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onecanonlife · 3 years

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Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that’s all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There’s nothing deeper at work here. There’s nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,249)

(first part) (third part) (fourth part)

——————–

Part Two

He tries to pen a letter to Phil. It’s more difficult than he remembers.

Dear Phil, he starts, and that’s good, that’s fine. All is well here in L’Manberg, he continues, and that’s good too. But from there, he’s stumped. What next? What does he tell him about? This is the part where he’d launch into a cute story, something Fundy got up to, or some trouble Tommy caused. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing recent, anyway. But the last letter he sent to Phil was—a month ago? Two, now? So he needs to write, because Phil’s far from a helicopter parent, but he still likes to know what he’s up to. Will still worry, if he gives him a reason to.

So, he needs to finish a letter. Needs to stop procrastinating.

He could write about Niki’s bakery. He can’t remember if he told Phil about it or not. He probably hasn’t, not if it’s truly been that long since his last missive. So he sets his pen to work, scratching out a few more sentences, and he reminds himself that he doesn’t need to be overly verbose. Phil doesn’t need an essay. Just a paragraph or two to assure him that he and everyone else are well, that he’s having fun, that he’s thriving.

Telling him about the bakery will work for that. Except, then, after a bit, he ends up writing, It eases my mind to visit. Truly, it’s one of the only places I let myself relax, and—no. No, that won’t do. That will make him sound as though he’s stressed, and he doesn’t want Phil to worry about that. There’s nothing Phil can do about it, and he couldn’t stand it if the admission led his father to think any less of him. He’s not going to—to start complaining to him. That would be ridiculous.

So he scratches the line out and continues on, except then, he writes, I worry that I’m shirking my responsibilities, but then, I’m probably doing that anyway, simply by virtue of not being, and he stops before he can finish that sentence, because, no. Simply, no. He is absolutely not telling Phil that.

He bites his lip. He’s already scratched out enough that he’ll probably need to start an entirely new draft anyway.

He sets the tip of the pen to paper.

I’m exhausted, he writes, but my mind won’t allow me to rest. Too many shadows in too many dark corners, I suppose. Too many thoughts circling. It’s like a hurricane in my head, and I should be in the eye, but I think the storm wall has caught me. I’m tossing in the air, at the wind’s mercy, and I’m afraid of what will happen when I fall.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I ever assumed that I did. And I feel afraid, because my inadequacies are failing everyone around me. I have to protect them, have to keep them safe, but sometimes I close my eyes and see everything aflame, or I see Dream and his friends flooding into the Final Control Room. We were betrayed, there. I’ve never told you this, but we all lost a life. Me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy. I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Somehow, I never thought that dying would be terrifying for me, considering who my mother is, but it is. I was so scared, and I still am.

I think I’m a disappointment. I think that if this country fails, it will be my fault, and it will only be right if I go down with it. My people have little faith in me, and they’re right not to, but I can’t bring myself to step down, because at the end of the day, I’m addicted to the power and responsibility. I’m nothing without it. If I can’t manage this, then how can I deserve the trust and faith that others have placed in me?

Most days, I think that everyone hates me. Most days, I think they’re right to do so. I can’t trust anyone. Not completely, not fully, no matter how much I love them. I feel very alone.

He stops writing. Reads it over. Feels his lips quirk up into a wry smile. He’s certainly not sending that.

But the smile fades away after a moment. He supposes that he hoped writing it all out would make him feel better, but if anything, he feels more tired. Drained. Wrung out. Blank.

He fishes around for a new, unmarred sheet of paper.

Dear Phil, he writes, All is well here in L’Manberg. The city is thriving, and my people are well. I really do want you to visit sometime—but not yet, of course! We’ve been having a spot of trouble with creeper holes lately, and I don’t want that to be your first impression. Between you and me, it’s just a little bit embarrassing.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I do apologize for that; I don’t know where the time goes. There’s always so much to be doing, and I’m more and more thankful for this chance every day. It’s a lot of fun, having a country of our own, and we’re all working to make it as good as it can be. You should see Niki’s bakery—you haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve tasted something Niki’s baked, I swear. She’s a goddess, really, an essential pillar of our society. Baked goods make the world go round.

Tommy and Tubbo are well, and getting into just as much trouble as usual. Fundy grows up more and more every day. I’m so proud of them all.

Be careful of undead infants, and tell Technoblade I said hello, if you get the chance.

All love,

Wilbur

He sets down his pen and rereads. He’s satisfied with that, and more importantly, Phil will be as well. Now all that’s left is to let the ink dry and—

“Hey, boss man,” Tubbo says, opening the door to his office without knocking. He startles, violently. “How’re things coming?”

His heart shouldn’t be racing. It’s just Tubbo. But he came in without warning, which is—irritating. It’s irritating. That’s what it is. He feels himself flushing, just slightly, but surely it’s annoyance.

“There’s a lot of ‘things’ you could be referring to,” he says. “Are you going to be a little more specific?”

“Nah,” Tubbo says, meandering further into the room. But it’s not a regular meander, it’s a Tubbo sort of meander, which means that he’s here for a purpose. He just doesn’t want to reveal it just yet, or perhaps he’s figuring out how he wants to approach it. “Just wanted to know about general things. Big, vast things. Deep things.”

“Deep things,” he repeats, nodding. “Not much of that going on at the moment. Not a lot of deep things in paperwork.” He pulls the nearest sheet of paper closer to him; technically, that’s what he ought to be doing, not writing letters to a father that’s worlds away. He scans the words; it looks like something complicated about trade, something that sets his head to pounding already. The words swim, like they’re dancing, like they’re taking glee in the way he can’t comprehend them.

“I thought there were lots of deep things in paperwork,” Tubbo says, and he looks back up. “I thought that’s why the print is always so small.”

“Maybe,” he says.

“It makes sense to me,” Tubbo says. “Wilbur, is your hair really white?”

He freezes. “What?”

“Niki said that your hair is turning white,” Tubbo says. “Like an old man’s.”

Anger flares. He thought—he didn’t like that she found out about it, but he at least thought he could trust her with it. Thought that she would keep it to herself, that she wouldn’t let it spread to others, to others that might take it and try to use it as a knife to his jugular. But here is Tubbo, and Tubbo is so obviously staring at his hair, eyes flicking across his forehead and around his ears, and he won’t see anything. He double-checked when he arrived at the office; all of the white is under his hat. But he doesn’t like that Tubbo is looking, that Tubbo is actively trying to see, that Tubbo is treating him like some kind of curiosity, and that Tubbo surely must have some sort of opinion and that opinion cannot be anything but—

“Niki said that hair can turn grey or white if a person is very stressed,” Tubbo says, casually. “Are you very stressed, Wilbur?”

Oh—oh, fuck. Is that actually a thing that happens?

“I told her, it was a bad dye job,” he mutters, glancing back down at his paper. The words remain incomprehensible, but he’s not focusing on it. He nudges his pen with his finger, latching onto the light clicking sound it makes as it rolls and then comes to rest.

“Yeah?” Tubbo asks doubtfully. “What, were you trying to dye your hair white?”

He grits his teeth. “Was there something you needed, Tubbo?”

“Nothing I needed, really,” Tubbo answers. “I just wanted to see how you’ve been doing. Seems like forever since you came out of this office. Do you live in here now or something?” He keeps talking before Wilbur can reply, which is just as well, since he might as well live here, considering the state of his room. “And I think I’ve got a new design for a TNT cannon. Kind of streamlined, you might say, if you wanted to check it out. But I think you should just come and hang out with me and Tommy sometime. You never really do that anymore.”

He has a few feelings about TNT cannons. He doesn’t think about TNT too often, because when he does, his mind fills with fire and smoke, and his heart starts beating faster, climbing into his throat, and he wants to run, wants to run far and fast and away, wants to sit and shake until his body can’t move anymore, even when he knows very well that nothing around him is exploding, that his country is secure and his friends are safe. But some days, he can’t so much as smell smoke without a memory rising up to overwhelm him.

Once, he found himself zoning out in the middle of a conversation, a nearby campfire taking him far away from himself, and be barely returned in time to cover for his lapse.

He’s not a fan of TNT cannons, and he can’t bring himself to pretend to be, not even for the sake of Tubbo’s enthusiasm. And—

Hanging out with him and Tommy sounds nice. He misses them, he admits, and some part of him misses the old days, the first days and weeks and months on the server, when it was them and a dream and his fingers dancing on the frets of his guitar, his voice strong and steady and hopes high on the wind, words ready at his lips and Tommy a force of chaos at his back and Tubbo clever and quick by his side, and he just—misses it. Misses them. Misses it all, misses the days before so much was riding on his shoulders.

But he hasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he says, and tries on a smile. “I’m a bit busy right now. Take a rain check?”

“Sure,” Tubbo says, and shrugs. “Later, then. You say that a lot, though, do you know that?”

He winces. Tubbo smiles. He means no harm. Probably. He thinks he would know if Tubbo meant him harm.

And then, Tubbo leaves, and the tension leaves him all in a rush, leaving him—exhausted. Exhausted, and near tears, for some reason, but he blinks those back. That can wait. He doesn’t cry in his office. That’s unprofessional; anyone could walk in on him, and then where would he be?

What was he doing before Tubbo came in?

Right. The letter. He glances it over, scoops it up, and tucks it away in an envelope. He’ll chuck it at the next crow he sees.

---

It’s Tommy who barges in next, a day later, though at least this time, he’s somewhat expecting it. Because if Tubbo knows, then Tommy knows. That is simply the way of the world. He has a difficult time imagining anything ever coming between those two, even information that would be better kept to oneself.

“Why the fuck is Tubbo going on about your hair, then?” Tommy says, with no preamble, and despite himself, Wilbur smiles. That’s Tommy, all the subtlety of a charging bull. And the question is just as irritating as it was yesterday when it came from Tubbo, but he’s more prepared for it this time. He looks up from his work—work that he’s actually doing, at the moment, and he feels rather proud of himself for it—and meets Tommy’s gaze squarely.

“I’ve had an unfortunate encounter with some hair dye,” he says. “The hair dye won.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy says, but there’s already a laugh in his eyes. Good. Tommy is fairly easily deflected, he’s learned. Because Tommy looks up to him, he knows, and that means he’ll willfully look away from any evidence suggesting that perhaps he is not worthy of admiration after all.

It makes him sick, the way he’s thinking about it. Makes him feel like he’s using Tommy, somehow, taking advantage of his affection, when really, that’s the last thing he wants to do. Tommy is his little brother, his little brother by choice, by years spent on the road together, by hushed conversations in the dead of night as the stars bear witness, by all the little intricacies they’ve learned about each other as time continues to pass. Tommy is his little brother, which means it’s his job to protect him, as best he can. He’s done a piss-poor job of that lately. Tommy only has one life left now.

So he can’t fail him again. And perhaps it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s failed, either. If it ever turns out that Tommy hates him, he thinks it might kill him.

“Can I see?” Tommy asks, and he prepared for this, too, braced for it. With a long-suffering sigh, he sweeps his hat off his head and angles his face forward, letting Tommy take a good look.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Very impressively,” he says, and puts his hat back on. He’s sure to tuck all the white back under it. It’s a practiced motion, by now. “Or perhaps not very impressively, as it were.”

“Well, it looks sick,” Tommy says, and Wilbur glances at him immediately. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He seems almost—impressed? But he sees him looking right away, and immediately backtracks. “Sick as in disgusting, obviously. It makes you look old. Like an old, old man.”

Tommy’s joking, of course, is all bluster and smoke, no fire. But something in his chest stings, and he realizes that the words hurt, and more than that, they hurt because it’s an echo of what he tells himself. He doesn’t like to look in the mirror anymore—though he never did to begin with, actually—but he is well aware of what he looks like. The white hair is just one more symbol of his failing faith, his lack of ability to handle the job that he set himself out to take in the first place. He should be able to do this, and yet, he can’t, and the white hair—well.

After what Tubbo said, it can only mean that he’s weak. Physical proof of his incompetence. That’s really the only way to look at it.

“Shut the fuck up, child,” he says. “Why don’t you go and find a juice box to drink?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tommy says, and the song and dance is familiar. Tommy rolls his eyes at him—the disrespect in this house is unbelievable—but he turns to go, and that means that Wilbur’s won.

What he’s won, he doesn’t know. Some more self-disgust, maybe. That’s what it feels like.

Lying to Niki. Lying to Tubbo. And now, lying to Tommy. What a stunning specimen of humanity he is. Working through them all like he has a checklist.

And then, Tommy stops in the doorway and looks back.

“Wilbur?” he asks. “You really are alright, aren’t you?”

And that gives him pause. Tommy’s not supposed to ask him that question. If anything, he’s the one who’s supposed to be asking Tommy that.

“It’s just that,” Tommy continues, “I don’t see you around so much, these days. Except for when there’s a problem, and you come out to try and solve it with, with your words and shit. Diplomatic shit, innit? You do that, but you don’t just—you never come to just spend time with us anymore, like how it used to be. And I just sort of miss that, you know? So I was thinking that maybe we could try and do that again, sometime soon? Just, hanging out, like the good old days?”

The good old days.

He doesn’t quite have the heart to tell Tommy that the good old days are long over, that they have been long over since the day Sapnap came to arrest them all for starting a drug empire and the forest around them was set ablaze, since the day they declared independence from the Dream SMP, since the day he in all his naivety declared that all they had to do was ignore the conflict and it would pass them by, since the day he was proven so very, very wrong. Since the day he learned that as much as he values his words, his diplomacy, his efforts toward nonviolence, some people only recognize power in iron and steel.

Since the day he watched his men, his comrades, his family die around him, and knew that he led them to that fate. Since the day Tommy traded his life and then his discs for their independence, and he knew that he couldn’t do a thing to help.

The good old days are long gone. The good old days belong to a different version of him, one that was young and hopeful and stupid, one that had no idea what he was getting into. And he likes to think that he’s still hopeful, that he still strives for a better future, but—

He’s learned. Nothing comes easy, here. There will be no more halcyon summers. The days are getting colder, and there will be no more rest.

“Sure,” he says, and this lie tastes far more bitter than all the rest. “I’d like that.” He gestures at his desk. “I’ve been really busy, but I would like to spend time with you. I’ll let you know when I can, alright?”

And Tommy believes him. He sees it in his answering smile, and he hates himself.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy says. “See you later then, yeah?”

“See you later,” Wilbur agrees, and then Tommy, too, is gone. He’s alone in his office, with his duties and his thoughts, and neither of them are kind.

Not that he thinks himself deserving of much kindness.

---

He waits two weeks before visiting the bakery again. It’s not completely intentional; he doesn’t have much time to get away anyhow. But part of it certainly is. He doesn’t want to come again so soon, doesn’t want to know how Niki’s going to look at him, doesn’t want her to poke and prod at something that isn’t important, that is a minor, irritating detail. He doesn’t want to discuss it, and he thinks that Niki might try, so he stays away.

But not forever. He can’t bring himself to take so drastic a step, even if his visits are a bit of a distraction. One that, perhaps, he can’t really afford.

So he steps inside and immediately wants to backtrack, because Niki’s not the only one here. Fundy and Jack Manifold are both sat at the counter, and both of them are looking at him now, having swiveled in their seats to watch his entrance. And that means he can’t leave, because if he leaves without saying anything, they’ll ask him why he did that, and he’ll have to make up something to avoid admitting that he’s been a little bit terrified of interacting with people lately. Because absolutely no one can know that.

Because it’s stupid. Pathetic. He’s pathetic, and he’s become quite accustomed to that word. It seems to live in his head now, like it’s made a nest in his brain, a little roost. Pathetic. Everything he does feels pathetic to him, and probably to everyone else around him.

“Oh,” Jack Manifold says. “Hi, Wilbur. Didn’t expect you in.”

Fundy doesn’t say anything. Just blinks at him, tail swishing. He finds that he doesn’t know what to say. But he needs to think of something, some reason for being here, and if he can manage it, some excuse for extricating himself quickly. The silence has gone on just a little too long, and he’s been standing in the doorway for a full five seconds now, and he needs to come in completely because it’s weird, what he’s doing, and they’re going to call him on it.

And then, Niki pops her head between the two of them, leaning far over the counter, resting practically all of her weight on it.

“Wil!” she says, and smiles. “I’m glad you came! I’m making honey bread, and I know you like that.”

And just like that, he relaxes. Not completely, but to ask that of him would be to expect the impossible. It’s enough.

“I do,” he agrees, and steps further in, letting the door close behind him. “Seems I have good timing.”

The tension in the air—imagined or real? He’s not sure—dissipates. Jack grins at him, raising a glass of—probably not alcohol? He doesn’t think Niki keeps alcohol stocked in here, or at least, none other than the cooking variety. Might be milk. And Fundy still doesn’t say anything, but his tail keeps twitching, and his eyes keep darting between him and the empty stool next to him, and he really hopes that’s an invitation, because that’s how he’s going to take it.

He slides onto the seat, letting his coat fall behind him. His hat, he keeps on. He’s not laying his face on the counter today. Not with other people here. He probably wouldn’t have anyway, tempting though it is. He always feels sleepier in here. It’s probably the warmth.

But he won’t fall asleep.

Niki’s gone back over to the ovens, inspecting her bread. He can smell it on the air, fresh and sweet, and his stomach twists. Has he eaten today? He’s not sure that he has. Though he definitely did yesterday—evening. He thinks. Definitely. A couple apple slices shoved in his mouth, swallowed without really tasting them. But it counts.

“What have you two been up to lately?” he asks. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not too much,” Jack Manifold answers easily. “Mostly been hanging around Tommy and Tubbo. Getting into mischief, you might say. Nothing too serious or anything!” he is quick to add, seemingly remembering exactly who he’s talking to. “Nothing—I mean, nothing illegal, no, sir. Not us. But, you know, it’d probably be best not to share the details.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” he says. “As long as it’s not something that I’m going to have to clean up later.”

“We’ve already cleaned up,” Jack says.

“Good.” He looks at Fundy, and affection blooms in his chest, sudden, almost overpowering. His boy’s grown up of late. He can barely remember it happening. It seems that only yesterday he came up knee-high, and now, he’s a man in his own right. But still his little champion, always. “How about you? I know we haven’t been fishing yet. I’m sorry—you know that’s the first thing on my list when I finally get a bit of time.”

Fundy glances away. “I know,” he says. “I’ve been fine.”

“I’m glad,” he says, and Niki saves him from having to say anything else—though why he thinks of it as a rescue, he isn’t sure—by walking back over and placing some bread on the counter before them.

“Fresh from the oven,” she says, “so it’s hot. Be careful.”

It smells nothing short of divine. Niki smiles, pleased, as Fundy and Jack reach for a piece right away, and he isn’t far behind them. Though he tries to be a little more neat about it than the other two are being. The way they’re digging in, he’d think that they’re starving. Frankly, he can’t blame them for it, not when it’s Niki’s food on the line, but he still tries to have a bit more decorum.

“Niki,” Jack says, mouth full, “you are an angel among mere mortals.” Fundy doesn’t say anything, but his tail is swishing happily.

Niki rolls her eyes, and takes a bit of bread for herself. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonishes. “But thank you, Jack.” And then, her gaze drifts to him, and he finds himself stiffening. For no reason. It’s Niki. It’s just Niki. He trusts Niki. She’s basically his best friend, and he’s comfortable here. He is. This is a place of safety, as much as there are such places to be found. Safety, true safety, is not a thing that exists, not really. But here is as close as he can get to it.

Why can’t he let himself unwind?

Is it because Jack and Fundy are here? He hopes not; that wouldn’t be fair to them. They are his countrymen, his citizens, and more than that, Fundy is his son. What would that say about him as a parent, if being around his child makes him nervous? Not just nervous in a I-hope-I-don’t-fuck-up-my-kid way, but in a I-don’t-feel-safe-here way?

But his shoulders are stiff, slightly hunched. He can’t force them down. So he has to hope it’s not too obvious, that the lines of his coat disguise the hard set of his posture, a stance that indicates he thinks there’s a threat, if they know how to read him right. Which they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t.

“How about you, Wil?” Niki asks, and he takes another bite of bread. Small, so as not to get crumbs everywhere, and he swallows before answering.

“It’s as good as always,” he says. “Do I have to say it?” Though it sits heavier in his stomach than usual, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad,” she says. “It’s been a little while since the last time I saw you. You are eating properly, right?”

It’s concern, not an accusation, no matter how misplaced. The question shouldn’t raise his hackles. But it does, and all that’s left is to keep it from showing, to keep it from his voice.

“Of course I am,” he says, and before he can get anything else out, Jack laughs.

“Wouldn’t do to have our president starving on us,” he says, and his voice is light, full of laughter, joking. It’s a good thing that Jack feels comfortable enough to joke with him. He’s glad, because—he doesn’t know him all that well, definitely doesn’t trust him, not yet, but Tommy and Tubbo seem to like him, so it’s good that he’s fitting in, that he’s found a place, that he likes it here. Though liking isn’t always enough to stop the betrayal before it comes. He ought to keep a closer eye on him, just in case, but—that wasn’t the point of this.

The point is that, joking or not, Jack is completely right. It wouldn’t do to let his eating habits interfere with his duties. He’s already weak; is he going to add malnutrition on top of that? Never mind that he often doesn’t feel like eating, these days, that he really only has an appetite when he’s here, in the bakery. He needs to keep his strength up so that he can get things done. And he can’t force himself to sleep, so that problem is out of his hands, but he can force himself to eat.

Jack couldn’t have known what he was prodding at, of course, when he made the comment. But he takes another bite of bread anyway. It’s tough to swallow, even though it tastes delicious. He doesn’t know why. He’s never had an issue eating Niki’s food before. He hopes this doesn’t become a pattern.

And he hopes it’s not because there’s other people here. It would be an explanation, at least, but not one he likes. The implications there wouldn’t be—good, to say the least.

“Jack,” Niki says quietly, admonishingly, and he wishes she wouldn’t, because he doesn’t want Jack to examine what he’s just said, to analyze it as anything other than a joke. So he musters a smile, a quirk of an eyebrow, and Jack grins back at him.

Safe territory. Level ground, even footing. Relatively speaking.

And then Fundy pipes up.

“Hey, Wil,” he says, and Wilbur wonders, suddenly, where he picked up the habit of calling him ‘Wil’ or ‘Wilbur’ more often than he calls him ‘dad’. Not that he minds it, but it’s curious. Could it be from him? He himself calls Phil by his name more often than not. Perhaps it’s genetic. But then Fundy continues, “Is your hair actually, like, turning white?” and Wilbur is no longer interested in thinking about little details like that.

He’s tense again. Tense enough now that they can probably see it, even without looking too hard.

“Why is everyone so interested in my hair, lately?” he asks. “It’s just hair. Grows out of everyone’s head. Except for yours, Jack Manifold.”

“Point,” Jack Manifold agrees, but there is a gleam in his eyes, behind his glasses, that says he too is interested in the direction this conversation has taken. Not ideal.

“It’s just that,” Fundy persists, “it’s a little bit weird, right? If it’s turning white like that? Is that normal?”

“It’s not ‘turning white,’” he says, which might be a mistake, because he’s lying through his teeth, now. “It was a bad hair dye incident. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

Jack laughs. “How’d you manage to fuck up hair dye that badly?” he asks, and the way the question is phrased is irritating; he doesn’t want Jack to start thinking he’s an incompetent fool who can’t dye his own hair properly. But he’ll also take this line of questioning over the other, so perhaps it balances out.

Except then, Niki splays both her hands on the counter. Any earlier levity that she had is now gone.

“Is that so?” she says. “That’s not what you told me.”

His heart is pounding again. He really, really hopes that he’s not developing a condition of some kind. He’d know if he were having a heart attack, wouldn’t he?

“I’m pretty sure that is what I told you,” he says, and Niki shakes her head.

“No, you told me that it wasn’t dye, when I asked,” she says. “And then you said that it was, but you were lying.”

She doesn’t sound angry, which is perhaps the worst thing about all of this. She doesn’t sound angry that he’s lied to her, taken advantage of her trust and fed her a blatant falsehood. Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes that isn’t annoyance or betrayal or any of the other emotions she should be feeling. Instead, it’s concern. That blasted concern again.

He doesn’t deserve it.

“Really?” Jack says. “Huh. Well, what’d you do that for, then?”

He’s changed his mind. The worst thing about all of this is that there are other people present. That he’s not alone with Niki, which would still be an undesirable situation, but manageable. Jack Manifold and Fundy are both here, staring at him, expecting answers that he doesn’t want to give, and Fundy—

Why is his son looking at him like that?

“Why are you all so pressed about my hair?” he demands. “It’s hair. You don’t even see it.”

“I mean,” Fundy says, “like I said, it’s just kind of weird, right? I don’t think hair just turns white for no reason. Not unless you’re really old, which you’re not, I don’t think. So I guess we’re just curious about what the reason is.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this. This isn’t why he came here. This place, this bakery, these people, it’s supposed to be an escape from his responsibilities. The only one he allows himself, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s the one place where he doesn’t have to think about his own failings, where he can relax a bit and let himself be, if only for a little while, but here they are, pushing him on this, and he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be reminded of his incompetency. And they don’t know, can’t know exactly what they’re doing to him, but—

He slams his hand against the counter, sudden emotion boiling over. They all jump, the three of them. Niki’s eyes widen, and Fundy’s ears press back against his skull.

“Then don’t be,” he snaps. “Leave it the fuck alone. It’s really none of your business, is it?”

There is a moment of silence. The only sound is the crackling of furnaces.

“I guess not,” Fundy mutters, and he realizes what he’s done.

He’s just snapped, lashed out at his friends, his countrymen, his son, and for what? Because their questions are stressing him out? He should have turned around and left the moment he saw them in here, no matter what they would have thought, because this is worse. This is so much worse than that, and now he feels like an absolute shitstain of a human being. What kind of person gets so fucking upset over questions about his hair?

“I’m sorry,” he says. Too little, too late. “I didn’t mean—” Fundy is looking at him. They all are, and suddenly, he can’t bear it. Not any longer. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I really should be going. Thank you for the bread, Niki.”

It’s painfully transparent, and he is very aware of the fact that it’s the exact same way that he rushed out of the bakery when he was last here. Except this time, there are more people here to witness his shame.

History repeats itself, he thinks, bitterly. History repeats itself, and it only gets worse.

But he’s not staying here. He can’t. He just—can’t. Because he feels very upset over such a stupid little thing, and he’s upset that he’s upset, and now he’s upset other people, and he can’t stay here any longer, because if he does, the gods only know what’s going to fly out of his mouth next.

“Wil, please stay,” Niki says, but he’s already standing.

“Be seeing you all,” he says, and the door isn’t far, but it feels like miles, because he can feel their stares burning into his back as he makes his exit.

“Aw, wait, Wilbur, you don’t have to—” Jack starts, but he’s out the door. He’s out the door, and he lets it swing shut behind him, and the words cut off. He doesn’t have to listen to them. So if Fundy says anything, he doesn’t hear it, and he wonders why that makes him feel so much worse. Worse than he does already, which is no mean feat.

His stomach growls. He’s hungry. How many bites of bread did he take? Two? Three? Not enough to be filling. But somehow, he already knows that if he seeks food elsewhere, it will turn to ash in his mouth. And he can’t go back, not after the scene he’s just made, so he’s going to have to be hungry. Which is fine. He’s fine. He’s fine, even though he’s just fucked everything up, and he rather thinks he might not be able to show Niki his face ever again. So, no more bakery. No more safe place, and wow, he is being a dramatic fuck, isn’t he? But he can’t help himself. He never can.

He should have known better from the start. There is no such thing as safety. No exceptions. He should have tried harder to remember that. And he’s not angry, not anymore, not really, because they weren’t aware of the hornets’ nest they were stirring up; rather, he’s angry at himself, for losing control, for letting himself react, for not being able to handle a simple question with the poise and calm that is expected of him as president.

For being weak. That’s what it comes down to. His weakness. Persistent, and now, persistently on display.

He does a lot of screaming into his pillow that night. It doesn’t help. And sleep, it seems, is determined to continue its avoidance, so the night stretches long, and even his tears eventually run dry.

---

The next day, Niki comes to his office.

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eirikaanemo · 3 years

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Venti’s a Superhero (GN)

1) You’re in law enforcement

The two of you have a pretty typical hero-officer relationship. He catches the supervillains, you cart them off to prison. It’s not a big deal and you don’t think much of it.

Or, rather, you wouldn’t if your co-workers would just leave things be. However, they keep pushing you to be the one to interact with him. Something about him liking to work with you specifically, which is ridiculous.

Sure he does flirt with you and drops the cheesiest pick up lines ever. And sure, he does smile a lot when you’re around. But it’s not like he’s serious about it, right? He jokes around by flirting with villains after all, so how do you know this isn’t a joke too?

It’s honestly kind of hard on you because you’ve found yourself falling for him. Who wouldn’t, honestly? He’s strong, charming, and just a really nice guy. It has nothing to do with the way he laughs at your stupid jokes or protected you fiercly the couple of times you were specifically targeted in an attack.

But when he shows up in front of the police station with a ukelele and sings you a cheesy love song he apparently wrote himself, you have to face the truth. He does, in fact, actually like you. The flirting was playful, not pretended. The cute superhero guy actually likes you back.

It’s kind of overwhelming honestly. So when he asks you on a date right after you’re kind of speechless. His face falls when you apparently take too long to respond and you have to chase after him as he walks away, dejected, to reassure him that yes, you’d love to go on a date with him.

“Why did you decide to wear your superhero costume on our date again?” You ask him, hyper aware of all the stares that the two of you are getting. The press are at the cafe doors, only kept out by threat of legal action from the owner of the establishment. Thank goodness they’re apparently a big fan of Venti and the work he does. Also, Venti is apparently a regular here. Who knew?

He takes a sip of his dandelion tea and glances out at the press nervously. “Well, I guess I’m just worried about doing an identity reveal for our first date. I was thinking maybe third or something.” You blink and a smile spreads across your face. “Oh? So you want there to be a third date before our first date is even over?” You tease him. His face flushes red. “Yeah,” he admits. “I can’t picture myself with anyone else. I’ve fallen for you and I can’t get up.”

2) You’re a journalist

You have always loved superheroes. They’re just so cool! Someone with a secret identity working a double life to serve and save the people around them? How awesome is that! And so when you move to Mondstadt and found out that they have their very own superhero, Barbatos, you are absolutely thrilled!

And, even better, your boss knows about your love of superheroes and assigns you to be the journalist representing the company on superhero related matters- including Barbatos!

So you take to your new task with gusto! This is exactly why you became a journalist! You will get all the best scoops and make your company proud. And if this involves showing up at all his fights and following him on patrol, well, that’s just doing your job, right?

Meanwhile, Venti, or Barbatos, is starting to be seriously concerned about your mental and physical health. Are you obsessed? Is this hyperfixation unhealthy for you? Are you overworking yourself? What if you get hurt from one of his fights? What is he supposed to do in this situation?

In the end, he decides to take a minute to talk to you about it during his regular patrol. He’s relieved to find out that yes, you are okay, and that you’re really just a super big fan. Eventually talking to you becomes a habit.

As time passes, you start putting less and less private details into your articles and stick to more public knowledge and juicy bits you get from battles and about villains. The stuff he tells you on patrol stays with you as the two of you get to know each other better. Soon you’re good friends, and maybe are edging into more.

It was a night almost like any other, except for how it wasn’t. This time he’d picked you up, bridal style, and flew both of you up onto a rooftop. Now the two of you are taking a well deserved rest stargazing together. “And there’s sagittarius,” you point to a constellation in the sky. You were fascinated with stars a couple years ago and had a wealth of information you could share with him.

“Sagittarius, huh?” He murmured. “Right there?” Now he was pointing at it too.

“Not quite,” you reply. You wrap a hand around the hand he’s pointing with and adjust it’s direction. “Right there.”

When you don’t get a response, you turn and look at him, only to find him as red as the apples he loves so much. It seems to get even worse when he notices you looking and he stutters a bit before he is finally able to spit out what he’s been trying to say for weeks.

“I really, really like you.”

3) You’re a fellow superhero

You are a superhero called Torque who has total control over cars. Your weapon arsenal consists of fifteen different toy cars that you can shrink and grow at will and use to knock villains off their feet. Sure they have more tricks to them, but you can’t give all your secrets away, can you?

Your specialty is evacuation, but you’re also good at keeping supervillains on their toes. Getting run over by cars doesn’t tend to be fun. So you can distract them from the other hero they are fighting. Because of this you make excellent back up and are often on call.

He is better in combat situations because of his aerokinesis. His abilities make him great for emergency response because he can get to the fights quickly and take immediate, safe action. The level of control he has makes him incredibly versatile too.

The two of you end up working together very often. He will show up early with you coming in not too long after. You will take over evacuation and protecting the citizens, allowing him to completely focus on the villain. As soon as you’re done evacuating, you join in the frey.

Your teamwork is legendary among the hero community and you’re a very popular duo in the eyes of the citizens. Famous for prioritizing civilian safety and quick takedowns, you’re effective and efficient. So far as most anyone knows, you’re just good friends, despite 80% of your fanbase shipping you.

In reality though, you’re already married. It’s a secret because you don’t want your identities to be compromised and your different relationship levels in and out of costume add another layer of safety to your disguises. If they knew, though, they would love how domestic the two of you are at home.

You slip into your home through the window. A relieved sigh escapes your lips as you close the window behind you, only for you to nearly shriek as someone suddenly wraps their arms around your waist and blows in your ear. Venti laughs from behind you. “Ehe, you’re always so fun to surprise.”

He smiles into your shoulder and holds you unusually close. The smile seems a little strained. “Today was close, are you okay?” He asks you. Oh. He’s talking about how you almost got hit today. Usually you’re fast enough to avoid hits like that, but you got distracted while evacuating and almost didn’t see it coming. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, so be more careful, okay?”

4) You’re a hostage he saves

The two of you know nothing about each other at the time. You’re a regular citizen of Mondstadt who was going about their business as normal until you got kidnapped.

It all went so fast. One moment you were walking down the street, the next you were being held hostage with a knife to your throat. While you’re terrified, he rescues you as quickly as the villain got you.

There’s just something special about being saved by a superhero. As someone who had been crushing on him for a while even before being rescued, it was all a bit too much for you to comprehend.

He happens to have just the biggest crush on you out of costume, not that he ever planned to tell you. But there was something special about being able to save you, being your hero.

If either of you thought your crush couldn’t get worse, you were dead wrong. The media is all over it, spinning dramatic love stories about how he’d apparently been especially careful with you and you’d given him the look.

You start following news about him more frequently and he keeps a special eye on you the times he happens to spot you on patrol. Daydreams about each other are more common now and your mutual pining reaches new levels.

You hear a sharp rap as something hits your window. It continues for a couple time before you get curious enough to check out what’s going on. Apparently someone’s been throwing rocks at your window. Opening the window, you peer down to see who’s there and nearly get hit in the face. Thankfully, Barbatos catches the rock before it hits you.

“Whoops, sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to almost hit you. I was just trying to get your attention.” He pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, cecilias. “I got this for you! Hopefully you like it as much as I like you!” The blush dusting his cheeks has nothing on the warmth that covers your face. Are you sure you are not dreaming?

#eirika writes #venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #superhero au

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starpollen1998 · 3 years

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Uber Allergic: A Romance - part 1 / ?

I don’t know what it is with me and cars lately. Maybe because I haven’t driven one in nearly 4 years, or maybe because I had a plot bunny about a hired driver and then couldn’t decide which direction to take it. So, naturally, I wrote 2 stories. A warning: I have never taken an Uber. I have used a similar company in the country where I live, so I imagined it would be the same. Apologies for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

The Ride - Part 1

When I saw him standing on the curb waiting, I couldn’t help but blink. And then swallow hard. The man was stunning: tall, broad-shouldered, long-limbed, with a perfect jawline and dazzling smile. His hair was that rare coiff that crested like waves from his head, barely brushing his ears, thick and tawny like a lion. When he dropped into the back seat, I saw his eyes were a stunning shade of blue.

I’ve had attractive men in my car before, sure. But none quite as mind-blowing as this one.

“Heya, darlin’,” he quipped, firing off a devastating wink at me through the rear view mirror.

“Hi,” I replied, barely able to get that single syllable past the lump in my throat. I prayed I could focus on the road in front of me and not the Greek-god-incarnate in the back seat. He was headed across town, a trip that would take us roughly 40 minutes.

We rode in silence for almost a full minute, him tapping away on his cell phone while I gritted my teeth and forced my gaze at the horizon. Occasionally I glanced at the GPS, checking that we were on track.

Then…

“heHH?...”

I couldn’t help it. My eyes darted up to the rear view mirror.

I watched as Greek-god pinched his nostrils shut, rubbing in hard, tight circles, finishing with a small shake of his head, blue eyes blinking furiously. Was it my imagination, or did those eyes seem to be getting red?

I kept driving.

Not even a minute later…

“heh-heHH?...”

Once more, my eyes snapped like magnets to the rear view mirror. My passenger was frozen in classic pre-sneeze expression: eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, lower lip trembling… nostrils flared, the tip of his prominent nose visibly twitching. His elegant head turned left, then right, and then…

“heght--SHHzzztT!!”

He sneezed - snapping into his elbow at the last second.

“B-... Bless you,” I stammered, sure I was blushing red as a tomato.

But Greek god wasn’t done.

He raised his head, eyes still shut, shoulders bouncing with stuttering hitches. My eyes were darting between the road ahead and the rear view mirror, terrified that I was either going to rear-end someone … or miss one second of the spectacle in the back seat.

Then - a red light.

Thank you! I screamed in my mind to whatever higher power was listening.

When I came back to the rear view mirror, his right hand was raised, hovering loosely cupped, nostrils stretching into little round O’s, his upper lip curled back from gleaming white teeth…

“hegt--SCHgtT!!” he snapped down, visibly misting the hand. This time he stayed down, and I could almost see his abs rippling beneath his button-up shirt. “eegh--SCHHtT… aAH-SCHTch-u!!”

“Bless you,” I barely breathed, glad that this particular red light seemed to be taking a lot longer than usual.

His voice - husky and a little congested - floated up from behind the hand still cupped to his nose.

“... snfll… thanks, darlin’. … sdrfl…. Don’t suppose you h-have… sdrffl… any tissues?”

Fumbling, I opened the glove box and pulled out the stack of drive-through napkins I kept stashed away for emergencies. Usually spilled coffee. Twisting in my seat, I set the stack on his left knee, fingertips brushing the hard muscles of his thigh.

Peering through the tawny strands of hair that had been knocked loose by the fit, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “Thanks.”

An impatient honk made me jump. Heart pounding, I whipped back around to face the road and eased us forward through the intersection. His soft chuckle made my ears burn, sure that I was blushing fire-engine red by now.

I heard soft blowing, more wet sniffles, and managed to catch in the mirror when he stretched two KFC napkins between both hands and muffled a wet double: “t’SCHmp--g’SCHHm!”

“Bless you,” I managed, happy when my voice sounded even and calm, even though my hands were gripping the steering wheel hard.

“Darlin’ you don’t… hH!--... have to say that every time… snffl---hHehH!--... l-looks like I m- muhH!-HGK’tSCHHt!... excuse me. I might be at this a while...” Taking another napkin from the dwindling stack, he pinched it around his nose and rubbed again in small, fast circles, brows drawing together in concentration.

Grateful for another red light, I stared into the mirror. My passenger had a fist full of crumpled napkins in one hand, the other pinching and rubbing desperately at increasingly pinkening nostrils.

“Does… this happen often?”

Another husky chuckle, which deteriorated into more hitching breaths and another itchy-sounding sneeze. “hgz’CHHT! … Depends,” he breathed, bringing the knot of used tissues up to dab at his watering eyes. “Do you have a c-... hHihh!... a cat?”

The Ride - Part 2

My mouth dropped open, eyes wide. He saw my expression in the mirror and gave another chuckle. Swiping a knuckle under his nose, he flashed me a wry grin. “Well, that explains it.”

“I’m sorry,” I looked back at him, stricken.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he gave a dismissive shake of his lion’s head. “You couldn’t know. heh-GSCHhtu!... And it’s not like there’s a box to tick in the app, or anything. ...snfl… ‘Driver has pets.’ ...sdrfl … A lot of people do. Have pets.”

“I know,” I replied softly, turning the wheel smoothly as we rounded a corner. “But I can still be sorry that you’re… you know…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I couldn’t even glance in the mirror.

But I heard the smile in his voice when he said, “It’s fine. Really. It h--hH! hg’zCHHt!-heh’GZShht!... excuse me. It happens a lot, actually. snfl.”

That did make me glance at the mirror, brows raised in surprise… and interest. “Really?”

Greek god had placed the growing pile of used napkins in the seat beside him, frowning down at both his watch and the small stack of napkins still on his leg. The tip of his nose was flushing a tell-tale pink, blue eyes definitely red-rimmed. He blinked rapidly and sniffled constantly, dabbing at his eyes or wiping at his nose, overall looking the very picture of ‘itchy’ and ‘allergic.’

“Yeah,” he replied, breath spiraling in preparation for another sneeze… but it left him last-minute, causing him to give a frustrated cough. “I’m allergic to most animals, but you might say I’m… uber allergic to cats.” Those stunning blue eyes twinkled at me in the mirror, followed by a mischievous wink.

“Why risk taking an Uber, then?”

“Well, as cliché as it sounds... my car is in the shop.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, snffll, I got a… hH!--... a recall letter. Better safe tha-… heh-GSCHt--ahh-GSCHu!... ugh. Apologies.”

We chatted a little more during the ride, about his job as an IT consultant and my 3 jobs: kindergarten teacher, waitress at Olive Garden, and Uber driver. By the time we reached his destination I had counted no less than 56 sneezes, nearly always he followed up with ‘excuse me,’ or some other polite apologetic. He had used my entire stash of emergency napkins, and his handsome face was a bleary, blotchy wreck: nose red, eyes puffy, voice croaky and thick with congestion.

“I’m sorry, again,” I said when we stopped at the curb in front of his building.

“Add - agaid - you dod’t have adythig to be sorry for,” he rasped, palming the pile of used tissues and reaching for a few that had fallen to the floor.

“Oh, I can do that,” I got out in a rush. “You don’t have to--”

“Oh, doh,” he chuckled, voice breaking on the second word like a prepubescent. “I cad take by owd dirty tissues, darlid’.” Glancing up, he gave me a soft smile. “You’ve beed padiedt edough about all this.” Maybe I imagined it, but it looked like he blushed just a little.

“Well it’s my fault,” I insisted.

He opened his mouth to reply, but instead turned and gave a tired-sounding sneeze into his elbow. “H’eISCHt!... gkm, pardod.”

“Bless you,” I murmured.

“You dow, sdrfl, I usually dod’t like it whed people say that…”

“I’m sor--”

“But sobehow whed you do,” he glanced back, swiping a knuckle under his nose and giving that same, soft smile. “I dod’t mide.”

He exited, leaving me staring after him with a mixture of warmth and confusion. Definitely one of the most… unusual... rides I’d ever had.

Throwing the lever into park, I got out to do my usual check of the interior in case the passenger had left something behind. A flash of white tucked by the seatbelt latch caught my eye. Thinking Greek god must have missed one of the used napkin wads, I reached for it.

And pulled out a business card.

“C. B. Decker - Sunfire Technology”

I turned it over.

“Thanks for the ride... Have dinner with me sometime?”

I pulled my head out of the car, staring over my shoulder at his building. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like someone was standing just inside the glazed doors, watching. Turning back to the card in my hand, I bit my lip. It was a violation of my Uber contract if I said yes.

But.

That guy...

Aw, hell. I could get by without the income. Probably.

Maybe.

I looked back at the building, and was now sure I could make out his tall silhouette, tawny mane just a bit disheveled. The figure suddenly bent forward, and I knew.

I kept my eyes on the building as I made a show of putting the card into my pocket. It wasn’t a no. But it wasn’t a yes.

Not yet.

As I drove home for the night, my imagination spun out as I deliberated whether or not to accept. One, he knew I had a cat, was apparently ‘uber’ allergic... and wanted to see me again, anyway. Two, I had been getting tired of driving 30 hours a week, and maybe I could arrange to suspend my contract. Or I could quit, and then get rehired if things didn’t work out… or, if they did...

I crawled into bed, reaching up to stroke Sheba where she always slept on the second pillow. She made a little mew, flipping her head upside down and curling tighter into a furry ball.

As I drifted off to sleep, his delicious sneezes echoed in my dreams…

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helenazbmrskai · 4 years

Text

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

#btsghostie #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts university au #bts roommates au

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thelibrarbian · 3 years

Photo

Alright. Alright, he could do this. He was the Great Papyrus, he knew how to fix bones, he knew how to heal, and Fell wasn't– His HP was stable now. There was no need to panic. It was fine.

Or: Underfell Papyrus is injured on patrol and four skeletons deal with the aftermath.

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Rating: T

Tags: Platonic Edgepuff, Multiverse Shenanigans, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Description of Injuries, Healing Magic, Papyrus Tries His Best, Everyone Needs A Hug, Eventual Fluff

Chapter word count: 1944

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I wrote a thing!

I started working on this for Camp NaNo in April. It was supposed to be a one-shot... it did not want to stay a one-shot :’D

Read on Ao3

or below the cut:

Papyrus rarely slept.

For all the unusualness that this night was about to bring, in this regard it was perfectly normal. It was 1:30 in the morning and Papyrus was wide awake, sitting up against the headboard of his race car-shaped bed and scribbling increasingly intricate puzzle designs into a notebook when he was interrupted by an urgent knocking from the front door.

He silently sprinted down the stairs on sock-clad feet - he didn't want to wake his brother, after all - wondering who could be visiting them this early in the day. Most monsters he knew did not share his sleep schedule (or non-sleep schedule, as the case may be) - the most likely explanation was that Undyne had burned down her house again with a midnight snack.

He skidded to a halt at the door, reaching for the handle. The knocking hadn't stopped; if anything, in the few moments it had taken Papyrus to come downstairs and open the door, it had only grown in intensity.

The monster on the other side was not Undyne.

And Papyrus realized that something was very, very wrong.

He only caught one glimpse of the sharp-toothed, fur-hooded version of his brother before he was pushed aside without so much as a 'hello' as Red staggered past him. It was rare for their parallel universe doubles to visit unannounced, but that surprise quickly faded when Papyrus' eyes fell on the second, larger monster that Red was dragging more than carrying inside.

To say that Fell looked bad would have been an understatement. He was hanging limply in Red's hold, his armor dented and torn open in places, and even though his clothes covered most of where Papyrus suspected the worst injuries to be, what he could see of the damage was bad enough. He thought he could make out several spots of something dark in the snow, leading from the basement to the front door, and he firmly decided to think about it later. Or not at all.

Thick beads of sweat were clinging to Red's forehead as he panted, visibly struggling to hold onto his brother. With a rather undignified noise of alarm, Papyrus sprung into action, helping Red to bring Fell into the living room and lower the tall monster to the ground. Cleaning, too, was something to worry about later.

He saw Red open his mouth, looking as if the next sentence was taking him a lot of effort to get out, then took one glance at Fell's plummeting HP and didn't wait to hear whatever Red was going to say. A second later he was crouching next to his unconscious alternate, his hands on his breastplate - stars, that piece of armor was not supposed to bend this way! - and pushing healing magic into him.

Papyrus was proud to proclaim that he had trained and mastered every aspect of magic at his disposal. He was a formidable fighter and a more than competent healer, but even so, whatever had happened to Fell was almost past Papyrus' abilities. Trying to stop his HP from falling felt as if he was attempting to catch running water with his hands. Which! Was not quite as impossible as it initially seemed, but it took all his concentration to bring the damage down to a slow trickle. He thanked the stars for having blessed him with such a large pool of magic reserves - he did not want to imagine running out in the middle of this.

Just when he thought he was starting to get things under control and could think about asking what in Asgore's name had happened to them, there was a soft huff next to him, then an equally soft thump as, in the corner of his eye, Red slumped to the ground.

"Oh no, not you too!" Papyrus reached out to catch him, but he wasn't quite fast enough - at least the carpet Red had landed on was soft - and as soon as his concentration on the healing slipped, Fell's HP started plummeting again.

Papyrus was not panicking! Solely for the reason that he absolutely could not afford to panic right now! He sent one desperate pulse of green magic in Red's direction before placing both hands on Fell again.

"SANS!!" There was a very small part of him that felt bad for waking his brother at one-something in the morning, but the majority of Papyrus was painfully aware that he did not have nearly enough hands to handle this situation alone. It took a few long seconds (during which Papyrus was absolutely not panicking as he tried to stabilize Fell's HP and prayed that Red wasn't about to dust in the meantime) before he heard shuffling steps upstairs.

"bro, what's-" There was a pregnant pause as Sans, thank the stars, seemed to figure out for himself what was going on. A second later, the familiar sound of a shortcut right next to Papyrus announced that his brother had foregone the stairs entirely on his way down.

Papyrus had no time to watch what exactly Sans was doing, but from the corner of his eye, he noticed him crouching down next to Red for a minute before he got up and disappeared somewhere behind Papyrus. A few moments later, the front door fell shut and the key clicked in the lock. Sans didn't say anything, for which Papyrus was grateful - he couldn't get distracted at the moment. He also didn't seem particularly panicked about Red's state, which Papyrus could only take to mean that his brother's alternate was not about to dust right there and then.

Sans wandered off again to somewhere, and Papyrus returned his full attention to Fell. It took a few more minutes before his HP wasn't dropping any further, and Papyrus finally dared to let his magic fade out.

"don't suppose you know what happened to them?" came Sans' voice from somewhere in front of Papyrus.

"No." He checked Fell again before he dared to look up, first at his brother, then at the unconscious Red next to him. The latter had been arranged into a more comfortable position, a cushion from the couch under his head. "Is Red alright? No, forget that question, what am I saying, obviously he would not be taking an impromptu nap on our living room floor if he was-"

"he should be fine," Sans reassured him before Papyrus could work himself further into his not-panic. "he isn't hurt, just exhausted. one shortcut too many, if i had to guess." He rubbed the back of his head. "'m gonna take him upstairs so he can sleep on a mattress, but… thought you could use a hand here first." He nodded towards the unconscious Fell.

Papyrus relaxed marginally. "Thank you, brother." It was only then that he noticed the first-aid kit on the ground in front of him that Sans must have brought with unusual, but very welcome helpfulness. "And yes, actually - an additional appendage or two would certainly make things easier." He carefully inspected Fell's armor, looking for a way to take it off with the least amount of movement possible.

His caution turned out to be justified. As he and Sans started removing the armor, Papyrus got the disturbing impression that the breastplate was most of what was currently holding Fell's ribcage together. It almost seemed like a miracle when they eventually managed to get the dented pieces of metal off him without causing any further damage.

Sans was looking vaguely nauseous.

The undershirt came off much more easily than the armor, mostly because Papyrus declared it unsalvageable after one look and had no qualms about simply cutting it apart. After his earlier struggle just to get him stabilized, Papyrus knew that what he was about to see would be… not good. He braced himself before he pulled the fabric aside, barely hearing Sans' muttered curse next to him.

He… had not been aware of just how many scars his counterpart had. Not that Fell usually made any attempts to hide them, but it was only now that Papyrus realized that almost every bone he could see was marked in some way. But those injuries were old, and he didn't let himself linger on them when there were much more pressing matters.

The right side of Fell's torso was a mess. There was barely a rib that wasn't broken, cracked, or bruised. Where the largest dent in the armor had been, a section of his ribcage was caved in entirely, the bone fragments just barely held together by magic. At least the healing magic had served to stop the bleeding, though, so Papyrus moved on, wanting to get a full picture first.

Fell's arms were smeared with something that could be either blood or marrow, but the cracks and cuts he found there were relatively minor by comparison. (He decided that it was not the right moment to speculate how much of the blood had belonged to someone else.) The same was true for the rest of the injuries - they were numerous but small, as if Fell had been caught in the middle of a tight bullet pattern, but aside from the ribs nothing looked immediately concerning - until Papyrus reached his legs and found one tibia snapped cleanly in half.

Sans had gone completely silent. When Papyrus glanced over, his sockets had gone dark and he looked like he was about to throw up.

"Sans?"

No response.

Papyrus swallowed dryly. "Brother?" he said, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

Sans jumped slightly, blinking rapidly before his eye lights reappeared - tiny specks of light in his sockets that immediately darted over to Papyrus. "y-yeah? sorry, think i spaced out for a moment." His gaze flicked briefly to the unconscious skeletons on the floor again, then back to Papyrus. "what now?"

"First of all -" Papyrus gently squeezed Sans' shoulder, meeting his eye. "It's going to be okay, brother. This is nothing we can't handle." He adamantly refused to believe anything else. "Okay?"

"'kay."

"Secondly… If you could bring some water and clean towels, that would be much appreciated."

Sans gave a nod and disappeared, returning shortly after with the requested items and a mask of calmness plastered onto his face. If Papyrus hadn't seen him just a minute ago, it might have been convincing.

"Thank you." Papyrus looked his brother over. "I believe Red has been napping on the floor for long enough," he said.

Sans paused for a second before a look of understanding passed over his face. "right." He didn't take the out that Papyrus was trying to give him. Instead of taking Red upstairs and staying there with him, he only lifted him onto the couch and loosely draped a blanket over him before returning to Papyrus' side.

"I am quite certain that I can handle this myself, if you would rather be elsewhere," Papyrus felt the need to clarify.

"'course you can, bro." Sans crouched down next to him. "but an extra hand would help, right? 'm fine, really. just got a bit rattled there for a sec."

Papyrus rolled his eyes, more out of habit than anything else, and Sans' permanent smile became a bit more genuine.

"just tell me what to do." He wiggled his fingers. "extra hands at your service."

Alright. Alright, he could do this. He was the Great Papyrus, he knew how to fix bones, he knew how to heal, and Fell wasn't– His HP was stable now. There was no need to panic. It was fine. And Sans was helping, so it was doubly fine.

He took a deep breath, grabbed the first-aid kit, and got to work.

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #papyrus #sans #underfell papyrus #underfell sans #hurt/comfort #platonic edgepuff #my writing #out of action fic

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

You and Clark make the most of your time together and you clear up some confusion.

Warnings:Adult situations, Smut, Fluff, swearing

A/n: soo here is some Clark smut I have been working on hope you enjoy xx

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @iloveyouyen @magdelen69

Home Sweet Home

Over the past months since you had returned home Clark hadn't managed to get out to you as much as he wanted, silly really you had no problem with it. But he couldnt help wanting to spend every moment of every day with you. He still made it out every weekend without fail. Tho he was cautious ,used to being able the fly in to his mother popping in and out whenever he pleased, but he couldn't do that with you not if he wanted to keep up the apearance of being a regular human. One who had to make a three hour journey to see you over the weekend, he had a system in place making it seem like he left work on friday and came straight to see you then left sunday early evening to get back. Each week you told him he didn't have to make the trip and each week he'd laugh it off telling you to stop being silly, if only you knew the trip took around a minute.If he was having a slow day. The worst part of the week was waiting around his mothers few hours before crossing the field to see you. As terrible as it seems sometimes he is thankfull that Superman is needed it makes the time go quicker.He tries to busy himself but most of the time he just waits it out in his mothers kitchen he had tried staying in the city but prefered being closer to you.

Just hearing the lull of your heart thumping away, or the soft humming you did singing when writing listening to music through your heaphones put him at ease. Sometimes if you had your headphones up loud he would sneak across and watch you work smileing to himself at the cute 'bopping' you did when you really got into a song a few instances getting up from yourseat having a little dance when you made your way to refill your drink. You rarely wrote around him saying you didnt want to waste the time you had together on work. Which was a shame, there was the other smaller things you did that made him smile the way you'd poke your tongue out wetting your lips as you concentrated or furrow your brows when a word escaped you,you'd start listing rhyming words out loud just replacing the first letter until one fit and made sense. He had learned early on when he crept over to make sure his phone was on silent as you'd text him occasionally asking him for synonyms when you couldn't manage to find something that fit.

But his absolute favorite bit was when you would squirm and blush, aroused at your own words, he'd hear your pulse pick up watching as a flush rose across your face you'd normally sip at the ever present coffee or juice that sat beside you, or nibble on the snack you had beside your computer. Something about seeing you work yourself up made him shudder. He would smell your arousal then suddenly you'd pull away from the screen fanning your face or covering it with your hands giggling whispering to your self 'was that to far' and 'lucky bitch I fucking wish'. He'd have to leave when this happend unsure if he could control himself. But when this did happen he always knew that when he came around you'd be biting at the bit to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the hall and on the stairs and the landing where ever you could, once it nearly happend on the porch... Not that he minded but you had freaked out when your lust addled mind heard the combine in the field and realised you was straddling his half naked form in just your panties on the porch. Either way times like that you rarely made it to the bed room. Well thats not strictly true you did once but that was because you lost track of time and thats were he found you, in bed legs spread hips rocking onto one of your toys. He had counted down the seconds that time sitting in his mothers kitchen tapping his fingers impatiently on the table watching the clock, willing time to move faster growling. Much to his Mothers amusment, she could guess what was going on and couldnt help but shake her head feeling a little sorry for you as she watched his face get more and more irritated ,reminding her of the tantrums he had as a child when he couldnt get his own way. His face glowered as he sat there and he listened to your wails of frustration as you desperatly tried to pound a climax out of yourself but couldn't. The only consultation was when he heard the various curses you threw at him turns out he had ruined you...And he couldn't help being smug about it. Hearing you from his mothers house trying to fuck yourself stupid was torture just like it had been that first night he met you. His mother had laughed the next time she saw you both saying she never saw him move so fast in his life, she had that knowing grin of hers as you both flushed and stutter..Martha had to much fun teasing you both making it worse she wondered aloud 'how there was any corn left in the field after the way he cut across it.'

He grinned walking up the stairs to the porch he juggled the bags of groceries opening the door to the house kicking it shut softly behind him slipping off his shoes as he entered. He smiled as he heard you the music from your headphones, you had been working tirelessly today making sure everything was finished. It was Sunday and to your own annoyance you'd gotten your dates mixed up and had to have your new draft completed and emailed in by tomorrow for checking then beta reading.

He walked into the kitchen dropping the groceries on the counter, choosing to let you continue your work. You'd had to send Clark out to do the weekly shop alone. He shook his head hearing you growl at the computer screen in living room. He sighed it was a shitty computer to be fair ,super slow and out dated. He didn't see why you wont just buy a new one, when he brought it up he always got the same answers 'everything is how I want it on here... I know where everything is...I know how it works' he rolled his eyes hearing you grunt at the pc, turning quickly put away the groceries it was best to let you get on with it. It had only been three months since the party but it felt so much longer in a good way you were both absolutely enamored with each other, your relationship was very much sweet and cheesy but neither of you would change a thing. You'd given him a key five weeks ago to all intents and purposes this was his home to you'd even moved all the spare clothes he kept at his mothers and placed them in his own designated side of the walk in wardrobe so he didn't have to always bring a bag each week.

Finally once everything was packed away he stepped through the door to the living room seeing you sitting staring intently at the screen scanning the documents as you flicked the mouse wheel searching for something. He smiled taking in the rare sight he loved watching you work it was the only time you wore your glasses; which he found incredibly sexy even tho you hated them, you thought they made you look older than you were. You felt his eyes and turned to face him and blushed at the sweet smile he had, leaning against the door frame arms crossed he pushed off the door walking towards you. You smiled apologetically at him slipping off your headphones as he came closer.

"I'm so sorry honey...I feel like I've ignored you this weekend...I'm nearly done tho and will have a few weeks off as they proof read it" he shook his head at you

"Don't worry munchkin" he grinned at you and placed a packet of your favourite biscuits on the desk beside you leaning in kissing your head. Your face lit up as you saw them, dark chocolate biscuits covered in white chocolate...

"I got these for you and I was thinking of doing pasta for dinner" you hummed placing your hand on his forearm leaning your head against it as he moved rubbing your shoulders.

"But I do Clark..We dont get much time together and I hate having to work when your here." he sighed as you pouted at him.

"Well I love seeing you work...It's the only time I get to see you in these" you scoffed as he poked the rim of your cat eye glasses, rolling your eyes you shook your head"I hate them." he nodded

"You might but I think they are very sexy anyway you carry on and i will go put dinner on then we can relax for the night" you huffed stealling a glance at the clock in the corner of your screen. Three pm. you sighed youd been at this since ten this morning you had saved your drafts all over the place and had to re-read many of them to make sure you was sending the correct ones out.

"No leave it I will do dinner just give me ten minutes-" he stopped you in your tracks with a raised hand and soft sigh

"No you do dinner every week I'm going to cook for you tonight" you smiled at him. This man was so sweet you couldnt help the warmth flood you, he made you feel all weak and giddy. He made to move away but you caught his wrist making him look at you.

"Thank you...But I promise to make it up to you after dinner" a slow grin formed across his face you could feel his excitment mount and kissed your lips tugging your hair back forcing you to moan giving him the access he wanted quickly lapping at your tongue nipping and sucking at it grunting as you tried pinning his down falling into a teasing battle. Which he won as usual slowly and reluctantly you pulled back sighing, one kiss was enough for your stomach to twist and your center to ignite. he pulled away retreating to the kitchen with a wink. You licked your bottom lip and twisted in your seat to carry on moving the files around into order as you heard him move around the kitchen. After another fifteen minutes of checking and double checking you smiled and moved opening your Gmail and began typing one out to your publisher attaching the book in order chapter by chapter. After sending it you waiting for the sent icon then switched off your external hard drive that held all of your writing and back ups.

Just as you closed everything and stood at full height behind your chair stretchering out your legs, headphones still in place you sighed moving the mouse then swore loudly.

"You? what are-OH MY GOD NO! NOOO! no no please you cant- YOU DON'T DO THAT!! FUCK...FUCK YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!" At your shouts Clark moved to the door watching as you frantically clicked your mouse he then saw the problem. A bright blue screen staring back at you. He shook his head he told you needed a new computer. You leaned further curseing as you computer died before your eyes.

"You-fuck you fuck you fuck you in the ass!" You growled and ripped off your head phones and sighed placing them on the desk glaring at the computer hanging your head sighing frustrated.

"That sounds like an invitation~" He moved quietly walking towards you and quickly sloted himself tight against your bent over form making you gasp cast a look behinde you going to stand straight but he stopped you with a slow hand pressing on your back keeping you in place making you flush. But quickly shook it off looking at the screen before you.

"Clark? Clark! oh my god Clark fix it- save it please you can can't you? is it salvageable? I swear you can fuck my ass if you fix it! " He laughed out loud at the way you casually offered your ass as collateral. He grabbed you placing both hands on your hips keeping you bent over the chair and looked to the pc.

"I'm afraid that is the blue screen of death...And I wont be able to fix it babe" He held you securely. You groaned at his remark whining dejected turning your face to him looking at the pc.

"Nooo... It can't...I don't want a new one!" you felt him hum grinding against you slowly. and just like that you were ready to go your blood pumping hot in your veins your pussy tensing preparing itself for the inevitable. You wanted to jump him there and then.

"Well I'm afraid you have no choice now munchkin, it has died" Your whine became a gasp as he moved finding a perfect spot to have you squirming, gyrating his crotch on your ass you shook your head and pouted. You leaned back as he arched over your form and kissed his jaw, wanting to make him as hot and bothered as you. He grunted humping his hips against you making reveling in your broken moans and breathless gasps. He felt your body humming to life withering against him.

"Wh-what am I gonna do? I don't know anything about this tech stuff" he smiled unable to resist moving closer to you letting you reach up and nuzzle his neck. His cock held snug between the two of you, so tight you felt him throbbing despite the thick jeans he wore, he groaned as you clenched your ass squeezing him lightly.

"Well I can help you there, I will find you a replacement" You dragged your lips across his skin and licked at his pulse then sucked harshly giving another firm squeeze with your cheeks making him moan Breathlessly. He fisted his hand resting it on the top of your ass. You giggled feeling him completely hard against your ass and wriggled hell bent on have a quicky befor dinner. He quickly brought his hand down making you hiss as the cotton did nothing to protect you from his open palm you whimpered when he kicked out your feet spreading your legs making you feel the damp cotton on your slit, your needy little center weeping onto your shorts now that you were held open. He smirked smelling your arousal then pressed harder. Not to be out done he tilted down pressing his balls to your mound searching for your clit and was rewarded with a high gasp as he found it. You jumped up trying to escape him but to no avail his palms held you still and the chair infront of you was wedged tight into your hips giving you no wiggle room. Without wasting anytime he moved insistently grinding on it relentlessly.

"Will-Fuck CLARK! will you-ca-clam down for a second?" he chuckled still moving against you in a teasing rhythm you sighed. That was your answer then.

"Cl-clark will the ne-oohh fuck please!" you begged quickly tensing holding the desk for dear life dropping your head hissing and grinding back on him as his jeans caused a delicious friction against your pussy. the rough fabric almost chafing you despite your shorts

"Yes love?"

"F-Fuck you! oh UGh! God please please? dont-YOur a shit! Will it be the same?" he huffed out a laugh enjoying the way you wriggled below him still trying to slip out from under him, dipping his face to you kissing behind you ear then huffed a deep breath to the shell of your ear. Your moans got higher and more desperate as he set a firm steady pace on your throbbing clit making you shudder your insides clenching tight with every drag of his hips. You were close he could tell from the way you trembled, legs unsteady the only thing holding you up was the back of the chair holding your hips high for him.

"I'm afraid not love, computer's don't come with xp anymore...How you have kept it running for so long I have no idea... Your new one will have windows ten" you groaned loudly slumping forward panting trying to push yourself back to him wanting to match his pace, or better yet beat it. You were so close feeling the heat pooling just above your pussy traveling down. You could feel yourself building fast and doubled your efforts unable to keep quiet as you tried to ride him into your climax with a frantic pace.

"OH OH-fuUUCK yes please please yes C-ClaAARK?!" you all but cried as he moved back just when you was about to cum. He chuckled patting your hip and retreated as you twisted round questioning him. You growled when you was met with a smug grin.

"Come on love dinner should be ready we can talk about it later for now lets try to forget it hmm?" you grunted and moved your hand to your shorts fully intending on finishing yourself off but he caught it shaking his head

"I dont think so~ you stay just as you are and we can continue after dinner" you gapped at him. What? you had to sit like this for dinner, blushing you tugged the shorts out of your ass he wrapped you up in his arms again kissing the top of your head. You sighed casting one last glance at the screen. There was nothing you could do tonight he moved back to the kitchen to dish up and you removed your glasses placing them on the shelf at the pc.

After dinner you found yourself putting the dishes away. He hummed twisting his head watching as you bent over to the bottom cupboard putting the pan's away. He bit his lip watching your tiny shorts rise up high almost disappearing between your cheeks, they rose high enough that it was clear you had opted to forgo any panties today... Fuck your ass was perfect. He was actually annoyed over the fact that he couldn't fix your pc, he would have definietly held you to your word. He licked his lips groaning as the creamy skin of the bottom of your cheeks peaked from the floral cotton shorts. His dick twitched uncomfortably in his jeans still excited from earlier wanting to just shuck down the flimsy shorts and use your perfect little body, fuck you till his heart content. He smiled slyly and silently he moved behind you. You squeaked as you felt him press himself tight against your slit and tugged pulling you out of the cupboard moving you into a slow rocking dance sucking at your neck, hands moving across your hips to your waist pulling your top up as he went catching the underside of your wireless sports bra, you didn't resist as he pulled them both completely off dropping them to the floor.

"Clark? whats gotten into you?" all you got in response was a dark chuckle by your ear as he bit at it making your toes curl and your heart pick up. You tried turning to face him but he just hummed at you smoothing his heavy palms back down across your skin cupping and pinching your already hard nipples still swaying slowly then trailed them to your waist making you shiver.

"I remember someone saying they would make this weekend up to me after dinner~" you shivered at the teasing tone he used and tried turning to him once more. Only for him to hold your pebbled nipples using them to force you still and grinded his bulge up and down the crack of your ass.

"Yes but not in the kitchen!" he hummed then looked around and grinned.

"Why not? the only room we have left to christen~" his tone became low and reverberated through your chest making you groan as memories of all the different rooms you'd fucked in flashed through your mind. He was right kitchen and loft attic. You'd even fucked in the basement when trying to sort out the fuse box after a powercut. The old 'is that a torch in your pocket or are you happy to see me?' resulting in a quick fuck against the wall.

Before you knew what was what you were being sat on the dining table you blinked...How did he move so fast?. Clark cursed himself for letting his eagerness get the better of him but brushed it off, if he ignored it so would you. Hopefully. Before you could dwell on the movement he had pressed firmly against you, tugging your legs wide around him making you moan grinding against him. You were still wet and wanting from earlier and didn't want to waste time on foreplay now, squirming in your seat threw dinner had made you impatient. Too impatient.

He laughed as you grabbed a fist full of his hair tugging him down into a furious kiss trying to get your point across. He was quick to dominate your mouth he angled his head to kiss you deeper groaning irritated as the move made his glasses rub the bridge of his nose. Smiling you moved your hands up and pulled his glasses out of the way sliding them across the table. You took a moment to admire him, he was stunning you'll admit you loved him with them on, it gave him a shy and sweet nerdy vibe and made him less intimidating. But without them. My god he was breathtaking so fucking UGH! he looked like a sin itself and had the nerve to still have a boyish charm, that had your insides quivering each time he flashed a smug little grin. He had a face people would pay surgeons millions for and it was all natural! how the fuck?. You moved your hands to his face moving slow you rubbed the slight red on his nose where the glasses had rested, he smiled closeing his eyes as you did he always enjoyed your loving touches. He moved down to your face twisting down to devour your mouth again this time uninterrupted by the glasses. You grunted letting him do as he pleased with you even helping him when he shuffled moving his hands to the waist of your shorts, with a few quick tugs you were sitting but ass naked on the table. You felt him smirk into the kiss pulling back taking in the view of you panting, needy and stripped waiting to be ravished by him.

He moved fast shedding his clothes kicking his boxers off behind him then quickly tangled himself around you again bending one of your knees up placing one foot on the table beside you. Spreading you open for him, he swallowed as he saw your soaked center as much as he wanted to feast away at the puffy lips he was far to gone, his teasing eariler had him on the brink already he needed to be balls deep asap. He took the small steps towards you moving his hand probing at your wide open slit moving smearing your arousal across you, always checking before diving in he didn't want to hurt you. You screeched as he teased your boiling little bud, it felt ready to burst; you was ready to burst wanting nothing more then to fall apart at the seams around him. He moved closer still running the crown of his weeping cock across your center. Resting his forehead on yours watching with dark eyes as your mouth formed a perfect 'o' keening and mewling as he kept a fast pace on your clit moving from rolling and plucking the tight button then tapped it. You whined panting faster as his fingers toyed with you, moving you locked eyes with him. The heated gaze was what drove you into your first orgasm of the night, you loved when he watched you, it made you feel dirty and sexy. Your body froze arching up and quaking, shivering moaning high and broken. Just as you began to come down he moved to capture your cum on his cock running it across your spasming center dipping in slowly hissing as the heat scorched his swollen head."Best not let that go to waste huh babe?"you moaned loudly and bucked towards him unable to form words making him smirk watching you tremble as the small stimulation made your climax last longer your pussy fluttering trying to swallow him.

"F-FuUCK CL-CLark please please I..I can't wait oh-AHNO!...UGH-STOP te-teasing meeee" he chuckled against you pressing a chaste kiss to you then slowly he tilted himself before grunting thrusting into you making your give a strangled moan.

Tho you still struggled with his size and he had the internal struggle of holding himself back as not to use to much of his strength. You had both become more confident, he knew just how much you could take at once. He'd found that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed a bit of pain. You tried catching the breath he had just fucked out of you as he quickly forced himself into your tiny heat pressing the last of his cock into you, your body yielded accepting him slowly. You cried out as he finally settled himself.

"FUUCK! fuck babe your still so tight~ such a good girl for me so good...fucking waited all week for this, I hope your ready?~" you moaned at his words he held himself still gritting his teeth, he had to pull himself in taking a second to maintain his control lest he moved too hard and snap one of your bones or something. Finally he opened his eyes then with a deep breath pulled back and began a slow deliberate pace making sure to catch your swollen little bud on each upward thrust making you yelp and withered below him.

He always love the small little gasps you made, the way you tried keeping yourself quiet it always made it sweeter when he forced you to scream for him. Connecting his mouth to yours he swallowed your breathless pleas as he moved back and forth. You feel hot and prickly as your nerves ignited you felt yourself clenching him, muscles working overtime as he put your body through its paces yet still your wonton pussy was inviting him deeper ,fighting to spread your legs further for him. He smirked seeing the frustration in your eyes as you tried to open your legs further for him, he pulled you closer to the edge of the table making you fall back on and your foot slipped. His hand ceased your knee and held it high keeping you stretched out for him, once he was sure you were secure he moved faster groaning as your walls tensed clamping around him as he began to pound away faster and harder with jerking movements. You closed your eyes tears rolled down your face as he kept going driving you higher and higher making you body twitch and tense. You screeched as he moved one hand to your chest cupping and squeezing your breast then he pinched your nipple pulling making you arch up into him the movement let him sink further into you as he fucked himself right into your cervix; something that you now craved, you loved it feeling the tiny pop as he forced himself as far as he could go. The way as soon as he felt that happen he seemed to rut into you with renewed vigor, like a primal need to breed you overcame him. It always made you weak, pushing you into a lust fueld frenzy as you tried mtaching his pace.

"Fuck y/n uUGH SHIT fuck your so good SOOO FUCKING GOOD YESyes thats it....AGH CUM! Yesyesyes shit I-CAN haha YO-YOUR TRYING ARENT YOU?" He ground out and alternated between grinding harshly making sure to press his pelvic bone on your vulnerable clit, and fucking you beyond what you thought was humanly possible.

"I can feel it! UHHGG YES BABY FUCK! CUM CUM NOW!!" You Obeyed screaming out gripping the edge of the table and curled up towards him tense as he forces you into your climax you shook bringing up your other leg as you gyrated against him unable to control yourself.

"Fuck-OOOHHH GOOD CL-CLARK yesyesyesyes please dont-dont stop love dont stop AH!" you panted throwing your head back as he fucked you through your orgasm, he was quick to cup the back of your head so you wouldnt hurt yourself as you shattered around him. He wasnt far behind you, his own end was creeping up on him he could feel it in the way his balls tghtened, the way your body was cramping around him made his cock twitch. he movements became sloppy as he groaned louder and louder.

"Fuck...sh-SHIT BaBE I'M GOnna FUUUUUCK YES THATS IT TAKE IT!" you wept when he rutted up into you one final time. He swore feeling squeezing his eyes tight then bit his bottom lip as he felt his eyes warm the tell tale tingling of him loosing control again he held himself still tuckjngnhis chin tight to his chest willing himself to calm down as he filled you. You shivered as he released, finishing as deep inside you as he could get then he held still you lolled back you twitch feeling his thighs quivering against you. You moaned weakly feeling his hot cum shoot up into you and smiled at him reaching up for him. He sighed finally feeling the tingling in his yes recede then opened his eyes slowly looking down through halflidded eyes and smiled panting. He moved kissing your knee softly then nipped you winced at him grunting reaching for him, he chuckled seeing how fucked out you were and lowered his face kissing you deep it wasnt long as you were both still out of breath. You blushed running your hands across him making him shudder as your nails tickled his sides. . He moved over you his hands molding to your sides tucking his head into your chest breathing you in ,you blinked tiredly moving to draw over his back he moaned and relaxed groaning out.

"I love you woman" you moved and racked a hand through his hair scratching his scalp making him groan contently. You poked his cheek and held out his glasses to him with the other.

"I love you to baby...come on up" you said patting him he grunted and moved to stand and carfully dislodged himself from you making you wince.

You tried to jump down and ended up yelping curling over holding your lower tummy. Although you may have both gotten used to sex and always enjoyed it, you still had light pain afterwards much to clarks regret. He looked down sympathetically

"Babe?" You waved him off and slowly stood straight resting one hand on his chest as he crowded you you whined taking a step which made him frown. This was what he hated about your size difference the hour or so of pain you endured after. He scooped you up making his way tothe stairs muttering apologies which you scoffed at, he moved to the bathroom medicine cabinet and pulled out some paracetamol offering you two. You took them quickly as he turned running you a bath. You sighed watching him fuss over you placing a towel on the heated rack for whennyou bet out and he added your favourite bubble bath to the water. He stopped leaning on the tub beside you.

"Im sorry, I try not to get carried away" you rolled your eyes

"I wouldn't have it any other way clark, I love you,I love our sex life! And besides its not as bad now as it was...we just have to keep at it....Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world now would it?" He smiled at that then placed you in the water sitting on the floor beside you. You giggled when he hissed as his naked ass touched the cool tiled floor.

"You know you could probably just squeez in with me~" he gave you a pout.

"Okay maybe not....we should get a bigger tub, a deeper one. One that covers my knees and tits!" He bellowed a laugh at that and nodded.

"I will put it on my to do list..really I've got to get some tools around here and make a start" you moved around the tub grabbing an exfoliating mit soaking and wringing it then began washing yourself.

"You got a wash cloth in there babe?" You looked at him seeing him staring at his glistening cock.

"What not do not tell me you have been using these ones? Clark? These are used on my face!" You gasped at him he just blinked at you

"I rinse them after" you sputtered at him.

"No! fucking get a new one from under the sink...The black one use the black one for that I don't want your cum on my fa- NOT A FUCKING WORD!" He snorted raising an eyebrow chuckling at your bright red cheeks and quickly got up fetching a new black cloth from under the sink and stood infront of it washing himself off still laughing out of the side of his mouth shaking his head.

"Any way what do you need tools for I'm not letting you change the bath over if thats what your getting at" you said moving to wash down your now soft legs. He kept his back to you but turned his head still wiping himself down.

"No I wont touch the plumbing, but the barn needs to be painted, theres a few loose boards on the back of the house and some tiles on the roof are missing, you also mentioned wanting a few planters out the back and a patio which would be nice for the summer then we can decorate our room-" he froze and blinked cutting himself off and took a breath.

"Y/n I'm sorry its just I'm so comfortable here and I forget this-" you cut him off as he tried to backtrack his own self consciousness rearing its ugly little head.

"So what did you have in mind for our room?" He looked at you stunned for a second trying to process what you said.

"You don't- I mean its not my house so" you frowned turning to him

"Look at me dumbass...My home is your home, you might not be here full time but its still your home. I thought I made that clear when I gave you the key. If I didn't then I'm sorry but I am now. Clark I'm in this for the long haul and I can see us making a life here together so why not have your input on the decorating we have lots of rooms to do as you can see I have only done the kitchen, hall and living room.. The living room isn't even finished and don't get me started on the garden" he stood speechless he hadn't thought you felt like that, sure he stayed here and had made himself at home, he treated it like a home but for you to say it...It warmed his heart honestly standing there now he could see it, in years to come living here full time with a small army of your kids running... flying about the place between here and their grandma's house across the way.

"So what did you think about doing in the bed room I want to keep the paneling but lighten it up...make it fun you know? that dark wood is horrendous"

"Well I thought of keeping the wooden panels repainting them white to match the floor and on the wall above it having a really bright vibrant wallpaper like something tropical like the parrot wallpaper or just palms" You smiled nodding it was pretty much what you wanted but you was going to paint the wall above teal.

"I like the idea of the parrots that would be really nice we could have a tropical theme" he stood there grinning unsure of what to do with himself he was still reeling from the revelation that this house had become his home in such a short space of time and it truly was they always did say home was where the heart is he definitely understood what they meant now, his own apartment seemed empty just bricks and mortar.

He was kicking himself in a way, if he told you he was superman he could come home whenever he liked! Hell he would make the move and stay here full time tomorrow if he could, its not like travelling to work was going to be a problem. But no he decided he would wait until at least six months had past just to air on the side of caution unless something happened where he had no choice but to reveal himself to save your life, which reminds him he did want to let the league know who you were soon so they could watch out for you just like you were all doing with Bruces new girlfriend and her little brother. He jumped pulled out of his thought by you waving your arms around infront of his face.

"Ah sorry love what was you saying I spaced out a bit there" you nodded giggling at him he really had.

"Welcome back...I asked if you wanted to jump in after me? Im almost done" he shook his head at you

"No I'm all sorted for now will have a shower when I get back tonight. Now you stay up here and get ready for bed we can watch tv for a while before I have to leave. I will go and clean up downstairs and get you a wheat cushion" You moved your head from side to side contemplating

"Actually I was hoping to come back with you...Im going to have a few weeks off now before I have to start writing again so thought I could stay with you for a bit" his face lit up at the prospect of having you with him for a few weeks

"That would be great! We can get you a new computer...maybe a laptop would be better either way there's bound to be better deals in metopolis then you can get used to it by the time you have to start work again" you smiled nodding.

"Sounds like a plan what time is your train"

"Six fifteen we should be at the apartment by nine thirty" you nodded that gives you around two hours to pack a bag and get ready. He leaned over giving you one last kiss then left. You stared through the open door as he made his way to the bedroom, watching his pert ass as he moved you pouted knowing he was going to go throw on some clothes,it was a shame he had to cover that glorious ass. Once he was out of sight you laid back in the tub you couldn't wait to spend a few weeks with him and then to come home and start turning this house a home for the both of you.

#superman smut #superman x reader #superman imagine #clark kent imagine #clark kent smut #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #dc x reader #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc imagine #superman x you #superman x y/n

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volleyball-dontknowher · 4 years

Text

Jealous Karasuno

A/N: I started this before I wrote the other one so Tsuki and Kageyama’s are both similar to the other one

7.7 K words

It’s all under the cut. Enjoy!

Daichi:

You were a power couple to say the least, Daichi was the boys volleyball captain, a smart classmate and a reliable friend to everyone. You were the dance team captain, also a genius and rumored to be the Hottest babe in school. The two of you on your own were strong, but together the two of you were damn near invincible. Whenever you would walk through the hallways together people would stare at the two of you and you would always smile at them or give them a friendly good morning. You both were super busy with your sports but when you weren’t being the best parents in the world the two of you spent a lot of time together. You would study together, go to dinner together, read together, nap together, everything together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way because you just loved him so much. The volleyball team knew you and the dance team knew him, it was perfect.

It was a training camp weekend and that meant your favorite boy was gone for the whole weekend. Lucky for you the weekend was busy for you as well, you had practice until late on Friday, then you had early morning practice Saturday, followed by a team pool party. The practices went by super fast and it was now time for the party. You weren’t an aggressive swimmer so you opted for a pink flowery strapless top and black bottoms.

You got there early to help set up the snack table and make sure that everyone knew where they were going. Once all of the girls got there you reminded them to put on sunscreen and told them they would still have to dance no matter how burnt. The party was so much fun, you guys took several cute pictures together and the team manager (who hates swimming) got a lot of super cute shots of you guys playing marco polo and chicken in the pool. At the end of the party you ate wayyy too much and had a blast with your girls. You helped clean up before parting ways with the girls you loved so much.

After you got home you noticed that your phone was buzzing like crazy, it was your team manager sending all of the pictures she took today to everyone. You scroll through the pictures and save all of the ones that you liked. You decided you were going to post a couple of the pictures from today with a cheesy caption like Dance team? Who's that? This is the swim team or something cute like that.

Hours away at the training camp the boys have just finished for the day and were all heading to shower and get changed. First Daichi responds to all of your texts from the day, Have a great day!Don't forget to drink enough water. I don’t want you to pass out, We should totally try this new recipe I found for churros when you get back. The whole time he’s answering he’s blushing because he can imagine you telling him all of these things with nothing but love in your eyes. He then sees the notification that you posted on instagram (yes he has your notifications on, he wants to be the fist person to comment on every post of yours) and when he opens up the post his mouth drops. You really just posted yourself in a bikini where everyone could see it. Sure you look hot but do you know how many people will see that post. He knows at least everyone on his team follows you, almost everyone at school follows you and there are tons of strangers that follow you too. He’s upset deep down but still manages to comment a little You’re stunning babe <3. He usually doesn’t put babe in comments because well your entire page is full of the two of you smiling together at all of your little dates around town, even though you are obviously taken that doesn’t stop people from trying to slide into your dm’s and confessing their love for you no matter how obvious it is that you aren’t interested. He sends you a quick goodnight, I love you! text before putting his phone away and going to bed.

When he wakes up he double checks to see if he was just making up the whole thing in his head or if you really did post that. You did. It had over 200 likes from people and tons of comments (most from your teammates telling you how pretty you were) but some of the comments were from complete strangers. He again, pushed his emotions aside and finished the day of training.

Somehow Ukai drove extra fast and he ended up home a whole hour earlier than they thought. He texted you and asked if you wanted to go to dinner with him because he was starving and everyone else way wayyy too tired. You of course agreed and met him at your favorite little spot. He was exhausted and you could tell immediately that he was tired and needed to go to sleep and go to bed.

You two chatted about camp forever before he looked down at his food and didn’t meet your eyes, “Hey, I just wanted to let you know you looked gorgeous yesterday, I’m sad I missed it”

“What’s wrong?” you’re scowling at him, “you don’t just tell a girl she’s pretty without looking at her. What is it?”

He tries to think of any excuse but quickly realizes that you won’t fall for anything that he tells you so he decides to be honest “I don’t know, I just don’t like the idea of so many people getting to see you in a swimsuit and commenting things about how gorgeous you are. That’s my job. But I’m also not saying that you shouldn’t post any pictures because you are so pretty and I don’t know I just love you a lot.”

You grin at him “Damn right that’s your job and that’s why your comment is the only one that matters, because you’re the only guy who matters to me. You’re the only one who can compliment me and make me blush, and the only boy who makes me always happy. I love you and only you.” He smiles, and you smile, that was all it took for any worry to be taken from his mind, you two are perfect for each other and that is just proof.

(After they go to nationals you definitely post a picture of you hugging him with some super caption like Number one on the court AND number one in my heart)

Suga:

Sugawara is impossible to shop for, absolutely impossible. He would tell you he loved the dirty sock you stole from Hinata because it was from you. Therefore you had no idea what he would actually want and what would make him happy. You two went window shopping frequently and he never had anything that he was particularly fond of. You two agreed that for the first 11 months dating you wouldn’t get each other things and instead plan a great date for the two of you. You guys have been to nice restaurants, drive in movies, zoo’s, museums, theme parks, and picnics. But now your one year anniversary was coming up and the pressure was on. You had to do something and it had to be perfect.

The first time he saw the two of you together Suga didn’t think too much about it. You and Daichi had been friends and he trusted the two of you with his whole heart. You both smiled when you saw him and he just joined in the conversation's easy peasy. The second time he caught the two of you together Suga wasn’t sure what you were doing. When he asked what was up you both stuttered “I don't know'' and that you were just talking. He had no idea what was happening but you both were acting a little weird.

The third time you two were caught it was behind the gym talking privately. Daichi had brought you the goods and there was no way he could’ve given it to you in class or someone would have seen and told Suga right away. You two are walking back from the exchange and the goods were in your backpack.

“What are you two doing together again? Why are y-”

“Koushi Sugawara stop that right this very second.” You walk up to him and grab his hand, “We aren’t up to anything, I promise you. He was simply doing me a favor, please don’t think it is anything more than that because it isn’t”

He looks at you and then at Daichi and back at you and can’t help but feel bad, he really almost jumped to conclusions about his girlfriend and his best friend. Daichi pats him on the back as he walks by with one of those bro it’s okay looks. You give Suga a quick kiss on the cheek before sending him to practice, you have work to do. Daichi had given you a collection of pictures that him and all of the boys had taken of Suga throughout high school and you were going to make him two different scrapbooks. One of the scrapbooks was going to be of his time playing volleyball and all of the successes he’s had playing and the other was going to be memories of the two of you from the past year with pictures of all of your dates.

It was the day of your one year anniversary and you guys were going to go to a nice dinner and you were going to give him your presents. You got to the restaurant and the two of you were super excited to have some time to yourself. Dinner went fantastically and he loved your present so much it made him so happy. He got you a blanket that had your favorite memories on them. It was an amazing date and you thought that nothing could go wrong.

That was until a guy cat called you across the street “Hey sexy let me show you a good time!”

The guy was watching you and Suga pulled you into a kiss and wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you close to him.

“SHE’S TAKEN THANKS THOUGH! THERE ARE PLENTY OF OTHER PEOPLE YOU CAN BOTHER SOMEWHERE ELSE!” You loved him so much and you couldn’t wait for the next year you got to spend with him.

Asahi:

You and Asahi together, perfection. You two make each other laugh and smile and cry all the time. The two of you are also style icons, you both have an amazing sense of style and when you walk in the room people are always impressed. If it’s the school uniform then you have on matching earrings and a little necklace, and he has a belt and a nice watch on. On the weekends you two like to coordinate your outfits together and you even take to doing his hair to be like yours. You two go out with half up half down, messy buns, neat buns and if you’re really lucky you get to dutch braid the top and put the extra hair into a messy bun and have the rest down. You loved doing this because it brought the two of you together and he loved that he didn’t have to worry about doing his hair or what anyone would think (because he wouldn’t care his girl did it for him and always told him he was cute).

With such fast paced lives you both liked keeping things low key and avoiding accidentally adding more stress to your lives. Which was why when a new cat cafe opened up down town you two were quick to book a table. The two of you loved going to coffee shops together and you both loved cats so this was going to be perfect.

When the day finally came you both took a little extra time to dress up. You were both looking stunning, both in dark blue tops with cute bottoms and the little half up half down braided hairstyles. You both head off to the cafe hand in hand arguing about who was THE cutest. It was so fun you both were so happy when you entered the cafe. LIttle did you know your table was directly in the center of the cafe and all of the cats were loving it. You were in the hotspot of the cat cafe and the two of you couldn’t have had a better time together. You got so many pictures of the two of you with the cats. Every cat in the cafe was up for adoption therefore every cat you got to pet you both wanted to adopt. Both you and Asahi had to keep reminding each other that neither of you needed a cat.

“Excuse me, ma’am your soup” you were completely distracted by the big cat laying in your lap and when you looked up there was a young man smiling at you with your bowl of soup. “I see that you are petting Squishy, she’s a real sweetheart.”

“I can tell! She’s a sweetheart!” And with that he left.

You both started eating and you both shared your food with each other because you were indecisive and so Asahi ordered the item that you couldn’t choose between.

“Are you enjoying your food?” The waiter was back and making direct eye contact with you.

“Yes, it’s delicious thank you!” You smile up at him and he nods and leaves. You turn back to the conversation you were having with Asahi.

A cat jumped up onto the table and stuck his head into your drink. All you could do was laugh because he was so big and so fluffy. Before you knew it the waiter was at your table with a new drink claiming that you needed a new one right away. It was faster than it should have been and he wouldn’t have known unless he was watching you. Asahi was always reluctant to jump to conclusions because the guy was only doing his job, but he was only paying attention to his girlfriend and was even watching them eat. He thought it was obvious that the two of you were together and you were having such a great time that he didn’t want to ruin it by saying anything. That was true until the waiter set down the to go boxes and his number was written on top of yours.

“She needs a new box. Now. Please.” The waiter looked shocked, “She is my girlfriend and you have been flirting with her this whole time. Don’t say anything just get us a new box so we can go,” he smiled up at the waiter. The manager heard the entire thing and brought the new box before the waiter had the chance to apologize. He offered to pay for your meals but neither of you could let that happen, and you still even tipped. It was not the restaurant's fault and you both were way too sweet for them to let anything like that happen. You did get a coupon for a free dessert because the manager wouldn’t let you leave without it. The moment you two left the little cafe Asahi pulled you into a big possessive kiss. He pulls you close to him before repeatedly apologizing for causing a scene but he couldn’t handle the waiter trying to thirst after his girl.

Noya:

It was a typical Saturday afternoon for you and Noya, you were both at his house and you two were watching a movie, well making fun of a movie. It was supposed to be the film of the year but neither of you could see how a 26 year old could even possibly pass for a 17 year old, it was just horrible. You cuddled together on the couch and had a good time laughing about the sarcastic remarks that were being made back and forth. Once the movie was over you two were starving, you decided you wanted to order takeout from somewhere.

“Hey, Asahi mentioned that he liked this little shop downtown, maybe we could try it out?”

“Yeah, sure Y/N, I hope it’s not that gross organic place he keeps talking about.”

The two of you make your way downtown, walking the whole way holding hands and just telling your favorite stories from past week, he started with a story about how him and Tanaka had got in trouble for trying to go a whole practice ignoring Hinata and once Daichi found out they had to do drills only passing to Hinata for the rest of practice for being rude.

It was your turn to share a story from this week and you decided to share a story from practice that Noya misseed. You were a manager for Karasuno and you knew how to play some but you definitely were not good enough to play for the girls team. You were helping Asahi with his spikes and he had accidentally hit the ball way too hard and way too high and it ended up getting stuck on the back-board of the basketball hoop. The two of you tried jumping for it but neither of you could reach (you obviously couldn’t but it was still fun to try). So you had the great idea of using a broom to knock it loose, that was tall enough but it couldn’t hit the ball art the right angle. So the next step was to get on Asahi’s shoulders and knock the ball loose with the broom. It was a fun story and you made a lot of the whoosh and wap noises to go alone with it and Noya seemed to love it. But he was stuck thinking how this was the second time today you had mentioned something about Asahi and he has no right to be jealous of one of his best friends but he couldn’t help but wonder why you don’t talk about him like that.

The two of you get to the restaurant and order your food without any wait. The service was fast and the food was amazing.

“I’m gonna have to tell Asahi that this place really was as good as he said!”

“Okay..” You didn’t have to ask, you knew he was jealous, when he’s jealous he gets sassy and he doesn’t want to sass you so he always keeps quiet when it’s something you’ve done. If it’s someone else though he is in their face and a little firecracker.There was one time a guy whistled at you from across the street and Noya was across the street and in the guy’s face before you even processed what had happened. He was so angry and so determined to put the guy in his place that his presence made him seem 7 feet tall. This however, was not that kind of jealousy, it was the insecure jealousy that came out whenever he felt like he wasn’t good enough, or tall enough, or pretty enough or whatever not good enough he had stuck in his head.

“Yuu Nishinoya, what’s wrong?” You give him THE look and he knows you know he’s jealous. He glances to the floor and starts to fidget with his thumbs. He didn’t think he was being obvious about it (he was) and you read him like a book.

“If this is about me talking about Asahi today you have to remember that I have known him since I was four. We’re neighbors, remember, our moms have book club together every Wednesday. He is the reason that the two of us met, after four years of throwing him balls in the backyard he suggested that I become a manager so that we could keep hanging out. Then when I started crushing on you he always found ways for the two of us to get to drills together so I would ‘have a chance to talk to him’ and encouraged me to actually flirt with you. Asahi is like an older brother to me, kinda annoying at times but sweet when it matters most. Besides could you ever EVER see me dating someone like that? He’s way too tall like I couldn’t even kiss him, then he isn’t goofy so I would be bored all the time and he doesn’t make me smile every time I look at him. The thought of even dating him is a big no so stop being jealous and kiss me you dork.”

He does, happily, “Sorry for being jealous, it’s just-”

“Stop right there, you’re the boy I love and that’s the end of the story okay?”

“Okay.”

Tanaka:

It was no secret that you and Tanaka were dating, he was the type to wrap his arm around your shoulder and point at you as you two walked down the hall and be like “This is my babe, isn’t she smoking hot” and no matter how many times you told him it was embarrassing because they are your classmates he still did it. Tanaka loved you with his entire heart and would kiss the ground you walked on because you were there. It was no surprise that he loved everything about you and that the two of you could just sit and stare at each other for hours and call it a date. Well today you had planned the most amazing date for you and Ryuu to go on together and you were so excited that the day was finally here.

You agreed to meet at your favorite place to get breakfast together. You were already there when he arrived and you two enjoyed a wonderful breakfast together laughing the whole time. When you were done and had paid you got up from the table and nearly killed Tanaka. You were wearing a black cropped tank top and a little black skirt that had shiny stars all over it. He was shocked, how was his babe wearing something as sexy as this out of the house. He is instantly behind you with both hands on your waist so that there is a 0% chance that anyone will see your butt out of the end of the skirt. He knows it’s long enough but if people are sitting and you are standing there’s definitely a chance.

You two get outside the restaurant and all Tanaka can turn to you and say is, “babe, what are you wearing?”

“Do you not like it?” You ask him with innocent eyes as you grab his hand and start leading him to the next part of your date.

“I-I no, I love it just don’t you think that-”

“Think what?”

“Nothing, nevermind” He drops it for now but he cannot help but keep looking over at your gorgeous body and just think about what he would do if anyone else approached his girl. When you finally got to the next place he was shocked. You two were going to play laser tag. He was thrilled, you two were going to try and be opposite teams to see who could shoot the other person the most times in the game. It was time for the game to begin and you were both thrilled when your vest lit up blue and his lit up red. And off the two of you went to go try and prove who the best. The game started just fine and the two of you were getting shots in with each other back and forth not caring much about the other people in the room. Then the next time you went to go shoot at Tanaka a guy jumped out in front of you and shot him first. The guy was wearing a blue vest, damn it he’s on your team. After he shot Tanaka he turned around and smiled at you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a place like this alone, dressed like that. You look like some kind of cheap whore I can take home with me.” He’s eying you up and down with a devilish smirk on his face. You stand there in complete shock, no idea who this guy is or what gave him the right to speak to you in this way. Tanaka almost lost it then and there, he marches over to the guy, shoots him in the back and tells him to “Back away from my girlfriend before I beat the daylight out of you.”

The guy doesn’t budge and instead turns to you and asks “Why would you be with a man like that? I can treat you better and give you more than he ever could”

That was it, Tanaka had officially lost his cool, he was up in the guys face “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT ME? YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO GET OUT OF OUR FACES AND LEAVE THIS PLACE BEFORE I BEAT YOU” you’d never seen him this mad before so you let him finish before you pull him in close to you.

“Ryuu, calm down love, he’s just a jerk don’t let him ruin our fun” “But he called you a whore, no one gets to talk to my girl like that.” You rub his head and tell him that you love him so much and that you’re so thankful that he stood up for you before shooting him in the chest and running off, forcing him to follow with a big goofy grin.

Tsukishima:

It is no surprise to anyone that you are a heart throb and if it was socially acceptable for boys to fangirl over girls then you would have a fan club. I’m talking about a full fledged society of boys that praised every step you walked on, from third year middle schoolers all the way up to third year high schoolers, because you were just so cute and friendly. Every person you passed you would smile or wave at and you always made sure to tell people to have a great day. You were a little sunshine that also happened to have a gorgeous face. You and Tsuki were in the same class together and would playfully banter back and forth. When you told him you liked him and he was shocked. He had no idea how the prettiest girl he had ever seen liked him back. The two of you ended up going on a date, then another and another and now the two of you had been dating for almost a year now. You loved Tsukishima so much and you never tried to do anything that would hurt your feelings and he did the same for you. You made him soft like no one else ever had before, he felt giddy and excited every time he was around you even if he didn’t show it externally you both knew how he felt. You were his sunshine and you made him happier than anyone could have ever imagined. Everyday the two of you would walk to school together and you both would walk home together after your practices were done (you also play volleyball and that makes his heart melt because you understand that he’s extremely dedicated but doesn’t want to get hurt-anyway) you always found time for each other and it was something the two of you prided yourselves on.

It was the spring tournament and both the girls and the boys volleyball were happening at the same arena. You both had sent good morning texts and nothing else because you were both extremely focused on doing well today. You two didn’t have to talk a ton during the day but after you both had won your first round you agreed to meet up by the concession stand excited to share your victories with each other. You agreed on a place to meet up and you were teasing him about getting there before him, so you can imagine the shock when he rounded the corner.

There you were standing in your spot, with another guys arm pressed up against the wall and he was leaning in close to talk to you, too close. This had crossed a line. His vision turned red as he continued to stroll over to the two of you. His headphones were now off and he was listening in to every word, he was like a predator going in for the kill, you were his, and he had no idea who you were or why you thought that you could talk to any girl like that, let alone his girl. Once he was close enough he could hear the guy “Well, your boyfriend isn’t here right now and I am so why not let me treat a hottie like you.”

Tsukishima is right behind the guy practically towering over him “Who’s boyfriend isn’t here?” He mocks, and the guy turns his head slowly and turns as pale as a ghost.

Then Tsuki grabs the guy's arm and leans in close to his ear “If I ever hear you speak to a girl like that I will not hesitate to slap the life out of you. And if you ever even think of getting anywhere near my girl again then you might as well consider yourself a dead man. Now leave.”

You didn’t have to tell the guy twice and he books it out of there faster than anyone had ever seen before. You practically pounce on Tsuki and start giving him little kisses everywhere before he stops you because even though he loves you he’s not about to have everyone he’s playing against staring at him.

You do however, get to cling to his arm and tell him all about how he’s your “knight in shining armour, and you came and saved me just like a hero, thank you so much Kei you’re the best and I loveee you” and all he can do is look down and smile at you because you make him so happy. The two of you get food and rejoin your teams and eat together before you all have to go back into warm up. When he gets on the court he sees the guy from earlier is on the opposing team and let's just say that Tsuki has never had a better game.

Hinata:

Hinata prided himself on being the bestest boyfriend in the entire world (his words exactly) and the two of you were inseparable, you could tell each other everything, how you day was, when you’re showering, even when you have to poop. It was something the other Karasuno boys didn’t quite understand, how Hinata found a girl who was just as bizarre and goofy as he was. You told each other everything, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t have your own friends and time to yourself but you were just drawn to hanging out together and making plans with each other.

One day you and Hinata were chilling at his house, he was playing video games with Kenma and you were watching and playing with his little sister while also playing on your phone.

“Hey, Y/N whatcha doin” He’d just died in his game and is looking over to find you completely engrossed in your phone. You didn’t answer him and kept typing out a long text that you had to get sent.

“Hellooooooooo Y/N what’s up? Who are you texting?”

“Tsuki” You reply without thinking much about it and continue your long text to Tsuki. Little did you know that Hinata was watching you intently internally wondering Why doesn't she text me like that? What are they talking about? Does she like him more than she likes me? I mean he’s tall and mean but some girls really like that, right? I mean we’ve only been dating a while and I haven’t been giving her much attention so maybe this is revenge? But Tsukishima of all people?

But externally all he can make himself say is “What are you two talking about?”

You finish your message and set your phone down to look at Hinata dead on, “Babe, Shoyo, what class am I in?”

“Class 1-4” He says while looking at you confused.

“Okay, now what class is Tuski in?”

“Class 1-4” his brain still hasn’t caught up to what you are about to say and he now thinks that you are going to tell him that he’s too dumb for you and you can’t stand it. He’s both upset and made at Tsuki for taking away his girlfriend's attention that belongs to him, not some grouchy jerk.

“Hinata, babe, love, hey, hello? Earth to Hinata” you say snapping your fingers in front of his face trying to get his attention.

“I DON’T WANT YOU TO DATE TSUKISHIMA HE’S A JERK AND RUDE AND I REALLY DO LIKE YOU Y/N AND I’M SORRY I WASN’T PAYING ATTENTION TO YOU MORE PLEASE DON’T BREAK UP WITH ME.” He shouts in one of his zoned out super fast ways. He’s mad that Tsuki would text his girlfriend knowing that they were dating and he couldn’t believe that you would text him back so easily. He was about ready to find Tsukishima’s house and go punch him right now.

You stand up and pull him into a giant hug which breaks his train of thought right there, “Hinata, were you not listening? I just told you that Tsukishima and I are partners on a big project and I forgot my laptop at home and was texting him my part of the project. I am not breaking up with you goofy, I like you not some tall jerk with glasses. We are just working on a project, I have no idea where you even got the idea of me breaking up with you for him came from but stop that right now. As punishment for your actions I would like cuddles.”

He’s embarrassed, super embarrassed on how he could possibly think that you, his awesome, perfect, amazing, gorgeous, funny, cute, happy, loving girlfriend would ever break up with him for someone as bland as Tsukishima. He gets one of those giant goofy grins on his face and realizes that he’s not hugging you back, so he wraps his arms around you as tight as he can and pulls you down onto the couch kissing you over and over again.

“I’m sorry for ever thinking that you’d ever date a jerk like Tsuki.”

Kageyama:

No matter how long you and Kageyama have been dating, everything you do makes him both giddy and excited but also nervous and insecure. He loves you so much and absolutely loves when you come watch him play volleyball, it made his heart burst seeing you in the crowd cheering for him and him alone. Anytime you were there it made him want to be better, he wanted to win more than he already did-which he didn’t think was possible ((but he also didn’t think he could get a girlfriend so)) he loves it. You liked going to watch him play but with how much he played you couldn’t possibly go to every game. You liked to try and go to the important ones though because he would talk about them for weeks after and you liked knowing you were there for some of his proudest moments, and that’s where you were today-watching volleyball matches. You had been sitting in the gym all day watching team after team writing down little notes that you think Kageyama would find helpful such as Number 7 doesn’t receive, and 5 &9 only pass to each other when 5 signals him by waving his left hand. Kageyama loved looking through your little notes with you and thought it was super cute that you would write all of these things down for him, he also was super impressed by how easily you picked up the other player’s weaknesses.

It was time for Karasuno to play and you were stoked. You’d been watching the team progress and it was always exciting to see what new tricks they had up their sleeves. The team was warming up and you were keeping your eye on #9 when you feel a great big thud next to you. You look over and see the guy from earlier, you recognize him from an earlier match, he was #1 on the mint and white team and as your notes said Good serve, but does it in the same pattern, straight, curve straight straight every time, also has sloppy receives.

Smiling at you he asks “What’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting on this side of the bleachers?”

You can’t help but stare at him, while he is definitely pretty he isn’t your type at all and you have no desire to continue a conversation with him. “I’m watching my boyfriend play, thank you very much.” And with that you turn your head back to the game and keep your eyes on your prize. Oikawa isn’t used to being turned down like this and has no idea what to say to you next, he lets you watch the game in peace until the end of the first set. Karasuno had taken the set 25-21 and had played amazingly.

“Are you sure someone as pretty as you wants someone from such a lame school?” Tooru couldn’t understand who was actually good enough for a girl like you on that team.

“Yep, I like him a lot, thanks though.” Another shut down. He the great Oikawa Toru was not used to having a girl give him no attention and by no means did he want to steal whoevers girl from him he just wanted to know who was lucky enough to get someone like you and maybe ask them for some pointers (because his luck is horrible and he just wants love).

When the game is over (Karasuno won ofc) you go to congratulate the team and the first thing that anyone gets to say to you is when Kageyama pulls you into a big hug and whispers “Why was Oikawa talking with you?” He was jealous that you would even consider talking to Okikawa, but he was also worried that Oikawa would steal his girl from him. You squeeze him back in the embrace.

“Are you talking about the loudmouth sitting next to me? He was annoying me the whole time asking questions and making useless commentary about your game.” When he went to ask more questions you kissed him on the cheek and told him that he did so amazing and that you were proud of him and that he shouldn’t waste his energy worrying about someone that you don’t care about because all you care about was him. That alone was enough to make any worries in his head completely disappear because if there’s one thing he knows is that you hate loud mouths like that. (Little did you know that Oikawa was watching the whole thing and could NOT believe that it was Kageyama who got the babe)

Yamaguchi:

Yamaguchi doesn’t get jealous per sey, he trusts you so much and wouldn’t ever bat an eye if you were talking to another guy and you would do the same if you saw him talking to another girl. He also didn’t care what you wore because if you were comfortable and happy then he was comfortable and happy. It was other things that would force him to swallow his pride and admit that he was jealous.

The two of you often went on walks together around the neighborhood and through parks, It was something that the two of you loved doing together, no date, lets just go for a walk. It was an easy answer that made both of you happy-well most of the time.

Every single time the two of you would go out together for as long as either of you could remember whenever you pass a dog they always want to be petted by you and completely ignore Yamaguchi. He has to watch big dogs pull their owners over to you so that they could get your attention and some pets. He had no idea why but every single time he saw a dog and they wanted you it made him so jealous. All he wanted was to be loved by the dogs like they love you, it didn’t seem like too much to ask but the more that it happened he started to find himself getting more and more upset over it, he just didn’t understand why you got all of the dogs to pay attention to you and they wouldn’t even look at him. You never thought much about it because you were always just excited to pet a good dog but once you started noticing how Yamaguchi would just stand there and look at you and the dog you knew something was up, and it had to be fixed right away. You two left the park like usual that day and you pretended like you didn’t have the best surprise planned for your boyfriend, he would love it. You spent two weeks trying to get in contact with one specific woman, and today she finally answered and agreed to your crazy plan.

After school you told Yamaguchi you had something fun you wanted to do with him and he didn’t think twice about it until you pulled him into a local animal shelter, walked up to the desk and told the lady that you were the one with the reservations. He had no idea what you meant by reservations, it was a shelter not a restaurant. The lady led the two of you to a back room, that just so happened to be filled with puppies. The moment Yamaguchi saw the puppies his heart melted, he was beyond excited for this. You both washed your hands and got to enter the room with 20 puppies. You both sat down facing each other as puppies crawled into both of your laps. Yamaguchi had probably 10 of the puppies in his lap alone. While your problem wasn’t fixed this at least reminded him that puppies do love him too.

Ukai:

Ukai was an attractive guy and girls made sure that he knew it. Every time the two of you were out people couldn’t help but comment on his looks.

“Wow, is she your sister?” “Hey, can I take you out?” “Can I buy you a drink?” “What’s your number?” Were all constants in your lives, girls swarmed him and you never seemed to mind. Maybe you would make sassy comments back afterwards but nothing overbearing. That should have put him at ease, but it didn’t. Why didn’t you care? He would care a hell of a lot if some guy was flirting with you. Why are you so easy going? He’s your boyfriend, how are you letting them get away with this? He’s not jealous that you aren’t jealous-or is he? Part of him wants you to stand up for him and to tell a girl to back off every once and awhile. He decides that the next time a girl flirts with him he’s going to flirt back just to see what you’d do.

It’s date night tonight and the two of you have plans to go to a nice restaurant together. You’re wearing a skin tight dress with some sexy heels and he’s wearing a button down and a suit jacket. Ukai would never wear something like that on his own but when you asked him to dress up for dinner he couldn’t help but put in some extra effort for you. The two of you looked hot, like straight out of a magazine story about dressing to impress. If you both hadn’t been around the city with your jobs then people would have thought the two of you were celebrities. It was both impressive and scary that you could look so good together. You walked up to the restaurant with his hand around your waist and he pressed kisses onto the side of your head as you were waiting for your table. It was more than obvious that you two were together, his eyes were glued on you.

But, some tramp (probably named Stacy) apparently is blind and deaf and decided to come up and flirt with your man, while you were in his arms.

“Oh, hey there sexy-”

“No, stop right there, he’s mine and you can turn your ass around and find someone else to bother. Even if he wasn’t already taken he wouldn’t like someone you. But he is taken so goodbye.” You interject before turning and kissing Ukai on the lips, hands on his face as you pull him into a jealous kiss. WHen you’re done kissing him she’s still standing there wide-mouthed. “I told you to stop looking at my man, now please go before I have security show you where the door is.” Ukai had never seen this side of you but now that he has he’s about 10000x more attracted to you.

Dinner goes great and the two of you laugh and banter the entire time back and forth. After dinner you decide to go to your favorite little ice cream place for dessert. You wait your turn and as you’re ordering the cashier cannot stop making eye contact with your breasts and tells .“wow, you’re really pretty” It was Ukai’s turn to get jealous, he’d already puffed his chest and was about to take this man down for saying something as offensive as that but you start to laugh at , the guy.

“I know I’m hot thanks for the compliment but I’m already taken, thanks though” The guy is bright red and you are turning and leaving with Ukai. He had never been more turned on in his entire life, let's just say when you got back to his apartment you had a long night ahead of you.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #ukai keishin #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #azumane asahi #yuu nishinoya #tanaka ryuunosuke #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #writing #karasuno #karasuno imagines

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oneoftheextras · 3 years

Text

Colour Changer | two

masterlist | tip jar

warnings: +18, jealousy, verbal fighting, alcohol, angst & bit o’ drama (also endeavour if that needs to be put as a warning)

word count: 4.4k

part 1 | part 2 |

Things were good with Keigo for a while, when you both had a day off of work you would spend hours watching movies and doing all the couplely things that you would roll your eyes to.

That was before he stopped turning up to your dates, before he stopped sitting at the bar during your shifts to help them go by quicker, and before he no longer replied to your texts.

It had been 3 weeks since you heard from him, his last response to you was “Yeah” and nothing else. You had called and text him multiple times since, but he stopped reading them in the first week.

It was exactly 3 days ago when you sent him one last text asking if you were over and he hadn’t responded - you could only take that as a ‘yes’.

The thought of something happening to him during a patrol crossed your mind, but you’d seen through social media and the news that he’d been going out to parties and had been seen recently. There was no excuse you could have given him, he was ignoring you.

Trying to savour the last of your pride, you blocked his number. You weren’t interested in anything he had to say.

At least you still had your job. You’d actually picked up more shifts at the bar since your ‘break up’ to try and keep yourself busy, there was something about spending time alone in your apartment that reminded you of him.

It hurt, you weren’t going to lie to yourself, it probably hurt more than it should have done. But this was the first time you had let down your guard for someone, and this was how they treated you.

You tried not to think about it.

It was your 9th consecutive shift at the bar and some of your regulars had started to notice that you were working more than normal, as well as your boss.

“You working more shift’s has actually improved our business, a lot of the customers are showing up more just because you’re here more often” they had said before the start of your shift, then they proceeded to slide your pay check across the table to you.

When you opened it up and saw that your pay rate had increased, you opened your mouth to ask if there was a mistake, you didn’t want them on your ass about it later down the line.

“You earned it” they said, giving you a pat on the back as they left the bar in your hands. It was a Thursday night, so you were in charge of a small team, mainly first year college kids trying to pay rent.

This shift was going on as normally as any other, when 10pm struck the normal crew of Heroes strolled in, probably wanting to relax from their hard day of patrols and fighting.

“Endeavour, you’re looking as happy as ever” you joked with the man sitting at the bar, he grumbled slightly as you instinctively started making his usual. “What’s got you looking extra gloomy today?” you asked him, just wanting some conversation out of someone over the age of 18.

“Paperwork” he mumbled before taking the freshly made drink from your hands and knocking it back, apparently it had really been a bad day. “Oh, ew” you tried to sympathise with him, “We’ve got this whole charity Gala coming up soon and for some reason it’s fallen on me to organise it” by the time he had finished explaining he had finished his drink.

Almost like a conveyer belt, as soon as the glass touched the counter, you had already scooped it up and started giving him a refill. “Actually that reminds me-” he said, wiping away the residue of alcohol that had fallen onto his beard “-are you free this Saturday?” he made eye contact with you, something Endeavour rarely did. You felt a chill go down your spine.

Mentally going through your calendar, you remembered your boss forcing you to take the weekend off, something about labour law and you not being legally allowed to work that many days.

“I might be” you side eyed him as you put his second drink down, “Why? Are you trying to get me alone?” you casually raised an eyebrow at him, it had been so long since you had flirt with anyone, the feeling was strange but not so completely alien to you.

To your surprise, a deep chuckle and a slight smile came out of him, “Someone else has organised the catering and they’re insisting they bring their own bartender”, as soon as he said the last word you knew where this was going, “I don’t trust them, I’d rather have someone I know is capable” he never broke eye contact with you.

Immediately you were trying to think of an excuse to say no, you wished you had said you were working “I-” you started but was interrupted “Hawks will be there-” now it was your turn to interrupt him by groaning “Please don’t talk to me about him” you rolled your eyes.

Honestly, it was the first time you had heard his name since everything, “I thought you guys had a thing going on?” Endeavour asked, yet again, finishing his drink - you had no idea where he put all that alcohol. “Yeah, well, so did I. Until he ghosted me” you weren’t exactly sure why you were being so open with the number one Hero, but here you were.

“I’m sorry” he sounded as though he actually meant it, if you weren’t already looking at him, you would have doubted it left his mouth. “I still need someone, and with you I’d know the event was going to be a success, I’ll pay you more than you get here” his tone was still soft, as though he was walking on glass, but he knew what he wanted.

Poking your tongue out between your lips to wet them before you spoke, you feigned cockiness “Actually, I just got a raise, apparently people come here to see me”, before you had even finished your sentence, he had raised an eyebrow as though you were insulting him.

“Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it” straightened his back as though now that he was talking business the niceties were gone. “Double a shift’s wage? That’s not worth-“ he cut you off, “Double your yearly, for one night” he folded his arms.

If you had been drinking something, you’d have spat it out, but instead your eyes flickered in disbelief and your mouth parted slightly.

Smirking, knowing he’d basically won you over already, he wrote down the details on a napkin and handed it to you along with 50 thousand Yen - before you could question it, he spoke up “It’s a black suit event so get something nice for yourself”.

He didn’t wait for confirmation before changing the subject, at least he kept you company for the rest of the night.

You’d taken Endeavour’s advice and went shopping for a new black dress for the Gala, you had to at least look the part even if you didn’t want to be there. The dress you decided on was tight and hugged you in all the right places, it was very flattering, you had debated on whether or not to go for a nice dress, but you didn’t want to waste the money he’d given you.

Before you could really prepare yourself, you were setting up your space in the huge Gala hall. You’d turned up early so you could add some finishing touches to your bar before all the Heroes started turning up, you’d be more efficient if you knew where every type of alcohol was.

You’d taken the liberty of bringing some of the cocktail shakers from your work so you were familiar with the tools, but they had already supplied you with enough for a small team. Although, when the clock rolled around to 10 minutes before the Heroes were supposed to turn up, there was no sign of any other bartenders.

If Endeavour had hired you and only you, he was going to get an earful, Number One Hero or not.

That was exactly what he had done.

At first you slightly panicked, wondering how the hell you were going to manage so many orders all at once, but there were about 30 Champagne Waitresses making their rounds on the floor that kept everyone away from you.

Not to say that you weren’t extremely busy, but you were able to serve the Heroes fast enough that you were able to put on a bit of a performance, doing your normal tricks of tapping the cocktail shaker and changing the liquid contents as it was being poured into people’s glasses.

Like normal, the onlookers were amazed.

It still befuddled you that in a world of crime-fighting Heroes, someone who could change colours was something to gape at. Your quirk was more for show than practicality really.

When the majority had some type of alcoholic drink in their hand, the speeches started, everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen to the grey haired man talk about the charity that this whole thing was for and give a list of thank you’s that seemed to go on forever.

Meanwhile, you decided to utilise this time to clean down your bar and restock some of the empty bottles, you weren’t quite sure what was going on with Gang Orca but he’d nearly finished a whole bottle of vodka by himself so you were keeping an eye on him. He seemed completely fine with no sign of intoxication, maybe his huge form was absorbing the alcohol.

You were sure as soon as this presentation had finished you were going to be swamped, even you were feeling the need for a drink, and oh boy were you right.

The moment the dim lights were brought back up and the music was turned back on there wasn’t a single space by the bar that wasn’t full. You expected people to start getting impatient because they were having to wait for their drinks, but strangely they were more than happy to wait and chat to you and each other, the amount of tips you were getting tonight would be enough to pay your rent for 2 months.

After the swarm of people were served and you had a second to breathe, you froze, golden eyes staring awkwardly at you “Shot of tequila” he bluntly said, he didn’t even have the manners to ask like everyone else was. You gave him a similarly cold response by just nodding and putting the shot glass on the metal surface with a little bit too much force and pouring the golden liquid into it, you also gave him a wedge of lime and gave him the salt shaker.

Without saying anything, he handed you the money and took his shot. You both seemed to breathe a breath of relief when the Number One Hero parted the line of people and approached the bar, you smiled maybe too much upon seeing him.

“Endeavour!” Hawks exclaimed when he saw his partner, “Have a shot with me!” he continued and you instinctively started preparing his normal tumbler of whiskey. Enji grumbled at the young heroes request, you would have died on the spot if you saw Endeavour do a shot.

After placing the his empty glass on the wood in front of him, you quickly washed your hands in the miniature sink the event space had provided you, dried them on your small towel, and scooped up three cubes of ice.

Both men looked at you with intent, you had served them enough for them to know this wasn’t your normal routine.

You allowed one cold cube to run down your palm and to the tip of your fingers, the second before it left your touch, you turned the white object into a gorgeous red. Uncurling your pinkie and ring-finger, you let the other two pieces do the same thing - changing the second one to orange and then the last one to yellow.

A small crowd of a few customers were ogling at what you were doing as though they had never seen it before, or it may have been because someone was paying attention to the Number One Hero despite everyone’s fear of him.

It was nice to see him smiling, but it was even better to see the faint grimace on Keigo’s face. Good, you thought. After the way he treated you, you wanted him to know what he was missing.

Endeavour reached out for the glass but before he could grab hold of it you slapped his hand playfully, you heard a few faint gasps in the miniature crowd that had formed, and a couple of terrified glances towards the Pro Hero on your behalf.

“Be patient” you smirked at him, you had to admit it to yourself, you were being very brave. You barely knew this man apart from his drink order, being so informal with him was a huge risk as you didn’t know how he would react.

He chuckled at your coyness, and your heart relaxed.

Cupping your hand in front of his face, you poured his favourite whiskey into your hand and let it run through your fingers, you held the bottle high enough so people could see the dark brown liquid flowing out of the nozzle and then quickly drizzle out between your fingers as a golden-yellow with bright red swirls.

Once you had poured the right amount into the glass, you pushed the tumbler towards him and washed the remaining alcohol off your hand before it became sticky.

“I’m surprised he let her do that” someone mumbled a little bit too loudly, then another voice piped up “It’s not very hygienic”. Endeavour was happily sipping at his drink while Keigo was doing his best not to make eye contact with you still, this was too good of an opportunity to give up, so you mustered up all your courage and said in the most confident tone you could “It’s okay, he knows where my hands have been”.

If you weren’t mistaken, everyone inhaled sharply at the exact same time, all but Enji who side-eyed Keigo and then put his eyes back on you with a knowing glint - something told you that he knew what you were trying to do and understood his role. Maybe your hands would stop shaking sometime soon now that you knew he was going along with it.

“Thank you for the dress by the way” you added, gently placing your hand on his arm for a second before going back to serving the line of customers you had, you felt as though there was enough of an audience to make your point, “It fits you nicely” was all he added, it was more of a response than you were expecting.

Deciding it was probably best to not push your luck too much with the flame hero, you turned your attention to the multiple pairs of eyes looking at you “What do you guys think?” doing a little twirl with what little space you had, of course the chorus of men erupted into whoops and cheers- you think you even heard Present Mic yelling “Hot” from one of the other stands.

Satisfied with the scene you had caused, you went back to pouring drinks, using all sorts of tricks you’d never been able to do before. You changed the whole bar to whatever colour the current customer wanted, even going as far as to change your own hair colour to gain praise from them.

Honestly, you were starting to feel like your old self again, that was until you saw something small and red weave it’s way through the different pumps and towards you.

Slamming your hand down on the bar and hard as you could, you crushed the delicate feather under your force, “If I see another feather come across this line-“ you drew and invisible line across the wood with your finger “-I’ll cut you off” you said bluntly, throwing the feather back towards it’s owner.

He opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him, “Do you want to get thrown out?”, he chuckled to himself slightly and shook his head “Like you could” his tone was playful yet arrogant, “I don’t have to” you put the emphasis on ‘I’ and shifted your gaze toward Enji who had coincidentally caught your eye, he very lightly smiled at you and gave a small gesture that you assumed was a wave.

That was the last straw, Keigo’s tone shifted and he stormed away from the bar, the entire night passed and you didn’t see him again. A part of you was glad, you didn’t have to keep looking over your shoulder, but that pit in your stomach was back, and just as you had started to feel better.

On the plus side, you didn’t have to clean and close the bar, the venue had hired some cleaners to take care of all the mess after everyone was done. Thank God.

The walk home was quiet and lonely, it was about 3am and most people had gone to sleep hours ago, so the ominous hum of streetlights really put you on edge- that, and that nervous feeling of being watched.

You tried to hurry along the uneven ground as quickly as you could, not wanting to tempt fate too much; how ironic would it have been? To be attacked by a Villain after spending an evening with Heroes.

A gust of wind blew your hair into your face and blocked your vision entirely for a few seconds, it was quickly followed by a force connecting with your back and then wrapping around your front.

You felt your feet leave the ground and the harsh whistle of wind rushing past your ears deafened you - your senses were blocked off. The wind was too loud to hear, and your hair acted like a self-inflicted blindfold, you were so disorientated that you thought you were going to be sick.

When your feet finally touched solid ground and the force holding you ease up, you stumbled forwards and fell to your knees, hands spread out in front of you. “What’s going on with you and Endeavour?” you heard a familiar voice say from behind you, you could not believe this.

“What?!” you exclaimed, aggressively turning yourself so you were now half laid down on the floor, you saw Hawk’s standing in front of his open window with the moonlight shining behind him casting a silhouette. “You kidnapped me to ask me about Endeavour?” you vocalised how ridiculous the situation was.

Hawk’s folded his arms in frustration, “You seemed pretty cosy with him earlier” he said bluntly, “So what if I was?” you bit back, your emotions were high and you didn’t know which voice to listen to - you were pissed off beyond your control, hurt and mildly frightened.

You knew Hawk’s wouldn’t hurt you, but the amount of hate in his eyes made you question him for a moment.

“Is that how it is? You moved on from to my partner?” he sounded disgusted with you and to be completely honest you were glad, he had hurt you so much in such a short amount of time it felt as though he was getting what he deserved.

“What do you care?” you snarled at him and turned your head away, not wanting to look at him. “What do I-?” he started but interrupted himself by rubbing his hand down his face. “Of course I care!” he extended his arms towards you as you dragged yourself up off the floor and brushed the flakes of dust and dirt off your new dress.

“If you cared about me you wouldn’t have left” you mumbled to yourself, not intending for him to hear but it seems regardless of whether or not he heard, he wanted you to say it again “What did you say?!” he raised his voice, to match his aggression you raised your voice louder “If you cared about me you wouldn’t have left!”.

There was silence for a moment, no words, just the sound of heavy breathing as you both decided whether or not it was worth carrying on this subject.

“Take me home” you gave up, exasperated at the situation. All you had wanted for the last couple of weeks was to hear from Keigo, and for him to tell you that you were still together, but now that you were actually in front of him, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

He took a few steps towards you, “No-” he forced the air out of his throat like a bullet coming out of a gun, “-Not until you admit it” he continued, his hostile tone never wavering. “Admit what?” you laughed dryly, “Are you fucking Endeavour?” he asked bluntly and your jaw almost hit the floor.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no I’m not” you answered him honestly, folding your own arms and glancing around towards the front door, if he wouldn’t take you home you would have to take yourself.

“How is it none of my business?” he snapped at you, “Because you left me!” you shouted over the top of him before he managed to finish his sentence, “I gave you every part of me and you couldn’t even be bothered to send a goodbye text” you finally let out what you felt like you had been holding onto for your whole life.

Taking a deep breath in and then with a sharp exhale you said, in a calmer tone “I’m leaving”, without giving him the option to respond you marched your way towards the apartment door.

Before you could take hold of the handle you felt your shoulder being pulled around and your body being pushed against the door, the next thing you saw were two golden eyes staring back at you .

“Let me go” you said through gritted teeth, “Not until you’ve listened to me” he was talking in a hushed voice as though all the anger and upset had left him in that instant, “I don’t want to-” you started but it was his turn to interrupt you, “You have no idea how dangerous my job is, the type of people I’m working with-” he stopped mid-sentence to glance around the room as though he was being watched.

“I was there every night, I watched you walk home from work to make sure you were okay” his voice was starting to crack and you could see water starting to well up in his bottom eye lid, “I missed you so much, but I had to keep you safe”.

Watching him come undone in front of you, you felt a pit fall in your stomach as extreme guilt flushed over you.

Your body moved without you asking it to and before you knew it your hands were wrapped in his hair and your lips were against his.

The kiss started as soft and gentle, but as soon as the shock had left his system he cupped your face in his hand and started kissing you as though it was the last time.

Things got heated very quickly, Keigo pushed the hem of your dress up until it was bunched up at your waist and wasted no time shuffling your underwear down for you to step out of.

Unbuckling his belt like he wouldn’t live to see tomorrow, he let his jeans fall to the floor as he picked you up by your thighs and pushed you further into the door. His kisses became more erratic as he lowered you onto his cock.

The euphoria you both felt as the familiar sensation of him filling you again flooded to your brain, you gripped his shoulders tighter to try and stay stable. Instantly he started moving his hips, dragging himself in and out of you at a rapid pace.

The apartment was filled with a mixture of Keigo’s grunts, your moans and the door sounding as though it was on the brink of death. “I missed you so much” he mumbled against your neck as he dug his fingers into your bare thighs, his thrusts were ruthless and you could feel that you were getting close to your orgasm.

“I missed you too” you managed to breath out in between moans. You could feel the friction of your back rubbing against his door and you knew you would be waking up with a bruise. But you didn’t care.

Before either of you could say anything else you felt your walls clench down around him, emphasising every muscle and vein in his member, Ah, fuck” he growled, pushing himself even further into you as you let him pound you through your orgasm.

He grunted a couple of times and his mouth hung open, he moved one of his hands to hold your shoulder down as the pressure of his chest against yours held you in place. “I love you” he confessed, locking eyes with you, you were still panting from your own high so you weren’t able to respond, “I lo-” he started to say before he snapped his hips against yours and you felt him cum inside of you.

Flopping his head forward so your foreheads were touching, neither of you moved to allow the moment to last as long as it could- neither of you wanting your bubble of bliss to be popped.

“I mean it” he barely even whispered as he pulled his head away so he could look you in the eye, “I do love you” he repeated himself. Your heart leapt, your relationship hadn’t gone on long enough for either of you to have said the ‘L’ word yet.

But being away from him these last couple of weeks solidified how you truly felt, “I love you too” you smiled at him as he kissed your forehead.

Taglist:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

#hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #colour changer #oneoftheextras

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demaury · 3 years

Text

open your heart (and let me know you want me here)

9k / friends to lovers / ao3 link

Here is the thing. When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat.

or; a childhood friends to lovers au

1- Someone who makes me feel something. Butterflies and fireworks and all that shit.

He’s fifteen when it happens, and as most things it doesn’t look like much of a big deal at first. It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and although it should be a regular one like so many others, there’s something unique in the fact that he’s sitting on the navy-blue carpeted floor of his bedroom, trying to figure out a math problem, while Eliott is humming to himself and scrolling down his phone on his bed. The setting isn’t what makes it all new, and much less Eliott’s presence — he’s actually one of the very few constants of his life, ever since the Demaurys moved across the street about a million years ago.

What makes it all new, scary, a bit foreign, is that it’s the first time they hang out, since he told Eliott he liked boys. Which- Okay, coming out to Eliott was really not the problem, really, it never was. He wasn’t… He wasn’t scared that Eliott would take it the wrong way, you know, he wasn’t scared that all of a sudden Eliott would start looking back at him with disgust, that’s not what it was about. He just… He just didn’t know how to word it out. When would be the right time, and if there would ever be one — but turns out there had been one. About a week ago, he and Eliott had been texting late at night, and when the conversation had drifted onto Lucille, more specifically Eliott’s lifelong crush on her — it’s not quite the truth, but two years feel a lot like two lifetimes when you think about it —, Eliott had jokingly suggested that Lucas should get himself someone too so they could go on double dates, once she finally agrees to acknowledge him.

(He doesn’t know why it’s taking her so long, and if he’s being honest, he’s a bit prejudiced against her because of this exact reason.)

Naturally, because old habits die hard, his first instinct had been to deflect. I’m not 45 yet, double dates sound boring as fuck, he almost wrote back, but at the last second he had erased all the words and went for Pretty sure I wouldn’t need you to make a fool of myself in front of my very hypothetical boyfriend instead. There had been a few agonizing minutes spent staring at the ceiling after that, phone turned screen down onto his mattress, while he nervously chewed onto his bottom lip with his stomach in knots; in the meantime, Eliott had flooded their conversation with offended texts, because ‘oh, so you just think you can keep me away from him??? That’s sweet’, and just like that, Lucas had felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Eliott asks excitedly, jumping in a sitting position so fast it makes the bedsprings creaks loudly, and Lucas hums in response, still frowning at his math problem without bothering to look back. He loves Eliott, he really does, but that boy has about a million things crossing his mind at all times of the day (and night), so he’s long given up on the idea of giving him his undivided attention every single time something like this happens. “What would you want him to look like?”

Lucas’ hands hover over his equation result for a moment as he blankly stares at his page in confusion, but then he throws a look above his shoulder, and he finds Eliott expectantly looking at him. “What? Who?”

“Your hypothetical boyfriend,” Eliott supplies, his smile widening when Lucas huffs and shakes his head.

“Don’t you think I have better things to think about right now?”, he groans, his attention drifting back onto his homework. He feels like he’s been twisting his brain over this for hours, and it’s not like he can possibly ask Eliott anything on the matter, because he may be two years older, when it comes to math he’s about as useless as a glass hammer.

“Better than thinking about the man of your dreams?”, Eliott gasps, and Lucas is about to tell him that this is all becoming extra cheesy for something that has no actual basis whatsoever when he adds: “You can’t find him if you don’t have an idea of what you’re looking for.”

“Because he’s going to suddenly show up, out of nowhere, just because I started picturing… I don’t know, some abs and a vaguely undefined hair color?”, Lucas snorts. He doesn’t make a habit of asking Eliott to be serious, because well, it’s Eliott, he’s got his head in the clouds a fair share of the time, but, like, come on.

But instead of picking his phone back up and moving onto another topic, one that doesn’t require Lucas’ participation at the very least, Eliott lets out an appreciative noise. “So you are picturing something, good start. Abs and… what’s the hair color again?”

Naturally, Lucas ends up smacking Eliott with his textbook — or at least trying to, because despite Eliott professing a lifelong hatred of sports of most, if not all kinds, he’s surprisingly quick and agile like a giant cat —, and, eventually, his idiot best friend agrees to leave it at that. Which would have been terrific, really, if his brain had agreed to do the same.

But later, much later, when it’s already dark outside and Eliott has been gone for hours, he finds himself thinking about it — that stupid, stupid idea. He can’t help but wonder, what if he’s right? What if he never finds anyone because he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for? Eliott has been crushing on Lucille for two years, but Lucas can’t even remember ever crushing on anyone. There’s never been anyone who made his stomach flutter, who made his mind go blank, who made his thoughts swirl around. There’s never been anyone who made his knees go weak, or turned his stomach to mush.

And maybe, as he keeps thinking about all the feelings everyone always talks about that he never got to experience, maybe that’s when he starts making it — maybe a couple of yearning thoughts are already the beginning of a list.

9- Someone who gives a shit

“How do they fit?” Eliott shouts from behind the bathroom door, and before Lucas has the time to reply he immediately adds, speech rate quickening like the words are tumbling down from his lips: “Because I’m pretty sure I can find something else.”

Lucas throws a glance at his sad reflection in the mirror, catching sight of the tee-shirt falling down mid-thighs and the shorts reaching below his knees; clearly not his best look, he thinks halfheartedly, flattening a couple of strands sticking up at weird angles at the back of his head. It’s only because he doesn’t want his best friend to take the door down that he ends up unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom.

“It’s fine, that will do,” Lucas mumbles, because honestly, he’s already crashing at the Demaurys’, it’s not like he can afford to be picky at the moment.

Eliott is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, and he gives him a sympathetic look — warm and gentle, honey-like in sweetness if not in color. “Good,” he nods, a nice smile stretching out on his lips as he slips into his bedroom.

Lucas follows him, shutting the door behind himself. Eliott vaguely smooths his comforter before climbing onto his bed. “What do you want to watch?”

Lucas twists his mouth a little, and for a moment he feels a bit lost without quite being able to tell why. He’s standing in this room he knows by heart, but still, it feels weird and alien. He uncomfortably rubs an invisible spot on his arm as he tries to process what’s different about it all. They’ve done that hundreds of times, he’s spent some of the best afternoons of his childhood and teenage years in Eliott’s house, in Eliott’s bedroom even, but…

But he’s never done that.

He’s never slammed the door after one too many fights and straight-up imposed himself at the Demaurys’, and judging by Eliott’s demeanor ever since he showed up, soaked wet from the rain outside, he knows he feels it too — it’s weird. It’s different. It’s not the usual excitement floating in the air.

“I don’t really feel like watching anything right now,” he confesses, fiddling with the hem of Eliott’s way-too-long tee-shirt. He’s just tired, he’s heard so much yelling today it’s like his ears are ringing.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Eliott says quickly. He pats the spot next to him until Lucas caves and joins him. “I just thought you might… I don’t know, like a distraction.”

“Being here is enough, don’t worry,” he says, maneuvering himself on the mattress before folding his legs against his chest, and honestly, he wishes that were true, he really does.

Because Eliott is Eliott, and he really doesn’t want his friend to feel bad about him any more than he already does — so Lucas does as he usually tries to do. He tries to shove it all as far down as possible, in the smallest corner of his brain, where it doesn’t hurt as much. He tries not to think about the fact that tomorrow is another day, that eventually he will have to come back home, and how much he doesn’t want that. He tries not to think that Eliott’s tee-shirt feels soft against his skin, and that even if it’s the weirdest sleepover they’ve ever had, even if something feels off, he still feels a thousand times better here than he does at home.

Eliott crosses his legs, and leans forward to reach for a pair of earbuds on his nightstand. “How about some music? You can choose whatever you want.”

Lucas’ eyes travel a few times between Eliott’s eyes and the earbud that is offered to him, and he picks up with a small huff. “Alright, okay.”

Eliott makes a small, content sound, like it makes him genuinely happy to spend the night with his grumpy self, listening to songs that aren’t even remotely close to his personal taste — and maybe Lucas goes along with it. Maybe he’s selfish like that, but this one night, he just gets along with it. He lets soft piano music soothe his mood a bit, slowly lulling him into sleep until his head gets too heavy and he has to drag himself to the guest mattress that has been set up for him like so many times before.

Crossing the street to go back home, that too he’s done a million times, but not often with that weird gut-feeling of walking right into a no man’s land. His dad’s car is nowhere to be seen, and the silence is deafening as he pads through the silent house. He shuffles upstairs to change before school, going about his morning routine with a weird tension lodged between his shoulder blades, his head too full of thoughts, and he’s shoving a biology textbook into his backpack when he sees it. It’s a DVD — Ratatouille. It’s, embarrassingly enough, one of those movies he could watch over and over again without ever tiring of it, and obviously Eliott knows, obviously, because they’ve watched it so many times since they were kids, and who else would have put it in there?

His mouth twists into half a smile when he picks up the DVD, a bright yellow sticky note on the front of the box. Everything is always better on Blu-ray, I promise ✳

11- Someone who fucking sticks around and doesn’t leave when things go to shit

A Blu-ray isn’t enough to make it all better, as it turns out, but Lucas surely appreciates Eliott’s gesture for what it is, and all those that follow later, when his family situation goes from bad to worse to terrible. He’s never made a habit of setting a stupid list of resolutions with every new year, but this time, and this time only, he’s resolved to stop thinking about that fucking new year. At best he’s allowing himself to laugh it off. Divorced parents? Funny as hell. Mom in a psychiatric ward? Hilarious. Family house on sale? Hysterical. They’re cruising around the near-empty supermarket, aimlessly going from one aisle to the next as Lucas picks up random stuff to drop them into the cart Eliott is pushing. It’s another Wednesday, it’s lunchtime, and he knows there’s nothing to eat at home, because there’s been no one to go grocery shopping for him.

“So what are you guys planning for tomorrow?”, he asks distractedly.

Just because he’s single doesn’t mean he’s clueless about the ways of those who aren’t — and he knows that tomorrow night is a big deal for Eliott, long before they even take left and stumble onto a sea of sugary pink and velvety red. An aisle has been pushed to the side at the center of the store to clear some more space for Valentine’s Day displays. The racks are filled with chocolates of all kinds and flavors, heart-wearing Teddy Bears, gifts, cards and even plastic flowers, but Eliott doesn’t really seem to pay attention to anything. Which, in itself, isn’t that surprising. He’s been dating Lucille for three months now, ever since they got paired together for some oral presentation at school and that it finally opened her eyes at how wonderful Eliott is, so Lucas doesn’t really expect his best friend to go for the first generic box of chocolates he finds.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Eliott says evasively, following Lucas when he walks past the Valentine’s Day area. “We haven’t talked about it much yet.”

Lucas hums. “It’s your first Valentine’s Day,” he points out distractedly, eyes skimming over various cereal brands, and he ends up reaching for a Crunch box that he drops into the cart, “I’d have expected you to buy balloons and a giant Teddy Bear or something.” Or simply to show up at Lucille’s window with a boombox, he almost adds, but he keeps it in just in time. Eliott doesn’t need any bad idea of that kind. Judging by his musical taste, it’s frankly better for everyone, starting with Lucille’s parents’ neighbors.

He hears Eliott toying with the shopping cart chain. “Luce’s kinda busy. Her parents are on her case with the BAC and all,” he says, and Lucas gives him a look, from his spot at the end of the aisle, that makes Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up innocently. “What?”

“Why are you lying?”, Lucas asks, squinting his eyes a little.

Eliott scoffs, but it comes out wrong — off-key. “I’m not lying.”

He’s definitely lying, Lucas thinks bluntly, and he rolls his eyes to himself. His best friend is so painfully transparent that he should probably be grateful about it, he should probably be happy that he’s able to read him like an open book, but instead he hates that Eliott doesn’t seem to have any clue when it comes down to it — it makes it even more annoying whenever he tries to lie to his face. “You are,” he retorts with a pointed stare. “What’s up? I thought you’d be over the moon or something.”

Eliott squirms behind the cart, his hands awkwardly drumming along the handle. “Oh, no I am, truly,” he says quickly, “I just thought we could… I don’t know, maybe go watch a movie or something. You and I.”

And there we go, Lucas thinks, and it’s like a weight is dropped onto his shoulders, making them slump with an inaudible woosh. There’s a pang inside his chest, and it’s not a big one, it’s not a breath-altering one, not those that make you want to curl into a ball and cry, it’s just the kind of sting that reminds you of a sore spot. A bruise still a little tender, a scar still noticeable.

“Are you asking me out, Demaury?” he snickers, trying to deflect the sudden change in the atmosphere, but he already knows it’s useless because he can’t be the only one going for it — they both have to play the same game, and he already knows Eliott isn’t willing to.

“I just think you might want some company,” Eliott says with a nice smile, and although Lucas loves that smile, he really does, this time it just doesn’t work.

“I’m fine,” he replies briskly, and he pulls sharply at the end of the shopping cart to move it forward. It’s a petty gesture that seems to startle Eliott, and he immediately feels bad about it. “Your girlfriend doesn’t need you to worry about me, she needs you to fuss over her.”

“But I-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eventually Eliott nods, muttering a small ‘right’, and Lucas has to pretend he doesn’t want to rush out of here, lunch be damned. He hates it, he hates when Eliott is like this, and hates even more that it’s because of him. They walk through the store for a few more minutes, mostly in silence, only occasionally making a small comment or two about things they see on their way to the cash registers. Eliott starts filling the reusable shopping bags Lucas retrieves from his backpack while he pays a ridiculous amount of money for his purchases, and then they’re off.

“Hey,” Lucas mumbles pitifully as they reach the bus stop at the end of the parking lot. “I… I’m sorry if I was rude. I really appreciate what you do for me, everything, it’s just… I’m just trying to hold it together.” He looks away, tracing a weird line in the concrete from the tip of his shoe to avoid Eliott’s eyes.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t be pushy,” Eliott says, and there’s the faint trace of a smile in his voice. He leans down to squeeze the shopping bag he’s holding between his feet. “But I want you to know I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, so whenever you feel like talking… I’m here.”

It takes Lucas a few seconds to look up, and there’s something so soft and gentle into Eliott’s expression that it makes something melt into his chest almost instantly. He finds himself mirroring Eliott’s smile, albeit lamely — not quite as beautiful, not quite as warm, not quite as reassuring. He finds himself thinking about what Eliott just said for a while, as they hop into the bus and make their way home one stop after the other. He's not going to accept his offer for Valentine's Day, because if anyone deserves to be taken care of on that special day, it's Eliott's girlfriend. But still. Maybe, someday, he can manage to find someone who just doesn't leave.

15- Someone who feels like home

It’s a long while before he thinks about the list again — he doesn’t even know where it is, but he guesses moving abroad for a semester tends to do that to you. He’s in his second year of uni when he jumps on the Erasmus offer, and between paperwork and packing up and unpacking and settling down and trying to, maybe, eventually, meet some new people to make the next three months of his life somewhat relevant on a human level, he doesn’t have much time to think about whether or not he’s going to meet the man of his dreams at the next street corner, much less whether or not he checks an inordinate amount of criteria.

Frankly, it’s not that big of a deal. Lucas has never been excessively hopeful about it in the first place, so he can’t really say it’s something that requires a lot of self-discipline. Occasionally Eliott brings it up over text or FaceTime, because he’s an idiot like that, and he’s his best friend, so of course he considers it his double duty to bring up that kind of corny, embarrassing prospect.

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute in a way,” Lucas says one day, roughly two weeks after landing in Oslo, about some guy he’s met at a party. He’s dutifully sent Eliott his Instagram handle for approval, and for the past few minutes they’ve been going through his publications over FaceTime, like they’re back in Lucas’ old bedroom, with Eliott on his bed and Lucas sitting on the floor.

“He looks fifteen,” Eliott replies unhelpfully, snickering a little. “Didn’t know it was a turn-on of yours. Did that one make the cut?”

“Shut up,” Lucas scoffs, and he regrets not being able to send something in Eliott’s face in retaliation. Besides, he looks barely his age himself, it’s not like he’s in a position to comment about someone else’s appearance — something Eliott promptly dismisses as soon as Lucas points it out, because ‘Lucas, don’t expect me to tell you you’re not ridiculously attractive’, and he’s vain enough to take the compliment without arguing.

After that, well, he goes back to not thinking about it.

Final terms are rolling around and he crams for it, and before he can even catch a breath, it’s already the end of the semester and Christmas is right at the corner. He lands back in France three days before Christmas Eve, and of course he crashes at Eliott’s, because he hasn’t spoken to his father in nearly four months and a half, so it’s not like he even has options to choose from — but he has to admit, it feels nice, knowing he’s going somewhere he’s wanted. Eliott has been buzzing over it for weeks now, making plans for movie nights and places to go and people to see, so much that Lucas almost forgot to be sad about leaving Oslo.

“I’m so fucking happy to have you back,” Eliott says excitedly, voice a little too loud in the narrow stairwell leading up to his third-floor one-bedroom flat, and he’s so eager that he ends up bumping Lucas’ suitcase a couple of times between the stairs, the wall and the banister.

“Jeez, calm down,” Lucas huffs, “the whole neighborhood doesn’t have to know I’m here, thanks.”

Eliott opens the door of his flat with a nudge from his shoulder, not looking even remotely sorry. “Well, that’s just the beginning if we get a place together,” he singsongs, and Lucas shakes his head a little — but deep down, he loves it. His cheeks are hurting from smiling, and he feels his shoulders relax instantly as soon as he crosses the threshold. Nothing has changed since he left last summer. Not that he expected it to, but it’s always nice. In the small, cramped living room, Eliott has already prepared a pillow and a comforter, carefully folded to the side of the couch, and it’s not even that late (not even 10), and the flight wasn’t even long (not even three hours), but Lucas already feels very compelled into dropping himself there and wrapping himself into the blanket — so he does just that. He quickly nibbles on a leftover sandwich he bought at the airport in Oslo, while Eliott excitedly rambles about some renting options he’s seen here and there, and then he quickly sets up his bed.

His best friend is sweet enough not to make fun of him for it, and when he flips off the light on his way out of the living room with a cheerful ‘sweet dreams’, Lucas doesn’t think, for one second, he can love him more than that.

“How about this?” Eliott grins triumphantly as he turns the lion plushie he had growing up in his direction. Lucas isn’t sure, but he thinks it might have been supposed to look like Simba, before he proceeded to drag it everywhere with him until the color irrevocably turned a dirty mix of greenish-yellow and grey. “Don’t you miss him?”

Lucas huffs, shaking his head, and he turns back to busy himself with a heavy storage box filled with what looks like bedsheets and drapes of various kinds. “I’m way past needing plushies, thanks,” he snorts, reaching for the plastic lid of the box to replace it in its dusty corner.

They’ve been here for about twenty minutes, in the storage unit where most of his and his mom’s stuff are neatly piled up in, and although he initially thought that this would be easy, because ‘C’mon, it’s just a storage unit, it’s not Versailles in there’, turns out there are lots and lots of things to search through. He doesn’t regret bringing Eliott along, to be honest; it takes at least two to make their way around all the stuff, and at least Eliott can reach the upper shelves. At first they had started renting the unit to store his mom’s things away after the divorce, but when Lucas moved to Norway, he couldn’t afford to pay both the student lodging and rent at his old flatshare simultaneously, so he was forced to give up his spot over there and to store his things here in the meantime.

“Have you no heart?” Eliott gasps, and when Lucas turns back, he’s pouting as he gives the plushie a sad look. “We’re definitely watching Toy Story tonight.”

Lucas rolls his eyes fondly with a scoff, and eventually, after another moment of staring, Eliott agrees to put the lion back into whatever cardboard or plastic box he found it and to move the fuck on. In the meantime, Lucas moves over to another stash of smaller plastic boxes, still looking for the clothes he left behind before Oslo, but it’s not long before Eliott makes another sound, that has Lucas’ head whipping around.

“Hey, remember this game?” he asks, grinning as he waves a version of Risk. “God I miss that old peasant woman who told us off whenever we would be beating up people.”

“Dark Eliott was really a formative experience, but don’t ever end up on the wrong side of the tracks, thanks,” Lucas snickers in his corner, taking the lid off one of the boxes before he starts rummaging through its content. There’s a bit of everything in there, from old assignments to a snapback, pictures, a couple of textbooks, and as he keeps digging through it all, Eliott huffs something he doesn’t quite catch.

It’s during that overall quiet and regular afternoon that the list makes its comeback into Lucas’ life, after months of barely giving it a thought, and maybe at least a year of not adding another entry; it slips out from an old Annabac textbook when he picks it up from the box. The fold is a little wrong and the corner slightly crumpled, and for a second he contemplates just shoving it back at the bottom box, because he’s really not in the mood to entertain that kind of ridiculously hopeful thoughts for a better future or whatever, but in the end there’s a weird kind of curiosity that pushes him to open it.

Just a quick look, he thinks, discreetly peering above his shoulder to find Eliott busy in the opposite corner. The list has a total of 54 entries, ranking from thoughtful to shallow to frankly depressing at times. A wry smile shows up on his lips at entry #4: he gotta be tall because I’m not spending my life climbing ladders to change light bulbs. Or even better, the entry #9: someone who makes me laugh so hard I cry — it has something terribly soft to it, almost… pure.

The entry #29 is entirely Eliott’s fault, he knows it right off the bat: not too many tattoos thanks. It’s crossed, because shortly afterwards Eliott got his first tattoo for some obscure reason, and despite Lucas’ adamant protests, his best friend insisted that he accompanied him to the parlor for the big day — and then he got another tattoo, and another, and after some time Lucas was forced to realize that… okay maybe tattoos were okay.

The rest of the entries are sometimes awfully precise (#34 ‘light eyes????? Fuck yes?????’ and #41 ‘abs. abs. abs.’), or completely vague (#29 Fucking consistent). And then there’s entry #50. One of the last entries, that he probably wrote towards the end of high school or during his first year of uni, during a lonely evening at the flatshare — a very graphic description of what he’d want his imaginary boyfriend to do to him, which he had written after watching some porn locked up in his bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

Eliott’s voice sounds so close that Lucas startles guiltily, snapping the list down against his chest in the textbook definition of caught red-handed. Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up as they make eye-contact, and Lucas tries to ignore the way his cheeks heat up. “I- uh- nothing,” he croaks out. “Just going through old stuff.”

There’s a glint in Eliott’s eyes, like he knows, like he can read through his fucking mind — like he too just read that entry #50. Stop fucking spiraling, he doesn’t know shit, he admonishes himself. The only thing he knows is that Lucas is acting like a teenager caught looking at porn.

“What?”, he asks, trying to find back his composure.

Eliott shrugs, with that annoying little smirk on his ridiculously pretty face. “Nothing,” he says, voice drawling a little, but he’s motioning next to Lucas to busy himself with the upper shelves in Lucas’ direct vicinity, and he knows his best friend is being annoying on purpose.

Lucas squints at him from the corner of his eyes. Seemingly unbothered, Eliott stands onto his tiptoes, arms extended at their maximum capacity to reach for a big, dusty cardboard box almost touching the ceiling, and his tee-shirt is riding high and showing the smallest trace of his rib tattoo curling down his side, and that’s when it creeps onto Lucas, at the worst, most inopportune moment. His eyes travel back and forth between Eliott and the list a couple of times, and despite his best efforts to keep calm, Lucas’ stomach starts doing a weird somersault.

Oh no.

Here is the thing.

When he started making that list, he was never planning on his best friend checking pretty much all the boxes right off the bat. That couldn’t have been farther away from what he had in mind, he’s pretty fucking sure of it. And yet here he is. He’s slipped the list into the front pocket of his hoodie before they left the storage unit, and then he took it out to shove it in his laptop bag, where he’s pretty sure no one will find it. It’s not that he’s afraid Eliott would be weirded out about it, it’s just… It’s a lot. Because it’s one thing to be aware that your best friend is insanely attractive, and it’s another one to think that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t mind being the one he kisses, the one he pulls by the waist at night, and the one who makes him feel good in bed.

The irony of the calendar (and his life, really), makes it that the next few days are just a whirlwind of Eliott Eliott Eliott, and by the time Christmas rolls around, Lucas is ready to die. Not because he doesn’t want his best friend anywhere near, but because he would very, very much appreciate if his brain could just fucking stop bringing up that wishlist every fucking five minutes — every single time he so much as glances or thinks about Eliott. Which tends to be problematic when he’s literally living with him at the moment. All of a sudden it’s like he’s hyper-aware of all the times Eliott smiles at him, reaches out to ruffle his hair in the morning, or has a nice gesture of any kind. It’s like he feels somewhat guilty for every laughter they share, and when they go do some last-minute Christmas shopping, Lucas walks around on automatic pilot for the better part of the afternoon, after inadvertently catching sight of Eliott’s arm flung around his shoulders in a mirror.

The only upside of having a dysfunctional family is that for at least 24h it takes Lucas’ mind off Eliott and that weird-ass situation his fifteen-year-old self put him in the first place. He spends Christmas Eve with his father and his new wife in a restaurant, and if one can’t be caught dead trying anything to make his son feel at ease, the other is trying so fucking hard it makes Lucas wants to throw himself in the traffic on the way to pick up his mom at her subway stop. Because yes, his stepmother insisted that he brings his mother, and Lucas was chicken enough to accept, just so that he wouldn’t have to sit through the whole dinner with his father and his weirdly enthusiastic second wife.

The whole dinner is as awkward as it can possibly be, but then Lucas comes back to Eliott’s place, early enough that his best friend is still at his grandparents’, and he tries to make sense of the feeling of relief he feels when he drops himself on the couch, only to see Eliott’s sketchbook on the coffee table, and Eliott’s hoodie thrown carelessly on the armrest, and Eliott’s drawings pinned up on the walls, and the piano pushed in the corner. It used to be in Eliott’s bedroom back at his parents’, and they would mess around trying to get the Star Wars theme right with four hands on the keyboard.

None of these things feel new — but all the hyper-awareness is weird enough to make him want to scream and hits his head repeatedly with the flat of his hand. And the worst part is that it keeps going on like this. Spending Christmas day at the Demaurys’ shouldn’t feel so weird either, and yet. He’s always been Eliott’s platonic plus one at every single one of his family birthday dinner, so he knows everyone and everything about this family. He knows that one of Eliott’s uncles and his godfather will inevitably end up on different sides of an argument about politics, that Eliott’s dad will probably try to lighten the mood, that Eliott’s younger cousins will pout for a fair share of lunch or dinner except when they’ll venture on TikTok halfway through, that Eliott’s grandmother will make a passive-aggressive comment or two about the food that his mother will try to ignore, and at some point, as always, she’ll go to the kitchen, and make a weird face only for Lucas to see, and that he’ll have to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh — he knows all of that, because he’s been around for fifteen years.

But still it does feel weird. A little bit. And not just because he’s never spent a Christmas dinner with them. It feels weird, because it downs on him that Eliott is single, and that he’s single too, and that although Eliott’s mother welcomes him as soon as Eliott walks him and asks if they can add a plate, when they take off their coats, Lucas catches a silent conversation between her and her husband that results into Eliott’s dad shrugging. Did they ever think they were more than friends? Did they ever think Lucas was more than just the kid from across the street with a fucked-up family? Because he himself never did, but now it’s all he can think about. And if he had been a girl, or if Eliott had been a girl, if they had been in a boy/girl kind of friendship, he knows that at some point the Demaurys would have asked for ground rules, no matter how ridiculous it would have felt for them. No closed doors in the afternoon, no sleepovers in the same room, and with every birthday dinner or birthday lunch, people would have just assumed they were a particularly chill couple who refrained on PDA.

So that’s how he spends his Christmas lunch, alongside the Demaury family. He laughs at the jokes thrown around, at the same family memories he’s heard a bunch of times already, rolls his eyes at the political arguments on the other end of the table, and spends entirely too much time pondering the ins and outs of heteronormativity and the way it may or may not have shaped his relationship to his best friend.

“You okay?”, Eliott asks at some point on his way back from the kitchen, squeezing his shoulders lightly, and Lucas has to crane his neck all the way up to make eye-contact because his best friend is standing behind him.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” he says with a smile, and when Eliott goes to sit back at the table, Lucas tries his best to ignore another look he catches between Eliott’s parents.

“Can I ask you something?” Eliott asks from his spot against the stove, hands tightly wrapped around his mug while Lucas pours himself his second coffee of the day.

It’s officially the last week of the year, and to Lucas’ great dismay, he’s not particularly sure that any of his internal questioning sessions will die at midnight on New Year Eve. To make matters even worse, he doesn’t feel like he’s slept one bit, and although he initially tried to conceal it at best as he could, he guesses he’s making a poor job considering Eliott joined him for breakfast roughly three minutes ago and is already picking up on the signs.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas says, trying to sound relaxed, nose in his mug to avoid looking Eliott in the eyes.

“You would tell me if you didn’t want us to move in together, right?” Eliott enquires after a moment. “I mean, it’s not the first time I get an idea and I run away with it and you’re…”

“No, no, I still want to,” Lucas interrupts, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound as weird and scratchy as it feels in his throat. Because he does. He genuinely still does want to go through with it, because no matter how fucked up his brain is making things for him lately, Eliott is still the closest from home he’s ever felt.

Eliott hums. “Oh, okay,” his voice trails off, sounding hesitant, “I mean I was afraid you might have changed your mind and didn’t know how to tell me.”

Lucas laughs, but deep down he wants to slap himself because it sounds like chalk screeching on a blackboard in the silent kitchen corner. God you’re so fake. “I don’t know where you got this idea, I’m still 1000% in.”

Eliott looks sheepish, chewing onto his bottom lip uncomfortably. “Look, I know… I mean you’ve been kind of quiet lately, and I know sometimes you get lost in your head a bit. I don’t want you to think you can’t, like, talk to me or anything.”

Lucas’ grip tightens around his mug. He doesn’t deserve Eliott. No one does, but especially not him. “I’m fine it’s just… You know, Christmas mood isn’t my strong suit,” he mumbles, eyes falling. “Plus, going through all that stuff the other day… It brings up some memories.”

After all, it’s not a lie. It did bring up a lot of feelings and thoughts, and although they aren’t all that unpleasant, it’s surprisingly difficult to maintain eye-contact with your best friend when you spent most of the past few days trying not to picture his mouth on you.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott says, sounding so absolutely genuine that Lucas wants to smash something — preferably his head against the kitchen sink. “Of course I don’t know how you feel but, you’re not going through it alone, right? I’m here for you. Always have and always will.”

Lucas swears he could cry. He can’t possibly keep it to himself. Not when Eliott is his best friend, not when they’re just about to start looking for a place to live together, not when the longest Lucas has tried to hide a secret from him was exactly ten hours. “You’re checking a bunch of boxes,” Lucas confesses with a long sigh, eyes falling shut for a second.

A weird kind of silence settles in the kitchen, tension lodging between Lucas’ shoulders.

“What are you talking about?”, Eliott asks after a moment.

“The boyfriend list,” Lucas mumbles, shaking his head to himself. “Or wishlist or whatever. It’s fucking dumb, I know, and I never realized that before, but the other day I found that stupid list again in my stuff at the storage unit, and now I don’t know what to do with it, or what to think.”

If anyone needs a guide on how to ruin a lifelong friendship, Lucas Lallemant is your reference, he thinks humorlessly. But it’s Eliott. So maybe it’s not that bad, right? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. And okay, maybe he is making a big deal out of it, maybe he wouldn’t have to be afraid about Eliott’s reaction if he wasn’t the one making it sound like-

“And you feel like… it’s a problem?” Eliott asks carefully, as if he had followed his train of thoughts.

Lucas sneers, finally turning around to meet Eliott’s eyes. “Well, you tell me. I’m shaping my imaginary boyfriend after my childhood best friend, what does it say about me?” He’s pretty positive it’s not the sign of someone with a perfectly balanced life.

“That you have great taste,” Eliott grins, but it kind of turns into a wince when Lucas lets out a groan. “Hey, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want to, alright? I’m nothing extraordinary, I’m sure plenty of guys check those boxes.”

“But…?”, Lucas prompts, because it feels a lot like Eliott isn’t done but he’s really close to tell him that pausing for dramatic effect right now is definitely not the nice thing to do.

Eliott’s hands are still gripping tight his coffee mug. “But nothing. Like I said,” Eliott adds, clearing his throat a little, “it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Suddenly it hits Lucas that he sounds fucking nervous, like, actually nervous. Why is he nervous? Oh right. He just made things weird. “Why? Do you want it to mean something?”, he asks, hoping to go for a casual laugh, but it comes out wrong, off-key.

“Well… I started making a list too, a couple of years ago,” Eliott says, before pausing. His mouth twists a little. “And it’s… uh, it’s possible you’re checking a bunch of boxes as well.”

Well that’s just getting better and better, Lucas almost says. It’s Eliott’s turn to avoid his eyes and Lucas isn’t sure what’s going on but he’s pretty positive he doesn’t like it, because now things aren’t just weird on his part anymore, and he has no idea what to do with that piece of information.

Eventually, because he’s like that, Lucas snorts — it’s just too much. “Look, I appreciate it if you’re trying to make me feel better but-”

Eliott looks offended. “I’m not,” he says, sounding earnest, and Lucas’ words die in his throat. “Okay, you know what? Come with me.” He puts his mug down onto the kitchen elements, and Lucas doesn’t even have the time to say anything before Eliott motions to leave the kitchen, dragging him along in his wake. His own coffee mug still in his hands, he stares in confusion as they walk into the living room, his best friend going to retrieve one of his sketchbooks from the tiny coffee table.

The next few seconds are particularly silent as Eliott flicks through the pages, but he eventually exhumes a loose leaf from the depths of the sketchbook. What strikes Lucas first is that there’s a lot of black ink on it. Lines, sometimes full-on paragraphs have been crossed with a thick black marker, which offers a stark contrast with Eliott’s rather small but clean handwriting.

“See? I’m not lying,” he says, and he seems to hesitate for a split second, before he hands it to Lucas. “You can read it, if you want.”

No that’s personal, is the first thing that comes to his mind. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the kind of thing he would want people to think about his very own stuff — that it’s off-limit, that peeking is rude, that it’s intrusive. He knows he’s an adult, he knows that, and Eliott is an adult too, and even more so they literally grew up together, they figured shit out together, so it’s not like Eliott would bat an eye if he ever read anything about Lucas’ slightly graphic descriptions, no.

But would he die on the spot from the sheer embarrassment? Probably.

And yet — when Eliott holds his list, he picks it up. He’s a hypocrite like that.

“Boy there's a lot of marker,” he says dumbly, cocking an eyebrow, but deep down all he can think about is that he’s holding that stupid list Eliott wrote, about the things he wants in a partner, and he hates, he hates that there’s some kind of weird hope fluttering deep inside him.

His eyes skim over the entries, more avidly than he’d like to admit. Naturally, Eliott my-head-in-the-cloud Demaury cannot go straight to the point, so it’s not surprising that each entry turns out to be at least a full sentence long.

3- They don’t mind a good challenge and won’t pass on an occasion to try out new things even if that means stepping out of their comfort zone.

8- They understand that mental health isn’t smiling all the time.

14- They’re straight-forward enough to say when things aren’t fine and don’t dismiss it with a shrug.

“Okay but that could be anyone, Eliott,” Lucas says flatly, turning the page over, and he tries his best not to feel disappointed because it’s not like he has the right to be. “And I’m sorry but I think the last time someone called me ‘optimistic’ was, like, in kindergarten, and it was about another Lucas.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Eliott argues with a small shrug, and he buries his hands in his pockets. “To me it’s kind of… you. And I know it’s confusing because well, I was there too, but I feel like… I don’t know, the point of making a list like that in the first place is to figure out what matters and what we want, no?”

Lucas’ hand tightens around his mug. “I mean, yes,” he admits, voice dragging slowly on the last word. But does that mean you want me? He can’t get the words out, it’s like his mouth is full of gravel. Another reason why Eliott’s list can’t possibly be about him, he’s far, very, very far from being brave. Or even ‘quick-witted’ for that matter — he only has biting come-backs that would also get him beaten up in middle school. “But between knowing what makes you comfortable and knowing that you want to know your best friend in the biblical sense, there’s an ocean,” Lucas points out, a bit more dryly than intended.

Eliott’s cocks an eyebrow. “In the biblical sense,” he repeats, laughter not far behind as he perches himself onto the armrest of the couch, and just because of that, because of the subtle way Eliott’s voice changes, because Lucas knows he’s biting back a laugh — it’s because of these small things that the tension lifts a little, and that the atmosphere shifts to something more bearable.

“You know what I mean,” Lucas huffs.

Eliott grins, that kind of annoying grin that made Lucas smack his face with textbooks back in the days. “Oh, yeah, I do, don’t worry about that.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, eventually glancing back to Eliott’s list — but it’s like the words don’t print themselves in his brain, like he can’t comprehend those simple sentences written in Eliott’s oh-so-clean handwriting. “You haven’t told me what all that marker was about,” he croaks out after a moment of silence.

“And how about you tell me how you actually feel about this?”, Eliott asks gently. He rises up from the couch, stepping closer, and Lucas finally finds the courage to look up long enough to hand him back his list.

“I think that you deserve to find someone more than anyone else in the world,” Lucas says, voice getting a bit quiet as he grabs tightly his cold coffee mug with both hands. “But I don’t know if that someone could be me. I never thought… I mean it’s only been a couple of days, before that I never thought of us like that.”

“But you did in the end,” Eliott points out.

It gets Lucas’ brain to work, the wheels turning even faster — because Eliott’s right. He didn’t come to think of being romantically involved with Eliott because Eliott showed him his list, he got there all by himself. And the problem isn’t that Eliott is repulsing, it’s not that the thought of kissing him and going on dates with him is weird, it’s not that falling asleep next to Eliott is grossing him out. The problem is-

“I think I just don’t want to risk losing you,” Lucas admits in a whisper, eyes falling. He’s never been in an actual relationship. His list of exes should be requalified as, at best, weeks-long flings, and he does not particularly think he’ll be a natural at this, courtesy to his parents displaying the opposite of a healthy relationship for most of his life — the last thing he wants is to hurt Eliott in the process of trying and failing.

He only looks up when Eliott’s hands cover his own around the coffee mug. “I know. And I know no amount of promises on my part will make it better, but if you need me to I’ll repeat it every single day.” His thumb gently caresses the back of Lucas’ hand. “I’ll be there as long as you want me to. And if you don’t want me like that, then it’s fine too. I’ll still be there no matter what.”

Lucas takes a deeper inhale. “Why are you so calm about all of this? How long have you been sitting on that shit to be so chill now?”

Eliott looks sheepish. “Two, three years maybe.” Lucas’ mouth falls open, but Eliott quickly adds: “I mean, it’s not that I was like, just fantasizing about you for like three years straight, it’s just that, like, I always thought you were always the one that…” His voice trails off and he huffs a laugh. “See why I didn’t say anything before? It’s just… it’s so hard to explain.”

“Yeah,” Lucas snorts, chewing onto his bottom lip. “Tell me about it.”

But deep down he’s starting to understand what Eliott means. It’s hard to put into words every little thing that makes Eliott the person he needs most. Something not even a list of a thousand entries can do. And maybe that’s why it feels so alien that, to Eliott, he’s the perfect match to his wishlist. To me it is you, Eliott had said before, and now he gets it. He gets it because Eliott’s hands are around his own, he gets it because Eliott would probably be willing to tattoo ‘I will not leave you alone’ somewhere on his arm if Lucas asked. He gets it because Eliott has been sitting on his own feelings for three years, and still he helped him out pick up guys, sort out his life, encouraged him to leave for a whole different country, and he was only brave enough to go through any of it because Eliott made him feel like he was capable of doing so.

“My list is a mess,” Lucas confesses. “And I should probably cover a thing or two before you see it because that’s, like, not appropriate for a first table read. But if you want to read it… Then you can read it. And then you can decide if you think you can put up with me more than you already do.”

Eliott’s smile is soft and blinding at the same time. He takes one of his hands off Lucas’, and when he pulls him closer by the neck, Lucas still feels weird about it, but not in a bad way; there’s just something churning in his stomach that wasn’t there not so long ago. He just leans into the touch as Eliott’s lips press onto his cheek, because Eliott smells good, and it makes him feel warm and protected in a way no one else ever made him feel.

“I’ll be honest,” Eliott says quietly, not pulling much away, “that’s why there’s so much marker on mine.”

This time Lucas feels warm for a whole different reason. He feels the tip of his ears heating up a little bit, and he’s positive it doesn’t have to do with Eliott’s immediate vicinity. “Well,” he says, clearing his throat a little bit, “that’s… something to think about.”

“One step at a time though.”

Lucas finds himself smiling, mirroring Eliott’s expression, his eyes trailing a second too long on Eliott’s lips. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

#skam france #elu fic #eluficrec #mine #*#it's been so long i feel like i don't know how to write anymore <333 #*my fics

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cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Interview Trouble- Tom Holland Mini Series

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: You and Tom spend a lot of time during interviews denying your secret relationship.

Word Count: 2000

Based On: I Hate Love Songs by Kelsea Ballerini

Warning: a tiny tiny bit of sexual implications

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Y/N, you’re on in ten.” Your assistant told you through your dressing room door.

“Be out in a minute!” You called back to her before returning to your phone.

“How do I look?” You asked Tom through FaceTime.

“Beautiful.” He beamed, making you blush. “Do I look alright?”

“You’re going to the pub, you’re not going to an interview.” You teased, “But you look great.”

“Hurry up and come home, darling. It’s not the same without you here.” Tom pouted.

“Three more days.” You told him. “I have to go before they ask why I’m taking so long.”

“I love you.” He replied, blowing a kiss to the camera.

“I love you too.” You blew a kiss back before hanging up the phone. You let out a sigh as you set your phone down and double checked your appearance in the mirror.

Six months ago, you and Tom began your relationship, but decided to keep it out of the public eye. Even before you were dating, there were rumors that you two were an item, so you both knew it’d be better to keep your privacy. With you being a successful musician and Tom being a successful actor, your differing schedules kept you quite busy, but you always managed to find a few days to see each other.

You exited your dressing room and were ushered on stage for your interview with Ellen. Smiling and waving, you walked out onto stage as music played and the audience cheered. You gave Ellen a welcoming hug and took a seat in your chair.

“Welcome back. It’s nice to see you again.” Ellen greeted you.

“Thank you for having me back. I love coming here.” You smiled.

The interview started off simple with questions asking about your new album. It wasn’t until after the commercial break that the interview steered into dangerous territory with you.

“Your lead single is called “I Hate Love Songs”.” Ellen started and you nodded, letting out a nervous laugh, “So, would you not consider yourself a hopeless romantic then?”

“I think I have some hopeless romantic qualities, but not the big cliche ones. I wrote the song as more of a sweet, satire about love songs.”

“Did you write it with anyone in mind?” She asked teasingly.

“No, I don’t think so.” You laughed. You could feel your cheeks warming up because you definitely wrote that song with Tom as your inspiration.

“You don’t think so? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you expected me to have someone in mind. I don’t need to have a boyfriend to write a love song.”

“So you’re single then?”

“Yes.” You lied.

“You’re saying yes, but you’re blushing very hard right now. Anyway, I thought I could help you out with ‘Who’d You Rather?’” She teased.

“Okay.” You let out a laugh and watched as the screen pulled up two photos.

“So, Joe Keery or Timothee Chalamet?”

“Oh, I love Joe so much, but I think I’m going with Timmy.” You stated.

“Alright, Timmy. Timmy or Shawn Mendes?”

“I know Shawn, though.”

“So Shawn?”

“I’ll go with Shawn because I know him personally.”

“You know, this is dating and it’s not real. But anyway,” Ellen said, and you held back a laugh as Tom’s picture came on screen. The cheers from the audience increased as everyone had heard the rumors, “Shawn or Tom Holland?”

“Tom’s a good friend too, though.” You replied.

“Rumor has it you know him well.” She joked, making you laugh.

“Do you want me to pick Tom? Is that what this is?” You asked.

“I’m just saying.” She shrugged teasingly.

“We’ll go with Tom then.” You nodded as the cheering increased.

“Tom or Ryan Gosling?”

“I’ll go with Tom still.” Your somewhat fast response made even Ellen laugh. A few rounds later, you were still on Tom. You knew you had to switch off of him before you said anything too consequential. You also knew that Tom would watch this interview and you were entertained by the thought of him figuring out you chose someone else over him.

“Tom or Niall Horan?” Ellen asked you.

“Ooh,” You let out, thinking about it. “So you see, Niall was always my favorite in One Direction.”

“Is Niall beating out Tom finally? Is Tom going to be upset with that?” You could tell where she was going, trying to get you to spill something about your life.

“Why would Tom be upset?” You replied.

“Well, you know.” Ellen hinted.

“I gotta go with Niall.” You smiled with a shrug, playing off her attempts. The line of photos ended there, signaling the end of the game.

“So I got Niall?” You asked.

“Yes, unless you want to go back and choose Tom.” She offered.

“I’m fine with Niall.”

The next day, you got a call from Tom that began with “So Niall Horan is my competition?”

~~~

Before you could go back to London, you did a Carpool Karaoke session with James Corden. After going through the basic interview questions and a few songs, James shifted the interview’s focus onto your personal life.

“Now, how often do you get to go out and watch a movie? You know, actually go to the cinema and see a film?” James asked.

“I wouldn’t say I go often, but I go whenever there’s a good film out that I really want to see.” You said, already knowing where this was headed.

“Do you go see Marvel movies in cinema? I heard you’re a fan.”

“I try to go see those so that they aren’t spoiled for me. It’s really difficult though because so many people go see them. I’d have to be really inconspicuous.”

“Who would you say is your favorite superhero?”

“That’s tough.” You sighed. Feeling in the mood to tease the fans out there, “I think I’d say Spider-Man. He’s always been so relatable.”

“You don’t have another underlying reason for picking Spider-Man?” James asked with a laugh.

“Nope, definitely not.” You laughed.

“Now, do you currently have a favorite actor?”

“My favorite? That’s a difficult one.” You stated, thinking it through.

“There’s not one specific actor that comes to mind? Not even one specific brunet British actor that you hang out with a lot, who even plays Spider-Man?” James pressed.

“You sound like you have one in mind.” You teased.

“I think I’d go with Tom Holland right now. What do you think about him?”

“He’s a good friend and a good actor too. I’ll say he’s my favorite if you want me to.”

“Would you ever date an actor like Tom?”

“I don’t know.” You stated.

“Is that you actually don’t know or you don’t want to say anything that will lead to rumors?”

“I normally don’t have to say anything for rumors to start.” You joked, making him laugh.

“I think you just started some right there.” He laughed as the music started up again. You knew that this video would spark so many rumors just with that comment.

~~~

A few days later, you and Tom were celebrating you coming back to town. You were at a club in London and definitely thought that the two of you were being sneakier with your actions. You were so caught up in how much you loved Tom that, for a night, you forgot you were trying to be discreet about your relationship; so caught up that you and Tom both thought that you were safe making out in a corner of a crowded club before making your way to a vip room together. That was an issue saved for the next day.

“Tom, answer your damn phone before I throw it out the window.” You mumbled into his chest as he began to wake up.

“Good morning to you too.” Tom chucked. He kissed the top of your head before stretching over to grab his phone from the nightstand.

“Holy shit.” He breathed out, blinking rapidly as his phone continued to get flooded with texts, emails, and all other sorts of notifications.

“What happened?” You asked, sitting up and stretching so he could fully sit up.

“Someone saw us last night.” Tom said, showing you the latest video trending on Twitter. It was the two of you from the club; Tom had you pushed up against the wall with his hands running over your butt as you pulled on his hair. The video ended with you two making your way to the private room. The video was poor quality, but there was no denying who it was. By the end of it, both of you sported messed up hair and Tom was basically wearing your lipstick. You felt sick to your stomach thinking that millions of people have seen that by now.

“I have Graham Norton tonight, and I know I’ll be asked about it.” He groaned.

“There’s no way we can play that off.” You sighed, “I didn’t want to go public yet.”

“I know. I liked having this secret.” Tom ran an anxious hand through his hair.

“You’ve dodged relationship questions before. It’ll be fine.” You gave him a reassuring kiss.

“God, I hope so. I should call my manager. It might be good if you did that too.” He said and you nodded, knowing he was right.

Your managers both came to the same conclusion: don’t discuss it and act like it didn’t happen. Both of you had brushed off relationship rumors before; this was just more difficult to ignore.

Sitting on the couch among a few other celebrities, Tom felt himself feeling more nervous than usual.

“So, Tom, how are you feeling today?” Graham asked right off the bat.

“I’m feeling good. Thanks.” Tom nodded, letting out a nervous laugh.

“You didn’t have too rough of a night? Not hungover or sore or anything?”

“No, my night was fine.”

“Oh, ‘fine’ is how you’d describe it?” Graham turned to the audience, “I don’t know if anyone heard, but Tom had a pretty interesting night.” A photograph of you and Tom last night appeared on screen, causing the audience to cheer. “Y/N just said she was single a few days ago; did you make a move last night or was this a pre-established thing?”

“I don’t- no.” Tom laughed, scratching his neck in an anxious manner. “Photoshop these days, man. Incredible.”

“So that wasn’t a video of you and Y/N getting it on in public?” He teased.

“Definitely not.” Tom shook his head. “Y/N and I are just good friends.”

“I wonder how many girls are out there wanting to be your good friend.” Graham joked, before moving on to ask Tom about his movie. And for that, Tom was grateful.

~~~

“Are you sure about this?” Tom asked, squeezing your hands gently.

“Yes, it’s time we just get it over with. They already know.” You laughed lightly, making him chuckle as well.

You and Tom had decided to finally go public with your relationship by confirming it in the music video for your latest single, “I Hate Love Songs”. You filmed it a few weeks ago, and it would be released today.

Tom held you as you watched over the video one last time before your team posts it. In the video, you walked through the usual cliche scenes of love stories: catching bouquets, romantic movie nights, and kissing in the rain. At the end of the video, the camera cut over to you as you walked over to a large bed. You laid down and winked at the camera, before Tom appeared next to you and pulled you into a kiss.

“What do you think?” You asked as the video ended.

“I love it. And I love you.” Tom smiled.

“I love you too.” You kissed before giving your team the okay to release it. You stayed cuddled up in Tom’s arms as you watched the different reactions flood in. As expected, the media went crazy with the confirmation and the fans were living for the fact that you two were actually together.

~~~

Part Two

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

Note

I didn’t remember the exact words I used in the request😂, but I thank for not deleting the translator’s history (I always use it to check that my sentence makes sense) 😅🤦 I wrote: “Ok, as I love the angst even though it hurts, after the end of the Onyx season I need drama. He could request that Vinca seriously injure MC to force her to kneel and Onyx arrives at that moment and sees her injured bleeding. Thank you” Thanks again❤

Warning: Mentions of injury.

…

You’re alone, again. Alone with Vinca, right after she dragged you away. Her expression is, for once, carefully blank. A far cry from her cocky smirk, dangerous edge, and intimidating presence. She still towers over you, nails digging into the skin of your arm, keeping you in place. Her gaze is still intense and powerful, hard like ice, too cold, too sharp, too deep. But it doesn’t have the same effect it usually does, like it’s muffled, like you are facing not the almighty Pride but the shadow she casts.

She almost seems resigned. Tired.

“You really think you’re something special, don’t you?” She murmurs. The knifes adorning her dress glint under the lights, blinding you this close to her. Her voice falls over you like a heavy blanket and you find yourself incapable of ignoring her. “That you can swoop in and save Onyx, just like that? As if this is a fairytale and you are its heroine?” Her lips peel back into a silent snarl. Every word courses through your body like lighting, and you take a second to wonder how you ended up like this, slumped in her hands as if you were a broken marionette. You should be doing more than this. You should be fighting the very universe for Onyx.

Instead you gaze up at Vinca’s eyes, and feel miserable.

“Do you seriously think you matter that much?” She continues. “Don’t be ridiculous… the only one who knows what Onyx really needs is me, her sister. And believe me when I say… she’d be better off without you.”

Green eyes as clear and pure as life itself. A smile as sweet as your favorite dessert. Her melodic voice and its alluring accent, ringing inside your dreams and hopes and future. Her warm touch and comforting embrace.

You scowl up at Vinca, still miserable, hurt by her words, but refusing to back down. So what if you were in over your head? What if you were tricked in the beginning? What if you had to endure demons and magic and mind-reading? Your emotions and feelings were still true. You should – no, you would fight the very universe for Onyx. You shouldn’t hesitate.

So Vinca knows what’s best? You can only think of one thing in response to that, after recalling long nights with Onyx, her nostalgic whispers of a better time: bullshit.

“Say what you will, Vinca, but I won’t kneel.”

Vinca grumbles. Pierces you with another half-hearted glare. “All this fighting makes me sick. Doesn’t it tire you, too? Don’t you want it to be over?” She urges, tightening her grip over your arm, pushing you down, down, down. “Don’t you want her to be free?”

“She will, but not because of you.”

She dodges your punch with barely any effort, expression tight with fury. She doesn’t retaliate when you pounce on her, attempting to knock her down, to land a single kick, to show her how wrong she is.

She groans with frustration with every attempt you make, bristling.

“You can’t say I didn’t try.” She hisses, and suddenly Pride is back at the next blink. Her gaze burns your very soul with its sudden intensity, and she dances out of your reach. She’s clearly toying with you, like a cat with its prey, knowing it has the upper-hand and allowing the prey to believe it has a chance at all.

It feels like that when Vinca suddenly switches to offense and you see you never had a chance at all, no matter how good you’ve gotten at fighting. It’s the same overwhelming feeling of helplessness that convinced you to leave med school, only a hundred times stronger. You can’t land a punch, straining to keep up with her, while Vinca has enough time to flick several knifes at you, each drawing blood. You must have a dozen or so wounds at this point, if not more, and they only increase with each passing second. Eventually, your defenses fall – you are too tired – and Vinca manages to grab a handful of your hair, a sick, almost maniac smirk on her face. She smashes your head against the nearest wall at the next second. Pain explodes inside your skull, throbbing, overpowering everything else. Dazed, you try to recover, try to defend yourself, but a knee collides against your side with the strength of a raging bull and you can’t help but double over, trying not to fall. Vinca finishes your pitiable attempt with a clean hit to your exposed nape. You collapse at her feet with a groan.

“I’ll make you regret everything, Victoria.” You can barely make out her voice thanks to the ringing in your ears. You can barely see how she drops down in front of you, everything is too blurry. There’s something glinting by her hand… one of her knifes?

You shudder, trying to escape, but you’re still too disoriented and Vinca is too fast. She hums a lazy tune, as if she’s in no hurry, and you hiss when you feel how she grabs your shirt – the shirt Onyx spent so long working on – and pulls you upwards, moving your body as she pleases. You try to wriggle out, try to fight how she bends your knees and forces your gaze downwards, but she’s stronger.

You choke out a strangled gasp. Try to push her away with increasing desperation, then cry out thanks to a sudden, sharp, stinging pain in your arm… there’s no doubt Vinca just cut you, and deep. Warmth floods your arm as blood flows out. You blink down at it, trying to get your eyes to focus, to assess the wound.

But it’s over. You’re kneeling.

“How does it feel, Victoria? Still think you’re the heroine?” Vinca asks, toying with yet another knife. It hovers just over your exposed stomach.

You push her away, trembling. “Leave me alone.”

Vinca looks at you with disgust. “You need to learn.”

But before she can get any closer, there’s a blur of golden. Vinca lets out a surprised yelp, and suddenly Onyx is there, standing where Vinca had been, green eyes wide with worry as she takes you in.

“Your arm – Victoria, your arm.” She whispers, hands hovering over your skin as if she’s afraid to touch. “B-breathe, Victoria. I’m here. I’m here.”

“About time you showed up.” Vinca snorts somewhere to your right, sounding vaguely amused. Onyx barely gives her a glare. “Looks like your oh so wonderful girlfriend failed, Onyx. How does that make you feel?”

Onyx grits her teeth. Continues to ignore her in favor of reaping some of her clothes, trying to tend to your wound. Your senses are returning.

“That’s enough, Vinca!” Someone – Wrath, you realize with a relieved smile – barks. “Don’t move.”

“You just like making everything more difficult, don’t you?”

There’s a growl. Demons pour out of the shadows like rabid dogs, snapping to attention at Vinca’s command. You see Cal drawing closer to you, giving you a worried glance that barely lasts a second.

“We need to go.” He informs you, shooting and kicking any demon that gets close enough.

“Right! Right.” Onyx replies, but she’s pale. Her hands are shaking over your arm, taking in the hundred cuts you are sporting. “Don’t leave me, Victoria.” She murmurs. “Please, don’t close your eyes.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay. I didn’t… I didn’t lose too much blood.” But you definitely have a concussion. Your ears are still ringing, and the world spins when Onyx carefully helps you up. Seeing how pained she is makes you want to scream. This wasn’t supposed to happen – maybe Vinca was right, you do want to be some kind of heroine and save Onyx from everything that ever burdened her. You should have stalled. Done something else.

And Onyx looks so scared. God, so, so scared. It’s not fair to her.

Not for the first time, you curse Vinca, Dorran, and every single demon you’ve ever come across.

#Anonymous #answered #lovestruck #sin with me #onyx x mc #lovestruck onyx #onyx wren #lovestruck swm #swm #light angst #tw injury

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winryofresembool · 3 years

Text

Caleo fic: It’s all about the name

Chapters 1-2

Summary: Calypso is a barista at a coffee shop and one day she gets a customer who refuses to give her his real name. At first he seems really annoying but eventually Calypso finds out not all is what it looks like on the surface.

a/n: Surprise! The coffee shop AU we Caleo shippers deserve! This fic is based on @caldez /minervaparadi-no's headcanons so a /big/ thank you goes to you for allowing me to work with your headcanons! Here you can read them if you want to! I might have modified some of them slightly to go better with this exact storyline but I tried to stick as close to them as possible.

Anyway, this fic got way longer than I anticipated because I wanted to see more than just the first meeting, so that's why I'm going to split it into 5 short-ish chapters. The first 2 I'm posting today but the rest of the fic, while almost complete, is still unedited so I will probably post more in a few days. I'm not sure exactly how long it will take because my little niece will visit us starting from tomorrow and I'm really bad at focusing when there's a lot going on around me... but know that more is coming soon. Same goes for Things We Lost in the Fire!

As usual, remember to let me know what you think because it will literally make my day!!

Words: 3,1k+

Genre: fluff, humor

Warnings: none

AO3 (Btw I’m considering changing my posting platform but more about that later)

...

Calypso wasn’t having the best of days. If she was honest to herself, being a coffee shop barista had never been her dream to begin with, and busy days like this particularly reminded her of that fact. The coffee shop she was working at was currently low on staff because one of Calypso’s coworkers had hurt her ankle on a slippery road and another one had caught a cold. Calypso felt like she would have needed at least 5 extra hands to get everything she wanted to do done, and it didn’t help that some of the customers had decided to be extra difficult that day.

One older woman had already tried to run from the coffee shop without paying for her order and Calypso had had to run after her, finally managing to make her come back to pay by telling her that she would call the police if the woman wouldn't obey. Another customer had yelled at her for supposedly messing up his order, claiming that he had ordered an iced mocha instead of iced coffee. Luckily Calypso’s manager had shown up just in time and explained very calmly to the customer that mocha was coffee, but the incident still left a sour taste in Calypso’s mouth. Afterwards, the manager just shook her head and told Calypso to not care about it; she knew the young woman was quite a perfectionist so she took the setbacks quite hard.

Either way, after serving the customers for four hours straight, Calypso felt she was in a serious need of a break. She was just about to let her coworkers know she’d go to the backroom when a new customer stopped in front of her, changing her plans. It was a young man, probably around her age, Calypso guessed, with curly black hair and tan skin. Thanks to his messy outfit and the mischievous gleam in his eyes he gave her an impression of one of those guys who caused chaos wherever they went just because it was fun.

Tapping his fingers nervously on the desk, he asked: “Double espresso, to go, and please be fast because my boss is gonna kill me if I’m back late. I don’t normally drink coffee but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Calypso had already been on the edge before this customer had showed up but something about his ‘be fast’ order really rubbed her the wrong way.

“Alright, then,” she said, still trying to stay calm and refraining to tell him that they worked just as fast for every customer. “And what name should I write on the cup?”

“Bad Boy Surprise,” he replied, remaining completely poker faced. Calypso made a growling sound before managing to stop herself.

“What was that?” the young man asked, not missing her reaction.

“Nothing, must have been our coffee machine,” she lied and pretended to be focused on the espresso making. The guy still didn’t leave the queue, though, as if he wanted to say something more. “Now, Bobby, would you please move so we can serve the next customer. Your drink will be brought to that counter over there in a minute.” Calypso pointed at the said counter.

“OK, Sunshine,” the guy said, giving her a quick grin before finally leaving her alone. What a nuisance, Calypso sighed to herself as she wrote the name Bobby on his cup instead of Bad Boy Supreme. Still, she would probably have to apologize for her behavior because she did not want the guy to complain to her manager. It wasn’t really his fault that she had already had a lousy day and his arrival was simply the final straw that cut the camel’s back.

Soon she finished making the drink and found the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ waiting at the other counter. His back was towards her, as he was checking out the coffee shop, and Calypso noticed he was carrying a big backpack. Maybe he was carrying some of his work equipment there, she guessed, before calling his name.

“Ahem. Mister Bobby. Your drink is here.”

‘Bobby’ turned towards her, for a moment clearly amused by the fact that she still refused to use the name that he had given her. Unfortunately, him turning caused a series of unfortunate events. The backpack accidentally hit a small milk jug that had been a bit too close to the edge of the counter. It fell, spilling the milk all over the counter and startling Calypso who had still been attaching the lid to the espresso cup. The cup slipped from her hand, the espresso spreading on the counter, floor and Calypso’s clothes. For a moment both Calypso and the guy just stared at the mess, not sure how to react. Calypso’s mouth formed an ‘O’ of shock before she finally snapped.

“IDIOT! LOOK WHAT YOU JUST DID! It will take me ages to clean this mess! Ugh, my clothes are wet too!” She tried to dab her wet apron with a paper towel. The guy seemed genuinely sorry, even though Calypso was too angry to pay attention to it.

“Look, I can replace the…” he started but Calypso didn’t let him finish.

“I just want you to go,” she said in a low voice. “Please, leave before I call my manager.”

“You’re not being fair now,” the guy said but conceded anyway. “I would have paid… But fine, I’ll get my espresso elsewhere.”

‘Bobby’ left and once the dust settled a bit, Calypso noticed her coworkers were giving her disapproving glances.

“Um, Calypso, was that really necessary?” One of them asked. “It was quite clearly an accident. Could have happened to any of us. And he really seemed sorry.”

All the anger suddenly left Calypso and she felt like an airless balloon. “I’m… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I… need to do something in the backroom…” she excused herself before she started crying in front of everyone. Dashing past them, she left the perplexed coworkers clean the fallen drinks.

Once alone in the backroom, she buried her head into her arms and let the frustrations of the day come out. She wasn’t allowed to be alone for long, though, because soon the manager came in and started talking to her.

“I just came back from running some errands and heard some things about you causing a scene while I was gone. What was that about? You’re pretty much the last person in my staff who I’d expect to lose it in front of customers.” The manager raised her eyebrow questioningly.

Calypso started by saying that she didn’t want to make any excuses but it was a result of several things having gone wrong that day. She knew she had been totally inappropriate, but she just hadn’t been able to stop herself in that moment. Still hiding her face behind her hands, she also mumbled she would understand if the manager wouldn’t want to keep her around after that incident, but to that the manager just snorted.

“Listen, Calypso,” she said once Calypso had finished her story. “Mistakes happen to all of us. Do you think I have never snapped at idiotic customers? Even if the drink spilling was an accident, it sounds like that customer kind of deserved it for being a jerk towards you.”

“But… what if he spreads the word about my behavior and people start avoiding our coffee shop?” Calypso asked worriedly.

“I don’t think one person will have that big of an effect on our coffee shop,” the manager smiled. “We have survived our previous setbacks just fine. However,” she got more serious. “There is something you can do. To avoid the bad feedback from spreading, you will apologize to the guy for the yelling. And you could also offer him a free beverage since he got nothing to drink this time.” “But I have no idea who he was!” Calypso exclaimed, not happy about the thought of having to encounter that customer again. “He didn’t even say his real first name; he just gave me some joke name when I asked what I should write on the cup.”

“You can ask the others if any of them have seen him here before,” the manager suggested.

“Alright,” Calypso complied. “I will do that. But if they don’t know who he is…”

“Then we’ll just have to live with the fact that one customer out of the hundreds we get daily is not happy with us,” the manager said lightly before getting more serious. “Calypso, it’s not the end of the world. The main thing is that you understand what you did wrong and will do your best to not repeat it.”

Calypso was very relieved her boss took her incident that calmly. Not everyone would have been that patient, she thought, remembering some very unpleasant memories from her childhood. Already calmer after her manager’s words, she washed her face and changed into a dry apron before joining her coworkers to ask them about the guy she had yelled at. Turned out that one of them in fact remembered seeing him before.

“Yeah, I remember that guy,” Reyna, the coworker said. “He was here a couple of days ago and gave a fake name even then. I think it was Super-sized McShizzle or something like that. Anyway, he was wearing a work shirt that had a logo of a place called Waystation printed on it. I think it’s a car repair shop or something like that, but I’m not entirely sure. That could be a clue, though; maybe he works for them.”

“Waystation?” Calypso repeated, memorizing the name. “Alright, I’ll try to see if I find something with that name. Later. I’m not sure I’m mentally able to talk to him right now… I’m still a bit on the edge, to be honest.”

“Alright,” Reyna said understandingly. “If you want to, you can take care of the dishes for the rest of the day. I’ll deal with the customers.”

“Thanks,” Calypso said gratefully. “That would be good.”

“Hey, Cal?” Reyna asked tentatively, pulling her into a more private corner before she left for the dishes. “Are you sure you are OK? I don’t know, you have just seemed a bit off for a while now. Not just today.”

“Um, it’s nothing…” Calypso replied hesitantly, pretending to be interested in her hands. Reyna kept glaring at her suspiciously, though, so she continued: “Well, it’s not nothing, but… you know. It’s about /him/. I just heard the other day that the real reason why he broke up with me was because he wanted to date someone else. Yeah. Not the first time that has happened. I’m starting to get used to it.”

“Calypso…” Reyna said sympathetically. “I think I know what you’re thinking right now. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. You just… weren’t meant to be with him. Trust me, I know. I was pretty upset after I found out about Jason and Piper, but… it kind of forced me to think what I really want. And I realized that I can be happy even without a romantic partner. I’m not saying that’s your solution, but I’m saying that maybe there’s a reason why it didn’t work out with Percy. Maybe there’s someone else waiting to meet you.”

“Like who? That Bad Boy Supreme guy?” Calypso attempted to joke.

“Who knows, maybe even him,” Reyna said teasingly. The conversation ended there because a new customer was waiting for Reyna to serve her, and Calypso withdrew into the backroom to do the dishes.

…

After work Calypso laid down on her bed in her small studio apartment and decided to do some research on the mysterious Bad Boy Supreme. She searched for Waystation on her phone, learning that besides the car repairs they also sold flowers and had an animal shelter in the area. Checking the staff information, she hoped to find the names or even pictures of their employees so she could maybe progress with her search. However, it seemed they did not have up to date information on their workers on the website so instead Calypso decided to check where the place was located. It was only about a kilometer from their coffee shop, close enough that she could go there before or after work and ask for a Bad Boy Supreme. Deciding to do that the next day, she put her phone down and blew the frustrations of the day out of her system. Even though many things had not gone her way, she felt grateful that the people at her work were so supportive. It was very different from what she had gotten used to earlier in her life.

...

The next day Calypso had an evening shift at the coffee shop, but she decided to leave an hour early from her apartment so she could drop by Waystation on her way to work. It took a while for Calypso to find because the area was full of similar looking buildings and there weren’t a lot of signs around telling her where to go. Knocking the door, Calypso secretly hoped that the Bad Boy Supreme himself would open it so she could just get done with her business, but of course she wasn’t that lucky. The person showing up was an older woman, Calypso guessed probably in her 60ies, who looked fit for her age, though. The woman looked at her questioningly for a moment before finally saying: “Hello. How can I help you?”

“I am looking for a guy who presumably works here,” Calypso started. “At least, that’s what my coworker thinks. He visited our coffee shop yesterday and, um… there was this little incident I wanted to talk to him about. I don’t know his real name but he was probably around my age, kind of short, dark, curly hair, and he called himself ‘Bad Boy Supreme’. Does that ring any bells?”

“Oh, yes, I know who you are talking about.” The woman’s eyes flashed in recognition. “Did he get into some kind of trouble again? Goodness, he may be our best mechanic but he seems to be quite a trouble magnet…”

“Oh no, it isn’t like that. It was just an accident. I’m the one who’s here to apologize,” Calypso corrected her.

“Alright, then. I’ll get him now. You can come in to wait,” The woman said before disappearing further into the building. Calypso stepped inside and looked around curiously. It seemed like the people working at Waystation also lived there; from the hallway she could see a big kitchen and a stairway presumably to the bedrooms. On the walls there were pictures of two women (one of them Calypso recognized as the one who had opened the door) and a little girl looking happy to spend time together. There were also pictures related to their work: some of the nicer cars they had fixed and animals they had taken care of. Before Calypso had time to check them closer, though, the woman arrived with a young man following her. He seemed really surprised to see her.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it,” the woman said before going back to her work.

“You’re that girl from the coffee shop. What are you doing here? And how did you find me?” the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ asked suspiciously once they were alone. He crossed his arms, giving him the kind of glare that told Calypso he wasn’t very happy to see her, and to be fair, she couldn’t really blame him.

Suddenly Calypso felt silly about having dashed into the guy’s workplace without a warning like some kind of stalker. “I… I, um, asked my coworkers if they knew you because my boss and I agreed that I should apologize for my behavior… and someone thought you probably worked here because you had this place’s name on your shirt… so, yeah, here I am. To apologize. I’m sorry. And I realize now how weird this is. You know, me coming here. But I still wanted to let you know that if you still want to visit our coffee shop, we’ll give you a free drink because you didn’t get what you asked for yesterday.” The guy listened to her intently. He seemed to try to determine if she was being sincere, and eventually he asked: “You sure you want me there? If I remember correctly, the last time you wanted me out of there even though it was an accident.”

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize here.” A flash of anger went through Calypso again, but she tried to bite it back. “I realize I wasn’t acting like a decent coffee shop barista should back then. If you want to, we can even have someone else serve you, but I mean what I say.”

Suddenly the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ started laughing. Calypso just stared at him, feeling slightly offended, until he finally managed to speak.

“I’m sorry for laughing, but girl, you have guts. I mean this in a good way. Not all the people I know would have come here to apologize to me after that kind of incident. You wouldn’t have needed to do that, I think I would have just forgotten about the whole thing eventually. I’m kind of used to being yelled at, you know? But I appreciate you coming here.” Then he grinned at her. “You know what? I think I’ll accept your offer. I’ll come to your coffee shop tomorrow; today Jo is making me work on this really challenging yet beautiful car and I don’t think I’ll have time to leave the place. But I’d like you to be the one serving me because it’s your apology, right?”

“Are you always this annoying?” Calypso asked, not quite sure how she should react to his response. Luckily, the guy didn’t get offended by her question.

“Some people I know may say yes, but I myself say I’m annoying only when I’m nervous around a pretty girl.”

Calypso was surprised by the compliment. She had noticed that he hadn’t had that mischievous glint in his eye when he had said it, which probably meant he was being sincere. “Oh, OK... Thanks, I guess?”

“Welcome. Just saying what I think.”

Calypso felt a bit flustered all of a sudden and didn’t know how to respond to that so she ended up tugging a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and checked the time from her phone. “Well, I should get going now, but ask for a Calypso if you can’t see me when you come to our coffee shop.”

“Calypso?” the guy seemed to evaluate the name. “Aw, I thought Sunshine suited you better. Can I at least call you Calie? Or Cal?”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Calypso shrugged. “Um, sorry but I only have like 15 minutes until my shift starts so I really should go now. But I’ll see you soon.”

“Alright, see ya.”

When Calypso was already out of the building, she realized she had still not asked the guy’s name.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #my fics

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