angel. The way the dress hugged your curves had him twitching in his pants and he had to swallow thickly in an attempt to control his thoughts. “I, um, I mean you look beautiful. I like it.”

“Really?” you asked, admiring yourself in the mirror, “I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel special to me.”

“Why don’t you just come back to that one then. I think it’s really pretty on you.”

“Yeah, you’re right I’ll just do that.” Four dresses later and you still hadn’t found the dress for you. There was a dark green one that you didn’t feel complimented your skin tone well enough (Shawn begged to differ), a black one with a plunged neckline that went way too far down for your comfort zone (Shawn was glad he didn’t have to protest against that one, he didn’t particularly like the idea of all the drunk, disrespectful boys in the frat seeing that), another black one that went too far down your legs (even though Shawn argued that it would keep your legs warm), and a light blue one that didn’t really fit your feeling of winter (Shawn almost lost his mind when you had bent down in front of him in that one to pick up a loose string that had fallen off of it).

Finally, you had reached the dress Shawn had picked out for you, just as you were beginning to lose all hope of finding a dress. The moment you slipped it on you knew it felt different than the others: it fit you perfectly with a plunging neckline that showed just enough, the fabric wrapped along the middle to the bottom to accentuate your waist, your curves were shown in a way that it was flattering, but not too overwhelming, and the maroon color complimented your skin beautifully. You couldn't lie, Shawn had somehow managed to find the perfect dress for you. “Ok, you can turn around now.”

He slowly uncovered his eyes and faced his body towards you, his mouth immediately going dry at the sight of you. The combination of your body in the dress and the gorgeous smile on your face was kryptonite for him and he couldn’t help but wish even harder that he was the one who was lucky enough to be your date for the ball. He motioned you towards him, rubbing his fingers along the fabric of the dress in a way that sent your stomach flipping. “This the one?” he asked, looking up at you with bright doe eyes. You nodded slowly, watching him tug his bottom lip between his teeth. “Grant is very lucky to have you as his date, honey.”

You paused. The thought of Grant taking you to the ball instead of Shawn had completely escaped your mind and in that moment you regretted ever agreeing to changing your date this year. “Yeah, um, right, I hope he likes it.”

“If he has a brain in that head of his then there’s no doubt he’s going to be blown away by you.” He gave a gentle smile your way before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and tapping your hip lightly, “Now go and get changed so we can go cash out.”

You nodded your head as he turned back around, silently smacking yourself in the face for the sudden butterflies that were forming in your stomach. Since when did he have such an effect on you? And why was he doing it so easily?

The moment you got to the cash register, he immediately pushed you out of the way and gave his credit card to the cashier before you could even pull out your wallet. “Shawn, why did you pay for that? I was going to…”

“Calm down, honey,” he laughed at your outburst as he opened the car door for you, “Think of it as an apology gift for me not hanging out with you as much as I usually do this week.”

“But…”

“No buts, it’s already done.” The car engine roared to life and all you could think about while you sat in the passenger seat of his car was how you were going to be wearing a dress that not only did Shawn pick out, but also bought for you while you had to act like you weren’t constantly thinking about him as you stood next to Grant the whole night. Shawn had made sure that you were completely and utterly screwed.

____________________

“Are you almost done?” you heard Shawn’s impatient call from your bedroom. You were living in a larger suite with a bunch of other girls so you were lucky enough to have your own bathroom attached to your room. Shawn had gotten ready in the bathroom before you but you refused to look at him until you were finished as well, not wanting to ruin the surprise. So he sat out there waiting for you while you fixed your hair and makeup relentlessly, watching the time pass by ever so slowly.

“Give me one more second!” you called out to him, adjusting one final strand of hair. You checked your makeup one last time before opening the door, revealing yourself to a Shawn who was sat perched on the end of the bed, phone in hand.

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly, “Damn, you look just perfect.”

You willed the heat in your cheeks to go away, “Thank you. You don’t look half as bad yourself. Quite dashing if I say so.” It was true, he was wearing a simple black button up with black dress pants that fit to his thighs perfectly as he stood up in front of you. His outfit shouldn’t have looked as attractive to you as it did, maybe it was something about the way he had the top few buttons open to reveal the small amount of chest hair he was currently sporting or the way his hair was styled to perfection with your favorite curl hanging out in front, but your heart couldn’t stop fluttering at the sight of him. And then it dropped the moment you realized that you weren’t the girl that got to walk hand in hand with him that night.

“Before we go I have something for you.” Shawn turned towards his bag where he pulled out one single rose for you, “I know I’m not your date this year, but it felt wrong to break tradition. Besides, needed to make sure a beautiful girl like you got a flower in case Grant dropped the ball.”

You were suddenly extremely aware of how close he was to you, his nose almost touching yours. His eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment, so fast that you couldn’t even tell by the way you were so focused on his breath hitting your lips. “Thank you,” you whispered, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I definitely should have.” His eyes went to your lips once again, this time letting them linger slightly longer so you got the hint. Your hands were trapped holding the rose against his chest as his hands ghosted over your hips, fingertips teasing the fabric of your dress. Shawn tilted his head ever so slowly, nudging your nose with his until your lips parted with a breath.

The sound of your phone ringing broke the two of you apart in a hurry as though you were both afraid of being caught. You scrambled away from him, heading to your dresser to grab a hold of your phone, Grant’s name lighting up the screen making the guilt in your stomach grow. “Hey, Grant, what’s up?”

“Hey are you going to be here soon?” his voice filled your ear.

“Yeah, I’m leaving right now.”

“Perfect, can’t wait to see you.”

“Can’t wait to see you either,” your voice came out soft before you ended the call, bringing your phone down slowly to face Shawn. He had the same conflicted look in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher as he held eye contact with you.

He let out a deep sigh, picking up his bag that was on the floor, “We should probably go.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, but made no move to head towards the door.

Shawn came over to you, placing his hands in his pockets. “Grant’s waiting for you.” You nodded your head. “Jessica’s waiting for me.” You nodded once again. He let out another sigh, putting a soft hand on your cheek and a kiss to your hair, “We need to go.” You watched as he walked towards the door, looking back at you once he reached the doorway, and you had no choice but to follow suit.

____________________

Oh my god, I almost kissed Shawn. We almost kissed and we would’ve kissed if Grant hadn’t called me. Oh my god Grant. Why didn’t I think of Grant when I was with Shawn? Shawn’s my best friend, I can’t like him like that. Does he like me like that? Can you imagine if he liked me like that?

“We’re here.” You looked over at Shawn who hadn’t uttered a single word to you the entire way here and was already proceeding to get out of the car without you. The door slammed shut and you winced, not understanding why he was so angry about what happened. Did he really want to kiss you that bad? Your heart couldn’t help but beat faster at the thought of him wanting to kiss you, but you willed it away, instead choosing to clamer out of the car after Shawn and attempt to focus your thoughts on Grant who was without a doubt waiting behind that door for you.

“Shawn, wait up!” you called out as you ran after him, almost catching up to him as he reached the top of the steps before your heel got caught on the step and sent you tumbling forward. The second a squeal left your lips, Shawn’s arms were already around you, effectively saving you from a face plant on the concrete. You looked at him breathlessly, trying to compose yourself after what felt like a near death experience, “Thank you.”

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes. Even when he was combating his emotions he still cared so deeply about you.

“Yeah I’m fine. I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you though…”

“Y/n, there you are!” Grant opened the door, with a wide grin on his face, but upon noticing the position you and Shawn were in, his brows furrowed, “Are you two ok?”

“What?” you looked between the two of you, “Oh, we’re perfect. Just took a little tumble up the stairs is all.” Shawn pulled you up with an arm around your waist until you were stable on your feet before immediately retracting as though you were made of fire.

“Thanks for saving her man,” Grant told him, clapping his shoulder as he snaked an arm around your waist, “Jessica’s been asking about you in there by the way. Told her you’d find her when you got here.”

“Right, thanks.” Shawn awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before excusing himself to push past the two of you into the house.

Grant leaned in closer to you as you both watched Shawn leave, “Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about him,” you reassured him, “Why don’t we get something to drink?”

“Sounds perfect.” Grant took your hand softly into his, leaving a light kiss to your cheek and leading you into the noisy house.

____________________

It had been hours since you arrived at the loud, people filled house. You had barely seen Shawn the whole night; you thought you might have seen him and Jessica making out in a corner at one point, but the multi-color lights in the house didn’t exactly make picking people out of the crowd as easy as it usually was. You had spent the entire night with Grant attached to your hip, whether it was while you were getting a drink, talking to friends, or dancing, he was always right by your side. His hands were currently on your hips, chest pressed to your back and peppering gentle kisses to your exposed neck as you swayed in rhythm to the beat of the song blaring through the speakers. The two of you hadn’t kissed yet, but with the way the drinks were affecting you, you doubt that statement would stay true for long. You were nursing your almost empty drink, the description of the contents long forgotten, all you knew was that your body had a nice tingly sensation running through it and your head was feeling just foggy enough that you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were willing to make some decisions you definitely wouldn’t make sober. Grant pressed a longer kiss to the back of your ear before whispering into it, “Stay here. I’m just going to run to the bathroom.”

You nodded your head in his direction, taking the time to look around at the people around you. After waiting a few minutes for his return, you became bored and took it upon yourself to get yourself a new drink. You had been here enough that even drunk you knew your way to the kitchen so you easily maneuvered through the clusters of couples until you pushed open one of the entrances to the kitchen. No matter how much you desperately wished you couldn’t recognize the brown haired boy that was in there with you, there was no amount of alcohol that could make you forget his defining features. At the sound of the door closing, his head perked up to look at you and you became painfully aware of how the two of you were the only ones in there as you stared into his honey colored eyes. “Hey,” you breathed out, stepping closer until you were practically shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Hey,” he bumped your shoulder with his, “Long time no see.”

The loopy smile he gave you told you that he was also feeling the alcohol, but probably only as much as you; the man knew how to hold his drinks. “Whatcha doing in here?”

“Told Jessica I’d get the both of us something more to drink,” he motioned to the two cups in front of him, “What about you? Where’s Grant?”

“Bathroom,” you replied, leaning back onto the counter, “I got bored waiting for him out there.”

You lifted up Shawn’s hand that was resting next to you and began tracing the pattern on his fingertips. “What are you doing, love?” he laughed, the pet name slipping out as they usually did when he had some alcohol in his system.

“Playing with your hand.” You locked hands with him while he moved in front of you to make it all the more easier for you to continue your task. His large body trapped you against the counter, but you hardly noticed until his breath fanning over your face tore your attention away from his hand. “You’re very handsome you know,” you smiled, releasing his hand to run your finger over the light scar on his face, “So pretty.”

He let out a breathy laugh as he moved his now free hand to the counter to fully lock you in between his body, “That’s funny coming from someone who looks like those goddesses we used to learn about in school.”

“I don’t look like a goddess…” your voice trailed off, too occupied with outlining the features of his face.

“Yeah you do. Look like the prettiest one...what was her name again?” He smirked down at you, knowing Greek mythology used to be one of your favorite topics in school.

“Aphrodite?”

“Mhm, that’s the one. Swear you’re a real life Aphrodite.” He moved in closer to you, brown eyes boring into you and forcing your gaze back into them. He heard your breath catch in your throat as his nose touched yours, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...you’re just close is all.”

“I am close,” he whispered, biting his lip when he felt the hand you had on his jaw move to his neck. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if I kiss you right now?”

Your wide eyes batted up at him innocently from where he was towering over you, your heart absolutely racing, “I’d kiss you back.”

And with that his lips connected to yours feverishly, his body pressing to yours harder. His lips were soft and you could taste the alcohol from whatever drink he had been sipping on before that made him intoxicating. He licked tentatively over your bottom lip, practically groaning into your mouth when you immediately opened up for him. You tasted so sweet to him, so sweet that he swore he could easily become addicted to your taste. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a soft moan from you that made his grip on the counter tighten and his hips push against yours harder. You could feel a bulge pressing against your lower stomach and you couldn’t help letting out another moan that Shawn eagerly swallowed into a kiss. Pulling him closer to you by his hair, he took that as a sign to thread his right hand through the base of your hair, the other hand reaching down to harshly pull your leg around his hip. Your hips bucked against his as his tongue fought yours for dominance that you easily gave him.

Just as his hand was about to run up your thigh, the door to the kitchen burst open and Shawn swiftly moved completely away from you and back in front of the drinks he had originally come in for. You almost whined at the sudden lack of content, but the look of shock on the stranger’s face shut you up. It only took one look at your wide eyes and swollen lips and the sudden wrinkles in Shawn’s shirt for them to hastily exit the room with an apology spilling from their lips.

The second they were gone you made your way back to Shawn, who was breathing heavily as he stared at the counter. You placed your hand on his chin, bringing his face back to you. Using your thumb to swipe at a rogue smudge of lipstick that had transferred onto him, you looked at him carefully, swallowing thickly when he placed a gentle kiss to the pad of your finger. You looked him in the eyes for the first time since your heated moment and while you could only see what you believed to be lust in his eyes, he saw yours change from lust to fear and to what finally made his heart drop: regret. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, successfully dodging Shawn’s attempt to grab your arm.

“Y/n wait!”

“I’m sorry, Shawn.”

“Please!” was the last thing you heard before you shut the door to the kitchen and rushed through the crowd of people. Your breathing was becoming erratic the deeper into your thoughts you got until you felt you were on the verge of a panic attack with no one to save you.

“There you are,” Grant sighed relieved, causing you to jump when his hand wrapped around your arm, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Sorry, I was bumped around in the crowd and got lost trying to find you again,” you lied, trying to avoid his eyes.

“That’s alright, I’m just glad you’re here,” he smiled at you, his brows furrowing while his hand came up to your lips, “Hold on your lipstick is a little smudged.”

Your eyes grew ten times wider, “Um, I think I must have just messed it up while I was drinking or something.”

“Ok, do you want to go dance again?”

“Yeah, uh, that sounds great…” your eyes met a frantic Shawn’s as he searched for you in the crowd, “You know what, I actually think I’m going to go home.”

“What?” Grant asked, confused as he followed you through the people.

“I just don’t feel good all of a sudden, it has nothing to do with you I swear. You’re amazing, I just need to go.”

“Stay here overnight, don’t go home.”

“Grant, I don’t feel well.”

“I know, I don’t want that. I mean you’re gorgeous and everything, but if you’re not feeling well then obviously not. It’s just, I’m not in the right mindset to drive, it’s frigid out there, and a drunk girl all alone in an uber sounds like a horrible idea. So why don’t you just stay? I’ll sleep on the floor so you can sleep in my bed.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please, I just want you to be safe.”

Your eyes lingered over to wear Shawn was still watching you, this time with Jessica in front of him, obviously trying to get his attention onto her. “You know what...sure. I’ll stay.”

A bright smile formed on Grant’s face, “Perfect, let’s get you all settled then.” He grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs toward his room, Shawn’s eyes following you with a heavy heart.

____________________

The next morning you bumped into Shawn in the hallway as you were exiting Grant’s room wearing his clothes he had let you borrow to sleep in for the night. Neither of you said a word as you silently made your way past him and down the stairs towards Grant’s car while Grant came strolling out of his room with his classic smile on his face, having no clue how heart broken Shawn felt when he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

____________________

It had been a week since you last spoke to Shawn. Not a single message or interaction between the two of you. You didn’t know what you would say if you even had approached him, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to find out. Having to pack up your dorm for the semester gave you an excuse for not talking and a way to busy yourself to get your mind off of him. But no matter what you did Shawn Mendes was still hanging in the back of your mind, taunting you with replays of different moments with him over and over again. You were lucky that this time you hadn’t been planning on driving back home with him so you didn’t have to face him on the hours long drive back, though you knew that didn’t mean you wouldn’t be seeing him at some point upon your arrival. All these thoughts were swimming through your head as you pulled into your parent’s driveway, immediately being met with a swarm of greetings from your family. You seemed to have arrived before Shawn, which you felt incredibly fortunate for as you were ushered into the house.

You didn’t see Shawn the whole first week you were there either, no matter how much your heart ached for him. You found yourself more often than not wondering what he was doing just next door and if he was thinking about you too or if you had already become something unattainable and therefore not worth his time. Even though you knew he wasn’t that type of person, the little devil on your shoulder kept telling you that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

Christmas Eve you were tucked into your bed, soft breaths coming from your mouth. The snow was coming down in light, fluffy flakes, just enough that it was the pretty white Christmas you always loved without the terrible snow storm you couldn’t stand. The first knock on your window sounded like the wind, but the second one was unmistakable, abruptly pulling you from your sleep and to the window. A gasp escaped your lips when you saw Shawn’s face staring back at you and you hurried to open your window for him. “Thank god,” he chuckled, “It’s freezing out there.” Shawn had been climbing up the side of your house to reach your room since you were young, so it truly should have been no surprise to you that he was scaling it in the snow.

“What do you want, Shawn?” you sighed, already making your way back into bed as he followed you, “It’s two in the morning.”

“That it is,” he agreed, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you turned to face him, eyes only opening slightly in your sleepy haze.

He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.”

You shrugged his hand away, “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he whispered with his hand still lingering on your face, “My little Aphrodite.”

Your eyes shot wide open, your senses suddenly wide awake, “What’d you just call me?”

“My little Aphrodite.”

You sat up next to him. “Ok, Shawn, what do you want? Why did you come here in the middle of the night on Christmas nonetheless?”

“Can’t I just say hello to my best friend?”

“You haven’t said hello to your best friend in two weeks so that’s not a good excuse.”

“Don’t say that like you haven’t been avoiding me either,” he chuckled darkly.

“I couldn’t face you, Shawn!” you choked out, eyes beginning to well up with tears as you scooted away from him, “I couldn’t, not after....not after that night.”

There was a heavy silence for a moment before Shawn spoke harshly, “Why’d you hook up with Grant that night?”

“What?”

“Why’d you hook up with Grant?”

“I didn’t hook up with Grant,” you spat out, “Why would you even think that?”

“You really expect me to believe that after I saw you not only go upstairs with him, but also leave his room the next morning wearing his clothes!”

“I do expect you to believe it because nothing happened! I wanted to leave after what happened because I didn’t want to be in the same room as you anymore and he offered me a place to stay since it was cold and I was drunk. Nothing. Happened.”

“You didn’t want to be in the same room as me? Wow.” He shook his head, leaning back against your headboard on the other side of the bed, “One second I have your leg around me, moaning in my mouth, and the next you’re leaving me without an explanation and now you’re going to tell me you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me?!”

“You don’t understand…”

“What don’t I understand?!”

“I couldn’t be in the same room with you after I realized something…”

“What did you realize, huh? What was so groundbreaking that you couldn’t even stand to see me?”

“That I was freaking in love with you!” Your mouth hung open. You had mulled over the thought of loving Shawn in the weeks you were apart, but you dismissed it every time, not believing you could have allowed yourself to fall in love with your best friend. Shawn stared at you with bated breath, his silence slowly killing you from the inside.

Just as you were about to hide under your blanket in embarrassment, you felt something warm covering your mouth and a hand in your hair, his lips moving softly on yours. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him eagerly to let him push you back onto your bed. He hovered on top of you, holding you close to him as he kissed you with every ounce of passion inside of him, stealing your breath away completely. His kisses were gentle, but still heavy with emotion. He parted from you to let you both catch your breaths, placing light kisses to your cheeks. “I am so in love with you, Y/n. You have no idea.”

He left one last searing kiss on your lips before pulling away and leaning off the bed to retrieve a small wrapped box. “I got you something for Christmas.”

You gingerly took the small box in your hand, carefully pulling off the paper to reveal a small black box. You looked up at him with curious eyes, but he only nodded his head for you to continue, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. Opening the box, a beautiful silver dove charm was revealed to you on a necklace, the light of your room catching off of it making it shine. “Shawn…” you breathed out, “it’s gorgeous.”

“It’s a dove. You know, the symbol of Aphrodite,” he smiled at you nervously, “Do you like it?”

“Of course, I love it. Put it on for me?”

Shawn pulled your back into his chest and brushed your hair out of the way to place the delicate necklace around you. Once the necklace was clasped, he left the softest of kisses to your shoulder. “There you go. Perfect for my little Aphrodite.”

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years

Text

Consolation + The “Talk”

Bio!Dad Bruce

Day 9: Consolation and Day 10: The “Talk”

@biodad-bruce-month

Ao3 ~~~ First ~~~ Previous ~~~ Next

This got a little long, sorry not sorry

~~~~~~~~~~

One week, one week has passed since Damian started school in Paris. One week since the tower of lies that Lila has built began to crumble and fall.

By the beginning of the next day she had backed off all her lies about the Wayne family but she just re-doubled all her efforts on lies that included Prince Ali, Clara Nightingale, and Jagged Stone. But the tower she had built was going to fall.

And Damian was ready to bring an end to this liar’s reign.

So you can trust that he would find a way to avenge his sister without the use of violence against her, especially in Paris, and especially knowing his father’s mantra of vengeance not revenge. But revenge is needed. So, Damian made a few phone calls. Over the course of the next week he would have enough video and audio evidence to prove his little sister is innocent. But what would really put the icing on the cake is if he could convince the principal to hold a career day or week. Granted it shouldn’t be too hard, he is the only blood son of Bruce Wayne after all. So, telling his sister that he would meet her after fencing practice he went off early in search of principal Damocles. He found the man quite simply and was it far too easy to convince the man to go to career day parents of the students will be able to come in to do you demonstrations or speeches as well as anyone else who they would like to invite.

---

Damian left for his fencing practice which left me packing up my things getting ready to leave. I was one of the last ones out so of course something had to happen. Adrien came up to me then “hey Mari can we talk.”

‘Sigh’ “If this is about the highroad again Adrien. Her lies are hurting people it doesn’t matter if you think it’s right, she’s hurting people’s futures their chances it…” He cut her off, great this is going wonderfully.

“It’s not that, well it is that but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” He was stumbling over his words and she softened her expression slightly “Marinette what’s the difference between infatuation and love?”

“What?” That was not what she was expecting. This is confusing, and where was this coming from anyways. Never mind why “can you explain it to me more I’m having a little trouble wrapping my head around the question.”

He had sheepish smile and started “I. I love ladybug but I’m not sure if I love her or what she represents more”

“You don’t know if you like the idea of her more than the person who she is?” Marinette asked him seeming to understand where this conversation was going.

“before we go even further down this rabbit hole, Adrien why don’t we meet up somewhere more private”

“why? “

Marinette simply pointed towards the door “We seem to have gained an audience”

There at the door was Alya filming but unknown to her someone else was behind her. “Bean we have to go” Alya you jumped at the sound of Tim’s voice.

“OK Tim I’ll be out just give me a minute,” Tim nodded and left Alya having scurried off when she was found out. “I’ll text you place and time to meet up and talk further that is if you’re still confused about your feelings about this girl”

“Sounds good and thank you Marinette” he whispered as she left the room. Once she got to the car she glanced at him oh no, was the only thing that went through her mind “you look like a cat who ate the canary Tim spill” she was moving in to tickle him to get the info out. “Fine, fine, fine I give I’ll tell, but” she shot him a look. “only if you make me some coffee, today feels like an all-nighter”

“Deal! Now spill”

“Damian set up that next week there is going to be career days for the entire week at the school.”

“Okay” she nodded her head understanding where her brothers’ train of thoughts were heading. “The career week will be the perfect opportunity to expose the rest of Lila’s lies. At least that’s what you and Damian are hoping to accomplish isn’t it.”

“Mari, you do know you’re my favorite sister” Tim replied with a smirk that would rival even Damian’s.

So, the two of them got to work. Damian may think he’s clever and the most discrete out of everyone, but he wasn’t able to pull off hiding the cameras and microphones well enough that Mari wasn’t able to figure it out. This means they are going to have plenty of video and audio evidence use against the liar.

Now when Damian got home from practice the three of them really set out to destroy the liar. With all the audio evidence as well as the footage proving it was Lila speaking Marinette made several phone calls.

Jagged and Clara were both on board completely and wholeheartedly, especially after hearing what was going on. With those two she called the principal and he had agreed to keep them as a special surprise for the last day.

She called her father and he was willing to fly out to speak on one of the first days. Her father also happened to be able to get into contact with Prince Ali, and once hearing of everything that was going on, he to agree to come and speak.

Damian had called the Kent’s so Lois Lane, Clark and, and Jon were all going to come to speak, well Lois Lane in Clark were going to speak, Jon was coming to hang out with his two best friends.

Once Mr. Kent heard it was going on well it wasn’t long afterwards for Barry Allen to come to speak about forensics science, Oliver Queen to speak further on different aspects of business, and several other members of the league who seem to have fallen in love with Mari.

Everyone knew that as soon as Lila saw the names on the list, she would be tempted to spread the lies about every single one of them, so they would continue to record everything that was said in the class.

And who’s to say that a couple of the heroes may or may not make an appearance was well, but it was to be determined if Lila lied about them or not. Within the hour the three Wayne siblings knew, oh they knew this liar would not have a chance to escape. And anyone left believing her by the end of the week, well they felt sorry for those poor souls who still believe her every word.

---

After about two hours getting our allies ready for the incoming slaughter of the liar I met up with Adrien. And that was different.

“Mari” Adrien seem unsure of how to start. We had we decided it would’ve been best to meet up at the Wayne Enterprises Paris branch that way we can have a conference room to discuss it somewhere private, I won’t have to worry about people eavesdropping. Well everyone except for my brothers but it’s a price I’m willing to pay. “This is the first crush I’ve ever had, I, I don’t know…”

“Adrien I’ve known you now for about a year. You are quite honestly still sheltered. Well that’s the best way I can describe it.”

“What I’m not! I’m no?” Adrien began to stutter because that was not where the conversation was originally going.

“Adrien you are still quite sheltered. The way you think things should be handles when it comes to lies or personal space is the same way that people deal with the paparazzi and those are not the same at all. But I’m saying that because it’s normal to be confused when it comes to a crush. I had a crush on you for the longest time and was unsure how to act on it. I got to know about you a bit more and the crush well it changed.” He was looking at me shocked by my proclamation.

“How? Why? What are you mean? I’m not.” Adrien seemed a little taken back before he finally decided what he was going to say. “You said had?”

“I had the biggest crush on you until I learned you were a coward, or what seemed like cowardace. You decided that someone you didn’t know was more important than the person you claim to be a friend. This past week has shown me that you are a pacifist, not a coward, but you strive for peace with everyone. but that’s not how everything goes. I learned that about you that’s what made me move on. So what is it about this girl that makes you stay or is there something about someone else who makes you want to stay with them instead?“ He was silent he wasn’t staring at me, but he was starting off into space. He seemed to not know exactly what to say, but the thought was there.

“Ladybug she’s my…” He was about to say something but stopped himself, almost as if he knows her as more than just the heroine. But that is not possible the only ones who interact with her while in the mask are now her family and…

“Your Chat Noir” she said it’s so calmly and as such a fact that he just stared at her calm and unblinking until the inevitable freak out which cost him to pass out. Great now she’s stuck at a conference room trying to revive her partner who doesn’t know she’s his partner. Once he finally came to, she just watched as it to make sure he wasn’t about to faint again.

“I’m not! I can’t be! I’m not superhero, that’s crazy Mari your” he was rambling. In the past month she has perfected the Batman Glare and well Adrien was getting it, because she was not believing the bullshit that was coming out of his mouth.

“Are you paws-itively certain about that Chat.” He went silent, but doesn’t know if it was because of the pun or because she called him Chat.

“How?” Adrien whispered to her.

“Well I figured it out since it seemed like you knew Ladybug more than just a hero.” She stated hoping that her identity was not compromised. “anyways Ladybug’s your partner but what were you going to say afterwards”

“she’s my partner and my best friend. She’s the person who may know me the best out of everyone, except I think that goes to you now” he began to chuckle, but it evolved into full-blown laughter and Mari couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“You know it makes a lot of sense of your Chat. Chat is always carefree and bubbly, but he always makes sure to keep it professional. Sure, flirting in the middle of the battle isn’t the best. But knowing Adrien and Chat Noir are the same person makes the whole so much more. What’s the word complete” she muses tapping her chin.

“Ladybug is the hero Paris deserves. But I don’t think I love her. I thought I did. I thought about this a lot, I love that when I was with her, I was free. I don’t know the girl underneath the mask. But I do you know the girl beneath the mask is strong and courageous. She is undoubtably amazing. But maybe you are figuring out my identity snapped things into focus, because I love the way I feel around her. But I also love the way I feel about my friends. Thank you, Mari.”

“For what I haven’t said anything this was all you.”

“Exactly, I needed someone to hear me, and not force me into a conclusion they thought was best. And at this point you are my first true friend. Can we. Can we be friends again Marinette?”

Mari looked at him for a second and then broke into a smile. “Of course, Adrien we’re friends”

“Good now let’s bring down a liar”

---

Of course the week leading up to career week was unexpectedly full of lies, all coming out of the Italians mouth. Oh, Barry Allen yeah she met him on Central city oh Oliver Queen she once saw him at a charity event in Star City oh she’s practically Lois Lane and Clark Kent‘s daughter, Jonathan their son, is her best friend. The list goes on and on. Everyone on the left side excluding Adrien do believe every word that came out of her mouth. The three in the very back on the right side, being herself, Damian, and Chloe couldn’t contain their laughter. This usually resulted in a Alya yelling at them from laughing that of course Lila wouldn’t be lying and then defending Lila as she began to cry her crocodile tears.

The entire school was informed that the entirety of career week was mandatory and missing a single speaker would be equivalent to failing a midterm for and class, meaning there was no skipping at all.

Monday

Today there were three guest speakers, them being Bruce Wayne, Prince Ali, and John Stewart.

Prince Ali was the first to go up go up and just let’s just say that many people we surprised that he did not do go green charities but in fact did children’s charities called a few things in the question specifically from Rose and Mylene.

Luckily for Lila she didn’t lie much about John Stewart, who spoke of his time as a marine and about currently being an architect, but that was a short-lived victory on her part, when he showed up as the final school guest at the end of the day as Green Lantern. He gave her a speech about honesty and the importance of discipline and hard work in order to succeed.

Bruce spoke about honesty and a hard work when building a company as well as the importance of working with reputable companies and brands.

At the end of the day she had two ceases and desists, one from Prince Ali and one from the Wayne family.

On the bright side a new Wayne charity was in the works alongside Prince Ali for children’s medicine.

Tuesday

Was Barry Allen who spoke about pursuing forensic sciences and the work he does alongside the police.

Wonder Woman who was speaking as an ambassador of Themyscira, and way at being an ambassador entailed.

And Mayor Bourgeois spoke on what it means to be a part of the political and legislative sectors of the government.

Again, Lila received two cease and desists from Barry Allen and Wonder Woman respectively.

Wednesday

Went similar to the previous two. Oliver Queen spoke about ways to modify businesses and expanding them in order to change with consumers.

Wang Cheng, Marinette’s uncle, spoke and gave a demonstration of cooking techniques for the school.

Tomoe Tsurugi, Kagami’s mother, spoke about fencing and also about ableism against disability, mainly that even being blind she can hand many fencers their asses without breaking a sweat.

Lila only received one cease and desist.

Thursday

Nora, Alya’s sister, spoke of being a professional boxer and the training she does for it.

Lois and Clark gave a joint presentation, and of course Alya wanted her idols to review her blog. And well that did not go so well for her, Lois tore her interviews with Lila apart stating she gives no further evidence and simply takes what the girl says at face value. However other interviews she did provide more links to her information which prove she is a capable journalist, but there is room to grow.

The Kent’s also presented Lila a cease and desist, luckily for Alya she hadn’t posted anything in the past two weeks since Marinette’s return about anything Lila had said, and she was glad for that right now.

Friday

Jagged Stone and Clara started Friday with a mini concert, that included a special duet with the two artists. Jagged spoke about Rock’n Roll and the changes and subcategories of the genre.

Clara Nightingale spoke on the pop side of the music industry and how she got started at a young age, as well as her background in dance and choreography.

Gabriel Agreste was the final speaker, we’ll he was on video call actually, and spoke on the fashion industry, the standards that come with the consumer market, and the way public opinion shapes brands and companies.

Gabriel was about to log off when Jagged walked in front of the camera.

“Too true Agreste, public opinion does shape the way many of those who have spoken this past week” many don’t know this about Jagged but mess with his family and he will not hold back. “That is why you should know, your model, Lila Rossi has had a total six cease and desists field against her this past week. As un-Rock’n roll as it is Clara and I will be adding two more to that list. I will also be suing for defamation of character as well. Clara?”

“Lies and cheats, make for poor feats. I will also be suing as well for defamation of character. This has made me so mad I can’t even come up with a rhyme.” She called out to the crowd.

“So Agreste, how will your totally not Rock’n Roll model affect your business?” Jagged asked. Everyone was watching the screen for Gabriel’s reaction.

“It would seem it is best we terminated contact Miss Rossi. Also, Adrien.” The poor boy practically jumped in his seat.

“Yes”

“There will be no contact between you and Miss Rossi until we are able to discuss this further. Goodbye”

The entire school was in a shocked silence. This final day as set up so the whole school would see it altogether.

Lila began to cry until she became furious. She jumped from her seat and yelled. “You did this! You set me up! You ruined my entire empire Marinette!” She was glaring daggers at me.

“If it’s any consolation to you Lila you made me miserable for eight months. You took my friends, those I’ve known since I was practically in diapers. You made my life hell and if that’s consolation to you fine. I will also be suing you for slander and defamation of character. But just know this I have people who genuinely care for me and I’m sorry if you felt threatened by me to blame all this on me, but I don’t care about your opinion or the opinion of those who turned on me without batting an eye not anymore.” It’s so liberating to say that to them. Oh, a weight has been lifted off my chest and so I walked out of the school side-by-side with Damian, Adrien, and Chloe with my head held high. And for the first time and I can’t remember when I could breathe. They weren’t going to hold me down any longer.

~~~~~~~~~~

Just for to clear this up Marinette is the youngest out of all the children. She and Damian are the same age but he is older by a few months.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

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#bio!dad bruce wayne #b ! dbwm2020 #bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #miraculus ladybug #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #maribat #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #ml marinette #marinette dupain cheng #lila salt #ml lila #class salt

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pawsitivelymiraculous · 3 years

Text

Le parfum de l'amour

This is the @maribat-secret-santa-2020 piece for @saltandfluff I am so sorry for being late!

Anyway, I will be using the quantic kids, but you don't necessary have to know them to understand this fic.

The only have to know that "Melodie" is Allegra's nickname.

Ao3

It was always a bad idea to try to mess with fate. Everyone knew this. Allegra knew this, but she didn't care. Not when it was taking a toll on her sanity.

There were only so many times a person could see two literal soulmates walk past each other before they decided to take matters into their own hands.

So that's what she did.

Or well, was going to do once she could convince her friends to help her out.

"I don't know, Mel." Allan rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "These things take time you know? You cannot rush it." He glanced at the corkboard that was behind Allegra and winced, it was going to be impossible to talk her out of the crazy plan.

On the corkboard, there were two pictures. One was a selfie of Marinette Dupain-cheng. A twenty-year-old who was a regular at the café where Allegra and Claude worked at. After chatting with her in the mornings, Allegra decided to adopt the girl, and she introduced her to the rest of the group. She quickly became friends with Allan and surprisingly enough, with Felix as well.

The second picture was a rather blurry photo that was clearly taken from afar. You could sort of make out the image of Timothy Drake. The sleep-deprived twenty-one-year-old who had started going to the café for about a month. All the employees loved him because he never failed to amuse everyone with his half-asleep antics.

The one thing that both pictures had in common was a coffee cup.

On Marinette's collarbone, there was a small tattoo-like mark that looked like a coffee cup. The same one that was on Tim's wrist. Soul marks . Granted, they looked a bit plain compared to most people's soul marks, but in Allegra's eyes, they were the excuse she needed to get them together.

Allegra had shipped her two favorite customers long before she noticed their soul marks. But now that she knew they were soulmates . Well, she was not going to rest until they finally met.

"I'm not trying to rush things!" Allegra insisted. "I just want to push them in the right direction."

Allan looked at her, doubtful. "That's basically the same thing. Plus do actually think that," he squinted to read the list of plans that was tacked on the corkboard. "'Locking them inside a room with no escape' is merely pushing them in the right direction? 'Cause I think that sounds more like a hostage situation."

Allegra glared at him. "You know what? I don't need your help. Claude will help me. Right, Claude?"

Claude looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh no no no. Sorry Melodie but I can't."

"Uh, I'm sorry what?" Allegra blinked. It was very out of character for Claude to turn down the opportunity to help her with one of her elaborate plans. Not to mention that in this case, they were doing it to help Marinette.

"Allegra," he said solemnly, "this is a destiny thing. We just can't interfere."

Allegra facepalmed. "You can't be serious."

Claude looked at her dead in the eye. "If we interfere we might end up," he leaned towards her and whispered " cursed"

"Oh give me a break." Allegra pushed Claude away. "Are you guys kidding me? This is Marinette we're talking about. You all can't possibly think that Marinette wouldn't want to meet her soulmate, and as her friends, we have to help her."

"I agree with Allegra."

Everyone spun around in surprise.

Felix rolled his eyes at his friends' incredulous expressions. "What? Marinette is my friend as well. Is it really that shocking that I want to see her happy?" The three of them nodded. He ignored them. "Besides, I've heard Marinette ramble about soulmates nonstop, so it's clear that meeting hers is what she would want."

Allegra was the first to react "See guys? Even Felix agrees with me!"

Felix huffed. "Yes, but I also think that your plans are ridiculous and ineffective."

"Ouch"

"I think the best thing we can do to help is to get them to interact and we-"

"That's literally what my plans are for!" Allegra interrupted.

Claude crossed his arms. "And what do you mean by 'we'? I haven't agreed to do anything."

Shooting both of them a glare, Felix continued. "- can do that without needing to kidnap them. We simply have to make it so that they have no other choice but to sit at the same table at the café. You all know how friendly Marinette is, it will only be a matter of time before they start talking."

There was a beat of silence.

"That… that might actually work," Allan admitted. "Soulmates are naturally drawn to each other so once they actually have a conversation we won't have to do anything else. They can figure out that they're soulmates by themselves." He paused and then chuckled. "We'll just have to push them in the right direction."

"But how are we going to get them in the café at the same time?" Allegra asked. "Tim always comes in right after Mari has left."

"Pft that's easy!" Claude exclaimed. "Just tell her that you need help with something and that you'll need for her to stay a while longer at the café. Since Mari doesn't have early classes on Wednesday she'll agree and- oh!" Claude suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened with horror. "This does not mean that I'm helping." He mumbled from underneath his hand.

Allan laughed. "I think you just did."

"Looks like someone's going to end up cursed." Allegra singed songed. "Not even ladybug is going to be able to help you with that bad luck that's to come." She teased.

Claude pouted. "Haha, laugh all you want." He then looked up at the corkboard and grimaced. "But you're right, there's no turning back now. What do you need me to do?"

Allegra clapped her hands in glee.

"Okay so here's the plan."

~♡~♡~♡~

Just like Claude had predicted, it was incredibly easy to convince Marinette to stay at the café. All that was left to do was orchestrate everything just so that the two soulmates had to sit at the same table.

It was easier said than done but after enlisting more people to help out, they were able to make sure that the café was full for that morning.

Everything was going according to plan…

Until…

"WHERE. IS. TIM?"

Claude looked around. "He hasn't arrived yet?"

"No!" Allegra cried. She glanced down at her watch and winced. They were running out of time.

Claude frowned. "And you know, it would have been nice if Marinette hadn't chosen today to wear a turtleneck."

Allegra couldn't help but agree. Sure, Marinette looked amazing with the turtleneck and skirt outfit but did she really have to wear it today? When they needed for her to show off her soul mark?

It was like the universe was against them.

But finally, Allegra heard a tinkling sound at the door. She spun around praying that it was Tim.

And it was!

He looked more tired than usual as he stumbled around trying to find a seat.

Allegra watched as Tim danced around the tables that were being occupied just as he was about to take a seat.

One after the other until finally, a good push later, he ended up at Marinette's table.

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim was too tired to deal with this.

All he wanted was to sit down, have a couple of cups of coffee at his favorite coffee shop and finally be awake enough to continue investigating the moth guy.

But apparently, that was too much to ask because almost all the tables were full.

"Sorry man," Claude whispered as he guided a couple and motioned them to sit at the table that Tim had beelined for.

"Oh, actually I'm waiting for Adam." Felix had said when Tim asked if he could sit with him. Which was strange since Adam had said that he was waiting for Felix when he asked him.

But he could barely comprehend what they were saying, so he was not conscious enough to complain.

Tim continued on his journey when he felt someone push him from behind. In his half-asleep haze, Tim lunged at the chair that was in front of him hoping that it would break his fall.

It took him a few seconds to recover. He wanted nothing more than to pass out right then and there, splayed out on a coffee shop chair as everyone stared at him wondering if he was drunk.

He too wondered if he was drunk, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so if he was drunk, he was not going to figure it out on his own.

When he finally looked up, his eyes met with a pair of beautiful bluebell eyes.

~♡~♡~♡~

Marinette watched as a guy stumbled around the café until finally flopping onto the other chair at her table.

It was clear that he was sleep-deprived. She had seen enough videos that her evil friends had taken when she was in a similar state to know the poor guy probably hadn't slept at all for the last week or so.

Marinette wanted nothing more than to drag the guy to the nearest bed or couch and wrap him up in a bunch of blankets. Just because she didn't comprehend the term "self-care" for herself didn't make Marinette any less of a "mom friend"

But she had to remind herself that she didn't know the guy, so it might be considered kidnapping to drag someone somewhere against their will.

Too bad.

The best she could do was offer him her own coffee.

"Hey, I think you need this more than I do at the moment." She said, pushing the drink his way as he stood up.

He mumbled something that could be interpreted as a "thank you" and eagerly took the drink. His eyes lit up when the heavenly liquid touched his tongue.

It was almost miraculous how quickly the caffeine took effect.

Actually, it was Marinette may or may not have mixed a little concoction she made with Tikki that helped her when she stayed up late with her regular coffee.

The guy blinked. "This. Is. Incredible."

Marinette laughed "Yeah, it's what I always get. Though you still look like you need to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah whatever." He waved her off. "But seriously, what is this called? I need a gallon of this."

"Sorry," Marinette said sheepishly "but I'm afraid that's a secret, you know, I'm kind of everyone's favorite, so I get the miracle coffee." Okay so that was a lie but what else could she say?

The guy pouted. Marinette had to admit that he looked adorable.

"Well, then I'm sure you can get me some then... um"

"Marinette."

"Ah, nice to meet you, coffee goddess, I'm Tim."

Marinette's cheeks heated up. "Uh, coffee goddess? Shouldn't they be the coffee gods and goddesses?" She pointed at Allegra, Claude, and the others.

"Nah, you have blessed me with this amazing coffee. Claude didn't even help me in my time of need."

"You know Claude?" Marinette asked, surprised.

"Yep, I've been coming here since I arrived in Paris, so I've gotten to know Allegra and Claude a bit."

"That's funny, I've never seen you. And I come here every day." Marinette said.

"Huh, that's weird. I've never seen you either. "

And from there they kept talking. Like they were old friends and not just acquaintances. Marinette found out that Tim had come from Gotham city. That he was in Paris because of business. Meanwhile, Tim learned that Marinette was an aspiring fashion designer and a college student who was close friends with almost everyone from the café.

Hours passed and the two were still deep in conversation completely oblivious to the crowd that had gathered behind the cafe's counter to watch the soulmates.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this before." Adrien, who had arrived after Tim, whispered to his cousin.

"I was under the impression that your father needed your assistance for the upcoming fashion show. I was not about to ask my dear uncle Gabe if I could steal you so that we could set up our friend and his future competitor, Marinette Dupain-cheng, with her soulmate."

Adrien hated to admit that he had a point. "Fine, but can you at least catch me up to date? Who is he?"

"He's a rich guy from Gotham city. He's pretty cool though he's basically Marinette when it comes to coffee which is honestly kinda scary now that I'm seeing them interact." Allegra whispered.

Adrien looked down to look at her. "Alright, I guess I'm going to have to do my own research since you guys are useless. What's his job? Why is he rich? If his from Gotham then who knows, maybe this guy is actually dangerous and wants to take Marinette as ransom for-"

"Oh please Adrien, stop with your theatrics. Do you honestly think that I would allow this if he was dangerous?" Felix interrupted.

"I mean-"

Felix glared at him.

"No?"

Felix sighed. "Timothy Drake is Marinette's soulmate, and I can assure you that he's clean. So don't worry about Marinette."

Allegra shushed the cousins. "Guys, I'm trying to listen here you know?"

"Um, you could probably hear better from up here" Felix nodded in agreement.

"Thanks, Adrien, but I don't want to risk Marinette seeing me and then remembering about time and stuff."

"Ah"

"Speaking of time, it's been years since I last ate, I'm hungry." Claude cut in.

"Claude! You're supposed to be with the customers!" Allegra whisper-shouted.

"Whoops."

~♡~♡~♡~

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Marinette eventually remembered the reason she had stayed in the cafe. Not only that but when she looked at her watch she realized that she was running late for class.

After Marinette's rushed exit, Tim went back to investigating Hawkmoth. But while they were trying to concentrate on their own thing. Marinette with her class and Tim with his research they found themselves zoning out and thinking about each other.

It was strange, they had quite literally just met.

Why had they made such an impact on each other?

~♡~♡~♡~

It wasn't until Marinette was getting ready to go to bed that she found the answer.

"Tikki is… is that what I think it is." Marinette's voice trembled as she stared at her reflection on the mirror.

Tikki gasped. "Oh Marinette, I think it is!"

Staring back at her was her soul mark, which no longer was a regular coffee cup but rather a gorgeous cup with beautiful red flowers that surrounded a somewhat familiar symbol.

"But, how? I mean they're not supposed to change… right? And why?" Marinette's eyes widened. "Does this mean that I met my soulmate? Who is it?"

Tikki giggled, "You seriously don't know?"

"Umm no? Should I?" Tikki continued to giggle as her holder looked at her confused. "Who is it Tikki?"

"Oh Marinette, how many new people did you meet today?"

"Uh, I don't know? I mean surely I must've passed by lots of strangers in the street." Marinette panicked. "Oh no Tikki! What if one of them is my soulmate? I'll never find out who they are!"

"So you don't remember meeting anyone else?"

"I don't think so, well other than ohhh- "

"Exactly"

~♡~♡~♡~

Tim could not believe what he was seeing. Gone was the plain coffee cup he was used to seeing, the daily reminder of the fact that he was still painfully single, it now had an intricate flower pattern that surrounded a symbol.

He recognized that symbol.

After weeks of researching and tailing the red Parisian heroine, he knew that it was the Ladybug symbol.

But why was it on his soul mark?

Unless…

No, the heroine couldn't be his soulmate, Tim hasn't even officially met her. Nor had he even seen her today.

The only blue-eyed girl he had met was Marinette.

Marinette

No, it was impossible. Except it wasn't. Tim had only known the girl for a couple of hours, but he knew that Marinette would make a great heroine or vigilante.

But, he… he was probably hallucinating, right? Tim hadn't slept for weeks, so surely he was just seeing things and his soul mark was still a plain coffee cup and the Marinette conclusion was just wishful thinking.

Right?

Because otherwise, his first meeting with his soulmate was him acting like a sleep-deprived zombie and Tim could not allow that.

Well, one thing was for sure, he really needed to get some sleep.

~♡~♡~♡~

Three days.

It took three days for Marinette to find Tim.

She looked everywhere. The coffee shop, Le Grand Paris Hotel, the tourist areas, and when she was ladybug she looked down from all the rooftops trying to find him.

But he had vanished, leaving Marinette worried sick that he had either A. Gone back to Gotham B. Died or C. Been so horrified that she was his soulmate that he decided to move to a remote island and changed his name in hopes of never seeing her again.

Gosh, she was starting to sound like her fourteen-year-old self.

But finally, she saw him, sitting on a bench, not far from her own home, looking down at his wrist.

He looked at his wrist like it was some puzzle he needed to solve. Marinette also noticed that he looked a lot more refreshed, so he must've finally gotten some sleep.

Marinette cleared her throat. "Well, you've been a very hard person to find Mr. Drake."

Tim looked up. "Ma- Marinette!"

"We need to talk."

Tim nodded his mouth hanging wide open as he stared at her soul mark.

"How do you feel about coffee? There's a coffee shop that's not very far from here, I hear their coffee is divine.

~♡~♡~♡~

Bonus:

(this was going to be a scene on the fic but I didn't know how to add it but it has important info sooo)

*They are at the coffee shop*

Marinette: So you're red robin.

Tim: And you're Ladybug

Marinette: Should I be worried? Like doesn't this compromise our secret identities?

*Claude and Allegra appear with some pastries*

Claude: Yooo Marinette! So you found your soulmate! Crazy right? We totally didn't have anything to do with it!

*Allegra elbows him*

Claude: So uh, congratulations! I um feel happy for you.

*looks nervously at Allegra who is glaring at him*

Claude: Bummer about the soul mark though…

*Allegra keeps glaring*

~♡~♡~♡~ Permanent tag list ~♡~♡~♡~

Claude: What? It's just a plain white cup!

Bonus bonus:

(here's a bad doodle and my crappy handwriting)

(If you want to be added or removed please let me know!)

@charme-de-malchan, @theatreandcomicfreak, @m3owww, @elliebelliegirl, @genevieve-the-demonologist, @vixen-uchiha, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @waffleyunsure, @technicallyburninggarden, @azuremayscarlet, @vroomtaka, @emimar7, @ichigorose, @maskedpainter, @art-is-hard-to-do-sorry

#maribat #timari #tim x marinette #maribat secret santa #ml x dc #mlb x dc #quantic kids #My writing #my trash writing #my art #my trash art

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