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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

semi-charming • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :) + AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH + don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au,

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional.

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that.

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake.

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise.

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door.

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes.

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either.

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music."

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off."

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding.

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give.

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in."

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it.

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him.

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?"

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms.

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?"

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person.

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst.

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg.

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall.

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!"

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him.

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either.

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts.

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet.

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack."

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf.

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot.

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you.

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip.

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane. "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly.

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away.

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid.

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh.

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from.

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done."

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated."

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly.

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are, i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out.

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you.

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you.

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own. "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving?

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants.

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes.

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down.

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate.

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once.

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure.

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?"

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock.

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back.

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly.

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan.

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums.

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out.

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce.

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building.

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours.

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

"you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to.

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple.

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours.

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close.

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters.

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall.

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous.

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease.

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough smut #losers club x reader #losers club smut

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allisonlol · 3 years

Note

Third time the charm.

Hi, I'm back. Back again-

I would like to request Fyodor, Ranpo and Atsushi with s/o that meow whenever they see (or something reminds them) a cat.

So, it kinda looks like it's just random meowing but it actually isn't.

a/n: wait omg i do this too?? i be trying and failing to communicate with any cat i see-

warnings: none

(Atsushi, Ranpo, Fyodor)

Atsushi

so let's set the scene

you and atsushi were walking home after spending the day together

the two of you are walking in a comfortable silence until out of nowhere

you meowed??

atsushi just looks at you like 🙂 ???

before he can ask you why you'd just done that, you're letting go of his hand and running down the sidewalk towards something

you turn down an alleyway and atsushi is just sprinting after you calling your name worriedly-

he rounds the corner into the alleyway to find you crouched down in front of a stray cat

breathes a sigh of relief bc you practically gave this poor boy a heart attack

"is that why you meowed, y/n? because you saw a cat?"

you look back at him, nodding happily before turning your attention back to the kitty

from this point on, whenever atsushi hears you meow, he's immediately on the lookout for anything feline related you might have spotted

does this mean you do the same when he uses his ability? heh

Ranpo

ngl he probably does the same thing lmao

it’s like a secret code between you two. whenever there’s a cat around (or anything cat related tbh) one of you will meow to alert the other

ranpo is definitely a cat person...it’s canon bc i said so

therefore whenever he hears you meow he gets all excited and looks left and right for the kitty you’ve spotted

on this day in particular, you and ranpo were in the office after hours finishing up some paperwork

well, you were the one doing the work. ranpo was just there for “emotional support purposes” as he called it

you glance out the window for a second and then do a double take when you spot a black cat sitting down on the sidewalk

you smile to yourself, meowing softly

this catches ranpo’s attention fast

hops up from his seat and runs to the window

“y/n, there’s a cat! we’ve got to go get it!”

“we can’t just snatch someone else’s cat...” you laugh, but ranpo doesn’t hear because he’s too busy booking it out of the building

you’re quick to follow and the two of you burst out onto the sidewalk

effectively scaring the cat away...

you both watch as it runs off, sighing in disappointment

“next time try to stay more calm, ranpo-san...”

Fyodor

another one who’s most definitely a cat person

not that he really cares for animals tho...because he doesn’t lol

however, fyodor is aware of your liking for cats and will tolerate them for your sake

on this day, you and your boyfriend were taking a night walk through the central park

the second he hears you meow under your breath he knows it’s because you’ve seen a cat somewhere

fyodor always picks up on your little quirks without you even having to tell him

creepy, but not surprising

“spotted something, my love?” he’ll ask

you nod and point to the bushes where a small black cat is hiding

fyodor will warn you not to approach but you’ll ignore him and let go of his hand to run over to it

he slowly trails behind you until you both reach the bushes

you grab the cat instantly and start hugging it like- pls don’t do that it could be a stray !!

luckily it’s not tho and has a collar with a tag on it

“it’s a lost cat!” you say as you read the tag, where it states to call a certain phone number if lost

immediately you pull out your phone to call

fyodor just watches this whole scene play out in amusement

you’re so cute sometimes. you’ll have no problem mercilessly killing enemies but yet, will become so eager to reunite a lost cat with it’s owner

it’s called having priorities, fyo

whenever fyodor hears you meow out of nowhere, he’ll just sigh knowing he’s gonna get dragged around to another cat lmao

#bsd x reader #fyodor x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #fyodor x y/n #fyodor headcanons #fyodor x reader #ranpo x you #ranpo x reader #bsd ranpo #ranpo edogawa #atsushi x y/n #atsushi nakajima #atsushi headcanons #atsushi x you #atsushi x reader #ranpo headcanons

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kylie-writes-stuff · 3 years

Text

“wife”

pairing: corpse husband x reader (female)

words: 1,714

requested?: no (send some in tho pls :) )

plot/summary: felix invites his friend, y/n, to play among us when they need an extra player. her and corpse get along well

authors note: so this isnt that good and i know a lot of corpse fics use a similar plot. i just wanted to try to write for corpse. hopefully things i write for him in the future are better. let me know what you think tho! also i really wanted reader to be best friends with karl bc i love him sm. uh every swiggly line is like a small time skip. this was written late at night btw and i didnt take much time to go over it

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You sat up from laying down when you heard your phone ring. You looked at the caller ID.

Felix.

"What's up Felix?" You ask with a small yawn.

"Aww, how sweet," You hear in the background.

You giggle and ask, "Is that Sean? Hi Sean!"

"Yeah, we're playing Among Us and need an extra player. You down?" Felix explained.

"Sure, just give me a few minutes. See you soon, whore"

"Bitc-" You hang up before he can finish.

You got up and turned off your TV, going to get ready.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You quickly tweet out that you're going live and say something on your insta story as well. You start your stream and slowly watch people flood in.

"Hey everyone! How are you guys doing?" You wave and smile, reading the chat.

"Everyone doing good, awesome! And i'm sorry to anyone having a bad day. I hope i can brighten it a bit!"

"Okay, sorry i didn't give you a further notice. I didn't even know i was gonna stream. Felix invited me to play Among Us so... here we are!"

You quickly join the discord and pull up the game, putting a cover over where the code goes.

"Hello?" You ask as you join the call. A chorus of greetings came your way.

"(Y/n)?"

"Karl!" You smile brightly.

Karl Jacobs was a good friend of yours. You would play on the Dream SMP sometimes. When you would, it would mostly be you being stupid with Karl and Alex, also known as Quackity. You were even a well know citizen of El Rapids.

"LET'S GOOOOO!" He yelled, making you laugh.

"Hey (Y/n), do you know everyone here?" Sean asks you.

"Um," You quickly scan through the names, "no, i don't think so."

You recognized names but you only personally knew Felix, Sean, Karl, and Ethan.

"Oh my god! Your voice is so cute!" Pokimane exclaims.

You giggle softly, "Thank you Poki!"

You're voice wasn't high pitched or anything like that, you just always spoke very softly and calmly. You were also a bit quiet.

Felix introduces you to those that you didn't know.

"There's one more person we're waiting for," He says.

While everyone waits, you and Karl run around each other's little characters and make jokes between yourselves. You mute yourself to read donations every once in a while.

You hear the discord chime, signaling that someone joined the call.

"WAIT CORPSE! DON'T SPEAK YET!" Felix yelled. "We have a new player. This is my friend (Y/n), say hi to her"

"Hello (Y/n)," Corpse said. You were taken aback by how deep his voice was but you didn't show it.

"Hi Corpse! Nice to meet you!" You said happily.

"Okay, how is she not freaking out?" Bretman said, making everyone laugh.

"Uh, (Y/n), do you mind letting me have black? It's cool if not.." Corpse asked gently.

"O-oh sure, no problem." You were usually black with the pink flamingo hat, but you ran over to the little computer and changed your color.

"Simp," Ethan mumbled, knowing you never switch from black.

"Thank you," He said, then the game started.

The word “Imposter” appeared on your screen in red, yours and Corpse's characters underneath.

As the game started, you thought no one could hear you so you spoke to your chat. "His voice was so deep, what the fuck? Holy shit that was hot, i'm gonna-"

"(Y/n)," Rae laughed, "You know we're playing proximity chat, right."

You blushed as you realized and said "Ha, anyways..." and ran to start faking tasks.

You ended up in electrical with Karl. "(Y/n)! My good friend, my buddy, you would never kill me right? Haha..." He said.

"Of course not, Karl! My good friend, my buddy. Why, I'm not even imposter," I said as i quickly dipped into the vent and back out, making him laugh.

I decided to show him because I knew Karl wouldn't say anything, and it's funny.

"Oh that's good then. Are you sure you're not imposter?"

"Mhm, pretty sure," You said, going back in. As you came out, Sykkuno walked in and froze.

"Uh, (Y/n)?"

"Fuck... Karl run! Go!" You said, Karl starting to leave. You walked closer and quickly killed Sykkuno then vented to security.

"That was close..." You told your chat.

You saw Corpse as you made your way around the map and walked into navigation.

"Hey, Corpse, how ya doing?"

"Ah you know, good. Just being crewmate and all."

You stifled a laugh, "Oh yeah I feel that, buddy."

"Yeah because there's no way that i'm imposter. No way i could be faking tasks and there's no possible way you could be the other imposter" He said quickly.

"For sure. Hypothetically speaking, though, if you were imposter, how many people would you have killed by now?"

"I would say probably around two."

"Interesting," You said right before a body was reported. It was Sykkuno's. Felix and Rae were also dead.

"WHAT!" Corpse yelled.

"Where was the body at?" Sean laughed.

"Uh I found it in electrical," Bretman said.

"I'm pretty sure Karl was in there earlier."

You calmly said, "It's not Karl, I was with him for most of the round."

"How do we know the two of you aren't imposters?" Sean asked.

"I was alone with him, he would have taken the chance to kill me."

"No, he's your best friend."

"He's also ruthless,"

"TRUE! SO TRUE!" Karl yelled.

"So skip?" Corpse asked.

Everyone agreed and the voting was skipped.

The next round, I spent with Ethan. He was pretending to be mad at me because Sean said Karl was my best friend.

"What happened to Blue Boi Buddies, huh?!" He exclaimed.

"Neither of our hair is even blue anymore!" You argued back.

You were in reactor with him when Corpse and Poki walked in. He hit the lights and you took it as a sign to double kill. He killed Poki, you killed Ethan, and the two of you made your way to electrical to help fix lights.

You and Corpse went the opposite direction of reactor after the lights were fixed, Karl going with you.

Poki's body was reported. That double kill only left you, Corpse, Sean, Karl and Bretman. You only needed two more kills.

"I still think it's Karl and (Y/n)," Sean said quickly.

"I was with (Y/n) the whole time," Corpse said, "In fact, I think it's you."

"That does make sense. Why so quick to accuse others, Sean?" You ask.

"It's not me!" He yelled.

"I actually agree with Corpse and (Y/n)," Bretman said.

"I was with you!"

We all voted for Sean, him voting for Karl. Sean was ejected.

When you load into spawn, you wait for the kill cool down and kill Bretman, saving Karl.

"Victory" appeared on your screen.

"God damn it!" Sean yelled.

"Good job, (Y/n)," Corpse said lowly.

You smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks, "You too Corpse."

"Their voices go together and they're a fuckin dream team? What have i done...," Felix sighed.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

A few more games went by. Most of them you and Corpse spent together, whether you were both crewmates or if one of you was imposter.

You really enjoyed his company and you actually got along with him pretty well.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

"(Y/n), before we get serious, I have one question to ask you." Corpse said as both of your characters stopped.

"What's that?" You giggled.

"Do you know Bingus?"

"Bingus? As in, our lord and savior, Bingus?"

You could hear the smile in his voice, "It's settled, you're my wife now."

This made both of you laugh and your chat go crazy.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

Eventually, people had to start leaving. You said your goodbyes to everyone and left the discord call and the game.

You set stream to where it was just your face cam.

"Guys, what should we do now?"

You saw some people asking what time it was for you.

"It's 3 AM right now... I’m not tired though.” You had been streaming for a few hours; You never even noticed how late it got.

People in chat were yelling at you to go to sleep, making you chuckle.

“How about we do a quick QnA, then at 3:30 I go to bed. Deal?”

You watched as the chat filled with questions. They obviously seemed to like the idea.

“‘Who is your best friend? Karl or Ethan?’ Neither, Alex Quackity. Next question.” You answered quickly.

You laughed, “I’d like to clarify that that’s a joke, i love all my friends equally.”

You answered more questions. Some were from new viewers asking basic questions, some were about future streams and videos.

“‘How do you feel about people shipping you and Corpse?’“ People are already shipping us?” You laughed, “I’ve said before that I’m okay with shipping, as long as the other person is too. I think it’s funny.”

You continued to read chat. “Wait, we’re trending?”

You checked Twitter and “#(your and corpse’s ship name)” was trending in the US.

You laughed as you scrolled through the tag, “Oh this is so funny.”

“Fanart already?! You guys are so talented!”

You read chat, looking for more questions. You saw people telling you that it’s 3:30.

“Okay fine, a deal’s a deal. I hope you all have, or had, a great day and I’ll see you guys later. Depending on what time it is for you, you should also get some sleep. Stay hydrated, love you!” You ended stream.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You scrolled through Twitter as you laid in bed, liking fanart and dumb memes. Also replying to a few of your friends’ tweets.

karl :) @/KarlJacobs_

@/(your username) what the honk ?

*clip of you saying Quackity was your best friend*

You liked the tweet and replied, “karl no,,, look away,,,”

You continued scrolling, feeling your eyes get droopy. Your eyes fell closed but quickly opened when your phone vibrated. It was a DM.

From Corpse.

You two had followed each other earlier.

Corpse: hey (y/n), just wanted to say you’re really cool and i’d love to play again with you soon

You smiled, a light blush spreading across your cheeks, and replied.

You: i’d love to, corpse

Corpse: ok, see you soon ‘wife’

You: back at ya, ‘husband”

Corpse: :)

You: :)

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse imagines #corpse fanfic #uh #corpse husband x reader

895 notes · View notes

luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Sunrise

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: angst, fluff, smut, angst with a happy end, post breakup au, actor!seokjin, fashion designer!reader, exes to lovers

☼ Count: 9.5K

☼ Warnings: 18+, accusations of cheating, poor communication, some arguments (the relationship at the end can be seen as turning toxic as communication breaks down, so be aware if you think that may now work for you or just need to be prepared), heartbreak, non-explicit description of panic attack, moments of emotional shut down

Smut warnings: teasing, soft sex, nipple play, body worship, oral (f recieving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (stay safe pls!), dirty talk, exhibitionism, bratty reader, rough sex, manhandling, bruising

☼ Summary: It’s been well over 10 years since you and Seokjin broke up. You’ve been doing fine. Until one night a dream rocks you to the core and you find yourself in a place from the past. Have you really moved on?

Has he?

☼ Newly added epilogue: Moonlight

☼ a/n: This is told both in the present and past, the flashbacks are in italics! The flashbacks also aren’t in order, but I believe they’re pretty easy to follow when they would fall chronologically.

Inspired by the 2000s emo playlist I listened to as work (especially Jamie All Over by Mayday Parade) Sorry if the tags seem a little scary, I’d rather overtag than have someone get blindsided while reading. But I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

The cool breeze washes over you, bathing you in the salty ocean air. It seems you found the perfect time to come out here. The light jacket you wore more than enough to keep you warm on such an unexpected trip. The sky is slowly being painted in pinks and purples and oranges as the sun slowly starts to sink into the horizon, small wisps of fluffy, white clouds occasionally obscuring the sunlight. You’ve always loved seeing the sunset out here. The colors reflecting off the ocean and leaving everchanging patterns before you. You’ve based plenty of designs on sunsets.

The dress you wore to your first fashion week is still your favorite. The penultimate meeting of sunset and night sky. The outside was ombre layers of soft chiffon, shades of oranges and pinks and small bands of light purples. It pooled around your feet, you liked to think it made it seem like you had risen from the waters of a sunset reflection. The halter bodice wrapped around your neck in a shimmery, golden band. Hanging from the choker were thin golden chains, draped and connected to a golden belt at your waist.

For all appearances, it appeared like just a sunset colored dress. But when you walked, or pulled the fabric apart at the slit in the front, it revealed a glittering deep purple fabric, speckled like a swirling galaxy. It had been the ultimate combination of the theme of yours and Hoseok’s collection, sun and moon. The dress still hangs in your closet, one of the few extravagant pieces you’ve held on too. You want to wear it again, you just have to find an occasion to do so. The dress deserves it.

The scene before you specifically was what inspired it. Maybe not this spot specifically. There were a lot of memories tied to this spot that you tried not to think about typically. But you’ve always loved visiting the beach. Or lakes. Anywhere you could go and watch the sun sink into the water. Watch an uninterrupted sky blend colorfully with the water.

You can’t believe you’re back here though. It’s been easily more than 10 years since the last time you were at this beach, which is a drastic change from back then from when you came here all the time. Taking a seat on the bench beside you, you smile, a little sadly, as your fingers trace over the heart carved into the wood, weathered from years in the elements and use. But the letters are still clear enough and you skip over your initials, letting your fingertips trace the ‘ksj’ as you think on when they were put there.

The smile on his face is bright, as bright as the glint of sunlight off the small pocket knife in his hand.

Your combined giggles fill the fresh spring air, the beach fairly deserted since you skipped your last two periods of school to come here. You hadn’t put up much of a fight when he made the suggestion during lunch. Your grades are good enough and it’s the last weeks of high school, you can miss a few class periods to have some fun, to spend some time together before university. Just in case you don’t get into the same one.

The scratch of the blade against the wood is softer than you expect, a gentle scratch, scratch, scratch as he meticulously and carefully carves your names into the wood. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and you fight the urge to coo at how cute he is. Doubling down on keeping quiet when you know doing so would also result in him being overly macho to prove he wasn’t cute. Not because he doesn’t believe he’s cute or anything, but he knows how much the faux display makes you laugh. You don’t want to interrupt his work when this seems so important to him.

Finally he looks up from his work, proudly gesturing to the carving on the bench.

“That’s so cheesy.”

With an exaggerated pout, he gives you the saddest eyes he can muster. “I worked so hard on this for you. As a testament to our love!”

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his jutted lower lip. “Well, I didn’t know it was so serious. My apologies.”

A few more kisses and he’d promptly forgiven you and the two of you had spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach, taking blurry pictures on your flip phones. You’re positive that a printed version of one of those photos still lives in a box somewhere, where you didn’t have the heart to throw it away and so it’s stayed in a box of memories that moves with you but you never really look through.

You’re so tired when you finally get home. It doesn’t even feel like home anymore. You’ve spent more time either in the studio or with Jimin or Hoseok or at work than you have here. And you know from the times that you are here that Seokjin is gone just as often as you. It doesn’t even feel like you’re in a relationship anymore. It hurts to think about that.

So you’d thought summer would be the perfect time for the two of you to rekindle your relationship. Fix whatever problems you were having, free from the stress of finals. But with senior year quickly approaching, everything seems to have just gotten worse. You can never seem to catch Seokjin to start the process of fixing anything.

To your surprise, when you open the door you find Seokjin sitting on the bed, face pinched as he stares at something on his phone. Maybe this will finally be the opportunity to talk and start fixing things. You miss him, body cold and numb the nights you fall asleep here alone, always waiting and waking up disappointed.

Before you can say anything, his head lifts and the cold glare he sends you stops you in your tracks. What could possibly have happened to make him give you that look? You know the two of you have been having some problems, but nothing that would warrant that look.

“Where the hell were you?” His tone is as icy as his eyes.

You frown, gesturing vaguely towards the fridge. “Work. I put my schedule up so you knew.” He didn’t have the same courtesy. You never knew when he was working. Or what else he was doing when he was out. You had put yours up in hopes that he would do the same and maybe you would be able to find time to be together. Though you’re not sure he even bothered to go near the fridge. The few times you’ve made dinner for him and left the leftovers in the fridge with a note went untouched.

He sneers and holds his phone out towards you. You have to step closer to get a good look at the image he has pulled up. It’s from just a few hours ago. You and Jimin sat at one of the cafe tables and laughing. It had been your break and Jimin came in to keep you company. Had Seokjin come by the cafe? Why hadn’t he come in? If he’d been there when this was taken, you were on break, you could’ve spent it together.

“Then what’s this? Certainly doesn’t look like work to me.”

Your mind blanks. Is he seriously accusing you of lying right now? Indignation rises, acid burning in your throat. “What are you saying? If you were there why didn’t you come in? I would have loved to see you.”

“I wasn’t there. A friend sent this. And I’m saying that you’re never around. And I keep getting people telling me they see you out with him all the time. I haven’t seen you in weeks. But it seems like he sees you every day.”

He can’t seriously be accusing you of cheating right now. This seriously can’t be happening right now. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the accusation. It hurts that he’d honestly think you’d do that. Then the ugly thoughts come. What’s that saying, those who are most guilty are the quickest to throw blame at others?

“First of all,” you grit out, trying your best to keep your tone even. You can feel the rage churning in your belly. “I was on break when that was taken. Jimin came to visit because he knew someone wasn’t going to.” Seokjin’s mouth opens to speak but you continue, voice raising. He is not going to get to cut you off now. “It’s awfully fucking rich for you to accuse me when you have no evidence. You’re never even around. You know what they say, it’s never the one being blamed but the one doing the blaming.”

He scoffs and stands. In his anger, he seems to tower over you. But you’re too angry and indignant yourself for it to feel intimidating. You stare him down.

“You’re really going to accuse me now?”

“It’s the same thing you’re doing! I was hoping to fucking talk when I saw you were home. I was so happy to see you here. We haven’t been home together in so long. I-”

“We haven’t been home together because you’re always out with Jimin.”

“No I haven’t been fucking home because you’re never home and it fucking hurts to be in this shitty apartment without the person who’s supposed to be here with me. Do you know how fucking lonely it is waiting around here for a person who never shows up?”

Turning away from you, he takes a few deep breaths.

You deflate slightly. You could still fix this. “Seokjin-”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to hear any more excuses.”

He moves towards the door and you panic. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You wanted to fix things. To make them better. Everything has spiraled and you can’t let him slip through your fingers. You reach for his wrist.

“Seokjin, wait-”

He wretches his hand free and glances at you over his shoulder with so much contempt that you feel your heart in your throat. “No. I’m done.”

This can’t be it. This really can’t be it. He sees you about to speak again and turns and leaves before you can get a word out and it feels like the rug has been ripped out from beneath you. The silence deafening in his absence.

You don’t know how long you stand there for. You feel completely numb. Like this is just a bad dream and you’ll wake up soon and Seokjin will be next to you and you’ll tell him about this and he’ll laugh and comfort you and tell you that would never happen. You expect tears, but they never come. Everything feels so surreal.

The man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with just walked out on you after accusing you of cheating. 5 years and he really thought that was something you would do. Do you wait around? Hope he comes back for you both to talk with calmer minds.

You settle for a text.

You: Can we talk once we’ve both calmed down?

It’s less than a second later and the response makes your heart sink. Blocked.

He really blocked you already. He’s not even going to try? You sink onto the bed. What are you supposed to do now?

At some point, mechanically, you text Jimin, asking if he could come over and bring some boxes. Looking around, you’re at least grateful that your place was small because it means you don’t have that much to try to move. Jimin arrives, faster than you expected. Or maybe you’ve just become that disconnected from the passage of time.

He drops the boxes and comes up to you, hands fretting over you like there’s some physical injury he can attend to. Unless he knows how to mend a broken heart, his fretting is useless. Instead you move on autopilot, taking the boxes Jimin brought and packing your meager possessions into them. Jimin stands by the kitchen, looking sad and lost, unable to help because you have yet to say a word. He knows what happened though. It’s not hard to figure out. You’re thankful that he doesn’t try to get you to talk. Just lets you move and do what you need. Waits for you to ask should you need help.

You’re almost finished packing when you pull the shoebox from under the bed and you suddenly feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Flipping the lid open reveals hundreds of photos. Of friends. Of family. Of trips. Of Seokjin. The top pictures pull your attention. Two copies of the same photo. A blurry snapshot of you two grinning on the beach. You both look so young and happy. You wish you could go back to that. Everything was so simple back then.

He must have put his copy in with yours. Because why would they need to be kept in different places when the two of you would never be apart. You almost want to laugh. You mostly want to cry. You stand with the box, debate for all of two seconds before you set his copy down on the bed. He can decide what to do with his own copy. That’s not for you to decide. Not anymore.

Tucking the shoebox into the last of the moving boxes, you cast one last look around the apartment. The holes where your things were hurt to see. The physical evidence that this part of your life is over. Carefully extracted from a life that had been so delicately intertwined. You wonder if the gaps will even bother Seokjin. If he’ll even bother staying here, if he’ll move onto something bigger and better. Without you. Swallowing, you turn to Jimin before those thoughts can spiral. Not here. Not yet. Once you’re somewhere else and alone. Then it can all come out.

“Ready?”

You give a small nod and Jimin helps take your things downstairs. He does most of the work while you wait on the sidewalk. He calls a taxi, loads your things into, gives the driver his address.

As it pulls away from the curb, you can’t help but to watch the apartment shrink into the distance. Feeling like you left your heart behind. You wonder if you’ll ever get it back.

Your phone dings with a notification, dragging you out of the sad memories. You give yourself a small shake. You hadn’t thought about that day in years, pushing it to the back of your mind. You had learned later on that some girls had told Seokjin lies about you to get the two of you to break up in a bid for his attention. It had backfired spectacularly because you found out through Hoseok after he overheard Seokjin yelling at the girl who asked him out less than a week after the break up. He never came to talk to you after the truth came out though. You never let yourself think too hard about why that might be. You’d already spent too many nights feeling numb and broken. You poured yourself into your work. Your friends. You had been content for your senior year. It didn’t go how you were expecting, but it was still good.

You smile at the device in your hand. It’s far more advanced than your old flip phones had been, even your college phone had been fairly low tech, the downsides of living on a budget. High school you would have killed for a camera this good back then. That blurry picture of you and Seokjin would’ve been much more clear if you’d had something like this back then. You swipe the notification away, just an email from your assistant about your schedule for tomorrow and what had been shifted around from today. But all that can wait until later, probably when you’re back home. The notification draws your attention to a text from Hoseok that you hadn’t seen though. He must have messaged while you were walking so you didn’t feel your phone go off.

Hobihobi: Are you ok?

You smile at his concern. And honestly the fact that he even noticed you dipped out of the studio early. You had thought that he had been too busy on his own upcoming project to notice. It’s a pretty big deal for your label and he’s been working so hard to get this project. You’re just glad you have the perk of being boss to be able to dip when you need to. Although technically, you and Hoseok own your label, Daydream Designs, together.

Texting him a quick reassurance, you pocket the device again, content to just enjoy the sunset out here alone. There’s a few people scattered around the beach. A few families beginning to pack up for the evening, a person running with their dog, a couple walking along the shoreline.

You have such fond memories of this beach. For all the bad memories you have of the relationship, mostly from the end of it, at least the beach remains untainted.

Nervously clutching the letter in your hand, your leg bounces as you wait for Seokjin to arrive. He’d texted you earlier that he’d gotten a letter from SNU. You’d rushed home to see you had a letter waiting as well. You were thankful that they had come on the same day. You can’t imagine how much more anxiety you’d have if you’d had to wait longer for one of your letters to arrive.

You glance at the white envelope, the edges are beginning to wrinkle from your grip, but you can’t get your fingers to relax. Checking your phone again, you wonder where Seokjin is. He should be here soon. The beach is crowded today. The weather finally nice enough and the water clear and warm. It was a miracle that you’d managed to get your bench when you’d arrived. But someone had just been leaving when you’d gotten here and you’d quickly jogged over to take it before someone else could snatch it. It seemed like the perfect place to see what your future held.

Seokjin appears suddenly, panting like he ran the whole way here. Which, given the sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead, is a good possibility. He still looks handsome, more so when he sends you a brilliant grin.

“You got our bench!”

Returning his smile, you send him a wink. “I had to fight an old lady for it.”

He presses a quick kiss to your lips as he sits down, brandishing his letter. “How do you want to do this?”

Chewing your lip, you think it over. “I don’t think I can open it.”

His eyes soften and he takes your hand. He can read you so well. “No matter what happens, we’ll always have each other.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “How about we open each other’s?”

Reluctantly, you nod. Would it really be better to see that he got in while still not knowing if you got in too? Swapping letters, you stare down at his name spelled out in ink. You know he got in. There’s no way he didn’t. Seokjin nudges you and you look up.

“Count of three?” You nod. “Okay… 3…”

“2…”

“1…”

Seokjin is a little faster in tearing open the envelope than you are but you keep your gaze firmly downcast, watching as your fingers tear open the paper with meticulous care. You skim his letter quickly.

Congratulations.

He got in. Joy swells in you and you look up with a grin, momentarily forgetting your own letter. Your smile quickly falters though when you see the flat look on Seokjin’s face as he stares down at your letter and your heart sinks.

Tugging his hand to get his attention, you give him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s okay. You said-”

“You got in.”

You blink. His words swirling around your head but not fully registering. “What?”

He envelops you in a massive hug, laughing with joy. “You got in! Baby, you did it!”

You still feel a little dumbfounded, but you’re quickly filling with excitement. “You too! Jinnie, you got in too!”

He pulls back and presses a long kiss to your lips. His eyes look suspiciously wet, but you decide not to comment. You’re positive that your’s are probably a little wet too. “The next four years are going to be amazing.”

He had been so optimistic back then. You could use some of that optimism now.

You hadn’t originally planned on cutting out of work early, especially not to come here of all places. There were some designs that you needed to work on, a few ideas that you had that you wanted to get sketched up to show to Hoseok. But when you’d been walking through the common area during lunch, you’d overheard a couple of people gathered around a computer gushing about the Kim Seokjin wearing one of Hoseok’s designs.

It’s definitely not the first time. Hoseok knew Seokjin in university when you knew him too, although you were always closer to him since you shared a lot of classes, and obviously a shared love of fashion. But the two were friendly and remained so afterward, but on a more acquaintanceship basis. The break up clearly divided some friendships, though you hated that it happened. You didn’t want anyone to feel like they had to stop being friends with either of you just because you two were no longer dating.

You know it’s not the first time Hoseok has designed something for Seokjin. And normally, him wearing one of Hoseok’s designs wouldn’t bother you too much. Both because it’s good for Hoseok because Hoseok is a genius and deserves it, but because it’s also really good for your label in general in terms of good press. Though you know Hoseok sometimes slips your designs into things that get sent to him. You saw one of your jackets ended up at an award show.

Idle chatter about Seokjin around the office isn’t that new. You suppose that’s one of the downsides to being in an industry that is very closely tied to idols and actors and actresses. It’s not an uncommon occurrence to hear them gossip about him, he’s one of the most popular drama actors currently and everyone loves to gush about how handsome and funny he is. They find it odd that you’ll talk about anyone with them except him. They leave it be much easier now, but in the beginning they still tried to include you.

You’ve even dealt easily with the dating rumors. All the pretty actresses he’s supposedly dating. And why wouldn’t he? He’s gorgeous and talented and so, so kind. Any woman would be lucky to have him. You’ve been on the receiving end of his love. You know how easy it is to fall.

If your coworkers knew that you’d dated him in the past, they would think you were crazy to let him go. And maybe be a little jealous and probably pepper you with questions about him. You definitely are thankful they don’t know because the way some of them gossip about their own sex lives, they’d beg for details about a celebrity’s from first hand experience.

Excitement fills you as you sit in the airport. It’s finally summer. Your first year of college is behind you and you now get to spend two whole weeks with Seokjin in Jeju. Well Seokjin and his family. But they were kind enough to let the two of you have your own little place on the island. Well it was more of just the guest house to the main house they, along with Seokjin’s brother, would be staying at.

This will likely be the only big summer trip you both take during college. Seokjin had originally planned to not go. More content to work all summer and save up money so the two of you could get an apartment off campus. His parents had offered to pay for a place, but Seokjin was adamant that the two of you wanted to do this for yourselves.

You’d try to hide your disappointment about not going, but he knows you far too well and caved quickly to saying one trip wouldn’t hurt his independence. So now here you were, ready to fly out to Jeju. You haven’t been since you were little and you were excited that you got to go back and this time with Seokjin.

The flight is quick and uneventful and Seokjin gets a taxi to take you to the beach house, his parents having arrived a few days prior.

The main house is beautiful, but you’re more excited to see where you’ll be staying. The outside of the guest house looks like a miniature version of the main one. Inside, it’s spacious, all one room with an attached bathroom. The bed is separated from the living area by an ornate partition painted with a starry nightscape. The moon is painted in such gorgeous detail that you’re tempted to tell Seokjin you want to steal the partition when you leave.

The living area is simple, a plush sofa and matching chair set facing a wall mounted TV. A small, well-stocked minibar is pressed against one wall. Around the partition and into the sleeping area is a large bed facing a set of french doors that open out onto a small deck that leads right down to the beach in two steps.

Flopping onto the bed with a giddy giggle, you watch as Seokjin sets his bag down and gives you a fond smile.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You squirm back slightly, coy smile stretching your lips. “I don’t know. The bed seems kind of empty.”

He chuckles, sitting on the bed and tugging you into his lap. “Better?”

Humming, you press a kiss to his lips. “Much.”

When you go to pull away, he follows, capturing your lips in another, deeper kiss. “We don’t… have… a lot of time…” he murmurs between kisses.

You give a vague affirmative, only half listening to his words in favor of pressing him back into the mattress. His parents can wait, you have some important business first.

The night air is cool, the french doors left open, gauzy curtains shifting in the gentle breeze. Shifting onto his side, Seokjin presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, soft and unhurried. It’s only been a couple of days since you’ve been here. But it’s been utter bliss, especially after the exhaustion from finals.

You nudge the sheet lower down your bodies and press closer to him. Tonight seems like the perfect time for something soft and unhurried. A perfect time to really connect again. No hurrying because of classes, or roommates, or meetings. No papers to worry about.

Just you and Seokjin. In a plush bed with a cool, ocean breeze enveloping you. If you peek through the curtains, you can just make out the shape of the moon, the illumination making Seokjin glow before you.

He’s already bared to you. Both of you showering off the ocean water from an evening dip and simply crawling into bed together afterwards. The TV is off, the only sounds filling the room is the rustle of the sheets as you move and the lapping of the waves on the shore. You dare not speak and break the peaceful atmosphere and Seokjin seems to be on the same wavelength.

Neither of you need to speak to know how to move around each other here. He cups your face, such a gentle caress, like you’re the most fragile and beautiful thing he’s ever held. It makes you feel cherished. He leans closer and time seems to slow down with the press of his plush lips to yours. He takes his time kissing you, so slowly like you have the rest of eternity for just this moment.

Pushing you onto your back, Seokjin cages you in, enveloping you in the safe blanket of his embrace. His scent is overwhelming like this, you could drown in it. His hips press into yours, cock not fully hard yet, but that doesn’t matter. This is about taking your time with each other. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands sliding from his neck up into his hair.

The strands are a little dried out, a combination of the salty ocean water and the fresh bleaching it got. His parents hated it at first, but he defended it as just college experimentation. It’s supposed to be a time of discovery and why not try different hair colors. He’s unfairly attractive with the bleach blonde, just as handsome as his natural brunette. You know he plans to dye it another color. But he’s yet to tell you what it’ll be.

You give his hair a light tug, relishing the sigh he releases against your lips.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Just you.”

“You always have me.”

Seokjin nudges your thighs apart as he kisses across your jaw and down your neck. Trailing across your collarbones, he leaves a line nips down to your sternum. His hands slide up your sides till they meet your breasts, fingers cupping the soft flesh as he peppers kisses across the expanse of your chest. He traces one nipple with his tongue, teasing the bud to stiffness with each swipe. He moves on to the other one, changing it up and using his teeth this time. The air fills with your soft moans, blending with the waves outside.

Moving lower, Seokjin kisses your belly, taking his time to touch every little mark across your skin. Pleasure simmers in your belly, every nerve burns like a live wire. Over all that, you feel loved. Absolutely worshiped as Seokjin presses a kiss to your mound with such reverence that you think he might convert right here and now.

Seokjin eats you out just as slowly and thoroughly as he kissed you. He savors you with each swipe of his tongue, every suck, every twist of his fingers. Seokjin plays your pleasure like a fine-tuned instrument, drawing you ever so slowly to the edge. Your fingers thread through his hair once more, not to be demanding, but for the sake of feeling grounded. His tongue laps at you like you’re a ten course meal and he wants to savor every single morsel. When you chance a glance down at him, his eyes are closed, handsome face, what you can see of it at least, smoothed out in utter bliss.

When you finally cum, it feels like sinking into pure euphoria. Seokjin drags it out for so long and so gently that you cum a second time. Though you’re so lost in sensation that maybe it’s still the first orgasm.

Pushing himself to his knees, his face glistens with your slick and you feel bereft with the distance suddenly between you. You reach out for him and he falls right into you, lips crashing against yours as his cock presses against your pussy. But you need more than that and you squirm, drawing a chuckle from deep in his chest.

“Impatient…” he murmurs.

But despite his teasing, he shifts until the tip of his cock catches your hole and he slides in with languid push. You sigh his name and he answers with a nod, lips brushing your neck as he pulls back and starts a slow, almost lazy, rhythm. You cling to him, nearly delirious with pleasure.

Nudging Seokjin, you pull him in for a kiss of your own. “I love you.”

He groans into your mouth. “Fuck… I love you too. So much.”

You lose track of time, your pace unhurried. Seokjin cums at some point and the two of you lay facing each other and exchanging soft kisses until you drift off to sleep.

You whine as Seokjin slips his cock into you. He’s been teasing you all day on the beach. At one point while you were in the water with him, his fingers slipped beneath your suit to tease along your pussy. You’d nearly screamed at the sudden sensation, but Seokjin had merely laughed and floated out of your reach, sending you a wink as he licked his finger. The second you returned to your room from dinner he was on you. This is so different from the other night. Somewhere in between the rushed couplings in the dorms and the slow, soft sex from then. It feels just as good, a little rough, fun, light. Perfect.

Seokjin grins cockily above you. “I barely did anything and you’re so wet for me, baby.”

Huffing, you try to kick at him, but he easily pins your leg down. He tuts and delivers a thrust that jostles you up the bed and draws a gasp from you. He looks entirely too pleased with himself.

Before you can formulate any other sort of retaliation, the sound of voices catches your attention. Glancing to the side shows that neither of you shut the french doors. The voices don’t sound close, but they are near enough for you to hear. It’s not too strange, the beach is there for anyone. But it’s the first night that anyone has been out there, at least close enough for you to be able to hear from your bed. Music soon follows the voices. A party.

Unbidden, the thought of someone breaking away from the party, coming down the beach this way and passing by the open doors has you clenching around Seokjin. He gasps at the sudden tightness, blinking down at where you’re connected. Licking his lips, he follows your gaze and a moment later, you see realization cross his features.

His resulting grin is downright dangerous. “What’s got you going, baby? Hm?”

Swallowing, you turn back to him, blocking out the voices. You will not give him the satisfaction. “Nothing.”

Fingers digging into your hips, Seokjin glances towards the doors again. He gives a harsh thrust that pulls a startle moan from you. “Nothing, huh? I don’t think that’s true.” He turns back to you and there’s a dark look in his eyes. “I think that you want someone to walk by and see us. That the idea of being caught is exciting.”

You scoff, deliberately turning your face away from the doors. “I’m actually bored and thinking about what we’re doing tomorrow.”

Seokjin blinks at you for a moment before chuckling darkly. “Is that right?” You nod. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

It sounds like a threat and a challenge. And you’re never one to back down from a challenge. “Well in the morning, we’re meeting your parents for brunch…”

Seokjin’s tongue presses against his cheek as he slams his cock into you. It would force you up the bed if not for his bruising grip on your hips keeping you firmly pinned in place, forced to take the full brunt of his cock spliting you open.

But you’re just as stubborn as him. “Then we’re going… to the spa… oh my g-god… you… you made… p-plans for lunch…”

Every few words you stutter out are punctuated by another harsh thrust. Your legs are pushed towards your chest and his next thrust has his cock rubbing along your g-spot and for a second, your mind blanks on what’s happening, pleasure so sudden and searing that you forget everything but the full feel of Seokjin’s cock inside you. He starts to grin then, victoriously, and that pulls you out of it just enough to continue, gritting your teeth as he continues to fuck you.

“Said you had… a surprise… then we were going to… oh, fuck… gonna go to t-town… buy some… gifts… Seokjin, please…”

He grins. “Gonna admit what you were thinking about?”

One hand leaves your legs, thumb brushing your clit and your resolve crumbles with your rising desire to cum.

“Fuck… yes! I want someone to walk by. See you fucking me, making me cum, making me feel good… Seokjin, please…” you whine out.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

His rough thrusts pick up again. This time accompanied by the rhythmic movements on his fingers on your clit. Your orgasm builds quickly and leaves you breathless as Seokjin forces you over the edge. You cry out, heedless of the volume of your voice. If anything, the thought of someone hearing how Seokjin makes you feel makes you shudder with pleasure.

Seokjin groans, hands dropping to the bed as he chases his own orgasm, smothering his moan of your name against your shoulder.

When he’s caught his breath, he raises his head, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “So… exhibitionism, huh?”

The stories you had are probably worth a lot. Which is why you keep them to yourself. No one but you and Seokjin need to know those details. Especially not some of the more nosy people you work with. Hoseok thankfully played along with only knowing him on a professional level and not that you all went to university together.

It’s typically pretty easy to just ignore the chatter when it comes up about him. But a couple days ago, you had a dream about him. One that after you woke up, you couldn’t recall almost anything about it. Except his face and the heavy feeling in your heart. His smile was burned into your mind and has left you feeling off since then. The mention of him today combined with the weird feeling brought back a whole slew of memories and things you had thought you’d long since moved past. To the point that you made the decision to leave work to work early because you were so confused. Why you were suddenly feeling like this about someone who you thought you’ve been over for more than 10 years.

You never thought you’d be here back in university. Together with Seokjin. You both had thought you’d be together forever, whispered together about getting married, about the future. The things you’d do and the places you’d go to.

The arm around your bare waist tightens, a firm chest pressing into your back.

“What’re you thinking about, baby?” Seokjin murmurs into the skin of your shoulder.

You chew your lip nervously before shifting in his grip so that you’re now facing each other. You’ve been thinking about a lot of things as freshman year draws to a close. All of them lead back to Seokjin.

The afternoon sunlight peeks in through the curtains, casting golden light across him and the dormroom. It’s an odd time to be in bed together, but it’s one of the only moments that you both have free and there’s no dormmates around to bother or have to kick out. Though you know Yoongi, Seokjin’s roommate and faux reluctant friend, would give you both the space if you asked. You don’t want to be the person that kicks him out constantly, so for now, you both are content to steal some free moments during the day when Yoongi has classes. Maybe next year you can think about getting a little place off campus together. A place both for you guys and maybe for your friends to visit and hang out at.

You think Seokjin looks the most beautiful under the afternoon light regardless. Seokjin pecks your nose, drawing your attention back to him and his question that remains unanswered. You feel a little nervous bringing up what you were thinking about. But the two of you have been together for almost 3 years. You should be able to bring it up to him.

Swallowing your slight nerves, you finally speak. “Was just… thinking about the future…”

His answering smile is warm and gentle and you feel like the world could crumble around you and you would be safe here in his arms. “I hope I’m there.”

Giggling, you press a kiss to his lips. “Of course. I can’t imagine a future without such a handsome man on my arm while I attend extravagant parties and get all the jealous stares to be dating someone so much younger than me.”

Gasping with as much drama as you expect from him, Seokjin falls onto his back, hands clutched over his chest. “I can’t believe this! The truth has finally come out! You’re only with me for my youthful looks!”

Fond smile growing, you settle your hand over his as he continues a dramatic monologue about the ultimate betrayal. You wish he would listen to you about changing his major. You know he’d love being an acting major much more than he currently is in his business major classes. A major he’s in only to appease his family.

Finally tired of his dramatics, you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, effectively silencing him. “I love you,” you murmur against his lips.

You wonder when he changed his degree. Or if he ever did. You know plenty of people who go into acting without the degree and Seokjin certainly had the inherent talent to do it. It would be easy to verify if you just looked him up. Someone who’s so in the spotlight now would certainly have his degree information online. But you don’t want to do that. You wonder how invasive that must be. Although you and Hoseok are beginning to get that popular too, you wonder if those sorts of things will begin to happen to you. You can’t imagine you’d be very interesting to follow around.

Truthfully, you don’t know what would be worse in regards to the fate of Seokjin’s degree. If he had done what you had told him all along and changed his major after you two broke up, or if he had decided to follow his dreams even if he didn’t have the degree for it. It’s undeniable that it hurts either way. The first time you’d seen him in a trailer had sent you spiraling in a way that you hadn’t since the breakup.

There’s a pounding at the door, but you can’t find it in yourself to get off the couch. The TV is still on the channel it had been on last night and you’re still sat in the same place as then. Honestly, you only know that it’s at least morning because there’s light streaming in through the windows and when you had seen the trailer it had definitely been evening.

You had been watching some show, whatever you landed on first that seemed at least mildly entertaining, while eating dinner. A quick break from the sketches that are scattered across your coffee table. Sketches that could lead to your first big contract.

But your peaceful and exciting night of work had been interrupted when you’d seen a preview for a new drama. A new drama with Kim Seokjin. It had been crushing to see. You had been telling him to do that for so long. To the point that it became one of the contributing factors in your seemingly inevitable breakup.

It seems then that the problem was never with whether or not he would follow his dreams after graduation. It was just if you would be there with him. You cried when you saw it, a vice of bitterness around your heart that while you don’t get to celebrate with him, you’re so happy that he’s doing what he loves. You’re fairly certain you stopped sometime around midnight, though the night was a little hazy as your thoughts circled around one thing. How he hadn’t wanted you there with him.

The banging at your door stops at some point, though you don’t know how long they kept it up for. And then your door is suddenly being shoved open, banging against the wall and there’s two sets of footsteps moving quickly into the apartment. You hear a muffled ‘fuck’ and then you’re being enveloped in a hug.

It takes only a moment for you to realize who it is, the orange-y scent of Jimin’s favorite cologne washing over you. Your breath stutters then, it hurts to breathe so you bury your face in his chest and his arms tighten around you. He murmurs comforting words and someone else sits behind you, hand gently rubbing your back.

Eventually, you calm down and you pull away to give Jimin a weak smile, one that you direct to Hoseok as well when you see him behind you. Jimin returns with a pained smile of his own.

“You saw, huh?” You nod and Jimin sighs. “I had hoped that you wouldn’t see it last night. It’s what I was planning to tell you at dinner tonight. So you could be prepared for it. I’m so sorry I waited to tell you.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, you have nothing to apologize for.” You rub your neck. “I… I didn’t think I would react quite like this… It’s been 3 years. You worked so hard to help me out of that dark place-”

Jimin puts a hand over your mouth, cutting you off. “No, you worked hard to get yourself out of that dark place. I was just there to hold your hand. It was a tough breakup. It’s understandable if there’s occasionally things that bring that heartache back up.”

You nod slowly, not fully believing his assertion that he just held your hand post break up. You probably would’ve dropped out of university after the breakup if you hadn’t met Jimin. You look between him and Jimin. “H-how did you know to come?”

Hoseok gives a sheepish grin. “You didn’t show up to work and I got worried. I texted Jimin on my way here and he seemed to know exactly what had happened.”

“Now that we’re here. How about I go get all of us some junk food and you two find something trashy for us to binge?”

After that, it got much easier to see him on your screen. Or on screens in the train stations. Or plastered on ads and billboards.

It helped you actually, to finally, truly move on from him. A sort of immersion therapy to numb you to his face. You didn’t need him to be happy. You loved your budding design business with Hoseok, clubbing with Jimin, dating both casually and more seriously. It all got easier with time and you’re grateful for the friends that you have. Your friends have always been there for you, even back then.

Your first birthday after the breakup was rough. Seokjin always planned something elaborate and thoughtful. There would be none of that this year. You went to work in the morning, gave your coworkers a fake smile as they wished you a happy birthday with a cupcake in the breakroom before you opened the cafe. It was sweet of them to do, but the breakup was still far too recent for you to truly enjoy anything like this.

Jimin had night classes so you would have the evening alone. You at least had your own room now instead of sleeping on Jimin’s couch in his old apartment. You had protested his plan to move to a two bedroom apartment for you both to share so you could have your own space. You knew on your meager wages you’d never be able to help with rent at such a large place. You and Seokjin had barely been able to afford your studio together.

But Jimin insisted. He had more than enough to cover rent and you could just save your money. Or buy groceries and cook. He hated cooking, could do it just fine but was too impatient for it. It seemed like incredibly inadequate compensation for him giving you a place to live, but he just smiled and said that’s what friends do for each other. You had cried and he teased you afterward and then made you buy him ice cream. But you agreed to moving and letting him help.

And it was nice to have your own room. It was great to live with Jimin. He was the sweetest and seemed to always know exactly what you needed. Hoseok visited often too, though you don’t know if he was coming to see you or Jimin more some days, and the three of you worked hard to get through your last year of university. Together.

But with Jimin in classes tonight, the apartment would be empty. You didn’t really feel like cooking either. So you’d probably just have some ramen. If you could even be bothered to eat to begin with. You freeze when you get to your floor, brows knit in confusion when you see a beautiful bouquet of red and yellow lilies, interspersed with sheep sorrels. The vase is a glossy deep blue, splashes of purples and pinks and speckles of white paint of soft starry night.

You wonder who they’re for. They must have been left at the wrong door. You carefully look through the petals for a card, finding the glossy little square quickly. Tears gather in your eyes when you see the little cartoon cat head sketched into the blank area of the card. It’s a little cruder than you’re used to seeing, the ear slightly misshapen, the cheeks a little too chunky, the lines a little unsure.

But it’s unmistakably Yoongi’s cat doodle. Meaning he must have dropped these off for you, even though you and Seokjin have broken up. And you’re not even sure if he knew where your new place was. You’d have to thank him soon for them. It makes the day a little less rough to have something so pretty. To know someone was thinking of you.

You never did get the chance to thank him properly for the gift. At least directly. You’d taken him a coffee, a few days later, as thanks. He’d looked a little confused but never questioned or made you say anything out loud. Which you’re grateful for. Just because you and Seokjin split up, didn’t mean you and Yoongi couldn’t still be on friendly terms. Though you haven’t properly talked to him in quite a while. Maybe you should ask him to meet up soon. See how he’s been doing.

But even with all the progress you’ve made and all that your friends have done for you, you still have the occasional bad day. Looking back on it, it had been years since you had one that affected you enough that you had to take off work specifically in regards to Seokjin. You’re really not sure what made it seem like the beach, this beach was the best place to go. But there was just something that called you here.

For as painful as the breakup was, Seokjin was your first love. He was amazing while you were together. Always loving and supportive. Even when things started to fall apart.

With a groan, you push the apartment door open, giving a harder shove when it gets jammed. Like it always does and your landlord refuses to do a thing about it. The lights are off when you finally get the door shut and your heart sinks. Seokjin was supposed to be home. You haven’t seen him for more than a few minutes in the last week. This was going to finally be the night you spent together. Throwing your bag down, you flick the lights on, seeing the cramped studio apartment is indeed empty. You pull your phone out, seeing if maybe he just ran out for something or if he was running late, but there’s nothing.

You try not to let your disappointment consume you and instead grab your sketchbook from the shelf and decide to get some sketches done while you wait, hoping, probably vainly, that Seokjin will be back soon.

You jerk awake to the sound of the door slamming and when you blink blearily at the clock, it’s nearly midnight. You turn to watch as Seokjin kicks his shoes off, weariness written in his posture.

“Hey,” you croak and Seokjin gives no indication that he heard you. “Where were you?”

Seokjin straightens and sighs before turning to you. There’s a dead look in his eye that you’ve never seen before, let alone had directed at you. “Out.”

For all that you had been sad or worried, anger and confusion surges through you at his complete disregard. “Out? You could’ve texted. We were supposed to have a night in together.”

His jaw tightens and he drops his bag beside yours before moving towards the bathroom, the only place in this shithole with a door. “I had to study.”

And before you can say anything else, the bathroom door is slammed shut behind him. You stare at it incredulously. He can’t be serious. You’re just as stressed as he is. Finals are creeping in and along with that is planning for senior year. At the rate you’re going, summer is going to be unbearable.

You sigh, shaking the memories away. You don’t want to dwell on the bad anymore. Even if the breakup was crushing, the good times were amazing. With the sun finally below the horizon, the moon takes its place, casting cool white light across the beach. And with it, comes the peace of being alone. You let the sound of the waves lull your thoughts to silence.

But the sound of footsteps pulls your attention, confused because the beach is basically deserted at this time, the chill brought in with the moon driving most people inside. Your breath catches in your throat when you see Seokjin standing not far from you. The wind blows his hair from his face and he looks tired. A little older, but still just as handsome as he was in university.

There’s no way that this is happening. You must be dreaming. That’s right. This is just another dream. A weird continuation of the one from a couple of days ago. Seokjin isn’t really here. Not at the same time as you. Not when there’s no one around. Not when your heart feels vulnerable and you can admit that you maybe really, really miss him. Sometimes.

But the chill from the wind feels real. The wood biting into your palms where your grip has tightened on the bench feels real. He looks real and handsome and devastating. Every bit like the man who stole your heart in high school and broke it in college. Who loved to make sure his loved ones were always laughing. Who had such a flair for dramatics that it was never a surprise that he’s such a popular and talented actor.

The jacket wrapped around his shoulders is unmistakably yours. A silly, casual design that you had done but never put into a collection cause there was never one it fit. You had sewn it on a whim, the idea eating away at you until you made it, settled the itch in your fingers. There’s only one way that Seokjin could’ve gotten that.

Hoseok.

Have they been talking more than Hoseok let on?

Seokjin hasn’t noticed you yet and you’re wondering if you’d be able to slip away without having him notice you when he turns and freezes. He seems just as surprised and blindsided to see you as you are to see him. You stare at each other and it feels like an eternity and a million conversations pass between you both. He swallows and closes the short distance between you both and tentatively takes a seat beside you.

He looks nervous when he turns towards you. Clearing his throat after a moment, he sticks his hand out, tentative smile on his face. “Hi, I’m Kim Seokjin.”

You almost laugh. It’s such a him thing to do. As if you would ever forget him. Seokjin left a scar on your heart, you’d carry a little piece of him for the rest of your life.

But the introduction feels like more than a way to break the tension. There’s a question hiding in his innocuous words. Is this okay? Can I be here? Can we be in each other’s lives again?

Most importantly, it feels like a fresh start. A new chapter. You and Seokjin are different people now. You’re both successful. You’ve grown, matured, learned. You’re no longer the starry-eyed, hopeful kids in college. Full of dreams and hopes, but with so little experience.

Who knows, maybe there won’t even be romantic feelings between you anymore. Maybe you’ll just end up friends.

But maybe this new start is what you both need. The sun may have set on your relationship in the past, but maybe it was just what you both needed to let the sun rise now. Something new, and exciting, but still a little bit familiar.

You take his hand with a smile. “Hi, Kim Seokjin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

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itsnothesameasitwas · 3 years

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hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

#friends to lovers #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hljournal #hlsource #my fic rec #larry fic rec #themed fic rec #long post #this a REAL LONG POST #sorry but yk...#fics can't wait heheh #when I was looking for fics through what I have read I noticed this is one of those tropes I barely read #but I’m always willing to read :)#hope it helps:D #ask #louisloverera

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viking-raider · 3 years

Text

Southern Generation - Part VI

Summary: Sy officially moves in with Lily and they go on a road trip to make amends.

Pairing: Austin Syverson/OFC (Lily)

Word Count: 11,965

Warning: PG-13 - Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Oral - F Receiving, Drama, Pregnancy Cravings

Inspiration: Syverson is OP

Author's Note: Thanks to the wonderful @wondersofdreaming

Author's Note 2: Make sure to follow and turn on the notifications for my Tag List blog @viking-raider-taglist to stay up to date on this and all my other stories!

“That's the last of them.” Sy smiled, setting the last box of his stuff down.

With Lily pregnant and them making their relationship official, Sy moved all of his stuff from his Austin apartment into the farmhouse with Lily.

“Well, officially.” Lily replied, resting her hands on her hips and looking up at him. “Welcome home.” She smiled, giddy and proud.

“Thanks, Darling.” He grinned back, cupping her face and kissed her.

Lily smiled, as she woke up from her nap, feeling the warm and heavy weight of Sy's body in bed with her, his head in its customary place, on her chest. She usually woke up from her naps with Sy, whether or not he was with her, when she fell asleep or not. Sighing and moaning softly, she lifted her hand to twist the short, curling ends of his hair between her fingertips.

“Hm.” Sy hummed softly, rubbing his scruffy face against her chest and hugging his arms tighter around her middle, thumb stroking her tummy.

“I'm surprised at you.” Lily whispered, still playing with his hair.

“Why?” Sy moaned back, turning his head to look up at her.

“When I first met you, I half wondered what your hair would look like if you let it grow out.” She explained, running her fingers through it.

“Oh?” He chuckled, smirking at her.

“Yeah.” She blushed at him. “But, I just didn't expect the Bear, Austin Syverson, would have curls.” She grinned at him, twisting the ends of his hair between her fingers, she loved his developing curls.

“My hair hasn't been this long in ten years.” Sy laughed, blushing and biting his lip. “I've been thinking about cutting it again.”

“I will end you, Wyatt.” Lily threatened, touching the tip of her finger to his nose.

“Oh, busting out the middle name and everything.” He smirked, taking a playful snap at the tip of her finger. “Lily?” He whispered, biting the inside of his lip as he stared into her eyes.

“What?” She replied, tilting her head at him.

“Have you thought about going back?” Sy murmured, brow creasing. “Back to Middleburg, to see your grandparents. Jak isn't a threat anymore. I'm sure they would love to see you and I'd bet my life, you want to see them again. Especially now, with the baby on the way.”

Lily pressed her lips together, resting her hands on Sy's shoulders. “It would be nice to see them again.” She answered, after a long pause.

“But?” He pressed, sensing it coming next.

“What if they don't want to see me?” She asked, searching his eyes for comfort, and found it. “What if they don't want me in their life anymore?”

Sy took a deep breath, sitting up as he did, and brought Lily up with him. “Then, that's their loss.” He told her, folding her up in his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead. “If they don't want you in their life, then they are missing out on knowing one of the most amazing gals, who can light up a room, simply by walking into it.”

“You're just buttering me up, Austin.” Lily mumbled into his neck.

“Woman, have I ever lied to you?” Sy grinned into her hair.

“No.” She chuckled, blushing shyly.

“I don't intend to now, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her temple. “But, you won't know their reaction, unless you go and see them.” He added, softer.

“I know.” She whispered back, leaning against his chest. “You're right. I owe it to them and myself.”

“Whatever choice you make, I'll support you, every step of the way.” Sy told her, gently tipping her head back and tenderly kissed her.

“I think I want to go see them.” Lily said, later that night, while she and Sy sat at the dinner table.

Sy looked up from his plate of spaghetti and garlic bread, slowly lowering his fork. “All right.” He nodded, straightening his back and giving her his full attention. “When do you wanna go?”

“The sooner, the better, I think.” She mumbled, shifting in her seat, her own dinner mostly untouched.

Sy nodded his head again, quietly regarding Lily from across the table. He could see the worried and fearful anxiety on her face, still mulling over every worst case scenario about seeing her grandparents again, he could almost see every one of them tick by her eyes. Afraid that her grandparents would disown her, the moment they laid eyes on her. Blaming her for what transpired with Jak. Afraid of what their reaction would be, when she showed up at their door, after five years of silence, pregnant with the baby of man they had never heard of or met before, especially since they were incredibly religious.

He reached across the table, just in time to catch the tear that escaped and started to slip down her cheek, then rested his hand over hers. “No matter what happens, Lily. You still have me.” He told her, lovingly.

“You still have us.”

Lily grasped Sy's hand and tried to smile at him and not cry at the same time, which was hard with the way her hormones were starting to really get out of control. “I know.” She choked back.

“Let me finish painting the rest of the house and go to your twelve week baby appointment on Friday, then we'll pack a bag and ourselves into the car and drive out there.” He told her, making a game plan, so her frazzled and tired mind could relax.

“It's only a twenty-ish hour drive.”

“I think, that's a good idea.” Lily nodded, chewing on her lip, taking deep breaths.

Sy smiled and squeezed her hand. “Good.” He chuckled and let her hand go, before picking his fork back up and dug into his spaghetti.

Sy double checked his large, Army issued duffel bag, making sure he and Lily had enough clothing, he had her zofran, nausea medicine, and prenatal vitamin, along with everything else he, Lily and Aika would need for the almost nineteen hour drive from Celina to Middleburg, Virginia, having already put her pregnancy pillow in the car, before tugging the bag closed, slung it over his shoulder and went downstairs.

“Billie promised to keep an eye on the place and pick up the mail for us.” Lily said, meeting him in the entryway hall.

“Great.” He smiled. “Well, I got all our stuff packed.” He said, jostling the duffel bag.

“I already packed some snacks in the truck too.”

“Then, we're all set!”

“No, I have to pee, one more time.” Lily giggled, and rushed into the half bath.

Sy laughed, shaking his head and took the duffel bag out to the truck, dropping it in the back seat with Aika. “All set?” He asked as Lily came out of the house.

“I am now!” She nodded, crossing the yard to the truck and got into the passenger seat.

“Did you lock up?” He asked, getting in with her.

“Yep.”

“You good, Aika?” Sy asked, looking to the German Shepherd, who let out a loud bark. “All right, let's get this road trip underway!” He pulled up Google Maps on his phone and entered the address to Lily's grandparents' place, then set the device on its dock and started the truck.

Sy and Lily laughed, as they sang along to a song that came on Sy's playlist that they both liked, Enemies by Shinedown. But, Sy turned the song down, when Lily suddenly stopped singing and quickly identified the look she got just before she threw up. Quickly popping open the center console, Sy reached inside of it and pulled out a circular, blue and white object and opened it, holding it out to her. Lily took it from him, without question and threw up in it, once or twice.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, looking at it, realizing it was a hospital-grade nausea bag. “Did you rob a hospital?” She chuckled, looking over at him.

“No.” He laughed back at her. “I bought them off Amazon. I wasn't sure if you got car sick on long rides or not. But, I was sure the baby would make you nauseous, at least, once on the drive. So, I wanted to be prepared and make you as comfortable as possible in the process.”

Lily tied the used bag closed, then opened the center console and found another twenty-plus of the blue emesis bags inside. She smiled up at him, shaking her head in disbelief of his utter and complete thoughtful and preparedness.

“You never cease to amaze me, Austin.” She said, sitting back up. “You see how amazing your Daddy is.” Lily grinned, looking at her belly, and making Sy blush.

“Well, I gotta take care of ya, don't I?” He smirked, resting his hand on her thigh.

“Yeah, I suppose.” She sighed, smirking back at him.

“There's some Listerine strips in the center console, by the way.” Sy added, after a few quiet moments.

“I'm sorry, am I offending you?” Lily giggled, opening the console again and fished around for them, before finding the small blue case.

“No, no.” He grinned, chuckling. “Just figured you'd want to get the taste out of your mouth.” He explained, finally getting them on the interstate highway.

“Did you pack my nausea meds?” Lily asked, feeling another wave wash over her.

“Yeah. It's in our bag.” Sy nodded, brow creasing, as he tried to figure out what stupid shenanigans the car in front of them was up too.

Lily twisted in her seat and pulled the worn green bag between the front seats, tugging it open and riffled through it, until she found the little prescription bottle of tiny, white oval tablets, then turned back around. She removed one of the pills and cracked open one of the two bottles of Voss water in the cup holders and downed the pill.

“Why don't you rest?” Sy suggested, reaching behind her seat for her pregnancy pillow. “It's just going to be annoying highway stuff for a while.” He said, giving her the pillow.

“I don't want you to get lonely.” Lily protested, maneuvering and situating the U-shaped pillow into a comfortable position.

Sy smiled over at her. “I'll be fine, Angel.” He assured her. “If I get lonely, I'll talk to Aika and we'll play the quiet game.” He chuckled, looking at the dog from the rear view mirror. “I'll wake you up around one, and we'll find some little place to have lunch.”

“If you're sure.” Lily yawned, she was usually already in the middle of a nap by now.

“Positive, Sweetness.” He nodded, turning the heat on a bit to make sure she was kept warm.

Lily contorted her body in her seat, drawing up her legs and propping her head and the curve of her pillow against the window, wrapping her arms around it and hugging it against her body, before dozing off to sleep. Sy reached out and rested his hand on her leg, gently massaging it as he kept his eyes on the road, just listening to the hum of the tires on the worn asphalt of Interstate Forty fill the silent cabin of the truck; Aika curled up on the backseat. The quiet boredom of the road allowed the devil to whisper into Sy's ear.

He wasn't sure what to do, if Lily's grandparents, the people that raised her, rejected her, and not only her, but their great grand-baby, his child. He knew he had to be strong for Lily, it would crush her, if they wanted nothing to do with her and the baby, but Sy wasn't so sure he would be able to keep himself under control. He had a feeling he would end up giving the couple a very big piece of his mind, before bringing Lily back home to Celina.

“It'll be fine.” He said aloud, glancing over at Lily. “It'll be all right.” He assured her sleeping form, leaning over just enough to lay his hand on her belly.

Sy found a turn off into Memphis just before one in the afternoon, parking at a small riverfront park in downtown Memphis, giving Lily a quiet place to wake up and all three of them a place to stretch their legs, and Aika a place to pee.

“Hey.” Sy called, softly, shutting off the car and leaning across the console. “Lily. Wake up, baby.” He cooed at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Hey, sweet pea.” He grinned, watching her eyes slowly flutter open, blinking at the bright sunlight glittering off the murky river water.

“Where are we?” She asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her cheek against the microfiber cover of her pillow.

“The home of the King, Memphis Tennessee.” Sy chuckled, teasingly, and kissed her again. “So, love me tender.”

“I'm all shook up.” Lily chuckled, unfolding herself and sitting up in her seat.

“Well, it's now or never, baby doll.” Sy roared, his head going back.

“Oh, don't be cruel.”

“But, I can't help fallin' in love.” He chimed back.

“What now, my love?” Lily asked, smirking at him.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” Sy commented, finding more and more of them every day. “But, I thought we'd get some fresh air and stretch our legs, I'm sure Aika has to pee. Then, we'll find some lunch.”

“I like that idea.” Lily nodded, pushing her pillow into the back seat, then climbed out of the truck, taking the used nausea bag with her to throw away, while Sy put Aika on her leash.

Sy took Lily by the hand and strolled down the little sidewalk along the riverside, watching the various types of boats go by them on the water. The weather was nice and warm with pleasant enough humidity, a few clouds floating in the baby blue sky.

“Are you craving anything specific?” Sy asked as they patiently waited for Aika to do her business in the grass beside them.

“Hmm.” Lily hummed, pressing her lips together and considering if there was something specific she wanted for lunch; she hadn't had any definitive cravings yet, other than the three days she really needed to eat Mac and Cheese.

But, something specific did strike Lily.

“A pretzel.” She purred, already licking her lips at the thought of the salty baked good.

Sy chuckled at her, amused at the expression on her face, eyes closed and dreamy. “All right. I'll get you a pretzel then.”

It was like a ding went off in Lily's soul. “I want a lot of Pretzels.” She said, eyes popping open and looked up Sy, almost manic and desperate.

“Okay.” He replied, brows raised and blinking at her. “I'll get you a pretzel for lunch, then some to munch on.”

“Yeah.” Lily nodded, staring down at their feet, eyes wide. “Pretzels are good.”

“That they are.” Sy agreed, snickering, unable to keep back his amusement.

Lily's eyes snapped up at him, watching him laugh at her, his eyes practically teasing and making fun of her. “Shut up.” She snapped, but started to laugh back at him. “I can't help it.”

“I know you can't.” He nodded, trying to stop, but it only made him laugh harder. “That's what makes it even better.”

“I hate you.” Lily giggled, playful punching him in the arm. “Now, I want my pretzel, Captain.”

“Yes, Major!” Sy replied, saluting her, then quickly cleaned up after Aika and took them back to the truck. “I just need to find a place to get you one.” He sighed, taking his phone off its dock and googled where to get a pretzel in Memphis, Tennessee.

“Okay, there's an Auntie Anne's not that far from us that does pretzels.” He said, saving the directions and setting them in that direction.

Leaving Aika in the car, Lily and Sy went into the shopping center the Auntie Anne's was in, navigating the crowd and line to the counter. Lily chewed on her lip for a moment, torn between getting a regular pretzel or the pretzel bites, before finally deciding on the bites with the nacho cheese dip. With her food, they navigated their way around again and Sy got himself something from the Wendy's the center had as well, before going back out to the truck to eat there; Lily stealing a couple of Sy's french fries and sharing a couple of her pretzel bites.

Once their lunch was finished and they tossed their empty containers away, Sy made a quick run into the Mega Wal-Mart across the street from the shopping center to buy a big bag of mini pretzels and a case of Voss water for Lily, knowing she was going to get very thirsting from devouring them.

“Thank you.” Lily said, when Sy gave her the bag as he got in the car, her eyes glued on the bag.

“Just don't turn into one.” He teased her, chuckling. “All right, let's get back on the road.”

“I don't want you driving all night, Austin.” Lily mumbled around a mouthful of pretzel.

“I know and I won't.” He replied, reaching a hand into the bag. “I'll go until sun down, then we'll find a place to sleep for the night.” He said, then crammed the four or five pretzels into his mouth.

“Good.” Lily smiled, passing back a pretzel to Aika, who quickly devoured it and came back for more.

Reaching Blacksburg, Virginia just after dark, Sy found a drive-thru to order them dinner and a motel for the night, parking out front of the motel's office. Sighing, he rested back in the driver's seat, scrubbing his palms over his tired face and lulled his head to the side to look over at Lily, who had fallen asleep again, twisted around her pillow and her half eaten bag of pretzels clutched to her chest. They were three hours away from her grandparents' orchard, three hours from finding out whether or not they would be in Lily and the baby's life.

“Watch her, girl.” Sy said to Aika, before slipping out of the truck, locking the doors for extra measure, and going inside the office to get a room.

Once he had the room, Sy got back into the truck and parked as close to the room as he could, before going around and opening Lily's door, careful not to let her slip out. Then, gently took the pretzel bag from her and set it aside, unbuckled her seat belt and tried to figure out for a moment how to untangle the mess of limbs and pregnancy pillow, but quickly gave up with an amused chuckle. He just picked up both her and the pillow to carry her into their room and laid her down on the bed, tugging the turned down blankets over her, then went out to get their bag, dinner and Aika.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy smiled, closing the room door with his foot as Lily sat up, rubbing at her face and pushing her hair out of her face. “I got us some food.” He said, holding up the bag.

“You hungry?”

Lily nodded, still sleepy. “Where are we now?” She asked, sitting cross legged on the bed, beside Sy as they ate their food.

“Blacksburg.” He replied, shoving fries in his mouth. “About three hours away from your grandparents' place.”

Lily bit her lip and nodded her head, staring at the half eaten, plain chicken sandwich in her hand, suddenly losing her appetite and set it down. “I'm gonna take a shower, I'm sore.” She mumbled, getting off the bed and headed into the tiny bathroom.

Turning on the light and closing the door, Lily let out a heavy breath and tugged her tank top off over her head, followed by her elephant patterned leggings and underwear, before turning towards the shower, the walls were dingy and discolored, but clean. Spinning the hot and cold taps, then stepping under the shoddy shower-head, she leaned her forehead against the cracked acrylic wall, letting the pleasantly warm water cascade down her back, like a waterfall, with a soft moan. She was starting to have second thoughts about going to see her grandparents. She wondered how upset or disappointed Sy would be, if she told him she wanted to go back home to Celina in the morning, instead of going the three hours to Middleburg to see them.

She wondered how disappointed in herself she would be later on, if she chickened out this close to their destination.

The bathroom door opened and closed, followed by the rustle of clothing, before Sy stepped into the shower behind Lily, resting one hand on her hip and brought the other one around to cup the gentle slope of Lily's belly, pressing his lips to the base of her neck. Gulping down a thicket of emotions in her throat, Lily turned in Sy's arms and pressed herself against his chest, nuzzling her face into his neck. He smiled against her wet hair, gently kneading her hips and lower back, knowing after so many hours in the car and the way she contorted her body to sleep, she must have been in pain.

“Let me take care of you.” He whispered, kissing her forehead.

Sy picked up the little bottle of travel sized, hotel shampoo, broke the seal on it and poured it into his broad palm, then gently massaged it into her hair, stealthily wiping away a line of soap that dripped down her forehead and almost in her eye. Lily closed her eyes, softly moaning at the gentle and pleasurable pressure of Sy's strong and blunt fingers working the scentless shampoo into her scalp, his thumbs moving out to methodically rub her temples, easing the edge off of the tension migraine she had all day. Sy tipped her head back into the spray of the shower, combing his fingers through her wet and soapy strands to rinse out the shampoo. With her hair washed, he found a small wash cloth and bar of soap, and started to wash her body, beginning with her shoulders and applying a little bit of pressure as he did to massage the cramped muscles there.

“God, that feels so good.” Lily sighed, melting under his tender affection, a smile twitching on her face as he rubbed the cloth over the ticklish spots of her sides.

Sy smiled, kissing the bridge of her nose. “Anything for you, Angel.” He cooed back, paying special attention to the beautifully growing bulge of her belly.

“Thank you.” She whispered, relaxed and sleepy, after they got out of the shower, letting Sy dry her off and secure the towel around her body.

“You're welcome, Sweetheart.” He replied, kissing her cheek.

Lily went back into the room and opened their duffel bag, just pulling out the first article of clothing that her hand came in contact with, which was Sy's worn, Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey t-shirt and let the towel slip off her and pulled on his shirt. Sy stood in the bathroom doorway, still naked and dripping from the shower and smiled at her, loving how the black garment hung on her like a dress, her shoulder length hair dripping and making it wet as she brushed it.

He had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

Moving over to the full sized bed, Sy situated her pregnancy pillow, then turned towards Lily. “Lay down, Angel.” He cooed at her.

Frowning at him for a moment, but seeing the look in his blue eyes, Lily chuckled and laid down, situating herself with her head and neck propped up on the belly of the pillow and her body comfortably cradled in the middle of it. Sy picked up her discarded towel and used it to dry off some, before turning off the room lights, then crawled into bed with her. Moving between Lily's legs and gently bending up her knees and pushing them apart, Lily's startled gasp filled the dark room as Sy's warm breath wafted over her exposed folds, just before his wide tongue took one long and leisurely lick.

“Jesus H. Christ!” She cried out, gripping the arms of her pillow.

“Just me, Angel.” Sy chuckled, hooking his arms around her legs, so they rested on his shoulders, and pressed his palms down on top of her thighs, to keep her still, before dipping his head back down and pressing an open kiss to her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, melting Lily into a sweet and needy whimper.

Sy licked and suckled at her delicate pussy, slipping his tongue between her folds to tease her entrance and get a deeper taste of her, lewd noises filled the room as neither of them hid the pleasure they were in and having. Lily rocked against his mouth, her hands pressed to the back of Sy's head to hold him in place, eyes rolled and fluttered, her anxiety of not wanting to go to her grandparents' in the morning completely forgotten in the heady peak of her orgasm.

“I love your mouth.” Lily sighed, out of breath, exhausted and pleasantly numb.

Sy roared with laughter, laying down beside her. “Good to know.” He grinned, pulling the blankets over them and draping his arm over her. “Good night, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek.

“Night, Bear.” She mumbled back, starting to drift off.

Sy stayed awake for a little while, his hand slipping up inside the shirt she was wearing to gently caress her belly and stared at the back of her head. “God,” He whispered, careful not to wake or disturb her. “I don't ask much of you. But, for whatever my word is worth, please don't let these people hurt my girl. She needs and wants them in her life, so does our little one.” He said, lifting his hand to gently stroke her damp hair.

“Let this meeting tomorrow go well, for all of us.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging Lily back against him.

Lily took a deep breath and held it, as Sy turned the truck off the main road and onto the dirt road leading onto the Warren Orchard farm, seeing the tall apple tree shaped sign with Warren Apples carved elegantly in its trunk. It wasn't long before they came to the closed security gate, shutting them off from the rest of the farm. Sy rolled the truck to a stop and looked over to Lily, lifting a brow at her, waiting for her to tell him what they should do next, when a voice came to life next to him.

“Welcome to Warren Apple Orchards, what can I do for you?” A deep Southern drawl asked from a mounted intercom box outside the driver's side window.

Sy rolled down his window and leaned closer to the box, spotting the security camera mounted above the one side of the gate. “Yeah, we're here looking for the owners of the place.” He replied, glancing over at Lily again.

“Mr. and Mrs. Warren aren't taking visitors just now.”

Lily huffed through her nose and leaned over the center console and Sy. “Tell them, Liliana wants to see them, Judd.” She called out, biting and pressing her lips together.

There was a long pause with a bubble of tension, before an electric buzz filled the humid air around them and the metal gate rolled out of their way. Lily sat back in her seat and Sy gave her a concerned look, before driving though.

“You know him?”

“He's worked here as long as I can remember.” Lily replied, staring out her window to the immaculate lawn and row of trees beyond that. “Just keep following the road, you'll find the house at the end of it.” She added, picking at the hem of the shorts she was wearing.

True enough, a few minutes later, a massive colonial, plantation house appeared behind ancient weeping willows. Made mostly of white stone with two stories of wrap around porches and ornate black railings, tall marble columns, from the foundation to the roof; what looked like five chimneys, three turrets and an apple tree weathervane. The driveway looped around the front of the house, leading up the stairs onto the porch was double french, front doors.

Sy was in complete awe of it as he pulled around to the front of the driveway. “This place is amazing.”

“Yeah.” Lily gulped, biting her lip and stared up at the house. “Oh dear god.” She whimpered, shrinking her seat, trying to hide.

“What?” Sy frowned, then noticed a whited haired man step out of the house, wearing a pair of light brown khaki pants and a black pull over sweater with the Warren Orchard's logo on it, an apple with an arrow threw it, the front of the arrow's shaft bent in the shape of a W.

“I'm guess, that's--”

“My grandfather.” Lily nodded, peeking over the edge of the door to look up at him. “Yep.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and pressed her forehead to the window.

“Well, you can't hide forever, Angel.” Sy told her, tilting his head at her. “He knows we're here and this is more than likely us, sitting here.”

“I know.” Lily huffed, chewing her lip. “I know.”

“You can do this, babe.” He encouraged her. “I'm right here, Angel.”

Lily looked over at him, looking at him like a lost puppy, before taking a deep breath and fortifying herself. “You're right.” She nodded, leaning over and kissed him.

Taking another deep breath, Lily opened her door and stepped out of the truck, gulping as she looked up the steps to her grandfather. Her heart felt like a war drum in her chest, she was excited to see him again, he didn't seem any different from the last time he had seen him, at least, not from the distance they were at.

But, she was also afraid of what was about to happen next.

“Paw-Paw.” She called out to him, softly, her voice shaky.

“Liliana.” He replied, lifting a snowy brow at her, his honey-brown eyes scrutinizing her.

“I've missed you.” Lily blurted out, sniffling, tears burning her eyes. “I'm sorry I disappeared. I'm sorry I just ran away and I didn't tell either of you where I was going or why. That I stayed away for so long without a word.”

“But, I thought about you all the time.”

He stared hard at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You scared the daylights out of your grandmother and I, Liliana. We tried looking for you everywhere, but you just vanished into thin air, like you never existed.” He told her, his anger slowly showing on his face.

“We thought you were dead.”

Lily bowed her head, ashamed for what she had put her grandparents through. “I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention, Paw-Paw.” She choked, looking back up at him, breathing hard.

“Then, what was your intention, Liliana?” He barked at her, his eyes glowing with rage. “Who are you?” He hissed, as Sy came around the front of the truck to wrap an arm around Lily's waist, to comfort her.

Sy looked up at him for a moment, his eyes hard at the man. “Austin Syverson.” He replied, hugging Lily against his side and rubbing her back.

“Your relation to my granddaughter is what?”

“I'm her boyfriend.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “Look, she's come here, because she misses you both, very much, and has regretted the way she left. But, she had to leave, she had a very valid reason in doing so. In reality, she's an adult, more than capable of making her own choices and doesn't have to answer to anyone as to why she's made them.” He told Lily's grandfather.

“That includes you.”

“But, she's gained the strength to come here to try and make amends with you both, for more than one reason. You can either accept that or you can not. What happens now, is up to you.”

“Davy, who is it?”

A voice called from the double doors behind Lily's grandfather, before it opened to a thin, elderly woman with a short, curly pixie cut, who struggled to wheel herself out of the house and onto the porch. Her dim and pale blue eyes almost instantly found Lily at the bottom of the porch stairs, her hands flew to the front of her flower pattern dress, mouth dropping open.

“Liliana!” She exclaimed, reaching out a hand to her husband.

“Mee-maw.” Lily sniffled back, smiling at her grandmother through her tears.

“Thank the Lord, you're all right, my sweet child.” She cried, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“I am.” Lily nodded, wiping at her eyes. “And, I wanna be part of your lives again. I want to make amends for what I did by running away and disappearing. I'm sorry, I hurt you and Paw-Paw.”

Lily's grandmother looked up at her husband, who was still glaring at Lily and Sy, pressed her lips together, then looked back at them. “Come inside.” She said, letting his hand go and turned her wheelchair around and headed back towards the door.

“Davy.” She called over her shoulder.

Sighing, he turned and pulled the door open for her, eyeing Lily and Sy as they mounted the porch stairs, then followed his wife inside the house, before doing the same. She rolled down the hallway and turned into the private study, motioning to the long leather couch and parked herself in front of it.

“Hello.” She said, looking at Sy as he sat down beside Lily on the couch.

“Ma'am.” He replied, politely nodding his head to her.

“Who might you be?”

“Austin Syverson, Ma'am.” Sy answered with a sweet smile. “I'm your granddaughter's boyfriend.”

“Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Syverson.” She replied, regarding him. “I'm Violet Warren, and this is my husband, Davis.” She said, motioning to him as he took a seat in a chair to Lily and Sy's left.

“Sir.” Sy said, nodding his head stiffly to him.

“You're looking well, Liliana.” Violet commented, turning her attention to her granddaughter.

“Thank you.” Lily whispered, licking her lips. “I just go by Lily now.”

Violet nodded her head. “Very well.” She acknowledged. “Where've you been, Lily?”

Lily drew a deep breath through her nose and slowly let it back out. “It's a long story.” She whimpered, gripping Sy's hand for support, chewing the inside of her cheek to bits.

Davis and Violet glanced at each other, before she leaned forward and took a small hand bell off the coffee table between them and rang it. A moment later, a young lady appeared in the doorway of the room and Violet asked her to serve them some tea. The tension was tight and thick in the room while the tea was being made for them, no one saying a word to each other. The servant returned, carrying in a highly polished tea tray and set it down on the coffee table, setting out teacups for the four of them and filled the cups, before leaving the room again.

“What is your story, Lily?”

Carefully drizzling a bit of honey into her tea with a honey dipper and taking a fortifying sip of it, Lily started her story. “You know that I had been seeing Jak.” She said, looking between her grandparents.

“We did.” Violet nodded, taking a sip of her own tea.

“Well, what you didn't know was Jak had been abusive to me.” She continued, staring into the rich and steamy liquid in the expensive china teacup. “He had been the entire time we were together. But, I was too naive and silly to break it off with him for the longest time. But, after a particularly bad incident, I decided I couldn't take it any longer. So, I packed a bag and went to live with Maggie. I didn't tell you-” She paused, brow creased, she had often thought about why she hadn't told them, but had never really pinned down a specific reason to why she hadn't.

But, she shook that thought off.

“I honestly don't know why I hadn't. All I knew was I was terrified of Jak finding me again and dragging me back into the life and situation I had been living in for so long with him. While I was with Maggie, I changed my name from Liliana Jade Warren to Lily Ana Moore, to make it harder for him to find me, which made it hard for the both of you to find me, and finished university.” She continued on. “After I did that, I moved to a very small town in Texas and started my own company for my Graphic Design and Photography.”

“It's how I've been supporting myself.”

“I was so consumed by my paranoia and fear of Jak finding me, that I never left the house I bought in Texas, five years ago, this is the farthest I've been from it, since I've moved there.” She confessed, looking to Sy, who smiled at her, supportive and proud.

“What's changed?” Her grandfather asked, his own teacup still where the servant set it, ignored and cold. “Why are you here now?”

Lily cleared her throat and set her tea aside. “I left and became reclusive, agoraphobic, because I felt unsafe and afraid. That Jak would end up finding me and hurting me. He did end up finding me, but Austin...” She looked to Sy, her eyes filled with appreciative love and pride. “Austin makes me feel safe again. He's protected me, in more than one way, and he's shown me what real love is. I owe him so much.”

Sy grinned brightly at her, gripping her hand, a bit choked up at her words.

“He's helped me get back to this place, a place I've held onto, wanting to be a productive member of society, to be back in your life and be your granddaughter again. I miss you and I love you both. That never changed and it will never change.”

“That never changed for us either, Lily.” Violet replied, resting her teacup back on its saucer. “You will always be our precious granddaughter and we have always loved you; from the moment you were born to this moment right now.”

“I hope you could find it in your heart, to have a little more love.” Lily whispered, biting the inside of her lip, gulping.

“For what?” Violet frowned, brows drawing together and head tilting at her.

Lily looked to Sy, who nodded his head at her. “Sy and I are expecting.” She mumbled, not meeting either of her grandparents' eyes.

“You're with child?” Violet asked, shocked disbelief in her voice.

“I am.” Lily nodded, whimpering.

“I hope you're not here, thinking this little reunion will get you money.” Her grandfather snapped, coldly.

Lily's eyes snapped over to him, a cold knot of shock, hurt and anger in her stomach, she could feel the tension stiffen Sy's body. “We don't need any of the family money.” She hissed, eyes hardening. “My business alone is quite well off, thank you; and I'm more than offended at the accusation.”

“That's putting it politely.” Sy chimed in, staring daggers into the old man.

“Davis.” Violet barked, offended at her husband's insult as well, she had no feeling that Lily and Sy were there looking for money or assistance with their lives or the baby.

“Excuse me, for the last time I recalled a couple sitting on that very same couch to tell us they were expecting a child, it was our sweet Daisy and that good for nothing, Palmer, and we all saw how that ended.” Davis replied, his voice cold and sharp.

“Austin isn't my father.” Lily barked, her voice mirroring her grandfather's.

Lily and her grandfather glared darkly at each other, before Violet grew annoyed with their childish behavior and clapped her bony hands together, catching the room's attention.

“That is quite enough.” She scolded them.

Sy hid his smirk around the rim of his teacup, already liking Lily's grandmother.

“How far along are you?” Violet asked, looking at Lily.

“Almost thirteen weeks.” She replied, unconsciously touching her belly.

“Do you know what you're having?”

“Not yet.” Lily grinned at Sy, giddy at the thought of finding out the gender of the baby, she didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, she was just excited in general. “We won't know for another five weeks.” She added, glancing over at her grandmother.

“Well,” Violet grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I can't wait to meet my great-grandbaby.” She said, sounding overjoyed at the prospect. “Davy?” She looked to her husband, her eyes still filled with excitement, but outlined with warning.

Davis looked at her for a moment, then over at Lily, before looking down at the watch on his right wrist, then stood. “I have to meet Mac in the south orchard.” He said, tonelessly, and left the room.

Lily let out an uneven breath and painful tears punched her in the chest, turning her face into Sy's collarbone as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side, pressing his lips to her hair. Violet's mouth was pressed into a thin, angry, lipstick red line as she continued to stare out the study doorway after Davis, the rapturous event of finding out about their great-grandbaby being overshadowed by his stubborn pigheadedness.

“I think we should go.” Sy said to Lily, gently wiping away her tears.

“Please, do stay.” Violet chimed in, turning her attention back to them. “There's more than enough room right here.” She said, looking back and forth between Lily and Sy. “Please, it's been so long, Lily. You've been gone and so far away. Town is twenty minutes away and with you here now, two minutes is too far away.”

Lily looked up at Sy.

“It's up to you, Angel.” He whispered, brushing his thumb against her flushed cheek.

She looked over at her grandmother. “Of course, I would love that.” She whispered, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

Violet smiled at her, relieved to have her granddaughter under the same roof again. “I'll have Clara set two extra places at the table.” She grinned, overjoyed. “I'll even have her make your favorites for lunch and dinner.”

Lily smiled at her, touched at her grandmother's sentiment. “Thank you.”

“You remember where your room is?” She replied, lifting a brow at her.

“I do.” Lily nodded her head.

“Then, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you must be tired with the baby and the long journey from Texas.”

“I am.” She agreed, sighing softly.

“Off you both go then, the bell will ring, when lunch is ready.”

“Thank you, Mee-Maw.” Lily said, nodding her head and stood up, Sy standing with her.

“Ma'am.” Sy nodded his head to Violet, then followed Lily out of the room and down the hall to a flight of stairs. “Well, that didn't go as badly as the two of us thought it would.” He commented, mounting the stairs behind her.

“No, it did not.” Lily replied over her shoulder, going up the three sets of stairs. “I just hope my grandfather comes around.” She added, coming to the second floor and going down to a door at the very end of the hall. “This is...was—my room.” She said, turning the vintage, metal and ceramic door knob that had a hand-painted gold floral design on it, and pushed the door open.

The bedroom was spacious and bright with the mid-morning sun shining in through four windows, between one set of windows sat a squat, five compartment, vintage chest of drawers, across from that was a full sized, poster bed, with the doorway to a bathroom to the left and a walk-in closet to the right. There was a bookcase and table against the wall by the door, mostly filled with church and home school related things.

“It's a nice room.” Sy commented, picking up one of the books on the table, a bible.

“Thanks.” Lily smiled, shyly, seeing that her grandparents had left her room the exact way she'd left it, when she moved out.

“Do you wanna rest for a little while?” He suggested, stepping up behind her and resting his hands on her hips, gently pressing his thumbs into the small of her back and massaging them.

“Yeah.” She moaned, her head dropping back against his chest, turning to kiss the underside of his bearded jaw.

“How about a nice warm bath first, maybe a cup of tea?”

Lily chuckled into his neck, grinning. “So dotting, Captain.” She teased him.

“I love you.” He cooed, kissing her forehead, then moved away from her and went into the bathroom, plugging the drain on the ancient claw-foot tub and turned the X-shaped tap handles.

Lily padded into the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet seat and pushed down the stress of her grandfather's behavior towards her, to watch Sy fill the bath for her, a soft smile on her face. She stood up for a moment and reached underneath the sink and removed a small bottle and handed it to him. Sy smiled at her and took it from her, uncapping it and getting the strong snap of eucalyptus and sprinkled the Epsom salt into the delicately warm water, before turning off the tap. He grabbed a towel and folded it, then situated it at one end of the tub, to pillow her head, when she started to soak.

“Now, where is the kitchen?” He asked, looking at her.

“Down the stairs, first door to your right.” Lily replied, getting out of her clothing.

“Cool, I'll be right back.” Sy told her, kissing her temple and stepped out of the room to go downstairs to get her tea.

Lily finished undressing and carefully stepped into the pleasantly warm water, leaning back with a soft and satisfied moan, focusing on the warm water enveloping her body easing away her aches and pains, melting away the anxieties that had accumulated during the drive over from Texas and the visit. While Sy found the kitchen and pushed open the swinging door, finding the cook, Clara, inside, who looked up as she heard him come in and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Can I help you?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Um, just need a cup of tea.” He replied, licking his lips and glancing around the kitchen.

“Oh, of course, right away.”

“I'd hate to put you out.” Sy said, alarmed.

Clara chuckled at him, pulling down a cup from a high cabinet. “It's what the Warren's hired me for.” She assured him. “I'm guessing it's for Lily.” She added, moving about the kitchen as she put the things together to make the tea.

“Yeah.” He nodded, then patiently waited for her to finish and took the cup from her. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Clara smiled, and returned to what she had been doing.

Sy carefully took the cup back upstairs to Lily, smiling as he stepped into the bathroom and saw her lounging comfortably in the tub. He was glad she could relax and let the stress go, even if it was for a little while. Lily stirred as he sat down beside her, smiling at him and taking the cup of tea from his outstretched hands and let out a pleased moan.

“Feels like a spa day.” She chuckled, handing her teacup back to Sy for him to hold, so she could relax back again.

“You deserve to relax.” Sy replied, softly. “You've got an important job to do.”

“Yeah, I'm growing a Syverson.” Lily chuckled, teasingly.

“Exactly.” He laughed back. “That's no easy feat to bring one of us into the world.”

“Bringing a Syverson into the world is just the start of it, then we have to raise them.”

“Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble.” Sy grinned at her. “Nothing, but trouble.”

“Toil and bubble.” Lily giggled, fully amused and lighthearted.

“Come on, sleepy, out with you.” Sy said, setting her empty teacup on the vanity counter and pulled the towel off the bar and held it open for her.

“Okay.” Lily replied, stifling a yawn with her hand.

Stepping out of the tub and into Sy's arms, she rested her forehead against his chest and let him dry her off. Sy had taken a liking to drying her off after she showered or bathed, since she'd become pregnant, none of which Lily protested to, she was usually very sleepy by the time she got out of them, so having him there to finish up was always nice.

“Oh, fuck.” He barked, after helping back into her clothing. “Your pillow is still in the truck.”

“It won't kill me to have one nap without it.” Lily said, through yet another yawn.

“You were a very cranky mama bear the last time you didn't have that thing to sleep with.” He reminded her. “I'll go down and get it, just sit tight.”

“I'd rather lay tight.” She huffed, starting to get cranky as she shuffled over to her bed and laid down.

Sy rushed back downstairs and nearly collided with Violet. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He panted, making sure she was all right. “ Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, where's the fire, Mr. Syverson?”

“Lily's laying down for her nap and I just realized she doesn't have her pregnancy pillow and she always wakes up very cranky, when she doesn't have it to sleep with.” He explained, calming down.

Violet smiled up at Sy, touched and pleased at the plain devotion he had for her granddaughter. “Well, we can't have that, now can we?” She chuckled, rolling back out of his way.

“No, ma'am.” Sy shook his head at her.

“Violet, Mr. Syverson. Just call me Violet.” She informed him as Sy reached the front door.

He paused, hand on the door and smiled at her, remembering when Lily told him to call her by her given name. “Of course, Ms. Violet.” He nodded at her, politely.

Violet smiled back at him and Sy went out to his truck.

“Hey, girl.” Sy said, opening the passenger door of the truck and only to get attacked by Aika's tongue. “I know, I know. I haven't forgotten about ya. I promise.” He chuckled, petting her. “I'll come back down in a couple minutes and take care of you. But first, I have to take care of your mama.” He said, reaching in the back seat for Lily's U-Shaped pillow, pushed Aika back and closed the door again, before rushing back upstairs.

“Okay, pillow.” Sy said, bursting into the room, only to find Lily curled into a ball and sound asleep, making him chuckling. He situated her pillow and gently unrolled Lily from her ball and slipped her between her pillow, before covering her up.

“Sleep sweet, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek softly, then went back downstairs. “Um, do you know where Ms. Violet is?” He asked the servant that had served him and Lily tea when they had first arrived.

“Yes, she's in the private study, right through there.” She replied, pointing the way.

“Thank you.” He nodded, then went down, gently knocking on the door.

“Enter.”

“Ms. Violet?”

“Ah, Mr. Syverson, I'm trusting the pillow crisis was averted?” She asked, an amused glitter in her eyes.

Sy chuckled. “It was, thank you.”

“Then, what can I help you with?”

“I, uh, brought Lily and I's dog with us...” He said, sheepishly, though Lily's grandmother seemed like a very sweet woman, Sy got the vibe she was the authority in this household and crossing her wasn't the way to go. “She's in my truck and I didn't want to take her out without asking first, so I didn't step on any toes and cause any issues with you and your husband.”

“What kind of dog is she?”

“She's a German Shepherd.” Sy replied, licking his lips. “I found her in the war-zone on my last deployment.” He half explained to her.

Violet blinked several times at Sy. “You were in the military?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, with a deep sense of pride. “I was a Captain in the U.S Army, Special Forces, for more than ten years.”

“What's the pup's name?”

“Aika.”

“Well, Aika is more than welcome here.” She told him. “As long as she behaves herself.” She added, a soft smile on her face.

“She's a very well behaved dog, you have my word.” Sy replied, smiling back at her.

“Good.” Violet nodded. “Just make sure you keep her out of the orchards or Davis will have a never-ending fit.”

“Will do.”

Excusing himself, Sy went back out to the truck and put Aika on her leash, walking her around the front of the property and away from the orchards, making sure to clean up after her, then brought her inside, taking her upstairs to Lily's room, where she curled up on the bed with Lily, before he decided to do a little exploring himself before lunch.

He wandered into the orchards, seeing the short trunks, but wide crowns, light green and shiny apples weighing down its branches and a couple littered the ground. There easily had to be a hundred trees of the same sort for as far as Sy could see in the area he was in, before he moved on. Sy came to a small dirt lane and crossed it into a totally different portion of the orchard, these trees were still squat and wide, but the apples on their branches were medium sized and mostly two toned, a dull red that faded into a yellow-y green color.

He crossed another dirt road and found another orchard of another kind of apple, this one a light yellow color, when he heard voices and then his name and turned, seeing Lily's grandfather, realizing he had wandered into the south orchard.

“What are you doing out here?” Davis asked, approaching him.

“Just looking around.” Sy replied, keeping his tone guarded. “Lily's told me a lot about the place.”

“And where is she?”

“Back at the house, sleeping.” Sy told him, his shoulders stiff. “She gets tired a lot with the baby.”

“Hm.” Davis huffed and turned on his heels.

“What's your problem?” Sy barked after him, unable to hold his temper any longer. “She just wants her grandfather, the man that raised her, back in her life, in her child's life. Not your money or your business, just your love and affection.”

Davis spun around on his heels to face Sy. “I might have raised her, because my Daisy died, and her father was an unreliable scum, but she's making the same mistake her mother did. I won't be part of that again.”

“I won't be there when it kills her too.” He hissed, then stormed off.

Lily woke up to Sy's angry pacing at the foot of the bed and cursing under his breath, and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “What's wrong, Bear?” She asked, frowning at him.

“Your grandfather is a pigheaded, son of a bitch.”

Her mouth fell open for a moment, then her brows drew together and her eyes narrowed. “Did the two of you get into an argument?”

“Sorta.” He huffed back.

“For the love of Jesus, Austin.” Lily barked at him, pressing her hands to her face. “Why?”

“I didn't go lookin' for it, Lily.” He retorted, stopping his pacing. “I was just checking out the orchards and ran into him. One thing came to another, I asked him what his problem was, all you want is his love and affection back, not his damned money or his orchard, and his reply was you're making the same mistake your mother made and you'll end up dying because of it too.”

“Which you will fucking not!” He added, a panicked fright breaking through his burst of anger.

“Of course, I'm not going too, Bear.”

Lily sighed, shaking her head and running her hand through her hair, before getting up out of bed. “I'll be more than all right. We have a great doctor and an amazing hospital back home. Plus, I have you to take care of and look after me, the whole time. I'll be perfectly safe and sound.” She told him, hugging her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

“Don't listen to him, Sy. He's just a grumpy old man, set in his ways.”

“What's that make me?” He asked, half jokingly.

“My boyfriend and Papa Bear.” She giggled, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“Good to know, Mama Bear.” He teased back, dipping his head to kiss her. “The fuck was that?” He asked as two loud dinging sounds filled the house.

“That is the lunch bell.” Lily replied, pulling away from him. “One ding is breakfast, two is lunch and three is dinner.” She explained to him, finding her shoes and slipping them back on. “Old Virginian hospitality, Syverson. I know you Texans aren't used to it.”

“Oh, you posh and polished Southerners.” He teased back, following her downstairs. “Give me the ringing of a triangle any day and this cowboy will know the way to the dinner table.”

“Remind me to buy one for our house, then.” Lily giggled, showing him into the family dinning room.

“Buy what for your house?” Violet asked, already seated at one end of the table.

“Oh, Sy was making fun of us for being—what did you call it?” She asked, looking at him as he vigorously shook his head at her. “Ah yes, posh and polished Southerners, for having a meal bell.” You grinned at him, impishly. “While, pointing out the Texas Cowboy in him could only find his way home, if he heard the call of a triangle bell.”

“I said, I would be able to find my way to the table. I know my way home, thank you very much.” He spoke up, his cheeks pink underneath the hairs of his beard.

Both Lily and Violet's laughter filled the dining room, but Sy soon joined them. But, the laughter died down as Davis entered the room, taking his place at the other end of the table, practically sucking the air out of the room as he took his seat.

“How is the south orchard doing?” Violet asked, as lunch was being served.

“One of the original York apple trees is starting to fail for some reason.” Davis replied, picking up the salt shaker. “Mac and I were running through a list of things we can do to save it.” He explained, paying closer attention to his food than to the others at the table with him.

“This looks really good.” Sy commented, licking his lips at his plate.

“It's one of Lily's favorites.” Violet smiled at him. “Creamy Shrimp pasta.”

“I used to try and bribe Clara into making it for every meal once for a whole summer.” Lily chuckled, twirling the angel hair pasta around her fork. “Never worked out.”

“Didn't deter you from trying though.” Violet chuckled, smiling fondly at her granddaughter. “I'm more than sure you'll love what Clara is making you for dinner.”

“I have no doubt.” She smiled back.

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, if you'd like a place to park your truck, I'm sure Davis could show you where the garage is.” Violet said, her eyes on her husband.

“Thank you, Ms. Violet.” Sy replied, smiling at her. “And, please, call me Sy or Austin, whichever you might prefer.” He told her, a bit shyly.

“Austin, it is.” Violet answered, giving him a sweet smile. “But, you can do that for him, can't you?” She said, lifting a brow at her husband, with an expression that dared him to object to her request.

Davis stared at his wife, his hard brown eyes holding Violet's stern blues, before his shoulders dropped slightly. “I'll show you after lunch.”

“Thank you.” Sy replied, stiffly.

Lily rested her hand on Sy's thigh, gently squeezing it, trying to keep him calm and relaxed. “How have the orchards been?” Lily asked her grandfather, trying to open any sort of connection with him. “I know picking season is coming up soon in the next few months.” She pointed out, gathering up a forkful of her shrimp pasta.

There was a long silence at the table, each second made Lily's heart clench tighter, fearing her grandfather would just continue to ignore her and pretend she didn't exist. She didn't know how much more of his coldness she could take, before it became too much to bear and she would just want to leave again.

No matter how much it would hurt.

“Other than the York tree showing signs of white rot, the orchards are as productive and fruitful as ever.” He finally spoke.

“What happens if you don't cure the white rot?” Lily frowned, concerned for the tree.

“We lose the tree.” Davis sighed, resting back in his chair and tossing his napkin onto the table beside his plate. “It'll only be the third originally planted tree on the farm we've ever lost. Well, with any luck the rot won't spread and it won't hit us too hard.” He explained, looking at her.

“Just because you lost one, don't mean you'll lose more.” Lily replied, holding his gaze.

Davis dropped his eyes and nodded his head, sighing, then looked up at Sy, noticing his empty plate. “You done?”

“I am.” Sy nodded, wiping his mouth.

“Come on, and I'll show you where the garage is and you can park your truck.” He said, standing up, leaving his half eaten lunch on the table.

“I'll be right back.” Sy whispered to Lily, kissing her cheek and stood, following her grandfather out of the house.

The walk from the house was silent as they stepped off the paved driveway and onto a pea gravel lane that led a little ways away from the house, through a small grove of very ancient looking weeping willows to a large building with several vehicles parked outside of it.

“You can park it here.” Davis said, motioning to the area in front of them.

“Thanks.” Sy nodded to him, then turned back to get his truck.

Bringing his truck around and finding a place to park it, Sy got out and and grabbed their duffel bag out of the back and locked up, heading back up to the house; when Davis stopped in his tracks, noticing the duffel bag slung over his shoulder; the worn military green and the faded, black U.S letters.

“Something the matter?” Sy frowned, turning back to him.

“That's a military bag.” Davis replied.

“Yes, it is.” He nodded, shifting it on his shoulder and tilting his head at the other man.

“It's yours?”

Sy's shoulders slumped and he stared at the old man. “I served more than ten years in the U.S Army as a Captain in the Special Forces.” He explained to him. “I retired almost a year ago.”

“How did you and Lily meet?”

“As I said, I retired almost a year ago and I returned home to Austin, Texas.” Sy replied, sighing. “Even though I could live quite well on my retirement, I don't like not having a job or being idle. So, I went about applying for jobs, mostly jobs I could do with my hands, construction jobs and such. A construction company told me about a contract that they had gotten from a young lady, who needed help fixing her place up in Celina, which is about three hours south of Austin. I called about it and got the job. I'm sure you guessed, it was Lily.” He smirked, chuckling to himself.

“I started fixing the place up for her and we grew close, especially after we helped each other through a few traumatic things.”

“Like, what?”

“I have pretty severe PTSD from my time in deployment and Lily's gotten me through more than one episode.” Sy smirked, blushing slightly and toeing the ground with the tip of his boot. “She's the guiding light to holding them back.” He whispered softly. “As for her, she's been through a lot in the last five years, especially the fear and turmoil caused by Jak.” He said. “There's nothing on this planet, there hasn't been anything on this planet, I wouldn't do to ensure her happiness and safety.”

Sy looked Davis dead in the eyes, a deep seriousness coming over him, even though he had a knot in his stomach. “Listen, your granddaughter isn't a little girl anymore. She's a grown woman, and a beautiful, loving and intelligent one, at that. She's so incredibly caring for the people around her, even when she's been so hurt and her trust in people has been cut deeply. Her work ethic is admirable, she built a company from the reclusion of her own home, that she hadn't left in more than three years, and it is thriving. She's even currently in the process of interviewing people to fill two positions, because she has so many clients, that she's in need of the extra help.”

“You're projecting the fear of your daughter’s mistakes and death on Lily and it isn't fair to her, or to you and your wife.”

“My Daisy Mae's misfortunes aren't the only failures that have me disappointed in the situation.” Davis said, rolling his jaw at Sy.

Sy huffed at him, biting his lip and nodding his head at him. “You think I'd be some, what was it, unreliable scum, like her father?” He asked, lifting a brow at him.

Davis sighed back at him, scrubbing a palm over his wrinkled forehead and lifted a brow at him. “Come with me.” He said, motioning him back towards the house.

Pressing his lips together, Sy followed him back up to the house and into Davis's private study, setting the duffel bag down by the door as Davis closed it behind him. Davis motioned to a leather and mahogany upholstered chair in front of a cold fireplace, then moved over to a small table of bottles and glasses, pouring them both a drink. He handed Sy a glass and took the seat across from him, taking a long sip.

“Smooth stuff.” Sy commented, licking his lips and admiring the rich, amber liquid.

“Maker's Mark, Kentucky bourbon whiskey.” Davis replied, smirking at his glass, appreciatively.

“Anyhow.” He cleared his throat, balancing his glass on the arm of his chair. “Palmer Hughes. He came to work here in the summer of 1985, he was twenty years old and Daisy was eighteen. I knew the boy was trouble the moment I set eyes on him and knew I should have sent him picking.”

“But, for whatever reason, and against my better judgment, I didn't.”

“He took an instant liking to our Daisy, who was ordinarily a good mannered, well behaved and proper girl. But, as soon as he set his eyes on her, he started corrupting her. He would stop coming to work in the fields to sneak himself and her off the property and go into town or wherever it was they would go to. Daisy started to become more defiant and rebellious. One of our church elders even spotted her and Palmer with a group of their lowlife friends in a questionable area of town, getting high, smoking and drinking.”

“It was such an embarrassment.” He sighed, taking a deep gulp of his drink. “When Daisy was twenty-one, she came to her mother and I and told us she was pregnant. Palmer had split the moment he found out about it. But, I tracked his no good ass down and dragged him back. He and Daisy got married just before Lily was born.”

“What happened?” Sy asked, frowning at him, the burn of the alcohol melting through the knot in his stomach as he thought about it. “How did her mother die?”

“She developed a hemorrhage that the doctor's couldn't get under control, so she ended up bleeding to death.” Davis explained, growing pale at the memory of the doctor's telling him and his wife the news of their daughter’s death, their only child. “For his part, Palmer did seem distraught over her death. But, he blamed Lily for it. So, he spent the rest of her life coming in and out of it, before Violet and I finally just adopted her and permanently took care of her.”

“It was Violet and I that ended up naming Lily, as well. Daisy hadn't picked one, that we were aware of, and Palmer wasn't being cooperative with anyone, us or the hospital staff.”

“Where is her father now?”

Davis sighed and carefully regarded Sy for a long moment, before replying. “He died, some years ago.”

Sy blinked at him, shocked. “You never told Lily this.”

“No.” He shook his head, guilty. “Vi and I thought it would be best that we didn't.”

“That's not really for either of you to decide.” Sy frowned at him, annoyed. “Lily deserves the truth.”

“I know she does.” Davis agreed. “I'll tell her, one day. As for you, Austin.” He met Sy's eyes. “I've unjustly projected my prejudices of Palmer onto you. You are, not even an ounce, the man he was. You are a man I wish my own daughter would have met and fallen in love with. But, I am glad my granddaughter met, fallen in love with and is having my great-grandbaby with you.”

“Thank you.” Sy answered, taking his compliment and finished off his drink.

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princesskiii · 3 years

Text

Locked out

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I’m terrible at titles

The six x reader tag is dry y'all wtf

Warning(s) : Cathy says a few ✨nsfw✨ things, heavily implied fem!reader but they/them pronouns is used, cursing

Summary : Cathy gets locked out of the house and asks to stay the night with you. And at the end of the night you find yourself in bed with a former monarch

°•☆▪︎☆•°•☆▪︎☆•°•☆▪︎☆•°•☆▪︎☆•°

Shit.

Cathy turned around at the slight bang, to reveal what she already expected : The front door closed due to the wind.

“Keys, Cathy keys-" Cathy desperately went through their pockets. "Come on Parr you're supposed to be the smart one-!" They searched for a few minutes. Though all in vain as they groaned and slid to the floor.

They reached for their phone, and whether it was pure luck or fate, they did atleast bring that with them.

They thought about texting Catherine for a moment— But decided against it, 'it's the middle of the show— She won't even have her phone.'

Cathy scrolled through their contacts, trying to figure out anyone they could ask for help.

Their eyes landed quickly, the alternate that had a day off— Rightfully so, Being a super swing they do a lot of covers.

They contemplated their options before opening it, realizing they really didn't have any other options.

—

Cathy Parr : Heyyyy- could i ask for a favor

{Y/N} : Course- what do you need?

Cathy Parr : could you come pick me up i locked myself out of the house :))). And could i stay with you for the night- maybe- please-

{Y/N} : You what-

Cathy Parr : Pls pls pls, I'll ask Catherine if she can give you a few more days off pls.

{Y/N} : Okay okay, i'm coming- this better be a one time thing

Cathy Parr : ofc no worries

—

Cathy cheered— Thanking the gods they asked for all the alts their numbers.

It was originally for calling in sick, till it became making a group chat of the entire cast and talking a lot more outside of the show

Soon enough a car pulled up, Thank god they all knew eachother's adresses in case of emergency.

"Alright, Get in before i change my mind." You lowered the Car's window to speak to Cathy— Who looked almost in awe at seeing you in completely casual attire.

"Right." They snapped out of their trance and got up from the side walk, taking the passengers seat, sending a smile your way.

As the car started up, you decided to make conversation, it would make an awkward night if you didn't talk to the survivor at all.

"How did you end up like this?"

Cathy stared at you before giggling, "i was throwing away leftovers from takeout— No one besides me would want it anyway. I forgot my keys and the door shut because of the wind." You raised a brow before responding.

"Makes sense, i suppose."

The rest of the ride was spent with small talk, You were having small talk— with a former queen. If you'd told anyone about this you doubt they'd believe you.

Soon enough you'd arrived at your home, Cathy staring in awe, despite knowing where you live and being able to come over any time, they never actually did, assuming you'd be uncomfortable with them just showing up.

You chuckled lightly at the wonder in Cathy's eyes as you opened the car door, the noise basically smacking them out of their thoughts and quickly following you out of the car and into your house.

Inside, Cathy looked around. It wasn't much— but it was still pretty.

"You wait here, i'll see if the geust bedroom is available." Cathy raised a brow, did you already have someone over?

You laughed at them, "It's just because it's normally a huge mess, no one ever comes over to spend a night it's basically a storage room with a bed in the middle." Cathy let out a noise of understanding.

“Make yourself feel at home! Or— Whatever they always say.” Cathy chuckled, barely audible to you as you walked away to the geust room.

After a few minutes you returned, Startling Cathy when you started talking. “It is absolutely not, It’s a mess. Unless you like sleeping in between dirt bags, which in that case go ahead.” Cathy snickered, shaking their head. “Rather not. I imagine it’s rather uncomfortable.”

You smiled. “If you want you can sleep on my bed, i’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

“Wait-”

“Because it seems rather rude to have the geust sleep on the couch.”

“We could sleep togheter.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to sleep on the couch either- It’s your house after all. And i wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same bed.” Cathy’s face slowly became a dark shade of red, only now realizing what they really said.

“But i don’t know- You don’t have to-”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh-”

Cathy stared into space for a minute, processing your answer. “Do you have any sleeping clothes with you by some kind of miracle?” You asked, way to casually for the flustered queen to understand. Cathy smiled sheepishly, their face becoming even more red. “I have a bra on?” You grimaced. “Who in their right mind sleeps while wearing a bra.”

Cathy grinned, seeing an oppurtunity. “Want me to sleep naked then?”

This time your face went red. “I’ll see if i have anything else for you.” You walked off again, leaving the queen to process everything that just happened. “Oh sweet lord.” Cathy whispered to themself. They put their face in their hands, blushing heavily.

You returned in only a matter of seconds. Cathy had already calmed down in the short time, but your face was still burning red, Causing a light chuckle from Cathy.

“What’s your size?”

“I... honestly don’t know.” Cathy said, causing you to throw your head back with a groan. “That means you’re gonna have to see if it fits— And i don’t know if you have the energy to go through my entire closet.”

“I’ll really have to sleep in my bra then.” Cathy joked, Though not really knowing if it was fully a joke. “How the hell do you do that?” You asked. “It’s comfortable?” Cathy shrugged, smiling. You looked at her with confusion for a few more seconds before continuing.

“I mean if you’re okay, and comfortable, with that.” Cathy nodded. “It’s not like we’ve never seen eachother like that before.”

Cathy had almost said it in something others would consider a romantic way. It was almost like they were suggesting something different— Of course you knew that wasn’t it. But you still blushed at the thought.

Cathy laughed as she saw your blush grow. “Don’t worry! I’m not suggesting anything!”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding

“Unless you want me to—”

You slapped your hand over your mouth, blushing furiously. Cathy laughed harder. “I’m kidding, i’m kidding!” They threw their hands up in defence. “I’m only teasing you. Promise.” Cathy grinned.

“Right—, Yeah let’s just go to sleep now.” You walked off to your bedroom, leaving Cathy to undress.

The moment you sat down you slammed your head down on your pillow. Processing the entire situation. You quickly went to your closet to change yourself.

A few minutes after you were done Cathy walked into the room.

Cathy smiled sheepishly. “Well time to sleep then?”

You raised your brow. “Shouldn’t you message the others about where you are?” You asked, Cathy chuckling in response. “I’m an adult.”

“Doesn’t always seem like it.”

“Hey-!”

You laughed as Cathy crossed their arms in mock anger. “I’m 21 thank you.”

“21 going on 5 then.” You chuckled as Cathy gasped. “Let’s just get to bed!” Cathy walked over to the bed, ushering you over to the other side. You quickly thanked the gods you decided to get a double bed as Cathy pulled you down.

“Lay down you maniac!” Cathy grinned playfully holding you down to the matress. “For the first time in my life i want to sleep, which means you have to as well.” They looked up at you for a reaction, grinning more when you rolled your eyes but obeyed.

“Like i said 21 going on 5.” You smiled as Cathy turned the remaining bed side lamp off.

“Fuck off.”

“Can’t exactly do that now can i-”

“Shut up! Go to sleep.”

And as you both layed down and finally went to sleep, you realized you'd have some feelings to work out.

#Six #six the musical #six the musical x reader #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #Catherine Parr six #Six Catherine parr #catherine parr x reader #Character x Reader #x reader #six x reader

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sukiglycerin · 3 years

Text

dolce (sweetly, softly, gently)

* pairing: accompanist/violinist!katsuki bakugou x violinist!reader (gender neutral!) ft kamijirou

* genre: fluff, kinda angst, enemies to lovers, classical musician au hehe

* words: 9.5k (holy crap, this was a rollercoaster to write)

* warnings: swearing bc not only does bakugou exist, he is a prominent character, brief viola/second violinist jokes (reader’s words not mine), poor rosins being dropped :(

* a/n: SO this is very late for @prettysetterbaby‘s v-day collab!! pls check out all the other talented writers involved >< jj is an ANGEL for putting up with me being late T_T there’s some violin terminology in here but it’s fine if you don’t understand it! more notes at the end aha

* playlist (spotify in source link): violin sonata no.9, op.47 in a major “kreutzer” (beethoven) ; liebesfreud (kriesler) ; violin partita no.3 in e major (bach) ; duo concertante for 2 violins no.3 in d-sharp major, op.57 (beriot) ; clair de lune (debussy) ; duo for 2 violins in d-major, op.67, no.2 (spohr) ; 24 caprices op.1, no.24 in a minor (paganini)

* synopsis: being a soloist is not made easy by your new accompanist, bakugou. you step on each other’s toes when playing - but that’s alright, he’s just a pianist. you’re separated in your two worlds of musical instruments, until one day, you’re not. bakugou traverses over realms like a simple string crossing, and there’s a lot more he’s brought with him.

a double stop in violin is a technique in which two notes are played simultaneously. played correctly, one violin playing two notes should sound like two violins playing separate notes. if your life was a violin, you only needed double stops to play it. you'd perfected the art of being alone, playing the parts of two in your sad solo sonata. you were so, so sure you could compose and play for the whole orchestra - a symphony that would surely please the audience.

you were wrong. after all, a double stop has its limits as well, impossible to play with an interval of larger than a tenth. you were content with your double stops and playing by yourself. this was how you won countless competitions - what good would changing anything be?

you were born a soloist, or that's what your parents would say. you never followed the crowd, sticking to your own mind and doing what was true to you. you never worked well in an orchestra setting (and who knew what would become of you if you ever landed in second violin!). thus, you became a soloist, determined to keep the spotlight on you. it was you and your perfection that kept the eyes of the audience transfixed; you were desperate to keep their focus enraptured by every slight movement of your bow, every shift in finger position on the fingerboard. you wanted them to follow every dynamic and tempo change like their life depended on it, feel their emotion spark the moment your bow pressed a string. you were the only one on stage, an entertainer and an artist to the audience. you brought joy and sorrow through key changes and wonder through glissandos and held suspense with every tremolo. the audience was yours for an entire piece, for a story, for a lifetime.

oh, and there was the accompanist. what was his name again? batsugou? bakugou. the last part was a joke, of course. you'd never forget the man who ruined your first recital overseas.

katsuki bakugou was quickly made your accompanist after the previous one quit last minute and schedule clashes between any other potential candidates rendered them unable to travel with you. no one in their right mind would've come along on a plane to play a piano accompaniment for you. indeed, bakugou was not in his right mind. his name was prominent locally, an orchestral prodigy with the gift of perfect pitch since the tender age of thirteen. he never ventured internationally, though given the chance multiple times to do so. you could never understand why he never took any of the opportunities. you'd jump at any chance of expanding your musical horizons and performing for a larger audience, so it frustrated you to see someone with such potential to throw away possibly beneficial opportunities. not that you really paid much attention to him, anyway. bakugou was a pianist, and you were a violinist. you only cared about competition, not those with blessings you could only dream of achieving.

the months leading to your recital, bakugou had gone quiet. well, you didn't know him personally, so it was news of him that had gone practically radio silent. he was no longer featured in news articles or even pinned on bulletin boards for upcoming recitals. there were no updates from him on social media, too. not that you really paid attention, anyway. he was a prodigy, gifted naturally with talent, and you were a violinist.

an ambitious violinist, at that. you had dreams to perform anywhere out of the stifling air of japan. even to fly a short distance to south korea would be amazing, because it meant you'd be outside of japan. you worked towards this goal tirelessly. you dreamed of stepping on a plane, violin case in your right hand and your dreams in another, to fly to another country and perform. you wished to see the talent beyond your own bubble and feel the music resonate in an auditorium in a different way than it did in japan.

one day, that dream was realized. your violin case in one hand and dreams in another, you boarded the plane flying out of japan full of hope and the faith that good days were coming. while yes, you didn't expect to step out of that plane with anyone but your old accompanist, momo, bakugou's presence comforted you in the foreign atmosphere. for the first ten minutes, he said not a word to you but made it a point to speak to everyone else he could in what seemed like very convincingly fluent english.

to which you finally mustered up the courage to say, in japanese, "i thought you didn't travel internationally."

his japanese voice was a comforting sound. "i don't. this is my first time out of japan."

you stared at him like he just said he ate babies for breakfast (which seemed just as astronomically insane as him never stepping foot out of japan).

"but-" you stuttered. "your english is so good?"

"only because you can't understand it."

to be fair, he had a point. you could only say the basics, like, "hi," "how are you?", "i'm fine, and you?," and the ever-so useful, "do you speak japanese? my english is not good." he appeared to never use any of these phrases, so he was a god in english compared to you.

it was a miracle you navigated out of the airport with your luggage in hand and a general idea of how to get to the hotel you'd booked. you're not going to talk about the events in the hotel, though. sharing a bed with bakugou was a whole different story that consisted of him complaining about your phone usage at eleven pm and you complaining about his lack of sufficient english skills to be able to get the right hotel room (which he'd retort by saying "at least i speak english!").

the path to your first international competition was rocky, so understandably by the day of the performance, your metaphorical feet were sore and you only had water on your metaphorical mind. that is to say, you hadn't practiced with bakugou once until the day before the performance. said rehearsal was cut short due to misunderstandings as a result of bakugou's apparent not-so-fluency in english. you felt bad for him at this point.

and then you were up on stage, violin in one hand, bow in the other, and arms full of your childhood aspirations. also, definitely not prepared enough. you glanced once at bakugou before beginning and he looked confident enough. the lesson you learned that day was that looks can be deceiving.

something you could remember quite clearly was the way the spotlight shined on the varnish of your instrument as you held it, propped between your chin and shoulder. you focused on this shine before taking a deep breath, closing your eyes, and praying muscle memory would take over and you'd play the piece faithfully to the score.

you liked to think your playing was accurate. you, the soloist, were the main focus of the piece. the accompaniment made the piece richer and fuller, complementing the violin beautifully while keeping attention on said violin. the thing was, bakugou, like you, played like a soloist.

the performance was like a fight, and sadly not the graceful kind you'd see in a ballet. it was gory and a nuance to the ears, melodic tinkling of the piano becoming tears of a soldier dying in combat. at parts, you clashed by overshadowing the other by playing too loudly. sometimes it was you, and sometimes it was bakugou. it was a merciless game of tag; bakugou would be running to keep up with your playing; once achieving so, you were forced to start chasing after him. you can't exactly remember if he played well, though. for certain, he was not in sync with you, but you were mainly too preoccupied with your own playing to pay attention to his. listening to the recording of the performance, you were unable to evaluate his quality of playing properly, and thus, he remained your accompanist even when you returned to japan.

(actually, the biggest reason he stayed your accompanist was because of your classical musician friends' nagging. they were all in complete awe that the famous soloist, katsuki bakugou, had offered to be your accompanist, and begged for an autograph. of course, you declined.)

you figured that like you, bakugou was a soloist. he wasn't fit to assist your playing, far more suited to his own solos to entrance the audience with only his playing. being a soloist, he played like one too - that's simply how things worked. this understanding of him, though, still couldn't stop you from harbouring a small grudge against him for ruining your international debut.

and then there was the man himself, all standoffish and rough in words and persona. obscenities had no hesitation coming (thrust!) from his mouth. he yelled brashly and frequently and it astonished you that he was a classical musician, as most of your friends of the classical music profession were typically on the quiet, softer spoken side. those that were extroverts were optimistically so, in far contrast to bakugou, who you'd expect from looks alone to be playing in some heavy metal band. it was scary to hear his renditions of debussy's dreamy, serendipitous pieces when over your earbuds, he was yelling at some guy named "shitty hair" on his phone. you were curious how he looked recording the piece.

you didn't typically communicate, though. conversation, which only ever existed during rehearsal, was a question from you and a clipped grunt in response. there was nothing else to your relation; he played his part, and you played yours. sometimes you did this simultaneously, but it was as if you were playing two completely different things. performance, according to your friends, was now stilted. this was partially the reason you stopped listening to recorded performances. it wasn’t even like you’d ever derived pleasure from listening to them - you only nitpicked your mistakes.

your old accompanist, momo, on the other hand, was an absolute angel. she was kind, polite, and skilled on the piano, fingers dancing over the keys like a graceful ballet. you fit well with her; each performance was like a delightful conversation between friends, pleasant on the ears and twinkling with joy and laughter. with her, every performance felt like something resembling victory, even if it wasn’t a competition. to you, winning the audience’s gaze was enough.

then again, you didn't feel that you could judge quite yet. momo was your accompanist for years, and you could barely remember how the two of you sounded when you first started out. bakugou had been your accompanist for mere months (though it did feel much, much longer considering how frustrating he could be). you couldn't understand why he became your accompanist at all.

opposites. it was an accurate representation of your relationship with bakugou. he was a pianist, you weren't. he was a prodigy, you weren't. he was blessed with talent, you weren't. there was nothing to talk to him about, obviously, because of these dividing factors.

the longer you knew him, the more your disdain for the man grew. at rehearsals, it always felt like your performances were about him, him, and him. he was the star piano player, of course. he hadn't volunteered to be your accompanist as a sense of "stepping down"; no, no, rather, he was flaunting his piano playing with a violin playing in the background. he played perfectly. for a soloist.

as time passed, these frustrations with him became more and more apparent. you became acutely aware of how his performance would outshine your own, and it sickened you. slowly, the quality of your own performances took a nosedive. if the piece was originally pianissimo, you'd take it up to piano (then, if bakugou increased his volume, forte). if the tempo was andante and he was playing moderato, you'd play allegro. it was a competition at this point - instigated by him, of course. you were just upping the ante, even if it meant sacrificing your own artistry.

a lot of people warned you of what would happen, but you ignored them. the fierce competition you felt between you and bakugou caused your own downfall as a musician. slowly, gigs stopped trickling in, like a faucet being shut off. you blamed this on bakugou. ("i was international before him. now, i can barely get a gig in musutafu! why does everyone think he's so great?" you had fumed over the phone to jirou, your old roommate from university. she asked you if you had even listened to him play.)

you were scrambling for places to perform at this point. (“fire him,” the very unhelpful hagakure told you. you didn’t know what you were thinking when you asked her, a violist in a local orchestra. it wasn’t like she ever got a solo.) you’d seriously considered doing so, but came up empty when looking for another accompanist. online forums and friends’ connections could only do so much. they were all either unavailable during rehearsal schedules or inadequate in terms of adapting to the music given.

“you need to try working together with him,” jirou advised you one day over the phone.

“yeah, say that to yourself and kaminari,” you muttered bitterly under your breath. kaminari was a guitarist in jirou’s band who hadn’t quite gotten along with jirou well. jirou made fun of the lightning bolt streak in his hair. when you first met them, all they did was bicker day and night; now, according to the other guitarist, tokoyami, they still did this, though on a smaller scale.

she heard you. “well,” jirou said, slightly ticked off, “we get along better now. because of communication. look- i’m not saying you need to be best friends with bakugou or anything, but you need to talk to him about what’s working and what’s not. respect him as another musician, y’know?”

“i’ll… try,” you said begrudgingly.

you heard a muffled yell from the other side of the call. “kaminari, you idiot!” jirou called, voice a bit far. “what did i tell you about plugging in the amp? i said not to-” she cut herself off. “sorry, y/n, i need to go now. kaminari’s back to his normal antics.” she sighed, but it sounded more endeared than irritated. the call ended.

respect bakugou as another musician. you could do that. bakugou was only a pianist. you were a violinist. he was your accompanist. he was to support your playing. you’d forever be separated from him, doing your own thing. he, certainly, couldn’t understand the woes of being a violinist. not the intonation nor the techniques; you were sure that if you handed him a violin on the spot, he wouldn’t be able to even hold the bow properly. the notion of bakugou, piano prodigy, struggling to make a decent sound on the violin with a bow clenched in an ungainly grip deeply amused you.

these thoughts kept your relationship with bakugou afloat and restrained you from strangling him every time he stepped a toe out of line during rehearsals. ploddingly, with as minimal communication as you could manage, you tried to play with bakugou together, as a duet rather than as two soloists playing simultaneously. you swallowed your pride to play accurately to the music, patiently explaining any qualms you had with bakugou’s playing.

eventually, you found yourself building up your performances to the quality they had once been with momo. it was still far from the pristine playing that led you to an international invite - but it was an improvement, and that was all that mattered to you. innately, you were slightly ashamed of the thoughts that allowed you to keep working with bakugou. they were thoughts that told of your superiority to him, because he was playing piano for you. that’s all he was; an accompaniment to you. you told yourself that having these thoughts on the inside was better than fighting with bakugou.

somehow, along the strings of notes slurred together and shifts of fingers from one spot on a string to the next, you found yourself experiencing a strange joy gliding your bow against the strings of your violin. the rich sound of your instrument, withering and blooming with every stroke of vibrato you performed, fulfilled you unlike how it ever had before. up until now, you’d been playing for the audience, rather than yourself. the melody reverberating in the hollow body of your violin was never for your own ears to enjoy, it was for the audience’s satisfaction and listening pleasure. for it was their own enjoyment that won you competition after competition, playing with a blank face. on some occasions, you’d open your eyes during the applause to see some audience members crying, which ultimately confused you. how you were able to draw emotions from them with your playing when the music was unable to render you anything but indifferent?

you knew it in yourself, though, that the happiness you felt was hollow. delightful notes supposed to boast joy and love echoed in the rehearsal room, falling flat on your ears.

you were a soloist, though. you couldn’t let thoughts like these get to you. you could only play, for both your pride and your audience. these woes were for you to shoulder, on top of the violin you held between your chin and collarbone.

“you’re here early,” bakugou commented one day, opening the door to your shared rehearsal room. tucked under one arm was his folder of sheet music. he caught you in the middle of practicing one of the pieces for a gig - liebesfreud, by fritz kreisler.

it was true. the morning sun basked the window sill and laminate flooring, warming the particular spots it shone through. you’d arrived an hour or so early. pleased by the bright nature of the morning, you pulled up the blinds. typically, you ran late, arriving ten minutes after bakugou’s text of “you’re late again, idiot” with a coffee and a bagel in your hands. those mornings, you were really grateful for having a case with backpack straps. if you hadn’t the time to eat your bagel on the way to rehearsal, it was cold and hard by the time you had a lunch break.

thankfully, today was not one of those days. whether it was the sun or the title of the piece (“love’s joy,” how wonderful), you’d woken up and decided that today, you’d have a warm and soft bagel for breakfast. you had a coupon for a free coffee and surprisingly, the commute to rehearsals was more punctual than usual. thus, you arrived an hour early, a smile on your face as you opened the door. you opened your case with extra care and rosined your bow with extra zest, humming a tune you heard playing on the radio. bakugou would’ve had a heart attack had he saw you then.

you ignored his entrance, only peeping one eye open at the man and nodding your head toward the piano as you continued on with the piece. you allowed yourself to become immersed in the music, following the soft pace bakugou set in his playing. closing your eyes, you saw the audience before you and felt your fingers sliding and pressing the strings. time flew while playing the piece; you’d barely noticed that the piece was nearing its end, playing its familiar melody one last time before opening your eyes. a glance at the rosin dusted in between the bridge and fingerboard of your violin satisfied you, like salt on caramel. you surely played just as sweet, smooth and saccharine like the gooey texture of a caramel confection. you relished in the sunlight streaming through into the room, ignoring the shuffling of papers behind you (from bakugou, no doubt). that was how you should play.

“something’s off,” you blearily opened your eyes to the sound of bakugou’s gruff voice. he was frowning, eyebrows furrowed in a not atypical manner.

“what,” you said flatly. “it sounded fine to me. i didn’t mess up or anything.”

“no,” he replied, deep in thought, crimson eyes darkening a shade. “we don’t have proper… emotion in the music.”

“huh?” you felt a comical question mark rising out of your head. “i played it perfectly to score. it conveys the composer’s emotions to a t,” you said, getting annoyed with the pianist. your grip tightened on your violin’s neck.

“well- yeah,” he gritted his teeth. “but what about your emotions?”

“who cares about my emotions?” you said. “all that matters is that my playing is perfect. the audience feels the emotions, not me.” why else had you been plucked into violin lessons when you were five? surely not for your own enjoyment.

“idiot, that’s definitely not how it is.”

“it’s just violin playing!” you snapped. “it’s not complicated with- with emotions! it’s the same as anything else!”

“you’re wrong,” bakugou coldly answered.

“what would you understand?” you seethed. “you’re just a damn pianist. you follow my lead.”

he ignored your remarks. “why do you play a fucking instrument, then? why bother to enter competitions or recitals?”

“to win, like any other normal person!”

he let out a clipped, exasperated breath. “fuckin’ explains it, then.” he didn’t elaborate. dismissing the topic, he said, “whatever. play the piece from the top. actually try to look at me this time, so we can stay together. put more emphasis on the downbeat at the start.”

“it’s not like you even heard me play the beginning,” you retorted, but made sure to accent that note even more during the replay. pianists. they always were on their high horses.

something you looked forward to every year was the valentine’s recital. the organizers, an old couple, had known you since you were a child, and thus developed a soft spot for you. you were a shoo-in for the event, relied on to learn the music on a short deadline. last year, you played preludio, from bach’s partita for violin no. 3. this year, though, the catch was weird.

“the letter says it’s a violin duet?” you said to jirou while video calling her. “i don’t have a violinist on hand, just a pianist. it’s not like bakugou can suddenly master violin.”

jirou looked at you with a surprised expression. “you don’t know?”

you stared back at her. “know what?”

“he plays violin, too.”

“huh?” you must’ve misheard her.

she nodded. “he’s pretty good, too. have you not seen the videos?”

“videos?" your eyes widened as you soon realized the implications of bakugou harbouring an aptitude for violin. "i’ve… i’ve got to go.”

“he’s as good as you, y/n,” jirou said with a knowing smile. you were quick to press the hang up button.

five seconds into teenage bakugou’s rendition of one of paganini’s caprices, you exited youtube.

the next day, you kicked open the door to the practice room.

“you,” you pointed a finger at bakugou, who sat at the piano midway through a piece.

“what is it now, dumbass? you’re late again.”

“shut up,” you grumbled. “that’s beside the point. you- you play violin?!”

he shrugged, not avoiding your piercing gaze. “i’ve dabbled in it, yes.”

you shut the door behind you. “and why did you never tell me?!”

“tch. you never asked, did you?”

“you’re my accompanist, i should know these things!”

“you know i play piano, and that’s enough,” bakugou said stubbornly. “i only play piano with you.”

“not anymore.” setting your violin case down, you shuffled through the pocket that held your sheet music. flipping out a packet of sheet music, you thrust it in bakugou’s direction. “here.”

he grabbed the sheets from you, skimming the title. “duo for two violins in…. fuck,” he muttered. “why didn’t you just say no? who even is this from?”

“valentine’s recital. the pay’s good, bakugou, and we need it.”

“you need it,” he mumbled bitterly, holding the sheets out for you. “i don’t.”

“it’s not like i’m happy about it either. since when were you a violinist?”

“since when was it any of your damn business?”

"you're supposed to be my pianist! not anything else!"

you didn’t understand how he could be so musically inclined. you blinked, and your sight smeared, blurring the sight of your feet with the laminate flooring. this wasn't right, you thought as you felt a telltale heat creeping up you. why were you crying now?

if there was one thing you prided yourself on, it was your violin playing. it seemed to be the only thing you were good at as a child when academics and athletics failed you. sure, you hated it at first (as most children did when their parents forced them to do something), but as time went on, the applause of the audience and the title of "winner" rewarded you enough. you were no prodigy, so you worked endlessly every day to prove yourself worthy. you never understood how you'd worked so hard only to be in the shadows of others so naturally gifted who surely would never understand how much you practiced to become better.

when it came to bakugou, he was never supposed to be better. he was your pianist, talented in a completely different musical realm than your own, so he could never be superior to you - and now he wasn't. he never was. here you were for the past year or so, looking like a fool in bakugou's eyes. on the days you struggled so hard with fourth finger vibrato, he was probably laughing at your inadequacy at violin. as easily as he played the violin, katsuki bakugou played you like a fool.

everything collided when you stepped out of the room, leaving a particular golden haired boy alone to stare at the sheet music you tossed him. your head throbbed with the groggy sensation of almost-tears and anger coursed through your veins.

you couldn't back out of the recital now. you couldn't.

you couldn't stand to look back into the vermillion eyes of katsuki bakugou now. even more so now, you couldn't.

your solution?

"hey, what's up?" jirou's collected voice filled your ear, your phone pressed to it.

"hey, kyo, i… kind of did a bad thing," you said, feeling jittery as you sought a commute home. you'd already made up your mind that your sorry-ass wouldn't be able to look bakugou back in the face for the rest of the day.

"...again?" she asked, tone concealing a hint of surprise. "don't tell me it was with bakugou. don't you usually practice now?"

"...usually, yes…" you sheepishly shuffled your feet, standing outside on the sidewalk. "i'll be resuming it again, 'course, when i get home…"

"why aren't you with bakugou right now?"

"that's… that's a long story," you laughed nervously.

"i can wait," jirou coolly replied. "kaminari got his foot stuck in his guitar case - don't ask - so i have time."

you considered asking about kaminari, then thought better of it.

"you know about the valentine's day recital they have every year? well, this year…" you recounted the events that led you to now, standing outside on the phone with jirou.

"where are you going to find a violinist?"

a silence found itself opportune as jirou waited for an answer. "i'm, uh, not…?" you said, deflecting the question back to jirou.

"well, you can't play both parts in the duet, can you? actually, don't answer that. i know you'd try. didn't you try that one time in-"

"what's done in uni stays in uni," you hushed her before she could recall that one time you tried to play a sonata with a recording of yourself. "aren't you going to tell me to try to make amends with bakugou?"

"no," she said thoughtfully after a pause. "you've tried before, and it's not working for you. i don't think you should be forced to do something you obviously don't want to do. i just think," she continued, "you need to find someone to do the duet with, if you don't want to work with bakugou. but objectively, he's your best bet."

as jirou always was, she was right. you thanked her for her advice not before hearing a distraught kaminari shouting for jirou in the background, and then she ended the call.

you repeated her words in your head once you got home, sliding your bow back and forth on your small block of worn rosin. the score for the duet was spread next to you on the floor. it wasn't that you didn't want to work with bakugou. or was it? had you been that selfish all along, sabotaging other performances because you didn't like him? if even jirou had noticed it, had bakugou noticed it too?

your sigh let out a thousand burdens piled up in your mind, blowing air out like dust accumulating on your tribulations. you picked up your violin and bow thoughtlessly, testing out the strings and plucking a couple with your left hand.

was it really only you with the contempt for working with bakugou? you'd assumed mutual hatred with him after your international debut, but had it really been so? had you been the only one picking fights during the time you'd worked together? as you backtracked, your fingers slipped into a familiar position. you began a piece you knew positively by heart, an absolute favorite of yours for years. you played mindlessly, serenading yourself with familiar notes and string fingerings as you thought long and hard about bakugou. how much shit had you given bakugou? he hardly complained, too, but why? why hadn't he quit after you'd been so ceaselessly difficult with him?

why were you so angry at bakugou, a gifted prodigy since childhood? the answer found itself as the composition descended into an array of complicated fingerings and string changes, sounding like an incoherent chaos somehow strung together by the music. you pretended you didn't know the answer.

it was much, much easier to leave bakugou as just a pianist. respectable in his own field, and incomparable to you. it was too good to be true, obviously. all your life, you played to win, and couldn't allow anyone else to surpass you. violin was about winning, winning, winning. how were you supposed to cope when all those hours of practice were easily overcome by someone with innate talent?

the piece eased your tension with a fermata, drawing out your vibrato to think. bakugou's perfection infuriated you, you concluded. knowing this, though, didn't help with anything. you almost screeched the last note as the composition came to an end, unsettled by thoughts of bakugou. you really couldn't stand him.

in an attempt to distract yourself from your dilemma, you decided to start practicing the recital composition. you pulled out an old portable music stand, bending the parts into place and stacking it up. carefully, you placed the sheets on the stand and skimmed over the music, bringing your violin up to your collarbone.

your eyes followed one measure ahead of what you were playing as you sight-read the piece. ahead, ahead, was all you could think as your fingers fumbled the notes, eyes moving from the score to the fingerboard. bakugou was far from your mind as you caught up to the music, too preoccupied with the sharps and flats you'd forgotten and the time you had to keep. you were busied by the shifts and the repeat signs in the music over anything else. your priority lay here for the time being, after all. the sight-reading was almost enough to make you forget you only play one half to a duet. there was still still an emptiness that lurked between the rests and the redundant beats that even your stilted practice couldn't mask. you tried not to worry about that, though.

time floated by as you repeated the piece over and over, playing for accuracy first. it wasn't enough, but you pretended it was. the metronome on your phone ticked away like time, endless and impatient, until you couldn't stand it anymore and packed away your violin.

the proceeding day was filled with more of the same practicing, working on tweaking hesitations and polishing up your playing. it was kind of convenient, practicing at home rather than waking up early to practice with bakugou. you missed the bagel the most.

you were definitely not playing your best, and it was clear by the way your bow occasionally screeched and how you fumbled the fingerings when you were particularly negligent. the piece just didn't sound right without the second part. (bakugou was definitely not the second part missing. not at all.)

by the third day you gave up and admitted to yourself that yes, bakugou was the second part missing. you were only a little bit miserable buying your usual bagel and coffee and rushing to rehearsals fifteen minutes late, aware that you'd be unable to eat it before practice. you were substantially less miserable than how you were the day previous, practicing alone.

you weren't surprised to see bakugou already there, sitting on the piano bench and tightening his bow hairs. he acknowledged you with a grunt as you set down your breakfast and beverage.

"showed up, huh?" he said finally, voice rough. he stood up, setting his sheet music on a stand. you stared at him, awed by his nonchalance. he picked up his violin and bow (which, by the way, looked super expensive) and propped his violin up by his chin. it felt so foreign to see him in position to play violin, fingers already expertly in first position and wrist beautifully curved, yet it inexplicably clicked. the scene in front of you looked like he'd done this everyday, as it was always supposed to have been, his back confidently straight. his fingers arched over the fingerboard and his bow appeared mathematically parallel to the bridge, held delicately between his fingers. you'd never carefully watched him play piano (probably due to your distaste to him and lack of knowledge about the percussion instrument), but he made the violin look like an instrument of the gods. he hesitated, though, bow moving a centimeter then back. he frowned at your idle silence and turned back to you. "well? are we doing this duet or not?"

"oh," you reacted intelligently. "yeah. yeah." it kicked in what you were doing by the time you'd started tuning your violin, first bowing your a string. after tuning your violin (with the help of a tuning fork and none from the perfect-pitched bastard bakugou, who appeared to be watching you with a triumphant gleam in his eyes as you struggled to tune your violin properly), you set your sheet music next to bakugou's.

"ready?" you asked, as if you'd been the one waiting for bakugou all this time.

"ask yourself that," he snorted. "i'll do the count."

you nodded.

"one, two, three, f-"

"wait, wait," you said, squinting at your music. "isn't it supposed to be a bit slower than that?"

"it says allegro," bakugou said, tapping his foot. "need an italian lesson? lively, briskly."

"i know what allegro means," you gritted. "seems too fast, when paired with dolce."

"maybe for you," he smirked.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "and that means what, exactly?"

he opened his mouth to reply some smug, smart-ass answer, but you stopped him.

"nevermind," you said. "do the count again, at the same tempo. i can do it."

you were bluffing, of course. since when was allegro this fast? you wondered as the opening notes sped by you in a musical blur. already familiar with the melody, you messed up dynamics the most. of crescendos and diminuendos? it wasn't like bakugou would notice, too preoccupied with his part.

the ending of the piece took your breath away, storming toward you in a whirlwind. adrenaline filled your veins as you raced to the last measure of the music, overcome by the tempo and the music. this time, full of energy and exhilaration, the piece felt complete. your and bakugou's sound surrounded the two of you, overflowing the room with a saccharine melody. it felt right simply standing beside him playing a two part piece, chest heaving from the piece's energy. you could only hear your breathing, a gentle encore to your playing.

"your playing is sloppy," bakugou said bluntly. he leaned over to your sheet music, starting to point at dynamic markings.

you swatted his hand away before he could say a word. "yeah, well, i just got the music three days ago," you interjected.

"you also had two of the three days off, so i'd say you're not doing enough." he glanced back down at your score. he pointed at a measure. "this is a crescendo, moron, why didn't you get much louder?"

"just- pay attention to your own music!" you said. "besides, it's dolce. i can get away with playing softer."

"that wasn't very dolce to me," he argued. "nothing sweet, soft, or gentle about that," he mumbled.

"i can be sweet, soft, and gentle if i want to!" you retorted.

he raised a brow, as if a challenge, scarlet eyes glinting in the light. "tch. i'm sure you can, but your playing damn can't."

“it can, too! listen,” you said, impetuously raising your violin and bow again. you slowly started to play a d major scale, impatiently scrunching your nose and squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate on making the music soft and gentle, tampering with different degrees of vibrato and bow pressure.

“... that’s just piano,” bakugou said, moving to you as you bowed an a. your bow came to an abrupt halt, making an unpleasant squeal, as bakugou positioned himself behind you. you felt his body warmth radiating behind you as a sweet, homely scent wafted around you. he brought his arms around you, hands overlapping where you held your violin and bow.

“you need to be,” he murmured into your ear, gentle tone almost slurring the words together, "fragile when you play dolce." he angled your bow slightly, moving your hand. "bow closer to the fingerboard." the smooth baritone of his voice resonated within you, becoming lost within the violinist's embrace.

"most of all," he said, dropping an octave to an intimate tone, "you need to feel it. you can attempt to play it, but without feeling, it's fuckin’ meaningless."

"feeling?" you repeated blankly. “the audience’s, you mean.”

he stepped away, a gesture that made you breathless, and shook his head. he crossed his arms over his chest, unintentionally accentuating their volume. “your damn feelings. what do you feel when playing the piece?”

there’s a pause for perhaps a second too long, as you mulled over different answers in your head.

“tch.” his eyes don’t leave you, gaze a laser burning into you. “‘s what i thought. why do you play violin?”

you held your tongue from answering my parents. “to win. i play to win,” you stated.

“and that’s the damn problem,” bakugou said, releasing a breath of frustrated air. “you win to play.”

“that means…?” you were starting to get impatient with the man, who seemed to be stalling and dragging out your limited time.

“you win competitions to play more.”

you almost scoffed, but his words were plausible. “what’s the purpose in playing more if not to win?”

he made a scratching noise in his throat, cool demeanor shifting to that of the bakugou you knew. “l-l-” he coughed, “love.”

“love?” you repeated, the word a surprise to swallow.

he nodded, gagging on his reply. you couldn’t see bakugou as the romantic type - the same bakugou who called all of his friends demeaning nicknames and could barely say the word love out loud. he was explosive, maybe, and talented, sure - but acquainted with love? you pursed your lips at the stuttering man trying to advise you.

“whatever,” he dismissed, voice oddly hoarse. “just play it from the top. fix the dynamics.”

weeks passed in a blur, though bakugou’s advice was left unforgotten. it had, for the most part, faded from your mind but lingered like a ghost in an abandoned attic, stirring up dust in complete silence. it was valid criticism on bakugou’s part, but the problem was that it was criticism you couldn’t digest. it was a ghost that you could not rid of, whispering and lurking until your music played over it.

four weeks before the performance, you had the piece almost entirely memorized other than a few flukes here and there. you managed most of your dynamics, playing in sync with bakugou by your side. three weeks and the piece was mostly smooth, foregoing all sheet music and practicing in the middle of the room with bakugou tapping out the tempo on the honeyed floor. any mistakes were recovered from quickly, and you were pleased to say that the amount of bakugou’s slip-ups equated to yours. at two weeks, though, he brought up the pest bugging your mind.

“play with more emotion,” he sighed exasperatedly, letting out a huff as you played for him. “start on f sharp again.”

you’d tried time and time again, but the longer you’d replayed the same few measures (followed by his criticism for the nth time), the only emotion you felt was frustration. your bow would push too hard or your vibrato would lay on thick, immensely irritating bakugou. you didn’t know why he even tried.

the air felt stale and the lights shone obnoxiously bright. the pads of your left hand fingers had hardened by now, indented with a pair of parallel lines from your unforgiving violin strings. you inhaled rosin dust and occasional bow hairs miserably dropped to the floor. your arms were tired, sore, and sick of playing; your ears painfully endured the same tune again and again, the originally fluid and sweet notes becoming high frequency static.

“i can’t do this.” you were tempted to flop onto the ground, hopelessness pouring over you.

“you can,” bakugou insisted stubbornly. “you just need to try harder.”

“harder?” you would’ve snapped (and you were surprised your e string didn’t already by the repetitive motions on it) if you weren’t so exhausted from rehearsing.

he nodded like it was obvious. “try harder.”

you shakily inhaled, trying to smooth your voice over. “i’m sorry i can’t be a prodigy like you.”

he stiffened, tense to the point of trembling. “whatever,” and it was a strained word pulled from his mouth. it was very atypical for him to give up like this, but you didn't care. you avoided his eyes as you restarted the piece, unable to bloom anything from it.

outside of your rehearsal time, you practiced. arguably, your solo rehearsals were more rigorous. you forced yourself to add emotion to the piece, sometimes playing for jirou. she agreed with bakugou (though was a great deal less irritating), stating that your playing was somewhat hollow. (you restrained yourself from knocking on the instrument and saying that yes, indeed, violins were hollow.)

"how… how do you get any emotions from playing?" you asked jirou at one point, watching one of her band's rehearsals. they were on a break, chatting idly and taking sips from their water bottles.

“well…” jirou started, glancing back at her band members. “i think about the feelings i want the audience to feel because of my songs. i think about how the song makes me feel, then i put that into how i play.”

“how do you…” you shifted uncomfortably, “know what to feel?”

she looked at you, taken aback, but replied easily. “you don’t. it just… happens.”

her response was vastly different than what you’d been taught a child. emotions? sure, there was perhaps a time where playing evoked a feeling in you, plucked something melodical from your heartstrings. it was when you were a child, though, so it was irrational and erratic, an outburst in the middle of your otherwise level playing. your violin teacher didn’t approve when you’d follow how the music made you feel. she said it made you stray too far from the original piece and would make you lose competitions. no matter how you pushed back against her, her advice haunted you over and over every time you got anything other than first place.

your performance is the audience, she’d told you. you didn’t understand what she meant at first, but she made sure you did while practicing for your next rehearsals. the audience, she quipped with thin lips under her sharp eyes, is everything. if the audience wasn’t satisfied, your performance was worthless, no matter how well you played technically. you play for them and you win - it was that plain. there was nothing more than you wanted but to win, at the time. you wanted a trophy, a medal, a certificate stating that you were better than most. it was palpable evidence that you were good enough - for your parents, your peers, anyone. like that, you practiced, a servant for approval. you weren’t a prodigy, but you sure as hell would try to play like one. her advice worked for over a decade, soundly racking you up with countless awards that filled your otherwise desolate self-esteem.

you didn’t say anything else to jirou about it, instead thinking about the bits and pieces of human feeling you could extract in between your piece’s accidentals and eighth notes. perhaps there was a possibility, through the phrases of notes and dynamic markings, you’d find a word that said love. a renewed interest sparked itself when jirou’s band continued their rehearsals, finding yourself to be a normal audience member (maybe even crying at the end. maybe).

you returned home to practice, practice, practice, coercing any hidden message in the music to vibrate in your violin and echo around your room. you watched other renditions of the piece to find something you were missing, but imitating them didn’t seem right. this continued for the following weeks, hiding any potential development from bakugou (or trying to, at least). you knew you’d be disappointing him if you failed after trying so hard. it was only safe to play what you knew, secure in the written parts of the composition and keeping it at that.

by the time the performance came around, you were glad bakugou never found out about your secret efforts. if he had, you knew he’d be sorely dispirited by your lack of tangible progress, your sound just as hollow as the soundbox of your violin. you failed, you knew, and as crestfallen as you were on that cold february morning, the show must go on.

the performances were held in an auditorium, warm compared to the snowy wonderland outside. it was typically couples comprising the audience, all romantic and pepped up in the spirit of valentine's day (white day was no different). some arrived early, finding seats in the empty auditorium and chatting amongst themselves (or sometimes making out, which made you want to throw your violin at them and gag). bakugou’s and your performance was last; it quite the heavy honor to play the finale to the recital.

backstage was a vast contrast to the hushed atmosphere settled over the assemblage. hovering over the staff and performers for the day was a sense of panic, hurry, and hecticness. bits of rosin were scattered on the ground where you prepared for your rehearsal, some belonging to your block and others not. your pack of extra strings lay next to you on the sofa you sat on, arm resting on the side of the seat. similar to your violin's strings, spun tightly over pegs to be kept in place, you felt high-strung. the buzz of energetic excitement flitted in your head, knee bumping up and down and jerking your violin in the same motion. it was hard to calm when you tuned your violin to absolute perfection, relying on bakugou's perfect pitch to do so. the fine tuners on the end of your strings probably hadn't had a harder time in the years you'd owned your violin.

"you're shaking the entire sofa, idiot," bakugou deadpanned next to you. “some of us are trying to rosin our bow, unlike you.” he glanced at the floor, where amber shards of rosin lay amidst white dust (also made of rosin).

“to be fair, most of those aren’t mine,” you pointed out. you reached into your violin case, finding the rectangular case of rosin and opening the top. "mine's only chipped in a couple corners, and the rest is just worn on the edges from my bow."

you leaned over to look at bakugou's rosin, two stubs in its case. "and i'm the one dropping my rosin?"

his ears turned a deep red, matching the velvet curtains on stage. "that's different," he muttered, putting the lid on his rosin and putting it away.

"you ready?" you watched him swallow before speaking, not looking at you. you could hear one of the presenters speaking, introducing the first piece to be played (an ever-so romantic rendition of clair de lune), but the voices felt distant and muffled over the sound of your own nervous heart beating.

"yeah," he replied. he turned to look at you, scarlet eyes meeting your own. "what, you're not scared now, are you, dumbass?"

you gulped. "no… just excited," you said. in truth, you felt disappointed in yourself for being unable to find any emotion in your playing - thinking about the piece, you were devoid of anything but the measures and the notes. what was the piece trying to say in the white space between staff lines? after the clef at the beginning of the music, where did the emotions start and everything else end?

quiet notes, twinkling from the piano on stage, met your ears. you took a deep breath. how did they make you feel?

…not very good, because this pianist was certainly a beat or two off tempo. a large hand on your knee startled you out of your trance. its warmth was surprisingly comforting. you followed the arm connecting to the hand to meet bakugou's concentrated face, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched.

"don't shake your knee like that. also, why are you so damn cold?" he moved his hand away, leaving an imprint of heat on your knee. you hadn't noticed the physical manifestation of your nerves prior to bakugou's words.

you left his question unanswered, staring at your violin in your lap. you traced the patterns in wood, fingers following the shape of the f-hole and thumbing circles on your chin rest. how were you supposed to be able to pull living, breathing life in the form of emotions from an inanimate object? what sorcery were you supposed to manage to satisfy yourself and the audience?

you thought back to bakugou's words. what was it had he said you were supposed to be playing for? love, the irrational and sentimental flaw of life - somehow expressed from the symbols on a sheet of paper and through strings on hollow wood. what sort of miracle was bakugou creating with his music?

what was violin, if not just a task to do everyday? what was it, out of competitions and tests of skill? what was the sound reverberating within its vacant body, recording every shift of fingers on the fingerboard?

you looked past your violin to the rosin on the floor. friction, your violin teacher had explained to you. you put rosin on your bow so it creates friction with the strings, and thus creates sound. it was strange how friction caused the smooth sound of a violin. too much friction, added by pressure on the bow, made a creaky sound on the strings. without rosin, the bow would be too smooth on the string and make no noise at all. the happy medium of not too much and not too little created the familiar rich tone on the strings.

a happy medium, you mused. in between too much friction and none at all. maybe that was how you were supposed to feel, in between trying too hard and not trying at all. that's what feelings were in the end, right? a natural human instinct, spurred by life. could you breathe life into the music?

the stage seemed almost too big for the two of you, spotlights centering you on the wide, wooden platform. the crowd's eyes were on you and your fellow violinist, some watching with drooping eyelids. they felt far, distant under the shadows. even so, the question still besieged you - would you please them?

you teared your eyes away to bakugou, who started the count. everything was silent until he nodded to you, your cue to start the piece. it felt too fast when you began but it was the same allegro you’d been practicing with. muscle memory took control now, your fingers finding their places easily.

your fingers and bow took all your attention. everything else fell away - the lights, the crowd, the stage - until it was just you, your violin, and the music. you could practically see the score in your head, playing the notes you'd come to know so well.

you heard your music echo and resound off the walls, but that's all it seemed to do. it touched everyone in the room, looking for a place to stay, and diminished in an empty space alone. it frustrated you that it wouldn't resonate - where was the love bakugou had so told you of? this auditorium was no different than your room, where sounds bounced off walls and landed nowhere. you weren't reaching anywhere or anyone, lacking emotion and any true substance.

love - what was love if not a hindrance? how could bakugou expect so much out of you? love - had you ever felt it for the violin? dolce told you to play sweetly, softly, and gently, but what was sweet about the violin? what was so sweet about the imprints of strings on your fingers, fragmented rosin at your feet, and bruises on your neck from long hours of practice? what was gentle about the arduous replaying of the same measure, the ringing in your ears after playing to master a simple phrase? what was soft about the forte that rang in your head, the fortissimo that filled a performance and clouded your senses?

dolce filled you like an epiphany, euphoric in your eyes that finally opened and awakened. dolce was in bakugou's eyes, soft velvet like the crimson curtains onstage, downcast at his violin. dolce was in his sound as his bow skittered near the fingerboard, in his fingers sliding back and forth on his a string. dolce was in his grasp of his bow and violin, in the very essence he played the violin with. dolce contradicted everything you knew, reminding you of bakugou's soft hands over yours, guiding your fingers and bow. dolce was the morning light streaming into the practice room as you argued with bakugou over tempos and notes, the light glinting on shattered shards of rosin as you anxiously rosined your bow. dolce was the curve of your violin scroll, the bend of your fingers over your bow's frog. dolce was the white space in between staff lines on your sheet music and through half and whole notes. dolce was everything in between the rough of your violin experience, the laughter and smiling gone forgotten during sleepless practice sessions and violin evaluations.

what was dolce, if not a rebellion? what was it, if not a rebellion from the years of work and pain you'd endured in the name of musicality? what was it, if not laughing in the face of your violin instructors and the strict score you adhered to?

when you opened your eyes to meet bakugou's, whose carmine eyes dripped with a burning passion and the essence of souls, you finally felt. it was the so-sought over love, scorching every note and stroke of your bow and bursting life in every movement, breath, and echo of your performance. it was exhilarating, living through every slur and chord you played. when you finally met his eyes he understood, a satisfied smile tugging on his lips as his gaze never left yours. this was it - this was dolce, humming sweetly, softly, and gently in your ears and reflecting in the audience's heart. this was dolce, making you realize that you never wanted to play violin alone again.

you picked up a rose that had landed at your feet at the end of your piece, holding it next to bakugou's confused face. in doing so, you reached your second epiphany of the day - perhaps the more important of the two. bakugou's eyes bloomed redder than the rose, deeper than the lowest note on a double bass, and maybe it was he that was the true dolce you were looking for.

notes!!

if you’re reading this, congrats !! this is my longest fic on my account (the record will be broken soon), so i really appreciate you reading this :> (spare a reblog, perhaps?)

first, explaining the playlist:

beethoven’s kreutzer - this was played in the anime, “your lie in april,” and i simply think it fits the “fight” reader and bakugou have. this was played at reader’s first international recital that did not go so well.

kreisler’s liebesfreud (love’s joy) is in the same series as his piece called liebesleid (love’s sorrow), also featured in “your lie in april.” i personally really like the piece. of all of these listed, i think you should listen to this one the most.

beriot’s duo concertante was the other contender for reader and bakugou’s duet piece!

debussy’s clair de lune is simply a favorite of mine. it’s the first piece played at the valentine’s performance (and i like to imagine reader’s listened to bakugou’s recording of the piece)

spohr’s duo for 2 violins is the piece reader and bakugou play! it’s the second part of the duo in allegro, and i once tried to listen to it while following the sheet music. i was so confused every time i did so; i’d get lost and such, and figured my musicality was declining. nope. i was reading the wrong part. so, i started freaking out because oh god the dolce is in the first part, not the second, and thankfully, there’s a bit of dolce in the second part too! however, it did take me a while to decide whether to use the first part instead.

also, spohr invented the chinrest on the violin! crazy :D

paginini’s 24th caprice is considered the hardest out of all 24 caprices. imagine,,, teenage bakugou playing this,,, doing the left hand pizz and all T^T pain

there’s a lot i wish i could cover in this! a lot of reader’s own flaws (ahem, viola jokes) and development were something i couldn’t cover. bakugou’s arc as well! he had an arc a bit before this story takes place :)) tl;dr i’m very tempted to pick my violin up again and start playing

the frog of the bow does not, sadly, go ribbit. it’s the part violinists hold the bow by!

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this :)

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou fluff #bnha fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #bakugou angst #bnha angst #luna's writing #violinist bakugou

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abittersweetsongforyou · 3 years

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wtfock fic recs part 2

saddle up for pt 2 babyyyy

wtfock fic recs pt 1

the underrated (just read them trust me they're brilliant)

wishing, wanting and longing by dottori

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart by orphan_account This isn't our first time around by noobishere this is us, through your eyes by dottori - with yasminas season starting id like to draw everyones attention to this fic from yasminas pov its sweet and sentimental and lovely and the fact that it has under 100 kudos is a fucking crime Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps) by berrevy - i love this author so much and this fic is so good, i love the way they're written here, the description is beautiful, 10/10 A morning without you is a dwindled dawn by Createdforyou - so soft i love seeing them just living their lives together Elayna Aan Zee by zetaphiuchi(ryuujitsu) - this one is sad and maybe sander forgives too quickly but its beautifully written and i love it you're an angel in disguise (you're an angel in my eyes) by thekardemomme - this is so sweet and lovely and warm everyone should read it I do now. by irregardlxss - robbe tells jens about the hate crime dreaming of you by ivy_seas - just them being happy at christmas time hold all my cliches on the tip of my tongue by nbrook - they're dorks and they're too horny for their own good but they love each other very much i've never been in love (but i wanna be, i wanna be) by ladypeaceful - what if sander took noors place at the party in episode 1 we have the stars (and this is given once only) by merengue - military au but also childhood friends and its so soft and beautiful and they love each other so much Agents Sliding Down The Chimney by berrevy - i seriously cannot recommend berrevy enough this is a christmas fic thats a little sad but also a whole lot sweet and very real which is what i like

angst bby

I follow you (deep sea, baby) by emotionalgoblin - sander pines in my mind, in my head by cubedmango - canon divergence for s3 last two episodes

gonna help you be free, honey by lamourestout - aftermath of the hate crime

We're always gonna be contaminated by nbrook - sander fucked upppp and everyone is sad but they communicate so its fine

the night we met by themoongirl - college au, sad boys :(((

show me some stars (beneath this ceiling) by peaceoutofthepieces - five times robbe wishes he could wake up next to sander and one time he does You're always there for me by nbrook - the s4 car accident aftermath (don't want anything) but all of you by MajorAccent - s4 car accident but extra extra angsty i know someone who kisses the way (a flower opens) by romantiser robbe and sander see each other again after sander paints the mural

sander and robbe being so in love it hurts

he is the one by themoongirl - marriage proposal im soft

I'm holding my breath, as the seasons change by bruisingknees - robbe moves out of the flatshare

new year's eve by themoongirl - sander is sad but robbe is soft

all you never say by nothingbutniall - fluffffff

you're the one that i want by themoongirl - sander needs reassurance

dark paradise by luckycharmz - sander is coming out of a low and robbe takes care of him

i was grounded (while you filled the skies) by wafflesofdoom - theyre in love okay

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance by allforyoumylove - theyre childhood friends and theyre in love

oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by alsjeblieft - sander painting robbe

Early Morning Dancing by teen_content_queen - flatmates dance in the morning v v cute

(inside my head) I've been at war by nothingbutniall - they're so soft pls

The sun came up and I was looking at you by allforyoumylove

Baby, Home Is In Your Arms by clarecas - robbe comes home to sander after his exam

don't be scared, you are my rock by peaceoutofthepieces - sander is sad but robbe is there purple lips (underwater) by dottori - fluff so much fluff i love it sm

in all your gorgeous colors by nothingbutniall - sander paints robbe you're still the that i love (the only one i dream of) by thekardemomme - i couldve also put this in the angst category but they just love each other so much its so beautiful My darling, I'm rooting for you by allforyoumylove - sander is having a depressive episode and robbe loves him fully formed, ready to run by MajorAccent - sander is down and robbe just wants to be with him paper rings by thekardemomme - they love each other so much and theyre going to get married one day i've always wanted a (boyfriend) by thekardemomme - christmas is sanders favourite holiday and robbe doesnt love christmas but he loves sander Come lie with me by allforyoumylove - they're roommates but they cuddle and fall in love glimpses by foxsake5 - theyre just living their lives, being in love, as they should

boyfriends being boyfriends

I absolutely adore you but we're absolute beginners by nbrook - sander is adorable

boy, i fucking got you by noobishere - yeah its rated e but its so sweet okay

Lovesick by szamsson - sander picks robbe up from school

you're a wonder under summer sky by nothingbutniall - boyfriends go camping

memories painted with much brighter ink by nothingbutniall - Christmas gift giving at the flatshare

we're keeping it simple by noobishere - eenvoud babyyyyy

Meet me in the hallway by nbrook - ahsdka Milan

double date. by fockinglevendcliche - double date with amber and aaron

back to the beach house. by fockinglevendcliche - sander wants to get it on and robbe is weak but their friends are assholes

take me with your constant shame by peaceoutofthepieces - cute date hold me close by sincerelysobbe - robbe is stressed and sander is the best boyfriend you charge me up (like electricity) by howlingsaturn - secret boyfriends if you say swim by soundnvision - another date another pool Modern Love by angelboygabriel - okay yes this is e rated but their. boyfriends and they're happy they're just also horny mkay You make me feel like I am whole again by nbrook - robbe has a rough day but sander is there being all cute and making it better I've been looking so long at these pictures of you by nbrook - much banter very cute You're my favourite kind of night by nbrook - at a halloween party finally kissing the right people Show me a piece of your heart, show me a piece of your love by nbrook - boyfriend tag for the broerrrs channel, unfinished but so much fun thus far working double time by noobishere - sander is wearing a turtleneck and he looks hot in it Ground Control by angelboygabriel - christmas clinging and sex because why not oh and they're in love hopeless romantics by thekardemomme - it's their anniversary and ugh they love each other sm sander driesen versus a mistletoe by dottori - its christmas and sander just wants to fucking kiss robbe okay high for this by flowermaze - sander is drowsy and still finds time to flirt with robbe All You've Got to Do Is Win by berrevy - they actually do play that tennis match years kept in minutes by peaceoutofthepieces - they have traditions and its adorable pls love is the opening door by cryingcancer - robbe and sander facetime on their anniversary after sander was sappy on instagram Home by foxsake5 - sander is a massive simp and robbe looks hot in a robe You don't have to say you're mine by nbrook - robbe is a little insecure and sander is there to reassure him Distracting by sincerelysobbe - v v v cute jahsdjah sander is weak for robbe we all understand bro February 14th, 2021 by foxsake5 - no words bro just cute af if we can make it through december (maybe we'll make it through forever) by nothingbutniall - sobbe at the christmas market This = Love by nbrook - robbe is hungover and sander loves to tease him They ain't living life like this by Createdforyou - halloween but this year they're together

sexy times

Woensdag 16:36 by Anonymous

i don't even wanna fuck, i just like you by eversincewefellapart

Vrijdag 18:26 by Anonymous - hurt and comfort

video phone by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - quarantine times

Don't know where I'm going from here (but I promise it won't be boring) by skamsnake

snakebite by Anonymous

Zaterdag 09:58 by foxsake5

Wildfire by sincerelysobbe - no smut just kissing but they steamy

come on (mess me up) by MajorAccent - sex but tender 🥺

The Teenage Trifecta by little_but_fierce

i glow pink in the night in my room (blossoming alone over you) by midsummernightoddity

life is a pop of the cherry by icedwhitemocha - the hotel

Ik Win by Anonymous

In his arms tonight by allforyoumylove

long may he reign by tokyometropolis(meohorany) - well considered smut jsdhjhd

Draw Me Closer by skamsnake

When I live my dream (please be there to meet me) by skamsnake

we click, we go boom! by strangeparties Dark Red by nancy_mcfly - friends with benefits play the game of grown-ups by Anonymous - they have a lot of sex but its because they're in love

#wtfock #wtfock fic #wtfock fanfic #wtfam

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

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📽 📼LET’S (NOT) KEEP IT PG PART 3 📼 📽

Prompt: Drew and Y/N are reunited once again

Word count: Long!

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18, fluff (by the end), smut, vaginal sex, anal sex, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69, anal plug, dirty talking, trichophilia (hair kink - pulling), asphyxiation kink (breath play - chocking) in other words: just pure filth😈

Tagging: @jibbles26 , @akiko-tanaka , @blondekel77 , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic

Notes: Originally this shouldn’t be up until March but you already know me: I have no self respect at all! In a conversation with the lovely Marissa aka MJ, aka @howdareyouhydra. She asked if I could come up with a part 2 and 3 for the original “Let’s (Not) Keep It PG”. Part 1 and 2 are already up (you can read it on my Masterlist) and this is the finale: part 3! I thought to myself: Go big or go home! So here’s the result of it! Also: I tried to keep it “as real as possible” SPECIALLY with the first time anal thing. I just want to put it out there that communication is KEY and HIGHLY important kiddos, so please before doing the dirty business find someone who will truly care about you and your wellbeing! Not only with their own pleasure, ok?!...Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊)You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

❤️Drewy❤️: I’ll be home in 20 minutes

I reread the message Drew sent me once more. Staring to feel the goosebumps all over my skin.

I was patiently waiting for him in the bedroom, dressed in a lavender mini circle skirt; nude underneath it, a white tulle crop top with my breasts bare and some sheer white medium length socks.

I listen to the sounds of Drew’s heavy footsteps upon the dark wooden stairs, that are now leading him to our bedroom.

The door swung open and an impatient Drew, dressed in a black dress shirt and pants comes in my direction.

“Finally!” He grunts, giving me a bear hug while inhaling deeply upon the nape of my neck “Argh, I missed ya so much. I missed your smell, your skin, your lips” He kisses me urgently.

“I missed you too baby, those two months without you were a literal hell” I close my grip tighter around his neck.

“I know, princess” He coos “But we’ll have one whole week to make up for lost time” Smiling he kissed me again

“How’s daddy’s little girl doing?” He whispered

“Lonely, without you,”

“We’ll fix that right away, love” He began to kiss my neck

“Daddy...I have a surprise for you” I smirked when he backed away to look at me

“Surprise?”

I nod “Yeah, while daddy was away I took the time to prepare myself so daddy can claim the one thing he hasn’t claimed yet”

I watch as all the blood from Drew’s face is drained in disbelief

“Did you really?” He breathlessly asked

“Yes, do you wanna see it daddy?” I deviously grinned

Drew just nods, completely speechless as I lean in all fours on top of the bed with my bottom facing him. He scooted closer and lift my skirt slowly up to my hips, moaning a long ‘fuck me’ in a thick accent when his eyes encounter the beautiful dark pink with a flower base, glass butt plug.

“Did you liked my surprise, daddy?” I smiled innocently, looking at him over my shoulder.

“Liked? Oh love, I hope you’re not planning to go somewhere tomorrow ‘cause I’m sure you won’t be able to even get up from the bed!” He caresses my butt cheeks “You’re so perfect, princess. So fucking perfect” He praised “Turn over and lay down for me, love”

Drew unbuttoned his dress shirt, eyes glued to mine. He slowly takes the shirt off, letting it slide through his arms until it reached the floor, followed by his pants and underwear.

He kneels down, dragging me closer to him. The movement made my skirt go up to my waist.

“I missed this sweet pussy” He let a glob of spit fall upon my clit so it would drip down to my entrance. Drew watched until his spit reached the bedsheet, only then leaning in to give me long, teasing licks until he focused on my clit and slid one finger in.

“You managed to get even tighter without daddy, love?” He added a second finger in “I can barely fit two fingers inside of you”

He moves his fingers at a slow pace as he incredibly softly sucks on my clit.

Low moans fell from my lips when he speeds the pace of his fingers and tongue

“Daddy, please” I beg

“What do you want, princess?”

“I want daddy’s cock on my mouth” I babble

Drew slowly removes his fingers, lay down on the bed and motions for me crawl to him.

“Straddle my face, baby” He says panting

As soon as he has his face between my thighs he pulls my core towards his face and I lean down to suck him off.

The bedroom soon filled with our muffled moans of pleasure. I can feel my orgasm reaching close, making me suck Drew even harder. He slides two fingers in, pumped twice and that was enough to make me reach my high. With Drew’s own orgasm followed by, once he feels my walls suck his fingers in.

I swallowed his seed, turning over to meet his blue eyes.

“Come here” He beckons me

I crawl to him, hovering his body. He rapidly pulled me up, so he could kiss me vigorously.

“Think you can take another round right now? ‘Cause I want that pussy AND that ass” He nibs my jaw

“I’ve been waiting two months for that. Ruin me, daddy” I smirked

“Oh princess, you should’ve chose wiser words” He laughs, entering my core in one swift motion and wasting no time to pound me roughly.

“Oh fuck” I moaned. The way the butt plug pushed my walls further to the front, made the whole pounding feel like it never felt before. The whole sensation was like being doubled penetrated.

Drew close his fingers around my neck, pressing it lightly as he kisses me, tossing his free arm around my waist to keep me in place.

“Did you missed daddy’s cock, princess?”

I nod lightly

He releases his grip on my neck to only keep my head in place by locking his thick fingers on top of my head, firmly gripping my hair.

“Did you missed the way how daddy’s cock stretches your pussy, love?”

I nod again

“I bet your vibrator can’t do that, can it?”

“No, daddy. Only you can” I whispered

“Argh” He growls and pounds me even harder “I love how your pussy feels around my cock baby” He pulls me down by my hair so his lips can whisper in my ear every kind of obscenity you can think off: how good I felt, how his cock missed me, how he couldn’t wait to fuck my ass...With every filthy word his accent grew thicker and thicker. Drew always knew that dirty talking was my weakness and also the fastest way to make me cum.

It didn’t take long for me to reach my second orgasm, he continued to pound me but this time it was softer, making the orgasm last longer.

Drew caresses my cheeks, whispering

“Are you ok?”

*Always so thoughtful* I thought

“I’ll be better once you fuck me in the ass” I giggled and he laughs

“There’s nothing that I want more right now than to fuck your ass, baby. But I don’t want to push ya too far...I don’t wanna hurt ya” He brushes my hair with his fingers

“Drew” I caress his beard “I love how much you care about my wellbeing, but trust me, tiger: You won’t hurt me and I’m still really turned on, so would you please, kindly, fuck me?” I bat my lashes

“You’re gonna kill me someday, woman” He grunts, carefully sliding out of me

“Where’s the lube?” He asks in a raspy voice

“Nightstand”

He got up from the bed and took the plastic bottle on his hand, leaning down to kiss me softly

“I love you Y/N”

“I love you too, Drewy”

He smiles fondly “Turn around, princess”

Drew squirted some of the lube on his length, carefully took out the glass plug and squirted more lube upon my hole, inserting one finger in and out

“Are you ready, love?”

“Drew, stop teasing me” I yelped

“So eager, aren’t you?” He laughs, positioning his cock’s head upon my hole, carefully entering me.

The feeling was...new, the fact that I took my time to prepare myself with the plugs undoubtedly helped, a lot! He entered easier than if I didn’t had, but at the same time Drew is thicker and bigger than the butt plug so the pressure was different. Not hurtful, just new. He was half way in when he stop it.

“Are you ok, baby?” He asks, drawing soothing circles with his palm on my back

“Yeah, it’s just different”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different...weird” I laughed lightly

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No”

“Y/N, love. Talk to me, I need to know how you’re feeling” Worry surrounding his voice

“It doesn’t hurt or anything like that, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just that you’re bigger AND thicker than the plug, so it’s a new feeling that’s all. But not bad, you’ve got the green light Scotsman” I joke

“Ok” He chuckled “But if at anytime you feel like you wanna stop, you let me know ok?”

I nod

“I’m serious Y/N, at ANYTIME”

“Noted!” I mock him and gained a hard slap on my ass

Drew slowly moved until he was buried deep inside.

“Motherfucker” He faintly moaned and stayed still for what it felt like ages

“Drew, are you ok back there?” I mock “Aren’t you gonna move?” I ask

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second” His voice breathless “I need to focus, because you feel too fucking good and I will be damned if I cum just now! So I just needed to breathe” He says and slowly started to move.

The once weird feeling became extremely erotic when he started to move. It was still different, but incredibly good.

“Daddy” I call

And look behind my shoulder to see Drew’s eyes glued to the sight of his cock going in and out of my ass and I could swear, I saw some drool escaping his lips. I’ve never seen him so turned on before and the vision woke up a primal part in me.

“Daddy” I call again, but this time louder

He awakens from his lust haze and stopped moving

“What’s wrong princess? Do ya want daddy to stop?”

“No” I whined “I want daddy to go faster”

“Faster? Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please daddy” My eyes pleaded to him

Drew circled one arm around my waist, pulling me up and out of my in all fours position so I could be kneeling down on the bed and started to increase his pace.

One arm around my waist, another vigorously gripping my hip and a fast pounding got me moaning loudly.

He started to bite my cheek, neck and jaw line, making me lift my arm up so I could bury my fingers on his dark hair, keeping his face glued to mine.

Drew releases his grip upon my hips to roam down and rub my clit.

“In, put it in, please” I babble incoherently but he (thankfully) understood

Entering my core with two fingers and roughly finger fucking me.

It was all too much and too good. His cock inside my hole, his fingers in my core, the biting, the moaning...it was all so dirty and lustful.

“I’m gonna need you to cum princess, Right now!” He mumbled

With two more thrusts I came the most eye rolling orgasm I’ve ever had in my life! I was coming down from my high, when I felt Drew pulling out and the hot spurts of his thick seed landing on my butt cheeks.

I collapse onto the bed, with Drew landing by my side a few seconds later, after cleaning us up.

“That was...beyond this world” I mumbled with my face pressed against the mattress

He laughed loudly before saying

“YOU are beyond this world!” He pulls me towards him like a rag doll, turning me over so I could lay on my back “Are you ok?”

“Drew, I’m fine! More than fine” I giggled

“Are you sure I wasn’t too rough?”

I lightly touch the frown between his eyebrows “You’re never too rough, you’re a perfect gentleman every single time” I pecked his lips

He shyly smiles, slightly blushing

“Thank you for the surprise. I really, really loved” He said and stared at me for a few minutes

“What?” I ask, feeling incredibly exposed due to his intense staring

“You’re so beautiful, on the outside undoubtedly! But on the inside as well. Just so beautiful...I can’t imagine my life without you” His voice is in pure awe

I never knew how to react whenever he said those sort of sweet and deep words to me, Drew was always the romantic one: expressing himself, talking about his feelings and wishes. Me? I was the complete opposite: shut down, didn’t like to show that many emotions, didn’t knew how to express my feelings. I was ‘the ice queen’ as he used to tease me ever since we’ve met. It took me precisely 2 YEARS to take the courage to finally say that I loved him, when he was able to do it after 2 months!

I didn’t knew how to reply to his beautiful, kind, loving words so I decided to deal with it, my way: Break the uncomfortableness with a joke

“Does that means my Voodoo dolls have worked then?” I narrowed my eyes “You got no choice but to stay with me forever, McIntyre” I chanted as if it was a spell

He laughs like a child, cups my cheeks and says

“I do have a choice, love! And I choose you, everyday! Today, tomorrow and forever! My one only gal” He winks and I blushed

Already thinking what other joke could I crack in order to break the spell he casted on me now...

Please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedback is always appreciated 🥰😘

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fanfic #drew mcintyre x oc #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre one shot #drew galloway #drew mcintyre #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #masochist writes

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peach-pops · 4 years

Text

Famous S/O HC

This is very self-indulgent cause I’m the type to make up fake scenarios where I’m famous and going on interviews and press tours asfjdks. If you guys want, I’ll make more of these! Oikawa+Tsukishima underneath the cut!

How The Haikyuu Boys Find out that You’re Famous

-Bokuto- (Pro-Athlete)

Bokuto knew you were an athlete but he had NO IDEA that you were super famous. Like he always thought it was normal for people to come up to you after your game to ask for pictures or autographs ???

I mean that’s why he was so drawn to you because of how much passion you had for your said sport cause duh he could relate

One day when you two were out at the mall, he told you that he needed to get new shoes to work out in and so the two of you went into the Nike store so he could look around

He was looking through the shoe aisle and after almost two hours of looking through the same shelves, he finally found a pair he liked (shopping with him is so time-consuming but that’s for a different day)

when he found a pair he liked, the two of you made your way to the cashier to pay for his shoes. As the cashier was ringing Bokuto up, his eyes traveled up to the large poster/banner that was directly behind the cashier’s area and smiled to himself

It was a colorful promotional banner with a bunch of top athletes from around the world and as he’s looking at the banner, he sees this girl and he nudged you like,” Babe, she looks like you!”

You look up from your phone and sure enough, you’re plastered on the wall posing with other athletes

“ Oh yeah, I didn’t think this shoot would come out until next month.”

Bokuto didn’t even process what you just said but my dude behind the cash register stopped scanning the shoes to turn his head to the banner and he turned PALE.

He even does a double-take cause hold up, is there seriously a pro athlete in front of him?

“ Oh my god...You’re Y/N L/N!”

“ How do you know my…” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the banner again and he even squinted like hold up

AND IT ALL SUDDENLY CLICKS FOR HIM

“ Y/N? That’s you!”

“ Yeah-”

Bokuto can’t even believe it and he totally spaced out when you take a selfie with the guy behind the register with the banner in the background like UMMM HIS GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS WHAAAAAA

“ YOU’RE ON A NIKE POSTER OH MY GOD! LOOK YOU’RE ON THIS MAGAZINE WHA-”

Dude is totally making a scene in this store but he does not give a single fuck

As he’s walking you back home, he’s looking up all of your stats and even watches a compilation called “ 100 times Y/N L/N was a beast!” and he’s just shooketh

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A FREAKING PRO ATHLETE??”

“ I didn’t think it was a big deal I mean, you’re pretty famous too babe.”

“ I DON’T HAVE A PROMOTIONAL BANNER WITH NIKE!”

He’s not salty at all he’s just a bit emo cause he felt bad that he never even noticed before

As your fame grows, so does Bokuto’s with his volleyball career. You and him are described as a powerhouse couple and it really hypes the two of you up like THE POWER YALL POSSESS TOGETHER ON AND OFF THE COURT/FIELD/WHATEVER

Lots of training together and joint interviews together like Wired autocomplete or your favorite ~THIRST TWEETS~

“ ~Bokuto could spike a volleyball in my face, crack my nose in two different places, and I’d thank him~ oh my god that’s horrible I would never do that.”

“ I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you?”

“ That was different anyway, your turn Y/N!”

*passes that clunky ass bucket*

“ ~Y/N L/N, please tie me up and- oh my god this is too dirty I can’t! My mom will watch this!”

If you’re a pro volleyball player, you two get compared a lot and it bugged you at first since you felt like you two were two very different in terms of playing style but after a while, you both started to encourage the idea of your own playful rivalries like comparing stats and wins

But if you’re in a different sport, you two get asked questions like who’s sport is harder or what it would be like if you two switched sports like??? But because you two are in different fields, you both have such major respect for each other cause you can’t even imagine how much hard work it is

He absolutely does not mind it at all when fans approach you two if you guys are on a date. He knows how important your relationship with fans are, especially if they’re younger girls who look up to you as a role model

Bokuto will fall in love with you all over again whenever you crouch down to a younger fan ughhhghgh

He doesn’t care for the paparazzi to be honest. he knows it comes with the territory but he will get a bit protective if they start to get too close to you

“ Hey, we’re just trying to get back home so just let us through please,” but if it continues, he will not give a single fuck about being nice,” dude, what did I just say? Back off!”

Mad!bokuto will be the death of me

He knows how stressful it is being a pro athlete but he will always remind you how proud he is of you and if he ever sees you overworking, he will make sure you take a day off even if that means just napping together all day

Long story short, Bokuto would be amazing to have by your side as you’re navigating being in the public eye and you may quote me on that

-Oikawa- (Actress)

This attention whore I swear

So Oikawa knows that you act but he doesn’t know that you’re an actress (which is basically the same thing)

Like as a kid you were in commercials and you had a small role in a tv show but it wasn’t like it was super popular.

But what Oikawa didn’t know was that a couple months before you two started dating, you were flown out to America to star in an upcoming and highly anticipated movie

since you were under a contract, you weren’t allowed to talk about it until the trailer dropped and it ate away at you because all you wanted to do was tell people especially your boyfriend

ANYWAY He decided to take you on a date to the movie theatre and as you two were getting popcorn, these girls came up to you two

“ Hi! Is it okay if we can get a picture with you?”

“Of course, how could I ever turn down my lovely fans-”

“ No, not you, Y/N!”

Oikawa is just flabbergasted as the girls hand their phone to him so he can take a photo of you with your fans he deadass thinks it’s some prank

After the girls left, he gave you a weird-ass gaze and asked you what that was about but you just shrugged and told him that maybe it was because of ur mini part in that one tv show

So he thinks nothing about it and teased you that it was so cute how you had a mini fanbase and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty freaking cool

You guys entered your theatre and got settled into your seats as the movie trailers started to play.

(Oikawa loves watching trailers like this dude is the type to take you 45 minutes before the movie actually begins JUST to make sure he doesn’t miss anything)

As you’re chilling in your seat, you see the trailer to your movie so you do your best to keep your eyes on your boyfriend and the screen at the same time cause you want to see his reaction

The trailer plays and Oikawa seemed to be interested in the movie but again, it’s like any normal trailer UNTIL he hears your voice coming from the screen and he immediately sits up in his seat

“ Wait- was that your voice?”

“ My voice?”

“ Nevermind, I think I’m going crazy-”

AND THEN HE SEES YOU ON THE SCREEN! Since it’s a trailer it was just about five seconds of an intense/dramatic scene but it’s enough for Oikawa to lose his mind

“ OH MY GOD THAT IS YOU!”

This prompts some people in the audience to shush him but Oikawa doesn’t care

“ OH SHUSH THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! Y/N! THAT’S YOU!”

“ Toru oh my god yes that’s me but stop screaming or they’re gonna kick us out!” You whispered loudly as Oikawa clamped his hand over his mouth

He’s so happy and he’s beaming with pride so he pulls out his phone and records the trailer to post it in his group chat cause duh he wants to show the boys how proud he is but when he sees you kissing someone else for .6 seconds, Oikawa just (ㆆ_ㆆ) and stops recording

“ Are you okay babe?”

“ Was that real or CGI?”

“ The building crumbling is all CGI-”

“ No...the kiss.”

THIS DUMBASS LMAO HE’S SO SALTY AND JEALOUS

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?”

“ I- I was always this good! But I couldn’t say anything, I’m under a contract!”

“ But you could’ve told me! I wouldn’t have told a soul!”

That’s a whole ass lie, if he knew, he would’ve bragged about it to Iwaizumi

But foreal, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend like as months pass and your following gets bigger, he just gushes cause yep that’s his famous girlfriend ( he will 100% use you sometimes for clout)

this dude LOVES bragging to his friends that he’s dating a famous actress. Like he was always showing you off and hyping you up before but it gives him such an ego boost when people find out the two of you are dating

Oikawa is an attention whore like I said so you know whenever the paparazzi appears, he eats it up and will pose which is SOO embarrassing like pls why do u do this

But there are some days where you don’t want to get recognized and he 100% understands so the two of you will wear disguises as to not get recognized. One time you two ended up getting caught so he just grabbed your hand and the two of you SPRINTED back to the subway

He will have all of your movies on DVD and if your movie is on a streaming service, he will buy a membership JUST so he can watch your movie

Sometimes you’ll come over to his house and he’ll always try to make you watch your movie for the millionth time

“ Toru, can we please watch something else?”

“ But my extremely talented and beautiful girlfriend is in this movie why would I watch anything but this?”

Don’t be fooled he WILL skip through any kissing scenes or scenes where your character shows any type of affection to another character

LOVESSS tagging along with you to photoshoots, interviews, red carpet events ALL OF IT

Red carpet events give him a chance to dress up and lowkey his outfit is always one of the best there. He won’t outshine you per se but fans actually look forward to see what he’ll be wearing and he’s not even in any of the movies I-

Your schedule gets pretty busy once your career takes off and even though there are certain time periods where you’re across the world, it won’t stop him from sending huge bouquets to your set

Basically, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend and is overall so proud of how you managed to juggle your studies with your acting career 10/10 best boy

-Tsukishima- ( Musician/Singer)

You and Tsuki had only been dating for a bit and since it was all still new, he kept it on the down-low because the last thing he needed was his teammates pestering him about a girl

Tsuki knew you liked to sing and write songs but you never told him about how well known you were simply because he never asked

He just assumed it was a side thing for you UNTIL he showed up to practice and some of his teammates were huddled around Noya watching something on his tablet

“ Move your elbow! I can’t see-”

“ Watch your hand-”

“ Shush! I can’t hear her-”

“ What are you idiots watching?” Tsuki asked as he craned his neck to look at the screen

No one answered him so he started to watch the music video and low and behold, your face popped up on screen singing along to your lyrics that he’s heard a million times

Tsuki is a bit taken aback cause why is his girlfriend in such a high production video and why is his heart feeling some type of way seeing you in that outfit

Like lemme just take off my glasses and see that again ( •_•)>⌐■-■

” Where did you guys get that video?”

“ What do you mean, it’s online? She’s trending right now-”

“ God all of her songs are so good I want to see her live-”

“ I can’t believe she goes to school with us-”

“ I wish she would step on me-”

“ Hey, don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Tsuki said dryly as he glares at the back of Noya’s head, which prompted everyone to turn around

“ You’re dating Y/N L/N? Ha! That’s funny Tsuki!” Tanaka laughed as he slapped Tsuki in the back harshly

At first, even Tsuki was questioning himself like wait, is he even sure you’re dating? cause this girl in the music video was NOT the same girl he was on the phone with last night

If you had asked Tsuki 10 seconds ago if he would ever reveal to the guys he was dating someone, he would say helllll no but now that he knew about this, he didn’t care about keeping the relationship a secret especially if they were thirsting over his girl

He had all the proof in the world that he was dating you but took the salty approach to prove it to them. He pulled out his phone and shot you a text even though you were in class

Tsuki: Come to the gym right now

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tsuki: just come quickly

You left your class to “use the restroom” and practically rushed to the gym thinking that something was wrong with your boyfriend. You slid into the gym, causing the boys to look up from the tablet and you ignored their shocked faces

“ Where’s Tsukishima?”

The boys slowly did a doubletake from the music video back to you to make sure they were seeing correctly and even though you were a bit embarrassed to hear your song playing in the background, you were just worried about Tsuki

Tsuki walked out to you from behind the guys and you rushed over to him

“ Babe, what’s wrong?”

“ BABE?!”

The boys were shocked and the second years practically FAINTED in your presence

Tsuki pulled the tablet from Noya’s cold, dead hands and showed you the screen,” Care to explain this?”

“ I- Um, it’s my music video…”

“Well are you famous or something?”

“ I wouldn’t say famous…more like upcoming artist?”

And then the next week you’re a nominee for the VMA’s asjfkghdk

honestly out of Oikawa and Bokuto, he probably handles it the best on the outside, he doesn’t make too big of a deal out of your fame but on the inside he’s can’t even believe it

He doesn’t go around shouting to the world that he’s dating the Y/N L/N but he has his own ways of supporting you. He’ll listen to your songs whenever he’s walking in the hallway or doing homework at home and he’ll catch himself liking tweets that are about you as long as they’re positive

He’s def the type to argue with people online if they say mean comments and will report/block them before you can even see it

IDC how much he tries to hide it, he is deadass ur biggest fan. Tsuki will tease you about how nervous you act during interviews/award shows but he will ALWAYS go with you to ease your nerves even if he had prior plans

If you ever write a song for him, he gets SO RED AND EMBARRASSED so pls do that

Will def call you baka for doing so but deep down, he’ll fall in love with you even more cause you’re able to put into words how he feels about you

I don’t think he’ll be too comfortable with you posting about him but he knows he can’t do anything about people taking photos of the two of you out together in public

Tsuki would never be rude to your fans though like if you were recognized during a date, he wouldn’t make a fit and will take photos of you and your fans to speed the process along

He HATES HATES HATES the paparazzi’s like it’s one thing for fans to come up to you when yall are in public but he gets mad when the paparazzi harasses you with questions/pictures/comments

“ Y/N! Turn around and give a smile!”

“ Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“ Oh come on, don’t be shy! Just show the camera a little skin!”

“ How about you shut the hell up before I smack that camera out of your face.”

Head empty, no thoughts, just thinking about Mad!tsuki

It’s a big adjustment for Tsukishima that he has a girlfriend in the entertainment sphere but he knows how hard you’ve worked for it and he would never tell you to stop living your dream

Sometimes he’ll feel insecure because you’re so successful and he doesn’t want to hold you back but since he can’t imagine being without you, he just pushes those thoughts away and enjoys every minute with you

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