#i could stare at that drawing for hours tbh! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-aexotic · 1 year

Note

could you do a rafe imagine where reader is a pouge and she’s working at the country club as a server or as a bust gal and kelce says something about her but rafe secretly likes the reader and he defends her and gets pissed at his friends for talking bad about her or saying something degrading or ojectifyinfg about her and then the reader finds out rafe defended her from topper ?? Bc topper is secretly kind (apart from the fire tbh) and reader confronts rafe about why he defended her

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. sooo much fluff, degrading language towards women, a fight (kinda), out of character top/rafe, lmk if i missed anything!

summary. rafe has a crush on you and topper makes it his top priority to get you two together after you confess your feelings, too.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

You were exhausted at this time of day and you just wanted to go home and rest. Your eyes were heavy and your feet hurt from these stupid heels the club makes you wear. You had one last table before you could clock out; you could already feel the warm bath you were going to draw tonight.

Until you saw who you were serving; Kook royalty themselves. Rafe, Topper, Kelce and a few guys you don't recall the names of. You prepared yourself for the longest hour serving these boys.

You walked up to them, a big smile on your lips. If you were going to serve some snotty Kooks you might as well get a good tip. "Hey, um. I'm Y/N, and I'm your waiter for tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?"

You handed out the menus and you could already feel their stares at your body and face, making you feel a tiny bit self conscious. In the corner of your eye you saw Kelce turn to one of the boys to whisper something and he immediately turned red before letting out a chuckle.

You saw Topper and Rafe make eye contact before Rafe rolled his eyes, making Topper sigh.

"Sure, for me, I don't know about the others though." Topper nodded politely as you smiled.

"Yeah, I'm super thirsty." One of the boys had commented as the whole table (minus Topper and Rafe) erupted in laughter. You were disgusted and honestly disappointed, I mean, how low could these jerks get?

Rafe cleared his throat and the whole table became quiet once again. "Me and Top are going to get some Old-Fashion's. I don't know about the others."

"Make that three more." Kelce added and you nodded politely, jotting it down quickly on the notepad.

"Okay, I will be right back with your drinks. Take a look at the menus, alright?" You walked away with another big smile and as you turned, it immediately dropped.

You didn't necessarily hate Kooks; well, not to the extent of JJ or Pope. You could honestly stand them; sure, they made you uncomfortably sometimes but at least at the end of it, you have a good tip.

"Take a look at those menus, more like take a look at that ass!" The boy had said and Kelce and other one let out another laugh. Rafe couldn't stand it.

The jokes weren't funny and were low blows, they were some of the worst jokes he'd heard in months. It was stupid. Rafe held in all his anger because he didn't want to cause a scene, especially here or in front of you.

He's been trying to make a move on you for months; giving extra tips, complimenting you, asking if you could help with the golf cart. And now all his hard was going down the drain because you're going to think he's shallow and idiotic because of his 'friends.'

The only person he actually liked right now was Topper and that's saying a lot. He felt bad for you as well. Rafe didn't really feel empathetic towards anyone but seeing you put on a fake smile and nod off the joke like it was nothing reminded him of someone.

"God what I would do to take her to bed." One of the boys sighed as the others agreed. Rafe bit his tongue as they continued.

"I'm sure she would," Kelce took a drink of his water. "If you tipped her enough."

"You're right, she's a Pogue. I'm sure she needs the money."

Rafe was disgusted. Is this really what they thought about? "Shut the fuck up, dude. That's not funny."

The table went quiet as the guy turned to Rafe. "What the fuck is your problem man, you've been in a bitch mood ever since we came in here. I mean, come on, it's a fucking joke."

"A joke? You call that a fucking joke?" Rafe started raising his voice. "You're the fucking joke here, dude. Who the fuck says that shit? Especially while she's literally over there."

Topper nodded. "Yeah, have some decency. Y/N's actually so sweet."

The two boys looked at each other before laughing. "Oh I see what's goin on here. You two are acting like you're all above this, above us, so she can see how gentleman-ly you are and let you tag team her, huh?"

"Not everything is about sex, dude. Maybe we actually think she's nice and a human being that deserves a little respect. She's, y'know, a living breathing human with thoughts in case you've forgot." Rafe was seeing red and he was about to throw a punch before Topper kicked his leg.

"What, dude? It's true." Rafe looked at Topper before he sighed.

"Let's just finish the drinks and then we can go, alright?" Topper was trying to calm things down and Rafe took a deep breath before nodding.

You had come back with all the drinks on a platter. You felt the shift in energy, it was a lot more tense now than it was. "Alright, have you guys figured out what you guys wanted to eat?"

You passed out the drinks.

"That would be it, can you uh, get the check please?" Rafe's voice was much softer and politer than usual and you nodded. You appreciated the manners; you don't see a lot of that in the country club.

"Okay, sure. I will be right back with the check." You smiled at him and his cheeks turned a little red as he turned away. Topper noticed this and was a little confused.

Rafe had never mentioned liking you in anyway. He was now wondering if he had just started liking you or if this was something that's been happening for a while now.

"Okay, Kelce, how much would you pay me if I went up to her and asked her out on a date?"

"Nothing, dude. You'll be getting the award, why would I have to pay?" Kelce responded, drinking a little of his drink.

Rafe flared his nostrils as he kept in his anger once again. He didn't want to blow up again, people were already staring.

"Dude, you won't do it." The other guy laughed. "You're a fuckin pussy."

"There's no way she'll say yes." Kelce added.

The other guy rolled his eyes, "How much do you wanna bet?"

Kelce laughed, "100$ easy, dude."

He laughed, "Okay, I'll be a 100$ richer."

"You're definitely going to lose that 100, man."

You came back and put the check down with a small smile. "Is that all boys?"

"Yes." Rafe quickly said, taking the check and putting his card in. The others exchanged looks. Before you could away, the boy had started to say something.

"Y/N, right?" He looked at your nametag then to your low V-cut shirt before looking back at your face. "I was wondering if you could let me take you out later this week, maybe... Saturday? I'm havin a big party, I'd just love for you to come."

Rafe was angry he felt like his eyes were going to bulge out of his eyelids as he stared daggers at the guy.

You stood there, a bit shocked. There were a few seconds before you could respond. "I would love to. But uh, I'm already dating someone."

"Really?" Topper looked confused, you'd never mentioned one. You glared down at him before smiling and nodding. Rafe felt like his world had come crashing down. You had a boyfriend?

"Yup, JJ. Two months!" You said dramatically. "Sorry... About that."

The guy looked pissed, turning away from you. "You weren't even that pretty anyway." He muttered.

Your eyes widened and immediately took that as your que to leave, walking away. "Okay.."

Rafe quickly got up after you, taking out his wallet and taking out a 20$, handing it to you.

Your eyes had widened at how much he was tipping. "Whoa, are you sure?"

"Very. My friends were douches to you and I apologize. I don't even know the other two dudes' names."

You laughed, the first real genuine laugh you've had all day. It was a like breathe of fresh air. "Me neither, but I can't take this, that's so much." You pushed away the money.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can." He put it in the pocket in your shirt before sighing. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

He walked away to the rest of his friends and you smiled at the nice gesture. Rafe, despite the opinion of your friends, was actually kinda sweet. I mean, he was sure as hell better than the rest of his friends (minus Topper).

"Dude, that took you long enough." You heard one of them groan.

"Shut up." You heard Rafe reply as you smiled to yourself. You immediately shook away the smile, sighing. Why was the Kook prince making you smile? Wow, you were in desperate need of a bath and a good meal, 8 hour shifts aren't your strong suit.

You were surprised and confused at Topper's words.

"Yeah, he was like, genuinely pissed. I've never seen him that mad and that's saying a lot."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, "Wait, wait. So he defended me?"

Topper looked at you like it was the most obvious thing of all. "That's what I've been saying for the last half an hour, have you been listening?"

You rolled your eyes at Topper's unnecessary sassiness, "Yes, Top, it's just been really hard to process."

"What's hard about it? Rafe has literally never had a soft spot for anyone except Wheeizie, like ever. And he's rich. He can spoil you and you're literally set for life-"

"Whoa, okay." You started laughing. "Let's not go that far. I am not marrying Rafe Cameron." ok girl...

"Okay but think about it." He smiled. "We could be like kinda related. If Sarah marries me... or if Rafe considers me a best friend, I could be like your brother-in-law."

You started laughing harder, "Sarah's not marrying you."

He didn't look too amused by that. "Okay, shut up, seriously. Rafe likes you."

The more you imagined his face and his smile, his dad outfits and the way he literally is an asshole to everyone except you, the more hot your face felt.

Topper smiled as he playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh. "He's cute."

"Cute? Don't call say that to his face, he'll get all flustered and then roll his eyes."

You already imagine his face, making you laugh a little harder. "Okay, okay. If... if I were to like him back, how would I approach him?"

Topper sighed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Okay, uh. Maybe just talk to him and flirt before he asks you out."

"That's so obvious-"

"He tipped you a 20 last night and you're worried you're making it obvious? Are you serious?"

You rolled your eyes. You reminded yourself to talk to Topper about his attitude problem later because it's getting a bit much. "Okay. Fine. I will."

Other than being a waitress at the country club, some days they put you on the Beverage Cart duty. It was probably because they were short in staff that day but honestly you didn't mind. You'd rather be out on the golf course then cooped up in the restaurant. You also get double the tips than you would inside.

Plus, you had a cute golf outfit on with the cute visor; you felt like a true Kook.

As you were going around, selling drinks, you saw Topper and Rafe. Of course they were going to the club today; it was nice Saturday afternoon. You face palmed yourself. You already knew what Topper was going to do.

Topper saw you as well, a smirk forming on his lips. "Rafe, uh. Remember Y/N?"

Rafe felt himself blush at the mention of you. He shook it off, nodding. "Uh, yeah. Doesn't she work here?"

"Yep. Also, I was uh, talkin to her the other day and she called you cute."

Rafe's mouth flew open as he whipped his head towards Topper. "What?"

Topper smiled. "Yeah, she called you cute. Like, really cute. She was blushing and shit."

Rafe smiled and he didn't even feel it. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, dude. And, oh! Speaking of the devil, there she is."

Rafe's eyes widened as he looked over at you and shook his head. "Oh, uh."

"I know you like her, man." Topper added as he looked to Rafe.

He shook his head. "No, I don't like her. I think she's cute."

Topper rolled his eyes. "And you blush around you, you stumble over your words, you tip her real good. You were practically on the floor kicking your feet in the air and blushing when I told you she said you were cute."

Rafe frowned at Topper's wording and before he could protest, he started pushing Rafe towards the cart. "Dude, hold on."

"Ask her out, man."

"Not now, dude, I've been plotting for months now, I can't just-"

"Dude, do you trust me?" Topper stopped and looked dead in the eyes.

"No." Rafe stated before Topper rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the fifty-th time that day.

"I don't care, now come on." He pushed Rafe towards the cart before grabbing the back of his collar, making him walk towards you. If this was any other situation, Rafe would've landed a punch to Top's jaw but he didn't wanna scare you off, so he kept his cool.

You stared the two as they approached the cart. They seemed too... normal. They were both smiling and you felt like they were plotting. You know for a fact that Topper is.

"Hey."

"Hi." They both said in union, making Rafe look back at Topper, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What can I get you two?" There was unnecessary awkwardness between the three of you as they both looked at each other.

"Two... sodas."

"Sodas?" You looked assumed. Were they 12?

Topper looked back at you. "Yes."

As you reached for the cooler, you heard Topper make an 'O' sound. You turned around.

"Oh shit. I forgot my wallet, I will be right back. Rafe, you stay here and get us the sodas, alright?"

Rafe looked back with his teeth gritted, a warning to Topper. "Topper."

He shrugged. "I'll be right back." He jogged away as you and Rafe made eye contact.

You knew that he knew what you had told Topper. And then, Rafe realized the same thing. He didn't know what Topper had told you but he just hopes it wasn't too embarrassing.

"Um. I never asked but um, what sodas do you want?"

"Ginger ale. I'm pretty Topper wants something girly like Diet Coke or something like that." Rafe mumbled the last part but you heard it. You let a horrendously loud laugh because you knew Topper would get a Diet Coke.

You suddenly felt embarrassed but it melted as you heard Rafe's small laugh as well. Butterflies filled your stomach as you heard him.

"Okay, then. One ginger ale and uh... a Diet Coke." You laughed a little after, making Rafe smile.

As you handed him the Ginger Ale, your hands touched and you felt like your face was on fire. You quickly pulled away.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe started. "Did Topper say anything about me?"

"In what way?"

"Um, I don't know... something involving you?" Rafe inquired as you smiled.

"Did he say anything to you about me?"

"Maybe." He dragged out the 'e' sound as you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

"Topper may have mentioned a few things about you. But they weren't bad. They were actually a little... admiring to hear."

He went red as he looked down at his feet. "Topper just loves to run his mouth."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He definitely loves to gossip."

He laughed at your wording. "He said some stuff about you, too. It was... admiring, too."

Your cheeks had begun to hurt from smiling this hard and it'd been only a couple minutes.

"Okay." Rafe sighed. "Are we talking about the same thing-"

"Yes, we are. I think."

Rafe was going to have to push all his pride and ego just this time. "I think that you're really pretty... and if you're not with JJ, I'd love to take you out on a date."

You had forget he heard that part. "I'm not with JJ."

"Okay, then what do you say?"

"Yes, Rafe." You smiled at him and he swore his heart did a little flip at the sound of that.

"Okay," he sounded breathless.

You then turned in your cart, looking for a piece of paper and your pen. You found one and then wrote down your number. You turned back and handed it to him. "Text me and then we can sort out the details, okay?"

"Yeah, for sure."

Topper finally walked back, wallet in hand, a big grin on his tanned face. He looked down at the paper in his hand and gave Rafe a proud pat on the back.

"Here's your Diet Coke," you held in your laugh as you gave the drink to Topper. Rafe smiled back at you as Topper opened it quickly and took a big gulp.

"Thank you. I knew you'd know my favorite drink, Y/N." He took out a 5 dollar bill and gave it to you before winking and you felt yourself cringe at Topper as you took the 5.

He and Rafe walked away and you stood there, your heart beating fast as you watched them walk away.

"What'd I say? Trust me, Rafe, I promise it'll work out and look, it worked out!"

"Yeah, for once, dude."

"Oh, shut up."

You heard their argument and laughed to yourself, getting back into your cart to drive to the next course.

3K notes · View notes

overnowsfcb · 5 months

Text

halfway out the door; fermín lópez

summary: fighting to keep a little flame alive underwater, you couldn't lose the only stable thing in your life

warnings: ANGST!!! (no good ending) mature language, mental health issues (panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress), relationship struggles, unhealthy dinamics, brief mention of smut themes. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 3,3k

note: hiii! it's me again, this time posting for my sweet boy (who is not as sweet in this story) fermín. im planning to do something with all the 1989 vault tracks x barça players. so take it as the first from the series!! also, apologies if the angst hits hard, promise to post fluff next time (its a bit of challenge for me haha) super excited about this and would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions! – venus 🫂💐🫧 p.s.: im so proud of this one tbh

He didn’t seem to have enough time for you anymore. You didn’t want to see the subtle twist, but you knew him all too well and an imperceptible change for everyone was an imposing earthquake in your world.

It was in the hours that your messages would be waiting for a response and the way he wasn’t starved to taste your lips anymore. Once, he’d find an excuse to be with you, even if only for brief minutes. He’d dash to your apartment bearing your favorite chocolate with the pretext of keeping you fed. A smile brightening and your stomach still produced the same fluttering butterflies, as the first time he kissed you underneath the moonlight at fourteen.

Back then, everything was perfect, the chill air in your faces as you ran with sand getting between your toes, you could still feel his timid hands and tender touch on your waist as you both shared a breathtaking kiss.

Your mother's words echoed - relationships don't last forever. You'd always dismissed her musings, attributing them to the bitterness stemming from your father's departure. But now, that thought held a glimmer of truth.

He was your soulmate, your solid backbone, he would hold the candles for you even if his arm grew weary, drawing strength from unimaginable places. Unseen pictures would fill his phone, capturing your candid moments, proudly setting you as his lock screen. One cherished memory stood out: a photo of you, pajama-clad, returning from a late-night ice cream run, a victorious smile on your face. You had lost a bet that day, darting to the store at 1 AM, just a street away from your building.

However, now everything appeared to be falling apart; the last picture in his gallery folder, titled 'I love, mine, mine, mine,' dated back to July, and it was already November. It contrasted the warmth of July with the chilling absence of recent affection.

Yearning for something to blame, tears seemed futile as memories replayed relentlessly, etched deep within your heart. Each sob felt like a painful reminder of the emptiness in the cold, desolate bed without him by your side. Staring at it blankly, your mind echoed the silent void, your chest tightening with every expelled breath.

Sleeping alone always felt unbearable. You reached for your phone, gazing at the lock screen displaying a snapshot of both of you in a summer pool. His outings with friends never bothered you; you accepted that he was now part of Barcelona's first team, and you weren't his priority. However, deep down, a simple goodnight message like "Sweet dreams, Pip, I love you" was all you silently longed for. Was it too much to ask from someone who claimed to love you?

The absence weighed heavily as you saw the clock strike 4 AM. This hour always induced a sense of dread, a time too late to sleep, opening the gates to wandering thoughts about life's choices. Moving to Barcelona for him might have been a hasty decision.

In Sevilla, there wasn't much to lose. Your little town overwhelmed you, especially under the weight of your living nightmare, your mother and her pursuit of perfection. That was until she married your toddler brother’s father, her focus shifted almost forgetting about your existence.

He was your escape from that suffocating environment. Initially, it felt liberating, but gradually, it became confining again. The cage expanded as you became his pillar while his name was in everyone’s mouth, especially girls who found him attractive. The weight of being his support, witnessing the attention he received, caused an internal storm. But he wouldn’t change you, right? Yet, the conflict brewed within, the tug-of-war between being the support he needed and holding onto your own identity.

You grew tired of waiting for him, tossing and turning in bed for ten minutes, before finally succumbing to sleep, cocooned in blankets to ward off the cold.

Abruptly opening your eyes, hours later, your body spasmed and your heart raced, reflecting the recent struggles with sleep these days. Observing to your side, relief washed over you; he lay there peacefully, an arm draped over your waist.

Tears welled in your eyes, a sense of loss filling your chest. Deeply in love, you realized your first waking thought was about him, albeit taking a negative turn.

What if I lose him? What if I lost the lighthouse in the middle of the sea? The uncertainty of the waters and the potential fall weighed heavily.

You wanted to get back to those times when you smiled as you landed your eyes, his body next to you, where blonde strands of messy hair framed his face and you delicately organized them while you talked and kissed every morning, staying in bed like an old married couple, feeling each other's warmth, laughter used to fill the air as he playfully booped your nose.

The weight of invisible hands squeezed your chest, making each breath a desperate gasp for air.

You didn't want to feel this anxiety; your breath became erratic. Rushing to the terrace, you breathed as if your mind forewarned a trailer of what has to be.

Struggling to regain control, your hands tightened on the cold railing, a reminder of the grounding reality you struggled to grasp.

Peering down, the height induced paralysis, intensifying your vertigo. "y/n, estás bien?" (are you okay?) His concerned voice, muffled and distant, struggled to penetrate the thick fog of panic, fear rooted you in place, afraid the floor would fall through if you made a step.

"Amor, háblame." (darling, talk to me) He approached, unsure. This panic attack was the first in years. His hand on your shoulder offered reassurance like an anchor, and you emerged from the state, meeting his gaze with your tear-stained eyes; he was still your gentleman. He was still yours.

And you needed to repeat it to stave off madness.

"Abrázame," (hug me) you whispered in a fragile plea. His arms enveloped you, he was the refuge that you needed; his familiar scent eased your breathing.

His head on yours, he sought to share his heartbeat, attempting to quell the sudden anxiety and the questions that haunted your mind. His furrowed brows hinted at his confusion, but conversation could wait. For now, it was about you. The one who never failed him; he couldn't fail you now.

When your body distended completely, he gently guided you back to bed. You clung to him, as if he could run away at any moment.

You walked to your side of the bed and he tucked you in like no one ever did before, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead, an attempt to dissipate the negativity.

“What time is it?” you inquired, looking up at him.

“Six a.m., sleep. ok?” He stroked your head, and your eyes closed under the weight of fatigue. “I love you so much.”

Days passed after the incident. He chose not to ask more about the reason behind your anxiety, he decided to act as if everything was fine.

This didn't imply he lacked concern for you, but it certainly felt that way. His demeanor towards you was still unchanged.

Feelings unaddressed hung in the air, manifesting in the cold kisses and the superficial small talk that never deepened. But, in front of everyone, you maintained the façade, accepting compliments from everyone about your seemingly perfect relationship. Only if they knew the underlying truth…

Yet, you personally sensed his gradual withdrawal, a palpable feeling of him slipping through your fingers. The strain became evident as you found yourself having to repeat things that were important to you at least three times, only for him to continually forget. Or the lackluster pecks he gave you, making you feel pathetic.

Although feeling unwanted, you weren't a resentful person, so you would religiously sit in the stands at every game and witness how he gained fan's hearts with outstanding performances on the pitch, earning the title of man of one of the champions league matches and you loved how the stadium echoed his name as he made an incredible goal.

You found joy in his happiness, doing his thing with the team of his dreams. In that moment, your mind transported into a different time – those moments when you stood by his side, offering comfort during his moments of self-doubt, back when he believed his dreams would forever be just that – dreams.

His satisfaction meant the world to you. Meeting him as he emerged from the dressing room, already showered, you couldn't help but admire how his wet hair framed his face.

A big smile adorned his face as he approached you. Opening your arms, your bodies collided as he effortlessly lifted you spinning around, creating a whirlwind of laughter that filled the air.

Once he gently set you down, you couldn't contain your pride. Cupping his cheeks, you locked eyes with him. The sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Your lips met his in a deep, meaningful kiss – one that hadn't been shared in weeks, but in that moment, it felt like the perfect reunion.

You believed this moment marked a fresh start, a much-needed rejuvenation to propel you forward. That optimistic outlook, however, disintegrated after he bid you farewell at your apartment, scrolling through TikTok on your couch, a video of his post-match interview caught your eye, and an involuntary smile crept onto your face.

His voice echoed through the video, captivating in its beauty. The interviewer's final question lingered in the air, "Who are you going to celebrate this with?" Anticipating a mention of teammates, family, and you, you were bewildered as the final words left his mouth – your name conspicuously absent.

And in that instant, the realization struck: he hadn't kept his promise to do a heart gesture to include you in his celebration either. But you decided to let it slide; perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that caused him to forget, and you were willing to overlook it.

You turned on the TV to avoid your thoughts. He no longer watched movies with you, and lately, the time you spent together felt like his phone held more allure than anything you did to catch his attention.

Without even mentioning that he wasn't fucking you lately, offering excuses of exhaustion from training or unexpectedly halting any progress when things got heated and leaving your folds wet.

But still, your mouth stayed shut, justifying every action. What you didn't know is that only one drop was missing in the glass before it overflowed – the last straw.

And eventually, the bomb exploded in the least suitable scenario. You stood by his side, his arm around your waist, desperately wanting to take his hand out and shout your feelings in front of everyone.

You didn't want to be there; you longed to be at home with your fluffy cat, who offered more comfort than Fermín did in these past months.

He was so smooth about it, engrossed in the conversation with his friends, seemingly oblivious to your distress. You whispered in his ear that you needed to get home, you weren’t feeling at your best, the strobe lights blinding you, the music pulsating louder than your heartbeat. It felt like water was reaching your nose, and you feared you'd stop breathing any moment.

Yet, you stayed, like a naive girl striving to make everything perfect for her lovely gentleman. But was still that gentleman who put you above all else?

The voices and laughter from his friends overwhelmed you. While you genuinely liked them and had never encountered an issue before, this night seemed a challenge you couldn't survive.

Your gaze darted around, hoping for a savior amid the sea of faces. But there was no one.

The air seemed to get thinner, and your chest constricted, as if locked in a slowly tight embrace. The blue dress discomforting your skin, felt like an additional layer of confinement, fantasizing to shed not only the fabric but also the skin beneath.

It was as if transparent walls were materializing around you, and this was the moment to escape a place to which you didn't belong, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece, you watched him again with pleading eyes, silently urging him to notice you.

“Fer, really, I need to go home.” You whispered, careful not to let his friends overhear. He scanned your gestures, it took him a few seconds to realize that something about you was off. You wish he had seen it earlier.

Everything he did was later than you needed it, when he did the things, you have already fixed yourself into the uncomfortable.

“Okay, let's go.” He nodded and he finally took out his hand off your waist, allowing a momentary exhale. Greetings were exchanged with his friends and you reciprocated, not wanting to show an impolite image.

Almost running, your feet propelled you outside of the disco, pushing people out of your way, without waiting for Fermín.

The doors swung shut behind you, plunging the abrupt silence upon your ears. Relief washed over you.

Closing your eyes, you took deep breaths. You needed to hold yourself like the grown woman you were and not cry. As the doors swung open and closed again, you turned to find Fermín, a frown etched across his face.

“Why didn't you wait for me?” his voice held a trace of anger, making you shiver. Realizing the street wasn't the place for such a conversation, you began walking towards the car, your feet aching from the high heels worn that night.

He hurried to catch up, the tension palpable. When the car alarm reached your ears, signaling it was unlocked, you opened the door and entered as quickly as you could.

Sitting there, attempting to adjust to sudden silence, you sensed his presence beside you.

Leaning back into the headrest, you brought your hands on your face.

He started talking again. “What's going on you?” you hesitated to face him, reluctant to confront those expressive brown eyes you memorized like the back of your hand.

As he insisted again to hear a response, anger got to your head. Without warning, you exploded, all the carefully restrained words meant to preserve your relationship pouring into a torrent.

“I'm just so damn exhausted! I feel like I'm invisible. I ache to be seen, to matter in your eyes again. I’ve been here, baring my soul, and it feels like you're a million miles away.” Your scream echoed, tears smudging your makeup. You saw the weight of his actions settling on him as his eyes reflected comprehension. A sob escaped your lips, he stood frozen. “I'm just asking you to hear me, to truly see me, and realize that I'm shattering inside because I've already fought too much alone for the person who I thought I would marry.”

He shook his head, a boy who had always the right words now seemed that they left their mind, leaving him defenseless. A hesitant pause filled the car.

Lips parted, but the sentences seemed to dissipate before finding form. It was as if they were navigating a maze of thoughts, searching for the right words to offer comfort or understanding, yet coming up empty-handed.

You got tired of waiting, you've been doing it for such a long time, you almost felt old. But if he just opened his mouth, you knew you would forgive him. “Let's go home.” You whispered, disappointed about a man who you were calling the love of your life.

He gripped the steering wheel and hit the road. Memories flooded back of the anecdotes shared in that white car, now slipping through your fingers like ash.

You pondered the absence of rain, almost expecting the heavens to open up. Wasn't it obligatory for the sky to weep when something magical began succumbing to rationalism?

When you arrived at the house, he finally was able to speak. “I'm so sorry for everything that I caused you.” He didn't know if physical contact would be well received from you. So he gripped even more the steering wheel, needing to make something with his hands, getting out the tension.

“What happened to us, Fer?” your heart-wrenching question hitting him. You were already talking in past tense.

There wasn't an exit for this situation, and he knew that. He wished he could build a time travel machine and make everything alright, fix the first mistake that led to this big snow ball that was making an avalanche. “I-I don't know.”

“I think I'm coming back to Sevilla.” you confessed, stepping out of the car. Your headache due to the tears that you've been letting out and your eyes were puffy.

As you stood outside the car, the quiet suburban street provided a bleak contrast to the storm raging within your emotions.

Fermín, still gripping the steering wheel, searched for words that could somehow mend the gashes that had formed between you two. The realization of the inevitable distance settled on him like a heavy cloak.

“I never meant for it to come to this,” he finally uttered, voice heavy with remorse. “I let things slip away, and I can't forgive myself for that.”

You, caught between the pain and the need for resolution, gazed at him with a mixture of sorrow and longing. The familiar surroundings of the neighborhood seemed to transform into a backdrop for the end of something significant. You already knew you were never coming back here.

In the distance, a streetlamp flickered, casting intermittent shadows on the pavement. You took a deep breath, the chill in the air stinging your lungs, and said, “Sometimes, we have to go back to move forward.”

His eyes, filled with regret, met yours. “Is there anything I can do to make things right?”

But the answer remained unsaid, it wouldn't be fair to give him instructions and keep rowing and carrying him while he was just there. Wounds were already too deep and your energy was drained.

You turned away, the distance between Sevilla and this quiet street growing smaller in comparison to the emotional gap that now separated you two.

The door creaked shut, marking the end of a chapter that perhaps, in the unfathomable depths of your heart you didn't want to admit that you anticipated it.

In the solitude of your apartment, surrounded by echoes of shared laughter and the ghost of a love that once flourished, you confronted the daunting task of rebuilding your world. The faint glow from the streetlamp outside cast a melancholic light on the remnants of what was.

Fermín, still parked, felt the shared years withering in the blink of an eye, something you had been discerning for a torturing amount of time. The engine hummed softly, an averse companion to the lingering regret in the air. As he drove away, the distance between your hearts seemed insurmountable.

You watched as Blaugrana, your Calico fluffy cat, approached you unawarely of everything surrounding her, you sat on the wooden floor with her purring next to you. The sparkle of her collar made you remember how your life was bound to be lived with Fermín forever, in that collar your initials were carved. You didn't want to fall back to this cruel reality.

You even commanded yourself to religion to save your relationship, months before. Night after night, you poured the essence of your yearning into prayers addressed to Aphrodite, beseeching her to weave the threads of love and passion back into your relationship, to restore its former glory. Each whispered plea carried the weight of your sincere desire, a desperate hope that the goddess of love might heed your call and guide your connection to the blissful days of yore.

But even that didn't work. And you realized the hug of what you thought would be a fresh start unraveled into the deceptive clarity of terminal lucidity. Now you would hear the eternal melancholic tone of the complete loss of vital signs. Forever.

#fermin lopez x reader #fermin lopez #fermin lopez angst #football angst #football x reader #gavi x reader #pedri x reader #fermin lopez imagine #fermin lopez x you #football imagine

262 notes · View notes

kaydenverse · 1 year

Text

paperwork

ghost x reader x soap

18+ MINORS DNI

genre: smut with a little bit of fluff

word count: little over 3k

a/n: this is my first smut in at least a year or so but i thought of this out of nowhere and cause there’s so few polyam ghostsoap fics i’m now obligated to write it. this is also my first time posting like a longer writing on here so apologies if it looks weird? also i did get a bit lazy with the end ngl, my bad. lower case is intended.

this is a gender neutral fic, they/them pronouns are used and there’s no specification of genitalia!

the readers call sign is “halo” and they’re a very skilled sniper on the task force.

content warnings: there’s plot to this? i think?, just filth for majority of this tbh, there’s a bits of tooth rotting fluff throughout tho, lots of pet names, degradation like a lot tbh but there’s praise sprinkled in, established polyam relationship, i believe in switch ghost and switch soap supremacy, edging, overstimulation, spit, begging, mask kink if you squint, all three of you are whipped BAD, uhh i think that’s all enjoy!

you would like to say you don’t know how you got here but then you’d be lying.

you know damn well that it’s both yours and johnny’s brattiness that’s got you here and you’re glad as hell it did if you’re being truthful.

first, there’s johnny.

he’s laid propped up with his back against the headboard of the bed in nothing but his blue boxer briefs and his hands gripping the sheets as he tries his absolute best not to touch you.

then there’s you who’s on your knees in between johnny’s legs that are bent in front of him and spread to make room for you. your cheek is squish against the scottish man’s lower abdomen due to simon having both your wrists pinned to your lower back and your ass propped up.

now, simon, he’s behind you staring dead into johnny’s eyes as he rolls his hips ever so slowly into yours. the teasing pace draws a pathetic whine out of you and johnny’s face flushes at the sound.

as much as johnny wants to touch you, he keeps his hands to himself and stares right back at simon through that skull mask of his as if you weren’t even there drooling like a cock-drunk idiot all over his stomach.

“i’m impressed, mctavish,” simon’s voice sounds strained as if he’s fighting off a moan. “thought you’d touch them by now.”

and johnny does want to touch you. in fact, he wants to touch you so badly he could cry. but, he’s trying to prove to simon that he can listen, that he can be good.

johnny doesn’t attempt to hide his desperation though because he knows both you and simon would see right through him. you both know him too well for him to try that.

“you gave me orders, l.t., i'm just followin’ them.” the words sound breathless leaving johnny and he can’t bring himself to care much. simon’s mask is pushed up to the bridge of his nose so johnny has a clear view of the smirk that stretches across his face.

“what a good boy, hm?” simon leans down and kisses up your spine. the kiss he gives the scar on your right shoulder you’d gotten on a mission a while back is noticeably a tad longer than the other kisses. “he’s being such a good boy, isn’t he, sweetheart?” you yelp a little when he bites down on your shoulder. a part of you wishes he’d bite hard enough to draw just a little blood.

that’d really drive you wild.

you whine, wiggling your ass desperately in an attempt you try to get him to start fucking into you again. “please, please simon, i’m so close-“

“i asked you-“ simon slid out of you completely, leaving you empty and coming down from your high yet again. “a fuckin’ question, didn’t i, doll?” now you’re the one who wants to cry.

“yes, good! he’s being so good!” you whine in frustration, looking up at johnny with the most desperate look he’s ever seen you give him. he wants to feel bad, he really does, but watching you nearly burst into tears after simon has been edging you for a full half hour has him far too excited.

“he’s being better than you at following orders right now, ” he shrugs as he lightly skates his fingers up your spine. “a first.” the taunt in his voice makes you clench around nothing.

if you weren’t so scatterbrained right now you would’ve bantered right back at him but, alas, there’s nothing going on in that pretty little head of yours except desperation and the need to cum.

johnny just now realizes how hard he’s breathing as well as the fact that if simon keeps this up he’ll come without being properly touched. it’s not helping that you’re squirming, almost frantically, right over johnny’s crotch. ghost lets out a laugh at the pleading look soap tosses him.

“now maybe if you two weren’t such brats i wouldn’t have to teach you lessons like this.”

the three of you had gathered in ghost’s office on your lunch breaks just to be around each other for a bit since each of you were busy doing your own paperwork that needed to be done. you and soap sat in the cushioned chairs facing his desk and you all munched away on your sandwiches.

soap did most of the talking and you commented here while ghost just listened. soap can never stick to one topic for long before he’s onto something else but you don’t mind, neither does ghost. you find it cute in all honesty. you’re both his favorite listeners.

you would’ve lost track of time while intensely listening to soap ramble on if ghost hadn’t glanced at the tiny clock in the corner of his computer screen.

“apologies on interrupting your rant of your least favorite lunch meats,” no one else but you and soap could’ve caught the playfulness hidden beneath ghost’s deadpan sounding words. “but it is time for you two to return to your jobs and not bother me anymore.”

soap groans and you slouch in your chair, also making a mental note of johnny’s passionate dislike for processed ham. “paperwork is boring though, ghost.” you give a poor attempt of pouting at him. “and you love when we bother you.” a true statement.

“boring or not you still have to do it, halo.” ghost leans back in his chair and hums, tugging his mask back down over the lower half of his face. he rests his arm back on the armrest, mirroring his other arm, and his legs are slightly spread.

what a sight.

you don’t even have to look over at soap to know his thinking the exact same thing. for a split second, both of you also think how you’ve scored one of the hottest men alive.

like, seriously.

wow.

“and same applies to you too, soap.” ghost says before the scot could say anything. the small tilt of ghost’s head simply makes him all the more attractive.

soap groans again but still stands up and stretches a little. “i guess we should get going and do our work.” he laughs softly and you stand up as well. “it would be nicer to be doing you though.” he winks at the lieutenant.

the joke is so corny you can’t help but laugh a little. but still, he’s speaking both of your truths.

“get going and i’ll consider letting you do so later.” ghost is quick to reply but he keeps his expression unreadable. he watches both sets of his partners eyes light up and shakes his head. “always need to be rewarded, can’t go a day without it.” he tuts loudly so you both hear his teasing and his shake is head.

“i will have it finished and on your desk within an hour, sir.” soap grins, leaning across the desk to press a kiss over ghost’s mask where his mouth would be. you follow suit and ghost’s heart nearly bursts at the gesture. he won’t ever tell either of you that

but he doesn’t need to, you both know already. you know him.

“i’ll have mine in 45.” you challenge and grin. soap rolls his eyes as he turns towards you, cupping your face in one hand.

“oh, you’re on.” soap smirks at you before kissing you gently. you don’t let him pull back, though. when he does try to pull back you chase after his lips and kiss him again. this only happens twice before the soft whine you let out helps soap catch onto your silly little plan.

he keeps his lips on yours and cups your other cheek while your hands go to his hips, thumbs digging into them just the way he likes. you let him nudge you backwards so you’re sat on the edge of ghost’s desk with your back to the masked man.

you both just go at it, for lack of better words.

ghost just watches. he makes no sounds and keeps his reaction hidden exceptionally well. the only time he moves is to catch the pencil holder you nearly knock over when shoving a hand onto the desk to keep soap from knocking you over with the force of his kisses.

ghost straights the pencil holder, slotting a pen that fell out of the container back in before he finally speaks. “paperwork. get on it. now.”

you two fly apart like you’ve been caught, like ghost hadn’t just be sitting directly behind his very misbehaved partners kissing intensely for a full three minutes.

“yes, sir.”

“i’m on it, l.t.”

“what? now you wanna give me puppy eyes and beg? now you feel sorry for what you started?” the stare simon gives johnny almost makes the scot nearly moan, “or maybe i should place the blame on you?” he leans back down and rests his chin on your shoulder, “i mean,” his voice drops an octave or two as he plants a kiss behind your ear. “you are the one who started up that little stunt. johnny was just being a good boy and following along.”

now, both you and johnny know the ‘no one is allowed to cum until i say’ rule is in place at the moment but my god, was simon making it incredibly difficult just from his words alone. degradation with just the lightest sprinkle of praise gets you and soap ecstatic and simon takes full advantage of that constantly.

“ooh you’re so worked up, si. glad my plan worked.” you’ve finally pieced enough of your brain back together to smart mouth again.

johnny almost shakes his head at you, almost tells you ‘now we’re really in for it.’ but simon is quick to manhandle you onto your back and latch a hand around your throat. johnny whines from the pressure of your back against his clothed, leaking cock and you whine from the pressure simon puts on your throat. a shameless moan rips from you when simon gives a little squeeze.

simon leans in close to your face, giving you a stare that could kill. “were you just that desperate for me to fuck you that you have to go around plotting stupid little fuckin’ schemes for it to happen, hm? need me to fuck you as a reward for everything? must want me to if you had to come up with a plan to make sure it’d happen.”

and just like that, you’re gone again. every single thought being replaced by one’s of simon and johnny, nothing more.

your whole body jerks when simon’s free hand reaches back down between your legs and he uses his middle and ring finger to slowly trace over your hole, both to tease you and as a subtle way of checking that you’ve still got enough wetness to take him again. of course you’d still have enough though, he’s got you so worked up you’re shaking and johnny has tears of desperation starting to prick at his eyes.

“open.” the hand around your throat moves up and his thumb taps your lips gently. you obliged and simon leans down and spits directly into your mouth. you swallow with no hesitation.

johnny’s hips immediately buck up against your back at the sight, “fucks sake.” he breathes out and drops his head back to look at the ceiling.

“eyes on me, sargent.” simon almost growls. johnny hesitates for a second before looking back down at the two of you. it takes everything in john “soap” mctavish's body to not cum on the spot.

ghost has let you sit up a little and leave various hickies and bite marks along his chest. he’s let his guard down just a little and johnny already knows what he’s gonna ask. “i’m good.” he breathes.

“same.” you murmur as you bite down on that spot on simon’s neck that always makes him groan. with that, as quick as the soft moment came, it’s gone again and simon presses two fingers into you. “simon!” you’re caught off guard and whine.

“they’re so fuckin’ wet.” simon hums to johnny who smiles a little. you love it when they talk about you like you’re not even there.

“i bet,” johnny almost reaches out to pet the top of your head but immediately stops upon the warning look simon gives him. it takes simon all but two minutes before you’re whining and bucking your hips the way you do just before you cum.

this time, a tear or two does slide down your face when simon’s fingers leave you empty again. you want to beg, to plead with the lieutenant but all you do is pant and shake. “so pretty.” simon pats your right cheek twice, making sure to smear some of your wetness on your cheek. johnny chuckles when you toss simon a very annoyed glare.

“please.” you manage. the wrecked tone you say it in actually works and simon sits up, tugging you a tad closer to him, so your upper back is pressed right against johnny’s bulge. the movement makes johnny groan again but simon ignores him. why does johnny find simon ignoring him right now so hot?

“since you asked so nicely, darling,” simon hums, finally sliding himself back into you. johnny isn’t sure if he’d rather be in your position or simon’s as he watches simon pick up the pace, fucking into you fast and hard.

you’re falling apart and falling apart fast. you’re moaning, whining, whimpering, just the full show. you should be embarrassed at how quickly you approach your release (four minutes. still better than johnny’s record of about 25 seconds one time.) but it’s been ripped away from you so many times in the past 45 minutes you don’t care in the slightest. when simon shifts his angle just right and nudges into that perfect spot, you know you’re done for.

“can i,” you pant, clawing at simon’s bicep and squirming back against johnny who looks like he’s about to lose it. “please, sir.”

now you knew, you knew, what that title does to him in moments like this. it’s near impossible for him to not want to give you everything and more when you pathetically beg him like that.

“fuck, yes, go ahead let go for me.”

simon barely gets all the words out before you’re arching up into him and your orgasm hits you like a fucking bus. you’re swearing up a storm, simon and johnny’s names mixed in as well.

behind you, johnny is not-so-subtly rutting against your upper-back. simon glares up at johnny for breaking his order to stay but that look, that glare, that’s what has johnny smacking face first into his high only moments after yours. simon should’ve known that would happen.

johnny’s hands fly into your hair and he grabs which punches a high pitched whimper from your chest.

simon just knows he’s going to think about this exact moment frequently for the rest of his life.

simon stills his hips and sits up back on his haunches he watches you make a mess around his cock and johnny make a mess of his briefs behind you.

“where’s my thank you, darling?” simon hums as he slowly drags his hands up your sides. the touch is overwhelming but a good kind of overwhelming.

“th- oh god,” you breathe out when he pinches one of your nipples. “thank you.” you feel boneless under simon as he hums happily at your response. you can feel johnny panting behind you as well as the sticky wetness of his release on your upper back.

“johnny boy lost.” you giggle lightly after a minute or two of catching your breath and putting your brain back together. you tilted your head back to look up at said johnny boy behind you. he’s got a blush that’s spreading down to his shoulder making the freckles that dot them stick out even more.

johnny is staring up at the ceiling and his entire body is buzzing. “uh-huh,” is all he can think to say to which you and simon smile at. you swear your heart skips a beat when you catch a glimpse of simon’s dimples.

simon leans over you and presses a kiss onto the center of johnny’s chest. “hey, i wanna kiss him.” you grumbled and nudged at simon to get off (and out) of you. simon plants a quick kiss on your lips before completing your request. you flip over and you’re on johnny in a second, the both of you smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths.

simon just contently watches for a few moments before tapping your hip. “oi, my turn.” he doesn’t mean for that to come out so playful, wanting to keep up the tough guy act right now, but he can’t help it. you roll onto your side next to johnny. johnny waves simon over and pats his thighs. simon shuffles forward and straddles the other man’s hips.

johnny looks so small with simon seated in his lap despite them being near the same height. the scottish man has to tilt his head up to get a proper look at his boyfriend’s partially masked face.

“you’re so pretty, baby.” johnny’s accent sounds thick as he presses a kiss to simon’s throat. simon only hums, a little worried that if he spoke he’d sound whiny. “take care of me and our lovely darling so well.” he wraps his arms around the lieutenant and plants more kisses around his collarbone.

you watch that switch in simon’s mind flip and he’s suddenly all mush in johnny’s hold, a soft whine slipping from his lips when johnny bites over one of the hickies you had left on him.

only you and johnny know how to flip that switch.

simon is only ever this vulnerable and relaxed around you two. his two. soap and halo, johnny and you. you’re the only two who can just make him melt on command. just piece the right words together in that gentle tone of either of yours and he’s done for, down for the count. he’s just ready to do anything either of you ask. that makes you smile as you watch them.

simon leans down and kisses johnny before any further praises are said. johnny immediately rocks his hips into simon’s and they moan into each others mouths. they start off a little slow but it doesn’t take long before they’re both desperate and rutting against each other like their lives depend on it.

you’re perfectly content just watching them fall apart against each other, soft groans and hushed praises filling the room.

you love it.

you love them.

crazy that your distressing, life-risking job has led you to the most perfect people you could’ve ever imagined.

you’re pulled back out of your thoughts when simon lets out the prettiest whine as he cums onto johnny’s stomach and his own. johnny had gotten riled up again and was shaking through his second orgasm.

you roll over to the bedside dresser and fetch a washcloth out of the drawer. johnny takes it and gently wiped off the both of them and tries to wipe you off but with a 6’4” soldier dramatically slumped against him in his lap it’s not the easiest.

“such a baby.” you snort at simon and take the towel from him instead so you can wipe yourself down. simon, affectionally, flashes his middle finger at you before he finally rolls off of johnny and squishes himself between the two of you.

the three of you lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, basking in each other’s presence and getting comfortable cuddled together. you’re the first to speak again, “you know, i don’t think i deserved to be edged that long.” you flip onto your stomach as you look over at them.

“oh you’ve handled longer, don’t complain.” simon teases and he’s right. just a month or so ago johnny had you in tears after a full hour of denial and simon just watched from a seat in the corner of the room. johnny laughs in agreement.

“and you love it so now you really can’t complain.” johnny grins when you flip him off. simon snorts and tugs his mask all the way back down.

“are you not hot right now, mate?” soap taps the cheek of ghosts mask.

“i am.”

“then why didn’t you take it off?”

“cause you’ve both got a thing for it, especially you, sweetheart.” ghost nods towards you. well…he’s got you both there.

“well, you’ve got a thing for my accent.” johnny defends himself.

“and my hands.” you hum, drumming your fingers on simon’s bare chest. simon doesn’t bother to defend himself because you’re both right.

you prop yourself up on your elbows. “hey, how come he got off so easy?” you huff. johnny had only been instructed to keep his hands to himself and stay still. he ended up breaking both those rules in the end

“cause he turned his papers in at the time he promised. one hour. you took, two hours to finish yours.”

“i got distracted!”

“distracted by what exactly?”

“…thinking about you and johnny…”

“typical.”

2K notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

your sammy content has me screaming, blushing, giggling and kicking my legs!!! idk if you write for this stuff, but would you mind writing what yandere sammy, gun and goo would be like? have a wonderful day <3 - 🌺anon

Fanon Sammy has me reacting exactly the same tbh! TYSM for reading and the ask 🌺🌺🌺🌺❤️

Oof. Toxic, abusive relationships? (And this is also a trigger warning). I haven't made this as dark as it could be but here we go...

Lookism Yanderes: Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo

A snippet into their toxicity

Gun Park

"How was school?"

You land on the sofa with a crash next to Gun.

Ugh. School was... school. Albeit a little better this week than it has been. The worst of your project work is over and that idiot in your class hasn't been around.

"Is that classmate still giving you trouble?"

"Huh? Oh. I haven't seen him this week."

"Hmm. Interesting."

Something about the way Gun says that draws your attention.

Why is he smiling? Is he happy that you're happy or-

Come to think of it. You haven't seen him since you last mentioned him bullying you to Gun.

... Everyone who causes you trouble has a habit of going 'missing'.

There was the group of girls who harassed you. Some drunken idiot who catcalled. This classmate who started picking on you. And actually, that boy you made friends with a few months back and Gun had disapproved when you told him.

The dots start to connect.

You startle back to the present and notice Gun staring intently at you. He knows that you know.

"Don't be scared, Y/N. I'm only doing this to protect you."

You know your boyfriend is violent, but you never thought-

"Are they..." you can't bring yourself to say the word 'dead'. The idea that Gun killed these people terrifies you.

"Not dead. They just aren't here anymore." Gun notices the shock written all over your face. He continues, "Y/N, haven't I made your life so much easier?"

And that is true. To an extent. But-

"You understand I would never hurt you?"

Wouldn't he? You suppose he has never laid a hand on you. You nod.

"You trust me?"

That, you do. He has never given you reason to doubt him. You nod again.

"Say the words."

"I trust you..."

"And?"

"It's for my own good." you say, even as the insidious grip of fear starts to wind its way around your neck.

Goo Kim

The bell to the cafe jingles, signalling a new patron. You put on your peppiest customer service smile.

Oh. Your face falls when you see who it is.

"You're here again?"

Goo just grins, taking his usual spot right by the counter. Right by you. "Yes my little sweetpea. Just visiting my love at work!"

It started as a nice gesture, Goo occasionally popping in. And if he wasn't here then he would be constantly texting you.

(He sulked for a week straight when you told him you weren't allowed your phone when you're working. Somehow you felt personally responsible for this despite it being a work policy.)

His quick coffee breaks turned into a few hours of lingering then eventually staying during your entire work schedule.

It is too much. Far too much.

"Goo... You know I got told off last time when you stayed for my whole shift."

"Is your manager still giving you a hard time!" Your boyfriend looks at you with the saddest puppy eyes and a pout. Goddamn it. Why are you the one feeling guilty.

You press on with what you want to say anyhow, "... Don't you think you being here all the time is a little inappropriate?"

Not just a little - a lot, you think. And not inappropriate - completely suffocating. But you are careful with your words.

"No! How could you think that..." The sulk intensifies and Goo looks genuinely upset. Ah shit. You're about to apologise- "Besides, I think your new boss would be fine with this."

In a blink of an eye, the mood changes. Goo looks happy. Manic, almost.

You narrow your eyes at him. What is he up to. "How do you know?"

"Let's just say I know him very personally."

"Who is it?"

"Your beloved - me! I bought this little cafe! Now I can see you all day every day!"

Seriously? This is ridiculous.

Your eyes quickly dart towards the other customers and your coworkers. You can't make a scene and frankly, you don't have the energy for this fight.

Nor do you want to put up with a week straight of tantrums until you inevitably suck it up and apologise.

Instead, you attempt your customer service smile again.

You hope it works.

Samuel Seo

Entering the living room, you are immediately greeted by Samuel glaring at you.

"Where have you been?"

"Didn't you see my text?" You are sure you texted him before you left, telling him not to wait for you for dinner.

"I must have missed it." His expression doesn't change. "Where did you go?"

It was nothing special. You just had a catch up with a few classmates over a meal. Your eyes glance at the clock. It's not even 8pm.

"Who were you with?"

You explain (and you did mention if he had just checked his phone), but Samuel makes you list out every person.

"There were guys there?"

You frown at him. Well, yes but it's not like it wasn't a group-

"Am I not enough for you?"

The question surprises you but you read between the lines. You know Samuel has his insecurity issues, and you have been trying to work through them with him. Surely, this should have been fine.

"Of course you are," You try to defuse the situation, yet the doubt creeps in that you could have been more considerate.

"I would be more comfortable if you asked first." Samuel approaches you, angry and disappointed. "How am I supposed to concentrate on work if I don't know where you are?"

"But I did text-"

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

You shake your head.

"Everything I've worked for?" Samuel looms over you, looking furious.

You shake your head again.

"Then why is it too much to ask you to ask me first before you wander off?"

Your eyes start to well up with tears.

"Don't be like that." Immediately the anger is gone, replaced by concern, "I'm only worried about you."

His hand reaches out to stroke your cheek, and you lean into it - does this mean that the worst of the storm seems to be over?

"You know I love you, right?"

Of course. It's obvious that Samuel loves you. And you love him too. He's only doing this for your sake.

"I know. Sorry for making you worry."

372 notes · View notes

class-of-86 · 2 years

Text

byler headcanons <3

because i love these two omg

• when mike spends the night, he always INSISTS on sharing the bed with will because

a) the bed is more comfortable

b) no way in hell is will sleeping on the floor on mike’s watch

• will gave mike his flannel

• mike gave will his hellfire shirt

• mike is pretty touchy. he always finds an excuse for hugs, kisses, and anything small

• will is big spoon. always.

• unless he’s had a nightmare or is upset

• will loves painting & drawing mike. like even when he’s in class & doodling, he always draws mike. 90% of the time he doesn’t even mean to, it just happens.

• their first kiss was..awkward to say the least.

• mike has never kissed a guy before that and will hasn’t kissed..anyone really.

• well, will has kissed a few people but he doesn’t count them. (mainly just stuff from middle school dances)

• mike was insanely nervous and kept awkwardly laughing, his hands were really sweaty and he kept apologizing for nothing

• also his face was like..super red.

• will was nervous too, so in the middle of mike apologizing and going on a rant nobody but him could understand..will just did it.

• mike just stood there, frozen tbh

• will apologized profusely

• they laughed about it later and tried again

• they’ll lay in bed together and listen to music for hours. just holding each other

• anytime they fight, mike is always the first to cave in and apologize tbh

• will stays petty for a little bit

• until mike says something cute and will can’t help but forgive him

• will refuses to admit thats he’s wrong. like..ever.

• it drives mike crazy sometimes but he loves that about will

• will will sometimes just stare at mike thinking about how handsome he is and how much he loves him

• mike helps will with his trauma a lot

• even if he doesn’t understand, he will always be there for will. always.

• he’ll sit there and let will cry on him, hold will after a nightmare, rub his back during anxiety attacks, or if will doesn’t feel like talking mike will sit there with him.

• joyce and hopper are very supportive!!

• joyce especially, i think hopper is mad that mike keeps dating his kids.

• of course hopper gave mike the big “if you hurt him..”‘ speech.

• which of course terrified mike

• but it made will laugh so hard his side was hurting when he found out.

• joyce was irritated but couldn’t help but laugh too.

• the party doesn’t care either way

• dustin made a bet with lucas about it actually

• when mike told them, all he got for a response was dustin laughing because he was right about his bet and lucas had to give him $10

• eleven thinks they’re adorable.

• but she protects will

• she also gave mike the “if you hurt him..” speech

• nancy is so supportive, she tries to help mike with boyfriend trouble

• she also helped mike get ready when he had his first real date with will.

• to make up for the lack of letters, mike always writes will love letters and sneaks them into his sketchbook.

• and they’re all signed “love, mike”

• will keeps all of them in a box.

• mike loves will

• and will loves mike.

#mike wheeler #will byers #mike wheeler headcanons #mike wheeler fic #will byers headcanons #will byers fic #byler season 4 #byler is canon #byler fic #byler headcanon #byler is endgame #byler rights #will byers deserves better #mike wheeler loves will byers #will byers loves mike wheeler

555 notes · View notes

the-caged-jester · 1 month

Note

One-shot of Nikolai meeting Fyodor but if they were like teens

I hope this is to your liking, I kinda just winged it tbh

putting the edit here: it’s on ao3 now

——————

It was snowing again. It snows a lot. But that doesn’t stop Nikolai from going outside to climb the tree that has his favorite birds nesting there. The pine tree offered some shelter against the winds that were blowing in, biting at his skin. He’s been sitting there for a few hours now, his face numb at this point as he swings his legs that are dangling from the branch he’s perched on. Nikolai has always loved birds, and he was lucky enough to stumble upon this small family of birds a week ago. He likes to come sit and watch the birds, like he’s doing now, absent-mindedly fiddling the cross necklace his mother had given him for his first birthday.

At some point, he hears the crunching of snow, but he can’t really see very well past the snow covered pine tree he’s inside. Eventually, a black haired boy comes into view and sits right at the base of the tree, seemingly unaware of Nikolai. Nikolai recognizes the boy, Fyodor, as one of his classmates from school.

Nikolai decides to climb down and greet him, having always been intrigued in the boy since he first saw him. Nikolai was a little careless though and accidentally kicked some snow on his way down, which landed on top of Fyodor. Fyodor let out a startled sound and jumped a bit as Nikolai giggled, amused. Fyodor looked up at him, glaring as hard as he could and scowling slightly once he recognized his perpetrator as the weird kid from school.

Nikolai lands in front of Fyodor with a crunch, the snow going half way up his calves. He stretches out a hand as he beams down at Fyodor. “Hello! I’m Nikolai! Nikolai Gogol! And your Fyodor, yes?”

Fyodor doesn’t move to accept his handshake, so Nikolai pulls his hand back, instead plopping down next to Fyodor in the snow. “So, what’re you reading?” He asks as he leans over Fyodor’s shoulder. Fyodor stays silent for a bit before responding, “I’m reading the Bible.”

Nikolai always had an odd, dull ache in his body whenever religion was involved. This time is no different. He just smiles and nods as he watches Fyodor read. After a few minutes Fyodor sighs and closes his book, turning to look at Nikolai. “Do you need something or are you just going to sit and watch?” Fyodor’s voice is monotone, but there’s a hint of annoyance.

Fyodor really looks at Nikolai for once, and wow. He’s a little caught off guard when the first thing that comes to his mind is “pretty.” Nikolai’s skin was extremely pale and looked smooth. His lips were a nice rosy color, a little chapped, but still soft looking. His cheeks were very red from the cold, along with the tip of his nose. He had beautiful heterochromia eyes, one a piercing grey-blue, the other a dazzling green. He had long, shiny, white hair held back in a loose braid that was being blown in the wind. He looked perfect.

Fyodor frowned at his thoughts. His parents would kill him if he found out he thought another boy was pretty. It was gross and unnatural. Nikolai really was weird, making him feel such a way. He’ll make sure he prays a little longer tonight, in the hopes God will forgive him for his horrific thoughts.

“Now you’re staring! How could you accuse me of staring when you are too!” Nikolai pouted, though mostly just teasing. Fyodor gives him an unimpressed look as he responds, “I wasn’t staring, I was simply observing.” Nikolai crosses his arms as he retorts, “That’s literally staring!” Fyodor just hums in response.

After a beat of silence, Nikolai starts to poke at his arm. Fyodor pays him no mind as he sits there, drawing random shapes in the snow. “God, you’re boring!” Nikolai whines. Fyodor presses his lips into a thin line as he looks back at Nikolai. “You shouldn’t say His name in vain,” is what he decides to respond with. Nikolai just sighs before standing up and twirling around to face Fyodor, smiling at him as he says, “Okay, I want say God’s name in vain as long as you promise to be my friend!”

Fyodor is not amused. He contemplates it though. He’d pretend to be the town weirdo’s friend and in return, Nikolai would respect God. If he didn’t, it would just be another worthless sinner doomed to Hell. Fyodor normally wouldn’t care, but for some reason, he feels inclined to accept. “Very well,” he finally responds.

Nikolai is ecstatic. A new friend! Or, more accurately, his first friend! He quickly pulls Fyodor up, who was a bit startled, and starts to drag him as he walks back towards the town. “Well then, come on Fedya, friends gotta get to know each other you know? So let’s go get something to eat and talk over lunch!” Nikolai beams as he continues to drag Fyodor.

Fyodor smiles lightly. He, surprisingly, doesn’t mind the nickname. Nikolai isn’t as bad as everyone says, if anything he’s just misunderstood. Maybe, just this once, he will indulge in another human being.

——————

also cus I have no idea if you’re this person or not, I’m gonna tag em. Uhh I don’t think I used any of your headcanons? But thought you’d appreciate being tagged still @fedya-the-rat-god

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #fanfic #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyolai #fyolai fanfic #should i put this on ao3 as a one shot?

19 notes · View notes

loversj0y · 1 year

Text

'tis the damn season

chapter two - you could call me babe for the weekend

alcohol-induced decisions snowball into conversations about the future, family tensions, poetry, and a serious discussion on the bitchiness of orca whales.

'tis the damn season masterlist

pairing: cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader

this part is primarily fluff! im keeping the list of tws in each part just for the sake of clarity

trigger warnings: reader's mother is abusive (not physically) and father is emotionally absent. this will be talked about in extensive detail. alcohol, some suggestive themes, and a lot of anxiety, slut-shaming

author's note: part two baby lets fcking go!!!! this part is insanely sweet but also there are some.... tenser moments due to families being shit tbh (it also becomes abundantly clear here why i consider dialogue my strong suit and not anything else bc i am Not the best at being Descriptive! ao3 version!

word count: 9.6k

You and Wilbur spent the next four days developing a routine. It always started with butting heads with your family and running to Wilbur’s for solace. You two would spend hours talking before falling asleep together on his bed. In the morning, you would walk back to your house, and the cycle would repeat. On the fifth day of this routine, drinks got involved.

“You brought a whole bottle of vodka?” Wilbur deadpanned.

“Yep,” you replied, “I’m not sure about you, but I’d like to get at least mostly drunk.”

He shrugged, “Can’t say I’m doing anything tomorrow that would stop me from wanting to. Plus, we haven’t drank together in years. Got to carry on a tradition.” You mindlessly wondered if he was thinking of the same night you were. “I’ll grab some cups. Want to drink it straight or with a mixer?”

“Both. Start with two shots and then maybe cranberry juice mixer?”

He nodded, “Alright, to the kitchen we go.”

You both walked to the kitchen, and he grabbed two shot glasses. You poured one into each, setting the bottle down and grabbing your shot.

“Ready?”

He picked his shot up and nodded, the both of you throwing your heads back in moments to take the first one. You coughed a bit after swallowing it. You weren’t really used to drinking much anymore, but from the looks of it, neither was Wilbur. He coughed as well, groaning lightly. After you recovered, you started pouring the second shots, and the cycle repeats once more.

“Fucking hell, man, I forgot how annoying shots are,” you chuckled.

He laughed, “Yeah, though, to be fair, we completely forgot a chaser.”

You shrugged, “True, but we have to stay true to our traditions.”

“Good point,” he grabbed the cranberry juice from the fridge, pouring it into two empty glasses while you washed the shot glasses. He added the ice and the vodka, grabbing both cups when he was done. We headed upstairs, sitting on his bed and putting some random show on the TV.

“Man, this really does feel like school all over again,” he laughed.

“You know what they say, ‘when in Rome’,” you chuckled.

“I suppose,” he hummed, both of you taking sips of your drinks.

After a moment, you leaned against him wordlessly. He gave you a confused look and you just shrugged.

“You know,” you started, “for as shit as it is, being with my parents and all, I’m glad I showed up this year.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?” He snickered.

You looked up at him, holding your tongue. You were thankful for the vodka giving you an excuse for the redness on your cheeks, but you knew it wasn’t the drinks making you notice just how gorgeous he looked right now. His hair was tousled, probably from the amount of times he would adjust his hair while he spoke. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, drawing attention to the carefully crafted veins that followed from his hands up his arms. There was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or your staring that made him blush. You were only tipsy, but he made you feel completely intoxicated.

In a moment of boldness, you leaned up and kissed his cheek.“Because if I didn’t, I’d never have seen a certain handsome guy again. And even worse, I never would’ve gotten to do that.”

Almost immediately, he blushed furiously, “You get a drop of alcohol in you and get all kissy, huh?”

You shrugged, and the sober part of your brain was yelling at you to shut up before you did something stupid. “Only with you.”

His breath hitched, obviously unsure of what to say. His mind was in overload. The person he loves is actively flirting it seems, and he had no clue what to do. He thought about kissing you every day since that first kiss. Truthfully, he thought about it every day since you’d met. In the past, it was only the alcohol that gave him courage to ask. Now, his courage lays less in the alcohol and more in the fact that you were flirting with him, and he knew there would not likely be another chance like this. He turned to face you, gently reaching down to hold your hand.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

You nodded. He cautiously pulled you forward, and after a moment of breathlessness, pining, and anticipation, you closed the gap. The entire world came to a stop as your lips pressed together. The only thing you could focus on was his lips on yours, shaky hands pulling each other closer, and the intense beating of your heart.

One kiss turned to two, which then turned to three, which then turned to cups on nightstands, a forgotten show, and a lost count of how many kisses had been shared. You had no clue how much time had passed, the only indication of time was the “Are you still watching?” screen proudly displayed on the TV, bathing you and Wilbur in muted light. You pulled away first, completely breathless and admiring the goofy smile on his face as he panted lightly. He reached a hand up, gently brushing his thumb over a small hickey he’d left near your collarbone.

“Sorry,” he hummed, “got a bit enthusiastic.”

"You're not sorry. I can see how proud you look," You snorted, "But I don’t mind, I just may need to steal one of your jumpers to make up for it.”

He tapped his chin in contemplation, “I like the terms of that deal.” He stood, grabbing a light blue jumper from his closet and handing it to you.

You pulled it on over your shirt before looking down at it, “Will, is this your merch?”

“It may be,” he hummed, “it looks good on you, though, babe.”

You tensed, and it seemed to be more visible than you’d intended as he asked, “Oh, I’m sorry, is that not alright? I can call you something else, or just forego the pet names thing entirely, if that- if that makes you more comfortable.”

You shook your head a bit, “No, it’s… it’s alright. Just not used to it.”

He nodded with a sweet smile, “Alright,” he sat down again, holding his hand out for yours.

You smiled, placing your hand in his. He pulled you forward until you were pressed against his chest again.

“Hi,” he chuckled.

“Hey,” you snorted in response, grinning up at him.

“You’re very pretty,” he hummed.

“So are you.”

“I have a proposition, okay, hear me out, ready?”

You nodded as he continued. “You’re pretty, and you say I’m pretty. And I think, if we’re both pretty, it’d be absolutely beautiful if we kissed some more.”

You burst out into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’d love to make something beautiful with you.”

He grinned widely, pulling you in for another kiss. At this point, the alcohol had mostly faded from both your system and his. You two were just drunk off each other, becoming a mess of lips, arms tangled around each other, hands in hair, and matching grins. You never felt more thankful for throwing caution out the wind. When you two eventually tired of kissing, you laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, keeping you as close as possible.

“We should probably talk about this,” he said, staring up at his ceiling.

You sighed, burying your face against his chest, “Probably should. Or, we could wait ‘til morning and just be all cozy and relaxed right now.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your forehead, “Alright. I am a bit tired, anyway.”

You nodded in agreement and let your eyes slip shut. Upon noticing, Wilbur started humming softly until you’d fully fallen into the arms of sleep.

The morning did not end up as peaceful as you’d hoped it would be. You did not wake up in Wilbur’s arms, but rather to the sounds of him frantically moving across his room, clearly panicking about something.

“Will?”

His head whipped over to you, “Hi, darling, good morning, or- afternoon, rather, I guess.”

“Is everything alright?”

He nodded rapidly, “Yep, yes. Yes. I just- I forgot I have an event for stream today and it starts in like five minutes.”

At that, you grabbed your phone to check the time, startled by how late it was. You were even more startled by the missed call and subsequent text from your mother, informing you of the family holiday dinner that your presence was mandatory for. You groaned, burying your face into the mattress for a moment. The idea of spending another night surrounded by your extended family felt less like a chore and more like court sentencing. Not to mention, you could sense your mother’s kindness was a fallacy she created to convince you to visit. Every moment you were around her you got the sense of her old habits refusing to die.

“I have to go, too,” You sighed, pulling yourself to the edge of the mattress.

He frowned, “Family stuff?”

You nodded.

“Well, maybe after, if you’re not too tired, we can see each other again. If not, there’s always tomorrow, so,” he walked over, gently kissing your forehead, “we got time.”

You were acutely aware of the fact that, realistically, you two did not have time. But that point was irrelevant in this context, so instead, you just nodded.

Wilbur helped you to your feet, gently wrapping his arms around you. You did the same, hugging him tightly for a moment. After a moment, you pulled away and you two stood at arm's length.

He leaned down, giving you a gentle kiss, “I’ll text you after the stream, alright? Hopefully, then I can give you some escape from your family.”

You kissed him back, chuckling, “Please, do. I’ll take all the help I could get against them.”

The walk back home was filled with uneventful dread. You had a few hours to decompress and get ready, but you just didn’t want to go to this dinner. You just wanted to be with Wilbur or to be alone. You opened your front door to see your mother standing in the foyer, and she whipped her head around once you walked in.

“My God, Y/N, I had half a mind to assume you’d died! You don’t even bother to text me when you’ve gone out, or when you’ve woken up, let alone answer my calls, I-“ She stopped herself mid-sentence, taking in your appearance with disdain: the oversized sweater, the messy hair, and the slight red on your cheeks that hadn’t quite gone away since you kissed Wilbur goodbye.

“Where were you?” She demanded, “So help me God, you’d better tell me the truth because, I will not have my child being a whore under my roof.”

You groaned knuckles going white as your hands turned to fists, “For fuck’s sake, Mum, I’m an adult, alright? I’m allowed to have my own life and do my own things, and I am in no way obligated to tell you where I’ve been.”

“Are you on drugs? Have you been going off and getting high?”

“I wish I was, Mum, because maybe then your accusations would actually fucking make sense.”

Your mother scoffed, and you watched with horrid familiarity as her facade returned. Her voice took on a new edge when she spoke, one that brought you back to being a scared child, helpless in defending yourself, “Darling, everything I do is for your sake-“

“Don’t give me that bullshit, mum. You did things for me because it was your job when I was growing up, but you haven’t done shit for me except treat me like an obligation since I left to live in London.”

She let out a sigh, clearly trying to invoke your sympathy, “Well, maybe I just miss knowing what my child is doing.”

You wouldn’t give her an ounce of your pity. “Yeah? Well, maybe if you were a better mother, you’d know.”

You left her standing there in shock as you stormed back to your room. Maybe that was mean, but you couldn’t care less. She made your life a living hell, and still apparently attempts to, and at least now you didn’t have to cower around her anymore. You could stand up for yourself. You got ready for the hellish evening that awaited you, popping on Wilbur’s stream in the meantime. Thankfully, you were able to find an outfit that covered the physical evidence of Wilbur on you, given his apparent love for hickeys. You finished getting ready and just hid out in your room for as long as you reasonably could. Wilbur texted you once his stream ended, and the two of you continued to text throughout the night, which provided a nice distraction from the politics of a family holiday dinner. Your mother refused to make eye contact with you, clearly still upset about our argument. You paid no mind to her pointed remarks and snarky comments throughout the night. The highlight of the evening, however, was your younger cousin. He was a small lad, just recently turned eight, and was frankly a major iPad kid. The joy came from passing behind him to see Wilbur on his screen. He was watching a Minecraft video by someone named Tommy, and lo and behold, there was Wilbur. You brought up Tommy to Wilbur, and he seemed fond of him, happily considering Tommy his “favorite nuisance”.

Once enough people had left – and anyone who was still there was too drunk to notice one less person – you took the opportunity to leave. Once you were out in the light snow, you trekked over to Wilbur’s, shooting him a quick text to let him know you’d be there soon. You were freezing by the time you’d arrived, having left your jacket back in your room.

He opened the door, pulling you into his arms, “Darling, you’re shaking, come here.”

You hugged him back tightly, leaning your head into his shoulder, “You don’t know how happy I am to be here with you.”

“It was that bad?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, closing your eyes, “God, I feel stupid”

“What do you mean?”

“I just- they changed! Or at least, they seemed like they did. Every phone call, they seemed pleasant. I only agreed to even come back because it- it genuinely seemed like they’d changed. But fuck man, they’re exactly the fucking same, if not worse now. I can’t even fathom how I let them get my hopes up again.”

Wilbur didn’t seem to know what to say, instead just rubbing your back soothingly. He spoke up after a moment, “‘m sorry. That sounds like shit.”

“It is,” you pulled away, “I’d rather not think about it anymore, honestly. Not much I can do about it right now, anyway.”

He nodded, “Well, c’mon. You remember how you asked about Tommy?”

You nodded.

“I may have told him about you a bit, and he’s insistent on talking to you. Granted, I told him that wouldn’t be happening, but given the bad night that you’ve had? Trust me, he can make anyone laugh, and you’ll love him, I promise.”

“Okay, sure,” you chuckled, “If you say so.”

He took your hand, pulling you upstairs. You chuckled as you followed him. You sat down in the office chair next to him, and he pulled your chair closer to his own, both popping a headphone in.

“Don’t say anything yet, alright?”

You nodded as he rang Tommy.

“Wilbur!” Tommy spoke loudly, which immediately made you cringe from the noise. Wilbur turned down the volume.

“Hey, Tommy! Listen, remember that childhood friend I told you I was reconnecting with?”

“You mean snogging? Yes.”

Wilbur blushed and you stifled a laugh. “Sure, right. You remember how I said you wouldn’t be meeting them?”

“Why, yes, Wilbur, you said it quite rudely.”

“Right, well,” he gestured for you to say hello.

“Hi, Tommy. It’s nice to meet you.”

A beat passed. Then two.

“WILL, YOU BASTARD, I-” Tommy yelled. You were thankful Wilbur had turned the volumn down. He then took a deep breath clearing his throat, “Hello, Wilbur’s friend. Wilbur, I knew you would introduce me, you prick.”

From there, you and Wilbur spoke to Tommy for a while. He and Wilbur seemed to have this odd dynamic that consisted mostly of just poking fun at each other, but you’d be dammed if you didn’t admit how funny the kid was. Even if a good amount of his comedy was just yelling at Wilbur, it did bring a smile onto your face and even made you laugh quite a bit. Wilbur was right, he did strongly improve your mood after your day.

You and Wilbur ended up laying on his bed afterward, your head on his chest. His hands carded through your hair, taking care to make sure he didn’t tug at any knots. He spoke up softly, “I know you’ve had a shit day, but we should still probably talk.”

You groaned softly, sighing, “I hate when you’re right, you know that?”

“I know,” He chuckled, “I don’t love it either, you’re usually the one in the right.” He took a deep breath before moving on to the actual heart of the topic at hand, “You know, I do really, genuinely like you in a romantic sense.”

“I really like you too.” You didn’t like him, you fucking love him. But if you knew where this was going, you didn’t want to make this harder for the both of you.

He smiled at this, squeezing your hand gently, “Suppose we should discuss if we’re official then.”

You sighed, a frown adorning your features, “In the sake of honesty, I don’t know if we can be.” His face dropped, frown matching your own as you continued.

“In a few days, I’m going back to London, and I barely have time to focus on anything other than studying. I’m worried that I’d be neglectful as a partner, and you don’t deserve that. Even more so, thinking about the future scares the shit out of me. I’m scared of everything, Wilbur. Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to be here with you and forget about the world. I want nothing more than the ability to have a happy relationship with you. But- but, Will, I’m scared of deciding to go through with this, and ending up losing you because of it.”

You buried your head against his chest, letting out a shaky sigh. He was silent for a while before he spoke again.

“I understand. So, how about this?” You looked up at him and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “We have this week. These last few days of holding onto each other and calling each other babe. Then, once you leave, and you get settled in, we see what we can do. We’ll see if you can have the time, or if I can do something, or whatever we can do. And if we figure it out, we figure it out. If we don’t, we wait until you finish this final year, and we pick up from there.”

“You’d be willing to do that?”

“Love, I waited fifteen years to kiss you, and another four just to have you in my life again. A year is nothing in comparison.”

You didn’t quite know when you’d started crying. You sniffled a bit, wiping your eyes as you nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

He smiled at you, wiping your eyes gently, “Okay.”

You leaned up, placing a hand on his cheek as you kissed him. Your heart felt so warm, but your stomach still felt sick at the idea that so much remained uncertain. Part of you hated the idea that he’d be waiting for you, but a band aid solution felt better than simmering in bubbling anxiety, so you would accept it for now at least.

He held you close, smiling softly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, “Don’t worry, love. This time, regardless of what happens, I’m not losing you again. You’re stuck with me, honestly, so you’d better hope you don’t get sick of me. Because I am going to be a thorn in your side.”

You laughed, burying your face against his shoulder, “I’ll gladly accept that. I think I could get quite used to the feeling of being prodded by a thorn all the time.”

He immediately burst out laughing, and you chuckled yourself, lightly hitting him. “I did not mean it like that.”

He laughed, “Mean it like what, darling? Like this?” He turned, sitting on your hips as he started to tickle you. You squealed, squirming under him and laughing.

“Will! I- I swear to God, mate, I will- I will piss myself, stop it!”

He laughed at what could only be described as your suffering, stopping after a moment and just placing his hands on your sides. He leaned down and kissed you, and you wrapped your arms around him, gently playing with the ends of his hair. He hummed softly, one hand coming to cradle your head, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You were both breathless when he pulled away. A lopsided grin stretched across his face, still panting as he spoke, “Do you think orcas make fun of other whales for not having cool designs?”

You burst out laughing, groaning as you threw your head back, “Wilbur Soot, what the hell?”

“I’m serious!” He laughed, “Do you think they’re mean about it?”

You laughed, adoring just how bizarre this beautiful man could be, “I think some are. I like to think most are kind, though. Why is this important?” You laughed through your words.

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he grinned widely, “Everything has some importance to it. In this case, your opinion on if orca whales are assholes or not. I just like hearing your worldview.”

You flushed softly, “Really? And of all the things you’d ask about, why the bitchiness of orcas?”

He hummed, “Well, one, whales are fucking amazing. They’re gigantic and insane looking, I fucking love them. Two, it’s serious to me, but it's not serious. I know your politics, and you know mine. But silly stuff still reflects you, so I’m curious. Now that I can, I want to know all of you in every tiny detail, I want to absorb everything that I’ve missed in the past few years or all the things I just may have forgotten to time. I want to know the parts of you that you have never shown before, and I want to know the parts of you that don’t exist yet. Hence, asking a question you’ve probably never thought of before. I want to learn you as you learn yourself and show you the beauty that lies in each detail.”

You blushed darkly, left speechless. The word, love, was not strong enough, didn’t feel quite right, to fully define just how much you felt for this man. Telling him “I love you” would never fit how much you truly felt for him. You refrained from saying it for now, eventually just grabbing onto him and pulling him into a tight hug.

“You have no idea just how much you mean to me,” you whispered against his ear.

He kissed the side of your head, whispering back, “Darling, I know more than anyone just exactly what you mean.”

You held him, tighter, as if he’d leave you the same way you left him if you’d let go. After a moment, tears began welling up in your eyes. Not bad or good ones, but ones that signified just how loved you felt and how much you felt for him.

“Darling, you’re shaking, is everything alright?” He pulled away, frowning, “You’re crying, love, what’s going on?”

You shook your head, smiling through the tears, “No, it’s not bad, I’m just- sorry,” you spoke in a light sob, and he shook his head.

“Don’t apologize! I’m just worried, did something happen?”

You smiled widely up at him, “No, I’m just overwhelmed,” you said, and when his expression fell, you quickly tacked on, “Not because of you! You just, um, you make me feel… seen, I guess.”

He smiled, wiping tears away, “I’m glad, then. You deserve to be seen. You’re beautiful, and amazing, and… everything. Even if I am the only one who sees you, at least then, someone knows how grand your existence is.”

You groaned, blushing again, “You can’t just say things like that, you twat,” you sniffled a bit. “It’s too nice.”

“It’s true,” he shrugged, “simply deal with it.”

You laughed, pulling him in for another hug, “I’ll learn to, I guess.”

He buried his face against your neck, nodding, “Good.” He pressed a few gentle kisses along your neck. The kisses started delicately, as if he was worried that kissing you too hard would hurt. As you relaxed further and further into each kiss, you could feel him grin softly against your neck. His kisses slowly became more heated. They became languid and rougher, but never painful. He eventually escalated to covering your neck with hickeys, your hands carding through his hair. You fully relaxed in his arms. You kissed the top of his head, and he looked up at you, grinning softly.

“Sorry,” he hummed, “May have gotten a bit carried away.”

“It’s alright, I quite like them.”

“Oh, really?” He went to add more to the mosaic on you, but you held him back.

“Yes, but I’d much rather kiss you myself.”

He pulled himself up, grinning down at you, “Gladly.”

Things were still and quiet in the morning. You rested your head against Wilbur’s chest, his arms securely wrapped around you. Overnight, it appeared that the snow had gotten stronger, so there was a slight chill in the room that had you moving further into Wilbur’s arms.

Wilbur pressed a gentle kiss to your head, “Morning.”

You hummed, looking up at him, “Morning.”

The room settled into a comfortable silence, both of your brains still stirring awake. His head shifted towards the window, calling your attention to the snowflakes gathering on the sill.

“You know I’m not letting you walk home like this?”

“What, in the cold?”

“Yep. And not to mention you look… a little wild.”

“Coming from you that’s a compliment. I’d argue you probably look worse.”

“I could make you look worse.”

You snorted and laughed, laying your head on his chest again, “You’re in a mood this morning.”

“I’m just happy that you’re here.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up here recently though.”

“No. But it’s the first time we’re able to kiss and relax when we wake up together.”

You smiled, “True. A nice contrast to yesterday.”

He hummed, “Today will be a better day.”

You chuckled in agreement, holding tightly to him.

He gently rubbed your back, kissing the top of your head.

After a moment, you looked up at him. “We have to get up at some point, you know.”

He hummed, turning you both over to splay his body weight on top of you. “‘m sorry, what was that?”

You laughed, “Okay, okay, don’t crush me, we can just sleep in. At least until like midday.”

He cheered, getting up on his elbows and covering your face in kisses, “Yes! Good! Rest time!”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re good at convincing. Helps when there’s something in it for me.”

“Like what?”

“A kiss, hopefully.”

“Gladly,” He chuckled. He leaned down, lips meeting yours in a quick motion. You kissed him back, your hands playing with his hair gently. When you pulled away, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on top of him and squeezing you tightly.

“Will! Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed as you asked him breathlessly.

He lightened up a bit, chuckling, “Nope. Just trying to keep you here forever.”

You hummed, sitting up on his lap once he gave you the space. “It’d be an honor to be here forever.”

“In our secret oasis.” His hands came to your sides, lightly rubbing up and down.

“It’s your childhood bedroom, but yes, if you want to give it the dramatic name. Our secret oasis.”

“It’s secret because no one knows we’re here.”

“What about Tommy? Or the thousands of people on your stream?”

“Tommy doesn’t know my exact location. And I’d fucking hope my chat doesn’t either.” He laughed.

You laughed, “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s our secret place. Though I’d argue the back field where we had our first kiss is probably more of our secret place.”

“Oh, god, don’t remind me of that kiss. I was so nervous to kiss you. I practically chugged half the vodka to try and calm down.”

“I was nervous too! My cute, dorky, best friend who I’d secretly been crushing on, wanted to kiss me? Yeah, I freaked out a little bit.”

“It didn’t seem like it! You seemed so composed!”

“Only because I was so nervous.” You leaned down, pecking his lips. “We should try and go back there one of these days. Maybe recreate that kiss with fewer nerves?”

“Would you put your prom outfit back on?”

You lightly slapped his chest, gasping at the implications, “You gremlin.”

“I’m serious! You looked really good.”

“Would you wear yours?”

“Mine still vaguely smells like vomit, so, no.”

“Then I won’t be wearing mine.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

He pouted, “Fine. To be fair, you could be wearing anything and I’d find you gorgeous.”

You flushed, “Even in a dinosaur costume?”

“Oh, especially in a dinosaur costume.”

You laughed, “Okay, Soot. I’ll wear that if we ever go on a date.”

“You mean when. We will be going on a date without a doubt.”

“Oh? And what would we do?”

He hummed, “Well, we couldn’t be out in public. For your safety and privacy. Plus, I know you don’t like fancy places much anyway. So, probably a picnic. But, with some takeout from a good restaurant since my cooking isn’t fantastic. And then, just coming back to my place, or yours, and watching a movie.”

“That… sounds lovely, actually.”

“Actually? Rude.”

You chuckled, “Sorry, I’ve just become used to the idea of a date being ‘come by my place so we can drink surrounded by shitty roommates and trash.’”

Wilbur looked horrified, “Darling, I am going to change that. No more gross college boys. You deserve to be treated so much better.”

You blushed, “Thank you, Will. I’ll be holding you to that, though.”

“You don’t even have to worry. I can’t believe you had to even deal with people like that, Christ. I’m going to raise your standards.”

You hummed, “You already have.”

Pink rose on Wilbur’s face, and he reached a hand up to your cheek, “I’m glad then.”

You smiled, leaning forward and playing with his hair.

“We should go,” you spoke up, “Back to the field, I mean. Might be a nice way to just get out of the house a bit.”

You nodded with a hum. “When?”

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, “Later after we’ve taken a nap.”

“Wilbur, we’ve just woken up.”

“Yeah, but you make me comfortable. Plus we had a lot of fun last night.”

You lightly hit him, “Get your mind out of the gutter, Soot. A nap does sound nice though.”

He grinned, “Doesn’t it?”

You leaned down, placing your head on his shoulder and landing a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned his head to grin lovingly at you, parting the curtain of your hair with one hand while the other held you close to him.

By the time you woke up again, it was well past three. Wilbur was already awake, his hand gently carding through your hair. It was a bit warmer now than when you’d woken up initially. You yawned, stretching as you woke up.

“Morning, darling,” he smiled as he looked down at you.

“Morning, again,” you chuckled softly, sitting up properly and rubbing your eyes.

He chuckled, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “You hungry?”

You nodded.

“Want to go to the cafe? It’s probably pretty empty right now.”

You chuckled, nodding again, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Mind if I borrow a jumper?”

He hummed, “Go ahead. Take your pick.”

You stood slowly, grabbing a big yellow jumper from his closet. You changed quickly, trying to conserve enough warmth while Wilbur changed as well.

You finished getting dressed, turning to him, “Are we walking there?”

He hummed, peering out the window, “We could, but it might be safer if we don’t. It’s not snowing anymore, but it could start up again.”

“I could drive us then. We’d just have to walk to my place.”

He nodded, “Alright.”

Taking his hand in yours, you walked downstairs and outside into the cold icy streets.

The walk to your house was peaceful, breaths visible in the air, as you and Wilbur walked hand in hand. When you reached your front door, the serene air surrounding your walk shattered upon realizing you had to face your family. You just had to go in and grab your keys. You repeated it like a mantra in your mind. You considered telling Wilbur to wait outside, but before you could, he squeezed your hand.

“It’s alright, I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?”

You nodded, looking up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You let out a breath, letting go of his hand to open your front door. You tried to make a B-line for your room, but the sound of the door opening seemed to have alerted the home, as your aunt swooped into the foyer.

“Oh, my goodness! Little Wilby! My, how you’ve grown!” She squealed out, the rest of your family coming up quickly. Everyone was quick to dote on Wilbur, having known him for just about as long as you had.

“Sweetheart, is that where you’ve been sneaking off to? You should’ve told me you were hanging out with Wilbur, we could’ve invited him for dinner!” Your mother seemed innately pleased in the notion that you were with Wilbur. It only made you want to get out of there faster. Wilbur didn’t seem too overwhelmed speaking to your family, but you knew that it was starting to get to him slightly so you took charge.

“Right, well, we’re planning to head to the café, so we’d best get going. I just need to grab my keys,” you grabbed Wilbur’s arm, pulling him quickly to your room, and ignoring the calls of protest from behind you.

You let out a breath once you got in, looking up at him, “Sorry if they were kind of all over you.”

He smiled softly, “It’s alright,” he pulled you forward, kissing the top of your head. He was quiet for a moment before a frown replaced his smile. “They haven’t changed,” he hummed, “I thought you told me before you left that they were getting better”

You sighed, “I thought they were,” you leaned your head against his chest, “They only got better because I was there to mediate. Now, they’re just as toxic again.”

“Well, you should grab a bag and put some clothes and stuff in it. That way you can spend the majority of your time not here.” Wilbur suggested, gently rubbing your back.

You looked up at him, a soft grin adorning his face. You smiled back, “That sounds like a great idea.”

You pulled away to start grabbing stuff, Wilbur sitting down on your bed. You wondered what he was thinking about. Vaguely you wondered if he was getting that same feeling you did the night you went back to his room to listen to him play music. You wondered if his eyes roaming around meant that he was also reliving the memories you two had here, the number of times you had snuck out of your window, him showing you random videos to drown out the fighting of your family, complaining over schoolwork or professors, and just existing hip to hip.

Once you’d packed up, you walked over to him, grabbing his hands. “You’re thinking about something.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I am.”

“What’s in that head of yours, Soot?”

“Thinking about the future.”

Oh.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, neither of us live here anymore. And you’ll be leaving London eventually. So, I’m thinking about where we go from there.”

“Well, depends on where I get a job, I suppose.”

“Lots of jobs in Brighton.”

“Will,” you laughed, “That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to find one there. I’m studying fucking English. Not much I can do anywhere I want.”

“You could work for me.”

“Will-“

“No, I’m serious. You used to help me with DnD campaigns. You could edit scripts or lyrics. You used to write poetry, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

You sighed, “Will, I’m not sure that would work. I’m not sure dating my employer is truly the best solution here.”

“For Tommy, then, he probably needs more help with his scripts than I do anyway.”

“That could cause problems with you and Tommy if something happens, and I don’t want that.”

“I’m just saying, there are options. You could do remote work and just live in Brighton.”

“Brighton is expensive.”

“It’s cheaper than London.”

“Not by much. Rent is still insane in Brighton, trust me, I’ve looked.”

“Not if you split a place with me.”

Your breath hitched.

“Wilbur…”

“Just hear me out, okay, we’ve known each other long enough to know how we’d work together. I’m not losing you again. We could find a nice three-bedroom, so we could both have our own rooms and office space, and we could make it work. Then, once we’ve saved enough, we could move to fuckin’ America or something, wherever we want to go, we could do.”

“America?”

“Anywhere you’d like to go, I’d follow you. America’s just my pipe dream.”

You sighed. It could be a good option, honestly.

“I’m just not quite sure yet.”

“And you don’t have to be! You’ve still got a year til graduation. I could find a place in that time, so by the time you’re ready, we can do it.”

You squeezed his hands, hanging your head, “Maybe I’ll think about it.”

He seemed to let out a breath of relief, “That’s all I ask.”

You nodded, placing your forehead against his gently. You and he shared a silent moment, just breathing together. His hands slowly moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you in to tight hug. You hugged him back just as tightly. And though he would never say it, you knew exactly what fear ran through his mind. You knew exactly what he was afraid of. That you refused to be as dedicated to this commitment between the two of you as he was. Because there remained a lingering fear in you that this would not last. This pocket of bliss would rip a seam at the bottom and fall into another void of unforgiving remnants of time where your promises went to die.

You both managed to sneak out without too much disruption from your family. A snarky comment about keeping it clean from your uncle as you shut the door to your house would not deter you, as most things they could say now couldn’t. You two sat in the car for a moment, waiting for it to heat up. He connected his phone, putting on some music to hopefully put the both of you in a better mood.

The drive was short, with little words being shared beside Wilbur singing along to the music. Neither of you wanted to leave the car, despite the slightly tense atmosphere. After parking, you reached over and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly.

You scrambled to think of something to say to break the tension.

Thankfully, Wilbur had you beat, “You used to like filming things.”

“I- yeah. I still do, I guess. Just don’t have time for it anymore.”

“Would you ever want to do it?”

You thought for a moment. “I mean, yeah, maybe. I’d still love to make a music video or something one day.”

He nodded, “You could do it. Youtube and stuff, I mean.”

You sighed, “Will, I just don’t have the time to start. And by the time I can make money from it, it’ll be way too late.”

“I know you want to think about this more, but, all of my Youtube friends need help with people that film that they can trust. If you want to go that route, there are options. Even if it’s not for me or Tommy, I know people. And then it’ll give you time to start your own account, and I can help you with that! I can promote you, even,”

“Not that. If I do it, I don’t want to blow up completely out of nowhere. I’d want to be used to it first.”

“But you’re thinking about it.”

You laughed, “I’m thinking about it.”

He raised his other hand in cheers, “That is a win for me. I’ll take it.”

You laughed, tugging his hand, “C’mon. Let’s go eat.”

You turned the car off, and he quickly bolted out of the car and went to your side to open the door, “Hurry, hurry, it’s freezing out here.”

You laughed, taking his outstretched hand and standing, “You chose to be chivalrous, take your punishment.”

He let out a whine, tugging you into his arms, “Come here, I need warmth.”

You locked the car, letting out a loud laugh, “Okay, okay,” you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back, “Let’s go inside, it’ll be warm in there.”

He nodded, letting go of the hug to pull the both of you inside. You both went to order, and he turned to you while you waited, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You shrugged, “Probably just a coffee and a muffin. Just something small.”

“Do you still get them the same way?”

You nodded.

“Alright. Could you do me something then?”

“Uh, depends.”

The person in front of us moved, making us up at the register.

“Could you go grab me a napkin? I think I touched some ice or something.” He held his hand up, thumb swiping over his fingers and palm. You knew how he was when it came to weird sensations, so you quickly replied.

“Oh, sure,” you turned, walking to the sidebar to grab him a napkin. You walked back over to him as he was paying, handing him the napkin.

“Thanks! Also, I ordered and paid for you.”

You stared at him, shocked for a moment. After a moment, you spoke, “Did you even need a napkin?”

He shook his head quickly, “Just needed you to walk away so I could pay for you.”

You blinked at him, lightly hitting his arm, “You ass. Don’t do that.”

“What? Pay for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You simply cannot stop me, love.”

You groaned, “I swear to god. I’ll start paying for your shit too.”

“I’m taller than you, therefore faster. Good luck trying.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Yeah? I don’t think you do,” Wilbur snickered, before lifting a hand to the collar of his sweater. You flushed when he daintily pulled the fabric back to reveal the hickeys you had left on him the night before. You switched your gaze to meet his and he winked, only flustering you further. You pressed your head against his shoulder while he just laughed at you.

You sighed after you’d calmed a bit, “I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

��You do pay me back. Just by being with me.”

You hid the way you blushed, “Sappy.”

“Only for you.”

“Hush. I’ll make you flustered right back.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Well, I c-“

“Order for Wilbur!”

The barista called out, saving Wilbur just in time for the not-exactly publicly appropriate thing preparing to leave your mouth. Wilbur walked forward, grabbing the order for you both and walking to a booth in the far corner by a window. You both sat down, and he passed you your coffee.

“Light roast latte with caramel?”

“How do you even remember that?”

He chuckled, “I just do. I said earlier, I want to memorize you, and that includes all the tiny details. Like your coffee order. And the fact that you prefer regular chocolate chip muffins to the double chocolate chip muffins because you think it’s too much chocolate.” He handed you your muffin after, and you flushed once again.

“It is too much chocolate.” You spoke simply, not quite sure how to respond. Part of you felt guilty that you didn’t remember these small details about him, so you continued with, “I’ll have to relearn anything I’ve forgotten about you.”

That caused him to flush slightly, “Really?”

“Yeah. Can’t be sharing the pieces of me to a stranger, after all.”

“I’d argue we’re much closer than strangers.”

“True. But I need to have you memorized as you have me.”

He smiled, a gentle smile that told you he was grateful, “That’s true.”

You bit into your muffin. There was a soft smile on your face that you tried to hide by lowering your head. He saw it, though. You knew he did.

After you finished eating, you took your drinks and returned to the car. You duetting him for the songs you remembered, the old Los Campesinos! he taught you back when Aleksandra was still in the band. You were going to turn to his home but stopped when you saw the street your school resided on. You turned down the street, parking in the old lot between the school and the old church. They were both covered in holiday decorations, a grave reminder of the short time you and Will had together. But you tried not to think of it.

Instead, you looked at the school, thinking of the day you chose to leave.

When Wilbur caught sight of you, he spoke up, “Memories?”

You nodded, letting out a sigh, “Thinking of our last day there.”

He nodded, “That was… a day to say the least.”

“It was a good day, for the most part. We were so excited. I just…”

“What is it?”

“I knew for two weeks that I’d be leaving… I don’t know why I waited until that day to tell you. I spent all day knowing that it was the last day I’d probably see you. I keep thinking that maybe I should’ve told you earlier. Maybe I should’ve done something so that you’d beg me to stay. And things may have gone differently.”

“To be fair, I didn’t exactly take the news well.”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“Do you really think I would’ve let you go? I would’ve been so angry that we wouldn’t have had a good last few weeks or days. I was a petty person, so at least by waiting, we had a good day before the fight.”

You sighed softly, “I guess so.”

He took your hand, going quiet for a moment before speaking again, “I should have asked you to stay. Instead, I just forced you away because of how angry I was. I should’ve tried harder.”

“You know I wouldn’t have stayed. I wouldn’t ask you to wait for me after all. I just… wish you could’ve been happy for me. I know we were both yelling a lot, but it did hurt. It was my only way out of the house. I wish you could’ve at least been happy about that.”

He sighed, “I am, now. Despite the hell hole that London is, it’s better comparatively. I’m just happy for you a bit too late.” He gently reached a hand up, brushing some hair out of your face.

You took a deep breath, leaning into his hand. “We could talk about should’ve-beens and would’ve-dones until we’re blue. Maybe we should just talk about now.”

“You think so?”

You nodded, pulling the lever at your seat to recline back. Wilbur did the same, and you turned to face him, getting comfortable.

“Do you think bees dance to communicate because they find it fun?” He asked after a moment.

“Sadly, no,” you hummed, “I think because they do it for work, they don’t find dancing fun. They probably find things like conference calls fun. Or paperwork.”

“Do you think they operate on a capitalist or communist type system?”

“They don’t have currency, so neither technically, but closer to communism. If they were capitalists, the bees would’ve gone extinct long ago.”

“Do you think they’re going extinct now because they tried to switch to capitalism?”

You laughed, “That I know is not true. I saw the Bee Movie, they’re dying because humans aren’t getting into weird relationships with them anymore.”

That led Wilbur to burst out laughing, hitting the seat of the car as he laughed. You laughed as well, mostly due to how happy his genuine laugh made you.

You glance at him between your own laughter, a fond look taking over your features. Once he’d calmed a bit, he made eye contact and smiled, giving you an odd look, “What is it?”

“Hm?”

“Something’s going on in your brain, you’ve never looked at me like that before.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure yet. Could be a dangerous thing.”

“Oh, really? Dangerous how?”

“Well, it could make me do this,” he placed a hand on your jaw, gently pulling you in for a kiss. It was a bit awkward, given the lack of support brought on by the gap between your car seats. However, it was warmer than the cold that seeped into the car and that still resided in your chest just by being home.

He grinned when he pulled back, thumb gently stroking your cheek, “You know, since you’re staying at mine for at least two days, you could be on a stream.”

You chuckled, “At least?”

He nodded, “At least. It’s the bare minimum. My actual estimate is for the next five days,” you only had seven left, “you’re ignoring the point though.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Would I have to be seen?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“And what would they know about us?”

“Just that you’re my friend.”

You hummed, “Maybe. Will Tommy be there?”

“Do you want Tommy to be there?”

You snorted, “Not necessarily. Plus, you mentioned that he has a bit of an issue with spilling information.”

“Oh, yes, he does.”

“Well then, we’d better make sure that if I do, he’s not there. Don’t need him making another joke about us snogging.”

He laughed, “That’s a good point.”

You smiled softly, “Is your chat nice?”

“To me? No. To guests? Always.”

“Good, I’ll like them then.”

He gasped, “Fuckin’ rude. You’d better side with me. They will try to side with you, so you’d better only side with me.”

“I will do as I so please, Mr. Soot.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“It is.”

“Well, it just so happens that I, too, will do as I please. Which includes this,” he leaned forward, kissing you again.

You kissed him back lovingly, pulling away with your hand on his cheek this time, “Well, it just so happens then that our interests aligned at that moment.”

“Oh? So you’re saying kissing me pleases you?”

He was trying to make you flustered, but it wouldn’t work this time, “Yes. It does.”

He flushed instead, leaning forward, “Well, if it does, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Not at all,” You kissed him once again.

After a routine of kissing and Wilbur breaking to ask his weird questions for about two hours, you two eventually decided to leave the parking lot. However, you took the long route home, the two of you just driving around to see your old hometown.

“You remembered my love of poetry earlier,” you commented after a moment.

He nodded, “It’s always been big for you, even if it’s something you don’t like to talk about.”

You nodded pensively before continuing, “Have I told you one of my favorite poems?”

“You have a lot so you’d have to be more specific.”

You chuckled softly, “It’s The Road Not Taken by Frost. Have I told it to you before?”

He shook his head, “No, you haven’t.”

You hummed, “It’s much more of a recent favorite. Anyways, I really recommend it. I’d recite it, but-”

“No, do.”

“But I don’t have it perfectly memorized anymore. I used to. I have the last stanza memorized still, but you need the context of the rest of the poem to understand.”

“Let me find it, hold on,” he pulled out his phone and found the poem, beginning to recite it out loud to the both of you. When he reached the final stanza, you joined in:

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

He was quiet for a moment as he processed the poem. “So what does it mean?”

“Well,” you started, “it's become a recent favorite because of us. There’s irony throughout the poem. The subject is the road he did not take, the choice he did not make, to the point where he says that instead of telling us he took the common path, he should be telling a story years later about how he took the road less traveled by and it changed his life. I keep thinking about how the road less traveled for us would’ve been me staying, and how different everything may have been. Things could’ve been completely different for us.”

“That’s interesting. I like the poem. But, I really like the path you took.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “think about it. We never talked about the prom kiss until recently. If you’d stayed, we probably never would have. We might’ve just been stuck pining for each other til the end of time.”

“So you wouldn’t change anything? Even the fight?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t, at least not without some sort of guarantee that we’d still end up together. I think we’d always be in each other's lives in some way. But with the way things worked out, we got together, rather than just staying friends,” He sighed appreciatively, “Not to say I wouldn’t be alright with if we’d stayed friends, but at least this way, we have a shot at this. And maybe we would’ve eventually found each other again and got together, and all the hurt wouldn’t have been necessary, but I know I wouldn’t take the chance of changing anything without knowing we’d reach this point again.”

You stopped at a light, turning to look at him, “It was worth it then? All the loneliness and upset and anger?”

He nodded, smiling softly, “Absolutely, if it meant getting us where we are.”

You blushed, looking back at the road. You didn’t think he could still make you shy at this point, yet in nearly every conversation he seemed to one-up himself. “I’m glad,” you spoke quietly. He gently squeezed your hand.

You pulled into his driveway, parking quickly and grabbing your bag from the backseat.

“Let’s go in. I want to get cozy.” You hummed.

He nodded, “Of course. Did you pack your laptop?”

You nodded.

“Want to play Minecraft?”

The two of you rushed inside from the cold and quickly made a matter of getting as comfortable as possible. You snagged one of his hoodies this time, pulling on a pair of nice sweatpants as well. While he went to get dressed, you snuck downstairs to the kitchen to make hot chocolate for you both. He seemed to be a bit distracted with getting his computer turned on and making space for your laptop, but after a few minutes, you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Darling?”

“In here,” you called out, stirring the milk you’d heated to combine with the chocolate.

He stepped in, wrapping his arms around you gently, “Hot chocolate?

You nodded, leaning your head back against him, “Figured it’d be nice to have a treat while we game. Just like the olden days,” You chuckled.

He grinned, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, “Thank you.”

You turned in his arms, smiling up at him, “Of course, Wil. You feelin’ all cozy?”

He nodded, smiling back at you, “Very much so. I got you whitelisted on my server, so we can play together. And if any of my friends join, you could meet them, as well.”

“Oh, yeah? Like who?”

“You could meet my bandmates. Sometimes they’re on around this time. Tommy probably won’t be on, but my friend Quackity might, you’d like him I think. There are some others as well, but some of them I can wait to introduce you to when you visit me in Brighton for the first time, a lot of them live around there. Plus, then you won’t have to see my friend James’s embarrassing Minecraft username.”

“What’s his username?” You laughed.

“JamesDoesMining.”

You burst out laughing, and he did as well. “Don’t even bring it up to him, he will try to defend himself.”

You leaned up and pecked his lips, “I won’t. Can you grab the mugs?”

He nodded, leaving the hug to grab two mugs while you turned off the stove, taking the ladle and pouring you and Wilbur’s cups of hot chocolate.

You both headed upstairs, getting cozy and preparing for a calm night of gaming and being together.

taglist: @shubblelive / @superioritycomplexes / @your-shifting-gurl (send an ask/dm me if you want to be added)

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mar writes #wilbur x reader #tis the damn season au #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur

92 notes · View notes

becauseplot · 3 months

Text

it’s Stupid Hours (aka way too early in the morning) and after 0.2 seconds of searching on YouTube ive come to the conclusion that there is no qsmp John Mulaney “The One Thing” animatic yet and ive gotta say guys. im disappointed.(/lh) im so used to every fandom having at least one The One Thing animatic that realizing there isn’t one for qsmp is bonkers to me. i’ve watched so many of these over the years that if you played The One Thing audio, i could probably recite it in time w the audio (i won’t say from memory bc my memory is shit.)

anyway here’s what i would personally do for a The One Thing animatic if i could draw. remember that this is gonna be skewed to the POVs im more familiar with so im sorry if your cubito doesn’t make it into the role you’d expect. i tried to include as many people as possible.

Edit: "Back in high school..." - not really necessary, but i imagine this story/"AU" taking place during the egg disappearance, which would explain the overly chaotic behavior of the islanders. not that they ever need a reason to be chaotic.

Narrator - Charlie. he’s not on the server as often but bc of that he would make a good “outside” pov narrator. also he’s just a got a really quick-with-it type of humor, cracking jokes and puns and doing wordplay/inprov’d songs at the drop of a hat, and he also loves telling stories.

Mr. Macnimara - Cucurucho. “And Mr. Macnimara was an asshole.” need i say more?

Jake Macnimara - Jaiden. beloved bird of the Federation, though that absolutely would not stop her from throwing a wild party for her friends in their offices if she could. Edit: also Quackity would make a really good option here. Cringefail man that the Federation likes to toy with, we love to see it. Also with his shit luck it makes sense that a party that he decides to host at the Fed offices (a bad idea in the first place tbf) would blow up in his face so hard.

(Bonus: Mrs. Macnimara - the Duck. the Watcher. ElQuackity. idk who’s funnier just whoever your heart desires.)

“And we all got up individually and thought: okay, let’s go over there, and destroy the place.” - split screen of Cellbit, Baghera, Maxo, and Bad. there could be more, like Mike, Etoiles, Phil, Tubbo, really anyone who hates the Federation and/or has an affinity for chaos. Foolish would be a really fucking funny option for this one because yeah he works for the Feds but He Absolutely Would. all of the characters would get up calmly, and on the word “destroy” flip to a Chaos Mode Engaged expression (Cellbit with a grin and bloodstains on his cheeks, Baghera w flames behind her and in her eyes, etc etc)

“People were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw our legs off” - Tubbo and his backpack of 3749588383 chainsaws. tazerraft could also be a good option considering Pac’s love of beheading people and Mike’s generally unhinged behavior. tbh just anyone/everyone in morning crew.

Person who breaks the pool table - Etoiles. someone would dare him to and he’d get so fucking excited he would absolutely HURL himself at that pool table. (dogboy behavior)

Person who takes a shit on the computer - … look ive been blankly staring at this one for like 7 fucking minutes. my heart says Aypierre but i could not tell you why. just. anyone who would absolutely do some rancid, unhinged shit when given the opportunity. Foolish again maybe. idk.

Edit: "Something something, police." - Jaiden, if she isn't Jake Macnimara. She would totally say it in a "LOL UH-OH" manner. If not, I could also imagine Missa, Bagi, or Fit nervously/bluntly trying to warn people while laughing.

“Fuck da police!” - “Fuck da Feds!”/“Fuck da Federation!” from what i can tell, Charlie doesn’t have an active animosity towards the Federation, but a lot of his friends do, and he will do anything, ANYTHING to commit to the bit. he will do ANYTHING for the funnies, and if he thinks that shouting “Fuck da Feds!” at the top of his lungs is going to get a reaction out of people, he absolutely will.

Edit: "'I served my nickel, you come and take me!' confidence." - Mike. I have such a strong mental image of Mike drunkenly shouting this while Pac and Fit hold him up/hold him back. Fuga references my beloved. Also the fact that he was put in a Fed freezer for a while.

The Police - the Federation workers. obviously. bonus points for one unnamed guard/officer being impressed like “wooooow :0” and then widening the shot to reveal an unamused Agent 18 standing next to them, leaning into his walkie talkie saying, “Get the paddy wagon.”

“SCATTER!” - Phil. (if you know you know.) generally, people who don’t know Phil tend to think he’s pretty chill, so no one would expect him to do something like that. also when Charlie says “And my friend John—” it would cut to a ‘pause screen’ over the scene, Charlie coming on screen to clarify the “father” and “baby” parts by providing helpful pop-up images of family pictures with Chayanne, Tallulah, and Missa on screen. Resumes, presses play and the screen clears: “He grabbed a 40…”

Edit: "Until, two years later..." - again, not really necessary, but it could be something like, "Until, after Purgatory..."

Alex (guy who stole the photos) - Roier. HEAR ME OUT. Roier, similar to Phil, is just such an unassuming guy. he’s cheery and laughs a lot and cracks jokes, but deep down, he’s smart and he’s got a burning HATRED for the Federation. he’s not the kind of guy to start fights, but with everyone else causing chaos at the party, breaking shit in the offices/house, he would absolutely take the opportunity to steal Federation documents for his husband’s investigations. (or antique photos, if you want to keep with the high school setting/theme.) i mean he stole a fucking lamp from their offices once just because there was so much shit going on and he knew the Feds probably wouldn’t notice (iirc).

Edit: SOMETHING I FORGOT TO MENTION ABOUT ROIER. you could totally make the line “because it’s the one thing you can’t replace” a reflection of Bobby, who the Federation ‘killed’, so now he’s getting back at them. (i’ve put way too much thought into this.)

anyway that’s all! feel free to contribute if u want i just really love The One Thing. it’s an older fandom meme but yeah it still checks out.

(the sheer number of edits to this thing really speaks to how much it lives in my head lmaooo. there's more details but im not gonna include them here bc they're too visual.)

#qsmp #<-might take this off main tags idk yet #dont mind me im just rambling #i spent an hour on this #im so ffuckin sleepy

15 notes · View notes

babyboyxiao · 2 years

Note

hi! could you do an aged up yatora yaguchi smut? i don’t have anything else specifically just stay true to his character. this is my first time requesting so sorry if i’m doing anything wrong!

thanks!!!

Yellow is the Colour of His Eyes | Yaguchi Yatora x Reader

AN: thank you so much for the request, i'm sorry this took so long! you're absolutely perfect and i'm so excited for my first Blue Period request! i really tried hard to write him in character but idek anymore, it's been a fat while since i last read bp tbh, and idek what that ending was i got hella tired at the end of writing this but i just hope you enjoy it,, i ended up really leaning into the idea of the reader being a fellow student so there's actually quite a bit of plot so i hope that's okay too,, i was also listening to soccer mommy's song of the same-ish name technically it's "her eyes" while writing this and, while the lyrics don't quite line up, i'd recommend listening to it while reading this bc idk it just fits for me :)

Summary: during a rough night pouring yourself into your final assignment of your second year at Geidai, Yatora finds you decrepit in your studio area. the weight of the mistakes in your work weighs heavy on your shoulders and you find yourself unable to hold back your feelings any longer.

CW: smut, nsfw (minors dni!), friends to lovers, angst with a bit of fluff, unprotected sex, gn! reader

As the end of the semester drew near, you found yourself gradually spending more and more time holed up in your studio working on your final assignment. Your hands stained with ink, paint caked underneath your chipped fingernails, and your eyes swelled with a lackluster enthusiasm as you stared at the canvas before you. It was completed, ready for submission and you were elated that you could finally call it a night... but then you spotted it, a dark smudge on the right edge of the canvas. No doubt it was made by your grimy hands as you'd absent-mindedly gripped the canvas while painting. It wasn't just there either, suddenly every imperfection stood out like a sore thumb and you groaned, tears threatening to spill over as you buried your face into your hands. You just sat there, shoulders slumped as you prepared yourself for another couple of hours of fixing all those blemishes. A gentle knock echoed from the door, platinum blonde wisps of hair peeking out between the frame and the door.

"Thought I'd find you here," Yatora huffed, "I've been calling you, y'know?" You didn't dare look at him, you didn't want one of your closest friends to see you in such a state.

"Oh, sorry... my phone's in my bag." You dejectedly reply. You heard the rustle of a plastic bag, then some rattling, and his footsteps drawing near. You furrowed your brows, you really weren't in the mood for this.

"It looks amazing, just a couple more touches here and there and you're almost done. I got you a couple of things to keep you going-" Yatora's rambling was cut short by the shrill screech of your stool. Keeping your head down, you marched over to him and began dragging him back towards the door.

"Yeah, thanks, really. Can you please leave now?" Your voice shook with every word, your fingers trembling as they gripped his biceps and legs wobbling with every step. The tremors in your voice sparking concern, Yatora spun around and clutched your shoulder, peering down to get a look at your face.

"Fuck, you don't look so good. Just- let's get some air, okay? I brought some snacks, you look like you're about to keel over." Yatora huffs, bringing an arm around your shoulder to lead your tired figure outside. You can't it back any longer, your frustration and exhaustion boiling over. You push his arm away, stumbling back towards your canvas. You know you're being dramatic but you can't waste any more time, and you know that if you went with him, you wouldn't want to leave.

"I can't! I have to finish this and, unlike you, I just- I can't work like you do! Constantly working, improving, like you know what you need to get better at a-and you just do it! It's like time doesn't slip away from you like it does for me, I just-" and then it hits you. You're knees crash into the vinyl beneath you, the air is abrasive in your lungs, probably from all the turpentine fumes, the dry skin of your hands absorbing your tears as they fall. The boy is stunned, his feet rigid but, in his stupor, he manages to walk towards you. Squatting beside you, he hesitantly places a hand on your head, ruffling your disheveled hair.

"Is that how you think of me?" he sighs, your outburst simultaneously empowered him yet pierced him. On one hand, the fact that someone like you saw how much he was improving made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, even if it was via some eruption of bitter emotions, and it wasn't like you never praised him, quite the opposite. However, there was something different about how you had said it, that was what was nagging at him; the fact that you seemed to put him on a pedestal like some prodigy when, for him, he was the one lagging behind.

"You're just so onto it," you sobbed, "half the time, I'm just fucking around, but you're constantly growing and doing something. And then shit like this happens and it's last minute and I'm falling over myself trying to finish." Yatora just snorts in response; he recalls all the times you spent sketching out ideas for all kinds of projects, when you'd meet up with him with some new idea just to abandon it an hour later when something new catches your eye. Sure, maybe he had a more consistent work ethic but that gleam in your eye and the hyper-intense passion that you and everyone else got with art was something that didn't really come naturally to him. But that wasn't really it, was it? You both were just seeing each other in those moments, only noticing the shadow the other person cast over you. He brings his hand down to pull you into an embrace, plopping his chin where his hand previously was.

"You know that's all bullshit, right?" Yatora huffs, burying his face into your hair, "you all are way ahead of me, I'm the one who's catching up. Fuck, I still don't know if I even get art yet. I only started a couple years ago now, but you've all been doing this for way longer than I have, you have it all down now but I've only just gotten the hang of it, to be honest." You're shaking in his arms, and you know he's right. All of his improvements were the same as yours however many years ago, but seeing his growth as an artist compared to your stagnation made you forget all that. Of course, how could you have been so blind?

"Fuck," you choke out, "you're right, I'm sorry." You pull away from him, his hand falling limply from your shoulder to your knee, rubbing small circles into your skin. "I didn't mean to say all that, I-I know you're working hard just to pass, we-we all are... I let the stress get to me, I'm really sorry, Yatora." You laugh, rubbing the tears from your eyes as you try to collect yourself, the embarrassment from your little outburst beginning to sink in.

"It's fine, besides, I kinda like the smudges..." he chuckles, his hand reaching around to rub the back of his neck. At this moment, a slight blush begins to creep onto his cheeks, realizing just how intimate the scene had been. You glance up at him, eyes wide and puffy, and he feels all the air leave his chest. He drops his head to avoid eye contact, his hands bashfully trying to hide his blush but you knew better than to let the moment end. Out of curiosity, you slink up to remove his hands from his face, and he loses balance, falling back onto the vinyl. You hover over him for a moment, taking in his flushed appearance before giggling. It wasn't exactly rare to see Yatora like this but, after such an emotionally charged moment, it was exactly what you needed to feel better.

"You know, Yatora, I think I could get used to a view like this." You giggle as he rises, his hand running through his hair as he propels himself forward to sit up properly. He mutters for you to shut up but the smile on his face speaks otherwise. Slowly, Yatora brings a finger up to stroke your cheek, collecting some stray tears. There's a fondness in his eyes that you can't help but shuffle closer to get a better look at. "Thank you Yatora, for checking up on me and dealing with... well, that."

"Don't worry about it..." He trails off, leaning towards you, his single finger turning into a hand cupping your cheek. Planting a hand on each of his sides, you rise up to meet his lips in a small kiss. Your heart is beating a million kilometers an hour, the cool vinyl the only thing keeping you grounded in the heat of the moment. His lips are soft if not a little dry, the faint taste of tobacco offset by whatever he'd been snacking on earlier but you didn't mind. You reached around to tangle your fingers in his hair, while his hands settled on your waist, dipping under your shirt to rub at your skin. You settled on his lap, gasping as he began to trail kisses from your lips to your jaw and down your neck. You thanked every deity that the studio was empty tonight, no one around to witness you grinding against his clothed erection. You didn't want Yatora's ministrations on your body to cease even for a second but, as you desperately began to claw at his shirt, he pulled away for a moment. His face flushed and chest heaving, he asked, "Here? Now?"

"You said I needed a break, right?"

"I said you needed air."

"Same difference." You shrugged, reattaching your lips to his. Despite his complaints, one hand continued to snake up your back while another plunged beneath the waistline of your pants. Meanwhile, yours trailed down his chest to the hem of his shirt, following his movements as you sucked on the skin of his neck. You both paused, desperately removing your bottoms to cut straight to where you needed each other most. His fingers descended right to your heat, clumsily rubbing and prodding at your entrance but, at this point, any stimulation was enough. You let out a small whine, hastily reaching for his cock and rubbing it against your hole.

"W-wait, don't we need a condo-" Yatora's plea was cut off when you sunk down onto his length, a groan was ripped from his lungs before you silenced him with another kiss. Your tongues danced in rhythm with your hips, nimbly rocking back and forth in his lap while the tip of his cock hit your most sensitive spot. Pulling back for air, Yatora immediately reattached his lips to your neck, continuing where he left off by sucking dark purple marks on your collarbone. Your nails dug into his scalp as you bounced up and down in his lap, the muscles in your legs taut and you didn't know how much longer you could keep up the pace you had set for yourself. Sensing your exhaustion, Yatora leaned back, pulling you down with him as he began to thrust upward into you. With your arms planted on either side of his head for support, you pressed your forehead against his, the knot in your core tightening with every lunge of his hips.

"Yatora~" you whimpered, your body overcome by pleasure. Yatora rolled over, capturing you beneath him as he continued to thrust into you. His hands came up to cradle your head while you pulled him down to your lips, drowning yourselves in another lustful kiss. As your ears were assaulted by the wild slapping of skin, you became hyper-aware of your lewd conduct in the middle of the studio. If anyone were to walk in at any moment... The thought alone was enough to send you over the edge, your legs binding themselves around his waist as your back curved up off the floor. As your insides clenched around his cock, Yatora couldn't help but also come undone inside you, the orgasm enough to cloud his better judgment of pulling out. You both remained in that position for a while, the remainder of your clothes clinging to your bodies, your bodies aching and begging for respite. Yatora's senses returned first, panic setting in as he pulled out.

"I- uh... Y/N?" Yatora whispered, you merely hummed in response, still dazed from your intense orgasm. Yatora sighed, pulling you up to settle in his lap, your hands resting on his biceps and head nestling into the crook of his neck. He pulled at one of your hands, holding it delicately in his own, fiddling with your fingers, and examining the blue and yellow stains across your hand. He looked at your painting, and then back at you before smiling. "You're fucking beautiful"

A giggle bubbled out of you, "so are you."

"But seriously, you need air and food, all the paint and turpentine fumes are probably fucking with your head."

#blue period x reader #blue period smut #yaguchi yatora x reader #yaguchi yatora smut

217 notes · View notes